#because now he thinks you're the epitome of evil

[not-having-an-eldritch-blast]

Hear me out, there is absolutely a Bill Cipher to Elias Bouchard pipeline

[fandomwritingbit]

Too good to be true

william afton x (fem) police reader

synopsis: A two part series about William destroying your life.

It's your first homicide case as a detective, a young child murdered with no tangible leads and you're eager to bring the evil bastard to justice. It's a lot of pressure though, and to much weight on your shoulders leads to questionable decision making.

warnings: child murder, smut, swearing, drinking, domestic arguing/marital problems. just generally mature themes.

A/n: As always this isn't steeped in fnaf lore, just purely from my silly little brain. I'm so glad to finally have this out and be back on here to obsess over men. Hope you like it Xx

“It’s okay, take your time.”

The social worker smiled kindly, hoping that the pleasant expression would hide how her heart was breaking at the words leaving this child’s mouth. It’s harrowing to hear, the topic of death should never be exposed to kids this young, at least not in the cruel fashion it had been mere hours ago. “We can take a break if you want, get a snack?” 

The little lad shakes his head, at only seven years old he knows it’s better to get the story over with. Never before had so many adults been so interested in what he has to say, this is serious. Even if he doesn’t understand what happened, he does understand the finality of it. The scary, definitive nature of what’s happened. He’ll never see his friend again. “Can I have some juice?” The boy asks quietly, his voice the epitome of innocence. It makes the social worker’s eyes sting. The lead officer smiles wryly. 

“Sure you can, Josh. Shall I go?” The lady switches her attention from the child to the pair of cops sitting across from them. 

“No, I’ll go.” You interject, not wanting you and your superior left alone with the weight of this child’s emotions. He hasn’t cried, but you can see the tears brimming beneath his surface. You look Josh in the face and try to speak as kindly as his companion, “Do you like orange?”

He just nods. 

…

The room was heavy in silence during your brief absence, you were only gone a couple of minutes, the vast majority of the time spent in thought over the canteen sink. You were promoted to detective only a year ago and so far the cases you’ve been assigned were of little intensity, drunken brawling, verbal domestics, thefts and robberies. And now a child was dead, murdered, and it has utterly devastated the community. But as upsetting as it is, this is an opportunity for career growth, even if you already feel out of your depth. 

The crime scene was brutal, the child laid in the outside storage of a restaurant, face down, multiple stab wounds. Blood smeared on the ground that your splatter analyst said horrifyingly suggests that the child dragged themselves closer to the door, only stopping when they no longer had the strength to continue. No murder weapon. There are no obvious suspects, every man and his dog within a 2 mile radius was pulled in for questioning. But the lack of witnesses and the hole in the chain fence leading to the area was a hindrance. The only lead you have is Josh because, unfortunately, he found the body. 

You bring the child his drink, handing it to him before sitting down next to the lead officer, mentally steeling yourself for questioning.

“So, Josh.” Your colleague begins, talking to children doesn’t come naturally to him, but you see him trying. “I asked you, what time did you last see the vict- Mary?” He corrects himself, but all three of you know what he was going to say. 

 “I’m not sure.” He answers in a tiny voice. 

He goes to ask again, sitting forward, but you stop him, cutting in to ask the boy in a different way. “I know you all sang happy birthday to the birthday boy at around half twelve. Did Mary get a slice of cake?” The social worker puts her hand on the little lad’s shoulder, whilst he thinks. 

After a moment, he says, “No. Auntie Carol asked if she wanted one but she wasn’t there.” 

“Okay, thank you.” You smile, before turning to the other officer, talking quietly, “Coroner said T.O.D was between 12:00 and 13:00.” 

He agrees, “So it’s looking closer to twelve.” 

~

There was a group of people waiting outside to be questioned, parents, staff, everyone who may have a shred of information and your precinct was struggling to manage it. The deceased’s parents have already been spoken to and ruled out, and so, in the main interview room another detective set about tackling the restaurant’s staff. 

“Mr Afton, we just have a few more questions to go over.” The middle-aged policeman lifts his gaze from his documents to look at the restaurant owner over the top of his glasses. He sees the businessman nod in response. There’s nothing to implicate this fella, no motive, no evidence, but he has a previous so caution was to be taken. 

With the question ready on his tongue, the officer sits back in the chair. “How often do people go out to the outside storage?”

He meets the man’s eyes, it’s not the first time he’s been under police scrutiny, probably won’t be the last, but the gravity of this investigation is severe. Not wanting to play any games he just divulges what the cop wants to know. “Frequently, we keep ingredients out there, and other supplies, people are always in and out.” 

“Even though it’s a fire escape?” There’s doubt in his face. 

William Afton reveals a small smile then, he can’t quite figure out what the copper is getting at, “Yeah, there’s a cinder block out there to keep it open. I disconnected the alarm a long time ago.”  

The policeman writes that down, it may go over the interviewee’s head but it’s an important question. The killer had to access the area somehow. And either they knew of the fire door and its cinder block or the gap in the fence. A crime of opportunity, from someone who knows the area well, that’s the takeaway. 

Looking up from the sheet, the DI asks another question, “And I understand that you and your partner are more handsoff with the day to day, but were you there at the party?”

“I oversaw arrival and seating.” Afton halts but the detective says nothing, it’s clearly unsatisfactory. “... There were two more kids than discussed, it caused some tension. I left Henry to deal with things.” He elaborates dryly, the tone indicates boredom but that’s to be expected after having waited hours for this conversation. 

“Tension?” The officer asks curiously, his eyebrows raised in a most provoking way.

William remembers to keep himself professional, maybe he could have worded that better. He tries again, “Well, it wasn’t ideal. Waiters had to set extra places and find more chairs. It was a fuss.” 

That seems to resonate better with the detective because he nods, some understanding written in his expression, Afton has to stifle the satisfaction that gives him. 

The copper consults his papers again before deciding he’s gotten enough, he stands, taking his glasses off and letting them hang on the chain around his neck. “Right, I’ll let you get back home. We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch.” 

With a tight-lipped smile, William follows suit, pushing the chair back and standing. An old impulse to stick his hands out for the cuffs being greatly fought, it was a different time, different station, different crime, but the same old William.

He shakes the detective’s hand, the standing difference of the two is almost comical but neither of them show any signs of amusement. He’s led out the cold interrogation room into the life of the precinct corridor, there’s a lot going on, a mix of uniformed and non officers and some of his staff still awaiting questioning. 

But before the policeman can get away, William let’s some curiosity free of its constraints. “Have you spoken to Henry yet?” The man meets his eyes, no longer as stoic as he was during the interview, the burden of inquisition must be a heavy one. 

“No. I’ll be handling staff enquiries. Your partner should be in later on. 4 o’clock I think.” William nods, and the officer now no longer concerned with him, heads off down the hallway. He should do the same, he’ll have to sign out, he remembers that from last time too. 

As he’s walking back towards reception, a door opens in front of him, a flash of cream walls and a green sofa, before a woman exists holding the hand of a small child that he recognises. He stands aside to let them pass, watching a male officer leave, followed by a female one: you. 

You hear the social worker's voice grow quieter as they leave you to lock the door, your keys jangling as you turn the stiff lock. Your mind is so engrossed in theories, you’re wanting to talk to DI Donnelly about the staff profiling and see if anything has come up in the way of a suspect. You’re so engrossed that you don’t think to look behind you before moving. 

The very moment you step out you collide with the hardness of a human body much bigger than yours. You stumble from the surprise of it, and large hands catch your waist to stop you tripping. It’s a very intimate way to touch someone and you gasp from the suddenness.

“Ay watch it, lady cop.” The bloke says, when you turn to see who you’ve just accosted, you see an older man with perhaps the most handsome crooked grin you’ve ever seen. 

Choosing to ignore the casual sexism of that you go for a, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

Cos you weren’t looking, he thinks to himself but doesn’t say anything aloud, you do look sorry and you’re cute. For a rozzer.  

“You’re alright.” He excuses you, raising his eyebrows. 

The only other thing exchanged was a mutual nod of regard before the man walked away towards the exit, leaving you to wonder what role he must play in all of this. 

~

William drives home without the radio, lost in a deep track of convoluted thought. He’ll reach out to Henry later, see if anything’s changed. He doesn't think it will, despite the taskforce on this case he thinks it’ll go cold pretty fast. Children capture the news interest every now and then but once the media has no evidence or case progress to get its hooks into, the case is dead in the water. Unless the parents have the money to keep pushing it.

He pulls outside his house, turning the engine off but not leaving immediately. He’s about to step into the circus here, no doubt his wife has been waiting in bated breath, anxious for any news. He sighs, he probably should have drove around a bit longer knowing she was holding her breath, maybe he’d have got lucky. 

He drags his feet on the mat before stepping inside, he hasn’t been outside today but it’s force of habit at this point, then he chucks his jacket towards the hook and closes the door. Sighing again, he sits on the second step to take his shoes off, already on edge at how quiet this fucking house is. She emerges as he reaches for the other shoe, arms folded over her chest like she’s already disapproving of something. 

“So? What happened?” Clara’s tone is brisk and strained thin. It sounds like she’s been crying, though he can’t imagine why when it’s him that has to face the bobbies. 

He scoffs, “They asked me some questions.” Everything about him is closed right now, and if she knew him at all she’d leave it for a while. 

“And?” She’s pissing him off, she’s too prickly to talk to like this. She’s worried, wants to know what’s going to happen, what is happening, but it’s not his responsibility to console her like some fretful little kid. 

“I answered them.” She scowls, how can he be like this, so indifferent? Like nothing’s happening, making her feel like she’s overreacting or going mad, maybe both. 

“For fuck’s sake, Will.” Her voice cracks with frustration and she pauses a second to regain herself. Immediately losing it once she begins speaking, “Do they know who did it? Do they have someone in custody? Will, when are they going to take the fucking body out of your restaurant?!”

He laughs a little then and stands from the stairs, “Why would I know that? The police will be taking care of that, or the coroners, I don’t fucking know.”

“Don’t know, or don’t care?” There’s tears streaming down his wife’s face and he can’t cope. 

“Does it matter?” He looks particularly harsh right now, a sharpness in his gaze and tone that’s like a razor and again her face twists in disgust. 

William rubs the bridge of his nose, allowing his eyes to close for a moment of respite from the headache only Clara can claw out of him. With a deep breath he bends down and picks up his shoes, moving then to pick up his coat from the floor where it landed. He’s not staying, not with her wound tight as a wire-trap and not in a good way. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet now, trying her hand at reasoning. He’s past that though. 

“Going out, I can’t deal with you now.” He doesn’t even put the shoes back on, just carries them out with him, shutting the door heavily behind him. Leaving her to her. 

