#and there's a murder at the end of it although it's nothing gory

[lookninjas]

This is way more metal metal than I'm usually into, but holy fuck this is good shit. I love the interplay of the vocalists, and then adding Will Ramos on top of it is just ridiculous.

(Sidenote: I'd heard of Will Ramos but this is my first time hearing his vocals and -- Jesus H. Christ, man. Somewhat disappointed to hear that he doesn't do cleans with Lorna Shore, but still. Those harsh vocals are insanely good all on their own.)

[reneedenoailles]

They behead valets, don't they ? (a vfv oneshot)

HUGE SPOILERS FOR THE END OF VFV !

fandom: vying for versailles pairing: implied / mentioned renée x louis characters: renée de noailles (called victoire here), alexandre bontemps rating: M word count: 1176 words. trigger warnings: implied animal abuse, implied daddy issues i guess. also victoire enacting psychological warfare on a 39 year old man. also talk of mildly gory public executions. summary: after framing alexandre for the murder of queen maria theresa, victoire de noailles, duchess of marly & official mistress decides to see alexandre in the bastille, before his execution. tagging: @rc-catalog

La Bastille, 1667.

Footsteps echoed throughout the halls, causing Alexandre Bontemps to snap out of his reverie, soon realizing how cold the ground of this prison cell was. Prison... Never in his life had he thought the King - whom he had worked to serve since boyhood - would lock him in the prison reserved for traitors to the Crown. All because of her... Victoire.

The one he brought to court - who he thought he could use. He hated to admit it, but she had outsmarted him. Never, in his thirty-nine years of living, had he felt so silly. He had been outplayed. "This way." He heard de Montlezun speak, right before he turned around.

And there she was. The Queen. The strongest piece on the board. He turned, scowling as he saw the source of his troubles. She had her usual smirk painted on those dark red lips, a smirk that Alexandre despised more than anything - the very same smirk that caused him to end up here.

"Didn't think you one for prayer." Victoire finally spoke, causing him to get up. Standing so tall, and yet, so... inferior. She smiled up at him, gold jewelry shining in his eyes. "I am not." He quietly replied. "But sometimes one tries to rely on the ones from Above, if those on Earth fail him." Even through his quiet tone, Victoire could hear his inner anger - the anger he's worked for so long to keep hidden underneath his wicked smiles. "I know you poisoned the Queen." "I have no idea what you mean." She viciously replied, of course - knowing exactly what he meant by that. They both knew, but clearly, one of them had the upper hand.

"All I know is that you killed her, and tried to frame me for both, the attempted murder of the King, and the murder of the Queen."

Alexandre got closer, tenaciously gripping onto the jail cell's bars - getting his face as close as he could. His features, clearly affected by both his age, and this recent turn of events, hardened, displaying his anger. "You will never get away with this." "Looks like I will." Victoire, on the other side, could not possibly look any brighter. This felt cathartic to her, breaking free of Alexandre's control, and becoming the Queen of France, although she wasn't so sure of that last part - it all depended on Louis. Queen or not, what mattered to her most was established: control, and by association, revenge.

She was elated at the mere thought of Alexandre's head on the chopping block, waiting for the sword to fall down on him. The Duchess of Marly's inner arrogance killed Alexandre - he hated her. He HATED her. And he hated himself. For bringing her to court, for not being smart enough on that note, for miscalculating... He shook the bars a little, his voice raising. "You're a witch ! You're nothing but a lowly, disgusting witch ! You'll burn in Hell for this !" He yelled at her, which simply made her laugh. To her, that was hilarious, watching Alexandre's mask slip off. He had made her cry before, and now she could crack him open, like an egg. A freshly picked egg from a chicken's nest - the chicken, in this case, being the King and his little creatures.

"I'd suggest you speak to me in another tone, Alexandre." While she was smiling - her voice seemed more commanding, as if she were chastising her maid. It instantly shut down Alexandre, as she continued. "I am the Duchess of Marly. You WILL speak to me with the due respect you owe me, Bontemps." She emphasized his last name, and his lack of titles along with it, before continuing. "While you may fancy yourself the little title of Valet, at the end of the day, you are a servant. A peasant, I'd even go as far as saying. Do not forget that the King was generous enough to have you die by the sword, like a noble. I could always change that..." She wrapped one of her hands around a bar of the cell, that empty look in her eye making him shiver and back away.

It was as if she had no emotion, her eyes showcasing a form of pure, yet disastrously calm madness. "I could always talk to the King about you." Victoire's lips curled into a smirk - one that displayed how much she actually held Alexandre in her palm. "You could be burned, like a witch. Like Bonne. Poor her." She didn't even mean those words, but the chill running down Alexandre's spine somehow... excited her, in a way. The memories of two years ago, the Valet blackmailing her, were still very fresh in her mind, so now that she had gotten the upper hand, she was going to at least have fun with it. "Maybe you'll be on the breaking wheel. Or maybe..."

She saw his fear, in those eyes, and how much he was trying to conceal said fear. "I'll have you quartered, like Ravaillac. He did kill a King... And you poisoned a Queen." "I did not ! You liar !" "Do not bark at me." She quickly responded, leaning in. "Your father must have trained the dogs better than that." At that thought - seeing how he immediately recoiled - she decided to keep going. She wanted him not only weak, but broken after this encounter. She wanted his mask to completely shatter. "I wonder how he would feel, if he saw you right now. What a disappointment his beloved son must be. More worthless than the dogs he trained."

"SHUT UP !" Alexandre suddenly yelled, tears streaming down his aged face. Victoire stepped back just a bit, letting go of the bars. She had never seen Alexandre cry, she didn't even know he could do that. But that ? It pleased her. She couldn't help but allow a little smirk to appear on her beautiful face, seeing him be the shadow of the man who blackmailed her. His father must have brought back painful memories, it seems.

He was entirely humiliated.

Reduced to this; a crying mess, on the floor, his knees giving away as he looked up to the woman who had kneeled down, to be on his level. Her smirk was still overwhelmingly present, looking down at him.

The way she looked at him... it wasn't like a woman looking at a man. It was like a chess player, looking at a pawn. Victoire leaned in, voice low, yet clear enough for him to hear.

"I own you, Alexandre."

And with that, he watched her get up, and dust herself off. Not even addressing him a last word - nothing. Simply turning on her heels, and walking away. He gripped onto the bars, watching her leave, waiting for the moment she would turn around and look at him.

"VICTOIRE ! VICTOIRE !" He screamed her name, louder, and louder - as loud as he could, loud enough to lose his voice. But she was already gone.

And there he lied, all alone, in his cell. In the dark.

[stitched-mouth]

I meant to post this months ago I don’t know why I found it today in my drafts 😑

The Platform Is A Strange Uncomfortable Movie

I usually love psychological thrillers, I love gore and trying to mentally dissect characters. This is why my boyfriend begged me to watch the first one with him in June 2024.

It was a painful for very impactful movie. It made me feel sick (like it intents to) to force me to think about what it meant and honestly I didn’t like it for a second. I love gore in horror because I physically can’t see it as real, most of the time I feel nothing for the characters or feel although they deserve whatever bad thing about happened to them.

I can’t do that in the Platform because the main characters of the first and second movie don’t deserve to be there, they are simply traumatised people looking for a way out. The reason for choosing to be in prison are heartbreaking but understanding when you understand their trauma. It feels like they are punished for being traumatised at times which is extremely painful but so realistic.

Anyway, I really enjoyed the first but was hesitant to think about it because it made me uncomfortable. I did so anyway and I really believe something like the Platform could happen or might even do already just in most realistic places. Which is terrifying to me. The worst part is I know for a fact that if I was in there, I would easily choose survival over what I believe in. And would likely die from going insane, fighting someone for food and be murdered. Or I would kill myself before I lost all my sanity.

I wouldn’t be strong enough to individually fight the system and for what I believe in.

I really didn’t want to come back to this series, I was already traumatised by the first one, I nearly lost it when my boyfriend told me last month that there was a second movie. We watched it together last night and I realised a few minutes in that this one was going to be more impactful that the first, just in a different way.

I felt more for the characters this movie, more of their pain. And wondered why I didn’t consider the very real possibility how political the Pit can get and the possibility of someone ‘rising up’ being seen as the Messiah in the Pit.

Like the first movie’s protagonist, Perepuan (second movie’s protagonist), morally doesn’t deserve to be there. She surrenders herself because of guilt she feels about her ex boyfriend’s child’s accidental death. I wonder why the viewers here are set up to immediately feel sympathy for Perepuan before the movie even really starts.

She fights like Hell until the very end to survive and to make a point against the rules and system in the Pit. And why she is successful at making that point to many people, she still dies anyway and her movement wasn’t impactful enough to change how everyone behaviours in the Pit. Her main goal is the forgive herself over her stepson’s death and yes she is successful but it didn’t do anything.

I felt more uncomfortable watching this movie than the first but I think it’s because they were more political and gory here.

I felt numb after Sahabat’s death, I don’t think there’s any worst way to go how than how she did. And she was punished for following the rules. It was a great way to establish that this Messiah is BS, he looks for any which reason to kill people and his people follow him out of fear.

Maybe another the reason why Sahabat’s death messed with me more than the others is because I actually immediately thought of rape. Considering people 1-4 floors below 72 level are still getting some but little food, I doubt most of them have become cannibals yet. There are only two possible ways for her to die here. One, people below MIGHT of untied her and helped her (the most unlikely). Two, if the people immediately below didn’t untie her and help her out of fear of the Messiah, they likely just left there. Or three, some of them might of even raped her while the platform was on their level.

And then eventually she would of made it to the cannibals.

[episodeoftv]

Round 1 of 8, Group 6 of 8

propaganda and summaries are under the cut (May include spoilers)

Downton Abbey: 3.09 A Journey to the Highlands

tw car accident, dead body of matthew visible although nothing gory about it.

The Crawleys go to Duneagle Castle to celebrate Christmas with the MacClares. Everyone is delighted as they fish, hunt, and dine. Unfortunately, when the Crawleys return, tragedy strikes. Will things ever be the same again?

OK so. For the last three seasons, we had the build up, ennemies to lovers, will they won't they, of Mary and Matthew's romance. The romance only started in the first place because Matthew was the heir to Mary's father's fortune for ~reasons~ and the previous heir had died. There are a LOT of scares. Matthew goes missing in action during WW1, Matthew gets engaged to another woman and Mary to another man for some time, Mary's little sister's life was saved by Matthew, the third sister tries to snatch him for herself, etc... AND THEN THEY FINALLY GET MARRIED! And in the episode we're talking about, Mary discovers she's pregnant despite earlier difficulties to get pregnant, and then she gives birth in the hospital and Matthew takes the baby in his arms and kisses Mary and all, and then says "i'll go home get you a change of clothes" or something and takes his car. And. Freaking. Dies. In an accident. There was absolutely no build up for that, actually it was just the actor's decision to leave the series after that season, which is absolutely gut-wrenching because they finally were happy and then he DIES.

Lost: 3.14 Exposé

Nikki and Paulo are two more of the castaways with a past just like any of the others. What have they been doing since the plane crash?

This episode is insane. It focuses on two background characters, and how the main cast is trying to solve a murder mystery (they both died). The plot twist at the very end made me go “WHAT THE HELL”

[amphiptere-art]

So I haven't really talked about what happened to the end of the cruel copies scenario before they all died. I'm mostly kept it under tight lock because I wanted to reveal it in the ask series. But that is going as slow as molasses on a slug sooooo.

Down below is a detailed description of how everyone died. Or well at least how witch, Gladiator, Hunter, and Butler died. We all know how Werewolf and Wizard died.

Also another warning. These will be gory descriptions of death.

So yes werewolf got disintegrated by gladiator. Which leads it's a whole body panic attacks about basically not existing. Wizard had his head blown off by Butler. Which results in glasses because he basically lost his sight by losing his head.

Then of course we get to the juicy part. Again another warning this will eventually be described in the ask series but I'm just explaining it here.

Basically unlike normal eclipse, Butler was very serious in the fact he was toying the others. He played around with Hunter first. Wizards death was just the first thing. While I won't go over all the shenanigree. Butler basically got hunters to a point that he actually attacked. Fighting with their hands until Butler decided he had enough and gripped the gator by his jaws and ripped him in two. Killing him.

Next was witch. She of course tried to reason with him. She tried to get him to listen. Butler did not. He decided to keep her to toy with the brothers. Breaking her legs so she could not run. Laughing as she crawled on the trying to ask him to stop. She died when the brothers came to rescue her and he sliced her in half.

Then there was gladiator. The brothers tried to confront Butler and save witch. She of course died and the Brothers had to act quickly. Gladiator offering himself as a distraction. Although pastel tried to disagree, Gladiator confronted them with the fact that he couldn't do anything with the star. So pastel went to go retrieve the star from whatever pedestal Butler had it on.

Butler of course had his fun reprimanding Gladiator for everything he could think of. Inciting that he basically is just sacrificing himself for his brother. Starting a sword dual. Where he cut off gladiator's arm. Giving the screaming robot not much of a chance as he finished him off. Cutting through a circuitry and making sure he was thoroughly dead.

Then we get to Butler's own death. Luckily gladiators sacrifice wasn't in vain. Pastel was able to retrieve the star. But this was at the loss of everyone they knew. She was enraged and in sorrow. She lit Butler ablaze. And due to no longer having the stars powers he could do nothing as the fire melted his casing and burned his circuits.

Pastel using the stars power to summon the same magical weapons Butler had been and stabbing him through the chest. Over, and over, and over, and over again. Butler watched through the fire as pastel degraded in front of him. Whether he died to the fire or to the stabbing through the chest is undeterminable.

This is thoroughly why pastel is so broken. All of her close family died in front of her. All her friends and adopted siblings got murdered without her being there. And she only lasted a day before she wanted to turn all back. Still absolutely stuck in grief All of their deaths were forgotten when she revived them. Blissfully attempting to remember them for the traits they fondly remembered. But they were just corpses. And you can only do so much.

That is why Hunter has a broken jaw at times. That is why Earth is stuck in a wheelchair. That is why gladiators arm doesn't work. And why Butler is covered and burn marks and has a terrible cough. All of them are stuck with the fandom pains of a past they don't even remember anymore. Butler knows he killed people. But he honestly cannot remember. All of them feel the sense of death. And without the stars power they would all lie dead.

Cruel copy might be cute and silly as a standpoint of a fantasy esk tsams, But it's past is horrendous. The life they live is a cruel copy. Brought up through the memories of pastel in grief.

Gladiator fought through his last moments. So he is a fighter. Earth despite her condition still tried to heal others. So she became neutral and a healer. Hunter sought out for something he could never have again. And this is best attempt to kill the killer. So he became someone who seeks. Butler is stuck in the memory of being someone annoying and evil. Someone who had allies who stuck by their side. He became the villainous Lord. Although pastel deep down did not want someone who would cause trouble again.

Pastel is broken. Shook by grief that no one else can experience. Living in a fantasyland where everything is fine and repeatable. It will never be fine. Life should not be a story on repeat. But cap has to live with this. He is only a voice.

[inaaontheskyways]

Pittyober, day 13: hide

And here’s my 2nd piece for @stormyykat’s Pittyober, this time with my privateer of the Shatterhands, Titania Xandros, and her experiences in Aquila! Altho, I gotta be honest here, I’m not really sure about this one b/c it got me stressing the whole time I wrote it, pfffft, even to the point where @brewbellwizardry had to help me with the editing, so pls be kind here 😭🙏🏽

(CW under the cut: really gory, it’s just a gore fest up in here ngl-)

There is nothing that Titania prides herself in more than her gift for strategy.

After all, she originally came from a long line of warriors whose specialty was to know every tactic and trick in the book of war from cover to cover, so of course she would end up the same, even if not on the same battlefield as she had expected—wanted—it to be. Though, it isn’t like piracy is much different, really. Raiding an enemy ship and taking its resources for the crew’s own benefit isn’t unlike the ones she had been trained to perform as a soldier, with the only real change being whether a pack of yum would also be included with the gold payment.

