#anti day of fallen night

[evangelineartemiasamos]

People really like Esbar? Because I for sure despise her after treating her own daughter and the daughter’s boyfriend like that.

Can’t believe “Mother” Cleolind ever agreed with or even demanded that lovers born outside the priory should be killed! Or that no one born in the priory should have the choice not to live in service to the priory.

My poor Siyu - not sure I should be glad she’s away from that place for now yet only at the cost of separation from her baby.

[eupheme]

— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope. 

You hadn’t. 

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure. 

It doesn't fucking matter. 

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you. 

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy. 

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic. 

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat. 

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals. 

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.  

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in. 

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you. 

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together. 

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from  another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound. 

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you. 

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough. 

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead. 

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber. 

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones. 

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into. 

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them. 

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm. 

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs. 

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free. 

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest. 

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again. 

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way. 

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye. 

You both know how this will go, when you get back home. 

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart. 

Maybe he’d show. 

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after. 

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart. 

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge. 

No one was coming for you. 

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin. 

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him. 

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls. 

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below. 

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience. 

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret. 

Comin' after a girl then, too. 

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind. 

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago. 

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back. 

But he's never much liked being underground. 

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through. 

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that. 

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you. 

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons. 

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow. 

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet. 

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth. 

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently. 

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all. 

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away. 

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation. 

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes. 

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after. 

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck. 

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down. 

Hold on, he thinks.

I’m coming.  

His whistle echoes in the chamber. 

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him. 

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery. 

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death. 

It rankles him, teeth set on edge. 

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice. 

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember. 

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that. 

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck. 

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice. 

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers. 

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back. 

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been. 

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you. 

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him. 

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor. 

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash. 

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires. 

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second. 

Always too goddamn slow.  

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado. 

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired. 

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door. 

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him. 

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back. 

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast. 

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought. 

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long. 

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices. 

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat. 

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched. 

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments. 

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal. 

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting. 

He had blown through them like it was nothing. 

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower. 

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement. 

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head. 

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs. 

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did. 

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you. 

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years. 

You’re not able to resist. 

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw. 

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering. 

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer. 

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands. 

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hihi, love your writing. Just sending over a request for a male reader (could be ftm if you'd life) with Hobie Brown? So basically the reader is apart of the organisation too and is a spiderman (could be possibly like a rock and/or punk based spiderman, or something completely opposite it's up to you) and it's how he had met Hobie and how they got close? I can send more details over if you'd like, thanks!

Hobie Brown x Male reader

Headcanons

I couldnt find any gifs of hobie yet, so just have this one.

Spoilers for Across the Spiderverse I guess? Reader is a Juggalo because I like ICP lmao.

You were one of the Spidermen that stood out somewhat amongst every other spiderperson around. You suit was white and black and had Juggalo features painted on the face. You wore a baggy ICP t-shirt and black shorts, maybe even a jacket or battle vest covered in patches. You wore a pair of heavy boots as well, perfect for kicking ass.

Along with that you didn’t respect the machine, aka the people in charge, as much as everyone else. You liked fighting and busting fascist and racist heads, you didn’t get involved with cops, and you were stubborn like a mule. This resulted in Miguel hating you because you were so difficult, but you were one of the best, so he kept you around.

You really liked fighting, which could be seen in the claws you added to your gloves, the brass knuckles worked into your suit, or the hard covering on your knees perfect for kneeing people in the chin. Those were only the visible ones, but you had many other hidden gizmos. This made you a bit of an outcast amongst the spiderpeople, but you didn’t care, you didn’t care about anyone’s approval but your own.

When Hobie joined the organization, it had been for Gwen’s sake in the beginning, since he himself doesn’t care much for large organizations with one leader who makes all the decisions. He puts up with it though, since its his duty to be spiderman.

Color him intrigued when one day he, Gwen and Jessica are called to Miguel’s area. When they arrive, they first see Miguel pacing back and forth rubbing his temples in clear annoyance, and second, they see a spiderman perched on the wall with little respect in his posture, roasting Miguel from head to toe.

Hobie already liked you from just that, but when you jump down to introduce yourself and he sees the anti-capitalism and anti-cop patches on your jacket? He might have fallen in love.

You, Gwen and Hobie were sent on a mission together, and you and Hobie got along like a house on fire. Gwen joked about being a third wheel the entire time, but she was just entertained about how well you two got along.

Outside of missions Hobie and you hang out most of the time, jumping into each other’s dimensions and just spending time at the others place. Hobies place is as punk rock as you can imagine, with all his instruments and an organized mess going on.

Your place is more what you’d imagine from someone who listens to rap, hiphop and ICP. You got a lot of music, casettes, cds, anything you can imagine. Lotsa posters or homemade merch stapled to the wall, etc.

When Hobie and Gwen make their band, you are invited of course, you are the singer. You can rap up a storm and speak so fast its hard for them to keep up some days. Hobie won’t admit it for a while, but hearing you spit bars makes his heart flutter.

Gwen would tease the both of you for having a crush on the other, which you both deny, because you are both cool and having crushes isn’t cool.

Gwen jokes about you two being boyfriends after you accidentally wear each other’s vest after spending the night at Hobies’ place. You both just roll your eyes at her and roast her with no actual heat, just doing it how friends would do it.

You both start dating at some point, neither of you can pinpoint when. One day you two just find yourselves cuddling on your rundown patched up couch without your masks on, cuddling and kissing.

Neither of you ever actually ask if you are boyfriends now or not, because you both know you are. It takes a while for Gwen and Pavitr a while to realize you two are together, since you don’t actually act any different.

Its only when they see you pull up his mask and your own to kiss him before going on a mission that it clicks for the both of them. They both whine that neither of you actually told them you were together.

When the movie happens you peace out the same moment as Hobie, having stolen your own tech so you two can keep visiting each other even if you aren’t part of the organization anymore.

Neither of you were ever big parts of being part of it anyways and only stayed for each other and for your friends, but seeing how Miguel deals with the whole Miles situation, you agree you need to leave.

You work together to make the watch for Gwen so she can save Miles. You two might join her too if needed, especially you, because you will take any chance to knock Miguel on his ass, maybe knock out those cheesy fangs of his.

Like I said, you hate authority. And since Miguel is authority, you hate him. Hobie follows after you because hes whipped and loves you deeply, plus he knows you can get kinda careless at times, so he has to pull you outta trouble if he needs.

You are both so grossly whipped for each other, it makes Gwen and Pavitr gag, though its fake gagging. You share clothes, instruments. You do his eyeliner and paint his nails, he does your Juggalo face paint. He always makes sure to give you a big kiss, which just wipes the paint onto his lips too.

[stealingyourbones]

Question! I have been getting into DC comics cuz of dpxdc, and I saw your tags on frank Miller on a recent post. One of my irl friends told me to read the dark knight returns and while it was occasionally hard to follow I assumed that was a result of when it was written rather than who wrote it? But I did overall enjoy it.

I guess what I'm asking is why you say frank Miller is a bad writer when it seems like the dark knight returns was so acclaimed?

(I saw the nazi thing too but that's something I can google so while it's news to me it's not my main question)

ok so. A lot of this is my personal opinion and I'm not too equipped to say shit about this because I'm not very political but I'm going to give it my best shot. Put under a cut so folks who don't want to hear about comic ranting can simply scroll past

I’m just gonna write a quick thing for the Nazi stuff, He isn't exactly a Nazi but boy oh boY does he set off many warning flags. Frank Miller is also the writer of the comic 300, if that sounds familiar that's because the movie you're probably thinking of is indeed based off these comics. The Spartan's ideology helped create the baselines of Fascism. Fascism is a pretty leading cause of commentary in Frank Millers work. In Batman: The Dark Knight he is a fascist. In Hard Boiled there's swastikas in the background every so often. (I even went back to reread it just to make sure and yep. they definitely were there) In 300 there's a shitton of Fascism... I could go on but still. His comics are incredibly gorey, have a discussion about a world gone wrong that can only be changed using force and weaponry (the whole Dark Knight "I am a surgeon" monologue for example), and the fact that he has Fascism as the main point of nearly all of the comics he's written... it doesn't sit right with me and it's a consistent pattern.

Now, onto the bad writing. I must firstly preface that these are my own opinions and that I didn't grow up reading Frank Miller's work. I think he was a good writer but isn't one anymore. His writing did incredible things for DC and you can see his influence in Batman even today. Works I've read and enjoyed of his are: Daredevil, Batman Year One, and Dark Knight. Nowadays you'll see many folks like myself talk about how Frank Miller has fallen off the deep end. A vast majority of Frank Miller's comics have reoccurring themes: politics, fascism, extreme violence, and so so much weaponry. Politics is in every comic book. There is no unpolitical comic, there ARE comics that are batshit wild with their politics and that's what I'm talking about. I'll get back to this later. He wrote many good comics, ones that first come to mind are Daredevil , Wolverine, Batman: Dark Knight, Batman: Year One, Sin City, Ronin, and 300. All of these comics are still credited by folks as amazing comics and hell, I recommend folks to read them go and check them out. Then 9/11 happened. That along with rampant alcoholism. Those reoccurring themes I mentioned? They become exponentially more blatant in his works. Especially on the political angle. You can see the difference between his works from pre and post 9/11. If you read Dark Knight and Dark Knight 2 back to back. It's night and day. He even made a comic during the post 9/11 panic called Holy Terror. The comic's title was originally pitched as Holy Terror, Batman! with the Gotham hero himself as the main character but it swiftly denied by DC, denied being published by DC, and changed to what it is now. The basic plot of this comic: A Vigilante named The Fixer fights Al-Qaeda after attacking Empire City. He doesn't even mention the word Al-Qaeda until 80 pages into a 150 page comic. The comic is some INCREDIBLY blatant post 9/11 propaganda that's ridiculously Islamophobic and anti-muslim. That isn't even my opinion, Frank Miller has said that's what this comic was. It is scattered with a ridiculous amount of hate speech written by a hate fueled man in 2007. Now onto comics that you'd more likely read. All Star Batman and Robin (2005). Oh boy. Let's compare shall we? Batman Dark Knight Returns (1986)

All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #1 (2005)

mind you this is as Dick is being driven to GCPD for questioning RIGHT AFTER HIS PARENTS DIED. He gets kidnapped by Bruce out of the police car. Not calmed in his arms after the murder and brought to the manor. Kidnapped. All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #2 (2005)

( a brief intermission of this sickass pose of a shirtless Alfred Pennyworth comforting Vicky Vale)

now back to the kidnapping:

[Skipping Bruce getting chased by the GCPD, Jumping the Batmobile ONTOP of a GCPD car, and laughing and talking to his car all the while Dick is absolutely terrified. They then use boosters that propel the Batmobile into the sky.]

Smashcut to #4 where they actually enter the Batcave.

I don't even think I need to explain myself. This is Spider-Man: One More Day levels of mischaracterization. Like seriously. Bruce kidnapping Dick after his parents were killed? Calling him a retard and hitting him during the aftermath (we can go on about how in 2005, the r slur was used commonly but this was just out of pocket), Leaving him in the cold batcave and told to eat rats? Frank Miller used to write some incredible works. Nowadays his writing is as decent as Rob Liefeld's art.