~

It’s about to hit 8pm before you leave the station, it's been a long day but you hardly noticed what with how busy you’ve been. Your questioning didn't end with Josh, and even after talking to four other witnesses, you had your paperwork to do, then discussion with your colleagues. Everyone on the case has their own theories but at this point that’s all they are: theories. Nothing concrete and no real inclination into what to press next.

You change before leaving, knowing that you’re too restless to just go home, you need to be alone with your thoughts over a cold drink. So you get in your car picturing the hotel only a few minutes from your flat, the business-y one with the nice bar and the clientele that will leave you alone. That’s your ticket for that cold drink. 

Music plays as you drive there, a CD you’ve made compiling your favourite tunes, it should help take your mind off the horrors you’ve seen today but it doesn’t. You can pull yourself away from the crime scene, that poor child in the centre of it, nor the distant look in young Josh’s eyes. No matter how much you enjoy the song playing, it's just not enough to distract you. 

You park easy enough, a weekday night means that the car park isn’t completely full so you manage to get close to the entrance. Which you’re glad of when the moment your car door opens specks of rain tap your skin. Looks like the weather’s about as miserable as you feel. 

The hotel bar is all dark furniture and yellow lights, a soft, warm and dark oasis and you feel relief to step inside. It’s a swish bar, not the kind of place to get a pint, even if that’s what you’re craving, it’s a nice glass with a hefty price bar. And so as you approach the bartender you’re thinking of what you want.

There’s only a few stools at the bar, seven or eight at a glance, and they’re mostly full. A gap between two gentlemen both very focused on their drinks, but you don’t want to get chatted up right now, especially from either side. At the otherside there’s two empty ones but one has a jacket laid over it and a drink on the counter. But needs must. 

You sit, taking your coat off and laying it over your legs, smiling politely at the bartender. 

…

“There you are.” The barman reappears in front of you, setting your drink down on the counter, “That’ll be £3.30, please.” 

You scoff a little at that, mentally complaining about how the world’s gone mad with these prices, but you obediently reach into your bag for your wallet, a five pound note soon between your fingers. 

“Thank you.” Your hand is raised for your change, you’ll tip later, at this point you don’t know how many drinks you’ll be having. 

As the barman is digging around the till for your change the occupier of the seat beside you returns, neglecting to pick up his jacket in favour of sitting on it. You blank the man, receiving your change with a “Cheers,” for the bloke. 

You sip the drink through the little straw, it’s nice to be fair and just what you need after today. You’re ready to forget about it, but you’re becoming increasingly aware of the figure next to you looking at you, and any kind of scrutiny is too much right now. So you turn to it, and you recognise the man immediately. 

The man you’d bumped into earlier, who you’d since found out a lot about from his interviewer.

“Well, if it isn’t the lady copper. What are the chances of that?” There’s a casualness to his tone and posture that suggests he’s perhaps nearing the point of one drink too many. That’s what prevents your usual curt response of ‘just copper is fine’.

You don't smile, don't show any signs of the polite mannerisms he’d expect, just look at him objectively and he can tell you’re analysing the shit out of him. “Oh I remember you.” You start plainly, wanting to get back to the solitude you came here for. “By which I mean, I have since found out who you are.” It’s designed to be standoffish, encourage him to keep to himself, and play to what you learned about the man from his record: he shouldn’t like the police. 

It doesn’t work though, the glasses of whiskey he's had tonight make the very blunt and sober way you’re talking to him more than amusing. And it shows on his face, “Ah someone’s been through some files.” The ways he’s grinning irks you, but if this was any other day in any other place you’d be swivelling yourself around to talk properly to the attractive man beside you. “Bumped into me and had to find out more, I get it.” 

Your expression remains stern, he must be drunk as a lord or at least confident as one to say that. “I recognised your… photograph; the man who walked into me and called me ‘lady cop’.” He owns the restaurant the victim was murdered in, he’s a key figure in this case, you shouldn’t really be talking to him at all, let alone in a bar. But your drink was expensive and you’re not going to fucking leave it. “William Afton.” You say his name offhandedly, no feeling on it, but he still likes how pretty it sounds off your tongue. 

“You can say mugshot, darling, I’m aware I have one.” He snickers at the look on your face, you were trying to preserve him some dignity in your wording, so much for that. The bloke sticks out his hand for you, “Just William will do it.” 

You take his hand before your mind can overcome your manners, introducing yourself as, “DC L/n.” He has a firm handshake, much more respectable than the bitten down nails on his larger than most hands. Then again, he’s a larger than most fella, sat next to you now his feet are completely rested on the floor, whereas yours are tucked neatly on the bar of the stool. 

He chuckles at the formality, fucking Detective Constable, you really aren’t budging off your high horse, are you? Normally he’d give up on someone being this clearly closed off with him, but not tonight. He’s starved of the chatter and drink has alway made him want to make new friends, especially when they're as cute and grumpy as you. You need cheering up, and he needs the challenge.

“We’re not at the station now, love. What’s your name?” He watches the frown on your face grow that little bit stronger and has to hide the smirk on his face behind the rim of his drink. 

“It’s definitely not ‘love’.” Your voice is firm and you let the silence that follows it sit for a few seconds. But then you consider who you’re doing this for. It’s not yourself, you don’t want to be rude to anyone, let alone a tipsy person who probably doesn't know how annoying he’s being. You’re not doing it for work, there’s no boss here to remind you of your conduct, there’s been no suggestion of his involvement, even with the previous convictions. So why not take your mind off things with some meaningless conversation?

You sigh, then tell him your first name.  

“So… is this your regular?” You ask the cliche question in some effort to force yourself into normality, thinking about any other way to ask him if he comes here often, hoping he won't catch on to how his answer might impact if you come back here again. 

His eyes narrow at the change in your manner, but he goes along with it, “No. No, I’m just taking a break from domestic bliss.” The words are sarcastic enough that you gather their meaning easily, unhappy at home, coming out to get away from it, it’s fair enough. You nod, mentally clocking the silver band on his left hand and chiding yourself instantly. That’s not the kind of distraction you came here for. 

“And what has you here?” He can take a guess, a long, bloody day at work, sufficient to make most people thirsty, but curiosity nips at him, he wants to know how senior you are, what your role in the whole shitshow is. More than that he wants to know what’s come of the police’s incessant questioning, and what ammo they have.

An incredulous laugh leaves you, “Just the joy of work, you know. A lot of difficult things to think about- I already know I’ll never sleep tonight.” You’re only half joking, even with a few more g&ts you don’t see yourself getting any rest. 

You sip your drink, realising all of a sudden that you’re not far from needing another. And as you pull the glass away the man beside you says, “Oh, I could help you with that.” 

Turning to him straight away, you’re practically scowling. What a thing to fucking say. 

At your disdainful expression he adds, through a wicked smirk, “Night nurse- you know the little bottle? That usually sorts me out.” All his suggestiveness dropped, and now you look silly for overreacting. 

“Aren’t you funny.” Despite the palpable sarcasm on the words you are smiling, just a little, you can’t help it, your facade draining faster than your gin. You swirl the liquid around, thinking over your words before you say them, you know better than the harmlessness of this, even if you wish you didn’t. “You’re being awfully chummy with me and I’m not sure why. I can’t and won’t tell you about the case.” 

You try to hold back the sharp edge of those words but even said nicely they’re cutting. 

It doesn't faze him though, and he leans a little closer like he’s jokingly telling you a secret. “I’m half-cut, lovely. I’d be chummy with anyone sat here, especially if they need cheering up as much as you do.”

You let your expression soften a bit, there’s a relief from what he said that there shouldn’t be. “Based on your file, I’d have thought you’d sooner switch seats than sit next to me.” You smirk as you speak, teasing but it’s based in truth. 

“Oh calm down.” He’s shaking his head at you, “I’ve nowt against the police, it’s only a job. Until today I hadn’t seen the inside of a police station for going on 20 years. It sounds like you’re the one with prejudices.” He’s openly mocking you now, and you can see why, but he can say what he likes, it doesn’t change what you read. 

The officer’s scrawl was plain to see: ‘Fucking filth’ he said to PC Markham, right before headbutting him, adding assault of an officer to his other charges. 

“You don’t think people can change then?” He asks, more seriously than anything else he’s said tonight. 

You think about it, going over both sides of the argument in your head whilst he waits expectantly. You arrive at, “I think… If they want it enough, then yeah.”  

He shrugs then, back to wearing a striking grin, “Well, don’t worry then. I’m good at getting what I want.”

Yeah, I’ll bet you are, you think, trying to hide the thought from your face. Opting to only say, “You’re insufferable.” under your breath.

“No, just drunk. I think I need a water.” There’s a new self-deprecation to his tone and it amuses you. WIlliam glances at your empty glass and already knows you’ll be having another. He likes this back and forth, it’s good fun, much more entertaining than the chat he’d be having at home right now. 

He leans forward a bit to catch the bartender's attention, “Will you get us another one of these and a water, thanks mate.” He slides your glass forward for the man to see and he nods, going about the order. 

“Oh, you were serious.” You say, partially to yourself, it’s hard to tell with this man. That’s probably the trouble.

He sits back, “Yeah, I’ll have to keep myself sharp if you’re sitting with me, sweetheart.” 

You grin, yeah there’s the fucking trouble. 

~

You don’t know how another drink turned into three. And how three turned into you watching him get a hotel room, his elbows on the desk as he talks to the receptionist. And how that turned into keys in his pocket, the two of you getting in a lift. And then your hands pulling on his shirt to get him close enough you can kiss him, his tall frame pressing you against the wall of the lift. 

You don’t think about how stupid this is as you’re doing it, you’re too distracted by the heat of him and the all encompassing way his tongue is in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, knuckles taunt with his shirt fabric balled up in them. You’re not drunk, you know what you’re doing. The alcohol isn’t affecting your judgement, it’s only making your blood warm and helping stoke the heat flickering in your core.

He doesn’t hesitate in touching you, neither of you worried about discovery, hands on your hips soon sliding low and squeezing your arse. You gasp a little as his touch brings you to your tippy-toes. The kiss is broken and has your lips tracing down his jaw, on his neck then shamelessly sucking his earlobe. You can feel how much he likes that digging into your stomach and your body rings with want. 

His hands are under your shirt before the lift stops, doors opening to reveal a man waiting, a suitcase by his side. You push the man off you, struggling not to laugh, especially when a quick glance reveals that William is. Hot in the face, you right yourself as the man drags his case into the small space, your skirt pulled back down and shirt buttoned back up.

“Uh we’re still going up, mate.” William says, snickering. 

“Only one floor.” The man responds bluntly, clearly not wanting any interaction with the two degenerates he’s just uncovered. 