As the second-in-command of the Shatterhands, it isn’t far-off to say that Titania’s strategies are what pulls or even saves them from the missions that they go on, nor would they have been half as successful if not for her input. Her captain and the rest of her crewmates know it too. She can think of all sorts of ways to get under the enemy’s skin and figure out what makes them tick, and to do it as efficiently as possible that makes the best use of everyone’s skills and resources; but most impressive yet, that always ensures their survival first. ‘Know thy self, know thy enemy,’ as they would say. And she would usually hold that philosophy close to her chest, a reminder to always stay cool, collected, and calculated with her plans, lest they end up failing—and failing the others by extension.

Although, there have been times where Titania would forgo her tactics because fuck it, I just want this bastard dead and now. Some opponents happened to be real frustrating pieces of shit to go up against, be it due to exceptional strength, speed, or plain stubbornness; so she would have to get a little more messy, more carnal with her moves than she would normally prefer to do. But even then, she wouldn’t let those emotions run too far away, no, those were to be kept on a tight leash. She could never let them consume and keep her from seeing the full picture, because for a member of the Shatterhands, of the Alexandrous, the mission should be her number one priority above all else.

Except, when it comes to revenge, it is a whole different story.

Because the Shatterhands are nothing if not vengeful.

A smile that is blinding and full of madness—ecstasy—is spread wide over Titania’s face, lazily twirling the handle of her xiphos as she follows after the trail of blood left haphazard through the palace hallways. Her pace is leisurely, looking more like someone out on a morning walk rather than a hunt for murder. It drips from her victim’s battered body in the same way spilled wine does at a party, carelessly lost in his rush to get as far away from her as possible, stumbling around like a frightened drunkard and bumping into furniture along his path. She chuckles darkly, finding the situation not only amusing but downright ironic to her. It is almost nostalgic, knowing that she used to be in that same position; desperate, terrified, and stripped of her pride, begging with all of her heart to be given his help, his support… only to be met with nothing more than a sneer most devastating, I don’t have time to deal with vermin.

Oh, how the tables have turned, muses the blonde with another chuckle, hard and low, gaze predatorily sharp when it catches her victim collapsing onto the floor. He lets out a pained groan, trying to get up, but the wear-and-tear of his body only allows him to drag himself across the floor, staining its once-pristine surface with long, messy streaks of blood. A weak position like that allows her to finally catch up, but really, she has only been walking slow to fuck with him, mock the fact that he now has to limp just like she does; yet is too pussy to handle what she always lived her whole life with. Her boots shake the marble, purposely creating loud stomps with her braced leg to startle him bad even if it stings. He’s about to find that there are much worse to deal with than a sickly leg.

“Dear cousin Antinous…” greets Titania with a drawl, though its nonchalance doesn’t match the sadistic gleam in her eyes, reddened like rubies, like anger—like death. Kneeling down, despite its being braced, she digs her knee against the said man’s back, not caring for the painful swell that is building into it; those ugly cries are just too therapeutic for her to let up. “You’re pretty bad at hide-n’-seek, y’know? You’re not supposed to make it obvious where to find you.”

“Fuck you!” her cousin screams out, hoarse yet defiant, wriggling around in a futile attempt to free himself of her tight grasp, “I only did what I had to, any other man worthy as I would’ve done the same! I’m an Alexandrou, I deserved that position, it was always mine to take!”

Titania scoffs, “Oh yeah? Don’t remember our duties involving treason or betraying the Emperor,” and moves the xiphos towards his neck, threatening to slit it if he speaks another wrong word. “Doesn’t seem as profitable now that you’re in this position, though, huh?”

Suddenly, her cousin’s body begins to tremble from underneath. She cocks a brow questioningly, until sounds of grating laughter cawed out of his beak, equally-red eyes staring up at her with a shine of demented glee within them. Clearly, he isn’t considering her warning nor the fact that he is at her mercy right now, as if this is still five years in the past and he can continue to play her for a fool without retaliation, string her along like the puppet he once forced her to be.

But Titania isn’t someone to be used and strung along anymore.

“Oh, dearest cousin,” he spits the term out disdainfully, “Wouldn’t you of all people know that best? You were the one who was caught with that package, with reason for treason. None of that was ever connected to me.” he smirks when he notices that she has grown quiet, grip loosened up on her blade ever so slightly. “You really think that by revealing me, the family will commend you and take you back in? That they’ll finally see you worthy of respect?”

He cackles further, “You can delude yourself all you want, but you’ll never amount to anything, Cousin, you’ll never belong. There’s no point in trying, not for you. You coming back here was a fruitless endeavor, and you and I both know it because even after all this time, you’ll always be worthless—”

Then, he ends up cutting himself off with an abrupt, loud screech of agony, accentuated by the sickening crack of his shoulder, Titania’s hand firm on his wing and twisting it all the way backwards in calculated silence. She digs her nails into his skin, watching it draw another wave of blood against his pale feathers, mulling over the curiosity that if she were to apply more pressure, will it completely snap off? Hang and lay useless like a noose by his side?

Well, wouldn’t that be quite a sight to see.

“How- how dare you! What’re you, some type of brute!?” screams her victim still, thrashing and slamming his other wind against the floor, “Wait until I get out of here, I will ruin you, I will be the death of you, do you hear me!? You’re nothing but a little bitch, you are dirt beneath my feet, you’re a defect who should’ve never been born—!”

“Hoh? You really mean that, my dear cousin?” the pirate pulls him up by his shoulder, straining it even more forcefully, causing him to choke and gurgle from the pain.

And finally, there is fear in her victim’s eyes, widening at the full realization that not only will he not make it out of here alive, but not even his death would be quick and painless either. Not when he sees her face and the vibrant furor that has fully consumed her, grin wide and teeth bared like the fangs of a predator, seeming just about ready to eat him all up and pick his bones clean from a silver platter of her own making.

“Perhaps I should show you what it really means to fear.”

[jechristine]

About TCR : I wasn't aware of this case but I've seen people from the community say they could've based TCR on another case of DID, the one of Jeni Haynes. She was sexually abused by her father for years and developed 2500 alters to survive, many of them were allowed to testify in trial and her father was finally founded guilty.

It's a case that highlighted the condition and was used effectively during a trial. It could've been the same outcome (in terms of learning about the condition) without having to take inspo on someone who had violent and criminal alters. It would've been more legitimate maybe to tell this type of story

But again from a marketing pov they wanted to approach it as a "murder mystery" kinda thing so they had to add something "gory" even tho they changed the crimes...? Like Idk it feels insincere to me to claim to want to "raise awareness about mental health" but spending half the show making it a bit sensational and "plot twisty" instead of caring about writing meaningful dialogues (I've yet to be impressed by the writing, quite the opposite actually).

I mostly agree with all of this! Although I do think they definitely could have found a very good 10-episode narrative and compelling characters in the Minds of Billy Milligan, especially after they decided to take literary license with it, but I think they missed that opportunity and the whole thing is pretty phoned-in, if you ask me. The more I see, the more I realize what 🚩it is to be rearranging your plot after the whole production has been shot. It’s screaming we knew something was wrong and needed a quick fix. Is that common? Regardless, we’re seeing some of the same exact (Rya) scenes copied and pasted into subsequent episodes; I don’t think I’ve ever seen that level of lazy film-making before.

IMO making Danny responsible for real harm would have deepened his character and made the task of drumming up sympathy more challenging and ultimately more rewarding. A story like the alternative that you’re describing maybe would have pivoted around a different conflict altogether, and maybe that’s what Akiva & co. would have preferred, as you’re saying! But, alas, in this series they zero’d out the narrative conflict and then tried to replace it with nothing but the weakest mystery frame.

There could be another opportunity in Jeni Haynes’s biography, but of course that could also be done in a cliched and perfunctory way😭

I can’t speak to TCR’s accurate representation of DID—and there are four more episodes—but regarding the TV series as a TV series, I find that most of the big “issues” (racism, feminism, abuse) have been given such brief and shallow treatment as to be emotionally manipulative, and so I wouldn’t be surprised if some in the DID community ended up being disappointed.

[unholycarnival]

🎇 || NEW PINED

👾WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT ME?👾:

Hello! My name's ZIP but ya can also refer to me as: Jenny/Masacrik/Mackintosh or Martin if you prefer a less funky name! (Boooooring LOL).

I'm a 21 y.o (xochimilca mestizo) mexican digital/traditional/mixed media artist!🎨

★ I'm part of a system, & we have other things going on I prefer to maintain somewhat privately, might mention briefly.

★ Also queer, Transmasc enby + Aroace bi! Pronouns are: He/Them (and or) It/Jokes!

★MULTIFANDOM! Main ones right now are: gravity falls, the walten files, the boys, batman and other few I cannot remember rn!.

★ I Can speak mainly Spanish, English & Náhuatl, i'm also learning Russian, japanese & latin! On the way learning more!

⚠️CONTENT WARNINGS:

I generally don't label my content as for tws or cws (only do when it's something like flash warnings/when I deem something is actually REALLY gory/disturbing) so there's a few things to keep in mind abt my content, it could (very likely will have):

GRAPHIC VIOLENCE AND LANGUAGE:

General explicit drawn gore and foul shit.

HARDCORE BODY HORROR & HORROR:

Also includes but not limited to: physical or psychological torture, loss of control over oneself's body, deformation onto grotesque abominations, eldritch horrors, lovecraftian horrors, explicit represented murder imagery, psychological horror etc.

UNREALITY/DEPERSONALIZATION:

Since it is a very common thing I've experienced I often tend to explore it on characters I like and such, this also includes representations of delusions etc.

GENERAL DARK/HEAVY THEMES:

Death and all it's possible variants including suicide, loss, religion, abuse, general mental illness stuff (on my works or in general talks w people abt stuff) etc.

GROSS STUFF (JUST IN VERY SPECIFIC PIECES THO):

Like vomit...tbf I think it will just be vomit, the guts and blood it's already covered by the two first sections LMAO.

SPOOKY EYES AND TEETH LOL:

It should be obvious that it is included in the first two sections but I felt the need to put it in its own category. Love 2 draw em.

FLASHING &/OR EYESTRAINING IMAGERY:

Sometimes my artworks have that, although as stated on the start, I tend to tag that one. I don't want anyone 2 suffer a seizure & end in the hospital bcs of me.

SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE? (VEEEEERY UNLIKELY BUT EH):

It's more like some freaky subtexts in some future ideas I have. I could be through dialog or directly through insinuation if represented. Nothing explicit tho!.

And that'll be all for now in this section me thinks!.

☠️ DON'T FUCKING INTERACT IF YOU'RE!...:

GENERAL BIGOT.

A PROSHIPER/PROFIC ANTI-ANTI, GTFO.

A MAP, ZOO OR WHATEVER OTHER HARMFUL PARAPHILIA FREAK.

BELIEVES IN CRINGE CULTURE (LOL).

T*ERF, TR*SCUM OR ANY WEIRD SHIT

Well pretty much any weird freak in the not positive sense of the word.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

No matter how stupid or futile this is, I have to do it, I have to write everything down. Maybe it will help me remember, although I have to say forgetting sounds pretty amazing right now. Still, I need to make sense of things, but at least clear my head.

Who am I kidding. This is not for me. It's for you and I so, so hope you will be able to read it. That you'll understand what I went through and why it had to end this way.

Right. Let's do it before this paper disappears along with this fucking day.

It's March 1986 and out of all the fucked up things that have happened in my life, this one takes the cake. Two murders with a curse, power of mind, whatever. People fall asleep standing, start floating, die with a crunch and there's no sign of it stopping, so that's fun. And by fun I mean really fucking horrible. It seems I'm writing the word "fuck" a lot. It helps a bit.

Nancy said, I mean, will say later today...that the guy, Vecna, Henry Creel, One, who honestly cares, plans to do some really messed up shit with Hawkins. And yeah, which villain doesn't have plans like that, but this one means it. Like, really means it. I saw it happen again and again and for some fucked up reason, some higher power chose me to fix this. Just adorable.

Why it chose me, I have no fucking clue. Anyone else would have been a better choice - Dustin and that huge brain of his would figure out not only what to do, but also why it's happening. He'd make sure Vecna would bite the dust during the second, third loop. Maybe it would be a week, but he'd get it eventually. Robin would run around like a headless chicken, but she'd start piecing things together. Nancy? She'd grab a gun or twenty and make sure everyone lives to see another day. Me? I can't get anything right.

I tried telling the others, but honestly, where do you start? You all die horrible and gory deaths. I've seen you choked, broken, torn apart, bleeding out, bones crushed to pieces, all that and more. I keep trying to fix things, but you don't listen to me and at this point, I don't even want to tell anyone because you look at me in that sad, pitying way, as if I was stupid - and shit, maybe I am, okay, not much going on under this fabulous hair, but the last time I tried telling you, you forced me to sit it out and nothing changed, except I just had to wait, listen to your screaming on the walkie. That has been the worst loop so far.

And what's even worse is how much I know about all of you now. I never thought the end of the world would take this long, but I've spent days changing things, piece by piece, but it still ends in bloodshed. But I keep the pieces of you all I've collected along the way and they make the stakes so much higher, so much more cruel. I used to think I know all of you but now I feel like I have some extra puzzle pieces that were thrown in the box and I need to keep them a secret. Day by day I keep learning about everyone...and about myself.

You hate yourself so much and I don't understand it. You do the best you can with the hand you're given and I admire it so much, even if I saw you in a completely different light only a few days ago. But ever since we met in that boathouse, you intrigue me. What you do for the kids, for Dustin...you need to survive this. You need to live because I can't imagine a world without you.

I'm going to try something different today. I used to charge with you, storm the Creel house, but this time I will have to stay behind. Maybe it's just a matter of time, maybe you just need a few more minutes, seconds...but I can't stand to see you die again.

If by any chance this paper makes it with all of you to the next day, I just want to say it was an honor to meet you. I'm so glad I could learn so much about you, understand you, learn to love you for who you are. Maybe it's a matter of a simple exchange and I'm willing to try, because to me you're worth it. I wonder if we could have been friends, maybe something more, if we were only given more time.

Hm. Can't believe I wrote that. Sorry, didn't mean to make this awkward, but marching towards certain death makes you brave.

Please take care of everyone, Steve. And yourself too. Especially yourself.

Love Yours Thank you for everything.

Eddie

[miscellaneous-obsession]

Hi, I'm not sure if you do requests but I came across your ongoing fic about Alcina Dimitrescu and the maiden. I was wondering if you could write an angst piece about the family involving Ethan Winters and him carrying out his mission in the castle (as hinted during gameplay)? You can make it as sad and gory as you want!

Ah thank you for the ask, I really tried to go all out with the piece! Also please note this was written before canon details of the girl's weakness was revealed.

The Inevitable

Warnings: Graphic violence, death of main characters, implied suicide, details of injury and blood, use of blades and guns and not suitable for minors.

Anguish consumed her entire being as sobs were ripped from her throat, each more violent than the last. Her chest heaved, becoming more breathless as tears relentlessly trailed down her cheeks, falling only to land on the creamy expanse of Alcina's dress.

Being the last to have turned, Ethan presumed her mortal connections of humanity lingered longer than most. The emotional intensity of the scene that unfolded before him forced him to avert his gaze as guilt threatened to tear through his heart. He was the cause of such destruction; he had laid waste, bringing about the death of a family in reparation and retaliation for the loss of his own.

He called them monsters, but there was always a chance he was wrong. Was it he who was becoming the villain of the story?

Forcing himself to face the consequences of his actions, his stomach turned. Recalling the events that led him to believe that the brunette was the first he had slaughtered. She had walked into the hall unsuspecting of the company hovering above on the bannister, perched in wait, ready to leap onto her frame. Unable to swarm and seek help from her sisters, Ethan had plunged a blade through the skin and muscle of her neck with such force even the crunch of bone and cartilage echoed alongside a gurgled scream. Her eyes had widened, arms flailing helplessly as her mind continued to fight, hoping that this was not her untimely end.

"Cassandra," the cry of her name rang throughout the expansive room and with force, Ethan was flung from his position over the fading woman. The redhead looked torn; anger and sorrow clashed together like waves against a cliff. Her bottom lip trembled as tears threatened to spill over with the force she blinked, a truly futile effort to contain them.

"You can't go, Cassie; who will I bicker with?"