[girlactionfigure]

🟧 AFTER YOM KIPPUR - Updates from Israel  

THANKS - special thanks to our valiant soldiers who spent their Yom Kippur keeping us safe instead of with their families or in synagogue.  Our prayers are in their merit.

⭕SUICIDE DRONES from HEZBOLLAH hit HERTZILYA on Yom Kippur night, hitting a NURSING HOME.  1 intercepted, 1 got through.  1 injury.

⭕HEAVY ROCKET BARRAGES across the north, hitting Haifa, Acco, Karmiel, Safed, Rosh Pina, and towns throughout the north over Yom Kippur.  3 people were slightly injured by a rocket falling in the Western Galilee and 12 were slightly injured on the way to a protected area.

⭕ROCKETS FROM GAZA on Yom Kippur, to southern Ashkelon.  No casualties, and the IDF continues a policy of forced evac of source areas of fire.

▪️YOM KIPPUR - medics treated 286 fainted, dehydrated or felt ill due to the fast, and took 146 women in labor to the hospitals, one who gave birth in the ambulance.

▪️A HERO SOLDIER HAS FALLEN.. in battle in Gaza before Yom Kippur.. Ittai Fogel, 22, from Yakir.  May his family be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may G-d avenge his blood!

❗️On Yom Kippur the IDF had 1 serious injury in battle in Gaza, no others casualties.

♦️IDF airstrikes on 280 targets throughout the holiday, in Lebanon and Gaza.

♦️IDF forces eliminated 50 terrorists in face-to-face encounters and directed air force strikes, and destroyed more than 200 Hezbollah terrorist targets from the air and with artillery.

♦️IDF created a small border buffer into SYRIA, in the Alonei Habashan - Kwdana area.

🔹The Christian sectors in Lebanon are in talks to form a political alliance against the Hezbollah.

🔹Yemeni defense minister says an operation against the Houthi Rebels is "imminent”.

🔹Jordan’s Foreign Minister Ayman Safadi calls for Chapter VII of the UN Charter to be invoked to “force Israel to comply with international law and immediately end all its illegal wars” in Gaza, the occupied West Bank and Lebanon.  This framework allows the UN Security Council to impose sanctions or in extreme cases even military force to guard against threats to peace.

▪️Nicaragua announced the severance of relations with Israel "due to the attacks on the Palestinian lands".

▪️Speaker of the Iranian parliament arrived in Beirut and toured the area, leaving later in the day to Turkey.  This is the 2nd Iranian commercial-diplomatic flight to break the Israeli air ban.

Part 2

⚠️ CHANGES IN DEFENSIVE GUIDELINES, MILITARY ZONES DECLARED IN NORTHERN ISRAEL

⚠️ Following a situational assessment, starting today at 20:00, changes will be made to the Home Front Command’s defensive guidelines. In southern and northern Golan, except for certain communities in the Emek HaYarden Regional Council, the activity scale will move from Limited Activity to Partial Activity, allowing educational activities subject to Northern Command's guidelines. In Daliyat al-Karmel and Isfiya in the Carmel area, the activity scale will shift from Partial Activity to Full Activity, with restrictions on gatherings of over 2,000 people. The rest of the country's guidelines remain unchanged. It is crucial to follow official Home Front Command channels and check updates on the National Emergency Portal and Home Front Command app.

🟥 As of 20:00 today, Zar'it, Shomera, Shtula, Netu'a, and Even Menachem in northern Israel will be declared a closed military zone. Entry to this area will be prohibited for security reasons.

🔷 For the first time in the Middle East war, the US intends to deploy its THAAD (Terminal High Altitude Area Defense) anti-ballistic air defense system in Israel to prepare for a potential Iranian attack. This system is designed to intercept and destroy ballistic missiles, providing a high level of protection.

◾The US has also announced new sanctions on Iran's oil sector in response to Tehran’s missile attack on Israel.

[mikobeautifulheart]

4 Depression - Nanami

TW: Mentions of death, depression, suicide, starvation, attempted suicide and over dose. ('lill bitta angst)

Nanami sat silently in the empty train cart, head hung low and hands clasped tightly together. Today was another tough overtime mission. He wanted nothing more then to go home and see you, just hold you for hours on end.

The only thing left on his mind was how distant you had become. Last night you had fallen asleep, nothing in the fridge, nothing on the stove. It was like an empty apartment. He was going to talk to you about it but he had to leave early that morning so he resorted to talking to you that night.

The train stops and he walks out into the empty station. It was strange how everything was deserted. An oddly quiet day.

He continued to walk home exhausted and finaly turned the door knob into your apartment.

He breathed a sigh of relief until he noticed you on the dinning room floor, chest shallowly moving.

He rushes over to your side, propping you up on his knee. He gently pushes you hair out of your face before looking at your eyes with worry.

"Y/n what happened? What did you do?" He said

You slowly and shakily put your arm up, pointing to the empty yellow bottle of anti-depressants on the table.

"I want to wake up Kento, this dream is to lonely now." Your hand dropped to the ground causing a thud.

"Y/n, this isn't isn't dream! You need help." He reaches into his pocket to get his phone and call the emergency number.

"I want to die Ken, save me." You whispered as your eyelids got heavier.

"Hello? Hello? Why is no one picking up!?" He frustratedly throws the phone to the ground as you grasp onto his shirt collar.

"Kento I want to see you again." You finally mumble.

"Then you need to live Y/N I'll drive you to the hospital just hold on-"

"no" You whispered, breath slipping out your lips.

"No don't do this y/n, I need you, you can't leave me."

"I'll see you soon. After all i'm sure you've been waiting for me." You said before gasping at a sudden sharpness in your chest.

"Y/N! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?" He said trying to wipe his tears with his shirt sleve.

"Kento you left me. You left me in Shibuya alone. Did you mean it?"

"Y/n what are you talking about, wha-" He looks at his right hand, the skin is red and peeled. Burnt.

He goes to run his hand through his hair, none on the right side. What?

Oh. That's right. The last thing he saw was Yuji, standing there helplessly. He could remember feeling everything at once, not even blinking twice.

"Itadori, tell my wife I'll wait for her and...you got it from here."

Then the sounds of the train going over the rails. It was strange now, he dosen't remember his last mission, how he got on the train, how he left the house this morning.

"Can you- see me right now" he paused and looked down at you.

You weren't responding anymore.

He felt sick to his stomach, what had he done. He buried his face in your neck overwhelmed with...sadness.

"Don't cry anynore Kento, we're finally together again!" You said.

He felt hands gently press on his shoulders urging him to look behind him. But he didn't.

"I-i killed you y/n. Your dead because of me...I'm sorry" He let out a shakey breath.

"Why would you kill yourself because of me? What about every one you leave behind?" He said still holding your corpse.

"You didn't kill me Ken, I was all the time without you. As for everyone else, there's a few letters on the table explaining my death, will and wishes. All I want is to be here with you" you said wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, loke you didn't just kill yourself.

"No."

"No?" You said confused and the sudden change in deminour.

"Yoh don't die here, not yet. Listen to me y/n no matter how lonley you are or how bad you feel you cant do this...not to yourself or anyone." He sighed hugging your body closer to his.

"What are you talking about Ken, whats done is done. I told you at your funeral I'll never love again. My world has ended, this is the happiness I was looking for."

"I love you y/n, now live to the fullest teach those kids something and...don't die yet."

You woke up on the floor again. Tears filling your eyes. God damn it, you were so close.

"I miss you Kento." You slung your arm over your face.

"I miss you to, but until then." He said before walking off on the beach shore sighing in relife.

THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: This is appart of my 5 stages of greife series, part 4 obvi. Only one more part to go (acceptance with Yuji) and then this will all be over. Thanks for reading and have a good whatever time.

(Edit: If you wanted a happier ending you should have read this fic)

[psychedelic-ink]

© PSYCHEDELIC-INK. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

TV SHOWS & MOVIES MASTERLIST

PPCU MASTERLIST.

🔮 personal favorite || ☔️ smut || 🤧 angst || 🧁 fluff || 🩸 dark content

Live Wire Under My Skin 🤧

Joel comes back home wounded, and as you clean him up the two of you have a little chat.

Can't Get Enough Of Your Lies 🤧

you accidentally hear Joel grieving, and you do everything you can to comfort him.

I'm Yours to Tame 🤧☔️

Not being able to sleep, you sneak in next to Joel on the bed. You're stirred awake with a still-sleeping Joel grinding his hips into you.

Fire Burning ☔️

joel wants you to sit on his face, you have hesitations.

Burn For Me ☔️🩸

joel looks after you, provides for you, fucks you until the sun comes up; his only ask is that you never leave his apartment, not willing to face another loss. One day when you find the door unlocked, you decide to take stroll, promising yourself that you’ll be back before he returns home.

Love Will Abide ☔️

a retelling of the third episode but with you in it. Starts with Ellie reading Bill's letter.

Well, are you mine? ☔️

joel fucks you in an empty alleyway. that's it, that's the plot

Perfectly Wrong ☔️

Joel thinks you have the car battery that he so desperately needs and doesn’t believe you when you say that you don’t.

Ends Of The Earth ☔️🧁

joel brings you a care pack Maria gave him and you find a razor inside but when you confess your insecurities around the topic, Joel offers to help you out.

So My Darlin' ☔️🧁

you convince joel to have a bubble bath with you.

When You're Reading Me (pre outbreak!joel miller) ☔️🧁

If you had to make a list of things Joel Miller might buy you as a gift— nipple clamps, would not be a part of it. 

Reckless ☔️🤧

It starts with soft touches hidden by the dark. In a world where finding one bed is considered lucky, it means that you and Joel frequently share one. He offers to sleep on the floor, or a tattered couch every time and every time your answer is the same. No. 

aquatic rehabilitation ☔️🧁

Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

Spitfire ☔️🤧

joel x tess

To put it simply, Tess did not want to exist but did so anyway. She stared blankly at everyone and everything. Her mind and heart urged her to make the smart choices. She was quick to eliminate the possibilities that might cause her death. She assessed the weak links of the group. Stayed clear away from them. 

Smart choices. She blamed that part of herself for wanting to approach the Millers.

Or alternatively, the story of how Joel and Tess met and how they came to be.

Rises the Moon ☔️🧁

As the man responsible for operating the lighthouse, Joel lives a solitary life on the isolated coast. He has no complaints, enjoying the hauntingly beautiful songs that echo from the sea at night. One stormy night, he rescues a mysterious mermaid tangled in a fishing net. As you recover in the lighthouse, the two form an unlikely bond and find comfort in each other's company.

Cry Baby ☔️🩸

slasher au (still takes place in the tlou'verse) + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)

bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in jackson. as the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.

On Your Mark ☔️

cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”

you and tess go in to dismantle a cult, neither of you were expecting to find a rugged fallen angel being experimented on.

Distracted ☔️

woodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader

there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something he’s undeniably good at.

Hoofbeats (feat jack daniels) ☔️

joel challenges jack to make you into the finest there possibly is in two days.

Biting Down ☔️

body piercer!joel miller x f!reader

you finally go and get your nipples pierced.

That Pretty Girlfriend ☔️

When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

'my girl now ☔️

joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

Can You See His Silhouette? 🧁

 you get your period and without anything to help you with it, you’re mortified. Luckily Joel is there to help.