You share a look with William, that has you pressing your lips together to stifle laughter. He looks very dishevelled, you hand’t noticed quite how hard you’d been going at him, his shirt is creased and his hair is a fucking mess. God knows what you look like. 

It seems to take a long time to go up one floor, but the very second the doors open you and William are quick to leave. 

“What a nice chap.” He sniggers and you can finally laugh away some of that embarrassment, how stupid the both of you are, but nothing to be done now. The only compromise you can make now is to keep your hands to yourself until you’re in a more private setting, but that’s easier said than done when your core is tight with need. 

Following his form, you try to take mental note of how to get out of here, so many beige corridors to wind around before you’re standing in front of the room this near stranger has purchased. You watch him put the key in the lock and for just a moment you listen to your mind. It’s not a good idea, it’s unprofessional, inappropriate and a host of other things but you’re warm between your legs and the want to continue what was interrupted outweighs reason. 

He lets you inside before him and you turn to catch his eyes low on your body, making you grin unwillingly. It’s a nice room, as swanky as the bar downstairs, long flowy curtains shrouding huge windows and a load more pillows on the bed than necessary. 

William looks around the room more pragmatically, he wants another drink and there’s got to be something in here, a fancy place like this always has opportunity to spend more money. There’s an odd cabinet a good distance from the foot of the bed, and when he opens it lo and behold an incognito fridge. “You want another drink?” 

You look over to William on his knees looking at what you quickly realise is a minibar, curiosity brings you closer and the prices make you wince. You don’t know how this man has it in him to drink, you’re tipsy enough just standing there. “You trying to impress me or something?” You say laughing, “Surely the room was pricey enough.”

He shrugs and gets to his feet. A black labelled bottle placed on the counter, he can’t decide what he wants to indulge in first because you are looking very tempting.  You see a look of mischief pass over his face before he says, “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound… which you absolutely are, love.” He delivers that with the smarmiest smirk you’ve ever seen, and a disbelieving laugh escapes you, it’s needlessly full-on but embarrassingly it does work in making heat between your legs flicker back bright. 

Still somewhat taken aback you just say, “...You’re shameless.” 

It just makes him chuckle, as the evenings gone on you’ve only gotten easier to fluster. “Oh and you’re so prim and proper?” That’s clearly amused him because his tone is dripping with sarcasm. You maintain your eye contact with the man, trying to curb excitement in your blood, you’re aware he’s gotten much closer to you and the prospect is delicious. “I don’t think so, no with how you accosted me in that lift, there for anyone to see.” 

He doesn’t need to add ‘And someone did see,’ because that grimy feeling has again caught up with you, you look away then, trying not to think about how disgusted that man looked earlier. It sucks because your usual level-headedness has shagged off and you seem to be making a lot of questionable decisions. 

You’re speaking before the embarrassed thoughts are coherent, “Well, I- That’s not something I’d… normally…” You trail off because of the clear enjoyment on his face.

“Come on, are you a police officer or a fucking nun?” He teases, “Looking so ashamed. You do know what we’ve come up here to do, right?” 

The mockery gives you a hit of bravery, and you shrug, “Yeah. I’m just waiting for you to stop talking.” You give the last words heavy exasperation and watch that achingly handsome grin slowly spread on his face. 

He listens to you. 

It’s criminal how eagerly you’re pulling at his clothes, struggling with buttons as dexterity is lost in your fingers to the way your body is reacting to his. There’s little elegance, only your tongue back in his mouth as your shirt is taken off, then your body pulled away from the wall behind you to let him unhook your bra. It’s quick but you still resent how long it’s taking to get what you want. 

He’s playing with your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh before tugging your hardened nipple between his fingers, it pulls a gasp from you. You’re giggling a little as his action makes it harder to concentrate on what you’re doing. You finally manage to pull the shirt from him, leaving it to crumple on the floor. His body feels good against yours, firm and hot, hair on his chest that you rake your fingers through, leading all the way down to his belt. 

His touch is everywhere on you except where you want it most, taking in your curves and again grabbing a handful of your behind. You’re restless, rubbing your legs together for a fraction of the friction your core is demanding, all this fleeting touch is mounting into impatience. William notices and you feel the movement of his hands up to your waistband, where they skirt teasingly around. 

You moan some encouragement into his mouth, tilting your hips for better access. But he pulls away from you, smirking to himself. “Take your skirt off for me, love. I’ve tried but for the life of me I can’t find the zip.” 

Despite your impatience, you can’t help but laugh, clearly pride had kept him silent for a fair while. “Here then.” You say through your amusement, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushing him lightly, guiding him a pace and a half back until he gets the hint to sit on the bed. 

From there he watches you half dressed as far as your waist as you catch hold of the zip on the side of your pencil skirt and pull it down. You step out of it, leaving your shoes under the fabric, a smug expression on your face. He looks good sitting there and a guilty thought flickers through your head at how lucky his wife is. 

That thought is cut short when he says, “Come here.” Not giving you much choice when he catches your wrist and manoeuvres you himself, your panties still on but the wet patch on them somehow more revealing than you imagine being fully nude will be. 

“Damn.” He grins, leaving you standing before him, his hand tracing the waistband of your knickers before sliding between your legs. You let him, spreading your stance for his access. He follows the shape of your pussy over the material, watching how it clings to your heat. Soon after he slides under the fabric and toys with the abundance of slick waiting there.

You moan at the static sensation buzzing in your core, it’s exactly what you wanted but still a lot and you have to steady yourself on his shoulders. He finds your clit and begins to draw patterns over the nerves that soon have your legs weak. He brings your end into your sights before altering the movement, and the whiplash is near devastating. He snickers when a disapproving frown rests on your face, adjusting his position to press his fingers inside you, willing to give you what you want. Fucking his fingers in and out of you he keeps up with the stimulation on your clit, the pace only quickening when your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your peak rises fast and you fall over it, walls fluttering tight around his digits as your climax washes over you, pulling some desperate noise out of you. 

Before your legs are even steady again, you’re desperate for more. So you push him back on the bed, bending down to tackle his belt buckle. The bulge in his trousers is practically taunting you and you’re eager to feel more and think less. 

WIlliam’s voice pulls you from your inept action. “Demanding, aren’t we?” He mocks. 

You look at him as levelly as you can, your pupils big from your fading pleasure. You know the answer before you speak, “Do you want me to stop?” 

He doesn’t say anything, only reaches down to help you take off the belt, pulling the trousers down and holding you steady so he can lean and shove them off. You take hold of his hardness, now only hidden by his underwear, revelling in the soft grunt that leaves him. He’s deliciously thick in your hands and drunk on it you straddle him, now palming him between your legs. Only now do you think about the condoms in your handbag, knowing you should pull away from him and retrieve them. But that rationale is drowned out by your cunt drooling, begging for immediate stimulation. 

Your touch isn’t enough for him, he just wants to feel your warmth wrapped snug around him, so he acts, flicking your hands aside to free his dick. He sits against your stomach, thick and long and almost instantly you’re sliding your slick along him, pussy twitching in anticipation.

His hand on your hip moves you back so he can line himself up with your hole, no more play, no more teasing. He guides you down, a small gasp leaving you as he presses inside. It’s more than you thought and your walls burn with the stretch of taking him; you still yourself for a moment, thighs hovering just above his whilst you try to get used to the fullness of accommodating him. Your respite is cut short when he starts to thrust up into you, sniggering at the surprised moan that escapes you and how your body is almost trying to run away from him. He holds you still, lost in the perfect way your cunt is swallowing him. Soon you’re taking him properly, riding him deep with stuttering breath, pathetic noises leaving you when his cock pressed against the spot inside you that makes you crumble. You’re so focused on your imminent pleasure sparking into life sharpish, you nearly miss the change in the man below you. 

“Fuck- that’s it.” He groans, his hands roaming your body. You’re doing the majority of the work, bouncing on him so fucking perfectly and grinding your bundle of nerves against him. Your fluttering walls are telling but he’s hanging onto his edge by a thread, just enough sense about him to help speed up your climax. 

You jolt when he suddenly begins rubbing your clit, his hand splayed on your abdomen. It’s a lot and you’re holding on to him tighter and tighter, fingernails digging harder and harder into his shoulders until you’re falling into the waves of bliss. Your back arches as you come, each pulse of your climax making you shiver. Your cunt squeezes around him tight and just like that he’s gone. He thrusts into you a few more times, pushing his release deep inside you,  the pace inconsistent as he rides it out. 

Both of you still, and you listen to his quickened breath as your pussy still flutters around him, you’re all over goosebumps but you hardly notice, too focused on the warmth trickling around him and settling between your legs. 

~

You don’t stop there. You get next to no sleep, spending the rest of the night clutching the headboard, then with your face buried in the dishevelled sheets. Later with your leg hooked over the hips of this man, dirty words dripping from your lips pushing him to give you more. Hours spent having easily some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Until the two of you have no more to give. 

It’s still dark, but a look at your watch tells you the day’s not far from arriving and so, you move. Taking yourself from the disordered bed and into the cool of the room. Your clothes are strewn all over and you begin to gather them one by one, aware you’re under the scrutiny of the man you’re leaving behind. 

You’re halfway through putting them back on when William decides he should probably do the same. You watch from the corner of your eye as he stands up unashamedly naked and even after you’ve had your share you still appreciate the sight, which you then realise he was probably doing to you before getting up.  

He moves to pick up his underwear, wincing through his teeth at the action, making you turn towards him with pinched brows. You see him raise his arm up and run his hand along his shoulders, his expression difficult to read. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask with uncertainty, a part of you thinking that there’s no way he’s as sore as you are, you feel like you’ve spent hours on the bucking broncos. 

“Wait-” He sounds confused but when he turns to walk over to a mirror on the wall your eyes go wide with understanding. You’ve left your mark on him alright: long scratches on his shoulders and back, each bringing back a memory of the night’s activity. 

When he sees, his instant reaction is to laugh but fucking hell, it’s pretty bad. How the hell hadn’t he noticed? 

You have a hand over your mouth, partially in shock, partially to hide the incredulous laughter begging to be shown. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your giggling to yourself, “I didn’t-”

“That is…” He cuts you off unintentionally, chuckling in disbelief as he looks from the mirror to you, then back again, “unambiguous… What the fuck am I supposed to tell my wife?” 

You snort. “I don’t know. Shit. I didn’t think I… did that.” You hadn’t even thought about it, about how all traces of you on this man are liable to destroy a marriage, though to be fair, you’re not often a homewrecker. 

“Well, it was definitely you, sweetheart. Shit.” You’re lucky that he’s found this amusing and not gone the other way, but his marriage is dead on the rocks anyway, if Clara showed any interest in taking his shirt off he’d be looking around for a hidden camera.