Ethan had recovered by then, his heart aching with a drop of adrenaline as these sisters were forced to part, separated by planes of existence by his actions. The brunette now lay lifeless in a pool of her own blood, cradled by whom he knew to be Daniela. The very same redhead remained unguarded, vulnerable, and against his better judgement, he retrieved his gun. Solely focused on Cassandra's corpse, Daniela had less than a second to react as she unsheathed her sickle, refracting the bullet, so it embedded within wooden panelling rather than her head. 

"You bastard," with sloppy movements, she swung the blade that remained coated in her previous victim's blood. Advancing with ferocity, Ethan was compelled to retreat; his steps backward created a minute distance only to be quickly eliminated by Daniela's persistence. With both knife and gun in hand, Ethan continued to parry, deflecting potentially lethal blows, waiting patiently for an opening.

Two sounds followed in succession, first a second shot of the gun, then the thud of a fallen body. Not far from her elder sister lay Daniela, her body shaking as she slid across the marbled floor leaving behind an abhorrent bloody trail in her wake. Her effort was not in vain as she curled into Cassandra's now cooling body, hoping for a semblance of comfort in the absence of her mothers and only remaining sister.

Seconds later, the matriarch's wife stormed in, her fury no less palpable than her youngest’s. "No," her voice was soft as disbelief seeped in; ignoring the direct threat before her, she came to her daughter's side. The redhead forced a smile, hoping to alleviate the distress that crossed her mama's face.

"Mama," that sole word was enough for the maiden to hush the girl who she pecked on her forehead.

"Relax, Dani, you did so well, my darling. I am proud, so proud."

The slight smile, still as toothy as ever, cracked the maiden's heart, knowing it would be the last she caught from her daughter.

"Cassandra will be waiting, so do not fear, for you won't be alone."

The comfort Daniela sought was given in tenfold as always, and as she closed her two-toned eyes for the final time, she was only aware of her mama's delicate fingers carding through her hair. 

Much like her daughter, who had just passed, the blonde could not contain her pain at the sight of her deceased children. Although before Ethan could act, the two remaining ladies of the house emerged, summoned by the ruckus he was responsible for.

Bela surged forward after a single glance to her younger sisters; her protective nature had not dulled even in their deaths. On the other hand, Alcina flew to her wife's side, sharing in the grief that constricted their unbeating hearts. Never had she thought that a single man could enact such damage.

Bela was relentless, her anger conforming to her will and an advantage as she slashed with precision. Her blade getting too close for comfort for Ethan's liking, but he was prepared. Blocking and countering with his own attacks saw the blonde thrown off-kilter, her movements becoming sluggish as she expended her energy far too much over the course of the evening.

Observing her daughters struggles, Alcina moved to step in, only to be too late as Ethan used Bela's momentum against her. With her sickle wedged within the hearth of the fireplace, unable to rip it out in time, both blade and bullets penetrated her unprotected abdomen. The inhuman cry from Alcina sent Ethan staggering as she pulled Bela into her embrace, coaxing and pleading for her to stay awake. Quickly cream became crimson within seconds but was ignored in favour of re-joining her wife. Held safely in her mother's arms brought Bela a semblance of peace; she desperately wanted to stay but knew there was nothing to fear anymore, for she had her sisters to join.

"I'm sorry, mother, mama," she looked to them in turn as she spoke their favoured terms of endearment, eyes fluttering with each movement.

"Nonsense dragă mea, you were perfect." 

A small nod from the maiden confirmed Alcina's statement, confident that her daughter had succeeded. "Rest Bela," was the last thing the blonde heard as she slipped into an endless sleep, still held and cradled in the soothing caress that her mothers provided.

Only when they were sure did they let go, allowing Bela to lay by her sisters, placed with such delicacy it surprised Ethan. Only two to go; it was a thought that crossed his mind as both women stood, bodies stiff and ready to pounce as though they were predators and he was their prey.

Both matriarch and her wife were riddled with injuries by the end of the fight, Alcina more so as she had taken blows in an effort to save her beloved. Foolishly it was this notion, her own sentimentality, that brought about her end. Having collapsed her wife catching her with practised ease, Alcina was held against the blonde's chest. With an urgent need to convey her love, Alcina forced herself upright, seeking the lips of her maiden. Granting one of her last requests, her beloved closed the distance, savouring what would be the final kiss in which the matriarch would or could reciprocate. A hand rose to Alcina's cheek as she came to rest her head in the column of her wife's neck, fingers tracing skin with unparalleled tenderness. Ethan's own heart ached, he had lost his wife, his Mia, and he was the reason his ancestor was losing her own.

"I'll be with you soon, my love; I promise even death won't separate us."

Alcina hummed, although not in disagreement; she too did not want to be parted in the afterlife. "You are mine dragă mea."

"I am yours just as you are mine; that will never change."

Smoothing out tangled curls, the maiden pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her wife's head. Seconds later, Alcina's chest stilled and only then did the final Dimitrescu shed her tears, leading to the scene Ethan saw before him.

"Where is my daughter?"

No success, her sobs continued to wrack her body, oblivious to the man's question as she pressed her face into the top of her wife's head.

"Where is Rose?"

He demanded louder each time, growing more frustrated with a lack of results he had hoped to achieve from this massacre. Eventually, without any patience left, he drew closer, his footfalls treading carefully across stained floors. Extending an arm, allowing a hand to come into contact with the blonde’s shoulder, snapped the maiden’s attention to the man who murdered her family, her innate fear of being removed from her beloved squashed upon meeting his bitter gaze.

"Why would I tell you anything, Ethan Winters?"

For once, he had no response, but she filled the silence with her resentful tone, despite her wavering voice and quivering lip. "You hold no more bargaining chips. You played your cards much too early. How foolish a man to have made such avoidable mistakes."

He scoffed as if to refute her statement; despite all of the stacking evidence that she was right, some small part of his mind refused to acknowledge or toy with the concept that she was wrong.

"You want a daughter you will not find; I will not divulge a secret of which I was entrusted with. For you killed my daughters, my wife, my everything. Nothing you can say or do could repair or undo the damage you have caused. You will leave here knowing you have failed."

With that said, the maiden prepared for the inevitable, for Ethan's weapons to end her life much like he had the other four Dimitrescu's at her refusal to share what information he desired. Holding her wife tighter and an arm resting across her daughters, she waited. But the blow nor bullet she anticipated came, leaving a hollow, empty sensation festering in her chest.

"I won't kill you until I leave with what I came for."

"Unfortunately for you, that is the opposite of what will happen."

Before Ethan could stop her, she grabbed her youngest’s discarded sickle, and for all to hear, she said aloud, "In life and in death, glory to Mother Miranda." The weapon was swung with force, finalising the end of the Dimitrescu household, allowing the last member to come to rest, still clutching her wife's body with a loosened grip.

Ethan had failed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Only hours later, without hearing from his sister, did Heisenberg approach the castle. Lacking his lycans or other substantial back up he entered silently, aware of the games that may be ongoing. He did not want to spoil his niece's fun.

Entering the hall brought about a shock; in the light of the fires dying embers lay those who he had called his family. Untouched from the fight, Daniela was held between her sisters, flanked on either side, just as she had adored as a child. Alcina was to their right, body held by her wife, who distinctly lacked the sickle once embedded in her skin. The very weapon was strewn to the side, still marred by her blood. Those emerald eyes Alcina adored to talk of were now closed in respect, an unforeseen gesture carried out by none other than the man who wreaked such havoc before having absconded. The matriarch's wife had her arm extended, albeit stiff with rigour mortis, across the girls, forever comforting them in a maternal gesture.

Never did Karl anticipate an ending like this, although he was only thankful for their departure together, for they remained a family even in their time of death.

But for now, it was time to inform Mother Miranda of their demise.

[letterboxd]

Savage Cinema.

From anarchists and adultery to milk baths and massacres, Matthew Turner shares five of the weirdest and wildest highlights of Hollywood’s pre-Code era, as #PreCodeApril comes to a close.

Pre-Code April was directly inspired by Noirvember, a month-long celebration of noir cinema instigated by Marya Gates (Oldfilmsflicker). I did Noirvember for the first time in November 2019, really enjoyed it, and thought it would be great to do the same thing for pre-Code movies. Although I’ve watched most of the classic 1930s films, I realised there were a huge number of pre-Code films I’d never seen (of my Letterboxd list of over 900 Pre-Code films, I have only seen 200).

As a sucker for a bit of wordplay, no matter how tenuous, I picked April partly because it’s six months away from Noirvember and partly because of the shared “pr” sound in April and Pre-Code. I’ve been absolutely delighted by the response—the #PreCodeApril hashtag on Twitter is a daily treasure trove of pre-Code-related joy, but I was genuinely thrilled to see the response on Letterboxd (here is my watchlist for the month). It’s been a real pleasure to see pre-Code movies constantly popping up in my ‘new from friends’ feed. My hope is that it’ll be even bigger next year—and that maybe TCM will want to get involved, the way they do with Noirvember.

Produced between 1929 and 1934, pre-Code cinema refers to films made in a brief period between the silent era, and Hollywood beginning to enforce the Motion Picture Production Code censorship guidelines (mandatory enforcement came in from July 1934). The “Code” in question was popularly known as the Hays Code, after then MPPDA president Will H. Hays. As the depression set in and box office declined, theater owners needed fare that would drive cinema-goers to the movies. It was a wild time to be a scriptwriter; they threw everything at the page, designers added even more, and actors played out the kinds of scenes, from the suggestive to the overt, that would otherwise be banned for decades to come.

The following five films demonstrate some of Hollywood’s craziest pre-Code excesses. They’re still jaw-dropping, even by today’s standards, and notably give female characters an agency that would be later denied as the Christian morals of the Code overruled writers’ kinks.

Madam Satan (1930) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Elsie Janis, Jeanie Macpherson and Gladys Unger

A critical and commercial flop in 1930, Cecil B. DeMille’s utterly insane musical comedy stars Kay Johnson as a straight-laced wife who plots to win back her unfaithful husband (Reginald Denny) by seducing him at a costume party, disguised as a mysterious devil woman. The location of this party? Oh, nothing too fancy, just on board a giant zeppelin. (“Madam Satan or: How the Film gets Fucking Crazy on the Blimp,” as Ryan reviewed it.)

Madam Satan is not by any stretch of the imagination a good movie (the editing alone is laughably bad), but as a piece of pre-Code craziness, it really has to be seen to be believed. Co-written by a trio of women and set in just three locations, it goes from racy bedroom farce to avant-garde musical to full-on disaster movie after a bolt of lightning hits the blimp.

The film is justly celebrated (in camp classic circles, at least) for the wildly over-the-top costumes paraded in the masquerade ball sequence, but there’s weird outfit joy everywhere you look. Keep an eye out for an enterprising extra who’s come dressed as a set of triplets.

Call Her Savage (1932) Directed by John Francis Dillon, written by Tiffany Thayer and Edwin J. Burke

Adapted from a salacious novel by Tiffany Thayer, Call Her Savage was former silent star Clara Bow’s second-to-last film before her retirement at the age of 28. She plays Texas gal Nasa Springer, who’s always had a “savage” temper she can’t explain. In the space of 88 minutes she goes from wild teenager to jilted newlywed to young mother to prostitute to wealthy society girl to alcoholic before finally (it’s implied) settling down with her Native-American friend after discovering that she’s half-Native-American, something the audience has known all along.

Bow’s performance is frankly astonishing, to the point where you simply can’t believe what you’re seeing from one moment to the next. Sample scenes see her savagely whipping both a snake and her Indian friend, smashing a guitar over a musician’s head and violently wrestling her Great Dane… and that’s all in the first five minutes. She’s also frequently in a state of near undress throughout—one funny scene has her maids chasing her with a dressing gown because they’re afraid she’ll run down the street in her négligée.

The rest of the film includes alcohol, adultery, strong violence, attempted rape, murder, syphilis (not named, but heavily implied) and baby death. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of outrageous content and Bow is pure dynamite throughout. The film is also noted for being one of the first on-screen portrayals of homosexuality, when Nasa visits a gay bar in the Village frequented by “wild poets and anarchists”.

Smarty (1934) Directed by Robert Florey, written by Carl Erickson and F. Hugh Herbert

This deeply problematic sex comedy features pre-Code stars Joan Blondell and Warren William (often nicknamed ‘The King of Pre-Code’) at their absolute filthiest. Blondell plays Vicki, a capricious, happily married wife who gets an obvious kick out of taunting her husband, Tony (William). When he cracks and slaps her at a party, she divorces him and marries her lawyer, Vernon (Edward Everett Horton), whom she also goads into slapping her in a deliberate ploy to win back Tony.

Essentially, Smarty hinges on Vicki liking rough sex and it’s completely blatant about it, ending with her sighing “Hit me again” (the film’s UK title!) as they sink into a clinch on a couch, a rapturous expression on her face. It’s a controversial film because on the surface it looks like it’s condoning domestic violence, but it’s very clearly about Vicki’s openly expressed sexual desires—she wants to be punished and dominated, she just has a rather dodgy way of getting what she wants.

It might be unsophisticated, but in some ways Smarty is remarkably ahead of its time and ripe for rediscovery. To that end, it would make a fascinating double bill with Stephen Shainberg’s Secretary (2002). Oh, and it’s also chock-full of lingerie scenes (like most pre-Code films), if you like that sort of thing.

Massacre (1934) Directed by Alan Crosland, written by Sheridan Gibney, Ralph Block and Robert Gessner

Several pre-Code films (notably those made by Warner Bros) took a no-punches-pulled approach to their depiction of social issues, and star Richard Barthelmess actively sought out such projects. Here he plays Joe Thunderhorse, a Native American who’s become famous on the rodeo circuit. When he returns to his tribe to bury his father, he ends up fighting for their rights, taking on corrupt government officials and religious authorities.

Massacre is fascinating because on the one hand it’s wildly insensitive—Barthelmess and co-star Ann Dvorak are both cast as Native Americans—but on the other, it burns with a righteous fury and does more than any other Hollywood film (before or since) to champion the rights and highlight the injustices dealt out to Native Americans. That fury is encapsulated in a horrifying and rightly upsetting rape scene (it happens off-screen, but the cuts leave you in no doubt) that the film handles with surprising sensitivity.

In addition to being a passionate fight against racism and social injustice, the film also has some genuinely shocking sexual content. Most notably, Joe is seen making love to a rich white woman (Claire Dodd, who’s also in Smarty) who has an obvious sexual fetish, flaunting him in front of her friends and making a shrine in her room with Native-American paraphernalia.

The Sign of the Cross (1932) Directed by Cecil B. DeMille, written by Waldemar Young and Sidney Buchman

Yes, this is Cecil B. DeMille again, but no list of weird and wild pre-Code films would be complete without the jaw-dropping ancient Rome epic, The Sign of the Cross. Adapted from an 1895 play by Wilson Barrett, it stars Frederic March as Marcus Superbus (stop sniggering at the back there), who’s torn between his loyalty to Emperor Nero (Charles Laughton) and his love for a Christian woman (Elissa Landi), while also fending off the advances of the Emperor’s wife, Poppaea (Claudette Colbert).

The film is racy enough in its sexual content alone: highlights include the famous scene of Claudette Colbert taking a nude milk bath and an erotic “lesbian” dance sequence, where Joyzelle Joyner’s “most wicked and talented woman in Rome” does ‘The Dance of the Naked Moon’ at Frederic March’s orgy, trying to tempt Landi’s virtuous Christian, to the obvious arousal of the gathered guests.

However, it’s the climactic gladiatorial-arena sequence that will leave your jaw on the floor. Lasting around twelve minutes, it includes: someone getting eaten by a tiger, a tied-up, naked women being approached by hungry crocodiles, pygmies getting chopped up by female barbarians, elephants stomping on heads, a gorilla approaching a naked woman tied to a stake, a man getting gored by a bull, and gladiators fighting to the death, complete with blood and gory injury detail.

The whole thing is genuinely horrifying, even for 2021. Best of all, DeMille pointedly critiques the audience (ourselves included), by showing a series of reaction shots ranging from intense enjoyment to abject seen-it-all-before boredom.

Matthew Turner (FilmFan1971) is a critic, author, podcaster and lifelong film fanatic. His favorite film is ‘Vertigo’. The films in this article are also listed here: Five of the Pre-Code Era’s Most Outrageous Films.

