#don't stab the messenger

[unusual-ly]

Been meaning to post this for so long

[ceruark]

opening sequence

synopsis: you escaped to dreamflux reef thinking your captor wouldn’t be able to reach you, but your so-called savior lied to you. notes: yan! sunday x gn! reader. words: 1,424 cw: general yandere themes - brainwashing, and implied obsession, possessiveness, and abduction. disclaimer: major 2.2 story quest spoilers.

You spent nearly a year planning, making connections, figuring out who would keep quiet and who would tell on you in a heartbeat— nearly a year biding your time.

There was a booth in the corner of Dreamjolt Holstery that often went forgotten, so it was quite easy for messengers from the Dreamflux to overlook you when reporting to Gallagher. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was planning, and it was even easier to blackmail him using what you knew.

Take me to the Dreamflux, you demanded, or I'll damn us both.

He commanded Death to take you then and there. You disappeared without a trace, a few weeks before Robin did.

It was damn near impossible. But you'd done it. You'd gotten out.

The two months you've spent in Dreamflux Reef have been some of the best in recent memory. You spoke to strangers without worrying if you appeared too friendly with them. You roamed aimlessly, unconcerned with making it back to Dewlight Pavilion before a certain hour, or feeling the weight of a nightingale's unwavering gaze on your back.

For the first time since you met Sunday, you lived freely.

Hearing of the Astral Express's arrival only heightened your hopes. They never turned down a passenger, and if you asked to travel with them at the end of the Charmony Festival, you could get out of Penacony. You could escape his grasp for good.

The final step of your escape seemed all the more reachable when you heard through the grapevine that Gallagher was planning to lead the Express Crew to Dreamflux Reef. When you asked him if it was true, he confirmed it. When you begged him, for the umpteenth time, not to bring Sunday, he swore he wouldn't.

He lied.

The thing about being subjected to the gaze of the Harmony countless times is that, eventually, you become bound to it. In the Dreamscape, there was a constant tugging pressure in your head that reminded you your mind wasn't solely your own anymore, that reminded you of the person who had done this to you. The pressure would become more taught the further you wandered from him, a mental leash that ensured you stayed at his side.

The pressure dissipated completely once you arrived in the Dreamflux. You almost forgot what it felt like.

Almost.

You're sitting in a bar when it happens. You and the bartender watch, entertained, as a drunken Pepeshi guest attempts to play a game of Egyptian Ratscrew with other patrons who get him worked up just so he can bet higher and fatten the pot. He's just ran out of cards and is furiously yelling at the winner, a damning finger thrust in their face. You and the bartender laugh, and when you make eye contact with her, she winks at you.

You open your mouth to make a sly comment about the situation, but you choke on your words when a sharp pain stabs through your head. You double over, tumbling out of the barstool and onto the floor. The bartender and a few other guests run over to you, clamoring above you. Their words are static in your ears until the pain subsides.

Left in its wake is a familiar tugging sensation, far too loose for your liking.

Fear and adrenaline flood your veins. You shoot to your feet and push past them, your urgency enough to prevent them from trying to stop you. You rush toward the back of the building and shove at the back door that leads out into an alleyway.

You run for what feels like an eternity, but you don't feel the cord getting any tighter. If anything, it feels like it's getting even looser, and the mere thought terrifies you. You’ve changed directions several times now. How can he possibly be advancing on you?

In your frightened haze, you fail to recognize that there's a figure in your path, a figure that brightens at the sight of you.

You crash into them, sending you both tumbling to the ground.

"Sorry," you mumble, already getting to your feet. You don't have time to feel bad or make sure they're uninjured. You're ready to take off into a sprint again when a hand wraps around your wrist, and a melodic voice calls your name.

Your blood runs cold, and you slowly turn to face the woman sitting on the floor. Robin stares up at you in a mix of relief and worry.

"So you are here!" She exclaims excitedly, using her hold on you to bring herself to her feet. "I figured, after my own experience, that the same thing must have happened to you. Are you alright?"

Your throat goes dry. She doesn't know— she has no idea. Even if left unsaid, Sunday made it clear through implications that the worst of the Harmony would be reserved for if you ever said anything to Robin, so you never tried to. You don't have the heart to tarnish the adoration she has for him, anyways.

You force a smile. The thread unravels, growing slacker by the second. "I'm fine," you say, and you sound anything but it. You gently remove her hand from your wrist. "I have to go."

"Wait!" She catches you again by the shoulder, and urgency flares up in your stomach. You don't have much time left. "Can we talk? I could use a familiar face right now."

Your stomach sinks, and you place a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Later," you lie, "I promise."

Your hand drops to your side. You turn away from her, unable to look at her crestfallen expression.

The tension releases. A chill runs down your spine, and your mind feels fuzzy.

It's too late.

Only Robin's voice could make the devil's name sound beautiful to your ears. You turn just in time to watch him return her hug, one hand coming up to hold the back of her head gently, the other rubbing soothing circles into her back as she starts to cry.

His golden eyes pierce you, pinning you in place.

You tear your gaze away from him and look at your feet. The ground swims beneath them, swirls of pink, orange, and yellow contaminating the edges of your vision. The bone-deep terror grows muted as the Harmony hums in your head. You're euphoric, nearly hysterical.

Sunday releases his sister and pulls at the thread connecting you. Drunkenly, you stumble toward him, closing the few feet of distance between you. Your arms come up around his neck, and his arms snake around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to him. He presses a kiss to the side of your face. His lips tickle your ear when he speaks.

"Tell me," he whispers. "Was your disappearance planned by Gallagher?"

You know better than to try and lie in this state. "No."

He hums. His hold on you tightens. You can hardly breathe. "Did you ask him to bring you here?"

"Yes," you choke out. You bury your face in his shoulder. You can't bear facing him right now.

He sighs and presses another kiss to your cheek. "Dearest, you know I only want what's best for you."

You do know, and that's what hurts the most. No matter what he does to you, and no matter how much you suffer, you know he only has good intentions. You know, undoubtedly, that he loves you. Somewhere, beneath the meticulousness and the paranoia, is the charming, sweet man you fell for.

A sob escapes you. Behind you, Robin coos, moved by what she believes to be a heartfelt reunion between her brother and his lover. Sunday shushes you and brings one hand up to your head. Gloved fingers card through your hair, a comforting gesture.

"It's alright, dove." He gently takes your head between his hands and removes it from his shoulder, looking you in the eyes. "You and I will have all eternity to make up for the lost time."

There's not a hint of cruelty in his face, but something fervent— almost manic— gleams in his eyes. Your voice trembles. "What?"

He closes his eyes and presses a tender kiss to your lips. When his eyelids flutter open, rings of pink and orange surround his pupils.

"Rest now." He says against your lips, and your limbs grow heavy. You lean into him, and one of his arms comes up to support your back. His fingers dig into your spine.

"When you wake, we shall be one."

[shit-talker]

Honestly, sometimes it irks me that the batkids don't all have bird themed names.

So, I'm giving them ones;

Dick - Robin, obviously. He is Robin.

Jason - Cardinal. In ancient Roman culture, the cardinal was seen as a messenger bird from heaven, sent by those who had died. The word "cardinal" comes from the Latin word meaning "hinge," so it was believed that they were the hinges on the doorway between heaven and earth. I don't think this needs further explanation.

Cass - Crane. They're symbolic of healing and rebirth, and if "healing" doesn't scream Cass, I don't know what does. She goes from a literal child assassin to a protector who doesn't kill.

Tim - Bluejay. I was really considering using a Bluebird instead, but Bluejay just fit that little bit more. Bluejays are known to be intelligent. Spiritually, they're supposed to remind people of things they have long forgotten (seriously? Hello? That's literally Tim). On top of that, they also symbolise the ability to use a situation to ones benefit. In certain cultures, they're supposed to be totems of communication, which may not scream Tim, until you remember he started off basically yelling at Bruce to share and communicate his feelings!!

Duke - Finch. Look, I struggled here. I briefly considered Canary, but there's already a canary in the DC universe. So, a Finch. They're small birds and are supposedly representative of a calm person who would rather take their own, ling path than the shorter one. They're songbirds, which usually associates them with happiness and cheer, but they're mostly about being an independent and being happy and content with yourself and your journey.

Damain - Shrike. I've given Damian the name Shrike in the past because I find it hilarious. They're small birds, mostly known to harm their enemies by stabbing them. They're extremely territorial and are supposedly a sign of duality and balance; to hold life between both the good and the bad, which just screams Damian.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the letter. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary: One letter changed everything.

Warnings: secret relationship, kissing, mentioning of sex, some stress and talking about death

A/N: So that's it. One weak idea and what grew up around it. I hope you can read it. I haven't written anything in a long time.

Your hands were shaking and your throat was tight with unbearable pain. The short and hastily written letter that you had been holding for several minutes was getting stuck in your brain, and its words were almost screaming at you.