…

You and William part ways soon after, part of you wanting to see him again, the rest knowing that that’s probably not a good idea. But the morning seems to be running away with itself and you don’t have time to think about it, it’s already nearly 7am and you've got to be at the station by 9. 

That doesn’t stop you from reliving the night over and over during your commute though.

As good a time as you’ve had you can’t shake the feeling that it was perhaps too good to be true.

If you made it to the end, thank you sm, you guys reading my stuff is my motivation to keep being excessively horny x

[theelmoarchive]

Sanders Sides theory (rant). I know im mainly a mh acc here but I have thoughts i need to get out there

(just fyi this theory is Roman centric, I know most TSS people nowadays are talking ab Orange and Logan so if Roman's not interesting then continue on 🔥🔥)

(Also slight TW, talking ab the sides "ducking out" and depression themes, so yeah👍👍)

Okay so. I was scrolling through Sanders Sides theories and found that no one seems to have this theory, even though I thought the Roman angst enjoyers like me would be writing this all over the place but. Ig that means I need to talk about it.

I've had this theory for years now, since the day I first watched SVS Redux.

I think Roman is going to duck out.

I dont know if I have to explain why but. I mean, just looking at the explosive end SVS Redux had will tell you a lot.

He doesn't belive Patton when he tells him they love him. He thinks Thomas has lost all faith in him in favor of the person Roman views as the epitome of evil. He's been switching views left and right to stay on Patton's side (because Thomas prides himself on his morals), but he always ends up doing something wrong - he always ends up as an antagonist. He no longer believes that he is the one thing that being has kept him stable since "Am I Original?" - Thomas' hero. The only side he has a stable and positive relationship with is VIRGIL of all people. And tbh that could quickly be ruined too. Logan is second, though, but that's EXTREMELY fragile, as we've seen.

Roman always does something wrong and it will and has sent him over the edge. From Roman's perspective, with a very flawed view of everyone around him, he is inherently the thing that flaws Thomas.

+ Roman is really dramatic obviously, so ofc he would do this.

When you look at Virgil's reasonings for ducking out, it seems plausible after everything Roman has gone through recently, too. I mean like:

"I quit. Decided it wasn't worth it anymore"

Why would Roman keep fighting a battle he knows he will never win?

"Well, It didn’t seemed like I was wanted. You all made that pretty clear any time I showed up."

Again, from Roman's perspective, he is constantly and consistently antagonized.

"If I wanted to stand around being insulted, I would've shown up I would've shown up in person like I usually do."

[same thing]

"I actually think you were right to not want me around."

Roman fears that he is becoming the villain (as we see in SVS, SVS Redux and DWIT).

(In fact, Roman has already said something quite similar to that last one in sentiment.

In SVS Redux, Roman says this, which is pretty funny because of the dramatics and the stupidity, and does get shot down quickly, but I am begging you to listen to him.

"The blame falls to me. If you're missing that do-gooder drive... I think It's because I'm in the driver seat... And I'm an awful driver... Perhaps... Perhaps I should let Patton take the wheel.")

(2nd sidenote to the Virgil quotes, can we talk ab Thomas' acting again I just love how tired Virgil is in AA. He's so. Troubled. I love him.)

WAIT ALSO I FORGOT TO ADD THIS UNTIL I WAS AB TO POST IT-

"I've always aimed to protect you,"

THIS!! First of all his face makes me so sad BUT SECOND OF ALL yeah. Roman core idk what else to say, you get it right.

"I thought I was your hero."

So yeah.

Anyway, I think the episode where Roman does this will be centered around depression. Without Roman, Thomas is depressed. Let me explain this further.

Roman is Thomas' creativity, imagination, ego, passion, love, wills and wants, hopes and dreams, aspirations and enthusiasm.

Without any of that, what is left? A guy who can't even will himself out of bed, but can still feel the nagging voice of reason and logic telling him how unreasonable he's being. A guy who cant will himself to talk to friends, family and loved ones, but can still feel sorrow for letting them down and worrying them. A guy who can't will himself to pursue creative content that he relies on for a living but can still feel anxious about letting millions of people down and never being able to create again. A guy who cant even make food for himself or brush his teeth, but still knows he NEEDS to take care of himself. A guy whose only creativity is activly trying to disturb and scare him.

So yeah thats really awesome idk.

Furthermore, I think the sides might be SEVERELY impacted.

It has been said many times over the series that the sides are purely figments of Thomas' IMAGINATION. so. Without Roman, I doubt anything would be left. Obviously, if Roman does duck out, I don’t think they'd all immediately just cease to exist because an episode still needs to occur, but I find it likely that they'd all start slowly fading or maybe even "malfunctioning", glitching, putting them on a timer to get back Roman and making it far more tense.

Is this theory weird?????? I feel like it's the natural progression TO ME but I've seen no one even getting near this and im just confused ghfhfhfh. Maybe it is kind of weird and im just too much of a Roman enthusiast. SORRY I LOVE ANNOYING WEIRDO FREAKS!!!! AND IF I WAS HIM ID DUCK OUT TOO BECAUSE NO ONE IS APPRECIATING HIM ☹️☹️☹️ EVEN THOUGH HE'S LITERALLY WHAT MAKES THOMAS DO THINGS. 🙄🙄🙄🙄

Anyway.

I also think it fits really well because of Prinxiety's parallels, such as:

(using the ship name just as a duo name because that's what I usually do I am not trying to push the prinxiety agenda although I am a fan of it ghfyfgfh)

"Thanks everyone... Well, almost everyone."

And

"I mean, it's cool to see you all trying to be helpful. Well most if you, but-"

The only difference in these two is obviously that Virgil just silently ducks out, while Roman has the entire "You make us better" speech, probably effectivly saving Virgil and Thomas, because it seems like Virgil was going to insist.

(Also another sidenote that I think everyone will agree with: WE NEED A "YOU MAKE US BETTER" SPEECH BY VIRGIL FOR ROMAN that is all)

Also. Who can forget.

Virgil saying that he tried to "duck out" and then

"That's a thing you can do?"

😐

Do you understand what I'm saying. Do you. Huh.

Okay anyway.

Idk how to end this I feel like theres still more I wanna say but i forgot. In conclusion: prin up that xiety. Reminder that FWSA was real and not a fever dream. I lied this is actually prinxiety propaganda.

But Hey That's Just A Theory. A really quite depressing and sad theory. Thanks for tumbling down a hill with me 🫶

[itsjustlux]

Screw It, Tony Baddingham Analysis

Yes, I said I wasn't going to do a Rivals essay. Yes, I totally lied.

** TW for unhealthy power dynamics and discussions of ab*se/violence/violence towards women. Honestly, the man is just a walking warning, read accordingly **

Let's talk Tony. Because I can't help but be constantly intrigued by this simultaneously devastatingly sexy and utterly rizz-less (did I use that right? Kids these days...) sad wet cat creature.

He's relatable. Understandable. Someone who's been constantly put on the outs for being "new money". As someone who's spent her whole life trying to fit into academia and traditionally wealthy spaces and failing spectacularly, I understand that. And I understand the thought process that having enough money, and enough status will finally make it go away. They can't make fun of you if you're the one in control. If you're the one calling the shots.

I see Tony as a character fundamentally motivated by deep, deep insecurity. We don't know much about his childhood (season 2 I beg), but I would put a fair amount of money on him being the sort of traditionally bullied nerdy kid. The kind that starts out well-meaning, but eventually just fucking snaps. Tony is the kind of character determined to either make those around him fall in line or pay the price. When put through this lens, he just sort of looks like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

Because, while Tony's motivations come from a reasonable place, the actions he takes are so far out of the left field he blasts himself out of sympathetic morally grey dude territory straight into the land of big bad evil guys like a member of Team Rocket. See, it's Tony's continuous feeding of his bottled-up resentment and shame that fuel his ego and general shittiness. He is capable of being a decent human being. Everyone is capable of that, I think. But he's trapped himself in a cycle of rage and isolation. The more angry he gets, the more people will leave him. The more that happens, the more isolated and ashamed he becomes. The more that happens, the more angry he gets. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

It's why we get that sort of switching on and off of different personalities. That sad, wet cat creature I mentioned in the introduction? That's who Tony really is, underneath all his schemes. When you see that, you're seeing a genuine representation of what's going on inside his head. When he's angry and cruel, that's who he really is. Everything else is an act. Charming, confident Tony? A lie. Sweet, sympathetic Tony? A lie. Any time he needs something from someone, he puts on that charismatic personality. If he needs to draw them in, to pull them in closer so he can feel better about himself, he puts on an act. (Bonus points that DT is so good at what he does that it works on the audience, too)

The irony, of course, is that if any of that behavior was genuine, he'd probably have a hell of a lot of an easier time getting what he wants.

Oh and that last scene? Isn't that just the perfect epitome of all of this? Because it's a result of him trying and failing to pull in Cameron one final time, first with that false personality, and then with who he really is. And, of course, who he is is Not Great (TM), and she knows that. So, he's screwed from the outset. And she hits him with the goddamn trophy, the physical representation of what he's achieved. Proof that he can do more, that he is more than some misfit kid. Demonstrating once and for all that no, Tony. You will never be more than what you are. What you have always been. Even while your show plays in the background, even in your giant office, none of it matters. You have lost, and you will always lose. You will lose the girl, you will lose the company, you will lose the legacy. All of it.

So, now it's time for a little customary speculation. In the event he survives (and that's reliant on like...several factors so this all might be moot), I can see a few different directions for his character. Full disclosure, I haven't read the books. So, this is purely going off of the show and what they've put forward. There are a few places we know we're going to end up. Taggie/Rupert is endgame, Tony will 'lose' again in some fashion, and Cameron/Tony is pretty obviously done. The most likely scenario is that Tony will continue to lash out, and may become an even bigger threat now that he's heartbroken. Some grand final attempt to hurt his rivals, and then some final crushing defeat. I could also see them taking the route of a more obsessive Tony. Some Kilgrave vibes towards Cameron could be horrifying, but not unexpected. It would really push the question of how much he actually cares for her versus how much he thinks he cares for her. All of this keeping in mind he's probably going to have further conflicts with his wife, who's the only one who sees the real Tony and isn't scared off by it. Whatever happens, it'll be interesting.