[alphadaddyderek]

random sterek fic. kinda dark so...(hybristophilia, specifically, murder)

Stiles knew it was wrong. Like, come on now, it’s murder. But! Was it really so bad? ‘Cause think about it: yes, murder is wrong, no, it doesn’t make it better that the person/thing that got murdered was a bad person/thing, but, the way Derek does it?

It’s just hot as fuck.

Derek could snap someone's neck one minute, then in the next minute be like “wanna go out for dinner?”

It’s insane and it should be very disconcerting. Which it totally is! Well, it was. When Stiles was 16. Back then he was just about unnerved by everything Derek did. He’s very intimidating, okay!

Now, though? As an adult? He’s so desensitized to this shit, and it’s morphed its way from being alarming to being tolerable to being full on aphrodisiacal. 

It really is insane. Like tonight for example.

Stiles is at the loft, reading a book and snuggling with their cat, Kitkat. Stiles picked the name and he’s not ashamed one bit. It’s January, and it’s uncharacteristically cold in the loft, although it's always cold at the loft, it’s usually never this cold. The central heating in there is bonkers. Anyway, Derek left to help Scott and Isaac chase down a wendigo, again. Derek told Stiles not to worry about it, which, Stiles definitely tried to do and nearly had an aneurysm for his troubles. Stiles is anxiously waiting for Derek to return, it’s one thing for Derek to run head first into danger while Stiles is there because at least then Stiles could keep an eye on him. It’s another thing entirely when Derek goes on these little trips without Stiles. Derek could be bleeding out from a gash to the chest on the forest floor for all Stiles knows. 

Stiles is starting to work himself up into a panic attack, which is never good but especially when he’s alone, when the door to the loft opens up. Stiles’ head whips towards the loft door to look, to make sure that it’s Derek and not Scott coming to deliver the worst news Stiles would get since the news of his mother. 

Stiles lets out a sigh of relief when Derek is the one walking through the door, clothes clean and free of blood or rips. Stiles instantly stands up and crosses the room so fast that Derek hadn’t even closed the door yet before Stiles was all in his space. 

“Well hello to you too,” Derek jokes with a smirk before finally closing the loft door. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure I didn’t have to find a new place to live. That would be a huge hassle,” Stiles replied even though Stiles knew that Derek knew that he was lying. 

“I thought I told you not to worry,” Derek says, crossing his arms and giving Stiles The Eyebrow. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “It’s like you don’t even know me. All I do is worry.”

Derek very not subtly sniffs the air, before looking at Stiles again. “I can smell that. Are you okay?”

Stiles huffs before finally wrapping his arms around Derek like he’s been wanting to for the past minute. “I’m fine. Are you okay? You’re the one flying into danger with nothing but nails and teeth.”

Derek wraps his arms around Stiles with a chuckle. “You are grossly underestimating just how good I am at defending myself with said nails and teeth.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Can we go sit down now?”

Derek pinches Stiles in the side and ducks out of the hug before Stiles has a chance to retaliate. Stiles narrows his eyes at Derek.

“See. This is why I’m going to break up with you and start dating Cora. How about that?”

Derek snorts, something that Derek would’ve never done 6 years ago. Stiles can’t help but smile.

“Yeah right. Anyway, since you were so worried about me, I have something that’ll cheer you up,” Derek states.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Stiles asks, although he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer. As stated earlier, Stiles thinks that Derek killing is super hot. It’s a huge kink for him and Derek knows it. Derek has no problem exploiting that kink. None. Nada. Zip. 

So, whenever Derek ends someone’s life, Stiles wants to fuck him. He wants to hear all the gory details because that’s part of the kink.

It’s fucked up. Like, so fucked up. If Stiles’ father ever found out about this he’d probably have a coronary. 

“Wanna sit down first?” Derek asks. He’s teasing. He knows that Stiles wants to hear all the murder details and he’s being a grade A dick about it.

Stiles huffs, for the second time in the span of 2 minutes, and grabs Derek’s arm before dragging him towards the couch that their cat has long abandoned and depositing him onto one of the cushions. Stiles falls down beside him and waits not so patiently for Derek to speak.

Fortunately for Stiles, Derek takes mercy on him and fills him in. And oooh boy, it’s graphic. Derek actually did end up getting blood and innards on his clothes but he had a change of clothes in the car, which explains the lack of blood and innards on his clothes right now.

Of course, because Stiles is a fucking freak who loves this shit, he’s immensely turned on and he needs to fuck Derek as soon as humanly possible. 

And by the look that Derek is giving him, Stiles thinks that will happen very, very soon.

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #7-9

November, 1984

BERSERKER!

The death of an Avenger! The X-Men’s greatest battle! And, introducing the all-new SPIDER-WOMAN!

The cover sure isn’t burying the lede. This comic sure does introduce an All-New (presumably All-Different) Spider-Woman! Jessica Drew, move over! For now. You’ll be the Spider-Woman that endures in the long run.

Last times on Secret Wars: Some amazingly powerful being from Beyond the universe called the Beyonder kidnaps a bunch of heroes, villains, shades thereof, and chunks of random planets to put on a big toy commercial where action figures can bonk off each other.

The X-Men ditched the other heroes to do their own thing, as they’re wont to do. The villains storm the hero base and drop a mountain on them. The heroes take refuge at a small village where Johnny Storm finds a new girlfriend but there’s also a Galactus.

Galactus starts preparing a device to eat Battleworld, which would let him win the toy commercial in one fell swoop.

Oh, and Wasp was kidnapped by Magneto, escaped, crashed her escape ship, found the Lizard, and then got lasered to death by the Wrecking Crew. It was a Bad Time and I am sad, even though we know Wasp will be okay by the time they get back from Battleworld.

This time: Further not burying the lede.

The cover promised a new Spider-Woman and dammit, here’s one right away, first page. Truth in advertising!

Spider-Woman herself wastes no time introducing herself to everyone, that she comes from a chunk of Denver that got raptured by the Beyonder (still want that miniseries), that she came to help when she saw evidence of super fighting, and that she can pick up and throw large rocks so clearly she’d be able to help.

Captain America is hesitant about all this and Spider-Woman assumes that he thinks she’s a spy but as Captain America points out, why would Doom need to mess around with spies when he’s got so much power at his disposal.

Spider-Man is also hesitant at this new character. For different reasons.

Spider-Man: “She tossed that boulder as easily as I could have... at least! I wonder if she sticks to walls, too! And I wonder if I can sue her for infringing on my shticks! I should have gotten a patent or trademark or something...”

Cap tries to settle on the argument that a Secret War is too dangerous but Spider-Woman has the exceptional point “I suspect that it’s no less dangerous for the spectators, Captain America -- I might as well pitch in!”

And then the obvious toy pitch vehicle that the Wrecking Crew was driving in the swamp yesterday drives through the village blowing shit up, restarting the fires that the heroes just put out, and most insultingly of all, throwing Wasp van Dyne’s dead deceased corpse out the hatch before driving off.

Those dicks.

The heroes rush to Wasp and take her to Zsaji. That cool lady tries to heal Wasp but Jan has no pulse and isn’t breathing and might be beyond Cura. This may take Phoenix Down.

But since she went and got herself disintegrated on the Moon, Wasp is clearly dead forever.

-Looks over at Avengers #243- Hush, you!

The assembled heroes want to rush Doombase and kick the shit out of the villains and specifically the Wrecking Crew but Captain America tells them no.

Captain America: “Now, listen to me -- ! While we’re off getting even, what if Galactus starts to use that world-eating machine he’s building up on that mountain? Then every living thing on this world -- including these innocent villagers and all those people from that suburb of Denver will die! We’ve got to stay right here, ready to attack him! We may have only seconds to react when it begins!”

She-Hulk storms off while the other heroes debate the Galactus situation.

I’m sure this is fine.

Meanwhile, on the more volcano-y side of the planet, Xavier orders Cyclops, Rogue, and Wolverine to pursue Doom’s Four villains Molecule Man, Titania, Absorbing Man, and Doctor Octopus to try to capture them before they can return to Doom.

Back over at Doombase, Titania sees that her “little Owie” has been badly hurt and begs Enchantress to help.

Volcana: “Enchantress! You’re a sorceress! You could use your magic to transport me to my Owen!”

Enchantress -busy getting drunk-: “Yes... but why would I, mortal?”

Volcana: “Well... because... because I need you to! I can’t fly a ship! I -- I don’t even have a driver’s license for a car! Ultron won’t help me -- ! He only takes orders from Doom!”

Enchantress: “It takes much energy to transport a body as bloated as yours! I cannot be bothered!”

Wow! You’re a dick!

Volcana catches a lot of fat jokes and she’s not depicted as looking any different from Standard Comic Book Body Type. But also, don’t fatshame at all, Enchantress.

Anyway, Volcana promises anything to Enchantress if she helps.

Enchantress: “Rash words, mortal wench... and later, you shall deeply regret them!”

Its very handy for the villains that Volcana just showed up because their airship almost immediately gets show down by the X-Men. So even with Molecule Man out of commission, their numbers are back to Doom’s Four. And Volcana calls dibs on beating up Wolverine.

The X-Men have numbers but they’re not doing super well. Professor X is on the scene trying to be the field leader but the chaos of the battle and the villains’ minds being blocked by Enchantress’ magic makes it hard for him to coordinate.

Magneto even gets smack-talked by Absorbing Man.

Absorbing Man: “Tell me, Magneto. What’s scum like you doin’ hangin’ around with the X-Men? Sure, they’re outlaws -- but I thought you was big time! You got mass murder raps, manslaughter, terrorism, what else? Probably everything! You’re one of us! On second thought, a creampuff like you belongs with them losers!”

I can’t believe Magneto has to take that from a man who constantly carries a large metal orb with him everywhere.

Wolverine manages to slice off Absorbing Man’s arm, although the guy was made of rock at the time so it wasn’t as gory as it could have been.

Absorbing Man just. Picks up his arm and runs off to hit someone with it.

Amazing.

The villains manage to pin down the heroes with some Volcana blast and then steal one of the X-Men’s ships and get away.

Professor X declares that this is Totally a victory.

Xavier: “We lost nothing, save one of our ships -- which matters little -- and we gained much! We coalesced as a fighting unit passing our greatest test to date and I think we proved ourselves -- beyond a doubt!”

Like, you had a scuffle with some villains that ended inconclusively even though you had the advantage of a sneak attack, the villains stole one of your ships, and there was no major damage to either side.

It was largely pointless. But I guess Xavier has a vested interest in declaring it a huge success since it was his inaugural go at being field commander.

Meanwhile, skulking around Galactus’ ship, DOOM complains about doing that.

Doom: “Doctor Doom - a burglar! Rummaging about in another being’s home, seeking to steal some priceless thing! Bah! What choice do I have? I need a key, a way -- ! My armor’s sensors have led me to prize after prize -- hundreds, thousands of devices which, in the hands of a man as brilliant as myself could provide power to conquer entire galaxies -- ! Yet, all of them combined are not enough to defeat Galactus -- let alone the Beyonder! There must be a way! Doom must be supreme!”

Unfortunately for Doom, despite the volcano distraction making Galactus sigh and have to spend time fixing the planet so he can eat it, he senses something amiss in his house and mentally yeets Doom back to Battleworld.

The villains return back to Doombase but Doctor Octopus can’t help Molecule Man because dammit he’s a nuclear physicist, not a medical doctor! Ultron tells Volcana that there are medical devices that could fix Molecule Man up nicely but since he doesn’t have any relevant orders from Doom, he’s just going to stand here and look pretty. And Enchantress says she could heal him with a wave of her hand but refuses to because Volcana already gave her a blank check.

Absorbing Man returns and reattaches his arm by basically hoping like hell it’ll just be better if he holds it in place when he reverts to skin flesh.

And the Wrecking Crew have to throw the Lizard into a cell because he hasn’t stopped trying to eat their faces for killing Wasp, his new best friend.

The Wrecking Crew doesn’t get a chance to enjoy being back at base because She-Hulk has broken in and beats the crap out of them off-screen.

Titania comes in and starts fighting She-Hulk STARTING AN ENDURING RIVALRY.

Its fun how much got its start in Secret Wars.

The two fight more or less evenly from what I can tell but uh Doctor Octopus joins in as does the Absorbing Man and the Wrecking Crew once they catch their breath.

And She-Hulk is strong but this is a stomp.

In another part of Doombase where the Enchantress is sitting in “sullen reverie” refusing to get involved in the fight she can here, instead thinking about how much she’s going to seduce the crap out of Thor.

Doom arrives at Himbase after being expelled from Galactus’ ship and refuses to explain anything to Enchantress. He just stumbles over to his sweet bed and collapses in it.

Doom: “It is over... Finished...”

Back over at Zsaji’s Village, the heroes realize that She-Hulk took off. Hawkeye figures that she went after the villains and asks to go after her.

Hawkeye: “She can’t take ‘em alone, Cap! She needs us!”

Huh! When the chips are down even though they fought, Clint and Jen sure are coworkers.

Hulk also asks to go after her since she’s his cousin. The acknowledgement of which is what I’ve been wanting all along.

But Cap tells them no.

Hulk: “I don’t suppose you’d consider putting it to a vote?”

Trying to appeal to his love of democracy. How wily.

Captain America: “My heart would vote ‘yes’ in a minute... Too many innocent lives are at stake here, though! Many more than the few people on this planet -- we’ve got a universe depending on what we do here! We can’t allow ourselves the luxury of making decisions with our hearts!”

But Cap receives a psychic skype from Professor X who tells him that the X-Men can take Galactus watching duty for a bit so run along and save your teammate, you scamp.

Cap accepts.

Its fun how the tide of battle has shifted back and forth.

Now the heroes are largely fresh, having been sitting on their ass staring at Galactus, and the villains are bloodied from several fights with the X-Men and She-Hulk. Plus, their big gun Molecule Man got Wolverine’d.

But next issue is something so big that it overshadows basically everything else in Secret Wars.

December, 1984

INVASION!

YEAH ITS VENOM

OR WILL BE

Also, a bunch of other stuff happens. The cover is kind of funny for maybe unintentionally presaging what would happen where the black costume being more remembered than everything else in Secret Wars in general but definitely this issue specifically.

There’s actually a lot of really cool stuff happening in this issue.

Cap(tain America)’s group of heroes storms Doom’s Doombase, lucking out that Doom is too stunned by being expelled from Galactus’ ship to attempt any kind of defense and nobody else on his team has the braincells to be watching out for an attack.

Enchantress hears the heroes breaking in but she’s well and truly drunk by this point.

And bemoans her secret god meeting with Thor. That she was going to try to cast a spell on him to bend him to her will but is aware that she might have flipped good for him instead. And even now wonders what she’ll do if Thor shows up in front of her.

The villains still beating She-Hulk to her death hear the heroes breaking into the base and run off to ambush them, Doc Ock slamming She-Hulk against some wreckage as a coup de grace.

Wrecker gets the jump on Iron Man and Doc Ock dumps a convenient tank of water on Human Torch but Spider-Man jumps in and drops Bulldozer with one punch before he can pulp an extinguished Johnny.

The Thing tries fighting Absorbing Man but wouldn’t you know it, the Thing’s thingness fades at the worst time again, leaving him powerless.

Spider-Woman jumps in to save him.

She didn’t get to really do much in her actual introductory issue, despite being on the cover and splash. She just kinda shows up and goes ‘i can definitely help!’

She makes a much better second impression this time. Almost like she’s aware that she needs to sell herself.

Spider-Woman: “A clean knockout -- ! Of the awesome Absorbing Man -- ! And it’s only the fifth time I’ve ever been in a fight! The new Spider-Woman wins again!”

Marvel really wants you to like this non-Jessica Drew.

Piledriver charges Hawkeye, mocking him for missing with his arrows and gloating that arrows are useless to a guy who’s immune to bullets.

Piledriver: “Hawkeye the Archer! Hah! Boy you gonna need Hawkeye the M.A.S.H. doctor in a minute -- ‘cause I reckon this good ol’ boy is gonna ‘mash’ you!”

Good one, Piledriver. Good banter.

