#have connections to other people and objects that dream has kind of ridded himself of. hes like dream before jschlatt a bit.

[cosmosisfold]

honestly shoutout dsmp punz for being a character involved with most of, if not all, major events on the dsmp and being a consistent online person. like dude sometimes would hangout late with maybe a couple other people and do some building and fighting but then like a week later hes meeting dream in secret while planning how theyre gonna become gods of the server. and then hes back in the spider xp pits mending his tools.

[detectivehannibal]

Desk Dreams

__

Hannibal Lecter x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Smut...lol have fun.

A/N: Testing my smut writing skills I see...I tried to weasel Will into this, but I’d hardly consider this a Will oneshot. I struggled so hard with this smh.

Requested by: @no-homo-hank

Prompt: also.. if i may request something sm*tty. personally i think your writing is so good. soo maybe something in his office yk yk like if the reader has a *sexy* dream about him,, and she has to tell him,, idk idk and only if you’re comfortable with it ofc! thanks :)

Word Count: 1,697

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?”

__

You couldn’t get it out of your head. The images, the sounds, the touches, the smells. You had tried to shake it off all morning. You had brewed an extra strong cup of coffee hoping to rid your conscious of the less than appropriate dream from the night before, but to no avail. You never really had dreams, and you especially didn’t have such scandalous ones. On top of that, you definitely never had sex dreams about your therapist. 

Sure, you found him attractive in more ways than just his striking intelligence. However, the thought of anything that wasn’t purely professional had never crossed your mind. You knew what Hannibal thought about dreams. He had mentioned to you before that they are often a crucial tell-tale of a person’s mental state most of the time. That was the part you couldn’t figure out.

What did having such a racy dream mean for you?

You pondered the thought on your way to your session. You desperately wished that you didn’t have to go today, but you knew you’d be questioned about it next session if you canceled. You entered his office’s waiting room, there were no other patients at that time. You weren’t surprised, considering most people tried to push for the afternoon appointments. You took your normal seat, knowing that Dr. Lecter and Will Graham would be finished shortly. Will Graham’s appointments were always before yours, and you always noted how Will always looked as if his brain had been completely picked apart when he exited.

You often wondered what sort of things they talked about.

Sure enough, the door opened a few minutes later, Hannibal seeing Will out of his office. 

“I will see you soon, Will.” Hannibal said to Will, who had pretty much already ended the conversation. 

Will spotted you waiting and actually offered a smile. He didn’t know you outside of the waiting room, but well enough to know your name and speak to you.

“Hello, [Y/N],” He greeted, leaning in slightly; “He’s acting strangely today.” He whispered.

You gave him a confused look, but returned the greeting before he dashed off and out of the building. What did he mean by “acting strangely”? There was only one way to find out. 

“[Y/N], are you ready?” Hannibal asked, inviting you into his office.

You nodded, entering swiftly. When you passed by him, a familiar scent enriched your nose. The smell of his cologne was exquisite and suddenly sparked your memory of the dream from the night before. So that was what you smelled in the dream. You had never paid attention to it before. 

Speaking of the dream, it was suddenly all you could think about. You sat in one of his chairs, immediately striking Hannibal as out of character. He decided to hold off on mentioning it yet. 

“Good morning. How are you?” He asked, sitting in the chair in front of you.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you found yourself in a trance, raking over his features. Had his hair always been so nice? Were his eyes always so enticing? You caught his gaze, waiting for you to give an answer.

“Huh? Oh! I’m doing well.” You said, beginning to feel a heat creep over your cheeks.

His hand briefly went up to his collar to readjust his tie. You basically stopped yourself from salivating. His hands were...so perfect. 

“You’re nervous.” He announced.

You denied. You denied hard. You would not let him through to you today. You’d die of embarrassment.

“Nope. Not nervous,” You said, visibly nervous; “What makes you say that?”

His expression was calculating. He was soaking you up like a sponge to sink water, taking everything in to be squeezed out again.

“For starters, you’re sitting. You usually walk around during our sessions,” He noted; “Secondly, your entire demeanor is tense.” 

Your leg stopped bouncing and you slowly stood from your chair, you began to try and walk as you normally did, but it ended up being more of a pace. 

“Is it so wrong to change things up a little?” You asked as casually as possible.

He looked so good in that light blue shirt. 

“No, but there’s always a reason for such change.” He bantered.

You shot him a look. It was hard to get anything past him. 

“I just...” You tried to come up with an excuse, but turned up short. 

He waited patiently, his gaze never leaving yours. You sighed in defeat. 

“Dreams are normal, right?” You asked, preparing to bite the bullet.

He nodded simply.

“Certainly.” 

You chewed your lip in thought, careful with how you approached this. You fiddled with the hem of your sweater.

“I had a rather interesting dream last night,” You confessed; “It wasn’t anything I had ever experienced.”

He was listening intently, not quite following what you were getting at.

“What did you dream about?” He prompted.

You felt a sudden rise in your throat. This was painful to admit.

“Well, you were in me- uh, I mean...in it.” You said, mentally cursing at yourself for your embarrassing slip up.

A wave of realization was clear on his face as he connected the dots. You wanted nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die.

“[Y/N], I can assure you that sexual fantasy dreams are quite normal.” He said in an attempt to comfort you.

You groaned miserably, burying your face in your hands. You were humiliated. You’d have to request a different therapist. Maybe even seek out a totally different counseling practice.

“Dreams often must be explored to be understood. Tell me more about the content of this dream.” He requested calmly.

Your blood went hot. What? Why did he want to know that? You looked to him, surprised to see that he was completely serious. You rubbed your palms together nervously.

“I came in for my usual session. The energy was different. You were looking at me in a way you don’t usually,” You explained; “The conversation took a turn and...we had sex.”

His expression remained unchanged, but you weren’t close enough yet to see the fire in his eyes. He stood from his seat and took slow strides over towards you. You were sure he could hear your thumping heart.

“How was I looking at you?” He questioned, his voice thick and smooth.

That’s when you saw the riled up glaze in his eyes. A sudden wave of emotion and arousal crashed over you. This was really going to happen.

“Just like you are now.” You breathed out.

Instantly, his lips were on yours. Passionate and needy, but steady and calculated too. His hands gripped your waist, pushing you towards his desk. He shimmied you onto the cool, dark wood and allowed you to remove his suit blazer. 

Your mind was racing, but your movements were faster. You untucked his dress shirt from his pants while his fingertips worked on unbuttoning your jeans. It was a hot, heavy silence as the two of you stripped down enough to get the job done. His mouth was hot on your neck once your pants were casted aside, sucking a hickey on your most sensitive spot. 

“Dr. Lecter, I...” You trailed off, your mind too clouded with pleasure to offer any kind of sentence.

This felt so wrong, but so right at the same time. You were thankful for patient-doctor confidentiality. 

“Hannibal.” He corrected, unbuckling his belt and getting his pants down to his ankles.

Woah. First name basis. That was new. Hannibal really seemed to know his way around a woman. You found that rather shocking.

“Is this your means of dream exploration?” You joked, giving a breathy laugh.

“Something like that.” He replied.

He pulled himself from his boxers, stroking a few times before gingerly pushing himself inside of you. A synchronized moan drew from the both of you as he pushed through your walls, traveling as deep as he could go. He pushed your back down onto the desk, watching you sprawl out desperately for him.

He began with slow thrusts to allow you to adjust to his length, but hit the sweetest of spots each time he went back in. He grasped one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist so he could get a better angle. He had one hand on your throat, wrapped firmly but not uncomfortably. 

“Hannibal, please. Faster.” You begged, your tone coming out as a whine.

He hummed in response, his pace beginning to pick up. Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as the sounds of skin and rattling desk objects echoed in your ears. He admired the way your eyes glassed over in pleasure, his own forehead beginning to break out into a sweat. 

“Was this how your dream played out?” He asked, the slightest bit of strain in his voice; “On my desk...in the middle of a session.”

You nodded in response, but that wasn’t enough.

“Use your words.” He ordered, slamming back into you again.

“Yes.” You groaned out.

“Good girl.” He praised, moving his pace even faster.

This wasn’t how he’d usually pleasure a woman. He preferred something a little more timed out and slow, but you needed something spontaneous and fast. He could feel it radiating off of you. Your mind bounced back and forth from the dream to this present moment. This was too good to be true.

Your legs tightened around his waist, signaling to him that you were awfully close. He himself felt a twitch, looks like you were going to both finish on time. He continued to pound into you, your moans relentlessly sounding out into the air. Your high-pitched, surprised gasp alerted your release, his own spilling out just a few moments later. 

Your moans and sounds dwindled into heavy breathing, your chests heaving to catch up. He collapsed onto your shaky frame, your hand resting in his hair. You could barely comprehend what had just happened. You suddenly had a whole new reason to come to therapy. Hannibal lifted his head, pride written all over his face.

“I think...we’ll pick this back up next week.”

[picsofsannyas]

OSHO, FOR MOST OF MY LIFE I HAVE HELD MYSELF ALOOF, SEPARATE AND ISOLATED, AND I HAVE THEREFORE BEEN PROTECTED FROM PEOPLE AND SITUATIONS. MY INNERMOST FEAR HAS ALWAYS BEEN THAT IF I OPENED MY HEART TOTALLY THE VAST LOVE THAT I FEEL WOULD RUSH OUT LIKE WATER FROM AN OVERFLOWING WELL AND BE LOST, DIVERTED OR REJECTED. MY ESSENCE IS LIKE A DELICATE FLOWER AND IF IT BLOSSOMED IN THE WRONG TERRAIN IT COULD EASILY BE BADLY BRUISED OR DESTROYED. THIS IS MY FEAR. IS THIS THE TIME AND PLACE TO OPEN MY HEART TOTALLY?

Tom Cassidy,

It is one of the most basic fears of all human beings. This is the fear that has created the monks and the nuns. The whole past of humanity has been dominated by this fear -- like a cancer of the soul.