From My Skin to Yours ☔️🤧

joel survives and finds life deep inside of you.

Burning Pile 🤧 hero/villain au + one takes care of the other’s injuries

the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

Wildflower ☔️

after seeing a delivery of supposedly aphrodisiac petals, you give them a try, convinced that they wouldn't work. Joel finds you in a not-so-professional position.

Sleepy Hollow ☔️🧁

a typical morning in jackson.

Light Petplay thoughts w/ joel miller ☔️

Exile 🤧☔️

Runners. Stalkers. Clickers. Shamblers. Bloaters.

Domestics.

All infected. One unlike the other.

You expect the infection to eat you from the inside out, turning you into something horrid. But instead, you find yourself with leaf-shaped ears and antlers that belong to a deer. While you live out the rest of your days trying to adjust to your new features and survive, you meet Joel, a survivor just like you but with a more grim approach to life.

Both of you adopt the forest as your home. One wants the other gone, meanwhile the other will do anything to not be left alone.

Stay In Bed 🤧☔️🧁

joel miller x reader, onesided tommy miller x reader

After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance. The reason for this is due to one crucial fact you don’t know but he does; Tommy has a crush on you. Which means you’re off limits no matter what. But as your own feelings for Joel grow, things start to get more and more complicated.

Head Filled With Parasites (musician!joel miller) ☔️

One night you decide to visit a bar all by yourself. There you meet a guitarist, Joel miller, and things escalate from there. Here you'll find snippets and one-shots of the relationship.

Dark Hearted People ( joel miller x reader x ezra)

Trying to reach Tommy, you and Joel meet a charming stranger. He persuades the two of you into helping him find his stolen equipment. During your travels, none of you expect to fall for one another.

Behind The Velvet Rope ☔️

(bodyguard!joel miller x actress!reader x dieter bravo)

a grumpy bodyguard, an eccentric actor, and you, who is thrust into the limelight. What can go wrong? The three navigate the challenges of Hollywood, tensions may arise and conflicts may occur but they’ll always have each other to lean on.

Ravish Masterlist ☔️

(webcam model!reader x joel miller, no outbreak)

Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

Followed The Beast 🤧

You, both a member of David's group and one of his former victims, are already contemplating escape when Ellie arrives at the resort. Seeking Ellie, you decide to take advantage of the unexpected opportunity to run. But before you can find Ellie, you cross paths with Joel instead.

How Mr Miller Stole Christmas ☔️🤧🧁

enemies to lovers, fake dating, roommates, close proximity, age gap

You're the sole firefly that Joel spared in his pursuit to free Ellie from the hospital bed. You have no idea what it was—maybe it was the fact that you were significantly younger than the other soldiers, maybe it was because you were already out the door when he pointed a gun at you— no matter what it was you were miraculously spared from the bloodshed. Weeks later you find yourself in Jackson, wanting to leave the past behind. But of course, life has other plans. It always does.

No one knows what Joel did. No one except for you. And when you threaten the thinly veiled peace he managed to build for himself, he has you by the throat and against the wall. When people from the town see this in order to save face you kiss him, blurting out that you two are dating.

Rumors spread like wildfire and when a new family comes in, Tommy offers that they stay at your house and you to stay with Joel since you're already "dating".

Now you're stuck with each other with no way out. It's either keep the dating charade going or for the whole town—and Ellie—to learn the truth.

[tinytalkingtina]

Illusory Courage

Written for the @steddiemicrofic July challenge prompt #2, using the word "one" and 1,111 words.

In the same universe/same characters as my other DnD microfic, but intended as a standalone story showing how they met, no prior reading required.

1,111 words | Rating: T

CW: Dead Chrissy Cunnigham, brief description of a Vecna'd body

Tags: Fantasy DnD AU, Tiefling Steve Harrington, Anti-Tiefling racism, Steve Harrington has bad parents, Half-elf Eddie munson, pre-Steddie, past Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson, first meetings

Ao3 link

Stephen Harrington, heir to the barony of Loch Nora, left Lord Carver’s manor scowling. This fief was the same as the previous one. A dead body, found with the eyes gouged out and limbs twisted into unnatural angles. Except unlike the previous poor peasant boy, this time a noble had fallen victim to some sort of dark magic. It was certainly unusual for a Lord’s wife to vanish during the night, only to be discovered amidst the cows come morning. Unfortunately, Lord Carver had precious little to give them, beyond claiming the Lady Christine had been acting “distracted” as of late.   “Why are you so upset Steve? We were a full day’s travel out. It’s a tragedy for sure, but it’s not like you could have foreseen this happening.” Dustin urged his pony forward as fast as the old girl could go, laden down as she was with all of his contraptions. “Dustin, it’s Lord Harrington when we’re in public. You’re my official squire, we have to keep up appearances. And it’s not entirely that the Lady died, it’s how Lord Carver spoke about her, like she was some sort of trophy. He barely knew her. Now come on, I want to see the field she was found in before it gets too dark.”  Steve indulged in a ruffle to his squire’s hair. He reflexively pushed down the twinge of guilt; no one could possibly notice his horns hidden inside the matching decorations on his helm, or feel his claws when he kept them filed short and blunt. His tail remained tucked out of sight beneath layers of chain mail and plate. Even so, the thought of detection sent a trickle of fear down his spine. He needed a chance to perform penance for his family’s misdeeds. If he could snuff out enough evil, perhaps he could outweigh their crimes that proclaimed themselves for all to see on his body. And maybe, just maybe, his mother might look at him with something other than bitterness and disgust when he forewent his illusory magical mask at home.

Shoving his feelings aside, he herded Dustin towards the pasture as the last rays of light touched the tree tops. “Just as a precaution, you should set up an alarm spell. Don’t want to be caught unawares by anyone—or thing.”  Dustin nodded and scrambled off to set up a perimeter. Steve had sat through an explanation how the spell-infused gadget used stones attuned to the correct magical frequency before, but the engineering went over his head. He trusted his squire to do a good job though, and thanks to Dustin’s contraptions, he had an easier time swinging his weapons at monsters. Steve made his way to the center of the field, stopping short when his ears picked up someone singing. The tune, full of grief and longing, was nothing short of enchanting. He spied the singer, crumpled onto the ground next to the scorched crater marking where the Lady had been found. Steve approached slowly, one hand on his sword. But the clanking of armor alerted the singer, and he startled. Oh, the singer was beautiful. Even dimmed by tears, those big dark eyes were just as expressive as his voice. Steve caught sight of an ear that gently tapered to a small point poking out from the riot of curls atop his head. Oh, an elf. That certainly explained the features. Summoning upon long-ago tutoring, Steve managed to offer an only slightly clumsy greeting in Elvish. But the elf just blinked those wide eyes at him in confusion. “I don’t understand whatever it is you just said, but you should leave, stranger. There was a death here last night, the Lady of the manor, she—” His voice cracked. “She’s dead.” “Yes, we have been advised of the situation, my good elf. We were the ones sent to investigate.” “Of course he thinks I’m an elf,” the singer muttered to himself as he ran a hand through his hair.

As he did, a glint of metal caught Steve’s eye. Looking closer, he spied a thick silver band inlaid with a dark stone. One that looked suspiciously like the ring Lord Carver had raged about losing to petty thievery when they recovered Lady Christine’s body. “And it appears we have something to investigate. Care to explain how the late Lady’s ring ended up on your hand?” The would-be thief’s pretty face hardened as he took a challenging step forward. Steve stepped back in equal measure, a practiced look of haughty disinterest on his face. Any discomfort perfectly hidden away beneath the mask. His father’s voice echoed in his ear: Keep your distance Stephen. Despite your…affliction, you’re still of noble birth. “I know it’s hard for you nobles to consider this, mi’lord”, the thief said, spitting the word out as if swearing. “But whatever you’ve been told, not all us common folk are out to steal whatever our grubby little hands touch. Chrissy—the Lady, gave this to me. She engraved my name on it, even.” He brandished the ring, and sure enough, in delicate handwriting, an “Edward” was scratched onto the inside. “Fine then, my apologies. If you were truly close to the Lady, perhaps you can assist me in questioning the Lord further.” This Edward lifted his chin defiantly. “Don’t think I’m going to help you give that hollow bitter man any closure. Or did the noble sitting in his fine manor not tell you? He officially banished me from these lands a full month ago for ‘enticing his sweet Lady’ to wickedness. Wasn’t supposed to stick around much longer, but it seems that freaks like myself don’t get happy endings with those we love, do we. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Edward began to retreat without looking. Before Steve could warn him, he stepped directly into the crater. As soon as he crossed the boundary, a chill wind circled, carrying with it distorted bell chimes and chittering. Steve’s sword glowed: some sort of necromancy was afoot, and now this half-elf was its target. Steve gritted his teeth. “I’m not about to turn you in. But unfortunately for you Edward the Banished, you’ve just been marked by something evil, and I can’t permit that evil the opportunity to hurt you or any others. But I promise, by my oath, I’ll do everything I can to protect you and try to avenge your Lady.” Edward blinked those large eyes at him, his expression full of fear and anger. Steve sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy, adding an unwilling soul to his party. Hopefully, this man would continue to keep his distance until the evil was dispatched.

Tagging some folks who've shown interest in ST DnD AUs, feel free to ask to be removed!

@augustjustice @hornedqueenofhell @puppy-steve @devondespresso

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hi! This request was easier to search for, so I see you’ve recommended Hearts of Wulin and Ten Thousand Days for the Sword. Do you have any other wuxia or xianxia game recs?

Have a good day!

THEME: Wuxia Games.

Hello friend, I'm certainly not an expert, but after reaching out to some more knowledgeable folks, I think I have a few!

Jiangshi: Blood in the Banquet Hall, by Wet Ink Games.

This is a collaborative, storytelling RPG about a Chinese family making their living by running a restaurant in one of America’s Chinatowns, circa 1920. Despite societal backlash and anti-Chinese laws, they have turned a profit and their quality of life has recently improved.

Night, however, brings a new terror.

Players take on the roles of members of the Chinese family (mostly from Guangdong province), spanning three generations, who face threats of jiangshi (hopping vampires) at night and racism by day. It has players balancing the responsibility of maintaining their family business with protecting themselves and their community from the dreaded Jiangshi. This is primarily a game about storytelling. Combat is limited, but horror, drama and sometimes comedy are the primary vehicles for driving the game forward.

This game draws quite a bit from boardgaming elements, so I think this one is best played around a physical table, especially since it requires a custom deck of cards. You’ll use these cards to represent the demands of running a restaurant in the day, as well as fighting of a vampire at night. This game is probably on the borders of what I think is considered wuxia, but if you have a horror lover in your group, this might be worth checking out.

Exalted, by Onyx Path Games.

This is the tale of a forgotten age before the seas were bent, when the world was flat and floated atop a sea of chaos. This is the tale of a decadent empire raised up on the bones of the fallen Golden Age, whose splendor it faintly echoed but could not match. This is a tale of primal frontiers, of the restless dead, of jeweled cities ruled openly by spirits in defiance of Heaven’s law. This is a tale of glorious heroes blessed by the gods, and of their passions and the wars they waged in the final era of legends.