"...disobedience..." "...the senator felt rejected and disgraced by your refusal..." "...friend of the Emperor..." "...they demand your head..." "... someone will be sent..." "...run..."

You lifted your head and looked around the room, gasping for breath. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your whole body felt numb.

When the messenger showed up at your door that evening, you didn't expect it would be your last day on earth. A kind friend, someone who didn't wish you harm, but had heard a lot decided to warn you.

And that was it? Is this how you were supposed to end? Killed on the Emperor's orders just because some stupid senator felt hurt when you rejected his intrusive advances and marriage proposal?

"Gods, have mercy on me..."

You should have expected this. Claudius was an arrogant ignoramus who considered himself far superior to any other man except the Emperor. You shouldn't have teased him. Even though you were sure that your refusal was polite and you never let him know that you were happy with his advances...

"Stupid male pride." you muttered to yourself, crumpling the letter in your hands.

How much time do you have? Would you have time to leave Rome? Perhaps you could dispose of the estate, give orders to the servants. What if some Roman legionary is already coming to you to free you from this corporeal shell?

You've never felt so alive before. Almost...

An unexpected noise coming from the entrance reached your ears, and after a while your doorman rushed into the room, bowing low.

"Lady, General Acacius has arrived." he said quickly, "I told him that..."

The man didn't finish because the General unceremoniously rushed into the room, pushing him aside. You stood up abruptly, seeing the sword he was holding in his hand and the madness in his eyes.

"Gaius, leave us." you said quickly.

“My lady…” the man looked at you with fear.

"Now." you glanced at the older man's scared face, "Please."

Gaius quickly backed out of the room.

"General Acacius." you nodded. “I didn't think the Emperor would send you, but maybe it's better. At least death will be quick.”

Has your voice trembled? Your heart was trying to jump out of your chest like it was a little creature, you must have forgotten how to breathe. Every second lasted an hour.

And Marcus? You saw his chest heave with each deep breath that filled his lungs. The hand still gripped the sword blade tightly as if they were one. Even the fire in his eyes and the ferocity of his rush into your house didn't scare you as much as his silence.

"Marcus?"

"You already know?" he croaked.

"Yes, I know. And I'm really glad it's you..."

The loud clang of a sword falling to the floor made you almost jump. In one brief moment, this strong and powerful man walked up to you and fell to his knees, hugging your legs and burying his face in the folds of your robe.

"I just found out. I was rushing to you, afraid it would be too late and I wouldn't see you again." he muttered, "Gods! You don't know how scared I was."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, tenderly tangling your fingers in his soft and damp hair.

"So it's not you?"

"I would rather stab myself with a sword a thousand times than ever lay a finger on you. How could I? Tell me how could I?"

"Who did the Emperor send?"

"I don't know, but if he shows up here, I'll cut him to pieces as soon as he looks at you."

Marcus stood up and you saw that his eyes, although shiny, glared at you with fury. He was a brilliant general, whom thousands of legionaries would follow into fire, and whom all Rome's enemies feared, but you... You knew the real him.

When you met General Acacius for the first time, you felt repulsed by him. A strong and portly man, dressed in white and gold. Favorite of Rome and the Emperor. His skin was kissed by the sun and his brown eyes could tell you about the hundreds of places he had seen.

Maybe this is what fate and the Gods wanted? You couldn't fight it because the reward was so sweet.

His lips roaming your body. Strong hands exploring every inch of your skin and bringing out the sweetest sounds to his ears. The breaths were one and the bodies fit together so perfectly that there was no doubt in your mind. You were meant to be together from the very beginning. Since the beginning of the world.

But you couldn't talk about it openly. Not when wars were still raging in the far reaches of the Empire and Marcus had to serve your Emperor.

But he's finally back, right? He was again a hero loved by crowds. His name was heard on the lips of the inhabitants like a prayer, like a sweet song.

Marcus Acacius, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Acacius.

His warm hands held your face as he rested his forehead against yours.

"I was talking to the Emperor. He was telling me about it with amusement, and I felt like... Fuck! I had so many thoughts in my head, I thought I might explode." he said quietly.

"Hush, honey." you whispered, placing your fingers gently on his lips, he kissed them without thinking, "We knew this would happen. It was just a matter of time..."

"I should tear Claudius apart with my bare hands." Marcus hissed furiously, "But we still have time. There's still something else we can do."

He pulled his face away and looked at your weak smile playing on your lips.

"I will speak to the Emperor." he said in a determined voice, "I'll convince him that..."

"Claudius is his friend." you interrupted him, "You can't..."

"And I am the hero of Rome. Haven't you heard what the people say? The Emperor will give me what I want."

"And what do you want?"

He didn't have to answer anything. When his lips crushed against yours, that was his answer. He kissed you madly, like he was fighting for every breath, like you only had this one moment. You were falling apart in his arms into a thousand pieces. How could you feel dead when Marcus actually made you live? He was your sun, your everything, more than life.

"You can't go to war with the Emperor, with all of Rome, just for one woman." you stuttered, intoxicated by him. “This is insane.”

"You're more than all this. Take it." Marcus pressed his ring into your hand. “I will tell the Emperor that we were married secretly.”

"Marcus..."

"He may be mad, but I can handle it. I will say that we did this before I left. You were married when Claudius courted you. You didn't break any law."

"I can't."

"You have no other choice, Y/N. I won't let you die, do you understand? Even if I have to fight the entire Empire, I will drown it in blood for you."

And you knew Marcus was telling the truth. You pulled him towards you, kissing him deeply. If this was to be your last time, you were grateful for that hope.

"Expect a rider." he said as he picked up the sword from the floor. "If I fail, I will send a trusted man to you. Then you will leave Rome. As far as you can."

"And you?"

"I will find you. No matter what, I will find you." he walked up to you, kissing you one last time. "If everything goes well, I'll come to you myself."

"I trust you, Marus. With all my heart."

"I know. Stay safe, love."

And he left, leaving you completely devastated. You were still clutching his gold ring, your last hope.

Marcus' plan was crazy and you knew it. The Emperor would have to be in a really good mood to believe the story about your secret wedding. Will this enrage him? Even so, he could only take your life. And what would life be without the love you carried in your heart? You were more afraid for Marcus, for his life, for him not to do something stupid.

"Your love is making me crazy." he whispered to you so many times at night.

Eventually you will meet again someday. In this life or another. This is what the Gods wanted, this is what fate wanted.

You couldn't fight it.

General Marcus Acacius surrendered the moment his eyes first landed on you. He was powerless. He made you his Queen and you couldn't refuse him. He was like wine, like incense in the temple, which numbs the senses. He was your beginning and your end. You were grateful to the Gods for this love, but you were also willing to give it up to keep Marcus alive. You were...

The sound of hooves echoed in the yard. You pressed Marcus' ring to your lips and placed it on your finger in anticipation.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[waevrs]

ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟ

Pairings: ShieldAgent! Natasha x ShieldAgent!Fem! Reader

Summary: Part two of compromised. Y/N recovers quickly from her injuries but she finds out something about Natasha that could put their relationship at risk. What will happen?

Warnings: Mention of abuse, Injury mention.

Parts: 1 // 2 // 3

My eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the sudden light and the plain walls of the med-bay.

Not dead yet.

I groaned and sit up as someone burst into the room.

"Oh, thank god! I-We thought we lost you." Tony panted and embraced me in a hug. He had become like an older brother to me during my time here.

"Not to rain on your parade or anything but," he pulled away abruptly "Fury said you're off of missions indefinitely."

"What?!" I yelled, despite waking up for the first time in who-knows-how-long.

"He said that you're too reckless and you're always getting hurt so having you on the field is a liability." He revealed, scratching the back of his head.

"What the fuck?!" I growled, throwing my head back into the pillows.

"Hey, I'm only the messenger." He raised his hands in surrender. Just then, Bruce walked in with his clipboard and asked Tony to leave. I jolted up in the bed and swung my legs off of the side.

"I see the way you look at Romanoff." He mouthed to me. I flipped him off and he winked before strutting out of the door.

"Are you alright? No pain or discomfort?" Bruce asked. I shook my head no. I wanted nothing more than the comfort of my warm bed.

"Really?" He asked, unusually shocked.

"Yeah, why?" I chuckled, taking a sip of the water that was on the table next to me.

"You were out for 4 weeks."

"WHAT?!" I spat out the water that was in my mouth. Bruce passed me a napkin and I wiped myself down.

"And during that period I noticed something...off about you." He announced. I look at him confused and he continues.

"Your body seems to have double the amount of cells a normal human has...Maybe that explains why you don't feel your injuries." He started to ramble. Before I can say anything he interjected.

"Do you mind if I do some tests?"

"Uh...Sure." I muttered, unsure as to why he still wanted to test me after finding that out.