It looks very logical that if you share your love you will be wasting it and soon you will become poor. This is the ordinary law of economics: if you want to have more money don't share it, be miserly. Get as much as you can and give as little as possible. Then only can you accumulate, then you can be rich.

This is true as far as the outside world is concerned, but this is absolutely untrue about the inner world; there a totally different law functions. The inner law is: if you don't give you will lose; if you give you will keep. The more you give the more you will have; the less you give the less you will have. If you don't give at all then you will not have anything, you will be just utterly empty, a grave, and inside the grave there is no possibility of any flower blossoming. The flower needs the sun, the rain, the wind, the stars, the sky, the birds. Howsoever delicate it is, it needs to open up to existence. In that opening the fragrance is released, the imprisoned splendour is released.

Tom, you are basically a monk. The word 'monk' is significant; it means 'one who lives a lonely life', one who lives a life of no relationship, of no relatedness, of no love, of no sharing; who lives a windowless life closed on all sides, utterly closed in himself out of the fear that if he opens up, who knows what will happen to his tender heart, to his delicate inner being? He is afraid of rejection, he is afraid of situations, he is afraid of the unknown. He clings to himself, but this clinging only brings death. He may go on dragging for years, but that is not life, that is slow suicide.

The very word 'monk' means one who has decided to live a lonely life. From the same root comes 'monastery', where people live in loneliness. From the same word come word  like 'monopoly', 'monotony', 'monogamy' .

Trying to live on your own, unbridged with others, is the most dangerous idea that can possess anybody ever, and once it starts taking on religious colours then it becomes very difficult to get rid of it because it fulfils your ego, it nourishes all that is wrong in you, it destroys all that is beautiful in you. In a grave there is no possibility of roses flowering -- inside a grave -- but there is a possibility of snakes and scorpions and spiders -- all that is ugly, all that is poisonous. If the grave is completely closed its very air will be poison.

And millions of people are living the life of monks and nuns. They may not have gone to the monastery, they may be living with their wife, but closed, with their children, but closed. They may be living in the world but so guardedly, so cautiously, so calculatively that their life cannot have any joy, any dance, any song.

One needs a little courage to make life a celebration.

You say, Tom: FOR MOST OF MY LIFE I HAVE HELD MYSELF ALOOF...

You have been suicidal! Life means togetherness with existence, with the trees, with the rivers, with the rocks, with people. with animals, with all that is. To relate with it multi-dimensionally that's the only way to make your life rich. The more you relate. the more multi-dimensional you are. the rich you are, the more you grow, the more you blossom. There is still time. Drop this stupid idea of being aloof separated and isolated. That you can do after you die! Then you will have more than enough time. From your name it seems you are a Christian. Then you will have more than enough time -- till the Last Judgement Day! Then you can live in your grave as a monk, you can keep your Bible with you, you can keep your rosary. But while you are alive, while this immense opportunity is given to you, live it, rejoice in it!

Jesus says again and again to his disciples, 'Rejoice! Rejoice! I say again rejoice'. Jesus was not a monk, he was a very alive man. He lived with all kinds of people: the gamblers. the drunkards, the prostitutes, the sinners, the tax collectors. He and not with the idea of 'holier than thou', he lived with great friendliness. He enjoyed late parties, dances, music. And Believe me, he was not continuously giving gospels, he was gossiping too! And he was a drunkard, he loved wine -- he shared it with his disciples. Fasting was not his way but feasting!

Don't be monkish. To be a man is such a great opportunity that there is no need at all to waste it. And remember one thing: the things that you are afraid of...

... THAT IF I OPENED MY HEART TOTALLY THE VAST LOVE THAT I FEEL WOULD RUSH OUT LIKE WATER FROM AN OVERFLOWING WELL...

For whom are you feeling this vast love? Just for yourself? -- because love means to have a direction, an object. It is always addressed to somebody. To whom is your love addressed? You are like an unopened envelope: you have not even read what is written in the letter, you don't know whether the letter exists inside at all or if you are simply carrying an empty envelope. Unless you open the envelope you will never know. Open it!

And remember, the well never runs out because deep down the well is connected with the oceans. The oceans are continuously reaching it in small springs. In fact, if you don't draw the water out of the well it will die, because soon those springs will not be needed; they will become blocked. They will not be in use, they will lose their functioning, and the old water will become stale and dead, maybe poisonous. It is good for the well-being of the well to go on drawing water from it. The more water you take out, the more fresh streams of water go on reaching the well. The well is not disconnected from existence.

Your heart is certainly a well. If you keep it closed then you will not get energy flowing into you from the universe. Go on emptying yourself and you will be surprised -- you are in for a great surprise: the more you empty yourself, the fuller you are.

That's why Gautam the Buddha emphasized the word shunya, 'zero'. Become a zero! If you want to become full, his message is, just become empty, a nothingness, just space, pure space, unlimited space containing nothing. Just empty yourself totally and you will not be able to believe it -- a miracle happens. When you are utterly empty, the whole existence enters you.

All the stars are within you and all the flowers are within you, the sun and the moon are within you. Suddenly you see yourself as vast as the universe itself. To be nothing is the only way to be all. To be nobody is the only way to be divine. Emptiness brings godliness.

And don't be worried that your love will be lost -- nothing is ever lost. The world always contains the same amount of everything, neither less nor more. Now this is a scientific fact: there is not a single atom less than there ever was, not a single atom more than there ever was. The quantity of the universe remains absolutely the same, because from where can anything new come in? -- the existence contains all, there is 'nowhere else'. And where can anything go out? There is nowhere else to go, so nothing is ever lost. Maybe it takes a little longer to reach the right person, but it always reaches.

Sing the song and don't be worried! It will reach the right people at the right time, if not today then tomorrow, if not in your life then in some other time. But it will reach -- it is bound to reach! It will always find the right person who can absorb it. Simply sing the song. You should not be too concerned whom it reaches, your whole concern should be that you are singing it with totality, that's all; more than that is not required of anybody. It is not your business whether it has been heard or not. When a flower opens in the jungle it is not worried whether anybody will be passing by, 'to know the beautiful fragrance that I am releasing', it simply releases the fragrance. If it reaches to some nostrils, good; if it does not reach, so what? The flower has blossomed, it has offered itself to the universe. Now it is up to the universe to do whatsoever it wants to do with it. Nothing ever is lost and nothing is ever diverted and nothing is ever rejected. But people feel rejected many times because even before they have given something there is expectation; if their expectation is not fulfilled then they feel rejected. It is the expectation that is creating the trouble, not love. Give love without any strings attached to it. Give love for the sheer joy of giving. Enjoy giving it.

The cuckoo calling in the distance -- not worried at all whether anybody is enjoying it or not. The faraway star -- do you think it is concerned whether a poet is writing a beautiful poem about it or a Vincent van Gogh is painting it or a photographer or an astronomer are concerned about it? It is none of the business of the star. The joy is in shining forth.

Simply open up your heart, Tom Cassidy -- and open it totally, without any expectations, without any conditions and it is sure to reach to the right heart; it always happens.

When I started singing my song there was nobody to hear it then people started coming. I was surprised -- how did they hear? Why did these people go on coming? From all directions. from all over the world people started coming. How did you arrive here? And I was not waiting for anybody to come! I was just singing my song, I was enjoying it.

Just the other day one sannyasin asked, 'Osho, I have had one dream: in the dream I am sitting in Buddha Hall alone. And then you come, you sit in the chair, and I am very much puzzled because I am alone and there is nobody else in Buddha Hall, the whole of Buddha Hall is empty. And I am worried about what you are going to do!'

You need not be worried -- I will do my thing! I cannot leave you alone! I will talk to you for one and a half hours continuously. And you cannot escape either! When there are so many people, a few people can escape, but if you are alone where can you go? I will follow you! Without anybody there at all, even if you are not there and I am alone in Buddha Hall, I will sing my song.

Try it one day! I will still tell my jokes, and if there is nobody to laugh at them I will laugh myself -- if not at the joke because I know it already -- then just because I am laughing, laughing that there is nobody and I am telling a joke!

 How ridiculous!

Tom, don't be worried.

You say: MY ESSENCE IS LIKE A DELICATE FLOWER...

So let it be! It is beautiful it is a delicate flower. Let others also partake of its fragrance, let others also drink out of your well. And soon the flower will die -- by the evening it will be gone. So don't hide it, because even if you hide it you cannot save it. In the morning the rose opens its petals, in the evening the petals will wither away and the rose will be gone. Before it is gone let it be shared. Let the bees come and hum and let the birds sing, let the children play around it. Let everybody rejoice! Otherwise you will be dying unfulfilled.

It is a delicate flower, but the more delicate it is the more quickly one has to open it to existence, because one cannot wait for tomorrow -- it may not be there tomorrow.

And you are worried: IF IT BLOOMED IN THE WRONG TERRAIN... There is no wrong terrain anywhere. In fact, if a rose can blossom in a desert that will be the most beautiful terrain -- that will be an exceptional rose. If it can blossom among rocks then that rose must be a Buddha, not less than that, a Christ, not less than that. In the right terrain, in the garden, ordinary flowers blossom but extraordinary flowers blossom among the rocks too, in the deserts too. So don't be worried about the terrain, and don't be worried that IT COULD EASILY BE BADLY BRUISED OR DESTROYED.

Everything that is born is going to be destroyed, so before it is destroyed let it have its dance.

And you are asking me: IS THIS THE TIME AND PLACE TO OPEN MY HEART TOTALLY?

Every time and every place is the right place! And because you are here at this moment, let this be the place. Where can you find a better space, with people more beautiful, more accepting, more loving than you are surrounded by here in this Buddhafield?

Tom Cassidy, you have waited long enough -- don't wait anymore. This is the time. This is the moment. Never trust the next moment -- the tomorrow never comes. Now or never!

Osho.