Exalted has a number of different sources, only one of which feels close to wuxia, but the stories are certainly expected to give you long, sweeping epics and larger-than-life characters. There are many different kinds of Exalted, including Solars, Lunars, and Dragon-Blooded. Since I’m not a wuxia connoisseur myself, I’m not entirely sure how close Exalted comes to hitting the mark - I’m mostly recommending it because it came up connected to some other wuxia fantasy games when I was doing some searching.

Jiang Hu, by wum1ng.

Jiang Hu is a role-playing game for the wuxia genre. Drawing inspiration from wuxia novels written by luminaries such as Jin Yong and Gu Long, the Feng Yun comics from Ma Rong Chen and the multitude of wuxia movies and television series, this game brings the world of dashing swordsmen, warrior monks, brawling beggars and high-flying stunts to your tabletop. 

Players take on the role of Martial Artists fighting against various threats to the lands of Jiang Hu, ranging from evil sect leaders who have mastered forbidden secret martial arts techniques to megalomaniacs seeking to take over the Imperial Throne by force and the blood of countless innocents.

The Worlds Without Number series by Kevin Crawford has its praises sung by many people, especially folks in the OSR scene, and that is the bones that this game is built on. Your character is built from quite a list of skills, which are differentiated between Combat and Non-Combat. You also have a number of secondary attributes, for things such as Armour Class, Evasion, and Luck, as well as a dedicated space on your character sheet for weapons and martial arts. Expect combat to to take up a bulk of your time!

When you roll for your character background, you also get a significant life event that is expected to shape your character’s past, such as having a loved one murdered, or falling into serious debt. Out of all of the games listed here, I think this game is the closest to D&D, what with the “packages” of skills, items and abilities attached to each background.

The Oath, by brushmen.

"We seek not to be born on the same day, but hope to die on the same day." And with such an oath, Yong, Li, and Ming swore loyalty to each other.

When earthly desires tempt them, and devotions threaten to tear them apart, with or without a hand from uncaring fate…

will their oath endure?

The Oath is a collaborative storytelling game for one Game Moderator and three players.

This is meant to be a one-shot, which borrows the Entanglements system from Hearts of Wulin and the character Keys and Tags from Lady Blackbird. Since this game comes with characters already pre-written, it would probably be very good for groups who have very little time, or who want an easy on-ramp to games or the wuxia genre. I like the fact that the Keys give you prompts and directions for your character’s behaviour; it’s strong statement on how the author interprets the genre, but it still gives you, the player, a choice on what elements of your character will be emphasized, and what elements will take up the background.

brushmen also has another wuxia Lady Blackbird hack called The Escort, about recovering from a violent robbery, this one for four players and one GM.

Four Swords, by ehronlime.

This is a tabletop roleplaying game about being young heroes in a wuxia story, made for the #AsianMartialArtsJam.

You start with your First Sword, which you use to challenge other heroes and villains and strive for mastery.

You will then gain three more Swords: the Second a sword of great pride and regret, the Third a sword of mastery and expression, and the Fourth a sword which is no sword.

You will also struggle between the obligations put upon your by others and what you truly desire from the life of a wandering hero.

Four Swords really zeroes in on the combat mastery part of wuxia fantasy. Your characters will grow into mastery, and battle with rigid codes and rules that structure the world you live in. The game is very descriptive, leaving you with only 4 abilities that are meant to broadly encompass what you are able to do. The game encourages characters to interfere with each-other using a mechanic called Vows, and levelling up gives you access to different techniques, which reinforce the competence of your characters as well as the rigid guidelines by which they might improve.

This game was made for the Asian Martial Arts by Asian Creators Game Jam, so you might find some more wuxi-themed games there!

Blades of the Immortals, by Jagganoth.

Blades of the Immortals is a tabletop roleplaying game inspired by xiānxiá. It uses the Forged in the Dark rules engine developed by John Harper, as seen in games like Blades in the Dark and Beam Saber.

In Blades of the Immortals, you will take on the roles of cultivators, striving for your own ambitions, for the glory of your sect, and for the ultimate prize —  immortality. You'll viciously struggle for scarce resources, compete for the patronage of powerful and influential teachers, gather allies to your banner, and scheme against your enemies. Your cultivators will wield mystical treasures and supernatural spell-arts, mastering the very laws of the cosmos as their weapons, as they become entangled in centuries-long vendettas between deathless wizard-kings.

This game is solidly focused on supernatural abilities and grand increases in strength. You choose from one of 9 different playbooks, and collaboratively create a faction that binds you all together. The sources listed as inspirations for this game include (but are not limited to) Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Forge of Destiny, Aspiring to the Immortal Path, and Journey to the West.

Compared to other Blades hacks, this game reduces the standard number of action ratings, ties character growth to a change in your character’s beliefs, and separates your gear from your playbook. Characters can also level up through Realms, which increases your effectiveness and upgrades your inventory.

Mist-Robed Gate, by Shreyas & Elizabeth Sampat.

There are some things that we value more than life.

There are things we're willing to scheme and cry and fight and die for.

That's what wuxia cinema is about— fighting and dying for the things we care about. That's what Mist-Robed Gate is about.

Mist-Robed Gate comes with a full list of movie recommendations, but includes Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and House of Flying Daggers as key influences. I really like the fact that a key mechanic of this game includes stabbing your character sheet with a knife.

Players create factions first, and then take turns creating characters that represent those factions, with elements that represent the hero’s distinctive personality and style. Players also create the different locations that will serve as the stage for your scenes. Play happens over a series of scenes, as their characters push and pull against each-other, sometimes even making terrible demands (which is where the Knife comes in). If you want a game that has a lot of politics in the terms of actions having large ramifications over big groups of people, and if you want a game that is extremely dramatic, you might want to check out Mist-Robed Gate.

[lilac-melody]

Anyway, so this was basically Hiyori's anti-fan song and Nonfantasy 2.0.

Most of the song takes place in Hiyori's head- imagining herself as a peasant girl along with lipxlip's Juliettas.

"To every girl, make sure you stay as far away as you can! Make sure you don't catch the infection." Hiyori looks like she's cringing so hard it's physically painful for her...and the lyrics right after are literally "get away from me!"

Followed by this we got the dream of her imagining Aizou and Yujiro doing princely things. The lyrics are as follows:

"This can't be! That's cheating! It's dishonest and unfair!! You don't take responsibility for their feelings for you!! Too much! It's dangerous! So risky and insane!! Cunning is the "power of idols" Still, I can't help it... I need to accept this is how it is."

And then she wakes up with a shocked and mildly terrified expression on her face.

While someone like Chuutan would be crying she woke up from her dream, Hiyori acts as a nice foil against that, knowing what they're really like and, unfortunately, working with them so often she has to see their princely persona and ends up dreaming about it against her will. (And come on, who doesn't have work nightmares?)

The next part of the song is basically Hiyori realizing that, hey, idols get depressed too, they're still people, and realizing that she can't really help them, because...well, I've already gone over lipxlip's relationship here, so if you want to read that, I'd go there afterwards.

This part I think is particularly important because it doesn't take place in her dreams. This is real life. Hiyori tries to offer something to cheer them up (ala some drinks they like). But they completely ignored her, as the lyrics say.

It's sad, but they just won't rely on her for their emotional baggage. You're doing your best Hiyori, just move on...

"Sometimes, their kindness can be a little scary"

I know this is part of Hiyori's dream, but honestly I'm not seeing how this is seen as "aww cute"...anyone showing an ounce of kindness to her, she gets flustered over. To me personally, this reminds me of this moment from HeroineDev...

She superficially fell for Asuka's kindness. And the relationship went absolutely nowhere. Much like how it would be (confirmed by Shito back in 2021 I think it was?) if Hiyori really had actually fallen for lipxlip.

Which, again, who doesn't have nightmares about work?

Afterwards we get more straight bait fanservice while Hiyori sings about how deceitful Aizou and Yujiro are to their fans because their princely persona isn't them. And then it ends off with her singing:

"It's so frustrating but... I'm just as excited as everyone else."

It could be read as "proof Hiyori's falling in love" if you're looking at it through a lhyo shipper lense, but if you're paying attention to the relationship between Hiyori and lxl as a whole, it could easily be seen as "idols are really cool", something that Hiyori has canonically said in the novels. She knows how hard they work and she knows they can charm anyone. That is what Hiyori is referring to.

She doesn't particularly want to be their fan, but she does want to support them. Much like how friends support each other, but still very different from the intimate ways Aizou and Yujiro support each other.

My point is actually proven correct ^ when we see the very next frames.

"This isn't something just anyone can do You need to put in the effort and hardwork."

Hiyori, who is a hard worker herself, admires their hard work and dedication to their fans...which is precisely why the song is her screaming at them for deceiving them lmao.

At the end of the day though, Aizou and Yujiro are still her friends, who get weirded out when she expresses her support towards them.

Or if she's just daydreaming.

The night and day difference between her imagining them doing fanservice in her mind and real life is really...something.

Look how utterly annoyed they look at her for zoning out.

This isn't a cute "I'm falling for my coworkers and daydreaming about them" scenario. This is her trying to imagine them as princes and them not knowing it.

Hiyori is their friend and suspectable to an active imagination. Not just in the MVs but in the novels as well.

And I think it says a lot about their relationship that all of the fanservice is strictly in Hiyori's perspective.

When lipxlip have a fanservice song, they either use Narumi Sena, or just a random girl. But when it's Hiyori imagining them doing the fanservice, it's all in her head. HeroIdol and Nonfantasy are literal proof of this.

It is extremely onesided.

Aizou and Yujiro care for Hiyori- this is undeniable. However, they do not like her in that way. Not only has Aizou canonically stated he doesn't get involved with girls outside of work, but they just don't see her in that light.

I mean, in every single lxl song that included Hiyori, like Kono Sekai or Last Stage, she's there for like 2 small frames and it's her being in the background or trying to stop them from fighting. They never once had a frame where they're talking to her and ignoring the other or venting to her.

She's their "work friend" who they've hung out with like twice outside of work. They only contact her in emergencies.

That's not to say they don't support Hiyori and her dreams, because they do. They support her in finding someone who will take care of her (ie: Nagisa) because they care about her, and they don't see her in that way.

And given that the time skip in HeroHei and Sukiuso shows Hiyori and Nagisa attending the same uni...yeah.

Also, I would like to point out that in HeroIdol, Hiyori thinks of herself as just a peasant girl among the (fake) princes. It's like a metaphor for saying "they're out of my league even though they're really awful". Not a good look for her or for lipxlip, honestly.

But in Herohei, she sees herself as a Cinderella who's worthy of being a heroine. Meanwhile, Sukiuso is about Nagisa saying she's better than Cinderella and she's always been a heroine.

TMK did all three MVs, and I think this was a deliberate choice to show everyone how unhealthy one would be, while the other blossoms naturally.

Not once has Hiyori imagined herself as a princess around lipxlip. Her insecurities come out when she's around them because they poke fun at her too often. (Beat they ass, Nagisa)

The Omoiai album, which is where HeroIdol came from, is about various different relationships. While Aizou and Yujiro's are familial, Hiyori's was a unique one. A, as I've said above, anti-fan song.

Which goes directly against Chuutan's fan songs.

I think it's important to have them both, and I like that we get the perspective of Chuutan, someone who genuinely sees them as princely, and Hiyori, who cringes when she sees their prince-sonas.