Hawkeye: “Those shots were just warnings, dummy! I don’t want to have to hit you! From my bow, at this range, an arrow hits a lot harder than any bullet! Back off... please...”

We did learn in the Hawkeye mini that Hawkeye’s bow has a ridiculous draw strength.

This is a pretty good Hawkeye moment people don’t really point to a lot.

Also, I do love when an invincible or durable person who isn’t used to getting hurt gets hurt once and goes ‘NOPE! I DO NOT CARE FOR THIS!’

Hulk busts into Enchantress’ drinking room and unfortunately falls for her “I am but a helpless female!” routine. She gets all up in his business, magically puts him to sleep, and then pours herself another drink.

It could have been a good day for Enchantress if Captain America hadn’t come in right after.

Captain America: “What have you done to the Hulk?”

Enchantress: “For the moment, he is merely asleep. Doubtless dreaming dreams of me! But, alas, he can never truly have me, for I am yours, my handsome captain! Am I not beautiful? Come to me...”

Points for audacity but Captain America is a champion of not thinking with his dick. Blah blah willpower is legendary, socked Prometheus in the noggin. You get it.

Anyway, he socks Enchantress in the noggin with his shield and knocks her out.

Hawkeye and unthinged Ben try to find the rest of the heroes but run into Klaw and Lizard, who Klaw let out of his cell because he didn’t like to see anyone imprisoned but also because he liked the way Lizard talks. What an audiophile.

Ben Grimm: “Uh... any ideas, Hawk?”

Hawkeye: “Well... I guess we’ll have to outwit ‘em!”

Ben Grimm: “Us?!”

Hah.

Thor, Iron Man, Spider-Woman, and Mr Fantastic find Volcana and Molecule Man.

Iron Man makes the dubious tactical decision to charge right into Volcana’s plasma burst and burns out his armor.

Mr Fantastic pulls him out of the way and the other heroes try to get through Molecule Man’s fused air molecules invisible shield. They fail until Captain Marvel just lightbeams right through it. Because its transparent.

Love it. Love that her power works like that. Because it should.

Captain Marvel grabbing Molecule Man pulls open his Wolverine wounds and he passes out. Volcana surrenders to spare her boyfriend more pain.

Not that Monica intended that or knew he was wounded. This is still early Monica before Nextwave hardened her outlook. This is the Monica who was horrified when Blackout and Moonstone got pulled through a singularity.

Titania tried to drop a forty-ton beam on the heroes’ heads but is interrupted by Spider-Man thanks to his spectacular spider-sense.

She out-muscles him by a lot but she can’t actually lay a hit on him because he’s got superior spider agility. Maybe if she had more experience it’d be different but she’s basically in the angry flailing stage of her skill tree so far.

Spidey brags “With a little room to operate, no one can lay a glove on me -- not the X-Men, not the Absorbing Man, and not you!”

Titania: “When I get you I’ll -- AGGH!”

Spider-Man: “All you’re going to get is frustrated... and, eventually, trashed!”

Titania: “No! It’s not fair! *UHH!*”

Spider-Man: “But, if we were fighting in a broom closet, that’d be fair, right?”

Titania: “Stop it! Stop it! Stop -- !”

Spider-Man: “You ought to be happy, cuddles! You aspired to be a bully, and, man, you’re a classic! You talk tough and nasty when you’ve got the upper hand -- but when you’re losing -- well, that’s when the whining little wimp-ette inside comes spilling out!”

And then he defenestrates her without a window.

Fun fact: she apparently developed a Spider-Man phobia from this.

Understandably.

Y’know, in terms of embarrassing and traumatizing people, Spider-Man is having a good run in this story.

Captain American and Human Torch find a passed out Piledriver who fainted from blood loss after staggering away. And they find Ultron, standing between them and Doom.

Ultron is an Avengers-tier stomper who takes down entire teams and there’s just two heroes who coincidentally were both portrayed by Chris Evans. And the Human Torch’s fire is ineffective as Ultron gloats.

Ultron: “The core of the hottest star could not melt my adamantium body, human! Nothing can harm me! I am invincible! I am mechanically precise and computer-swift! I am perfect!”

When Ultron grapples Human Torch and starts throttling him, Cap tells him to use his nova-flame. Then hides behind his shield.

The flame melts a good portion of the room and the air being superheated somehow doesn’t make Cap crispy. And when the nova flare of the nova flame fades, Ultron’s chassis is still intact.

But the heat damaged something inside and Ultron is down. Johnny is also down, spent from the nova.

I like that the Fantastic Four would have their own way to deal with Ultron should that ever come up. Has it? You’d think it would.

Captain America proceeds to Doom alone but Doom is non-responsive from being Galactus’d.

And Reed, Spider-Man, and Hulk finds Hawkeye and Ben Grimm, where they have outwitted Klaw and Lizard.

Lizard: “Disssturb our gamess-s and the Lizard will dessstroy you! Once we finissh, we will do as you s-ssay!”

Well, whatever works!

With the fighting done, Captain Marvel finds She-Hulk, barely alive. The heroes jam her into a healing tube saving her in the nick of time.

The heroes also jam the villains into healing tubes because they’re heroes and are nice like that.

Considering the heroes were fighting to take prisoners and the villains very much weren’t, it’s lucky that the heroes won the majority of conflicts and got away from the one they didn’t.

The villains that didn’t need bacta treatments - or whatever is in those tubes - got shoved into cells. Also, Doom, because he might need the healing juice but it would require peeling him out of his armor and its probably booby-trapped.

Hawkeye and Captain Marvel return to the village to bring Wasp’s body to DoomHerobase for a funeral but they’re in for a surprise.

It turns out that Zsaji WAS able to heal Wasp who wasn’t dead just in a laser-induced death-like stasis. AS YA DO. It nearly killed Zsaji to bring Wasp back from such grievous injuries.

Colossus learns this by getting into her exposition drugs while she’s passed out and mind-melding with her.

Of course, it just makes the big lug fall deeper in love with her.

The important takeaway is that Wasp is alive. Just like we knew that she would be. The universe has been set right.

Over at Herobase, Reed Richards fixes the Iron Man armor after Rhodey got it a little melted.

Iron Man, James Rhodes: “I’m curious... were you surprised there was a black man under the metal?”

Reed Richards: “Hmm... No, I never gave it a thought! I knew there was a man under there...”

Its a nice exchange.

Its kinda ruined retroactively by Illuminati revealing that Reed knew Tony was Iron Man and would have known about Tony having to step down due to his alcoholism and likely knew about Rhodey taking over.

Dammit, Illuminati!

Elsewhere in the base, Spider-Man spots Hulk and Thor coming out of a room with Thor sporting a brand new cape and helmet. They tell Spidey that there’s a device in there that will make any clothes you want.

Except Spider-Man doesn’t bother asking which device and they don’t bother specifying so Spidey just picks the likeliest one and gets a black glob.

An important black glob.

To eventually be revealed to be an alien goo symbiote and later eventually tied to a dark god that predates the universe.

But for right now, its a way to incorporate a new costume design that a fan submitted. And Spider-Man handwaves it not looking like his old costume by assuming he was thinking of the new Spider-Woman.

So that’s how it is, Pete? She ‘ripped’ you off so you’re gonna rip her off?

You know whats really funny?

A month before this came out, in Spider-Man’s own book, he had learned that the costume was a living symbiote and had gotten rid of it.

It be like that with Secret Wars but its still funny that we’re finally seeing him get the costume just as he’s getting rid of it.

Anyway, Spider-Man’s new costume buzz is interrupted by the planet shaking and someone yelling in his brain.

Professor X: “CAPTAIN AMERICA! COME AT ONCE! IT HAS BEGUN! GALACTUS IS DEVOURING THE PLANET!”

It’s nice that the crises are waiting their turn.

January, 1985

ASSAULT ON GALACTUS!

The issue titles for this story are all so excited.

The X-Men were left on Galactus watching duty so when the big lug starts trying to eat the planet, the X-Men charge in to attack him.

Hm.

Y’know, I sometimes wonder what iconic storylines would have been like if a different set of characters handled it. This used to be great What If fodder. I know there was one where the Avengers tackled Galactus’ first appearance. And because it was the tone of What If at the time to viciously shoot down any divergence of the 616 timeline, THINGS WENT HORRIBLY WRONG.

Think of it like the Turn Left episode of Doctor Who.

POINT BEING, I wonder how the X-Men would have handled Galactus’ first appearance. Of course, this would be the O5 roster so they’d have their work cut out for them.

Heck, even with Storm on the team, the X-Men are over their heads with Galactus.

She hits him with two massive lightning bolts and Galactus keeps working like he didn’t even notice.

The X-Men seem to realize how out of their depth they are (especially sans Phoenixes, their usual Galactus-fighting go-to) but at Professor Xavier’s command they charge in anyway.

Galactus sends out a defensive drone so he can continue not paying the X-Men any mind and the mutants find themselves completely bogged down in fighting the drone while Galactus does his thing.

And from Zsaji’s sweet village, Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Hawkeye see a massive explosion where the X-Men were.

I guess they’re totally dead forever.

Wasp: “Should we head up there now?”

Hawkeye: “No! We’d better wait for Cap... and strike as a unit!”

Hah.

Its the expression, really. Like Hawkeye thinking to himself ‘oh I want no part of that.’

The non-X-Men assemble at Herobase to rush to the fight.

Mr. Fantastic: “Hurry! No telling how long the X-Men can hold out!”

Spider-Man: “Yeah! Where’s the rest of the alphabet when you need it?”

HAH!

Oh, Spider-Man, you are a delight.

In the airship over, Thor notices that Hulk looks glum and tries to cheer him up.

Thor: “If ‘tis that you do not fit in these chairs that depresses you, count yourself fortunate! They were made, I think, for insect men... or by trolls, for torture! If ‘tis the impending battle troubling thee -- just think! What greater chance for glory has man or god e’er known? More even than Ragnarok, this is the battle I was born millennia ago to fight! You, too, are a warrior born, Hulk! A taste of battle and the berserker battle-lust shall rise in thy soul!”

Hulk: “I doubt it! I lost that when I gained the intelligence of my human side -- Bruce Banner! And now I’m slowly losing that, too! I’m not savage enough... or smart enough to be a relevant factor!”

Well, You Tried, Thor.

Johnny Torch is trying to cheer up Ben Grimm who is as grim as his name over his powers popping in and out as they please.

And then the rocks pop back on just as Ben is dramatically bemoaning that he can’t control them.

The Thing: “Whoopie! I’m the Thing again! I’m so happy, I even like you!”

Human Torch: “Yeow! You lummox! Put me down! Jeez, I can see the headlines -- ‘affectionate hug slays Human Torch en route to battle -- universe destroyed as a result’!’“

This book has some decent lines.

Iron Man ogles Spider-Woman under the pretense of not trusting her but then goes a little ‘I’ll show them all!’

Iron Man: “A lot of guys have worked with Iron Man before -- but that was when Tony Stark was in this suit! I think they’ve started to realize there’s a different guy in here, now... an’ they got their doubts! They’re keepin’ their distance -- don’t quite trust me yet! Don’t matter! As long as I got this armor, I’m one ba-ad dude -- especially since Richards souped it up! As soon as that fight starts, I’ll show ‘em -- show ‘em I’m Iron Man! The real Iron Man! James Rhodes is Iron Man -- now and forever!”

Rhodey pls.

Also meanwhile, because this is a long flight, Spider-Man starts hopping all around the interior of the airship overexcited because he’s just discovered that the totally benign goo suit he got has webshooters!

And he squirts Johnny in the face to prove it because that’s just how Spider-Man is sometimes.

Johnny complains that this webbing is even harder to burn than his old stuff which will turn itself into a bit of a plot hole down the line when its revealed that symbiotes are weak to fire.

Whoops.

Its fine though. Pre-modern Venom has always had sloppy writing around it.

He also demonstrates the goo suit’s ability to change shape.

I can’t believe that Marvel were cowards and never had Peter go around in the Summer Variant suit.

Reed lets himself go down a melancholic musing rabbit hole and starts poking holes in the story logic.

Mr. Fantastic: “At face value, the whole thing is absurd! Why would a being so far removed from us and so powerful as the Beyonder bring us across the universe for a stupid, simplistic ‘good-versus-evil’ gladiatorial contest? Is he a mad god? A cosmic idiot? And why us? Why this odd collection of beings, mostly from Earth? And why Galactus? He doesn’t fit! Human beings and even gods may be tempted, but Galactus is a force of nature -- no more capable of having enemies than a hurricane or an earthquake! Why is he here? There must be more to this... but what possible purpose could there be?”

Credit where its due, these are things I’ve been wondering!

But Reed is so busy pondering this that he runs the airship into the energy discharge from Galactus’ machine and crashes the ship on top of Colossus.

Smooth move, absent minded professor.

With only seconds before the world starts to burn, the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and assorted leap into battle against Galactus.

Iron Man manages to get past Galactus’ defense drones and punch his world eating engine, thanks to the upgrades done to the armor.

But now that they’re being successful, Reed interjects and tells them to stop winning so hard. Yes, really.

Mr. Fantastic: “Ben, we can’t go through with this! At last I see a purpose here -- a meaning to the universe for this insane conflict! WE MUST NOT STOP GALACTUS!’

Then Galactus effortlessly blasts the heroes away.

Which, if nothing else, gives Reed a chance to catch his breath to EXPOSIT MORE.

Mr. Fantastic: “For the first time this whole thing makes seom sense to me! I see a possible purpose in it! This is a chance to rid our universe of the threat of Galactus! All we have to do is let him win this contest! If the Beyonder indeed, grants hsi wish, he’ll be freed of his planet-consuming hunger at long last!”

The Thing: “And if the Beyonder reneges?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Re-energized by consuming this world, Galactuc will attack -- I know it! And force the Beyonder to pay up -- or be destroyed in the attempt. Any way you look at it... the universe wins! Countless billions who would have eventually fallen prey to Galactus -- will live in peace!”

Spider-Man: “Yeah, but why us? Why were we picked to decide the fate of the universe?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Why not us? We picked ourselves, remember? Besides... we beings of Earth seem to have a knack for being pivotal in the cosmic scheme of things.”

Reed, some offense but you’re the last person who should be speaking on this.

Galactus is only alive now because you had a hunch that he had some Big Important Role in the cosmic order and saved his life.

You may remember that because THE ENTIRETY OF SPACE PUT YOU ON TRIAL FOR IT.

Turning around on that because now you have a different hunch that everything will be a-okay if the Beyonder kills Galactus, is just such a classic Reed move.

Anyway, the discussion ends because Galactus raptures Reed and the entire mountaintop his machine was sitting on.

Since the suspects of Reed rapturing were Galactus or the Beyonder, its not very surprising that its Galactus forcibly inviting Reed up to his solar-system sized apartment.

What, you thought that the Beyonder would be more present in this story that it initiated? Fool.

Anyway, Galactus wants to have a friendly talk at Reed. Because Galactus is one of the few people that can talk down at Reed and he just has to sit tight and listen.

Meanwhile, over at the former Doombase, locked in a Doomcell, its Doom. Still in his catatonia OR IS IT?

Doom: “THE WORLD SHIP IS THE WAY! Galactus’s home itself is the way I seek! At last, I see!”

He activates the get-out-of-jail-free button hidden in his ankle which activates a point-singularity power supply that busts the door off his cell.

He ignores all of the other imprisoned villains to free Klaw.

Doom: “You, yourself, Klaw, are a ‘recording’ of sorts, due to the time you spent as a wave of vibratory energy coursing through the walls of Galactus’s homeworld! Come with me!”

Klaw: “Where to? Toodle-oo, toodle-oo!”

Doom: “To the lab! I’m going to dissect you!”

Klaw: “Oh, good!”

If it were anyone else that would read as sarcastic.

Its also revealed that Doom talks to himself because he is constantly recording.

Doom: “Every utterance of Doom must be recorded for posterity!”

How on-brand.

Meanwhile, back over at where the fight was, Cyclops OPTIC BLASTS out of the hole Magneto buried the X-Men in to save them from Galactus’ exploding drone.

Good job, Magneto.

Buuut. The fight is over so the X-Men just vaguely wander over to Zsaji’s village to catch up with Captain America’s group.