I'll definitely be tuning in. ;)

[baneonono]

aziracrowifying from eden by hozier: the master post

I know that everyone azirocrows from eden because duh but stay with me okay. because I think there's a cool interpretation that isn't so much about crowley longing for aza(there's still plenty of longing) it's more about crowley seeing himself and his situation in aza/aza's situation and reflecting on his fall/situation and how that is reflected in aza's. basically cool parrallels and crowley hating the system and loving aziraphale. let's go lyric by lyric shall we

Babe There's something tragic about you Something so magic about you Don't you agree?

pretty basic stuff here. I think crowley see aziraphale as uniquely moral, just the epitome of everything right and good. now crowley has magic for all intents and purposes, but aziraphale he is true magic, the strength of aza's morals is something he can barely comprehend to the extent that it becomes magical. especially in the context of heaven, a heaven that doesn't share aziraphale's moral fiber. and even in the context of that aziraphale manages to be so good. he thinks it's so magical. and he equally thinks it's tragic because aziraphale should be the standard for good, aziraphale is the only real good thing and he has to exist in heaven. and the don't you agree, in the plot of the song, I like to imagine this being the early stages of crowley appealing to aziraphale to be friends. he asks aza if they can be agreed on his assessment of aziraphale's relationship with heaven.

Babe There's something lonesome about you Something so wholesome about you Get closer to me

as time goes marching forward and aziraphale finds that he does agree with crowley, crowley gets to discover so much more about aza. he discovers how lonely aziraphale is in heaven and he discovers how obscenely adorable aza is(just crowley falling in love with aziraphale and his magic and his books and his food and and and). Crowley finds himself urging aziraphale closer. for a few moments even he can't tell what his intentions are. does he just want aza to be less lonely? does he want to tempt aza toward evil? does he want to purify himself? does he just want to be less lonely? does he just want to be closer to aziraphale? perhaps it's a little bit of all of them. regardless his surprise when aziraphale does get closer to him and he gets to discover even more about him is pleasant but still strong

No tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony No 'who cares', no vacant stares, no time for me

crowley has seen so many tired sighs, rolling eyes, and examples of irony from heaven. but the closer he gets to aza, the more he discovers that aziraphale distinctly lacks them. those gabriel qualities that are holy in heaven, aza entirely rejects. but that doesn't mean he has qualities of the other side. the 'who care' nature of demons, the vacant stares he gets constantly down below, the time that beelzebub will make for crowley's nonsense. all of these things, aziraphale doesn't have. he cares so much, he only ever looks at things intently, and crowley has to be on his best behaviour around aziraphale or he gets really disappointed. crowley is falling so far in love with this angel. because aziraphale isn't a side, aziraphale defies sides and is so good. crowley can't stay away.

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

what crowley finds truly remarkable about this angel that the more he knows, the more his life becomes better. because the angel is so familiar, a version of himself that he had once wanted to be, a view in the mirror thousands of years prior. crowley isn't that person anymore. his idealism is now imprisoned in this demon body where it can't be expressed. the chivalry he wants to act upon for aziraphale, it's fallen, fallen on it's own sword. his innocence died screaming all the way down to the basement. but this angel that can express the idealism, that can be chivalrous, that maintains innocence in the face of everything, he feels familiar to crowley because at some point thats where crowley thought he would be, that's the reflection he had hoped to see in the mirror. so now he slithers all the way from Eden, just to sit outside aza's door and pretend that the window he peeks through is a mirror.

Babe There's something wretched about this Something so precious about this Where to begin?

this relationship their forging, that they each fight for everyday in tiny ways, they see it in different ways. aziraphale views it as something so precious, something that he would rearrange the cosmos for. and while crowley also loves and values the relationship, he would firstly describe it as wretched. he's a demon after all, he's down with the wretched. aziraphale doesn't see it that way and trying to explain it to him is always a struggle. when crowley attempts he doesn't even know where to even begin (((author brainrot interjection: IT BEGINS AS IT WILL END IN A GARDEN anyways back to out regularly scheduled programming)))

Babe There's something broken about this But I might be hoping about this Oh, what a sin

he begins before his fall, back when he still had idealism and chivalry and innocence. he knew even then that something was broken with this system, he had questions about it, he had suggestions. and more importantly, he had hope. he had hope that people would answer his questions, they would listen to his suggestions, they would understand where he was coming from, they would want the same thing that he did for the system, to make it better. but to suggest or ask a question that said the system is broken, that was a sin.

To the strand a picnic plan for you and me A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree

for the angels who didn't have questions, god would have picnics and all good things. but for god's other men like crowley who had questions, god handed them the rope to hang themselves and make their way downstairs.

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

so yes, aziraphale is familiar, aziraphale feels like that angel that crowley almost was. and as he sees this idealism imprisoned in heaven, as he watches the other angels pushing aziraphale onto his own sword like a vampire on a stake, and bears witness to this pure good being ostracized by the people who are supposed to be the good ones, he kills the last bits of innocence in his soul, he loses any hope he had for the system, he burns it all to the ground, he leaves eden, he just slithers to aziraphale's door and sits there

Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on its sword Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know I slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door

bonus aziraphale pov: as stupid as it sounds, aziraphale also sees himself in crowley. crowley is idealistic and chivalrous and though crowley never sees it, aziraphale loves the innocent parts of crowley. the way crowley takes care of his plants, the way his car is so important to him, the way his appearance takes up a significant part of his brain. aziraphale has lost care for the system as time went on. the innocent urge to make sure people are seeing what they wish to see, he left that behind a while ago. now all he has is the selfish want to do good. because aziraphale doesn't do good for other people, he does it singularly for himself because he makes him feel good. when he sees crowley, who cares so deeply about right and wrong as ideals, he sees a part of him in the past. the part of him that had tried so hard to be the angel god wanted him to be. so aziraphale sees crowley's idealism imprisoned in this demonic form because the system didn't let him express it. he sees a system that pushed crowley onto his own sword. he looks at crowley and he still sees that childlike innocence in his faith in objective good that's separate from god. that innocence that aza once had died screaming a long time ago. when aziraphale goes to see crowley, he feels a little bit like he's slithering, that he's really the snake coming from eden to tempt crowley so he hides outside crowley's door.

[liauditore]

Pssst if you’re still doing the shipping bingo, how would team rancher/solidaritek fill your bingo board?

OFC. RANCHERSSS ALWAYS AND FOREVER 😭😭

ok but.. real talk i think ranchers is like. my number two "I actually ship this no strings or footnotes attached" ship right after ethubs.

I am usually not one to be moved by ships that are just "they are fun and healthy together and love eachother" but oh GOD the ranchers. See I think the thing is they just.. make sense for eachother even if you don't expect it until the point they realise they're soulmates.

Jimmy's situation has been talked about to hell and back at this point but Tango is also very out of his element in the life series. He says himself that pvp is not his specialty and he doesn't have the time or resources to make his skill set shine. So he ends up either somewhat ignored or outcasted for most of the games. (<-- fyi fun fact this is where the whole 'mech pilot tango' idea came from lol. i feel like he'd have a dva-style mech outside of the life series)

In particular i LOVE his relationship with team BEST and I NEED desperately to talk abt it more. the way he's constantly talked over by his own teammates, intimidated, asked to sacrifice his own lives for their sake, "tango's Easy", etc. etc.

‘Cause inside, nothing’s fine It should be clear to prying eyes But I won’t let the feelings See the light So tell me, why should I even try? I’m frozen away in time

(Koala, Will Stetson)

They both have this habit of hiding their own insecurities behind a facade of boisterousness, but no matter how much either of them puff out their chests and raise their voices, their message of "please take me seriously" never seems to get through.

The Ranchers are just.. two losers against the world. and they inspire confidence within the other that they can't find in themselves. and yes the world forces them apart but you can Feel that influence they've had on one another in the background.

Guess I went and caved I wonder, is there another way? Because I want to believe That one day I’ll be okay So now, I’ll give it another try I can finally see with a clearer mind Even if the bumps in the road Might try to stop me, Still it’ll be alright Keeping it inside Isn’t clearing up the sky So you tighten your hand in mine Following the light like a cute Koala Laughing in stride

Plus I, uh... Unhinged but I have this thing with the life smp where there's this running theme throughout the story about how it doesn't really matter who wins or who dies first.

Because for every epic battle and every tear-jerking death there was fun and laughter and stupid, trivial drama before and in between and those little moments may not be as memorable or written down in history but they're what makes the series enjoyable. Yes, we're all gonna die, but isn't it cool that we laughed with eachother and made dumb jokes and adopted a frog and said "I love you" on the way there?

j-just like real life. life smp. evangelion moment im sorry

Though both of us will die one day Though this life is useless anyway When you’re here by my side, you make me feel like it’ll be okay And yet we laughed despite it all At this life which has no meaning at all Two lonely and broken souls leaning on each other’s sides I’m glad that you’re you, that I’m me, and for us two I’m kinda glad that you’re evil too When the day starts anew, hope I spend it with you I’m glad that I fell in love with you

(I'm Glad You're Evil Too, Rachie/Anthong translyrics)

The Ranchers epitomize that.

They are doomed. They both know this, I think. Neither of them can fight, they're left begging for scraps by session 2, no one on the server takes either of them seriously and they lost a life literally like 10 minutes into the first episode.

But they built a home together, raised livestock, stood up for eachother. and they were happy together.

and isn't that what really matters?

and neither of them are even aware of how much they really meant to the other one. the game ends. tango tells jimmy to go home. go. they certainly don't break up to the extent of Some Other Pairings In This Series but i like to think tango distances himself, thinking jimmy would be happier with his friends and not stuck with him. jimmy thinks the same. but they still wave hi and call eachother rancher and now they're running a salad restaurant together or something i guess.

It's just.. everything that gets the two of them condemned and made fun of in their other relationships is what's Celebrated in theirs. They can just be themselves, mistakes and silliness and imperfections at all, with no pressure to perform amazing feats and make amazing stuff and I think that's great.

um yeah i like ranchers.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Discovery II (female nerevarine x dagoth ur)

Author's Note: Serious memory loss & alteration, and prolly the epitome of "creepy fluff".

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

Sadara shifted slowly.

She didn't want to open her eyes. Not just because she was comfortable, but because it would remind her of the present reality.

She was back in Red Mountain, and it was highly unlikely she would ever leave it again. After deciding to leave Voryn, determined she could not be a part of his evil--a stroke of bad luck ensured that it would happen anyway.

The thought of those poor corprus victims, the thought of the other innocents that would suffer, of all the evil that would come--

All because you could not bring yourself to raise a weapon against him.

Was it Azura's voice, or her own? It was hard to say. Not that it mattered, not anymore...

It was all over. No recall, no intervention would work here, and Voryn hadn't let her out of his sight without at least two escorts, so it wasn't as though she could simply sneak away from him either. And even if she did manage it--the Ordinators all wanted her dead, all wanted her obliterated, for being the Nerevarine. For being a threat to the temple.