In about an hour or so, Bruce wrapped up all the tests he wanted to do on me and was taking them down to the lab, leaving me to drown in my loneliness.

"Hey Bruce, where's Nat?" I asked him before he left.

"Uhm..." He stuttered, surprised by the sudden topic of Natasha "She's on a mission."

"Oh, thank you."

He sent me a small smile and walked out of the room. I sighed and decided to ask JARVIS where exactly she was, seeing as she was injured she shouldn't be allowed to go on another mission.

"Hey JARVIS? Can you find Natasha for me?" I spoke into the air.

"Miss Romanoff seems to be on a stakeout mission with her boyfriend." The A.I replied.

"Would you like me to let her know that you're awake?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." I murmured.

Boyfriend? How come I didn't know about her boyfriend? I guessed Tony didn't know either or he wouldn't of said, well mouthed, what he did earlier. There was a stabbing pain in my heart and I hated it. I was actually very much in pain from my injuries so this new pain in my heart made it ten times more unbearable.

"JARVIS, one more thing. Call Tony."

"On it Miss L/N."

"What's up pipsqueak?" I heard Tony's voice echo in the room that I was in. I heard things clanging in the background so I guessed he was in the workshop.

"Did you know about Natasha's boyfriend?" I whispered. It was quite embarrassing that I was asking.

"No, I just found out. Why? Are you jealous?" He pouted teasingly.

"I-No. Did she say anything about me? You know, when I was out?" I asked and tried to hide the smile that threatened to break onto my face.

"Aww is little Y/N is love?" He continued to tease.

"Tony." I deadpanned as a warning.

"Yeah, yeah fine. No actually. She hasn't spoken to anyone but her boyfriend and spent the last 3 and a half weeks locked in her room, a little like you really." He told me, occasionally grunting due to working on something.

"Oh..."

"Personally, I think you should just ask her out." He added and although I can't see his smug face, I can tell he was smirking.

"Riiight. Because you're suddenly the connoisseur of love." I rolled my eyes, sarcasm lacing my voice.

"So you are in love with her!"

"Tony! I am not!"

"You totally are! I can hear the giddiness in your voice!"

"Ugh fine! I am in love with her! Okay?" I gave in and announced. I was a little shocked I came out to him like that. I always pictured it over a fancy dinner or something.

"Wait...you are? I-I was kidding." Tony sounded, utterly confused. He was probably scratching the back of his head, something he did on the rare occasion that he got confused.

"Yes. I like her, a lot." I sighed and retreated to my pillows, stuffing my head in them.

"I don't know what advice to give to you, pipsqueak." He muttered under his breath.

"Don't say anything, I'm coming to you." I decided, pushing myself off of the bed and hobbling towards the door, clutching the stitches on my abdomen. How I got that wound? I have no clue.

"No! Wait! You can't get up-"

"JARVIS, hang up the call."

I sighed and limped my way down to the workshop. Pushing open the door, I said something before he did.

"I know, she's in a relationship and I should of told her before but I don't think she's gay, Tony."

"Ohhh she's gay alright." Tony chuckled.

"No, she told me- How are you so sure?" I asked and took a seat beside him while he was working on a suit.

"Trust me. I have good gaydar." He assured smugly.

"Tony. You have to be gay to have gaydar. You're a straight man in a straight- wait..." I began.

"..."

I looked up at him in shock.

"TONY! WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!" I half-yelled, jumping up and down like a little kid.

"I wasn't because I'm with Pep." He mumbled shyly, which shocked me because this was very unlike him.

We talked about how we found out we were gay, well bi in his case, and people we thought were definitely closeted. He brought up Natasha and I immediately brushed that off and told him all the times I've flirted and she completely freaked out.

"Definitely closeted." He nodded.

"Tony." I looked at him disappointed. Why does he think that?

"I'm just saying!" He defended "Maybe she freaked out on you because she realised she has those feelings for you and she doesn't know how to deal with them."

I hummed to let him know that I was listening and he continued.

"It happens to the best of us. Maybe she thinks that the team won't accept her."

"So that explains why every time I flirted with her she went and slept with any random man in the same night." I huffed sarcastically and raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, actually. She could be trying to block out the things she feels for you because she's scared what the others will think." He suggested, finishing up what he was working on.

"The big bad Black Widow? Afraid what other people think of her? Bullshit." I scoffed. I couldn't believe what Tony was trying to say.

"She may seem like a heartless bitch, but honestly she's a big softie." He laughed and I couldn't help the smile that broke onto my face.

"Aww you're smiling." Tony teased me for like the fifth time that day.

"Shut up." I pouted and hit his shoulder playfully.

A comfortable silence set between us. Well, silence apart from Tony's AC/DC music playing in the background while he worked. I sat in the chair swinging my legs until he handed me two bracelets, one that lets me bring up JARVIS' database to help me with cases, and another one that allowed me to equip my new suit with the press of the button on the bracelet.

"Woah, thanks Tony. I don't know what to say." I thanked him and gave him a hug.

"Thank me when you and Romanoff are together." He winked at me and went back to working on something. That man was always working.

"I'll see you later Tony." I smiled and hobbled my way out of the workshop and back to where I was supposed to be, the med-bay. I turned the corner and continued on my way.

"Babe. I told you I'm fine. I dealt with them, didn't I."

My head shot up when I heard her voice. She was battered and bruised and obviously hurting but she was being as stubborn as always. My eyes then travelled to the man who stood next to her.

And I froze.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Natasha was with him of all people.

All the memories came flooding back, what he'd do to me if he didn't like what I said.

I never would have thought that I would end up dating him. It began with passion and excitement, just like any other romantic relationship. The relationship, however, developed down a dark and sinister path that I could not have anticipated.

At first, he was kind and considerate, admiring and flattering me. But he quickly began to show his true colours. He became obsessive and domineering, insisting on knowing every detail of my existence. He shut me off from my friends and family, making me feel like he was the only person I had left. He slowly destroyed my confidence by criticising my accomplishments and making me doubt my worth.

The emotional abuse was relentless. He manipulated my emotions, making me feel guilty for his own shortcomings and failures. His words cut like knives, leaving me feeling small and powerless. I became trapped in a cycle of fear, always walking on eggshells, afraid of setting him off.

As the relationship progressed, the abuse escalated to physical violence. His anger would explode without warning, and I would bear the brunt of his rage. The bruises and scars I carried became a painful reminder of the pain he inflicted upon me. I lived in constant fear, never knowing when the next outburst would occur.

Leaving him was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made. The process of breaking free from his control was filled with obstacles and challenges. Even after we ended the relationship, he continued to harass and stalk me, invading my privacy and making me feel unsafe.

Rebuilding my life after such a traumatic experience has been a long and arduous journey. I've sought therapy and support to heal the emotional wounds and regain my sense of self-worth. It has taken time to learn to trust again, to believe that I deserve love and respect.

I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Natasha was dating...

My psycho, abusive ex.

[mixelation]

so i think the order of events in (a)synchronicity is this. btw this is going to fully lean into shinigami shenanigans incuding...... sexy shenanigans

minato saves tori and she decides she is going to kill him

tori makes minato soup

some other stuff happens including minato tracking her back down and her breaking minato's arm

minato is obsessed with her now

over the course of this tori has been killed a few times to really drive home what happens when she "dies"

jiraiya and kushina both promise minato they will help him get laid

minato is reporting on tori at the beginning but he lapses and fails to communicate adequately to anyone how deadly she is. he's in love, okay, and the only people he respects are egging him on

he kills a bunch of people at her request and tori decides she DOES like him back. this isn't even the "kill one thousand iwa-nin in one go" thing btw

the "kill one thousand iwa-nin in one go" thing happens and it's not even on konoha's orders. minato just does this to get his girlfriend back. he's super happy about it too because now they're together <3

konoha is finally like: wait. wait what the F U C K

hiruzen is like: drop yur girl and take this genin team and minato is like: no i can do both >:(

konoha goes to check out tori but she's just. some. lady????

and so konoha is like. oh my god, the yellow flash has completely lost it. let's wok him to death

and then that DOESN'T WORK

konoha decides the solution is to kill tori. but they want to send minato a lesson because he's actively ignoring direct orders to dump her and they can't let him realize they actually can't stop him from doing whatever he wants.

so the plan is: use jiraiya to distract minato with a mission. kill tori and physically cut the hiraishin marker off her skin. then move her somewhere and mutilate her corpse for the "lesson" part. thy'd prefer to mutilate her FIRST but also they don't know if she has a way to summon minato. so the priority is to kill her and get the marker off

however jiraiya is not stupid and also he's a nice guy who really does want to get minato laid. he realizes something is up after minato says something incongruent with something hiruzen said to him

minato show up just in time to see tori is freshly dead, and then all the konoha-nin still on the scene just. die? he didn't even do anything???