Zsaji wakes up from her Wasp-healing coma and runs over... right past Colossus to embrace Johnny. To make Colossus sad in the background.

But Johnny is too worried about Reed being raptured to make out with his new space girlfriend right now.

The heroes debate what to do.

Cap(tain America) wants to just stand ready until Galactus comes back and Cap(tain Marvel) suggests finding some spaceships at former Doombase and mounting an assault on Galactus’ imagination-ruiningly huge homeship.

The Thing offers the daring option of ‘hey Reed said not to fight Galactus and dangit what Reed says goes!’

He’s as bad as the Inhumans, I swear.

Reed reappears right about when Iron Man and the Thing are about to come to blows over the ‘do whatever Reed says’ plan.

The Thing: “Stretch! What happened?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Not much! We had tea...”

NOW I KNOW that Galactus likely has some robot servant or device that makes tea for him. But I can’t get the image out of my head of Galactus holding a tiny teapot and serving Reed tea.

How dare this comic cut away and let that happen off-panel!

Anyway, their big OFF-PANEL talk?

Mr. Fantastic: “He told me that I was a ‘force of the universe’ just as he is -- ! That I’m a ‘universal champion of life’ just as he is an instrument of death!”

Now. Nooooow. Champion slash Avatar of Life is a legitimate thing in Marvel, once filled by, uh, Captain Marvel. The Kree guy version. So the position is open.

I just find it easier to believe that Galactus was saying random nonsense to try to befuddle Reed into doing what Galactus wants rather than it being official.

The Avatar of Life page on marvel wiki doesn’t seem to credit it. It only has two versions of Adam Warlock, Drax, and Cancerverse Mar-Vell.

Anyway.

Mr. Fantastic: “I don’t what to say! I’m more convinced than ever that it’s right to let Galactus do what he must! And if I’m a ‘Champion of Life’ does it not make sense to allow Galactus to slay us so that countless billions will live? Or was he telling me that I must fight to serve even these relatively few lives here? I just don’t know...”

Yeeeeah. More convinced than ever that Galactus was filling Reed’s brain with cognitive chaff so to speak.

But Ben “Thing” Grimm is like ‘hey if Reed tells me I gotta die for the good of the universe then I’m ready to die so we’re not fighting unless Reed says so.’

Hawkeye: “This is a real crock! We’ve got to fight! Quitters! Cowards!”

I rarely say this but I think Hawkeye has a point.

Anyway, Galactus reappears the mountaintop, his machine, and himself to get back to snacking on the planet.

Far be it from me to tell Galactus how to ‘mortals are beneath my notice’ but maybe he’d get better results relocating his machine to the other side of the planet. Get some element of surprise, a head start.

No? Fine.

Captain America: “All right, listen up! I’m going to fight! The rest of you come or not as your conscience dictates!”

Wasp: “We’re with you, Cap!”

Captain America: “Good! But first... I just want to tell you, Professor Xavier, that despite our differences, you and your people did us -- and the universe, as far as I’m concerned -- a great service, earlier!”

Professor Xavier: “It was an honor!”

Captain America: “I hope you, the X-Men... and Magneto will come and fight side by side with us now! No one here will deny you’ve earned that much!”

Think about all the grief that could have been saved if people were willing to give Magneto the benefit of the doubt at the beginning of the story! Womp womp!

Meanwhile at Doombase (because the heroes are all off doing stuff and when the heroes are away Doom gets his base back), Doom observes the battle against Galactus starting AND that the Beyonder has cracked open his portal to watch the fight.

But more importantly, Doom cut Klaw into slices.

Back over at the heroes fighting Galactus, the heroes are fighting Galactus.

As in, directly. No drones.

Its a sign that they’re making some sort of progress.

He’s still batting them around like leaves in the wind.

But the Terrific Three show up to actually help.

Mr. Fantastic: “Galactus used enormous amounts of energy transporting his homeworld here -- and I’m sure he hasn’t fed for months! His power is almost depleted! We can take him!”

Captain America: “Richards, I -- I’m glad you’re here -- but what made you change your mind?”

Mr. Fantastic: “I... thought about what Galactus said -- and I’m still not certain that, in the cosmic scheme of things, what we’re doing is right -- but I realized just how badly I want to see my baby born, Cap! I want that more than anything -- ! And I’m going to fight for it!”

Aww.

He’s going to be waiting a long time for that baby though.

Not because of comic book time but because of intense drama reasons.

The heroes manage to reach the top of the mountain and start trashing Galactus’ machine despite Reed insisting that they ignore it and prevent Galactus from escaping.

And Galactus just animation-cell-slides-up ‘I must return to my homeworld’ style.

And as Reed explains how badly they done fucked up, Galactus takes a last look around his homeworld/spaceship. Because he doesn’t need his machine to eat planets. It just makes the process more efficient. So if the heroes are going to be annoying about him eating Battleworld, he’s just going to eat his own dang home!

Mr. Fantastic: “He’s devouring his own living world -- perhaps the greatest energy source in the universe! Moments after he’s finished, this godforsaken planet will be next! We won’t be able to stop him this time! Then he’ll probably consume the sun too! He’ll want every iota of energy available in case he must do battle with the Beyonder! We’re dead men!”

Wow. Is that the most kirby krackle we’ve ever seen?

But as Galactus converts his home into POWER COSMIC, Doom is ready with his own plan to steal that power, aided by a series of lenses he’s turned Klaw into.

As ya do?

You’ll have to tune in to the last quarter of Secret Wars to see if Doom succeeds in doing that thing that he always tries to do.

My thought is: maybe.

Follow @essential-avengers​ for the good job I’m doing with these Secret Warses. Like and reblog maybe.

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 6)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death ~6800 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5 Read on AO3!  Disclaimer below the cut!

DISCLAIMER! -i reckon I don’t need the paste it again… but in short: this is a purely self-indulgent work which contains a lot of my own headcanons and whatnot. this chapter especially so! lots of talking and thinking - curious to see what you think!! THANKS FOR READING <3 Ikuro greeted him with a warm smile at the interrogation headquarters. "You produce results fast," he commented after Tobirama explained to him where his research had led him so far. They were sitting in the small office adjourning the holding cell block again. Tobirama could only muster a huff in response. "It is possible I'm being put under pressure by time." His tone was perfectly caustic again.

Ikuro, on the other hand, was entirely unfazed. Tobirama decided he appreciated that about the man; he never had been fond of fainthearted individuals. 

"I suggest we start with the least valuable prisoner," Ikuro then turned more serious, placing his broad hand on the table. "There is, after all, a chance this might backfire."

Tobirama nodded. A sensible thought. "That would be Akio." Then, he frowned. "However you noted he's broken already. Our goal is to gain information, too. All we'd confirm would be the drug wasn't lethal. And ascertain the bodily effects of this drug." As he spoke the words, he found the sensible approach - the logical one - didn’t sit too well with him.

Ikuro hummed affirmatively. "What do you suggest, Tobirama?", easily catching the uncertainty.

Tobirama crossed his arms. Frankly he had to ponder the question. There was merit in trying it in those who knew about the leash - but the danger of permanently harming or even killing them was there, too. However did they really know anything about the leash? Would they even relinquish their knowledge?

Had he reason to believe his drug could be considered  that  dangerous to not… take this risk?

He had no time. You had no time. "Let's try the strongest of them."

Ikuro's pale eyes lit up and flashed his teeth in a grin which otherwise might’ve let a shiver run down Tobirama’s spine. "That would be Zenji. The … polite fellow in the middle holding cell. You met him when you first came here."

Tobirama couldn’t have stopped the roll of his eyes even if he wanted to. He gave an exasperated groan. "Great. I’m thrilled to meet him again." That man would test his patience. Tobirama would refuse to guarantee for his safety.

Luckily, he wasn’t made to make any such promises. Ikuro rose to his feet, Tobirama followed suit. Before they set for the cells though, Tobirama explained his plan. Ikuro only nodded in agreement. An eerie kind of calm was settling over him when they finally entered the Stone shinobi’s cell block. It was not an unfamiliar feeling; rather a welcome kind of dissociation that had been well practiced in the warring states era. They all had, at some point, committed atrocious acts. Tobirama never looked back, his logic had been sound.

Just like this time. And what would follow here might be another ugly entry in a list of infamous cruelties - but another necessary one.

As they walked, he could feel the glances of the other prisoners on him as he passed them - and he spared none of them a single glance.

Once they stood in front of the cell, the lanky man’s eyes lit up in way too much delight. "How's the lady?", Zenji gloated immediately.

Tobirama ignored the question. If that was how he’d play it - he was ready. The ire burning under his skin was causing him to tremble almost still. A discussion, the man knew, might easily lead to bloodshed. And being riled up into beating up a chained up man was below Tobirama’s dignity. Although thinking about it provided some needed relief.

"Why are you keeping them like this?", he inquired quietly, hissing through clenched teeth, wondering about the fact all the cells were adjourned - what they did here, the others could hear.

Ikuro considered Tobirama with a thoughtful glance. "Additional pressure. They hear what we're doing to each of them on top of their own, ah, sessions."

Tobirama had guessed that was the reason.

He still felt like bloody murder. Rage like this - born from revenge - was a low motive, and Tobirama frankly despised himself for this. The only thing that mattered was whether one acted on their emotions or not, he knew. Yet he just had to remind himself of the fact that within less than a week, you'd run out of the despised drug  they had tethered you to. And that the man in front of him, Zenji, might know how to save your life.

All things were relative, after all.

Ikuro unlocked Zenji's cell. The man was chained up in the same fashion he had been before - no movement allowed except maybe a wiggle of his toes. The chains were suspended from the walls of the cell and over and over painted with various seals, a few of which Tobirama recognised. Chakra sealing seals mostly, as well as other, sinister uses.

They both stepped inside and Ikuro locked it again.

Zenji gave a haughty laugh. "Not gonna speak to me? Awh, come on. Maybe I'll give you a hint about the leash if you do." He wriggled his eyebrows almost suggestively. 

The blood was rushing in Tobirama's ear. His muscles were taut like a bow's string and it took every ounce of his willpower not to at least verbally jump at this man. Don’t, he chanted inwardly, don’t. Briefly, he closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as if to clear the berserk haze that wanted to settle over him.

Surprisingly, it worked somewhat.

Ikuro stepped to Zenji's side. "You're getting a treat, Zenji." A second later, his big hand had grabbed the back of his skull by his hair.

Tobirama stepped closer, procuring the vial from his pocket. 

Zenji laughed haughtily. "Ah, ah," his eyes were trained on the vial. "Trying to recreate the leash?"

Tobirama stood right in front of him then, glare icy while the rage inside burned ever hotter. His expression was perfectly neutral, he didn't even bat an eyelash. "I'm going to tether you to the leash, eventually." His voice was nonchalant despite the rage that wanted to eat him up. 

Zenji's eyes widened momentarily. Was there a hint of fear in them? But it was gone as soon as Tobirama thought he'd seen it. "You're gonna fail," the Stone shinobi spat, his smugness becoming caustic swiftly. "You can't ever hope to do that."

Tobirama tilted his head to the side, eyebrows rising slowly. "Why is that?", he asked, lazily, disinterested. Perhaps there  was  merit in trying to engage in a conversation with him, after all.

Zenji tried to whip his head from Ikuro's grasp, who just pulled harder at his scalp. "As if you'd be able to recreate it like that. You're fucking running out of leash and Y/n is gonna fucking die." His voice was dripping with hatred and no small amount of pleasure.

For just a second, Tobirama imagined ripping his throat out with his bare hands if just to ease the fury that was burning through every fiber of his body now; the gory picture helping momentarily not to  act  on it. Or at least verbally lash out. Still, he knew he’d despise himself for it - such an act was beneath him. The man was key to finding out how to save you. He had to keep telling himself in order to keep the white-hot rage crawling under his skin only. How he managed to retain his poker face was beyond him. Maybe the gruesome image did help.

He drew his lips into a condescending sneer. "I'm one of Konoha's most distinguished scientists. Don't think for a second I couldn't recreate anything your village came up with." His voice was dripping with arrogance. 

Zenji was retorting with a sneer of his own. Ikuro's lips were drawn in a fine smile. "You're fucking desperate is what you are," he snickered, "That drug is impossible to recreate. Too complicated." 

Tobirama gave only a lazy sigh and topped it off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "Yes, I suppose for the likes of you that might be true." He leaned in a little. "I'm not  you  , though. Eventually, I will. And in the meanwhile, I'm going to test every single one of my experiments on you. You know," he mustered the man then a little as if he was nothing more than an object. "I'm wondering if you're actually afraid."

Zenji's eyelid twitched and he threw himself into the restraints binding him. Ikuro's grip was unrelenting, but he frowned slightly. "Afraid? Afraid?!  You can't even risk me!", his voice was shrill and his face became contorted by fury.

Interesting. Ikuro thought so too - his pale eyes had narrowed and stared at Tobirama intently.

Tobirama remained impassive, just swishing the vial back and forth with a leisure movement of his wrist. The truth was he was far from that. He wondered if beating on this man until he spilled the beans really wasn't an option. But he was so close. Zenji had already made a mistake, and Tobirama had caught onto it, of course. Still, he needed confirmation. "I don't see why." He knew better than to keep up with this kind of verbal wrestling. That would only yield power to the prisoner.

Still, the hint had been obvious.

Zenji clenched his jaw tightly now. He, too, seemed to have realised his mistake. 

A shrill voice floated over the corridor. The loony witch from the far end, Tobirama figured. "Zenji, you fucking idiot!" 

She did sound coherently pissed now.

Unluckily for Zenji, that was the confirmation he needed. Time to take a shot at the obvious target. Tobirama leaned back, genuinely smug now. Both eyebrows arched up, his tone as sweet as sugar. "You're the only one left who knows how to create the leash, hm?"

Zenji apparently decided to break through the figurative front then - his lips drew in a condescending sneer again. "Alright, smart science boy. Assuming you brought all of the remaining leash with you to this godforsaken village," he began in a tone that made Tobirama's neck hair stand up. "Your precious lady has had about seven days to live, give or take, since we got here."

Tobirama already wanted to beat his face into a pulp now - how he spoke of your life in a simple calculation; an unfortunately very correct one - it was maddening. His heartbeat thundered through his skull as his world was incinerated in white-hot ire; he could barely feel the pain in his jaw from how hard he bit down on his teeth.

Zenji continued. "Now I kinda lost feeling for time in this fucking cell, but it couldn't have been more than two. So how about this, Tobirama Senju - all I have to do is last a few more days and then my knowledge will be meaningless because-" he leaned forward, wearing a huge, fat grin, "- Y/n's gonna have left this world, screaming and writhing in agony."

Tobirama's heartbeat was through the roof now. His fists clenched so hard, the vial might break in them but he did not move an inch.

"Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand."

For the fraction of a second, eerie silence filled the cell.

Tobirama's fist shot out before Ikuro could even do so much as realise what was about to happen. A sickening crunch echoed through the cell as it made contact with Zenji's lower jaw, who howled in pain in response. 

"Tobirama!" Ikuro cautioned, pale eyes ablaze now. The situation was getting out of hand.

Tobirama almost didn't even register the warning. All he heard was the rhythm beating inside him as a fine tremor of fury shook him. His scarlet stare held him pinned, eyes ablaze - if looks could kill, Zenji would be dead now.

This man. How dared he. 

How dared he to insinuate- To even think Tobirama would- That he couldn’t-

Zenji spat blood before Tobirama's feet. "I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead," he repeated, blood trickling down his chin, but mien filled with hatred. "You're never gonna crack how the leash is made in five days!" He drew his lips into an ugly grin, marred by the blood blood of his split lip.

Tobirama's fist balled again to deliver another blow to his face, but Ikuro cleared his throat authoritatively. In an instant, Tobirama's free hand had grasped around Zenji's broken mandibular bone and forced it forward with a lot more pressure than necessary. He made sure to put extra force on the side he had punched, just to be safe. If Ikuro had cautioned him not to worsen the prisoner’s injury, Tobirama did not hear it. He didn’t care, either. Zenji should be grateful Tobirama didn’t punch him again.

The prisoner howled in pain as he was barely able to resist his mouth being forced open simply due to the injury, Ikuro supporting by tilting his head back now. "Time for your medicine," Tobirama announced in an ice cold tone as he poured the contents of the vial into Zenji's mouth.