Could she really say she had a chance out there, even if she DID try to go for Wraithguard? Even if she was to try and do what she'd been sent for?

A hand on her face. Sadara jolted backward, but found herself unable to go very far due to Voryn's grip.

"No, I--" she decided to feign fear.

"Hush, moon-and-star, you're safe now." His voice was soft. "You need fear no more dangers, now that you are in my arms again, as you should be."

"So many times I'd wake and..." Sadara gulped slightly, "And...find myself nearly caught. I barely slept some days...and not at all for the two days it took to get to the Argonians."

"That explains why you have been sleeping so deeply the last few days." A slight chuckle. With his free hand Voryn lifted her chin, and a moment later his lips brushed over hers. "That was your desire, was it not? To finally be able to rest? Not to struggle and fight for every scrap? Not to worry about where your day will lead you?"

Meeting his eyes made her quail and she looked down. She moved closer, burying her face into his neck, hiding her gaze from him.

"So fearful," he said, "I should have known the ordinators would act as they did...sent some sleepers with you, perhaps."

"That would have made things too obvious. I--"

"You could have died, moon-and-star. You could have died, and my heir, our child with you."

There was a pause, and then he sat up with her.

"Speaking of...we should talk of lighter things. Perhaps of potential names?"

"Of course." Sadara latched onto the new topic eagerly. "But I'm going to start off by saying Nerevar is off the table."

"And why should it be?"

"Given our situation...seems it would be awkward." She shifted slightly, and rubbed at her eyes.

"Raveren?"

"That's just Nerevar backwards. Are all your ideas going to be variations of his name? Are your next ones going to be things like Enarrev, or Rarenev?"

"You have seen straight through me," Voryn gave a slight laugh. "Forgive me, thoughts of you have plagued me for so long that it is hard to think of anything else."

A pause. Sadara felt a strange sense of deja vu...and then a memory rose.

"We've talked about this...before, I mean..." she stopped to think, and then went on, "I remember now. When I still thought Ayem and I would have children, we'd talk about names..."

She wasn't able to see his face, but she could feel the smile that came next.

"It stopped happening when it became clear we'd never have children...but...I still remember some of them. Rielle...for beauty, I think. Mallari since we were Chimer, and naming a King's child 'gold' seemed to work in my head at the time."

"Sunna," Voryn said, "Because you considered a child to be a blessing. You liked Varla too, since it meant star...and you wore the moon-and-star. I recall Ayem was not at all fond of that idea."

She swallowed slightly. "Perhaps we should just wait until the child is born...sometimes you can pick out a name, but then see them and...you just know they're not that name."

"A fair point." He pulled back to look down at her. "You're trembling, Nerevar. What's wrong?"

"Well--" Sadara tried to think quickly, "All this talk of Ayem, and...and that I don't feel ready for--if you only knew how poorly things went for me for so long. I'm so accustomed to...and carrying a child is...inherently dangerous."

"No harm will come to you under my watch," Voryn promised. "Look at me, Nerevar. Look at me."

She didn't want to meet his eyes, but she did. He stared in silence for nearly a minute before speaking in a sad tone.

"It is me you fear. Why?"

"I'm sorry," Sadara said quickly, "I don't want to be afraid of you. I--I--seeing all the corprus victims Divath Fyr tended...seeing the suffering...I know you mean well. I know you do. But, still..."

She swallowed. There was one possible solution to this, wasn't there? One she felt might make itself necessary, considering the fact that now he had her here, there was no getting out. She might as well try to remove the last obstacle to enjoying this new life.

"You've made the others forget things," she said, "Please. Can you make me forget this, too? I don't want this any more than you want me to have it. Being near the Heart will bring more of Nerevar's memories to the forefront...and...I can make you as happy as--"

His hands rose to her face.

"Hush. All will be well soon. I believe it's simply the babe making you so anxious...it does tend to happen." He paused. "I should have realized you would need this. Your upbringing in the Empire has...clouded your mind, choked you of what you should be."

Sadara nodded, agreeing with every word, or at least seeming to.

Then she was pulled closer, held against Voryn's chest as one hand stroked at her hair. "Worry not, Nerevar, soon all will be well."

She already knew she was lost. Perhaps in another time things might have gone differently, but now?

Now...

She relaxed into his arms. "I was afraid you wouldn't understand this...hesitation. I thought you might be angry."

"I could never be angry with you, moon-and-star."

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

Water came, in a silver bottle.

"There is a cave where my followers gather, when it is time for them to cast aside their old lives and prepare for their new in my service," Voryn said, as he poured a cupful for her. "And in that cave is water blessed by those highest in my service--that are not my brothers. Water that purges the mind of the old, allowing the fears and regrets of their lives before to be cleansed. And so, once consumed, they are born anew..."

Sadara watched the bottle briefly, thinking it felt familiar, before looking back to the cup. It was nearly full, and he pressed it into her hands.

"It won't hurt the babe?"

"Of course not. Now drink, Nerevar." The mask was on, so she could not see his face. But she could certainly hear the commanding tone he used.

He still did not use her name. If this water would truly clear her mind, perhaps it was best. She might not remember ever being Sadara anyway. And besides that, a hundred questions clouded her mind. Would she remember anything? Would she only remember what he wanted her to? Would she forget things but remain convinced they happened? Would she be fearful over losing such memories?

She lifted the cup to her lips, and began to drink, thinking back to her earliest memory.

We must leave Skingrad, our cousin...the dead...

Cousin, had there been a cousin?

Had there been any family? Or had she truly been alone? Alone until the emperor's...

A sudden fear shot through her. She stopped drinking to breathe, and her hands shook as she hesitated to drink more. Nothing before the boat, and that scarred Dunmer. Nothing to reach for, nothing to...

Voryn, perhaps noting this, brought the cup back to her mouth.

"Please--" she started in protest, but gagged slightly as he tilted the cup and more of that water crossed her lips. She had to swallow in order to not choke.

"I'm sorry, Nerevar," he said in a pained tone, "I never wanted to force this, but it is best. Don't worry. Once your incarnation is forgotten, I will be here to build you back up to what you have always been."

Sadara could do nothing but drink, and reached for his free hand with both of her own. He let her take it, squeeze it, hold fast to it when everything in her mind was growing dimmer.

Yes, it was better this way. It was better to forget all that she knew. To forget that she was...Nerevari...not Nerevar, but another word. Her heart beat faster, but the fear was quickly passing away. She was not that word, whatever it was.

Delirium rose, and clouded her vision. There was nothing but Voryn, the cup, and the water within.

Some memories flickered, but others rose to take their place. Morrowind...Resdayn. Hortator, King...Seht, Vehk, and...and...who was that third name? Ayem. Yes.

The Heart Chamber...Voryn.

The last thing she thought after finishing the water, which was itself quickly washed away, was that she couldn't remember why she'd been afraid.

Voryn was there, there was nothing to worry about now.

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

There were very few things she was sure of.

The Heart of Lorkhan, that was one thing. Standing near it, it seemed almost to beat in time with her own. So much in her mind seemed to be gone...but she was sure Voryn would explain, he always did, even if things were strange for a while.

A knife through Voryn's chest. Seht, Vehk, and Ayem...they had killed her, but she hadn't been a her then, that much she was sure of. She hadn't been capable of pregnancy, like she was clearly displaying now.

She looked across the bridge on hearing footsteps and gave a slight smile on seeing Voryn there.

"Is something wrong, Nerevar?"

"Well, it's just that..." she turned back around to look at the heart. "I can't remember how I have lived, exactly. How you can be here, since I remember thinking I would never harm you, yet there is a memory..."

"A false memory, Nerevar," Voryn's voice, deep and reassuring, sounded off. His hands came to her shoulders. "Nothing but a bad dream."

"Then why do you look so different?"

"That tends to happen when one becomes a god, Nerevar." A slight chuckle, that was quickly interrupted by a slightly sad tone, "You were the one who died that day."

"How am I here?"

"I brought you back, of course." Voryn's hands slipped from her shoulders and came to rest on either side of her belly. "We may have been a bit overenthusiastic in our celebration."

"That part I remember," she said, "You've hardly left my side. I'm not going to vanish, Voryn. Though I am curious why you brought me back this way instead of as the man I was."

"I had to make a number of changes to save you. This was merely...a welcome side effect."

"I did always want your children. I never spoke that wish aloud." There was a pause. "Strange, isn't it, the way things work out, despite there being so much I don't remember."

"I wouldn't call it strange, Nerevar." There was a brief chuckle as the child within her kicked. "But whatever you have forgotten, you must remember this: I am here. And I will never again let the shadow of death hang over you."

[j0kers-light]

Hiii, how are you Chaos???

I haven't read the comics, if I'm not wrong you have, right? Because you know a lot of things about J and It is just incredible

If you have read the comics, could you explain a bit about how Joker is in those? (If you have based your version of J too pls)

ALSO, you said Frost appears in the comics, but the only Frost I've found is this woman

https://images.app.goo.gl/NuHiHAFUWuNNDYDk6

And the only goon of Joker that I've found is this one (I know Neo and Mac are your ocs but I remember you saying that Frost appears in the comics)

WOW CHAOS I WAS LOOKING FOR A PIC OF THE OTHER GOON AND FOUND THIS MAN NAMED JONNY FROST(????

https://images.app.goo.gl/XzVwFc8fH9dDDhNi6

Is this who you based Frost of? I can't find any black man named Frost And he is said to he the mist loyal man

This is the other goon, does he exist in the Chaos universe?

https://images.app.goo.gl/8RJfjhrC3bJL6irE6

I believe his name is gaggy? I'm not sure

I would love to see his dynamic with Joker/his goons, maybe he is part of Joker's past? Someone he had to get rid off

In short, you would do me a great favor if you explained a little about the Joker from the comics and what parts of him you have taken for your story because I find it very interesting 😭

and his anarchist side too because I don't get why does he do all that, does he simply want to watch the world burn? Just Chaos? Is that it, he isn't power hungry nor he wants another person to have political control? Doesn't he do all that because he believes in something?

SORRY FOR YAPPING 😭

Hey hi anon 🖤✨

I'm doing lovely! omg Chaos universe has me in a spiral!!! I'm popular enough to have my own universe😫what an honor! And DO NOT apologize for yapping! I read every word with rapt attention.

So let's discuss anon! Grab a seat and a snack, we're going in deep!

Yes, I've read most of the comics save for a few here and there. Depending on the comic..... Joker is either a jester who kills for fun, the epitome of evil who thinks killing is funny, or clinically insane and doesn’t see the difference in anything. He just out here ballin’ or all of the above.