tori flips out bc the shinigami si still possessing her and it gets ~greedier~ every time she dies but she LIKES minato and NOT HIM--!

the shinigami is like: you know what. you're right. even though i'm perpetually starving, this guy is the only one who's ever filled me.

and then the shinigami is like: in want him inside us though, right now

tori: minato. fuck me. right now minato, confused and overjoyed and also sensing something is weird and terrible: you were DEAD??? tori: i'm fine. we want you to. minato: all the grass around you is dead

jiraiya has been completely ignored in this and he's run off to hunt down someone from the konoha team who went off as a messenger. jiraiya takes him captive to come back to tori alive again and doing. whatever the fuck that is

minato instinctively kind of knows what happened and he's freaked out but also. that's his cute girlfriend and someone stabbed a senbon through her neck. :<

they get the full story out of jiraiya's captive

this is some sort of moral turning point. tori decides she does want minato for forever, and to do that she'll have to end the war and maybe konoha itself. minato suddenly finds his faith in his own village tanked. jiraiya is beginning to suspect hooking up with tori is a bad idea

also

tori: please? pleeeease?

minato, in tears: no i'm NOT going to choke you to death in bed to have kinky shinigami sex

tori: i have never been hornier for you though :<

minato: (sobbing)

and maybe

tori: hey if the shinigami kills everything but you while we do it. do you think you're shooting blanks or what

minato: please stop trying to run experiments on my dick

[playername-player-of-games]

You didn't want her to see you like this.

You peel your eyes open at the shouting- spotting a blur of purple and green as your sister descends from the sky on glimmering magic wings that remind you of a shooting star. There's a fury in her face that melts into worry as she stumbles to land in front of you. You did not control where you fell, but you recognize the walls- you're in one of the Blood Wells, a tear the demon left in the earth. Red mist clings to her clothes as she reaches out to cradle your face in her hands.

"Gem-" you cough, wishing you could hide the blood dripping down your chin, wishing the horror in her eyes would go away, please, why is it always there, every time she's looked at you for months, "Gem, I'm okay."

Tears stream down her cheeks and the Look she gives you might as well be your mother looking down at you with her hands on her hips, disappointment dripping from her every gesture, right down to the arch of her brow. Gem's anger is louder than your mother's ever was. She doesn't believe you. That's fair. (You don't really believe you either.)

"I'm fine," you stress, as your limbs ache and your back wails in agony and white-hot pain shoots through you at every point, (like the demon is in your mind again but this time it's a million times worse). You cough, blood splattering on your hands- on her hands- your lungs rattle. Why are you unlucky enough to be a vampire that breathes?

"Fwhip," your sister says, and oh gods, she sounds like she's underwater, (that can't be good), and you try to be a good brother and keep your eyes open, but it hurts, it hurts, it hurts-

"I'm okay," you say again, weak even to yourself, but you interrupted her and she glares and you obediently snap your mouth shut. Then open it again. You need to breathe, unfortunately, and each raspy breath passes through your throat like claws scraping on a chalkboard.

She's saying something. Magic maybe? Your eyes close. Fireworks are exploding across your skin, the pins and needles thick and unrelenting. No wonder she came so quickly, she could probably hear your screams from the Crystal Cliffs without need for a messenger.

"You're gonna be okay," she murmurs, closer to your ear now, watery and trembling. There's movement by your fingers that feels like her hand holding yours. It hurts. You don't let go.

She's murmuring something- a spell, you think, recognizing the shape of ancient grimmish as it passes her lips- and the stabbing, relentless pain begins to melt, passing over you like waves on a shoreline. Manageable. Quiet. But not gone.

You still can't open your eyes.

Your sister grips your hand. She's crying, (again. Why do you always make her cry?), as another spell passes her lips. The ocean waves seem to press in then, kneading you like dough. You can't open your eyes. You're falling asleep. You can't help it. You don't know where you're going to wake up. You're scared to wake up.

Your sister holds your hand, pressing her lips to your forehead.

"You're okay," she sobs, "you're gonna be okay."

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Tag Game: Writing Pattern

Thank you to @writer-of-worlds for the tag!

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Gently tagging @fourwingedwriter @stargazer-luna @blackrosesandwhump @annakayy @elizaellwrites and open tag! :D

Here goes nothing!

June of Doom Day 1

Whumpee sprinted blindly through the thicket, hands uselessly trying to protect their face from the branches that whipped and stung at their skin.

Victoria Rescues Sam

“I wish to speak with Blizzard."

Killian Poison Ficlet

In hindsight, Killian should’ve expected something to go wrong.

Gunblade Duo Used as Bait Oneshot

The trek back through Zariya was even more tense than the initial trip.

Moonlight

The moonshadow elf had been following Jin for some time now.

First Meeting

First contact happened the night Diana decided against going out to play for the nearby inn.

Getting Stabbed Hurts, Who'd have thought? (Magician's Bait, Part 6)

Reese’s head pounded like her skull was being used as a child’s drum set.

Cinderheart

Jin was surrounded by darkness, no longer the angry, invincible, uncontrollable monster but herself before the painful transformation.

Please Don't Kill the Messenger

Octavian moved quickly through the forest, following an old deer path south.

Whumpril Day 8, Day 16

Whumpee could feel the cough rising in their chest, the unbearable tickling, burning sensation in their throat as they held it back.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dave Maass and Patrick Lay’s “Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis”

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

"The Emperor of Atlantis," is an opera written by two Nazi concentration camp inmates, the librettist Peter Kien and the composer Viktor Ullmann, while they were interned in Terezin, a show-camp in Czechoslovakia that housed numerous Jewish artists, who were encouraged to make and display their work as a way of proving to the rest of the world that Nazi camps were humane places.

Of course, it was all a sham. Like nearly all of Terezin's inmates, Kein and Ullmann were eventually shipped to Auschwitz to be murdered. "The Emperor" was never performed during their life, but the manuscript, written on scrounged paper (including the backs of other inmates Auschwitz transfer papers) survived.

In the decades since, "The Emperor" has been mounted a few times, with varying degrees of faithfulness. But those live performances were limited to the people who could attend them during their limited run. Now, a new graphic novel called Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis, brings the work to us all:

https://www.darkhorse.com/Blog/3726/berger-books-and-dark-horse-comics-present-death-s

Death Strikes was adapted by my EFF colleague Dave Maass, an investigator and muckraker and brilliant writer, who teamed up with illustrator Patrick Lay and character designer Ezra Rose (who worked from the Kein and Ullmann's original designs, which survived along with the score and libretto).

The tale is set in the mythical kingdom of Atlantis, where the reclusive emperor has been holed up in an armored tower for decades, directing a forever war, greeting each battlefield report with fresh orders, all the while carefully scheming to maintain his grip on power by prolonging the war footing among his people.

But the Emperor has a problem: he's won the war. Every enemy has fallen. Without endless war, his system of social control will shrivel and he will be vulnerable to his people. So the Emperor declares a new war of all against all, announcing that it is every citizen's duty to make war on their neighbors. Problem solved!

But the Emperor goes too far. In announcing his new war, he directs his messengers – drum-beating automata who march through the streets of Atlantic rapping out his edicts – to claim that Death himself has blessed this new war, and "when the final drum sounds, our old friend DEATH, our flag-bearer, will raise his sword in salute to our great future!"

For Death – a swordbearing skeleton in a soldier's greatcoat and shako – this is too much. The Emperor's endless wars have already tried Death's patience. Death brings mercy, not vengeance, and the endless killing has dismayed him. The Emperor's co-option drives him past the brink, and Death declares a strike, breaking his sword and announcing that henceforth, no one will die.

Needless to say, this puts a crimp in the Emperor's all-out war plan. People get shot and stabbed and drowned and poisoned, but they don't die. They just hang around, embarrassingly alive (there's a great comic subplot of the inability of the Emperor's executioners to kill a captured assassin).

The Emperor will not be denied. He embarks upon a war of wills with Death, to see who will give in first. The surreal tale plays out among the people of Atlantis, the living and the undead, as they struggle to fight a war where no one can die. The tale cuts between these people, the Emperor, and Death, who is in company with Life, a sad harlequin who is even more demoralized than Death by the Emperor's long war.

What follows is a tale of revolution and love and hope snatched from despair.

Maass discovered "The Emperor" through a bargain bin CD of "degenerate music" he found in a suburban Best Buy in the 1990s, which was accompanied by illustrations by Art Spiegelman:

https://www.allmusic.com/album/the-music-survives%21-degenerate-music-music-suppressed-by-the-third-reich-mw0000711660

Maass found a six-panel cartoon Kein drew "expressing his frustration with the evolution of his libretto." Over the years, Maass turned this little strip over and over in his head, until he found himself travelling to Prague with Lay, where they were able to handle the surviving manuscript pages. After consulting with experts all over the world, Maass and Lay and their collaborators created this extraordinary graphic novel, updating it, queering it, and lavishly illustrating it.