Zen: Zest, Zip, Zap and Zing Chapter #12 Chapter title: Life: Let it have it's Dance

Qu. 1. 

[yan-twst]

Idk if I made it in time for requests so I'll send it in anyway feel free to delete if too late but headcannons of Yandere Malleus, Kalim and Leona with a darling who loves them back but is scared of being tied to royalty?

a/n: just a quick heads up- kalim isn’t royalty (i used to think he was like, the son of the sultan when i got into twst) like in the sense his family isn’t connected to the crown, however he is the heir to an incredibly powerful and influential family! it still works for the effects of being incredibly stressed to being connected to such important family- think of it as old money rich families- but just thought i’d give a heads up bc i don’t refer to him as royalty in this one. also i’m working off the assumption that the relationship is already like, happening because i don’t want to make these way longer than needed

warnings: general yandere themes, implied violence

❥ leona kingscholar

it all comes off as... almost mockery, really. it leaves a sour taste on his mouth- he can see how his darling tenses at his presence whenever his title is mentioned, how they seem to stress whenever leona’s brother writes about how he should bring his lover to the palace to meet him

it’s not them trying to make leona feel unappreciated or feared, but that’s what they do. he’s spent too long being compared to his brother, being whispered about by servants- it wouldn’t be too far off to say that he almost feels betrayed by his significant other because of this, even if their reluctance isn’t necessarily aimed at him

he isn’t above using pressure to keep them right by his side. royalty might be annoying, but it’s also pressuring and crushing. he knows better than anyone that his darling can easily crumple under it all, and he uses it for his own advantage before they can slink away from him

their face shown to the entire afterglow savannah. being presented to farena and his wife. cheka’s constant cheering and asking “when they’re gonna marry uncle leona”. he has no trouble taking his darling back home by telling them how excited farena is to see them- surely they aren’t about to disappoint the king, are they? and once there, it’s all in his ballcourt.

court manners, keeping up appearance, smile for the citizens, wave as leona puts his arm around their shoulder, try not to go pale and fall when farena introduces them as leona’s partner- this isn’t a marriage announcement, but it might as well be. after all, is it even possible to split off now...? now that everyone seems to think leona’s found his genuine love, that it’s a sweet love story of the ill tempered second prince falling in love with a no-name commoner and tossing aside traditions of royalty marrying royalty to bring them to his kingdom... it’s such a sweet story for everyone, except perhaps for the poor soul that’s trapped in the relationship with no exits

and oh, if pressure isn’t enough, then pain and threats surely will be. leona seems to easily pick his own desires over his darling’s comfort; after all, he so easily chose to shackle them to the relationship just because he feared their insecurities would cause them to leave. now that they’re effectively trapped to him by everyone’s gazes being in them, he just has to keep them docile and obedient, keep them from causing a scene. 

he’s careful enough not to bruise anywhere visible if he thinks punishment is needed; long gone are the days when he’d perhaps tolerate his darling not doing as he pleased, replaced by his seemingly unwavering intent to train them into absolute submission. it’s more so mortifying when he decides to drag their loved ones into the ordeal: perhaps they’re willing to withstand pain themselves, but would they want anything bad to happen to their beloved friends back at nrc, hm? 

“are you being cold to me? you should know better by now.” he isn’t necessarily angry, per se, but annoyed- by now they do know it’s already bad to have him in that mood. there’s an added danger of being back at nrc now that break is over; there’s no longer guards stationed outside the room, no longer the danger of cheka bursting in- which means leona has little to no reason to not be as horrible as he wants, provided he makes sure they can’t scream too loud beforehand. the bruises on their arms still hurt from being gripped too tightly last time he considered they weren’t behaving as affectionately as they should, and the memory immediately makes them tense. without even asking why he’s accusing them of being cold now, they apologize- meek, docile, spineless- and the grin on his face grows. perhaps they’d been to scared at the thought of being connected to royalty before and failed to realize it wasn’t leona’s connection to royalty what made a relationship with him dangerous: how many red flags had they missed before? how many of those quirks and things they chalked off to leona being a bit too possessive or territorial had been warning signs to this eventual outcome? dwelling on the past did nothing to soothe the pains of the present, though. “hmph, i don’t think i’m buying that apology. if you really want to get off without a punishment, put me in a good mood first. you can do that much, can’t you, herbivore?”

❥ kalim al-asim

sweet, innocent and cheerful kalim would seem like the sort of person who wouldn’t understand anxieties over being connected to a powerful family. he gives off such a bubbly and happy impression that such things would simply slip his mind

oh, but they don’t. he himself has suffered at being tied to his family- he’s been through enough attempted assassinations and kidnappings and poisonings that he’s almost de-sensitized to it all. he’s sunny, yes, but it’s almost surprising how cheery he is considering all he’s been through

perhaps that’s why he’s almost... sympathetic to his darling when he finally understands their plight. it’s a relief, really- it’s not that they don’t love him! he’s fine, they’re fine- it’s just a little bit of anxieties! 

he understands, really... it’s so scary to have people wanting to get rid of you. well, it’s different for him, because he’s lived this way all his life, but his darling hasn’t... it must be scary for them... kalim’s affection and his simple mind, combined with his love that runs a bit too deeply mix

good intentions or not, the result is nothing more than glorified imprisonment, really. it begins with him happily saying that he asked crowley for permission to get some guards from back home to come to nrc to make sure nobody tries to break into his darling’s dorm, to then kalim insisting they spend their nights in scarabia for added safety- it snowballs from there

don’t eat the cafeteria food if it hasn’t been poison tested! actually, don’t eat in the cafeteria at all, he’ll provide the food. they don’t have someone like jamil by their side, so try not to wander outside alone! in fact, always have him close if they go out, ok? 

... and of course, it ends up with maybe don’t leave the dorm, since it could be dangerous, and by then? it’s too late. kalim interpreted their anxiety as fear of dangers, because he’s put in danger because of his position, and so he seems to tell himself that as long as he keeps them safe everything is fine

even if they don’t want to do as he says, he’s just... keeping them safe. it’s his duty, as a good boyfriend, right? even if it’s painful to hear them cry from their room as he locks the door, even after he has to keep a chain on their ankle to keep them from trying to pick the lock... kalim doesn’t enjoy their pain, doesn’t relish in the sadism most nrc students seem to inherently have. but he still thinks he’s doing what he must to keep them safe: after all, wasn’t it them who were scared before...?

“i got you this, it reminded me of you! please, won’t you try it on? i’m sure it’ll look amazing on you, and it matches with me... oh, if you don’t like the colour of the gems i could get you another one, too!” kalim opens the box to  present a bracelet. it’s objectively a fine piece of art- surely it’s pure gold and carved jewels, a priceless piece that most could merely dream of even looking at through a glass display, and yet to kalim, there isn’t really a price too high for his lover. they’re his most beloved treasure; and he seems to protect them as such, too, if the chain connecting the cushined cuff on their ankle to the wall says anything. it’s covered in gold and long enough they can wander around the room, but a golden chain still remains a chain. it’s almost silly to think back on how this hell began, with them being anxious over being connected to such an affluent family as the asim family was- in fact, the threats of poisonings or kidnappings hadn’t even crossed their mind until kalim began to protect them from it. and now this was life- kalim seemed to willingly ignore every single time they tried to lash out, acting as if everything was fine, showering them with gifts as if new and expensive belongings could somehow soothe the loss of their freedoms. and maybe it was partly their fault too- after all, they let him put the bracelet on their wrist, let him cheer about how pretty they looked. it was so hard to lash out against him, despite him doing all of this- knowing that he genuinely had no bad intentions, that it was all born out of love and desire to protect, but they were still prisoners with no escape.

❥ malleus draconia

there’s nothing that malleus dreads more than being feared by his darling. that’s what sets them apart from others, what makes him so obsessed, to finally have found someone to show even an inkling of kindness to him, to show him a glimmer of warmth after a life of being feared, of being shunned

he... can’t understand. why are they scared of being tied into royalty? as he sees it, it’s a step up from their current life- power, riches, comfort, those are all things that people dream of, things men have gone to war over, things he can give them. malleus doesn’t seem to comprehend the pressure of it all to someone who’s simply never been involved with the crown- he’s never truly had friends outside of his parental figure or guards, always surrounded by those who work for the crown or are part of the court.

his frustration makes him turn to his instincts. he isn’t willing to lose his darling, not over something like this- even if in reality, he’d be unwilling to let go no matter the reason. what good is power and status if he can’t at least keep the one person he loves the most...? why would he not use said power to keep them by his side?

he seems to think that if he just pushes them headfirst into it, they’ll adjust. a sort of “rip the bandaid” method; they’re anxious over being tied to fae royalty, so why can’t he just show them it’s truly nothing to stress over? they don’t need to worry about ruling or about duties- their title as royalty in the future wouldn’t mean much. they’re malleus’ lover first and foremost, their only true duties would be to stay by his side as they’ve been doing

malleus makes his decision almost worryingly quickly. it’s perhaps because this obsessive attitude has been in him all along, simply brought up by the slight bump in the relationship. maybe his draconic instincts to hoard could be blamed, or maybe his lack of real relationships, or maybe he simply was never meant to love in the regular sense

it... really doesn’t help that most fae don’t think too highly of humans. when malleus drags a clearly terrified and unwilling little human back home and declares them to be his future spouse, the fae court really seems to think of them more as the prince’s pet rather than a lover, leave alone an unwilling victim. if anything, there’s more pressure added to them, the fact that in the castle there isn’t really any ally for them

he’s persistent. malleus doesn’t want to hurt his darling much, but his temper isn’t quite stable. test him too much and he’ll snap, electricity and magic humming in the air. the faster his darling learns that the best path for them is to just do as he says, to hold him and kiss him and try and hide how their body tenses and hands shake when he enters the room, the better it’ll be for them. it’s not like they’re going to be getting any other life soon- upon returning to nrc, malleus doesn’t see the need for them to attend classes. after all, their future is already decided as a docile spouse to a king, they aren’t going to be needing much of an education, as much as they simply have to learn to be a doting and gentle spouse to him.