And it is important to note that we never get lipxlip's perspective- knowing they find their over excited fans annoying, and only see Hiyori as a friend. Otherwise she would be in more of their MVs and not just a background character.

I think too many people forget to realize that if they were going into a relationship, then we need them to say "yeah I'm falling for her" and not just Hiyori, when she's known to fall into little delusions. (And no, I don't mean that in a negative way)

IN SHORT: No, lhiyo is not canon, and this song was just an anti-fan song.

[lambtotheslaughterr]

When The Bough Breaks : Part One

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

MASTERLIST | PART TWO

SUMMARY: Reader is a content housewife to her wealthy husband who she somewhat loves. After a tragedy shakes both their lives, reader & her husband move to the island of Kildare to start over, but an all too interested young man next door will make their new home anything but pleasant…

            The mornings weren’t any easier just because your husband decided to move the two of you to the North Carolina coast. You still woke up late in the morning, your head foggy from the previous nights’ cocktail of wine & anti-depressant. You of all people knew better than to mix your medication with alcohol, especially with your husband being a pain management physician, but even he couldn’t take away the pain you felt in the deepest darkest parts of your heart.

Moses McFarlane, your husband, meant well. He was suffering as much as you were, but you two never spoke about it. The loss forced you into a constant zombie-like state, & it forced your husband to spend more time at work. But with the recent move to another environment, one that was warmer & prettier, your husband was home more often. Back in the city he was working 60+ hours a week, five days a week. Now, having lived on the island of Kildare for less than a month, he worked at a smaller hospital an hour & a half inland. So he was only working three days a week now, staying in a small apartment inland so he didn’t have to commute every day.

The three days he was gone never made much a difference to you. Even during the days he was home he was still absent. He was always nearby, but never close. You knew he wanted to support you as best as he could, it’s why he followed the advice of the counselor & moved you to somewhere with more sun. But he struggled with wanting to talk about it. You refused to talk about it. There was no point in it.

On this particular morning, it was 10:30 when you finally rolled out of bed. The house you two moved into was impressively large for a beach home. Three stories, six bedrooms, direct beach access. A year ago you would’ve loved the home, excited to fill it with family & happy memories. But it was just you in it. And sometimes your husband. You had never felt more alone.

You freshened up in the bathroom, splashing your face with water. The reflection in the mirror looked nothing like the vibrant woman from a year ago. Your skin was ashen, splotchy from the regular amounts of wine consumed. Your hair was dry, the ends splitting. The skin under your eyes was baggy & gray. Your mouth tasted bad. Lazily, you leaned against the counter with your back to the mirror, brushing your teeth.

It was Wednesday. Moses left for his three day long stay inland Monday evening. He wouldn’t be back until Friday morning. When you left the bedroom, you noted his side of the bed was unslept in. It normally was. You often found him having fallen asleep on a lounger in the screened in sunroom off the kitchen. Though you saw how much he still loved you, you often wondered if he blamed you.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you emerged from the master bedroom on the top floor, trudging down the hallway. The rest of the third floor was a living room, dining room, & kitchen. Entering the kitchen, you noticed an empty liter & a half bottle of wine stood in the kitchen sink, a wine glass next to it. The bad taste returned to your mouth.

Tossing the bottle in a nearby recycling bin & the glass in the dishwasher, you started a pot of coffee. As your coffee brewed, you reached into a cabinet on the left side of the sink. You pulled out over-the-counter painkillers to kill the growing headache. Washing two of them down with a glass of water, you rinsed the glass, staring mindlessly through the window.

It was another beautiful day out, as typical with North Carolina weather you realized. You contemplated if you would finally go out & enjoy it. The hiss of your coffee pot interrupted your thoughts.

Pouring yourself a mug, you sat at the counter on one of the stools, allowing yourself to be enveloped by the silence of the house. It was too early to take your medication. Though you recklessly mixed your medication with alcohol, you didn’t want to abuse it further by taking too much. That’s what the wine was for. And that was usually in the evening when you needed to sleep. But it was day time. You needed to find something to distract yourself. Or else his laughter would begin echoing through the empty home.

Inhaling sharply, you grabbed your mug & went out onto the back patio that overlooked a spacious yard with a pool, the beach only a couple yards from the edge of your property. Other homes were nearby but not enough for you to feel part of a neighborhood. Sitting at the patio table, you recalled how you were once a social butterfly.

In the first years of your relationship with Moses, you two were very sociable. Though Moses was 20 years your senior, he still enjoyed hosting dinners with friends, taking small cruises along the Eastern Coast, & even attending his charity fundraisers. You two were a well-known & popular couple amongst your friends & colleagues. A small smile appeared on your face at the memory of your wedding & how wild it had gotten.

You had never imagined yourself getting married, let alone being in a long-term relationship. After all, you were 30 when your friend had set you up on a blind date with Moses. She had informed you that he was 51 & a doctor, recently divorced & looking for something casual & low maintenance. So, you were a shoe-in. Relationships had never been of great interest or importance to you. You were much too busy juggling your myriad of jobs. If a job couldn’t tie you down, a man surely never could.

But something about Moses kept you coming back for more. He had said the same about you. Your chemistry with one another was magnetic. He was handsome for his age; his hair dark with graying on the sides, his five-o-clock shadow was salt & pepper, but over the years it had become more salt. He had these soft, gentle dark blue eyes that paired well with his tanned skin. Honestly, you couldn’t believe that he was even in his 50s. And as you two spent the next seven years together, he only grew to be more handsome.

The memory of your love for one another made your stomach whirl with anxiety. Swallowing down the anxious feelings, you finished off your mug of coffee. You needed to get out of the house. After you placed the mug in the sink to be cleaned you later, you walked around the kitchen, writing down a list for groceries. Moses had groceries delivered when the two of you lived in the city but had yet to set an alternative up here. You didn’t mind though. It gave you something to do, somewhere to go.

Getting dressed for the day in your bedroom, you reluctantly decided to pop some make-up onto your face, liven it up a bit. From what little you knew about Kildare, it was one of those places where everyone knew everyone, & with it being your first appearance out in the world since moving to the island, you didn’t want the gossip to be about how wretched you looked. You imagined they were already discussing how you were an alcoholic, medicated recluse anyway.

Taking one final look in the mirror, you frowned at your middle. You had gained twenty or so pounds. The silk tank top you wore thankfully hid it enough, but you knew, you saw plenty. Disgusted with who you saw in the mirror, no matter what they wore or how much make-up they used to hide, you saw right through her. And she made you sick.

A grocery store on a tiny island was nothing like a grocery store in the city. There was no underground parking or two-three story level buildings that held everything a household could possibly need. On Kildare, the grocery store consisted of a small market & deli, along with a handful of produce stalls along a boardwalk.

You wore your shades under the sun, but did enjoy the feel of the rays against your skin as you meandered up to a vegetable stall. An older man stood behind it, taking animatedly on the phone. He nodded towards you in acknowledgment but carried on with his conversation. As you fingered & gripped tomatoes, looking for the ripest ones, you subtly observed your surroundings. There were not a ton of people out this morning, but considering it was the middle of the week it was no surprise. However, you were aware of a few stares from passerby’s as they shopped amongst themselves. No one approached you though, for that you were thankful.

You handed three tomatoes to the man to bag. He did as much then placed them on a scale, writing down on a piece of paper the weight then did some math, all while still on the phone deep in conversation. You were mildly impressed by the old school standards of the island thus far. He returned the bag to you, trading it with your card. He swiped it then gave it back. You went on your merry way.

The market & deli was closest to where you parked. You wanted to walk along the boardwalk, taking your time getting back to avoid returning to that large, empty house that was now your home. You placed the bag of tomatoes in the trunk of your car, knowing they wouldn’t be in there for long while you shopped inside really quick. You were just opening the door to the royal blue building when a woman around your age was coming out of it.

Her eyes met your own through the sunglasses you wore. Then a warm pearly white smile appeared across her lips.

“Mrs. McFarlane!” The woman greeted, stepping off to the side so she wasn’t blocking the entrance to the building. You felt your lips part in confused discomfort. You didn’t know this woman…

“It’s so nice to finally meet you.” She offered her hand, a black leather Prada handbag dangling from the crevice of her curved elbow. Forcing down your blatant awkwardness, you gripped her hand weakly, shaking it once.

“Oh, you as well.” You muttered behind an unsure smile.

“Oh, sweetie, you don’t have to pretend to know who I am.” Her smile grew brighter, you were grateful to be wearing shades otherwise you might’ve gone blind.

“My name is Rose Cameron. I’m a realtor in Kildare. Your husband worked with my colleague Jack Shaeffer. He sold you the house on Three Weathers Lane.”

“Oh.” The name didn’t sound at all familiar. It was your husband who worked directly with the realtor, “Of course, yes.” You lied, the conversation quickly draining you. It was hard to believe that you spent your whole life thriving from conversations like so.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Jack had a lot of great things to say about your husband. We’re lucky to have another doctor on the island.”

“Barely.” You responded without a filter. Rose’s perfectly plucked eyebrows frowned slightly. You rebutted, “I mean, he works inland three days a week, so he’s not really a doctor for Kildare.”

“I see.” Rose scrunched her nose cutely, “Well, still. It’s nice to meet you. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other often.”

Oh? The unspoken word must’ve been evident across your features. Rose laughed a light-hearted airy sound. You imagined if Kildare had a laugh to match it’s feel, it would be hers.

“We live down the road from you.” Rose informed, “My husband & I & his three children.”

“Oh, yes.” You started, “I imagine we’ll see each other enough.” You hadn’t intended for the comment to sound as unenthusiastic as it had but it couldn’t be helped. Rose’s wide smile had reduced to a close-lipped one at that point.

“I’ll get out of your way, then.” She shuffled to the side, her heels clacking proudly against the pavement as she began to walk away.

“And, Mrs. McFarlane, if you need anything, anything at all. Please don’t hesitate to give me a ring. Or to show up on our doorstep. Oh!” She approached you a second time, pulling out her phone, “Actually, while I have you. I would love to have you & your husband over for dinner. Since we’re going to be neighbors it would be nice for us all to get to know one another. This is Kildare, after all. Everyone looks out for everyone.”

Her final comment left you feeling unsettled. In a blur, you found yourself entering your number on her phone. She rang you once so you could log hers. After trading was completed, Rose grabbed your hand, “I’m so excited to get to know you, Mrs. McFarlane.”

You had actually kept your maiden name in your marriage to Moses, so hearing her call you by his last name was different. “Call me _____.” You told her, “I much prefer my name.”

“Of course.” She grinned, “I’ll call you soon to arrange dinner. Have a good day, _____.”

You barely uttered out a ‘you too’ before she strolled away.

You stood outside the market for a few moments in a daze, feeling as if you were recovering from whiplash in a car accident. When you left your house this morning, you certainly hadn’t expected to befriend—if you could call it that—a stranger & be invited to dinner in the same breath. You only hoped that she was the type to offer a gesture to be polite, not to actually follow through.

Putting the encounter behind you, you entered the market & carried on with your shopping. On the drive back home, you were relieved you didn’t meet any other Kildare residents that were kind enough to approach you. The social butterfly you used to be had long since flown away. Pulling into the driveway, you sat in the car peering up at the house. It wasn’t particularly your taste but you knew Moses was only trying what he thought would be best for you, for the both of you.