The Joker is so complex I could write essays for the rest of my life talking about him. My favorite depiction of J is from The Killing Joke although in the “Chaos universe” (I love saying that) Joker derives from the Nolan trilogy and the Arkham Games. Heavy on the games; they’re my favorites for a reason. So a mixture of all Jokers really 🤔 Here's a chart if you're interested! I've seen/read/played them all except for 2019.

Anyhoo. Yes! That's Killer Frost a completely different character who is absolutely amazing in her own right. Good call out 😉

AND CONGRATULATIONS FOR FINDING FROST! Let’s talk about Frosty!!! ❄❄❄❄

Although this depiction of Frost sorta kinda betrays Joker and ends up being killed for it, I took some creative liberties with making him my own.

Joker's Loyal Three what a concept. Mac and Neo are of course my OC's (I did not have to go so hard creating them 😤but I did)

Frost is actually albino but since I write for people of color.. I made him African American so he’s kinda a OC to an extent. Frost is divorced in my series and he has a daughter which I named Genesis so I'm staying canon but giving him a Chaos spin.

There are some background conversations that reference Frost in Arkham Asylum (or maybe Origins) and I just felt it was the right thing to do to honor Frost and give him flowers. I think details no matter how small really matter when creating a story.

I honestly don't know this third character Gaggy? so no he will not be making a cameo in any of my series 🤣

Now. As for Joker's schtick. Everything to Joker is funny in some way hence the name. Once you take that away aspect, Joker isn't really that much of a threat. He has no superpowers, no advantage other than being unpredictable and insane-- so the reason why Joker "does what he does" (I think) is maintain his one desire. To be remembered.

His ultimate fear (in the comics) is being forgotten and if no one pays him any attention... 🤷🏾‍♀️poof. So Joker pulls these elaborate stunts, he works hard to gain Batman's attention and be the number one villain to stay memorable and feared by the citizens of Gotham. Yes, he wants to watch the world burn, no he really doesn't believe in anything. That's what makes him a threat. He's unpredictable even after all these years.

Some versions of Joker (the one's I like) he knows what he's doing is wrong, yet he does not care. He isn't power hungry, he doesn't care about the average man, he just wants people to see the world like he does as One. Big. Joke.

He's that de-synthesized, that far removed from humanity that if he dies, oh well. Now if Batman dies... now that's another story. No one entertains Joker's mental instability the way Bats does. A world without Batman is another big fear for Joker.

It's also the biggest fight of them all; good verses evil. Batman vs. Joker. Never ending, an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

Lol, now I'm yapping and quoting The Dark Knight. 🤣😭

[beevean]

The route that surge and kit should have taken should have been the relationship between wario and waluigi, or dick dastardly and muttly. When I saw them, I remember thinking that I had finally mastered the Wario-like imitation of Sonic.

I agree with @randomthefox and his idea that Surge and Kit should have been nearly codependant, as the true parallel between Sonic and Tails' strong, healthy bond.

"Sonic" bullying "Tails" is overdone. It's a joke as old as time. It makes Surge far less likeable, and Kit just a poow widdle woobie. It also blurries the line between "Starline thinks Sonic and Tails act like this, so they're in-universe meta parodies" and "they're actual characters you're supposed to take seriously".

Surge and Kit being unhealthly attached to each other and against the whole world? Now that would have been interesting! Kit works already as he is, but imagine Surge as a violently protective older sis when she gets separated from Kit! And yeah, she can still call him Drippy and be lowkey mean, but not in a way where it looks like she's taking advantage of the fact that he cannot even think about anything that she doesn't think! Just... an evil yet genuine friendship, you know? One that makes you feel sorry for these poor kids, while still acknowleding that they're twisted and not to be taken lightly!

When you think about it, Surge and Kit as they are just don't fit Starline's plan. Why is Surge such a rebellious punk, when she's supposed to follow orders? Why is Surge so dismissive of her ally? How in the fuck were they supposed to replace Sonic and Tails no Flynn you can't just say that he didn't think that far ahead YOU didn't think that far ahead because you knew that you would never have to but Starline couldn't know he would have died by then AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Surge and Kit are the epitome of wasted potential and, after 6 months have passed from their anticlimatic ending, they just make me sad.

[iturbide]

Do you have thoughts on Chrom initially refusing to ask Plegia for help? On the one hand, I can kinda(?) understand the knee-jerk emotional reaction but on the other hand, most of Gangrel's army abandoned him because of Emmeryn, and he's dead now. (tho Chrom did change his mind pretty quick so who knows, maybe he did think of this) (but then because this is vidya gaem and Plegia is Da Bad Guys, we then meet Validar, who tried to kill Emm, get risen attacked, and more after the Valm war. :T)

There's a part of me that wants to think Chrom's refusal was at least an attempt to follow in Emm's footsteps and treat Plegia with compassion. Despite the fact that Gangrel was clearly forcing compliance from his people (something we hear directly from Mustafa before Gangrel's army deserts him on the battlefield), not to mention the whole unaddressed crusade and attempted genocide by the Exalt before Emmeryn, Plegia was forced to pay Ylisse and Regna Ferox both at the end of the war. They were absolutely taken advantage of in the aftermath of Gangrel's defeat, and Chrom may have balked at the idea of pressing them to fund and supply the resistance against Valm, because Emm likely would have.

The more likely answer, though, is prejudice. I love Chrom, but he's a product of his culture, and Ylisse is heavily biased against their western neighbor. He may not be as overt about it as Frederick is, but those prejudices are still there, and he may well have been balking at the idea of begging aid from Ylisse's historic enemies.

(And honestly, from a narrative standpoint, it's because Plegia is 100% coded as the Epitome of Evil and you're taking your life into your own hands if you go knocking at the devil's door. Chrom's got a kid now and no interest in risking his neck like that.)

[lastbluetardis]

Oooh hunger games fan, yes okay!(Spoilers FOR THE FIRST BOOK/MOVIE) What are your thoughts on the Peta and Katniss win in the first book and their ship in general? (I hated it. You're telling me, in all 74 years no one tried to unalive themselves together, or the capital couldn't have let Peta die the plane) I could go on—and have on multiple occasions—about the headcanon's I have for this series, but I digress and have you read the prequel? And if so what are your thoughts on them. Sorry didn't mean to word-vomit at you.

Haha! No worries Nonnie.

I actually loved Peeta/Katniss. I'm a really big fan of soft male characters, and Peeta is the epitome of that character archetype. It's one of those moments of alliance by necessity grows into a true and genuine friendship which eventually grew into a true and genuine love. Even when Katniss is romantically uninterested in Peeta, she loves him enough as a human being to be willing to sacrifice everything for him.

I think their ruse with the berries was really clever, but I do see your point. I have read the prequel, and I'll get to my thoughts on that in just a sec, but I think the prequel kind of supports my thoughts here.

The prequel showed that many of the tributes of the earlier Hunger Games weren't willing participants, and a lot of them died due to other factors. So there really wouldn't have been many instances of two tributes threatening to kill themselves to end the Games. Usually the winner would have been on their last leg because they were simply able to outlast the competition. Plus, for those first 20-ish Games, there really weren't stakes, because nobody really watched the Games or rooted for them.

But gradually, the Games grew into a fierce competition, especially with the Districts that sent their Career tributes into the arena. We the readers have been told countless times that those Career tributes were ruthless and would basically hunt down the other Districts' weaklings while also turning on each other, so it doesn't surprise me that none of those Tributes thought of a double-suicide to try to pull one over on the Gamemakers.

And so I think that the stunt with the berries was likely the first time anything like that had been attempted. And even if it wasn't, the Gamemakers likely would have put a stop to a stunt like that in any previous Games. However, in this specific Game, they were marketing the starcrossed lovers angle for the Games in order to draw more people into it and to make the folks in the Capitol more invested in the Games, so the Gamemakers had to tread carefully to keep the romance alive long enough to appease the audience.

But overall, I really love Katniss and Peeta. I think they're excellent complements to each other and work well with each other's strengths and weaknesses.

Back to the prequel, I just read it this past winter and really liked it. I was a little wary of it, hoping that the author wouldn't be trying to pull one of those "oh, Snow is actually a good guy, he was just misunderstood". Thankfully that wasn't the case. Sure, he was charming at times, but we already knew this. Only a charming, charismatic person could rise to power as quickly and completely as Snow did.

The author had me sympathizing with him at times, but also raising lots of red flags about him as well, showing the snake beneath the man so well. And I think it was a beautiful way to highlight the fact that every villain doesn't come out of the womb completely "evil". It's usually a gradual progression.

Anyways, now I'm the one apologizing for word vomiting 😂 Thanks for this ask, Nonnie. It's been a hot minute since I've gone on one of my analytical ramblings, and it was quite fun 🤓

[saberlibrary]

HIYAAA, this is me, IM SO HAPPY YOU WANT TO BE MOOTS WITH ME AS WELL, so far ive finsihed most of my assignments I just a few that take a little more longer and so much more effort but after that im so taking a big break.

so true though, ive been a ghost user since I joined and that was like 2020 I totally saw the rise and the fandom of the superwholock era but I never really joined in on it as I haven't watched those shows so Tumblr was like an app that was there but I wasn't using it every hour of the day as I am now, it has now become my favourite escape from reality other than sleeping (and even that could use some improvement like lucid dreaming or maybe even shifting) >_< so ive just been a consumer on here until I see like blogs that drop posts within a minute and the next day it has more than like 10,000 notes (WHICH they soo deserve bc damn they write so majestically) and I was like man I would die if even one person liked my posts and liked what I wrote, I cant even imagine how I would react to 100 let alone 10,000. like I think I would sob. and the way blogs write their posts, you can tell they put their whole mind and soul and everything into it, its so beautiful. so this community really ignited my previously dead passion for writing and I love it for that.

I have no experience in working but I think I might have to start soon since my situation sort of demands it so I have no idea what its like but I can only imagine changing 100% of a campaign is more than stressful, I hope it goes well for you and you get more free time to yourself.

also I noticed you said mother language, i'm actually curious, what's your mother language?

also side note: I was rereading your sukuna body and soul fic (for like the nth time bc I cant get enough of it) and I was so shocked bc like I LOATHE sukuna after like everything he did ARGH I cant express how much I hate him but omg that fic, mmmh, it hit different because my hatred for him, boom, somehow became nonexistent and im daydreaming about being the reincarnated lover of this epitome of evil man. im literally catching feelings that's how good it was.

i really enjoyed your reply and I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, its honestly the first time im having interactions other than likes on here. and im so glad that I get to be mutuals with you.

hope you're doing well, >>>>3333

euorian.

I'm so happy to finally meet you, boo! <3

I hope you can finish your assignments asap and enjoy the New Year's and also a good break!!