While this is clearly an adaptation, Kein and Ullmann's spirit of creativity, courage, and bittersweet creative foment shines through. It's a beautiful book, snatched from death itself.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/23/peter-kien-viktor-ullmann/#terezín

[most-datable-datable-bracket]

BONUS POLL 3

Anti propaganda warning under the cut

V anti propaganda:

"- This man is so undatable, he's barely present in his own route or after end.

- The martyr complex this dude has is legitimately arrogant, taking blame for something you don't have control over isn't noble, it's just self-sabotaging. Taking blame for shit you do have control over and CHOOSING to change nothing makes the apology worthless. 🙃

-How does a man this rich have the balls to be so dumb? Bro, your bestie is also rich af and was gifted a fuckin island as a kid, why didn't you take the abused little ginger boys there for safety instead of shuffling one into a shady agency and the other to your increasingly unhinged gf who is waist-deep in setting up her cult?? Jumin would have had his back and V didn't even give him the chance to prove it!!

- This man chose to pursue a relationship with a woman who is mentally unstable and let himself become her whole world bc he felt guilty for treating his own disabled mother poorly. When you boil it down, this man chose a woman as a project and proposed to her within months instead of getting therapy for himself. 🫠

- V also lied to his and said gf's friends and family, telling them she committed suicide instead of turning her into the police for starting a cult, leading to the severe depression of her younger cousin and allowing her to continue drugging and brainwashing one of the twins he smuggled along with possibly hundreds of other people.

- When confronted over this, he still resists turning Rika into the police. For contrast, the younger cousin who idolized her immediately restrained her, stopped her from slipping party guests drugged wine and got the police on her. He is a 28 year old man and left the task to her 21 year old cousin who has had the emotional whiplash of finding out that not only was he right about V lying, but Rika is alive, AND she is very mentally unwell and has committed some major crimes.

- V is also mentally unstable af. In other routes, not just bad ends, he also returns to HELP HIS GF DO CULT SHIT.

- This is just subjective, but this wet mop of a man is also boring as shit which is why Cheritz kept him mostly vague and stuck to the background. If you want the fucked up relationship dynamics, just get one of the bad ends with Rika tbh, she at least serves lewks with her brand of crazy cunt.

- in short, you will never be in an equal partnership with this man and he won't be held accountable. The one time he tried, he said some pretty obviously triggering things to the crazy gf and got stabbed. He did not have the foresight to come with backup, announce where he would be, etc. He lived only because the gf that stabbed him calls you to come help him while she's still spiraling out of control.

I say this with full respect to the V fans, who are well aware that this man is an absolute mess and needs so much therapy before he's anywhere in the realm of salvaging his friendships, much less being dateable."

Baxter anti propaganda:

"baxter ward has a summer fling with you, which is fine because you agree to date only for the summer. however, when the time comes to break up, he does so in like the most brutal fashion possible. there was no need to be that much of a dick about it. he then proceeds to ghost you for five years.

five years later, when you meet once again, he opts to ignore you at best and continue being a dick at worst for the first half of step 4. there's no reason anyone should desire to get back together with the man. he needs therapy, not a partner."

[unusual-ly]

Ian Taylor was always a rambunctious child, and a bit of a troublemaker, no different than any other boy his age in Croydon. When he is hired as the earl’s new servant, all he thinks will come of it is money for his struggling family, new friendships with the other staff, and a chance to see what life is like for the wealthy. What he gets, however, is broken.

Prologue: Ian learns something about his time working for the earl; he was doomed from the start

Ask to be tagged in future updates!

Please reblog/review/comment/tag~!

[steviewashere]

Return to Sender

Slaps you in the face with this chapter of my new fic, Return to Sender. Which I will update every Saturday, or at least attempt to. Different first meetings, strangers to friends to lovers to strangers (and then endgame). Hope you enjoy, I'll add tags when necessary.

Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove (A Warning in Itself), Eddie Munson (E.M.)

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

General Audiences (May Change, but Will Not be Explicit)

Tags: Pre-Season 2, Rewriting Canon, Though Keeping to Main Canon Events (i.e. Steve getting roped into finding Dart, Billy smashing in Steve's face, The junkyard, etc.)

Expanded from This Post!

Next Part is Out! ------>

Enjoy <3

------- Steve picks up a little piece of paper that somebody shoved inside the grates of his locker door. It's folded, crumpled, creased and stained. He glances around. If the messenger just left this, they must still be around, right? At the bathrooms, nobody stands. Or at the narrow opening that floods into the main hall of Hawkins High. Or even peeking from under the stairwell. He runs his thumb over the paper. It's soft, most likely worn down from being held onto for so long. From being in somebody's pocket. Pressed up against the radiating warmth from their naked thigh. Possibly held between their fingers, twirling and folding in the gaps.

Does he open it? He's curious, he should. But what if it's another one of Tommy's pranks, which have increased tenfold since they stopped being friends. What if it's Carol giving him a fill-in on gossip he no longer wants a slice of? Or...What if it's Nancy apologizing? He shakes his head at that. What does she shave to apologize for, he questions himself. If anybody should say sorry, it would be me.

Basketball practice is in ten minutes. He's got his sweatbands on. Retied his sneakers. Changed into shorts and a particularly revealing muscle tank. Slathered on deodorant, lip balm, and baby powder to prevent chafing on his thighs. He's ready to go. Gotta go, he hastily thinks.

But...

The note. Somebody left it just for him.

Oh, but what if it's to tease him? To poke fun at the fact that he lost his girlfriend to somebody the whole school deems as his rival. To laugh at the new cut near his hairline, pink and puckered, laughing at his inability to fight back (parents teach their kids the damndest things). From that insufferable guy, Billy, that's barreled in through town from California and shoved him on the spikes of his King Steve crown. From that band girl with choppy strawberry blonde hair that's always too observant. From somebody else...somebody who wants to see him bend over, gasp for air that's too sharp and fleeting, and cry with nothing else to do.

He blearily thinks, Fuck it. He thinks, Men don't cry. Though the voice is his father's and they're almost the same in intonation, does it matter who's ridiculing him? He thinks, I just want to go home and rest.

It unfolds without him willing. The paper still soft, not yet agitating his palms. Gently torn around the edges. Blue pen glowing up at him. He takes a breath and reads.

"You seem haunted. But you're lovely. I hope you find peace soon, Steve. -E.M."

Steve's watch beeps at him. Time to shoot some hoops. And all the while he will think, Who the hell is E.M.?

---- He's at the three point line practicing his free throws. Back wet with sweat. Hair drooping over the sweatband around his forehead, the prickly ends threatening to stab his eyelids. The ball is in his grip just under the tip of his nose. He gives it another couple dribbles for luck. Poises to shoot.

Just as his arms flex, he goes tumbling down to the ground. A thump across the waxed gymnasium floor. His head misses, thankfully, but the rest of him is in a gigantic sore heap. Limbs splayed out around him. The basketball bouncing off somewhere to his right. And the impact scared him into shutting his eyes. Opening them, blearily and blinking fast, he realizes he's now nose to calf with that asshole, Billy Hargrove.

The guy—broad, tall, muscular with an ugly shaggy mullet and a permanent sneer to his lips—has been consistently knocking Steve down. Whether it be on the court, as it is right now. Out on the track in gym class. In the hallways, slamming Steve's left shoulder into the closed locker doors, enough he swears it dislocated at least a couple times. Even once in the parking lot; leaving a ding on the trunk of Steve's BMW. It's one of the nicer things he owns and it made him see red the way the metal was dented in. He'd tried to fight back against Billy, but that ended up with him and a blood nose. He's retired all efforts in making this guy leave him alone. Too pussy to be the first to throw a fist. Too smarmy to confront a teacher.

Steve groans and tries to sit up, but is promptly shoved back down by the bottom of one of Billy's sneakers. He hears from above, "Fucking stay out of my way, Harrington." And then his presence is gone. Footsteps, heavy and quick, making their way away from Steve's supine, sweaty, adrenaline leaking body.

He successfully sits up with the next groan and gasp from his lips. Rubs a firm hand on the small of his back. And decides, Fuck this. Rising from the ground is no ambitious feat. And choosing to barrel past his coach, give him the finger, slam the locker room door behind him, take a quick hot shower, and reclothe himself in a usual school outfit—none of that is ambitious either. It's freeing, in a way.

Sure, he loves basketball. Loves gym class. Loves working out in general. He's been on a basketball team every year since he was seven years old. Watches games from the middle cushion of his parent's three-seater sofa. Skims through Sports Illustrated every chance he gets. Has assisted with little league teams and the junior varsity tryouts annually since freshman year—always there to encourage and uplift nervous players, because he had been one once, so he gets it.