“i don’t understand why you’re so stressed over this.” malleus sounds genuinely confused, arms crossed as he stares at his darling. the poor thing flinches at his voice, quickly composing themselves, as if trying to hide said moment of vulnerability from him- the last thing they want is for malleus to grow more upset because he once again is forced to realize his own lover is terrified of him. still, he steps closer, close enough to cup their cheek with one of his cold hands. it takes all of their willpower to not stiffen under his touch. they’re extra jumpy today, mainly because lilia dropped by to begin court etiquette lessons. the fae’s ways are much different from humans, but from what they hear, malleus doesn’t plan on having them discuss many affairs with the court to warrant more than some infrequent reminders by lilia on how to behave. still, that does little to calm their nerves, especially because they know the reason why despite the fact they’ll soon be royalty that they’ll still have little duties. malleus caresses their cheek, thumb moving to gently swipe over their lower lip (the urge to lunge and bite seems to still scream from a corner of their brain. the urge to rebel against this, to try and claw back at their old life- urges they ignore and suppress. it’s useless- it’s all useless now, and they know trying to stand for themselves is just asking for malleus to lose it again and hurt them beyond belief in his anger). he seems satisfied with their response; that is, with the lack of response, minimal flinching and tensing, things he’s slowly become keenly aware of, are good, and speaks again what weighs heavily on their mind. “you won’t have to deal with the court much. you’ll be my spouse- your title doesn’t mean anything to worry about. you’ll simply have to continue to love me as i love you; your only job is to stay by my side forever.”

[warm-starlight]

Hello! I am not in the Levihan fandom, so I don't really know where to go, but I really wanted to ask a few questions about the ship and how the shippers view it. Sorry if I'm in the wrong place or if this bothers you at all.

One, how do you guys view the forest scene, really? Do you view it as a love confession? Or do you think they already knew of each other's feelings? And do you think Hange really would've run away with Levi, or was it just a selfish desire or statement thrown out out of desperation?

Two, do shippers actually believe that the plane in the ending was meant to symbolize/represent Hange similarly to how the bird represented Eren? (I was never sure if this was serious or joking.)

Three, what do you think of Levi's motivation after Return to Shiganshina? (I know this isn't directly related to Levihan, but I know different shippers will have different answers on this!) Do you think he was driven by the vow? Or was he driven purely by his comrades and hope for a better future? Or was he driven by both? What about his vow to kill Zeke? Do you feel that was purely for humanity's goal, or do you think it was personal? Or a combination of both?

Four, what do you think of Levi's other relationships and friendships? Such as his relationships with Erwin, the other veterans, Petra and his squad, etc. (Like, I'm not a Levihan shipper but I absolutely adore what they had!)

And five, what was the moment that made you realize Levi and Hange had something special?

(Sorry for the long ask! I'm just very curious!)

Hello! I am glad you are interested in the best ship in SnK-LeviHan. 😄

Your ask is long and consists on different questions so i will try to break it down and answer each one separately. Mind you this is my personal perspective and observation, but i assure you there are as many opinions as there are shippers, so make sure to read around Levihan tag to get a better picture.

Let's begin!

I personally believe it was Hange's love confession. I believe they had a deep bond that transcended platonic friendship, considering the scene WIT added to introduce them and their bond in which Levi is borderline teasing/flirting, but they never really thought much of it, or maybe they were afraid to think about it, considering they lose people they love all the time due to their line of work. On the other hand, Hange seemed to always believe in Levi's strength. I believe they never really considered something bad could happen to him of all people, that's why their reaction to finding Levi in that vulnerable state was of pure shock. I think right then they experienced a realization, that they could Lose Levi. I believe on top of other things this is what drove them to say "Maybe we should just live here together" because the threat of being persecuted by Yegerists was on their backs.

I don't think it was desperation as much as just Hange stating how they truly feel and allowing themselves a moment of weakness, considering they tell Jean "I wanted to run away... I wanted to throw it all away"...I believe they did consider running away with Levi, that said a sense of duty was stronger, that's why Hange simultaneously started working on a way to go back into battle.

Yes, it's a serious parallel. Only Hange and to some extent Levi and Onyankopon were connected to the plane and aircraft troughout the latter part of the series. Hange was the one who gave their life to secure the plane so they could reach Eren. Levi looking at it and Onyankopon giving him a look is an obvious hint that he is thinking back to that day. It was also Eren's and Hange's death anniversary. They died on the same day. In the draft Yams also added "They want to know what we saw... The pain we felt"... Next to Levi's panel which is another huge hint.

The vow is for his comrades. They are not mutually exclusive. Levi's main objective has always been about giving meaning to the ones who gave their lives for humanity's future. I think for him it was a relief when he found out Zeke is still the enemy, because that meant killing him will not be meaningless and that he was right... Later on Hange theorized that killing Zeke will stop the rumbling and so he strove to do that, but in chapter 136 his inner monologue showed how he is no longer sure what they did it all for. Maybe killing Zeke wasn't the answer? That is when he was able to let go of his fixation on Zeke and only when he appeared and made it obvious he wants Levi to kill him, he did so with an anguished expression, however he never stopped there. He continued to push forward until they killed Eren and got rid of the titans and really gave meaning to his comrades lives.

I think Levi had an immense respect and admiration for Erwin. Like Isayama said, Erwin's goal seemed unbelievably altruistic and something Levi never considered himself, so he made it his personal live's mission and in a way he wanted to push Erwin to meet his expectations. Their dynamics is interesting for me, but for Erwin, i don't think Levi was more special than Hange or Mike. As the smartpass story described, Erwin was happy to have those bonds, but he was ready to throw them away should the need arose. This is why i can't ever view them romanticaly. Erwin was married to his dream so to speak. Petra and his old squad... I think they were precious subordinates for him, but i don't think they were Friends in the realest sense of the word. Isayama said in his interview that Levi was not able to freely be himself around them and that he only found that kind of trust with the 104th.That said i think Levi gets attached to all his squad membera and loves and values every single person working under him. He takes it extremely hard when he loses them as was made obvious with his first squad, Hange squad and the ones he worked with when guarding Zeke. I do think that only Erwin and Hange *truly* were his friends.

It was all the little things from the hair grab scene in the anime to them interacting with each other in a familiar way troughout the manga, refering to each other only by name which is done only by very close people, understanding each other without words, Levi sensing when they're around and knowing them by their knock, them guarding each other's back, roasting each other and getting away with it, worrying about each other.. Hange seemed to hang around Levi even when they weren't on missions like when they came to the castle early to meet Eren or when they were sitting in the room when Levi talked about his plan to cut Eren out without killing him, Levi helped Hange exact Revenge on Sanes for killing Pastor Nick even though he didn't need to, just to make them feel better... They just seem like they feel good and comfortable together and i think it's wonderful. All the extra material too, the smartpass stories, spinoffs and intervies also imply they have a special relationship.

I hope this answered your questions.

Thank you for the ask!

[chubbybuckydumpling]

Hello, having seen your requests are open, I would like to request your thoughts on

Andy Barber and Reader going on vacation together for the first time (rating up to you)

A Much Needed Vacation

words: 2.5k

pairing: Andy Barber x female Reader

warnings: mentions of smut, implied smut, fluff

A/n: I don’t know why I struggled so much with this, I hope it’s okay. I’m so nervous (because I really want to impress @slothspaghettiwrites ) pray for me please! :)

My Masterlist

Andy had always had trouble making and keeping friends. He had a couple of colleagues and acquaintances, but a true friend he could confide in? Not really no, his past trauma and toxic habit of keeping all his emotions bottled up made him seem arrogant and standoffish.

But then you came along. You, with your perfect smile and golden heart and the patience of an angel. No matter what Andy tried, how distant he acted, you wouldn’t budge. The opposite actually. His behaviour intrigued you and the way he made your thighs clench by only looking at you added to his appeal.

So when you regrettably went to go for a swim in the morning because you felt too exhausted yesterday evening and saw this delicious piece of man in just a pair of trunks? You knew it was time to get that man to become yours.

You situated yourself at the end of the lane Andy was using, thighs spread and calves dunked in the cool water, your swimsuit tight around your body. A smirk plays on your lips as you watch the man of your desire move closer to you until his hand hits the edge of the pool and his head pops up.

You can see from his expression that he did not expect to come face to face with your crotch, eyes wide under his goggles and mouth agasp. He panted heavily and took off his glasses, beard and hair wet, a few droplets running from his forehead. ”Hey, Andy. What are you doing here so early?”, you asked with a smile.

He struggled staying in one spot, because you were blocking the edge with your thighs, hindering him from holding himself up. Grinning, you reached for his hand and placed it on your leg. Andy’s had snapped up to stare at you in shock, yet his fingers tightened around your flesh to keep him steady.

“I like when it’s empty in the mornings. Fewer disturbances”, he answered and lowered his gaze. Now he was right back to watching your crotch and a delicious blush covered the apples of his cheeks. Quickly he glanced to the side to try and be respectful.

You pouted and splashed some water with your foot, “Am I disturbing you?”. Andy squeezes your thigh erratically, “No, absolutely not. It’s a real pleasure that you’re here”, he responded a little too eager, which he must have realised because he started to backpaddle, “I mean that in a really respectful way not that I get off on this or something. That’d be weird”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips, “Not that you’re weird, you’re obviously very attractive and beautiful, not that I’ve been watching you, bu-“, your giggles interrupted him. With a loving gaze you cupped his face, “Wanna race?” Confused, Andy agreed, but before he could part from you, you pulled his face close to yours.

His breath was fanning over your lips and you could perfectly make out all the flecks and shades of blue in his beautiful eyes, “Will you take me on a date if I win?”