In an attempt to gag or wheeze it right back out he already tried to constrict his pharyngeal muscles, but Tobirama had seized his cricoid and pressed down harshly enough to force him to swallow - or else he'd suffocate.

Which he did, just a moment later.

For good measure, Tobirama kept the pressure up a few seconds longer, however.

When he released him, Zenji wheezed. "Fuck you," he spat, but his pupils began to dilatate already.

"Start," Tobirama commanded Ikuro in a pressed tone, shaking from fury still, who nodded and rested his hand on Zenji's head in order to assault the man's mind.

Tobirama meanwhile went for his throat to monitor his body with his chakra - sadly, he really did need to keep him alive. Which was difficult, as his focus was still clouded by the rage - the maddening fury he’d chastise himself for later. 

The effects of his drug were - initially - comparable to the leash. The sensory overload of the brain worked the exact same way he had witnessed in you after indigestion - though now, it mingled with Ikuro's chakra, who was smothering him in what probably was a genjutsu or some other kind of mental assault. Tobirama couldn't help but marvel the expert level with which the man proceeded, comparing it to the brute force he had used on Akio. There was something to be learned here in the ways he didn't just smother him but let his chakra seep through every little crack of Zenji's mind, delivering mental stabs whenever he felt a crack in his mental fortress while coating him in a constant onslaught of pressure; a thick blanket of neverending slices at Zenji’s mind that made Tobirama shudder. It was much like watching a snake kill its prey - winding around the struggling victim tighter and tighter; the hopeless struggle of the despondent creature seemed to still as it starts to realise its demise while the snake viciously enjoys every drip of agony it can milk from it until finally, the unfortunate soul can no longer breathe.

Zenji's chakra on the other hand was sluggish - but not as subdued as Tobirama had hoped. The effect was there and the man definitely should feel his control over his chakra being significantly hampered, but it wasn't the same as Tobirama had seen in you. Stunted, yes, but not as frozen.

He was on the right path, after all.

Still, the screams Ikuro elicited from Zenji were music to Tobirama's ears. Just like the fact that physically, the man was fine. Tobirama flat out refused to heal the broken jaw, however. He didn't know how long the session lasted, but somewhere along the line, Zenji hat stilled. His head had tilted forward, the body limp. 

"Enough," Ikuro announced finally, frowning.

Tobirama gave the man another brief once-over to make sure he was fine - besides the abused mind - then he removed his hand from his throat. His head felt dizzy. The ache in his heart was as agonizing as ever now that the rage had subsided. Ikuro clicked his tongue and waved his hand for Tobirama to follow. They headed back to the office. This time, he didn't feel the gazes of the other prisoners on his back.

Interesting. 

Once in the office, Ikuro crossed his arms. "I don't think I need to explain-"

Tobirama cut him short with a wave of his hand. He didn't have time for a lecture. "I lost my composure. It won't happen again."

Ikuro stared back for a moment longer, then he walked to the desk. "Should I get the impression you're too emotionally biased to interrogate this man, someone else will have to conduct your experiments here."

"Understood." Like hell Tobirama would allow for that to happen.

Ikuro nodded, then folded his hands in front of him. "This was an interesting session nonetheless."

Tobirama crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I'm glad you perceived it as such." He didn't cut back on the sarcasm. 

Ikuro exhaled a sigh. "We have ascertained that Zenji is the only one who knows how to create the leash. And when I tried to pry open his mind, I found your little experiment made him a lot more susceptible to my methods." A fine smile formed on his lips.

Tobirama frowned slightly. The compliment felt sour still - he remembered how this was what you had suffered, and how it hadn't been near what the leash could do. In fact, by the end of the session Zenji's chakra control had been almost normal again.

No withdrawal effect, either. 

"I did not break him still," Ikuro continued, "But I could take brief glimpses at the leash's creation, if I upped the pressure a lot."

That comment alone sent a jolt down Tobirama’s spine and he took a quick step forward. "Tell me."

"I'll show you," Ikuro held Tobirama's gaze with unwavering determination, and Tobirama stared back into the pale, turquoise eyes.

Then suddenly, he felt an image being pushed onto him - a genjutsu. Almost instinctively, he wanted to release it simply for the intrusion it caused - then he remembered what this was for. It was quite delicate anyway - fragments, loose images and echoes of sensations. Zenji's, Tobirama realised. He was holding a bottle filled with a clear substance. His chakra did something - a process that Tobirama could only guess at because every time he - Ikuro - tried to look closer, it was as if someone shoved him away. Still, there were some leads. Ways in which his chakra threaded through the liquid. Tiny - but something to go with - pieces of a puzzle. Where he still was missing about most parts of. It hinted at the utmost delicate process that seemed to be the creation of the leash - but it was proof. Proof that it truly was something of a chakra weaving process that created the leash.

"Release." Ikuro announced.

Tobirama's head was swimming again. A hand raked through his hair. 

This was a lead. He should feel excited. Hopeful. Eager to work on it. Yet his mind wouldn't push past the crushing sense of dissatisfaction with this experiment, his outburst - and worst of all, Zenji's promise.

I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead.

Five days. He just had five days left and all he had was a vague lead and an experiment with a lukewarm result at least.  Time  - he was running out of  time . His heart was thundering in his chest as his breaths came deeper than usual. He closed his eyes briefly. 

If only he had more time.

Giving up was not an option. He'd just work harder. He'd sacrifice who knew what to make this work.

He breathed in deeply to try and alleviate the budding agony and dread inside him. It didn't work well. The pain stabbed at his heart, the sorrow had gripped him again. Tobirama was sure that if he closed his eyes, he'd see your face - in sheer agony. 

Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand.

He swallowed the lump down his throat. It felt dry. The emotions that were swirling inside him were tiring him out; much like the days before, it was all too much. First the rage, and now the looming sense of doom and this utter despair he felt he couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to feel more, he couldn’t he was spent, but he did nonetheless, like a wound that couldn’t, wouldn’t stop bleeding. He was taking deep breaths against - against all this.

His gaze wandered to the clock. 

Damn. You should have been awake for quite some time now.

"I will be back as soon as I have synthesised my next experiment. This is a start." He bowed curtly to thank Ikuro, who nodded in reply. "I need to go. See you soon."

Then, the world around him lurched as he teleported straight to your room. 

________

 Your nightmare had been exceptionally vivid this time.

Not just a horrible patchwork of memories from the past few weeks but a concise, terribly real scenario. Every single bit of the memory had felt like as though you were back in the dreadful hideout for sure. The screams echoed off the wall as they carved your flesh like a sculpture, the pain a thousand times worse due to this damn drug. By the time it had ended, your tormentor had cut you apart.

But you wouldn't die.

You never died. 

The agony just never ended.

It all faded into a memory of pain supplied by your abused body. Eventually, the world was black. Then you slept.  And when you woke, it still was dark. 

With a sigh, you removed the blindfold from your eyes. Everything stayed dark. You forced yourself to take even breaths. 

This had been the third time you had taken the leash since you had been rescued.

How many more would follow?

Your breathing picked up. 

Dark. It was all too dark. 

Your eyes wandered to where you knew the window was, curtain drawn closed. You really had to tell Tobirama to keep that open if you now started to become afraid of darkness so much. Then again, that might lead to more questions. Questions you didn’t want to answer. For now, the pain in your whole body was a dull echo, but you knew that’d change drastically again when you moved. No matter. You had to. The world was closing in around you and and your heart was hammering against your ribs so harshly you thought it might jump out.

Yelping past clenched teeth you dragged your haggard form to the window again, staggering through the darkness, not even bothering with the nightstand lamp this time. You didn’t need to. You whimpered deplorably from the aches that now flared through all of you, echoes of the torment that stabbed and burned. 

You still felt so weak. It was dumb to think you had recovered much already - and without your own chakra, no less - but still. You absolutely detested this  weakness. 

This helplessness.

You grasped the curtain for support as much as you had to to pull it open. You had to fumble for it with a shaking hand, the other grasped the window sill below.

“J-j-just o-open…”, you stuttered as you ripped aimlessly at it.

Your breaths were coming so fast now your sight was blackening, your limbs feeling fuzzy. The panic was driving tears into your eyes and wrenching sobs from you.

Was this how you’d start every day, now?

Bright sunlight flooded the room finally. Instantly, both your hands clung to the sill then for support while you doused in the sight of the village. The very obvious signals your body was giving you to rest again were ignored in favour of relishing in this moment.

Safe. You were safe.

You sniffled as the tears dried down and the fright ebbed down. Somewhat. You wanted to stay like this longer, but you knew you really shouldn’t. Besides, the more you calmed, the more unbearable the pain became in all of you. Plus, if Tobirama caught you now, he’d be livid. He hated repeating himself. It wasn’t as though he was wrong, anyway. 

You opted for sitting on the bed again and looking out of the window from there. A small comfort. 

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself in preparation of the way back. With a deep breath you let go of the window sill and turned around. 

A moment later your shaky foothold tipped, the ankle twisted - and with an agonised yelp that nearly had been a loud scream, you fell to the floor. Instinctively you broke the fall correctly, your training ensured that. Even in this deplorable state.

But the pain was searing. It damn near was equal to the torment - or at least it felt like that. You curled into a fetal position on yourself as your mouth was open in a silent scream. 

You didn’t want anyone to get in now. 

Tears were flowing freely over your cheeks. You kept silent. Silence had been a lesson well-practiced - though of course the Stone shinobi had made you scream so much your voice still was hoarse, that had been after a lot of silence.

You’d endure this, too.

Even so, lying on the cold floor - it felt just like after all the times they’d tortured you and then shoved you back into that dark pit. Helplessly on the ground with the agony fresh on your mind and weakened by the leash, by all the misery you were in. Unable to move from sheer pain alone, really-

Your chest was closing in again.

The room was becoming darker.

No, no, no. Not now. It’d be fine eventually - right? Wait, what if it wasn’t? Shit, where did that come from now? You mustn’t think like that. But here you were. Alone. On a cold floor. In pain- Bleeding?

No- You were sure if you opened your eyes now, they’d open to nothing but darkness. “N-no…”, you whimpered miserably, your arms covering your face as you curled up even tighter.

Cold.

Everything was cold, you are alone - There is nobody here, they’ll come again, and again for you.

…

“What the hell?! ”

You had no idea how long you had been laying there when the familiar, furious voice ripped through your consciousness like a horn’s blow. The world was slowing down again. You suddenly became aware of the fact you had been wheezing erratically. Trembling. The tears - an odd tear would run over your cheek. But you had stilled perfectly. You heard fast steps approaching. You tensed.

They stopped in front of you. Clothes rustled.

“Y/n?” - the voice was different now - panicked. Softer.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see Tobirama’s black clothes in front of you. He was crouching. His hand was on your shoulder, you realised. A warm touch.

Your breathing levelled out.

You were safe.

You had just fallen down. Silly.

“I fell,” you admitted defeatedly, your gaze seeking his face hesitantly. This was embarrassing enough as it was, but Tobirama - he looked perfectly anguished himself. His scarlet eyes mustered you up and down, there was urgency in his expression. You sighed and began to heave your chest off the ground with your arms, ignoring the pain again.

“You shouldn’t have-,” he began in a scolding tone, but the moment you moved, it became stern. ”No, don’t do that.” The worry was mellowing it down still.

His arm snuck around your shoulder to heft you up from the floor. You became utterly stiff from the pain that shot through you as you were moved, but you uttered no more than a hiss past your clenched teeth. Your arm moved to rest around his waist for support, but the way you fisted the fabric of his black shirt was telltale, nonetheless.

Which Tobirama picked up on easily. “Just one step,” he muttered tersely. Frankly with the force he put in his grip he might as well carry you, but you appreciated the fact he granted you this shred of dignity. You took the step as gracefully as possible, which was simple given how Tobirama shouldered near all of your weight. You whimpered as you sat down the ankle you had fallen over on the floor.

“Easy,” Tobirama supplied immediately, holding you closer, his free hand securing your waist tightly.

His arm released you only momentarily as you leaned forward to spin and sit on the bed, but his palm lingered on your shoulder the whole time. He grasped your legs gingerly to help swing them into bed again when you turned to lie down.

You stared up at the ceiling once you had pulled the blanket over you. The trembles had ceased; your breathing was normal again.

You were safe.

Tobirama didn’t waste time, either. “What have you been doing?”, his tone was as strict as it was accusing. The mellowing worry had turned down a notch now that you were in bed again it seems.

You felt bold when you turned your gaze to meet his again. He was frowning, the scarlet eyes were ablaze. “I did say you could knock next time,” you answered in a small voice.

The answer was prompt. “So you’d have time to get back into bed, you mean?”, strict was becoming angered rapidly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d have made that in time.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the face scrunched in a frown and the eyelids narrowed to slits. No, he was pissed off. You sighed.

Your scathing comment didn’t even make him bat an eyelash. “Yn/!” If anything, the quip had angered him more, if that outburst was anything to go by. “You must rest,” he began sternly. “Most likely that stunt has ripped at your healing wounds and inflicted damage - setting you back. Not to mention you need to recover more strength first.” He extended a hand as he argued, frustration leaking into his voice.

“I know, Tobirama,” you snapped back. Both of your aching arms rose to your face to cover it. “I am painfully aware.”

He fell silent for a moment, the comment earned you a low huff from him. “So then why do I see you anywhere but your bed whenever I come around?”, again, his tone was unfazed. More stern, in fact. You knew your comments were riling him up.

Because I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m alone in the dark and that fucking window is the only thing that convinces me I’m free.

“I’m going a little crazy here,” you supplied, figuring that wasn’t even a lie. “I’m either drugged, becoming delirious or flat out in pain, as you know.” That much definitely wasn’t a lie. 

It made Tobirama balk a little. Peeking past your hands you saw his shoulders droop, his arms at his side now. Weird. You had expected something along the lines of ‘it’ll be over soon’ or ‘pull yourself together’ - not in an ignorant or diminutive way, but rather something to remind you this was temporary. That all you had to do was be stronger for a little while. Tobirama wasn’t great at comfort to begin with, so he’d stick with the logical aspects of the situation, naturally.

“Tobirama?”, you inquired then, when he didn’t speak up again.

“I know,” he then answered, the anger fading somewhat. His mien remained firm, but he took a seat on the edge of your bed now to level out the height difference somewhat. Because that hadn’t escaped your notice either. “It is a difficult situation, but you  must  rest. I don’t want you going on walks now. At all.” His gaze lifted up to your eyes again - the frown still present.

Your hands dropped to your side again. Now was your turn to avoid his gaze. “I just wanted to pull the curtains back, Tobirama,” you explained in a quiet voice, your ironic undertone vanished. “I had to look outside.”

You heard him take a sharp breath and then - “Y/n, you mustn’t-”, then he abruptly paused. For a few moments, the room was completely silent. "Is… that why you were crying?", he asked suddenly, his voice dropping the strictness, completely soft again. 

You didn’t answer him, but you closed your eyes. You had to, they were becoming wet again.

“Y/n…”, Tobirama whispered brokenly, his hand reaching for yours at his side. His grip was tight, his thumb ran smoothing circles over your skin. You exhaled a little gasp when you felt his chakra graze over your network in the way you were so familiar with, so warm and welcome.

“I’ll try not to get up again,” you murmured after a moment of quiet comfort. “Maybe just leave the curtain open.” You sighed. It wasn’t as though you didn’t understand his objections to you moving around - your ankle was testament to that - but the panic was just so much worse.

Tobirama didn’t reply to that directly but simply kept caressing you both outwardly and inwardly. “Alright.” He finally spoke. “Perhaps… I can try to be here earlier, too.”

You opened your eyes again to find his gaze was cast down at your body again, his eyebrows furrowed in worry again. You never had seen Tobirama in this much distress since these last few days. “You don’t have to. You’re busy,” your voice was becoming more somber again.

“We talked about that already.” Back to the firm tone, shutting the discussion down, it seems. Tobirama hated discussing in the first place, and with your time basically dictated by a vile drug that he had to administer regularly there wasn’t even much arguing ground on your behalf. You rolled your eyes.