The bright blue three story beach-house was the exact opposite of your 18th floor condo in the city. You had to admit that the fresh air that North Carolina offered was nice, as well as the view from every single window in your new home. You allowed yourself to smile up at the house, even if it fell a few seconds later.

Once all the groceries were put away, you noted that it was only 3 in the afternoon. You found it hard to believe that four hours had passed so quickly. But you knew it was a side effect of the medication. It made you sigh internally as you recalled the ridiculous amount of time you spent in an aisle at a time for 15 minutes, having trouble deciding between two different pasta sauce brands simply because you couldn’t focus your mind. You considered telling your doctor about it, but decided against it.

In the butler’s kitchen near the dining room, you pulled out a bottle of red by the neck. It was earlier than typical for you to begin drinking, but the abrupt meeting with your overly friendly neighbor had pushed you to seek comfort inside a bottle.

Kicking off your heels by the backdoor, you threw an accent blanket over your shoulder & went into the sunroom off the kitchen. Moses slept out here often so you wanted to see why he preferred this over the comfort & warmth of your bed, though you knew it likely had nothing to do with the bed. Settling into a lounger, you corked open the bottle & poured yourself a glass. You rested against the back of the lounger, taking a sip of the wine. The light flavors of rose & cherry coated your tongue deliciously. The sounds of the ocean calmed your nerves. You set an alarm on your phone for 4’o’clock to take your medication in case you fell asleep.

Taking another sip of wine, you pulled the blanket up to your shoulders, tucking your bare feet under yourself. Fluttering your eyes closed, you fought back the images of a two year old smiling at you. A tear escaped. And then sleep came for you, just in time to take the pain away.

“Sarah!”

A man’s voice in the distance woke you. You groaned, opening your eyes slowly. Your body ached in protest with your sluggish movement. The first thing you noted was that it was completely dark out. Your head was pounding. On the side table to your right, the bottle of wine had been half drunk. You frowned. You didn’t remember drinking it that much. Further, your phone was lit up with notifications.

Picking it up, you had 3 missed calls & 2 text messages. All from Moses. You would call him in the morning. It was too late now. The time on your phone read 9:00 p.m. You shot forward at the realization. Hissing to yourself, you clumsily moved inside to the kitchen where your pills were kept in a cabinet by the fridge. You had slept right through your alarm. It wasn’t too detrimental to be late on taking your medication but you tried to be regular with it. A morbid part of you laughed internally at your attempt to be ‘good’ with the medication. The bottle of red, & the many others in the recycling bin would argue otherwise.

Swallowing the chalky pink pill dry, you winced past the taste. The wine would chase away the taste. Returning to the sunroom, you finished off what was left in your glass, about ready to pour yourself another one before going up to bed when a man yelled again. This time closer.

“Sarah! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.” He sounded angry, beyond angry.

The patio lights were off so you wouldn’t be seen when you stepped out onto the patio from the sunroom.

“Leave me alone, Rafe. You’re a mess.” A woman’s voice sounded next.

It took you a moment to find the pair, not used to the landscape outside your house just yet. In the dark, just at the edge of your property line, you could make out a young man & woman as they faced each other.

Whatever they were saying now you were unable to hear since they weren’t shouting. But you watched on, curious. From what you could see, the man appeared upset, talking fast & animatedly as he got in the woman’s face. She had her arms crossed in front of her, shaking her head, but she wasn’t submitting to him. You took another sip of your wine, watching them as if they were a trash reality show on the TV.

But then it escalated. Badly.

The woman, who you noted couldn’t be yet in her 20’s, turned her back on the man. Swiftly, he spun her around & slapped her.

“Fuck off, Rafe!” She screamed at him, ripping her arm out of his grip & taking off across your backyard. The man looked as if he was about to follow when you yelled out.

“Hey! Get outta here before I call the cops!” You hollered. The young man paused in his steps to glare up in your direction, but you knew he likely had a hard time even making you out against the darkness of your unlit house.

“I’m serious, kid. I’m calling them right now.” He lowered his eyes, glaring in the direction the woman had taken off in before turning on his heel & stomping off in the opposite direction. Leaving your wine on the patio, you went inside, speed-walking to the stairs. When you got to the second floor, you opened your front door, hoping you’d see where the girl disappeared to if she indeed went to the front side of your home.

Sure enough, you saw her sitting at the end of your driveway, a phone in her hand.

Grabbing a cardigan in the nearby closet, you stepped out, calling out her.

“Are you okay?”

The tanned blonde spun around, her eyes narrowing in your direction.

“Do you need me to call the cops?”

When she finally spotted you, she began walking towards you. You descended the stairs to the ground level, meeting her at the bottom. Once you saw her up close, your heart hurt for her. She absolutely couldn’t be any older than 20, she still looked like she could be in high school.

“No, I’m okay, thank you, though.”

You frowned, “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t know that asshole was but any man who puts his hand on a woman deserves a night in jail.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled in agreement, “Unfortunately he wouldn’t even make it to the backseat of the police car.”

When she saw the look of confusion on your face she continued, “My dad wouldn’t let a cuff touch his skin.”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, leaning against the railing to your stairs, “that was my darling brother who slapped me.”

Your stomach flipped at her information. A father that allows his son to hit his sister? You presumed that it wasn’t a man at all who raised these kids.

“I’m sorry.” You said, “Would you like to come inside? I can order you an Uber or if you have someone coming to get you…”

“That’s okay.” She shrugged, but smiled weakly nonetheless, “I live down the road a ways. I was just gonna walk back after he cooled off.”

You nodded, not entirely liking the idea that this young girl you had just met would have to return to a home where her own brother feels hitting her is okay.

“Well, come in anyway. No point in standing out here.”

She hesitated for a moment but nodded, “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Once inside, you led her up the stairs & to the kitchen. Your bottle of anti-depressants sat on the counter. Before she could spot them, you swiped them quickly & deposited them in the closest drawer.

“Are you hungry at all? Thirsty?” You offered, knowing damn well that you really didn’t have any prepared to eat despite having gone grocery shopping.

She shook her head, admiring the interior of your home, “I’ve always wondered what it looked like inside here.” She commented, “The last owners were an old couple who let their family stay here throughout the years. None of them were half as nice as you.”

You chuckled lightly at that, “I wouldn’t say I’m much nice either.”

“Sure, you are.” She returned, “You’re letting a random girl into your house in the middle of night from right off the street.”

You pondered this, nodding in agreement, “You are right. I wouldn’t have done that in the city.”

“Thank you, though. I do appreciate it.” She grinned at you, “I’m Sarah, by the way.”

“_____.” You shared.

Sarah slid into a stool at the counter, drumming her fingers on the granite.

“So,” you started, “your brother hits you & your dad doesn’t care.”

Her eyes widened, “Oh, I wouldn’t say he doesn’t care. Not at all. If he knew Rafe has hit me before he’d hit him back harder. He just wouldn’t let Rafe go to jail for it. For his own good.”

“Your brothers own good?” You questioned, not understanding the logic.

“No, my dad’s own good.” She corrected.

“Oh.” You felt your face fall. You had met plenty of people like that back in the city. Who cared more about the reputation with their name then the well-being of their kids & loved ones. It didn’t surprise you though that such people existed on an exquisite & upper class island.

“Yeah.” Sarah pursed her lips, “Anyway, how do you like Kildare so far?”

It was your turn to shrug, “I haven’t explored it much. Today was the first time I left the house, to be honest.”

“That’s fair. I’ve lived here my whole life & I can assure you that it’s not nearly as impeccable as people make it out to be. You’re probably better off staying at home like you have been.”

“How old are you?” You asked.

“18.”

“Oh, wow.” You furrowed your brows, “At least you’re old enough now to leave your home. Get away from your prick brother.”

“Ha, yeah.” She nodded but it was solemn, “If he or my dad would ever let me. That’s what he was chasing me down about.”

“Because you want to leave?”

“Kind of.” She shook her head, “There’s this guy I’ve been seeing, & he comes from the other side of the island. My dad wouldn’t like it if he found that out but my brother knows already & he’s always barking at me to dump him.”

“Gross.” You commented, “It’s the 21st century. The men in your family don’t control who you date.”

Sarah smiled at that, “You should tell em as much.”

“What’s your address? I’ll do it now.” You joked. Sarah giggled but soon the smile disappeared, “I’ll get out. One day. Hopefully sooner than later.”

“If you need anything,” you began, recalling Rose Cameron’s offer earlier in the day, “You can always come here. My husband is gone during the week so it’s just me here. I won’t shut you out if you need a place to escape to.”

Sarah’s brown eyes sparkled at that, “Really? I mean, I don’t wanna bother you. I’d give anything to be alone.”

You sighed heavily, “I think being alone is probably the last thing I need these days.”

You & Sarah traded smiles, “Okay. I might take you up on that. Especially if Rafe is being a dick again.”

“Especially.” You enunciated.

An hour later, Sarah went home. You had offered one of the many guest bedrooms but she insisted on going home, that if she didn’t then her brother & his cronies would scour the entire island for her & the first place they’d look is her boyfriend’s. You waved her off from the patio as she parted through your backyard where you first saw her. Once she was out of sight, you gathered the half empty wine bottle & glass of wine, going into the kitchen. Without a thought in mind, you emptied the remnants of wine in the glass into the sink, re-corking the wine & putting it back on a shelf in the butler’s kitchen.

Speaking with Sarah for an hour had made you feel really good. More so, it made you forget about your grief. Sarah had clued you in on all the Kildare island need-to-know. The most important being that there were two classes of people on the island: kooks & pogues, the latter of which Sarah’s boyfriend was, which is why her brother & dad wouldn’t approve of the relationship. They were proud kooks, as she said.

Listening to her talk about her life & all that she & her friends get up to made you smile for the first time in a long time. You listened intently, paralleling your own teenage experiences with her own. Even the memory of being a teenager felt like it was hundreds of years ago. Sarah had been sweet enough though to escape you for much younger than you were. She was shocked to discover you were 37, commenting that she wouldn’t have guessed anywhere north of 30. For that you were relieved, feeling much better about yourself than you had in the last year.

Turning off the lights in your house, you crossed the third floor to your bedroom. Undressing, you slipped into one of Moses’ old college sweaters before climbing into bed. It would be the first night since moving here that you didn’t depend on wine to fall asleep. Sarah & her youth had made you forget all about your pain.

You would allow yourself this one night to feel painless, knowing well-enough that the pain would undoubtedly return in the morning.

First part to my new Rafe Cameron series! I am so so excited to begin this new venture. I already know every detail about this story & can't wait to share it with you guys. Rafe will make an appearance in the next part so be sure to follow me or ask to be on the taglist for this series, or Rafe in general, to not miss it.

In the meantime, share your thoughts with me! Any & all feedback in the form of a reblog with tags, a thoughtful comment, or dropping an ask are huge motivators to post sooner. I really would love to hear your thoughts so far. So, let me know!