I actually watched 2/3 of superwholock so it was... an experience!! I also get so happy when I see authors with that many notes because I know how they put their hearts into their writing and they totally deserve it. and they're doing it FOR FREE, it's kinda insane especially when we read some shakespearian level kinda thing.

and I can tell you even one interaction makes a big difference, people like you -- taking a bit of your time to write a little something -- supporting us mean the world. so, thank you again. and I assure you I'll be there to support you as well with your writing ^_^

and AHHHHHHHHH I'm so glad you liked my sukuna!!! I'm gonna tell ya I'm NOT a sukuna girlie lol. gojo is my fav jjk character (toji and megumi fight for 2nd place). BUT I think sukuna is a great villain, he's hot af and I mean-- I WOULD. and the idea of that big bad monster, the king of curses, being obsessed with a woman? A SIMP? IM DOWN.

definitely gonna write more about him.

my mother language is portuguese !!!

you can always talk to me, send me DMs, whatever u want! again, its nice to meet you, euorian. <3

[a-student-out-of-time]

Tbh, I do agree with your theory about David being the blackened of this chapter, only because he can't really 'do antagonistic things' from here on out. People say he was set up to be a rival character, but now that everyone knows he's a manipulative scumbag, he can't manipulate anyone in the future. So I can't really see how he can be an antagonist other than just being a pain in the ass for Teruko (and everyone else ig) cause I really don't think you can manipulate someone that knows you are manipulative. I don't even want to say he's extremely well written, nor do I want to say he's poorly written cause it's only been 15 minutes that we've seen this 'new David'. Don't get me wrong, I do think there is more to him than just 'lmao I'm evil' but if people think that he's going to be the main rival? Nah. We already have Teruko playing both the protag and antag

//The thing about opposition to my theory that really perplexes me is that people will say "We can't predict where the story is going" (yes we can), but then they'll fall back into the same formulaic tropes as old DR for characters, like David being the rival.

//Except, as you've pointed out, nobody is ever going to trust David again after this. You're right, we've only seen a fraction of this version of the character here, so it's hard to say what he's really like, but even just from a logical perspective, I don't think he really could serve as a good rival.

//Even with characters like Kokichi or Nagito, who nobody in-story liked, they still served a thematic role as a continuous part of the narrative. Some people forget Nagito wasn't just the funny meme man, he was an antagonistic force that represented the polar opposite of Junko: someone being so obsessed with hope that he was willing to kill for it. That came to a head when he found out he and everyone save Chiaki were all despairs.

//Same with Kokichi, who was the walking epitome of a liar and thus was the total opposition to people like Kaede, Shuichi and Kaito. While he was usually just a gremlin for most of the game, he wound up poking holes in their camaraderie and nearly drove the survivors past the despair event horizon in Chapter 5. And ultimately, he played a role in bringing the game to its end by revealing it was all a lie.

//Even Byakuya served an effective rival role because he was clearly far more invested in the game and outmaneuvering everyone else, while Makoto and Kyoko were far more focused on trying to put a stop to it before everyone died. He finally got the picture after Sakura's death, especially when it was made clear his inability to comprehend sacrifice or altruism nearly got him and everyone else killed.

//They all had a major role in the story which counterbalanced that of the protags. They were in thematic or ideological opposition and could challenge them on some level.

//By contrast, Teruko and David already share many of the same views. They're both distrustful and have a low opinion of others, only looking out for themselves. The difference is that, while Teruko keeps to herself, David uses people to get what he wants. Yet both of them are ultimately resigned to their fates from the sound of it.

//Instead of a rival, I think David would serve a better role as a foil for Teruko. She gets to see the logical outcome of her choice not to trust others, leading her down a path of nihilistic fatalism and misanthropy, where all she cares about is protecting what she has. When you lose that, you have nothing left and you no longer care.

//David is everything she could become, but if this trial goes where I believe it might, him being the Blackened would be a major object lesson for her.

[000life-is-meaningless000]

Life feeds on life and I'm going to how peaceful you want to be eventually you're going to have to turn to the dark side because you are part of life then again there is an old saying that you either dye a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain

?

And then there's that age old grandiose evil that kind of forces many beings of life to force them to be evil and eat someone else, whether you're eating an animal or you're eating another person you have to eat something else made of this certain thing that is vital for survival this one thing that really fucking sucks

PROTEIN

It is the one thing that is vital for everyone this planet to survive the one thing that is extremely difficult the one thing that will turn any sane rational calm animal or person into a fucking violent psycho into a raging raving fucking lunatic if they don't get enough of it, everyone goes psycho level aggressive your brain falls apart you're not able to fucking function like a normal person if you don't get enough protein you will turn into a violent zombie and you won't be able to fight it because your brain is starting to collapse your brain is literally dying and part of your survival instinct is going to kick in and you're going to start to act like an animal

No matter willpower can override this

. . .

Protein is a very very evil fucking thing and it will force you to become evil it will force you to do Darkness

You probably saying then just eat soy, IF IT'S FUCKING AVAILABLE

If you're out in the wilderness do you have any idea how difficult it is to get fucking protein out in the wilderness most animals go fucking crazy even if they're herbivore and break their natural cycle and they go forth and eat something they're not genetically built to handle fucking deer will just eat a fucking chipmunk go eat a rabbit at random

Cows have been seen eating an entire rabbit they just bite the rabbit and start chewing it the entire rabbit and swallow it because they need protein so fucking bad that their DNA forces them to eat something completely 180 of their genetics

Protein is so important it'll turn even the most hardcore herbivore into a fucking Raging carnivore

Even if meat makes you sick protein is so important your body will force you to eat something which could be even to the point of suicidal just to get the protein is so fucking important

And now you understand why cannibalism is so fucking sexy and society and a lot of animals find cannibalism so fucking sexy because it gives the females a 100% survival chance he gets a females one and nutrients they can't get anywhere else it gives a females extreme strength and supreme health as long as they're willing to get Down with the Darkness

Also cannibalistic females also tend to have much much healthier

Offspring and the female mantises if they cannibalize will get even more eggs pushed out and there are Higher Quality, Much Higher Quality

But that's just it that's just fucking it he seems like there's nothing in life !

. . .

It seems like the epitome of life is just a fuck over other people it seems like the only good there is in life is to be dead

👻

Cuz the least evil you can do is to not be alive at all you're not alive you're not taking resources if you're not alive you're not hurting anything if you're not alive you're you're less likely to kill something else if you're not alive then you're not going to eat something else you're not going to eat the rabbit you're not going to eat the mouse the mice are probably going to eat the rabbit you didn't eat the rap that makes you Good

Or, Dose . . . It ?

. . .

Or do we have morality completely confused ?

Is sometimes being Dark moral ?

. . .

Maybe good as an evil and evil isn't good maybe just fucking Maybe but we think is good it's based off our limited comprehension of what is Good ?

Idk, I Swear to Fucking God, I'm on to Something !

[howl-fantasies]

A/N - That's clearly what I'd do. I'm a simple woman. Something scares me, I burn it to the ground. 🙆🏻‍♀️

------- 1 New Message --------

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

Y/N! Answer your phone! I need immediate assistance!

Y/N

For what?

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

I think there's something in my mansion!

Y/N

Call Victor then, he's your hitman. I'm busy.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

NO! He wouldn't understand! THERE. IS. SOMETHING. IN. MY. MANSION.

Y/N

Why wouldn't he understand?

Vic is pretty binary when it comes to that: walk into the boss house -> die.

🤷🏻‍♀️

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

I KNOW THAT STUPID WOMAN! But it's not a person who is breaking in! Well, not a consistent person at least.

Y/N

Oswald... How did Ed put this?

...

GHOSTS AREN'T REAL!

...

Take your pills and go to sleep.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

I KNOW WHAT I'VE SEEN Y/N

Y/N

Oh. And what did you saw? Your dad in a night robe, with a candle telling you nonsense again? Must be Ed in that case.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

Pretty low even from you harlot!

...

NO! I saw a white mist going through the walls, it's so cold my teeth are shaking and I have a feeling of oppression.

Y/N

Must be because of your paranoia dude.

...

What am I supposed to do then? Put my nicest priest robe, grab a cross and holy water and swing it in the air yelling "NOW GET OUT SPIRIT! THIS IS MY COMMAND!"

...

Stop watching films Oswald.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

Screw you woman! You'll probably burn if you touch a cross and holy water! Do you even know about a book called The Bible? Cause I'm pretty sure you're not following it. At all.

Y/N

Look who's talking. Dude I could even read ancient texts if I wanted since I fucking know Latin.

...

But it's not the subject and you're wasting my time.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

DON'T ABANDON ME NOW!

Y/N

Stob being a baby! If you're so afraid, go grab a bazooka or something and blow up the house, your ghost won't go through any wall after that.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

So that's your solution when you have a problem or are afraid of something?

Y/N

Yes. And it works pretty well. And no ghost ever dared to show its transparent face in front of me.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

That would be because you're the epitome of evil. Even Satan is too scared to recruit you.

Y/N

Dude. Go back to sleep, you're annoying.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

Not before my problem is solved woman!

Y/N

Ok. I'll send someone. He's a professional and will help you.

Oswald CRIPPLEPOT

THANKS, wasn't so difficult after all, uh?!

----------- End of message ----------

.

-------- 1 New Message --------

Y/N

Good evening Inspector, I'd like to fill out a complaint form.

Jim Gordon

Are you kidding me, Y/N?

Y/N

No, I really want to do it, the reason is to signal a disturbance of the peace of the night by a lunatic.

Jim Gordon

Is the law a joke to you? You are the lunatic! I should be the one to fill out a complaint form.

Y/N

No, it very useful at the moment. Please send an unit at Mister Cobblepot mansion. Poor dude is losing it and is ranting about a ghost haunting his house.

Jim Gordon

I refuse to take your complaint.

Y/N

Oh, I knew you would say that.

...

That's why I called the Commissioner before sending you a text. Poor thing was still so scared of Victor, that I just had to mention him to make him obey. He'll call you I think.

Jim Gordon

...

You're infuriating! How in hell did you knew about the legal procedures to follow when a cop rejected your complaint?

Y/N

Carmine wanted me to follow law classes while being under his command. Then I passed the bar examination with flying colors✌️. Got an incredibly beautiful degree to put on my fridge.

Jim Gordon

Your despicable.

Y/N

Have a nice spooky night with Oswald Ghostbblepot Jimbo 👻

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on. 

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real. 

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you. 

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to. 

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

 Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley 

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism). 

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets. 

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home... 

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is. 

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den). 

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die. 

While we see Percy kind of (sort of)  make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”. 

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess. 

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har? 

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead! 

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other. 

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red. 

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay. 

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person. 

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so. 

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.