You’re very glad you got Andy to open up to you, especially now that you’ve been dating for ten months. Never before have you felt this happy so consistently and even though Andy still struggles with fully discussing his feelings and thoughts, you think that he has been sharing your excitement. You’ve become his rock, the one constant in his life, the shoulder he leans one. In return he treats you with the utmost respect and love. There wasn’t a moment where you didn’t feel like a queen in his care.

Sadly, you couldn't spend as much time with him as you wanted, his work as an assistant district attorney taking up most of his time.Of course that didn’t hinder your growing love for the man, but it left you feeling lonely a lot, particularly because your occupation as an architect allows you to work from home quite a bit.

Once you moved together, you felt slightly more connected to your boyfriend. Falling asleep in his arms every night and waking up with kisses being peppered all over your face was like a dream come true. For the first few weeks, you were in a constant state of bliss, cooking and providing for Andy while he kept you happy and satisfied. Soon enough however, Andy received a new case to work on and your fairytale vision was destroyed. The reality of life settled in and your rose coloured glasses were ripped away.

You still enjoyed living with your boyfriend, every time you saw him, butterflies erupted in your belly, still do, you just wished you could spend more time with him. Never before have you been so in love with somebody. All of Andy’s little quirks and ticks had you weak in your knees. The way he acted so delicate and gentle, especially around you, while his muscles were bulging. To see this huge, sculpted man be so caring and soft made you feel all kinds of things.

But it must have been your lucky day when Andy came home early with a big smile on his face. “Sugar, the case is closed. You’ve got me all to yourself for the next three weeks”, his arms open for you to fall into with loud giggles. “For real?”, you asked, excitement bubbling in your chest, “Yes, for real, honey!”, he grinned and pulled you closer, his beard scratching against the delicate skin of your cheeks as he pressed his lips to your temple.

You’re currently sitting next to Andy on a flight to “You’ll like it, I promise”. Your head rests on his shoulder, eyes closed peacefully. His breathing calms you down and even managed to lull you into a deep slumber. He’s been reading some kind of book and occasionally glanced over to you, checking if you’re doing alright. The flight has been quite calm, smoothly flying over the clouds.

The first class seats are a blessing, the constant stream of food that’s been given to you and the extra leg room added to the whole level of comfort. Andy’s warmth makes you feel very small and cuddly, his muscular frame a stark contrast to your softer, smaller form; a thing that you’ve come to appreciate quite a lot.

“Did you have a nice nap, honey?”, his deep voice rumbles as one of his hands moves to cradle your face. You nod and cuddle yourself further into your boyfriend’s chest, his distinctive smell consumes you as you continue to practically melt into his side. “We’ll land shortly, shortcake. Are you ready to find out where we're going?”, he asks into your hair and nuzzles his nose into your scalp. A loud yawn escapes your mouth, “I guess. I’m just happy to be with you again”, you whisper and turn to face him.

Of all the places Andy could have picked, he chose this particular place, because he knew you would love all the new experiences and adventures it would bring. He’s aware that you love to experience new things with all of your senses, how you become so excited whenever you discover a new smell or feel a foreign fabric under your fingers, the way your eyes glaze over when you spot a novel view or an object of interest. The way you grin when a new taste warms your body, there’s nothing that Andy loves more than seeing you beam with such childlike joy.

“You’re taking me to Marrakesh? No way”, you gasp, suddenly awake. The grin on your boyfriend’s face mirrors your own as excitement courses through your veins. “I’ve never been to Morocco before! Or Africa!”, you stare at him for a split second before your head whips to the other side. The window doesn’t suffice with your sudden hunger to explore the city, you can barely make out any landmarks. Yet you can’t stop squirming in your seat. The wanderlust has fully taken over and you latch onto Andy’s arm, giggling uncontrollably.

Your laughter is infectious and soon your boyfriend is cackling next to you, desperately trying to silence himself when he sees the man next to him staring at the both of you with a death glare. If looks could kill.

The next two hours pass in a blur. Andy maneuvered you through the airport safely and carried most of the luggage as your eyes were trained on the different people that moved past you. The drive to the hotel was no different, your nose practically glued to the window, “Look, Andy, look!”. He entertained you, of course, and looked out of the window every time, a smile on his soft, pink lips, “Good job, shortcake. Did you take a picture?”. The check-in went smoothly, all of your bags stored safely in your room.

You’re sitting on the softest king size bed ever, anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to finish up in the bedroom. “Hurry up, please. I can’t wait to get out to see more of this place”, you shout, phone in your hand to take a picture for your family. “Relax, honey! The sights won’t run away”, he responds with a chuckle. His deep timbre makes goosebumps arise all over your arms. All your excitement must have caused an increase in your blood flow to your lady parts.

With a shake of your head you try to rid yourself of these thoughts. The attempt fails horrendously once Andy comes out of the en suite. His loose, unbuttoned shirt and the form fitting shorts make you weak in the knees. Your boyfriend is just that handsome. The thought of ripping his trousers from his body dissipates quickly when he asks if you’re ready to go see the souks. Hell yes, you are.

The sun is setting while you and Andy overlook the Jemaa el-Fnaa from your table on the restaurant’s balcony. An almost empty plate of cake between you and your boyfriend. He’s holding your hand on the table, gently tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “How’d you like your first day, honey?”, he asks gently, affection clearly shimmering in his eyes.

“I loved it! I don’t know what I liked most? Everything is so interesting and beautiful”, you jump in your chair, giggling happily. “I loved all the different little shops in the bazaar! I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different foods and clothes in one place and everything smelled so good. I really loved all the spices, we should make something like this at home!”

“What, a whole wall filled with spices?”, he snorts, shaking his head, the smile never leaving his face, “I think we should leave the colossal spice walls in the souks”. A pout forms on your lips, but the squeeze of Andy’s hand makes you melt back into your blessed state. “I really loved all the different things they sold. I’m sure you could find about everything there”, Andy pieces the last piece of cake and holds it up to your mouth. You open up to reach for it, but he pulls the fork away just efore you get to it, “Andy!”, you whsiper yell at the grin on his lips.

“What’s the matter honey?”, he asks sweetly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You playfully glare at him, smirking, “Are you sure you want to play this kind of game, Mr. Barber?”. He nods at you like you’re being his bratty teen, in need for some serious attitude control, “Don’t be all venomous, I don’t like snakes”. As soon as he spoke those words regret washed over his features, “Oh dear, here we go…”

“I can’t believe you’re scared of snakes! You’re the biggest man I know and you’re terrified of snakes!”, you burst out with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. “I just didn’t want it to touch me”, he mumbles, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Please, Andy you should have seen your face. It was a tiny little snake”, you giggle and reach over the table to take his hand into yours again, but he doesn’t budge. “It was laying on your shoulders, it could have killed you!”, you keep trying to loosen up his arms, a few giggles still slipping out. You get out of your seat and move to your boyfriend, “The kind owner was standing right next to me, everything was fine”,

With a sigh, Andy opens his arms and pulls you on his lap. His beard tickles you as he places his head on your shoulder, gently kissing and lapping at your neck, “I just want you to be safe”.

You cuddle further into his warmth, smiling at his overprotective manners, “I’ve got you with me, I don’t think I could be safer”.

A smile on your lips, you turn around to kiss him, his scent envelopes you with a sense of comfort. His soft mouth against your own, the setting sun warming you from the outside, the love and adoration coursing through you from the inside. It’s gentle, full of emotion as if he’s trying to put all his wasted feelings from when he was working so much into it. After a while you pull back, breathing heavily. Your hand cups his face and you run the other through his soft hair, a couple of knots tangling between your fingers.

“I love you, baby”, you whisper like you’re telling him a secret, “I love you too, honey”.  A warm breeze blows over you and you turn to watch over the place below you, the last rays of sun painting it in a delicious golden glow. “Let’s ask someone to take a picture of us. Our first day on our first ever vacation together”, you smile and press another kiss to his lips. “I’ll find someone, stay put”, Andy grins and squeezes your hips as a sign for you to move back into your seat.

You watch your boyfriend’s retreating figure, a happy flutter in your chest. You can’t believe that you’re on a beautiful vacation with your beautiful boyfriend and about to take a beautiful picture to glue into your memory book. Excited, you let the atmosphere envelope you, completely floating in all the different sounds and scents. It’s really peaceful, the loud and busy streets quiet for a change.

Andy’s voice coaxes you out of your trance, “You ready, sugar?”. The two of you stand in front of the balcony, his hands rest on your waist when he suddenly bows forwards, making you fall backwards in turn. With a gasp, you reach for his shoulders, holding onto his strong frame. His warm breath grazes your cheek as his blue eyes stare into your soul. You hear the camera clicking, but it’s faded into the background. The only thing you can focus on is your boyfriend and his enticing body, the exposed skin that’s glistening deliciously.

He leans even closer to you until his lips brush your ear, “I can’t wait to have you all alone tonight. Just you and me, finally”. You gulp at the list and arousal in his voice, thighs clenching at his tone, “I’ve been waiting for you all day”.

Safe to say your vacation with Andy was very satisfying.

.

.

Taglist: @teetles-and-other-stuff @winteralpine @slothspaghettiwrites @marvels-gurl @gotnofucks

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Be added to my Taglist here.

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

Legit the recent Tales of the SMP gave me Clue Vibes that I just had to write this out. You're welcome. So I decided to take the characters, give them backgrounds and motives for murder. Same campy fun that the Clue Movie has.

Sir Billium Blade the Third: A man of many words that include mostly making fun of commoners and poor people. Having come into his wealth when the Nether Portal closed for a while, his family used the gold they had to become rich rather quickly. He travels in his spare time, never staying in one place for a while. He's made enough enemies on his travels and possibly enough to kill to get rid of another.

His houses are filled with many objects he comes across in his travels, many of which some people love to get their hands on. Many that should belong in museums but sit ideal as objects of his wealth. it is also stated that there might be proof that he has ultra motives for his occasional get-together, covering up past murders in his home?