Thanks for reading.

oona<3

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[sapphic-moon-child]

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia

Larissa x Wife!Reader

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia - Larissa x Reader

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia - Larissa x Reader

It was truly the worst time of year for you. The warm summer days that eased your joints in the early sun were fading and the chill of fall was setting in. You knew a flair was coming on when you went to bed the night before, but when you woke up it was so much worse. You kept a bin next to the bed for bad pain days, and today was no exception. Rolling over your joints ached and cracked as you're swollen hands quickly reached for the bin. Retching almost painfully, you felt your hair being moved from your face and a soft hand rubbing circles on your back. Once you were finished the bin was removed from your shaking hands and taken care of quickly. You could hear the water running in the tub and the smell tea followed.

“Come darling, let's try to get a head of this and ease the symptoms while the needs kick in.” Larissa said sweetly, handing you your purple cane and helping to steady you on your feet. This woman was your rock, and you loved her. When you first came to Nevermore as an English teacher you only had mild symptoms, now 5 years later you were happily married to Larissa and together you co-taught your classes allowing you to still work and enjoy your passion even with your disability. The worst of your symptoms started two years ago, it was just a lot of swelling and aches. Now it was full blown flair ups, that sometimes lasted for days and on the rare occasion a week or more.

When a bad flare would start, Larissa would help start an IV of fluids to help ease your symptoms and push Your meds if you needed them. She was insistent that she learned how to do it, so that you could have them at home instead of the hospital. After a soak in the hot epsom salt bath and a cup of ginger tea she helped you dress in something comfortable and settled you back in bed. Starting one of your IVs she asked if you wanted some pain meds to help, you nodded and were grateful for her help and dedication. “Riss, I think I'm going to need my compression wraps” you told her, admitting defeat to the hell they were. She handed them to you and prepped your meds before pushing them through your IV and flushing it. After getting one leg wrapped in the tight compression wrap, you were exhausted. Handing her the other she took it without complaint and wrapped your other leg for you. The relief was worth the trouble of these stupid things, but you didn't care right now. “Can I have some Zofran please?” You asked, still feeling nauseous. She gave you a quick kiss and retrieved the minty tasting pill for you before placing it on your tongue to dissolve. After she did she set the flow rate on your IV and climbed into bed next to you. It only took about 5 minutes before you were so tired you couldn't hold your eyes open anymore. The fatigue set in and you easily succumbed to it.

When you woke it was midday and Larissa was gently stroking your cheek. “Hello darling, I brought you something to eat. It's time for some more meds too. You noticed she replaced your IV bag with a new one and it was on a very slow drip. Smiling, you thanked her and ate as much as you could of the cheese on toast and tomato soup she made you. “I have your pain meds as well as some anti inflammation meds and some more Zofran for you if you want it. I noticed you were perking in your sleep a bit too so I grabbed your spasm medication too.” She set the different syringes of meds down on your nightstand as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What would I do without you? You could have fallen in love with someone normal, and instead here you are taking care of me.” She almost looked hurt at your words. “Darling I married you because I love you, that means all of you. Good, bad and ugly.” You leaned forwards and gave her a soft kiss before settling back on the pillows again as you watched her push your meds again and flush your IV for you.

The day went on with lots of love and patience from your wife. You were blessed that she was compassionate with you, always making sure if you needed her she was there for you. You dropped your mobility aids and she would pick them up without question. And even during the night she would feel you start to get up and would wordlessly come around to your side of the bed and help you to your feet. She never complained, you hated how much like a burden you felt. She would just scoff and give you a kiss and tell you how much she loved you and that you were never a burden to her.

One of the things you most loved was how much she came to bat for you with your doctors, none of them seemed to take you seriously thinking you were just another drug seeker. She would tear each one a new one and bring your medical binder to slam in their faces if need be. She kept a detailed record of everything for you, calming her own anxieties in doing so keeping it all put together as fine as her updo. One doctor made the mistake of telling you on one of your bad days that it was all in your head and to try meditation. That was a mistake. “You mean to tell me that the pain, tears, swelling of her joints and other various symptoms are just a figment of her imagination? Well if that’s the case I’d rather like to take my stiletto to your ass and see how you think that imagination feels!” you still giggle over the memory of that poor doctor's face when Larissa was done with him. She could be down right scary when it came to the ones she loved. She was your lover, protector, wife, and blessed caregiver, and you loved her with everything you had in you.

Your students were also very loving and compassionate to you, they were always eager to help around the classroom and stay after class to help you prep if you needed it. You and Larissa thought of them like your own and had become mother figures to most of them. Your disability and adversity to it was the reason one particular girl came to you and Larissa with her own issues showing signs of the same chronic disease that plagued you. When you found out she had worthless parents, Larissa and yourself were determined to make sure Amara got the care she needed so she could thrive. When the diagnosis came back true, she cried and cried. That was when she told you she had lived with the pain for six years, her parents accusing her of attention seeking. Larissa made sure her medicine was picked up like clockwork every month personally and she had your cell numbers if she needed you anytime day or night.

There were a few times she was unable to go to class and would spend time in Larissa’s office doing make up work or homework under a heated blanket with a cup of hot cocoa. The girl thrived after she was given the help she needed. Her grades improved and she graduated in the top of her class, that was two years ago now. She stayed at nevermore as a dark arts teacher, and when she got married to a lovely gorgon boy a few months ago, her own parents decided they wouldn’t be attending. She didn’t mind though, because she walked down the aisle with pride having both of you on her arms guiding her and giving her away. This is what love was. This was acceptance. She was so worried that she would have a flair the day of the celebration and wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, you remember it like it was yesterday. Kneeling down to her eyes where she sat, you spoke softly.

“Your disability doesn’t define you, anyone who thinks it does can go to hell. You are strong and just as able as any other girl, your mum and I will be there with you and will hold you up if we need to, just like we did when you walked the stage at your graduation. You will never be alone my love, you have us to lean on when your own feet can’t hold you up.”

*********

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[aredeemantagonist]

Wait, a pinned post?? In this economy??

Hi! I’m William/Antagonist/Jack, a certified crazy person silly goober.

I also go by Kris or Mercutio, and I'm fine with nicknames ^^ (except for Tio, you can only call me that if we're close)

Artist page (Basic info) ->-> Meet the Artist!

My lovely boyfriend is @thund3randrain <3

Head over heels for my QPP @the-fallen-collective <3

I am unwell over many many things such as FNAF, BSD, Laceygames and unfortunately many many more

Currently hyperfixating on: FNAF + Afton Family Lore (specifically william afton) The Amazing Digital Circus BSD Bendy and The Dark Revival + Bendy and The Ink Machine (red is the biggest hyperfixations currently)

He/It/Void/Gore/Confetti/Pop/Doll/Lace. No They/Them or She/Her please!!

18+ users can interact and DM as long as you aren’t icky and comfy with the fact that i am a minor :3

DNIs: - Bad people in general - General DNIs (homophobes, transphobes, misogyonists, etc etc) - Radqueers - Pro-contact - Zoophiles, Pedophiles, etc etc - [Pro] Endogenic systems - Anti-recovery blogs (for EDs, S/H, anything) - NSFW + smut blogs - MDNI blogs - Anti-alterhumanity

for our system blog see @a-void-of-a-system , there’s a personal blog list there. mostly the host (kris) will be posting here!!

I try to use tonetags, also please use tonetags with me!! It helps a lot :3

Please ask before touch!!

I mod too many RP blogs to count- I'll make a masterlist one day.

Interests -

FNAF + Afton Family

Super Mario Bros. (Basically every mario thing ever)

Bungou Stray Dogs

Laceygames

Classical literature

Drawing (i do take requests!! might be a bit slow though-)

Writing (both fanficition and original stories!!)

Saiki K

Assassination Classroom

common tags used on this blog:

#antagonist reblogs - i reblog random shit!! won’t always remember to tag though T^T

#antagonist rambles - my incessant yapping!!

#antagonist shitposts - i shitpost lol

#antagonist stims - self explanatory

#antagonist doodles - my drawings!!

#antagonist wrote something - my fics!!

#antagonist yaps with friends - me chats with my friends!!

#antagonist used a braincell - my thoughts. could be anything from shitposts to philosophy to maths!!

#antagonist vents - my vents, always check and block the tags pls!!

#antagonist is tired. - i am so so tired.

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#antagonist is william afton - william afton posting

#man i love michael afton - michael afton posting

#my love <3 - i ramble about my beautiful wonderful boyfriend

#meri jaan <3 - i ramble about my fantastic beautiful partner

#antagonist roleplays - me just being a silly little guy with RP blogs on my main ^^

#antagonist raises the sun - i say good morning !

#antagonist travels to eep land - i say good night !

uhm i think that’s it!! just be patient with me if i’m taking time to answer asks or requests, i get overwhelmed easily, and don’t take it personally ^^

dividers by @/sweetmelodygraphics !!

all my moots ily and everyone else have a great time in my little corner of insanity!!

[dw-writes]

Once Bitten, Twice Angry - Miguel O'Hara x Anti Hero!Reader

So. This isnt planned to be a fic - in fact Im writing it on my phone (which is something I NEVER do). But the idea came to me today and its itching the inside of my skull so I decided to write it down. Its silly - just an thought experiment to get the Across the Spiderverse brain worms out.

This isnt intended to be a romantic fic, either. At the point of writing this author blurb, i dont even know how Miguel fits into it beyond the main idea of him being venomous.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think

This isnt edited, and was typed out pretty quickly on a phone. I apologize ;;

WARNINGS: Swearing; Violence

"I bet you're wondering what I'm doing here." The bank robber - his name was Ryan, you remembered, and he was a pretty decent guy, just down on his luck too many times - nodded and mumbled behind the collect of irridecent that coated his mouth. You propped your foot on the side of another robber - Julian, Julius, Juli-something, he never really talked that much to you - as he tried to squirm towards his fallen weapon. "It's weird, right?" you mused, "One day, I'm the Black Cat, Nueva York's greatest burglar, the next I'm--" you cut yourself off as you hooked a foot around Juli-such-and-such's hip and tossed him across the bank floor. He released a muffled shout.

"Okay, so, what do you think of Moon Weaver?" you asked, "Too much?"

"Ain't there a Moon Knight?" someone in the bank quipped.

You twisted around, snapping your fingers down on your new, and very much stolen, web shooter. The man crumbled back against a cabinet. He was a banker, and annoying during robberies.

"I didn't ask you? I still don't know if you're gonna be saved by me yet," you replied. You turned back to Ryan. "No Moon Weaver?" you asked.

He shook his head.

"Damn," you sighed, "Anyway, I was telling this to my therapist up on the seventh floor - you should see her by the way, she's great - and we were going over how this started, but since you so rudely interrupted my therapy session, you get to hear it." You crouched in front of him. "Don't worry, you're not gonna remember a thing anyway. I'll make sure of it."

Ryan didn't reply.

You stood back up. "So, let's start at the beginning." You waved your hand as you paced away to another bank robber, kneeling to scoop up his limp ankle. "Remember that heist I was doing a few months ago? Priceless heirloom, lots of money, you know how it is. I was on the job, like normal, when that fucking Spiderman shows up." You dropped the man's ankle and crouched in front of Ryan again. "Have you ever seen him without his mask? He's kinda hot, but in that infuriating "I really wanna punch you" kinda way?"

Ryan merely stared at you. He wasn't a very good audience.