His hand released yours and was pushing the blanket aside then, “I’ll see what I can do for you now,” he mumbled, then, already focused as he turned himself to face your side more.

You gave a low sigh. “I’d say save your concentration and chakra, but-”

Tobirama’s voice instantly was terse again. “Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly.” You resigned and helped by pulling up the gown somewhat as he placed both palms on your abdomen again. You felt his chakra’s presence intensify as he began and couldn’t help but gaze at his face while he first examined you and then went to heal - his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Over time, that became more dismayed. Of course.

Much like the last time, the procedure took its pretty time simply for how intricate the work was - how little chakra he could actually use in terms of overloading you still, and when he did, he’d have to put it to its best use. The thoroughly comfortable feeling was settling in soon however as the aches dulled and you began to relax under his treatment. You’d never deny this wasn’t good, no. Especially when he directed his attention to your ankle, the sensation was warming, itchy almost in how the joint began to ache less in tune with the healing warmth swirling inside of it.

After quite a while he retreated with a finishing brush over your network, which you let warmly hum in response. As much as you could, anyway. It’d never not feel alien to you how your chakra was there - inside you - and yet not ready at your disposal. When Tobirama drew his hands back, his face remained scrunched up. 

“As I said,” and here he was again, scolding, naturally. “There was quite some damage to your wounds. And you sprained your ankle.” He crossed his legs and rested both arms on the edge of the bed. “I’ve repaired quite a lot of it. Y/n, you’re barely-”

You wanted to prop your head up your palm and rest on your side, but you were positive he’d yell at you. You opted for quipping again. “-healed and need to rest.”

His frown deepened. “I can also just physically stitch you up if the sight of those ripping serves as a better reminder for you. Because that’s what you’re doing, internally.”

Ouch. He fought back. “No, thank you.” You deflated and sighed. “I’m trying.”

That served to mellow him down significantly again and his shoulders slumped somewhat. He didn’t speak up again though, but his gaze had fallen to the floor, seemingly lost in ponder.

You simply eyed him for a moment before you tilted your head slightly. “Well, I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”, you attempted a little laugh, but Tobirama could only shrug his shoulders in what you think might’ve been an ironic motion. You frowned. “What’s wrong, Tobirama?”

His gaze lifted to gaze at you from the side, cautiously now. It didn’t sit well with you. “Just stay in bed, Y/n.”

You arched up an eyebrow. That was not what truly had been on his mind now. The lack of sternness in his voice proved that. “I know I should,” you began, “but that is not what is on your mind.” His nostrils flared slightly. “Tell me, Tobirama. Is everything getting too much for you? You don’t need to take care of me, too. That’s why I am here.” It still baffled you how much he did in the first place, yet-

“No,” he firmly cut you short. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he slightly leaned back. “I’m fine taking care of you and researching this leash.” You believed that much with how much conviction he spoke it. 

“Then what is it, Tobirama?”, you demanded now. “Because I have the fleeting notion it’s to do with me.” And you didn’t like that at all.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’ll be fine, Y/n. Don’t worry about that. Just rest and get better.”

Anger started to flare in you. To be bedridden and get basically yelled at for drawing curtains back was one thing. But to actively be kept in the dark was another one. However you’d still try reason first before you went to demanding things because open confrontation only got you so far. “I’m injured, Tobirama. Not mentally capacitated. You might as well tell me, because I caught on the fact something  is  weighing on you and at the very least I’ll now worry as to why that is. Even if you tell me not to. So, please.”

Tobirama straightened and squared his shoulders a little. "Honestly, the only thing you have to worry about is your own recovery." He was getting more terse again.

You were onto something. You narrowed your eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just get up after, scream until someone gets around and demand to speak to Hashirama." You had every intention of going through with that. You'd have to be fast though - weakness would settle in soon.

Tobirama clenched his teeth, his head whipped around to you to stare at you downright menacingly. "You will do no such thing."

"I absolutely will, unless you tell me."

Tobirama’s eyes closed slowly. He shifted back to his original position. When he opened them again, his scarlet pupils darted to the side to pin you with an intense stare, his mien was grave now. Your pulse picked up. Instinctively you braced yourself by heaving your chest up with both your elbows. Thanks to his recent treatment, the pain was dull, for now. Tobirama didn’t even protest when you moved. It just served to make you more tense.

“Creating more of the leash is proving to be a difficult task I’ve not yet accomplished,” he finally churned out, slowly, against his will, almost.

You gulped.  Wait. That meant- “How much is left?”, you asked before you could even comprehend what you just said.

Tobirama closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want to tell you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know anymore. “Five and a half days at our current rate.”

Around you, the world seemed to lurch like when he teleported you with the hiraishin seal. Your ears felt stuffy, your vision became a tunnel focusing on the face of your beloved and yet gazing right through him as darkness threatened. You felt numb.

Five and a half days.

Right now, you had five and a half days left to live.

And you wouldn’t pass peacefully, that much you had experienced before.

Your elbows gave out as you limply crashed back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Breathing was becoming harder as the figurative weight of the news was bearing down on your chest. Before you knew it, you were wheezing again. Ugly sobs were breaking past your lips and a wet sensation rolled down the sides of your face. Tears, you realised.

Faintly you realised Tobirama shifted. A hand took yours in it firmly, another on your shoulder. He was talking, but you didn’t hear anything. Not right away, anyhow. It was only when you felt his chakra again that you became more grounded again, but even then, it still was hard not to burst all over again.

“Y/n,” he pleaded, over and over again. Your blurry vision shifted to focus on his face, closer to yours now. It looked as agonized as you felt. There was a tremble in his deep voice. Your breathing levelled out slowly. Your free hand slowly reached for the one he had put on your shoulder as you sought his gaze again.

“Tell me more,” you urged, gulping.

“I’m not sure if-”, he hesitated.

“I want to know everything, dammit!”, you almost shouted.

Tobirama’s eyes closed, he winced as though you had physically slapped him.

And then proceeded to tell you - everything. What this leash was - besides what you knew it did to you - what he knew so far. The problem he faced. Instantly, you realised the task he faced was not just ‘difficult’. It was near impossible to achieve in such a short timespan.

“I’m doing all I can, I swear,” he finished, and the sincerity of the statement had the timbre of his voice shaking. His scarlet eyes were glistening - the hand you put on his on your shoulder reached for his face. No, you’d never question his resolve to save you. Neither his determination to keep you from any harm - his secrecy had just been another facet of that.

An eerie calm gripped you.

“I know,” you whispered, stoic. A sad smile stretched your lips. “If there’s anyone in Konoha who can figure it out, it’s you.” You believed that with every fiber of your being.

Tobirama frowned, tilting his head slightly. His breath shook.

“You need more time,” you added, your thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“There isn’t any, Y/n,” he answered, broken.

“Not if we proceed like this,” you agreed, somber. You couldn’t believe your next words, but here you were. You knew exactly what you needed to do - duty, if you will, albeit calling it that was odd considering it was your own survival that was on the line. Still. You were the one making the sacrifice. 

“You start giving me what you have of the leash at the greatest possible interval.”

Tobirama’s face fell completely, the words hitting him almost like you had slapped his cheek. 

“What?!”

[fearthebadgers]

New52 CoV Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow headcanons!

          Ok, New52 Jon does not get enough love in the community because of how he was written. He is the more controversial Crane out there but I for one have New52 high on my list of favorite Jons out there. From what I can recall correctly, his story was the first with Jon’s father actually actively being around in his childhood albeit not in the best way.                                                                                                                    My own personal Jonathan Crane shares a very similar history to New52 as this specific version is a heavy influence for my own. I do enjoy a more grotesque and gory Scarecrow so New52 is certainly right up my alley. Anyway, apart from that here are some headcanons for New52 Jonathan Crane! 

Enjoy!

(Headcanons are actually below the cut cuz there are some triggering topics along with some spoilers if you have not read New52: CoV, triggers included mouth trauma, childhood trauma, smoking, anxiety issues, poisoning, bullying and death. Reader discretion is advised)

-You can blame Jonathan’s stuttering on his father. He developed it after a particularly bad experiment at a young age and even though he’s worked thoroughly to cover it up over the years, when stressed, emotional or excited it just sort of slips out.

-He’s one of few Cranes that did not grow up in Georgia. He’s Gotham born and raised although he did not grow up in the city itself but more in the surrounding rural area.

-The house that he canonically kept Batman and the 2 girls trapped inside is the same house he grew up in, just years and years later.

-After his eventual apprehension and recovery from being exposed to his own toxin, he was sedated and had the stitching to his lips removed and his broken bottom jaw treated. There are still small scars from the stitches surrounding his upper and bottom lip and has regular jaw pain as a reminder of what he did to himself.

-Any and all mirrors that have or do hang in any of his living spaces have either been smashed or completely shattered.

-He does have anger issues and can get very emotional at times.

-Jon had a black cat hanging around his childhood home that he named Binx but one day she mysteriously went missing from the second floor of the house where she usually stayed. Jon went looking for her one day and found her in the back shed with kittens. He found an old cardboard box and made a little kitty shelter for Binx and her new kittens.

-One of few Cranes that enjoys scaring birds. When no one is watching he’ll sneak up on a flock of pigeons and scare the crap out of them. Bonus points if it’s a murder of unsuspecting crows but often times he’ll pay for spooking crows as they often try to fight back.

-The diamonds that he brought to Penguin near the end of the comic actually came from a amateur robber. He kidnapped them, took the diamonds that they had just stolen and later of course experimented on them before letting them go with no recollection of what happened.

-Master manipulator and can make any lie believable but he’s also extremely blunt when he wants to be.

-If asked to do something, he’ll do it..eventually, just on his own time. If not he just won’t do it at all. You can’t expect New52 to immediately go through with your desires for any reason unless it benefits him as well. 

-Was the type of kid to build and practically live inside a tree fort. He’s oddly fond of the outdoors as it can often provide an eerie atmosphere to be in, especially if he’s alone. 

-Don’t ask for advice from him. He’ll often give you the most sarcastic advice ever, the worst ever or just say nothing at all. Again, he doesn’t like busying himself with someone else’s affairs if it doesn’t affect him.

-Jon is actually a bit..afraid to sleep. Anytime he closes his eyes to rest for a period of time, at some point he’s going to jolt awake almost screaming bloody murder because of nightmares and sleep terror.

-Do not touch him without permission first. Many Cranes don’t like being touched without giving their say so in whether or not they can be touched but New52 takes it a step further. If you were to touch him without asking to do so, he will inject you no matter who you are. You could be his best friend and he still would. This stems from the years of bullying and trauma that he suffered as he almost always associates any kind of touch as being of harmful intent. 

-Going back to the previous headcanon, he does not care who he injects. All he cares about when he does is the reaction he’s going to see from his chosen victim. 

-Jon is actually half to blame for his father’s death. He doused his father’s most recently bought pack of cigarettes in bleach so whenever he lit up a cigarette to smoke, he inhaled burning chlorine gas. This coupled with the coincidental heart attack is what caused Gerald Crane’s death. 

-He swears that his father’s ghost haunts him. Ever since Gerald’s death, strange and inexpiable things happened around Jonathan. His glasses going missing for extended periods of time later being found in the strangest places, his freshly made bed being found a mess for no known reason, doors opening right back up when he closes them, lights inexplicably flickering, just the usual run-of-the-mill paranormal activity. The one thing that makes Jonathan believe that his father’s ghost haunts him is the smell of cigarette smoke that lingers in various and random spots around the old, decrepit house. It usually gets stronger whenever something strange occurs.

[druedidit]

Drue Wilkes Intro

★ BIRTH DATE / 21 February, 1960 (bro this is my third pisces i am going out of my fucking mind) ★ BLOOD STATUS / Pureblood ★ PRONOUNS & IDENTITY / she/her; cis female ★ FACECLAIM / Reina Hardesty

ACADEMICS & ROOMING

★ PRIMARY SCHOOL / Cornwall County Day School, 1978 ★ ACADEMIC PURSUITS / Social Studies degree, History of Magic cohort ★ HOUSE & YEAR / Slytherin, 2nd Year

TW: mentions of murder, suicide, and gaslighting

POINTS OF INTEREST

★ The Wilkes, unlike most of the families listed as the Sacred 28, did not have much in means of monetary value to fall back and survive on. They were forced to become working class people, after the failure of yet another business idea of Rupert Wilkes. When two children came along, Devin and Drue, it only complicated things further. Thankfully, Lindsey Wilkes was able to salvage a hair dresser’s business in Diagon Alley, with a small flat above. It was much too stuffy for four people and while the adults complained and huffed, it was nothing but normal to their two children. Eventually, they were able to afford another business, just next door. They even had the opportunity to join the two flats above.

★ Owning the Junk Store, which worked like a wizard’s pawn shop, introduced the Wilkes to many opportunities they thought they’d never have. Most of the objects that came through their shop were faulty and Mr. Wilkes would spend hours trying to fix them -- success was 40/60. One day, something came through their shop he couldn’t pass up. A time turner. Months were spent, casting charms and spells to make it function good as new. And what do you know? Rupert Wilkes mended it. It became their family’s sole, greatest possession. The only thing of value to the Wilkes name.

★ Of course, having that much power would eventually lead to some trouble. In 1975, after Rupert refused to turn back time to save the family’s dying pet, Devin took it upon herself to steal the time turner. Fifteen year old Drue was woken from a dead sleep, to the sounds of screams. She always thought in a moment like so, she’d freeze up. But no, Drue ran on to her parent’s bedroom, and found her older sister standing over their limp bodies. Devin said only two words murder, suicide. Her life was now built upon this lie, because her sister refused to go back in time now and had much graver plans.

★ Devin never hid a single murder she committed from her younger sister. Family breakfast became confessional. Gory detail after gory detail, Drue knew if her sister did not slow down soon, she would be caught. Or become notoriously known. Either way, having the advantage of being two places at once seemed to lessen her chances of ever being arrested. But without Drue’s own sharp perception, she does not trust Devin’s sloppy ways and has vowed to assist her sister in her crimes. Drue’s become her own personal bait to lure in victims and participates in crime scene clean up. Now, in 1980, Devin has committed seven murders in the last four years. She believes spacing them out will draw away attention. Drue sincerely hopes so.

Extra HC Shit

She & her sister, Devin, claim their mum was a huge advocate for peace and muggleborns. They’ve even inspired people to start a foundation named after Lindsey Wilkes (who was allegedly murdered at the hands of her husband), which encourages blood unity through muggle sports such as tennis, bowling, and roller blading. They do not care if their pureblood allies believe them to be blood traitors. The end game is much more important -- you must be friends with your enemies.

Has never been too affected by the death of her parents, tbh? And though she lives this uncomfortable paycheck-to-paycheck life, she blames them for all of Devin’s disadvantages in life.

Works part-time at Junk Shop and the hairdressers called Hair Dahlia. There was no large inheritance when her parents died. They were left with more debt than anything and both had to continue working. Devin did not attend Hogwarts and Drue only got in on a scholarship for academics.

Working at the Junk Shop has turned her into a total COLLECTOR OOPS! But, she just collects the cool stuff that looks “artsy”. More so for aesthetic than function. Her dream of all dreams is to open some sort of art history museum in the wizarding world. Of course, the funds make it almost impossible to. She is majoring in History because of this, however. Might as well become rich in knowledge if you can’t with money, right?

Is a large participant in JWL and has never felt the need to exactly prove herself because of her lack of money. She feels her ideas and informative opinions are enough to carry her through. Maybe she’ll be so lucky to become President next year, with a little elbow grease.

Devin, her older sister is 100% a Death Eater. Drue’s in the process of being recruited. Which, she more than accepts. Their message is something she agrees with. Although, she wouldn’t be so messy about it -- it’s why she’s going to join. To reform the Death Eaters and keep her sister out of any crossfire.

Also speaks Japanese, is learning Latin, and is a fan of haiku, unironically.

TRAITS

✓  audacious; accommodating; tough  ✗ gaslighting; extravagant; amoral

yes so p.s. my dears..... while i am not a fan of “mindgames”/intentionally gaslighting people, drue can be that way. it may actually be unintentional sometimes because how often she has done it in the past. anyways, i understand it can be a lot! if you ever, ever, ever need me to tag something as a trigger, let me know!!! <3 trust me bbs, i gotchu!