But, also, the amount of running up and down the basketball court. The amount of watching from his peripherals. Dodging and very nearly hiding away from other players. It all just reminds him of...Of that stupid flower-faced motherfucker that tumbled through the Byers' place. All the trouble for wanting to apologize. Now he's more scarred than a pink eraser some distracted kid uses in math class—puncture wounds in his brain where the images of blood, snarling saliva, and twirling some weaponized bat are permanently flashing. All the time. In his waking existence and in his sleep.

Playing on the sports teams also comes with expectations. Not from his peers. Or friends. Not even the coaches. But, rather, his parents. And damn it, if being bullied off the court is a way to try and get them off his back, then he'd fucking take being roped by his ankles and shook like a can of pop for his lunch money. He thinks, Fuck what they think. Fuck what the coach thinks. And fuck Billy Hargrove.

When he's finally out of the locker room and back at his everyday locker, he notices another little white paper making a minor appearance. It's a fresh piece. From the way it's bright in the light and sharp around the edges in his hands. Even the blue pen marks are smeared slightly, as if the person—E.M.—was in a rush to get away. To not be caught.

It reads now:

"I'll charge that dickwad more for his weed. It's fucking stupid that he thinks he rules the school now. Hargrove gave one of my friends a swirly last week. Tried to dump my lunch earlier today. Don't worry, Steve, I'll drain him for more than he's worth. -E.M."

His hand falls away, note still gripped, and slams against his thigh. Runs a hand down his damp face. And becomes dizzy with the implication of the last line; or at least, his interpretation.

Now, Steve's smoked before. Came home one time from the quarry smelling like it and knew what it was like to be caught by a ring on the face when he'd walked through his front doors. But...that had been weed that Tommy's cousin brought around during the summer they were in town. Steve isn't aware of anybody in Hawkins who would be dealing. And, if he's honest, marijuana isn't a top choice for unwinding. He prefers a beer or a cigarette, something that won't leave a trail of evidence behind.

So, now he's aware that somebody—a stranger—is watching him from a distance. Somebody who goes to school with him. Somebody who deals drugs, maybe even does them. And...their initials are E.M.

He almost wants to shout out for the person to make themself known. But the mystery behind it all is intriguing, to say the least. Like they're playing hard to get. And, Steve doesn't usually go after people that make anything—friendship or romantic relationships—hard on him, but the lack of info, the observance, the knowing somebody has their eyes on and out for him...

Well, that makes something stir in his gut.

And he doesn't know what that says about him. To be swooning, slightly, for somebody without a face. Somebody who could be a stalker if he thinks about it. They're protective, though. And that's not something Steve usually gains from somebody else.

It's frustrating, though, not knowing who this person is. Maybe if he can ask around, maybe get Billy to slip up about his smoking habits.

He wants to put a face to this mystery person.

Wants to...see if they're just as attractive as their instincts.

--------

Next Part is Out! ------>

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 4: Blood

He didn't expect to be stabbed.

Everything seemed to be going so well, before that.

He WAS able to help Bowser, slowly going over each mineral, ore, and alloy they knew, and somehow built a plan for industrial-based jobs.

He HAD been able to make friends -or at least acquaintances that don't immediately associate him with his brother. And yes, the Head Cook (a Shyguy named 'Guy Fury') and a barista (a Koopa named 'Talla') counted!

Heck, he SOMEHOW had made good headway with his main job as an Ambassador, even gaining a bit of a reputation as someone to de-escalate the more rowdy politicians.

It should have been enough of a warning, with his track record of bad luck. But the WEEKS leading up to it had been nice! More than nice! It was-

It was good enough to fool him, to think that it could last.

Even though it was only Clawthorne and Dagby accompanying him to the town square, he hadn't felt a bit lonely as they opened up a little about themselves -where their families loved to gather, what is the best cafe to visit, how to find the better food carts...

Maybe it was also why the unknown Koopa was able to get so close.

Maybe it was his fault, in the end, that he hadn't done a thing when that cloaked Koopa got too close and-

He didn't expect the way it burned.

Luigi knew there was a commotion right after -his guard friends reacting too late and the crowd being sent into a frenzy- but the world just seemed to shrink on him-

The -knife? It was out, and the large gash in his stomach was heavily bleeding red- it hurts to try closing his hand around it hurts to breathe ithurtsithurts--

He's looking at the ground, maybe sitting, but he's focused on how something in his stomach shifts and how his hand couldn't grip anything hisbloodistooslippery---

His memories afterward were a blur, a flash of images and sensations that were hard to piece together.

He couldn't help but feel guilty at the panicked faces of his guards it wasn't their fault and feel dizzy and cold as they desperately tried to haul him- somewhere?

He said something to them, something that seemed to distress them more (he was told, later, that he asked them to tell his brother he was sorry).

He knows there was a commotion at the gates, and maybe some other Ambassadors (recess wasn't over quite yet, but a few had been loitering along the halls anyways) screaming for help.

He swears he saw Bowser, looking- looking scared? Why would... (he wasn't given an answer for that, but he wasn't told he was hallucinating either).

And then it was black.

He wouldn't say it to anyone, especially Mario, but it was a comforting sensation to fall into......

...

His first bouts of consciousness were with the feeling of being too cold, too sluggish, but always succumbing to sleep anyways.

Once, he swore he felt large, familiar hands stroke the back of his hand.

Other times, he swore he heard his brother.

By the time he truly 'woke up', he was alone on a white-sheeted bed, the room generally warm and lined with medical tools that he couldn't name.....

He doesn't feel anything -until he tries to sit up.

It's a twinge -something that, in hindsight, meant medical care even magic- but that and the weakness around it sends him back down gasping into his bed and reality.

He- he just got stabbed.

He could have died -he almost did die, didn't he? Why...?

Did.... did he do something wrong? He thought he was doing good, that he was helping, but.......

Did that mean that his efforts didn't mean anything after all....?

Bowser wouldn't say that Greenie..... no, Luigi was ever an enemy.

Before he became an Ambassador, he would admit that Luigi wasn't even much considered anything, other than a potential messenger for more 'private' letters to Peaches.

And then he denied him.

Sure, Bowser had proposed the idea in jest -especially to see the scandalized looks of the other attending Ambassadors at the time- but he wasn't expecting the way Luigi had seemingly grown a spine in the second he locked eyes with him.

The way he held himself in assurance, how his blue eyes burned so brightly with indignation, how he firmly (without stuttering at all!) yet politely told him to shove it?

Compared to his usual meek demeanor, the way he let his own presence be overlooked and let others look down on him?

It was interesting to Bowser.

But that was all it was, an interest!

And then there was the need for his help.

He would have found some charm in having his own plumber-hero to call on- in sharing something with Peach that no one else could claim to have, but...

All he could feel was despair, then, and a buried awful feeling of helplessness.

THE KOOPA KING WAS NOT HELPLESS DAMN IT! BUT- but...

It didn't mean that he wasn't feeling desperate to find help -not when neither Kammy, Kammik, nor the people in charge of manufacturing couldn't come up with any ideas. Not when there are still many people still pissed off with him and his kingdom right there in his halls.

But Luigi? The one he remembers to have seen cobbling together materials into parts and mods for Karts? The one who is known to be the more tech-savvy of the two Mario Brothers?

He took a bet, confiding in the green bean, but he would rather die than admit how relieved he was for him to not only accept to help him but to prove him right.

To prove to Bowser that he could trust him.

It was more than most people (everyone outside his family) could say they had.

And.... he wasn't sure when they grew close, exactly, but he does remember the man asking quietly, in the middle of another all-nighter, if they were friends.

The question was barely processed when Bowser agreed, and immediately surprised himself when he realized that he meant it.

When was the last time he ever had a friend...?

Regardless, they had definitely become friendly, with the latter being comfortable enough to lounge with him on their spot (the blanket was incredibly comfy). It was nice, in the way few things were for Bowser outside the moments where he wins in the Olympics and spends time with the kids.

It seemed things were getting brighter as they seemed to finally have some answers -even a plan of action for some immediate relief efforts!

And then Luigi was stabbed.

How the fuck could he expect that? Expect that some bumbling idiot got it into their head to stab Luigi -the one guy who actually gives a shit about Bowser's people?

How in the Underwhere was he supposed to expect him to arrive at the gates, bloody and bleeding still and hurriedly dragged in by his guards -WHY THE FUCK DID THEY LET THIS HAPPEN-

What was he supposed to do when Luigi, somehow still awake, looked through him with such empty eyes...?

Kamek was his lifesaver -and Luigi's as he took him with a pink 'poof'.

He hated that he was left there to stare at the blood trail though.

He was quick to snap out orders after that, making the castle have a lockdown (who knows if it's just Luigi that is targeted), and have the staff clean the hall before heading towards the Medical Wing.