You huffed. "Anyway. He showed up, we did the whole song and dance - the chase, the quips, the obvious flirting with a good layer of sexual tension - and I give him the slip." You frowned at your own memory of that night, planting your fists on your hips. "Except, I didn't. He caught me around the corner, and we went down, grappling. I think I hit him a little too hard in a place that I shouldn't've - that's rude in a fight, you know - because he yelled and suddenly bit my shoulder." You turned back around. "He bit me! Like a four year old!"

You thought Ryan mumbled something that sounded like, "Seriously?" but it was too hard to make out.

So, you replied with, "Yeah! And I went home, and I started feeling weird." Then, you crouched again, your fingers dancing over your knees. "And you know how we all kinda know that he's a weird little freak that's, like, part spider, or werewolf, or vampire, or something freaky? Yeah, I think whatever it is gave me powers," you whispered.

Ryan's eyes went wide.

You shrugged and stood, cupping your fingers around his head. "Yeah, it was weird. And now, here we are!" Your fingers tickled as a surge of electricity arched away from them and through his skull. "Not that you'll remember it," you mumbled.

The robber thrashed as you stepped away, then slumped to the ground. You watch him for a moment, frowning, waiting to make sure he was still breathing. When he groaned, you stepped back.

Then, you snapped your fingers, turning around to face the whole group of thieves you had piled in a corner. "Oh, what about Night Spider? That's pretty cool!" you asked.

"It's pretty," came a delayed reply. You looked over your shoulder. It was a customer, one of the few that was still curled up on the floor.

You smiled, and bowed at the waist. "Why thank you," you preened, standing, and waving your arm towards the door, "What're you all still waiting around here for? Get outta here!" You watched as the customers scrambled to their feet. "And tell the cops it was Night Spider that helped you!" You backed away, eyeing an exit you normally took to escape a bank with a similar layout. "Not Spiderman."

You bolted as the cops rushed into the building.

Miguel watched from atop the roof across the street, an annoyed scowl etched deep into his face. He knew he shouldn't have bitten you that night - but how could he have known you'd have such a reaction?!

And now, you went from being a pain in his side to a fucking problem.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, swearing under his breath.

Lyla would never let him live it down.

[fountainpenguin]

"If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?" (x)

New Fairly OddParents 'fic today!

Frayed Knots - Chapter 37

"Greater Odds"

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

☁️ Cloudlands AU

✨ More Fairly OddParents 'fics

In which Anti-Cosmo struggles with right and wrong, submits his godparenting application, helps his fiancée crossdress, and forms a closer bond with Wanda Fairywinkle.

Also, if you didn't catch Chapter 36 - "House of Cards" - when I posted the new Frayed Knots cover on Friday the 13th, don't forget to read that first!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Greater Odds

Splitting with Anti-Lance ached so deep in my chest, I thought I’d fall to tiny pieces, my arms and legs strewn like confetti shreds across the floor. For a week, I pushed through campus life with a gritted smile damn well plastered on my face. I held composure as best I could in Mona’s company, knowing she looked to me for support in this time of separation, but Blonda was a different story. With the start of the semester came the return of our study sessions - and the absence of her judgmental sister - and after a bit of prodding on Blonda’s part, I finally cracked.

“He- he showed me through sacred ceremony how much he cared, that he loved and cherished me, that he desired my happiness… a-and when I offered to pleasure him in return, he dropped me…”

“I’m so sorry,” Blonda told me. She never touched me without permission - didn’t try to take my hand or force a hug - and she never asked that I shut up. She didn’t make any side comments like “Anti-Fairy culture is so incomprehensible” either, which I appreciated more than I really expressed at the time. I quieted on my own eventually, but keeping my mind on our early-semester studies was more difficult than I would’ve liked. My dripping nose and soppy eyes kept getting in the way. Ugh.

“Don’t tell Anti-Saffron,” I begged Blonda, clutching her shirt before she reached the door on our way out. “She’ll consider me a total loser!”

Blonda raised her brows so high, I half expected her to reply, “And this would be news to her HOW?” But… she didn’t. So I liked Blonda quite a bit.

Carl Poofypants High didn’t have a second room with an array for Anti-Fairies to roost from. I went back and forth about this with the faculty several times, with them pulling all sorts of excuses as to why they couldn’t prepare another room in a timely fashion. Bundling close with arms and wings wrapped around each other kept Mona and I from succumbing to gangrene (Again), but living outside wasn’t practical- I found myself anti-poofing back and forth between our tree and the Fairywinkle twins’ room to store my homework or pick it up again. Both Wanda and I were salty about it. And while my rank as stepson of the High Count technically granted me allotted funds and my own private accountant… I had a little too much pride to beg the off-campus housing options to give a pair of young Anti-Fairies a chance. No. I had a different plan in mind.

When out first semester vacation hit, Mona and I travelled to the Anti-Bentleaf colony to tell her mums. Anti-Penny and Anti-Dixie gushed over her, with the latter sobbing about how big her little cowgirl had grown. They peppered me about the same.

Maybe, I thought, taking every cheek kiss with due regality, marrying a dame I’ve fallen out of love with won’t be as rough as I feared. After all, my in-laws adored me. I’d even done 1 on 1 training with Anti-Penny back in the day, studying architecture, art history, and practising my demon summoning. I couldn’t walk away from all that.

We spent two nights with her family, then continued on our way to the Blue Castle. Anti-Buster opened the entry door while we floated through. He congratulated me, though I could tell from the stern line across his forehead that he still held out hope I’d break things off with Mona and attempt to repair the knots in my karmic weave. Yes, well… It just wasn’t fated that way. Or maybe I just didn’t want to. I smiled back at him and said nothing. His eyes narrowed. Then he swept off. “Perfectly peculiar,” Mona said.

“Yes, indeed. Seeing as he engaged me in play and learning far more than Anti-Bryndin did - or my mother, for that matter - I was looking forward to his response. I’d like him to stand with me on our wedding day.” Anti-Robin certainly doesn’t deserve to.

“Not that,” she said. When I blinked and turned, she lowered her voice, pulling her amauti hood even tighter around her ears. “He’s without red regality.”

“… The cloak.” I whipped my head down the empty corridor, then back to Mona. “I wondered why the field sounded so tense. Do you think he’s stepped down as First General?”

Not for his daughters. He won’t even acknowledge they’re his in public. How is Anti-Wanda handling this? Is she all right? She’d worked alongside her father ever since joining the camarilla. I should talk to her.

My core began to beat, dragging at Cosmo’s conscious mind until I felt him turn and either chew his shoulder or the back of his leg. Hold the crystal ball… I had misgivings about pulling strings for Anti-Buster’s death in spite of Mother’s pushing… but I think I could send a stranger to their next incarnation without batting an eye.

My brains were meant for so much more than clawing at the walls… and I deserved so much better than being scoffed at by a Fairy school for following Anti-Fairy custom and leaving Anti-Lance’s colony when it no longer fit my needs. I could’ve been an architect, you know. I very nearly was. Why, with my exam scores - minus the ones unfairly discriminating against me for being an Anti-Fairy - Carl Poofypants’ administration should be tripping over themselves to secure me a new room with my very own array! They ought to beg that I stay enrolled. They weren’t the only Fairy World high school around- I was hardly bound to their rules and regulations. Certainly not if they couldn’t give me or my culture the time of day.

On parchment, the dancing thoughts I so boldly entertained were still treasonous and cruel, but they were a mite less treason than they could be. Taking out a man I didn’t know sounded much more palpable to my sensitivities than killing the one who’d raised me. Not to mention, the little I knew of Big Daddy Fairywinkle - Anti-Buster’s counterpart - had not precisely assured me I wouldn’t meet resistance if I crept into his house, even with all the demon-summoner knowledge I possessed.

And then I shan’t be dooming Wanda, Blonda, Anti-Wanda, and Anti-Wendy to life without their fathers. Yes. Yes, I was quite sure I could kill another drake if it meant sparing Anti-Buster from the cruel, simmering plots of my mum.

📖 Read on FFN || Read on AO3

[girlactionfigure]

🟣FALLEN HEROS, CEASEFIRE CIRCULAR TALKS - Real time from Israel  

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

▪️6 HERO SOLDIERS HAVE FALLEN.. in battle in Lebanon:

Itay Marcovich, 22, from Kochav Yair

Dror Hen, 20, from Gan Haim

Nir Gofer, 20, from Dimona

Yoav Daniel, 19, from Nahariya

Sraya Elbow, 21, from Mehola

Shalev Itzhak Sharon, 21, from Sderot

May their families be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may G-d avenge their blood!  

🔪TERROR - RAMMING - Deir Kadis checkpoint.. the terrorist escaped, the update is they were caught.  IDF forces sieged the village with police and Shin Bet, terrorist captured.  The soldiers, the IDF is particular to note they were women, were lightly injured.

▪️PRIVATE MEDICAL SCHOOL TO OPEN.. The Higher Education Council approved the opening of a medical school at Reichman University. The studies will start in February with 80 students who will pay a tuition fee of NIS 98,000 ($26,500) per year.  While significantly cheaper than U.S. costs, with an average $70,000 per year for private medical school, by Israeli standards that is 6.5x the yearly cost of a public university degree, and 3x the yearly cost of a private university degree.  However, Israel is not generating enough doctors to keep up with local needs - and many of Israeli doctors are educated overseas.

▪️ERITREAN RIOTERS IN SOUTH TEL AVIV.. had their bail paid by Eritrea IF they were supporters of the current regime.  None were deported, and they pay taxes on their Israeli wages to the Eritrean government.  YNET: Eritrea is known for a repressive regime. Eritreans in Israel are not defined as refugees, they are not returned due to the "non-refoulement", fear of serious damage to their rights or lives in their homeland. Instead of refugee status, they are given temporary permits that extend their stay in Israel but without permanent residency rights. However, when it comes to regime supporters, no one can answer why they have not been deported back to their country so far - certainly when they violently attack the asylum seekers whose lives are in real danger.

♦️IDF: evening attack on bridges in Syria "passage routes used by Hezbollah to transfer weapons from Syria to Lebanon”.

♦️GAZA - IDF demolishes dozens of buildings used as attack platforms in Jabaliya with 4 tons of explosives.

♦️LEBANON - IDF issues evacuation notices for buildings in Beirut, attacks 1 hour later.  Widespread attacks in progress.

♦️LEBANON - IDF attacked Hezbollah’s naval base - destroyed.

♦️SAMARIA - TULKARM - IDF forces closed in on a building with 2 terror commanders, eliminated.

.. SHECHEM, TAMON, SILAT al-HARITHIA - IDF forces arrested 3, had several firefights.

♦️US DESTROYS BOX TRUCK IN YEMEN?  US military published a short video clip (not shown here) of a strike on a box truck of the Houthis in Yemen. What makes this interesting - - the top of the truck pops off an exposes a missile launcher that raises out of the truck.  “Just a bread truck by day, terror missile launcher by night.”

🔹Lebanese Druze - residents of the Druze village of Rashia in Lebanon set up a roadblock.  During an inspection of a commercial vehicle, an anti-tank missile and other military equipment destined for Hezbollah were seized. Druze message the Shiites to act only in their villages and not to make the IDF attack the villages where there are no Hezbollah members.

🔸CEASEFIRE NEWS.. The Lebanese refer to the talks that Israel is having with the US: "They are having conversations among themselves and Lebanon is not a party to the matter at all.”