Traits include - Smart, Wealthy, and Charming. Cunning? Devious? and Silver-tongued?

Mister Boo (The Butler): This boy grew up only knowing servitude, his life was to the Blade Family. And still, yet he has to pay off his family's debt to the Blade Family for passage to this part of the world. Basically, an indentured servant. So long as he follows the rules, life isn't so hard, and Sir Billium rarely comes to this mansion. He's a man of few words if he is even allowed the speak. And has enough of a grudge to the Blade Family to kill for a taste of freedom. But, would he even have time to plan for murder with all the things that need to be done?

He knows this house like the back of his hand, all the passages, hidden rooms, and knows how to get from one end to the other without being seen. His main job is to make sure that the house is spotless and always ready for guests, along with serving Sir Billium.

Traits include - Quiet, Reserved, and Shy. Undetectable? Calculative? and Unforgiving?

Lord Sebastian Halo: To this man, fine wine is just one of many luxuries that only the rich can understand. Having gotten his wealth through means of deceit and trickery of those lesser than him, the Halo Family name is one that is both feared and praised. Having made the majority of the magical inventions still used to this day, Sebastian enjoys the high life of his family name through drinking and partying to his heart's content. However, he's also a man who knows all to well the people his family has stepped on to get where they are. And of the secrets that could kill to tear down his family's prestigious name.

The Halo Family is not a clean name, it's one bathed in the crushing of dreams and blood to get at its high standing. One being that Lord Halo, the founder of the family, made deals with darker beings to get the best deals. Also that he sacrificed people to this god for power as well. Proof of this is hard to come by, but it's very true. And one might also question the sanity of this family.

Traits include - Mysterious, Adventurous, and Witty. Ambitious? Delinquent? and Obsessive?

Oliver Arecaeshire Smichalist Cumbucket: Growing up in the land of Britain, a miserable island one might say if they don't live in it, Oliver has seen plenty going on in his small world. From wars, to family functions, and even betrayal. One might dare say he's well adverse in the arts of manipulation and conning. His family wealth comes from the Casino and the business *cough*Monopoly*Cough* they have on the gambling of people. He's lived long and seen many things come and go to have become jaded to life, but still eager to prove his families name to all, even if it is a silly name.

This family, though silly in name, has many secrets to hide. From bribes to the government to keep their hold on the gambling of people. To making sure alcohol was not outlawed so they could continue to drive up sales on the small island. Laugh if you will, but this family holds an iron grip on their area. Though not near as wealthy as the Blade Family, they are still high class. Oliver no doubt is aware of what might happen should his family's secrets get told. And it's has been thought he has killed once before.

Traits include - Discreet, Intrepid, and Eccentric. Liar? Paranoid? and Manipulative?

Lady Lyaria Chu: A beautiful and seductive women in her own prime, and heiress to the Chu name that hails from the west. She is well aware of her statue and well aware of how many suitors would fall at her feet for a taste of such wealth. It might seem odd that she has married three times and each of her husbands have mysteriously vanished. And that each of her husbands leaves everything of their name to her. Having no children, and being only in her late 20's Lady Lyaria has much to look forward to her in her youth and beyond. Her family name goes far back in the western area, having started as simple tailors that now make dresses for the wealthy everywhere.

Lady Lyaria had met Sir Billium when he visited her family's area and got to know him very well. Finding her seductive methods worked little on the cold man. But indeed they struck a chord with each other in their shrewd way of thinking about how the lower class is. It's a wonder to many about her ever-increasing wealth and expansion of her company could be due to the fact she murders her own husbands. But if word of that ever got out, she might have to silence a few people herself.

Traits include - Beautiful, Seductive, and Flirtatious. Ruthless? Greedy? and Narcissist?

James Napity: Coming from a lower wealthy family who only know of the Blade Family due to contracts with them through the Assassins Guild. James fought tooth and nail to make sure he and his family were safe from harm that could come to them. But in the end, it truly was all for not. Peasants revolted, and though James's family had done nothing to these wretched commoners they still sought to burn down his house. His family died as a result, and his wife blamed him for the fire, leaving him. His bitters grew to the lower class after that, the only kind-hearted man grew cold and hateful.

Before this though, he had met Billium as a childhood friend, though they rarely, if ever, got along. James found the other to be rather mean spirited and violent for his taste, but now he can see why. Though his family only has connections to the Assassins Guild as their dirty little secret, they haven't really used this since the time his great great great grandfather was head of the family. Since then, they sought better ways to grow their wealth and look where that got them.

Traits include - Calming, Perspective, and Philosophical. Wrathful? Jealous? and Cold-hearted?

Sir Karl Jacobs: What a strange man, no? His name hasn't ever been heard, yet this streamer is said to be rather wealthy. Not much is known about him which makes him even more enticing to the guests. He seems to just be here at this party for fun and nothing more, getting to know each of the guests. But isn't that just the thing? A strange man shows up from nowhere and seems to suddenly start murders at a party? Who's to say he's not here just to gain wealth through their deaths?

Karl is just a happy go lucky man and portrays as such. But have no idea how even he ended up here and just hoping to understand why he's here. Karl sets about to solve this murder while knowing he's a suspect himself.

Traits include - Funny, Happy-go-lucky, and sweet. Strange? Sly? and Thoughtful?

(Did include Drew as he’s pretty straight forward, unless you guys can think of something.)

[sneezefiction]

intoxicated

Akaashi x Reader - Scenario

event request: “Congrats on 600!!! maybe i request 8. intoxicated with akaashi pls??🥺🥺🥺💕”

a/n: i’ve always been one to admire strangers from afar. sooo, i thought Akaashi might enjoy seeing your sweet face in a uni/campus setting. fluffy sweetness right here <333

warnings: maybe slightly suggestive (but hardly??)

wc: 1720

---

It all started with a glimpse.

His speculative, grey-blue eyes catching yours from across a full lecture hall. They flickered over, soaking you in at every class period. At first, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been looking right past you, but at the tilt of his head, you were sure that his eyes were set on you. A connection formed instantly, sending shivers straight down your spine, giving pause to every mental function.

It got to the point that you had to remind yourself to breathe whenever the pretty boy sent you a modest smile, leaving you a flushed mess.

Because never have you seen someone that captivating.

How at the flick of his ember hair, brushing a too-long piece away from his eyes, you heart would be pounding and skipping. The way he spun his pencil around on his fingers or rested a studious hand on his chin, squishing his face slightly. How his eyes squinted thoughtfully at the prompt of a tricky question, focusing on a specific object to concentrate, only glancing back up when he came to a satisfying conclusion.

You were spell-bound...  and you didn’t even know his name.

But you could dream. And dream you would.

About what his voice would sound like whispering softly to you, his lips brushing against your ear and jawline. Or in the morning with a raspier tinge, waking you up with the gentlest of tones, a hint of coffee lacing with yesterday’s cologne.

How his arms would feel wrapped around your core on a lazy Saturday, soaking in his warmth and sinking back into his secure hold, adjusting accommodatingly for your comfort. To have his eyes drink in every inch of your face, analyzing you instead of his notes for a change.

But for now, you reluctantly settle for distant glances and curious expressions. Separated by a lecture hall and busy class schedules.

That is until you show up to class, finding someone in the usually empty seat next to yours. 

Their back is toward you for a moment, so you take it as a chance to scan their appearance. You quickly note the clean outfit, brown boots and simple colors complete with a long, grey cardigan. If you were forced to sit next to some mysterious person, you’re glad they at least knew how to dress well.

But your entire body runs cold as a familiar face shifts toward the tapping of your light footsteps.

Soft, navy glasses with thin frames. The gentle features made up of soft cheekbones and a sharp, slim jawline. Those bewitching eyes that could outshine the profound shimmering of a deep-blue sea.

It’s him. The one you’ve been fascinated by for weeks. And he’s sitting right there.

“Hi.” The tone is soft and pleasant… inviting even. And his eyes, so warm.

His voice is silk, skimming the surface of your skin giving you chills. Your current infatuation is speaking to you. And it’s definitely no longer a dream.

You should probably start responding now,

“Oh, uh, hello!” You stammer out, a flush dancing across your cheeks.

He just smiles at your dazed response, aware of your confusion but unfazed by your reaction.

Dammit, act like a normal human, y/n, you scold yourself for just standing there, your hands shoved in your pockets. 

“I’m y/n. it’s nice to meet you!” You return the smile, but it hardly begins to reveal the exhilaration of being so close to him.

“I’m Akaashi. Do you care if I sit with you?”

Oh, you could sit on me, you think to yourself but shake the thought from your head swiftly.

And Akaashi… a pretty name for such a pretty face. He’s polite too. Maybe a little formal, but friendly.

“Oh, sure! It’s not like I’m saving it for anyone or anything like that…” You let out a breathy laugh as you set your bag down next to his backpack.

The bustling of the room before class starts covers for the awkward silence between you two. You do your best to calm your nerves. This was the last thing you’d expected from your day and you sure as hell never planned to make a move on him. Your interest was supposed to fade as the semester closed out. It was going to be a lovely thought. Just a nostalgic, intangible tale of stolen glances or a story to tell about a beautiful stranger and what could’ve been.

But Akaashi had other plans.

He wanted to feel you out. To understand why your eyes rested on his figure whenever you thought he couldn’t see you. Because, to Akaashi, you’re the enigma. 

A puzzle in need of solving, determining, and piecing together until a full picture is resolved. And he hasn’t been this intrigued by an individual since high school… so who’s to say he shouldn’t pursue his curiosity?

He took a leap of faith, deciding that you were also potentially interested, which is how he’s found himself seated next to you. And you’re way more attractive up close than he could’ve imagined. 

As the professor begins to ramble through some odd topic, Akaashi’s side glances begin.