Bowser wouldn't be able to tell anyone what he was feeling, to see the aftermath and see his stomach-

But he was aware of making a call to Kammy, to help with the tonics for blood replenishing.

He was aware of the way his blood pounded in his ears as he registered the metallic smell, even after magic has closed up the skin (and put things back).

He was aware of eventually contacting Peach and Mario (not leaving the room, not when-) and getting a sequence of distrust, panic, shock, and even anger (mostly Peach; Mario had still been in a trance looking just as empty as-) and not reacting as he usually would.

He's... not sure how the conversation ended, but he does know that Mario will be coming here and that -for once- neither of them were exactly angry with him either (maybe it was because he offered the offender's head?).

He was aware, after he finally retired to his rooms, that Luigi would likely wake up within a few days -that the magic may have repaired him physically, but........

The day that Luigi woke up, he had been able to down half his breakfast before rejecting a morsel more, and couldn't concentrate on any paperwork before leaving for the Medical Wing.

It was maybe a blessing to have been there, when he heard crying from that room.

He didn't run, but the door slammed open anyway -enough to have the sole occupant of the room squeak -and then whimper in pain.

It didn't help that he saw those blue eyes, red and swollen from crying, scrunch up in agony. It didn't matter that it wasn't physical pain he was feeling -his friend was...

He defaulted to hugging him -if it helped the Koopalings, it would help Luigi too, right?

But having the human curl up into him? Lean in and take shelter as he started to shake in painful sobs? To feel each sob accompanied by a flinch, to hear how desperately Luigi was trying so hard to muffle himself?

It didn't feel like it, not when his friend was falling apart (not when he was smaller and more fragile than he ever was), but Bowser knew he will weather it out anyway. He might have failed in helping his people right away, and failed in making sure this didn't happen at all....

But like hell would he fail Luigi in this.

[doppelcoworker]

[Winnie takes a deep breath, he knew how jasper could get sometimes. The kid was preparing his emotions. He walks into the room with a bouquet and sunflowers. Smiling nervously]

Hey, uncle jas... Sorry about not seeing you- it's a long story. But... If it's okay, I have something from delta.

Don't kill me I'm just the messenger person-

[He hands Jasper a note, when you open it. It reads.]

> [ Hi Uncle Jasper,

I know you're mad at me for what I did to you, but I didn't mean to do it on purpose.

I thought you looked like my biological father, the one who sent me to the orphanage, but my hallucinations keeps on playing tricks on me, and it keeps on getting worse. I couldn't talk to you in person, but I hope you can understand me for what I did. Again, I didn't mean to stab you intentionally, if you finally want to talk, just let me know.

- Delta Blythe. ]

If you have any questions, I'll tell them but, all they told me is to give you this and these.

[He motions towards the flowers.]

( @yourfavoritecousinwinnie )

> [ Jasper is quiet. He's struggling, somehow, torn between his desire to rip the paper in half and throw the flowers as he doesn't need them anymore. On the other hand, though, a compulsion to accept the bouquet and note held him tight—and so he did. ]

> [ The child was hurt, yes. They didn't deserve it. But maybe he was too hard on them. ]

> [ Maybe if he'd just... ]

"Thank you... Win... m-make sure to tell Delta that..."

> [ The words came out like they were foreign to him. What should he say that isn't just a shallow acceptance of his situation? ]

> [ Delta might hate him after this. ]

"... I need more time... please tell them not to approach me until I'm ready."

[fandom-queen-13]

You know what? I feel like I should share my opinion on a TSS Hadestown AU too

This can get kind of long, and I see the sides playing multiple roles depending on what scenarios I think of, so I'm putting it under the cut.

Orpheus: Obviously Roman. A musician who can be a bit naive at times? I don't really see a reason he shouldn't be Orpheus. He's probably the only solid pick I have.

Eurydice: I mostly see Virgil, but Patton can also play that role.

Hermes: OKAY HEAR ME OUT: Both Janus and Remus play the role at the same time. Hermes is a trickster, a traveler, a messenger, and so much more. I don't see why he can't have different "aspects" of himself at the same time.

(bonus scenes in my head: Remus saying "his mother was a friend of mine" because they're twins, Janus letting out the 'secret' of the railroad to help Orpheus get to Eurydice, and I had a firm image of them calling "MR. AND MX. HERMES: THAT'S US!" (oh and Janus is genderfluid in my head))

On the other hand, though, LOGAN as Hermes also scratches an itch in my brain that I didn't know I had. Especially him instructing to Orpheus how to get to Hadestown.

Persephone: Like Eurydice, depending on what scenario I'm thinking of it alternates between Patton and Virgil with a preference for Patton.

HOWEVER: Janus singing Our Lady of The Underground…

Hades: Look, you can fight me on this, but none of the sides really scream Hades to me. Sorry.

The Fates: Ah, now there's a fun one! Janus and Remus are good for two of them, but for the third one? It alternates between Logan (perhaps he has finally been pushed over the edge), Virgil (Dark Sides stick together, right?)...and Orange.

(Also, for the song When The Chips Are Down, I imagine Janus lifting Eurydice's chin up in the lines "Cast your eyes to Heaven..." before pushing it to the side abruptly to look at Orange who screams "Ya get a knife in the back!" with Remus slapping Eurydice on the back like he was stabbing them.)

And yes, that scenario in particular was what encouraged me to make this post.

Anyways, this is just me rambling about my ideas. I hope you enjoyed reading them!

[bunglegaydogs]

Dazai's relationship with pain.

it's another Dazai rant, what the fuck did you expect

Anyways, I've always thought about this and I've been thinking about it a lot more as of recently. This one I can definitely relate to, me and pain also have a bit of a weird relationship lmao.

(Spoilers for Ch. 107, 55 Minutes, The Time I picked Up Dazai, basically just don't read if you haven't like read any of the novels or the manga or any extra content :) )

Firstly, I just wanna talk about his obvious dislike for pain (valid) and the fact that he has verbally stated on multiple occassions how much he really really does not like feeling pain, and there's such a heavy thing on how he wants a quick, easy and painless death.

It's just common knowledge that he has a strong distaste for pain, as he's announced many a time.

But what really gets me is his reactions to it.

He has none.

When Dazai is experiencing pain, he shows absolutely little to no reaction, except when it is shown for comedic relief, like during the Cannibalism Arc when they're in the back of the truck and he's like "Owowowowow don't move around so much, I'm wounded" to Atsushi and Akutaguwa. Or during season 1 when he's in the oil drum, despite him saying "I'm not at all interested in pain and suffering." "This is more a method of torture." and how much it hurts. But other times, he just has no reaction. Monotonous. Stone faced. There are certainly times when he does show how much pain he's in for very valid reason. When Fyodor gets the sniper on him, you can clearly see he's in pain. In the Azure Messenger episode whilst he's being fucking strangled against the window, we obviously see him in pain here. There are so many instances of this. But it also always just seems a bit... underexaggerated. In 55 Minutes, he gets stabbed, and whilst anyone would be like "fuck, this hurts, I've been stabbed through the chest clean through" he was smiling because he was happy, despite him not liking pain. Like??? I can't be the only one who finds it all sus can I? He literally has the most calm reactions to pain ever. In Ch. 107, he's grimacing a bit and is cracking jokes after HE JUST FELL IN A FUCKING ELEVATOR AND BROKE HIS FOOT LIKE HELLO?

The only thing I will say about this is that he looks away and clenches his jaw (I'm guessing that's what the 'clench' means, not his foot) when like assessing whether his foot is broken or not. But, not going to lie, I think that's the most emotion we've seen from him when he's in pain. In Dead Apple, he gets stabbed, and is like "haha sweet I'm dying" (common occurence fr). This is probably just a deluded and sleep-deprived rant but I can't keep this shit in any longer, it's baffling.

I also went deeper down the rabbit hole in another rant I wrote on a fucking WordPad document (that is where all of my rants start, I'm not joking) and likened Dazai to Q and their relationship with pain too. Q obviously has a very high tolerance for pain due to their ability and all, but they still have a fucking limit. They're a child. Strapping them to a tree and making it feel as if they're being sawed down about 600 times at once and stood and stepped on and chopped up is obviously not going to feel fucking great. But, they still have bizarre reactions to pain, such as (TW) having countless razorblades strapped to their arm and smiling as they lift their sleeve up to reveal it, not even batting an eye. Like, I have a really high pain tolerance, but goddamn. That shit is strange. But, they're like Dazai in that regard. During Dazai and Chuuya's first meeting, he literally beats the shit out of him.

Ah, right, okay, so I'm going to explain the three different versions of this, because there's the anime, the manga and the LN. LN of course goes into more detail, but the manga visualises it easily. The anime doesn't go too deep into it, but Chuuya is much more hostile towards Dazai in the LN/Manga.

(ngl love how Chuuya basically calls him 'cool' here, also him realising that Dazai has a personality after saying that? I can't lie, not many people would go along that line of thinking, they'd go the opposite way; I'm fucking definitely going into this in more depth in a different post but anyways)

In the LN, this is obviously their first meeting. Dazai literally fucking soars through the goddamn air, crashes through buildings and debris, rolls down a fucking hill, then gets stomped on by Chuuya. Then his deadass response, "It hurts. I don't like pain, you know." Motherfucker is stone cold. "Dazai's voice remained flat despite being attacked by the enemy and hitting the ground and buildings."

Listen, even Asagiri acknowledges it.

When Chuuya first steps on his fist, he literally is like "yeah this is fine" he literally looks at it "like it was someone else's". This motherfucker-

Also, emphasis on the "full of wounds". Chuuya is stepping on already fresh wounds and crushing them and his fucking bones beneath his foot, yet Dazai's like "mhm".

The next bit though is like finally. "Dazai sounded like he was in pain." Astute observation fr. Anyways, Chuuya fucking boots him and this is like one of the only times we see a normal reaction to pain as he "cries out". And then him "grimacing from the pain" which is once again a valid reaction. What's not valid is that despite Chuuya telling him he's prepared to kick him over and over again, and Dazai saying "yeah I don't like pain" and having a visceral reaction to being kicked like that, but still messing with him regardless knowing that it'll just end up with him in more pain. I fucking can't with this guy.

Mans got booted so hard that he fell and crashed into a fence, yet still is fucking with Chuuya and messing with him. Then, whilst he's been booted again, he STILL fucking taunts him, earning him a swift kick to the face that makes him bleed. He laughs at the pain. This is also a common reaction to pain that we see from him. Remember when Chuuya punched him in Dead Apple during the Dragon's Head Conflict and he just laughed?

Like, he's clearly in a lot of fucking pain from the last sequence of events that just occured, yet he still taunts Chuuya, and ends up getting hurt multiple times like?

Then, in the manga;

His deadpan face, not assed, no emotion.

Like, look at how violent that is. Mans literally winds his fucking leg up for that stomp, and the effect is literally "smash".

We all know how fucking violent and harsh Chuuya's kicks on. Because, despite his gravity not being able to work on Dazai, he can still build momentum to prepare for that kick against him and make is legs faster. I was reading up on how much a kick to the head would hurt/damage you the other day, and there were a lot of things saying "a kick to the torso/back/leg is scary because you need to care more about injuries than pain" and someone was saying that their friend was out of commission for fighting for a year due to a particularly fesity kick to the head that she received, and his other friend was out for six months, and that was martial arts fighting matches where they lessen their impact of their attacks so as not to severely damage their opponent. Apparently, a taekwando spinning back kick has been reported to hit at 1500lbs of force. For reference, a sledgehammer hits at just under 1000lbs of force. So, in a street fight or in a situation where the person attacking is doing so out of malicious intent, this could cause some serious fucking damage.

Yet this man bats not a single eye. He gets kicked, we clearly see him react with the "cough" and his facial reaction, but then, even whilst he's keeled over on the ground, his face returns to it's normal stoic, stoney faced reaction.

Chuuya here kicks him in the face again, and he literally just says "That hurt." with the deadest look in his eyes.

Then, when the Mafia surround him with guns and Dazai's just chilling there, motherfucker just boots him across the face again and knocks that bitch out.

He kicks him so hard that blood is fucking spilling out.

Take note of the kicks I was on about before.

THEN THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS JUST GETTING BACK UP AGAIN IN THE BACKGROUND AND HOLDING HIS FACE LIKE "Ow, that kinda hurt." LIKE NO SHIT?

Once again, absolutely fucking clocked in the torso by Chuuya's kick and is just casually explaining it.

Then, of course, in the anime;

At this point, we do see him kind of grimace before he reverts to his normal deadpan state, to be fair.

Again, stating his disapproval for pain.

Very much so a hard kick, the fucking impact just sounds scary.

You can see the damage from it, yet this motherfucker still just remains as deadpan as ever in the face of pain and adversity.

Amongst all the other differences, this is one of them. In the anime, Dazai sounds more in pain and is shown to be affected more by when Chuuya kicked him than in the manga or the LN.

In the anime, it cuts out a lot of Chuuya just beating the shit out of Dazai lmao.

Like, this entire scene just gets me like "huh?" across all the different media's. We know how strong Chuuya is now, because he's honed it in the mafia and has gotten stronger. However, we also know how strong he is here. The fact that he's the strongest in the Mafia and the most skilled martial artist just shows his sheer strength, and despite him being only fifteen here, he's still fucking powerful, with or without his ability, which we see by when each time we see him fight against Dazai and how he easily overpowers him with sheer strength alone, it's just that Dazai outsmarts him in a battle of wits.

This is most certainly not me calling Chuuya dumb or Dazai weak, it's the fucking opposite and I hate people who deny it. Chuuya is not fucking stupid, he's so smart, he's a Port Mafia executive for a reason, it's just that strength is his strong suit. Dazai is not weak, he's just not as strong as some of the most skilled martial artists in the series. Dazai is fucking strong, again, he wasn't a Port Mafia executive for nothing. He can protect himself. Anwyays, sorry, it just irks me lol.

Anyways, my point is that Chuuya is fucking powerful, in my opinion, the strongest in the series. It shouldn't really be up for debate, not only is his ability powerful, but his physical strength surpasses almost all of the characters. Physical strength alone, he could easily beat Kunikida, Hirotsu (as we've seen), and any combat based character, maybe with the exception of Fukuzawa and Odasaku, however with his ability (again, exception of Odasaku) maybe he'd stand a chance. Because Fukuzawa's ability doesn't help him in combat, it helps him to be a leader. It's just that he is exceptionally proficient in martial arts. Anyway sorry this has turned into me just swooning about how powerful Chuuya is (I still stand by the fact that he wouldn't be able to beat Odasaku, simply because he can literally see the future. However, Corruption is literally OP as fuck, so maybe Odasaku's only option would be to run. Or just wait it out. I don't know, sorry anyway-)

MY POINT IS, CHUUYA IS FUCKING STRONG.

He literally is beating the shit out of Dazai, yet the only reactions we've seen from Dazai are him grimacing, or yelling out in pain when he kicked him real hard in the torso. All other reactions are just him with a stone cold expression in his monotone ass voice.

This was a bit long winded for one scene, I'm so sorry, I just fucking love this scene sm.

Anyways, I've always found Dazai's relationship with pain exceptionally bizarre, simply because of his underwhelming reactions to it, despite him exclaiming his distate for it multiple times over the course of the series. No other character has outright gone "you know I don't like pain, right?" except him. Why? It should be a natural human reaction/instinct to not really enjoy pain, except for when you do (you know what I mean obviously I hope) and so I just get confused when he announces it, yet doesn't move an inch or show any hint or trace of emotion. Pure baffles me, and I love to look into more.

Another scene of note, is when he's captured by the Mafia. Once again, he is provoking Akutaguwa into attacking him. Why? Why the fuck? I've literally always thought this since I watched that scene for the first time; just why? Why, for a man who goes on and on about how much he hates pain, does he provoke anyone and anyone who will clearly hurt him? When he's fighting against that big dude, he once again is provoking him, despite knowing the shit he'll go through. He provokes Chuuya, Aku, Kunikida, Fyodor, like? He goes into the situation with Fyodor knowing that he'll be fucking shot. He literally (fucking redacted my god) the nurse despite having a gunshot wound? Goes into the car knowing it will crash? Saves Sigma and crashes in an elevator? Even his fucking suicide attempts like, that shit's obviously not painless despite how much he wants it to be. In the BSD Drama CD, he literally fucking hangs himself in the room? He actively seeks out pain and puts himself in these situations and has self-destructive behaviour and tendencies despite his suicide. Anyways, sorry, the scene I was on about. When he gets captured by the mafia, and is literally getting smacked the shit out of by Aku (bear in mind that we didn't see that full scene from after Aku punched him, and whoever else went there to him, or whatever else happened. What happened when Kyouka took him, when he was chained up, etc. Also, the fact that it is a place used for torture, like. Anyways) yet still provokes him. For about three or something days that motherfucker was chained up and suspended like that's gotta hurt. Yet, he still provokes absolutely everyone around him and they end up inflicting pain on him. It just like... huh?

Anyways, I have so much more to say about this, but it's quite literally 4am and it's getting lighter outside. I have so so SO much more to say on this, though.

I just say way too fucking much lmao.

This is not going to make any sense to anybody else but me and for that I am sorry, and I apologise for me not being very concise or articulate. Any questions, don't hesitate to ask me and feel free to add your own brainrot to this :)

Have a lovely day/night! Thanks for taking the timr to read this bullshit fr <333