The way your lips part as you try to listen to the lecture, beautiful eyes scanning your notes, and then flickering back to the PowerPoint on the projector screen has him shifting around in his seat, wishing he could hear the song of your voice through them.  He can tell that there’s so much more under your surface. Behind your shy smiles and the way your tuck strands of hair behind your ear. That there was already a lifetime of morals, beliefs, habits, experiences, and stories that you could share with him. There is only so much he could examine in the span of an hour… and it’s not often that he’s drawn away from his studies. But in all honesty, he’d much rather listen to you, falling in love with your mind instead of just your body and entrancing facial features. 

Akaashi craves to discover it all.

You bite your lip, attempting to concentrate on anything but the boy next to you… but it’s hard because he’s close enough that you can smell his complex cologne mixed with the chai latte sitting on his desk. You even find yourself leaning toward him, your body urging you to break the distance between you two. Throughout the class you have to control yourself, sitting up straight, keeping comments and conversation to a minimum, because forget about learning anything… you’re barely able to think without being submerged in his presence. 

When his arm intentionally brushes against yours as he reaches for another sip of his tea, you almost lose it. Infatuation or not, he was doing something to you.

You barely register that Akaashi has leaned in to whisper something to you, but when it does, goosebumps race down your arms.

“Y/n…”

Your name feels so good rolling off his tongue.

Heat spreads across your face, “Y- yes?”

Very smooth, y/n. Nice stutter, you cringe at yourself.

“After class, would you want to go over notes?” His suggestion, though innocent in nature, sounds far more alluring… and you can’t tell if it’s just your brain making up the sultry tone or if Akaashi just sounds this good.

“Ah, actually I would love to… where to?” You recover, leaning back as a small smile plasters itself onto your lips, trying not to make your excitement too obvious.

“My dorm?” A fleeting smirk crosses his face, but ghosts away to conceal his feelings.

Oh.

---

“Keiji, you’re tickling me.” You squirm, trying to tug your self out of his grasp.

“No, I’m not, you just happen to be ticklish.” He counters sleepily. His fingers continue to dance down your back, running in soothing circles and tracing curves.

You huff, but you stop struggling to get out of his arms.

As terrible as the dilapidated campus dorms were, you’ve never felt safer than when you were buried in a blanket, tucked under your boyfriend’s arm, staring up at the old, cracked ceiling. The tired building was so close to falling apart that it was almost laughable.

But you don’t seem bothered.

It’s hard to worry about it when you’re constantly drowning in the pools of his eyes. Under the influence of his grazing touches and strings of thought flowing from his pretty mouth. An enrapturing blend of sophistication and authentic thought.

You shift in his hold, your back no longer pressing to his chest, choosing to lay face-to-face instead. For a moment, you are met with sloping features and the most peaceful of expressions. A sweeping wave of adoration flows through your body. It’s a warm tightening in your chest followed by a heavy, contented exhalation. He’s an angel.

But soon, Akaashi’s eyes softly blink open, making your heart do little flips. You would never be able to get rid of the butterflies that fluttered their way into your heart. He moves straight to reading your mind, analyzing every quirk of your eyebrow, what kind of smile you were wearing, how long you held his gaze for.

It’s funny how he’d assumed that you would only distract him from that one class. Instead, you have him in a dizzying spiral, taking up all of his attention. Filling his whole heart. His eyes naturally sought you out in noisy rooms full of people. His soul ached and burned for you and your pillowy-soft voice whenever you weren’t around.

It’s undeniable. 

You’re intoxicating.

Placing butterfly kisses on his cheeks, you earn a soft, closed-mouth smile. It’s easy to drown in his mesmerizing stare, taking it in, processing what he’s feeling and thinking, you lose track of time and forget about the dingy dorm room. 

Because it didn’t matter where you were. A classroom? A house party? A burning building? His artistry and perfection would outshine the most interesting of discussions and the brightest of flames. He’d bled through the pages of your life, leaving beautiful strokes of ink containing hues brighter than you could’ve ever imagined. Dipping into your past and pressing his way into your future. 

And it’s clear.

Akaashi is intoxicating.

The feeling is perfectly mutual… and to think it all started with a simple infatuation with the prettiest boy in your lecture hall.

With a beautiful stranger.

A mere glance.

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @starboybokuto

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list) 

[spectral-apparitions]

NSR: What they do when there's a bug in the room

Since I'm doing the main characters, there's a lot here. So under the cut it goes. No endgame spoilers, but minor spoilers for a few bosses that have alternate forms

Mayday: She's not a fan of bugs. She will SCREAM. She mostly shoos at it and tells it to go away until it scuttles off. If she really has to, she'll swat at it with something. Not to kill it, just to get it to move. She may not like the little things, but she won't kill them. If there's someone else with her she'll ask them to handle it. Well, more like beg them to. Then once it's handled she tries to pretend like she wasn't just freaking out.

Zuke: Also not a fan of bugs but not as loud about it as May. He will grab something to nudge it with to get it to move. Or if it climbs onto what he's holding he repeats "okay okay just stay just stay" under his breath while he takes it outside, then frantically waves the object around to get the bug to fall off. Usually between him and May, he's the one getting rid of the bugs. With anyone else around, he would much prefer they handle the bug, but if they're more scared of it than he is, he'll take action.

DK West: Indifferent to bugs. He'll pick them up in a cup and put them outside. Or if there's nothing to pick it up with, he'll take it in his hands, as long as it's not something that he thinks might bite or sting. He won't complain about having to move a bug, but he visibly shudders every time.

DJ Subatomic Supernova: Look this guy is a nerd. He's even a bit of a nerd about bugs. Unless this is something that actually poses some kind of threat, he'll pick it up in his hands and take it outside. He's used to being the only calm person when there's a bug, so he's usually the first one to get up and retrieve a bug as soon as one is noticed. If he's in the company of anyone else who can stay calm around bugs, he'll share any interesting facts he has about the one he's holding. Other people freaking out over bugs tends to annoy him. That said, he’s easily startled, and anything that could bite him, that moves suddenly, or he just can’t identify will freak him out. He might scream if it jumps at him.

Remi: Totally fine with bugs, even finds them neat. Out of the Sayu group he’s the one who handles bugs most often. He’ll pick up bugs with his bare hands or in a cup. If he’s alone when he spots a bug, he might leave it alone for a few minutes just to watch it crawl around.

Dodo: A little squicked out by bugs. By himself he mostly stays at a distance, traps it under a cup, then yeets it outside. Around anyone else though he usually hangs back to see if they'll take care of it. If they're more nervous about it though, he'll handle it.

Sofa: Out of the Sayu group he's the most bothered by bugs. He'll pick up a bug with a long object and put it outside and freak out about it the whole time. If anyone else is around he'll ask them to handle it. If he had to move it he'll wash his hands like three times even though he didn't touch it.

Tila: Finds bugs kinda neat but does not like handling them. She will pick them up in a cup and put them outside but she will not touch them. Usually the one in the squad handling bugs if Remi can't. Bugs inside bother her, bugs outside do not.

Sayu: Alright I'm not sure what situation leads to Sayu seeing a bug but since Sayu is for presentation it's probably in the presence of other people. She can't handle the bug herself due to how big she is (and in some cases, because she is presented virtually). But she will do her best to calm down whoever else is around. An advocate of gently putting the bug somewhere else, please don't kill our little friend :(

Yinu: She tends to get squicked out by bugs she's unfamiliar with, though once she learns about them she settles down. But there are a lot of bugs that don't bother her, like garden spiders and ants. Anything that she sees while she's gardening with Mama she has learned to not be afraid of. On her own she might pick up a bug and put it in a nice spot outside, out to the garden if she's at home. She'll even talk to the bug a little bit. If she's not quite comfortable she'll get Mama to handle the bug. Around people who are more nervous about bugs though, she takes on a teaching role and shows them that the bug won't hurt them as she picks it up and takes it away.

Mama: Very calm around bugs, actually. She's taught Yinu that bugs are good, important creatures and are not scary. She calmly picks up bugs and puts them outside. In the presence of anyone who is scared of bugs, she will offer to help them calm down. She has no patience for people who angrily hate bugs, though.

Rin/White: Around other people (other than 1010) he immediately goes to take care of it and insists that he’s got it, there’s no need to worry, even if nobody is actually freaked out. Usually picks it up with something or under a cup, but if need be will pick it up by hand. Incredibly calm the whole time. As soon as he’s back, he checks if anyone needs calming down.

Zimelu/Red: Secretly a nerd about bugs but keeps quiet about it because he doesn’t want to seem weird. Around the rest of 1010 he’s usually the one handling the bugs. When alone, he’ll hold the bug for a while after taking it out just to admire it. Around other people, he puts on a tough guy act while he picks it up and takes it outside. Gets a little shy with anyone who takes an interest in bugs and wants to share facts/watch the bug with him.

Eloni/Green: If there is a meme with a bug that resembles this one he’ll quote it. With other people he pretends to drop it on them after he picks it up. Unless of course they are genuinely scared by bugs, in which case he wouldn’t dream of pranking them like that. If Red is around he’ll get his attention to show him the bug, knowing his interest.  Haym/Yellow: Calls it cute no matter what it is. Around other people he will offer to let them look at it while he holds it, or watch as he releases it outside. For people nervous around bugs, he’ll try to show them that it’s okay. While not as much of a nerd, will happily listen to Red talk bugs.

Purl-Hew/Blue: Absolutely chill while removing a bug. Just stone faced and quiet. Kinda indifferent towards them but has a small appreciation for them seeing how Red and Yellow like them. Except for around other 1010 members, with other people he’s usually the first one who notices and the one to handle a bug in the room. A lot of times if he’s the one who saw it he won’t even say so to keep everyone else from freaking out. Incredibly gentle in placing it outside.

Neon J: Not a fan of bugs but has learned to put up with them. Traps it under a cup and puts it outside. At home it’s usually one of his troops that handles the bugs, and if he’s alone and sees it he’ll call someone else and pretend that it was just because he knows they have an interest in the things. Truthfully, he would prefer someone else handle bugs, but he’ll never admit that. Around people who are scared of bugs, he handles it himself and then checks on them.

Eve: Does not care for touching bugs, but can deal with them. She usually finds something to pick it up with and relocate it. She is uncomfortable with bugs being around her. While she can handle a bug situation on her own, she does prefer for someone else to do it. She also takes a bit of inspiration from bugs. Being able to create six limbs herself, she sees a bit of connection between her and insects, and sometimes reflects that in her art. She also finds interesting patterns and colors to work with by looking up butterflies, moths, and beetles.

Tatiana: Really does not care about bugs. She’s not a fan but also not a hater. She won’t kill them if she can put them outside, but also isn’t too bothered by killing them if need be. Especially if it’s something like an ant or termite that could end up in an infestation if left unchecked. When relocating a bug, she picks it up on or in something. She does find some beauty in them, even the unconventionally pretty ones. 

Kliff: Jumpy around bugs. He does not like touching them. He does not like handling them. Alone, he tries to trap them in a cup and then throw the cup outside. Around someone else, he simply moves to the other side of the room or somewhere else entirely, hoping they see it and handle it. If they don’t notice it quickly enough, he’ll mention that he sees it. He’s trying to get them to get rid of it without actually asking. He doesn’t like letting people know that he’s kinda scared of bugs because he’s afraid he’ll seem lame.

[moondustaeil]

If your moots (or blogs you want to be mutuals with) were fanfics, what would they be? I personally think you'd be a 'royalty au, protective brother king!Kun × princess/prince!reader × suitor!Sangyeon' fanfic! 📚

You just seem very mature and put-together to me.

hihi, my love!! This was so nice to do even if it took a long time, I loved it so thank you. Also thank you for saying what fic I would be, I wish I could live in that fic 🥺💙

If you’re not in here, I’m so sorry, I’ll still add you if you want or next time someone asks me this, I’ll add you!

you can find the fics and moots under the cut! I didn’t go in any particular order, just who popped in my mind at what moment and émi last bc she’s my world yes. This is way longer than expected

@sunhyuck

Au: soulmates 

Pairing: wanderer!Haechan x Kei 

Backstory: ever since Donghyuck accidentally met eyes with a stranger on the street, he is greeted with sunflowers scattered along his path. Young sunflowers dance under the sun, turning to the source of warmth and light. Just like the sun is all you've been gazing at ever since you walked on the same path as your soulmate. 

Why: because I truly think of Kei as one of the people I'll always go to and when thinking about soulmates, I think of people who find each other and accept each other despite different lives. That I will connect to the weird variety of subjects we talked about. I love you, my angel (if you're reading this). 

⠀

@neo-cult-ure 

Au: demonic entities , haunted house , roommates 

Pairing: composer!Taeyong x journalist!Ley 

Backstory: Taeyong has been shouting over his music to you for over half a year, almost begging you to dedicate a column to him and his music. When his equipment starts picking up the strange noises coming from the house, it becomes clear that the clock hasn't been stopping at 3:19am for nothing. With Taeyong discovering the entity living among you, you decide to dedicate the article to Taeyong and your invisible roommate. 

Why: do I even need to explain, this queen owns horror and the horror concept. She's the one I'll bow to because I owe her a lot and she's freaking talented.

  ⠀

@ceruleanskies 

Au: secret relationship 

Pairing: soloist!Yuta x stylist!Kai 

Backstory: ever since Yuta appeared on the red carpet with a short haircut, fans hunt for the person that made the decision to get rid of his mullet. All fingers point towards you, stylist of Nakamoto Yuta, from each finger a new opinion flows into your ears: too short, not the right colour, better looking with the mullet. Though one finger shoots the arrow right in the heart "they're dating." 

Why: because I truly adore Kai even though I'm way too scared to actually tell, I don't want to mess up and make her think that I'm some kind of weird person. In my eyes, she sparkles through my screen. 

⠀

@neonun-au 

Au: dating app 

Pairing: photographer!Johnny x Mads 

Backstory: just like he with a button alters between the different pictures on his camera, Johnny alters between the different profiles, swiping them in his desired direction. That's how you strand in his life and mostly his camera roll: the pictures he takes, one by one, capture you. 

Why: because even though we don't know each other well, I truly want to capture her in my memory and think about the smiles I had on my face when reading her messages. 

⠀

@flowerhyucky 

Au: arranged by fate (you can call this soulmates but I'm calling this arranged by fate)  

Pairing: Hendery x Ana 

Backstory: one day, the flowering plant amaranthus caudatus settles itself in the middle of an empty field. Another day, someone else's birth flower is planted next to the amaranthus caudatus. The young miracles of nature grow just as their owners do, however, they don't bloom until the love between you and Hendery starts to bloom. 

Why: I really like Ana and her URL actually inspired the story, I could write so many adorable aus to fit her but nothing would compare. I truly like her vibes and her personality is so beautiful, like wow. 

⠀

@smileyjaeminies 

Au: university , writer 

Pairing: writing student!Jaemin x student!Alex 

Backstory: exam season is closer than expected for you, with only a few days to go until you scribble your knowledge down on the exam sheet and a week to go until you need to hand in your paper. However, someone is willing you help you with that paper. Na Jaemin, student and writer who seems to have more control over his life than the earth has over global warming. As the word document increases in pages, so does your liking towards the young writer. 

Why: I met Alex thanks to thesunnyshow that we're both co-admins of, and it immediately felt as if we were friends. Alex helped me through the screen when I fell off my bike (yes haha, a 21-year-old one took the wrong brake) and I try to make it work when she's busy with uni but we have a shift. So I think we're a great team and that's why I picked this au. 

⠀

@fruityutas 

Au: broken relationship 

Pairing: Taeil x Emily 

Backstory: "Can I go on?" Taeil asks himself every morning, gazing upon your sheet-covering body as you drown in the world of sleep. The wind howls outside the window, and Taeil wishes the wind would push you towards him, but the soft blowing only pulls you further away from him. You feel a soft breath against your neck, the soft lips murmuring "without you, there's no way." 

Why: I don't know why I chose this particular plot, maybe it was because I was listening to a song and based it on that. Initially, I wanted to go for a cheerful and happy plot that reminded me of her URL, but I ended up with angst. I remember we had this talk about angst and went from that. Also, I adore her so much, I probably expressed that once in a gc already but I'm saying it again. 

⠀

@afishcalledfatin 

Au: friends to lovers

Pairing: Jungwoo x Fatin 

Backstory: for as long as you can remember, you've been friends with Kim Jungwoo. In your childhood and teenage years, the term BFFs would be engraved in each object you gave to each other, but now that you two are adults, life is different. You want to give him the world because he deserves everything, he wants to give you love because his heart is longing for yours. 

Why: because she feels like a friend that I've had for years, we don't always talk but when we do, it just feels like we've been friends since forever. I love that a lot about her and I love how easy she is to approach and talk to, she's a true darling. 

⠀

@heartyyjeno 

Au: strangers to lovers 

Pairing: Sungchan x Alesha 

Backstory: trainee life is tough for Sungchan, even thinking about having to walk for over half an hour to get to the dance studio is something Sungchan stopped looking forward to. However, he meets you on his way, walking along the same path to get to a different location. One step a day with you along his side is all it takes for him to look forward to it again, to walking with you and getting to know you better. 

Why: because Alesha is a great friend and we, unfortunately, don't talk as much as we used to, but that doesn't take away I'm always there for her and she's always there for me. Sungchan's walk resembles the many different talks that we had together and not all of them were fun, but we walked the path together.

⠀

@jimjamjaemin 

Au: youtuber , vlogger 

Pairing: vlogger!Mark x vlogger!Mona 

Backstory: Mark and you have been a couple for over a year, with the growing interest in your relationship, you and Mark start a YouTube channel. From a look in the life to fun challenges, you and Mark take over the crown of cute YouTube couples. 

Why: Mona and i didn't meet in the best situation, we started to talk when there was quite some drama in the fandom. But I love Mona and the thing she made me for my birthday reminded me of an editor which led me to a youtuber au!

⠀

@chaoticdeobi 

Au: bakery/coffee shop (bc how can I not, she kicked me out of the coffee queue) 

Pairing: soft-spoken!New x coffee shop owner!Bea 

Backstory: the coffee quote that hangs inside your coffee shop, is something that Chanhee cites every day. With a soft voice, he orders his coffee and then flashes you his smile when you proceed to tell him that the cookie is on the house. As you bring the coffee to his table, the last minute of your shift ticks by, and when you sit with him, you start your shift as girlfriend. 

Why: I literally love love love Bea, sometimes she reminds me of a soft-spoken person and other times she reminds me of a chaotic deobi. I still laugh to myself thinking about our talks, thinking about having fun together. We don't get to talk as much as I'd like, but when we do, I wish we could talk forever. 

⠀

@juyeonzz

Au: criminal , badass , something chique  

Pairing: criminal!Jacob x partner in crime!Qiu

Backstory: pointing the gun at his future victim, Jacob awaits your return. You explore the house: tugging at knobs of money-filled drawers, opening jewellery-clad treasures. But you are looking for the key to Jacob's heart, a golden key dusted with scratches, poisoned with old blood from when someone else locked his heart and pulled the key out harshly. 

Why: because Qiu really gives me chique and sad vibes, when I think about her, I think about a longing feeling described with poetic words. Qiu wasn't my first mutual but if I need to mention my first mutuals, there's a big chance I'll include her because it feels like she was one of the first people I got close to. 

⠀

@atbzkingdom

Au: dream 

Pairing: Haknyeon x Dee

Backstory: if Haknyeon were to have one more day on this earth, how would be spend it? He would make a timetable of which you are the only returning factor, because he would like to drown himself in time with you. Twenty-four hours in which he is the sun that illuminates each part of the world, the world that is you, rotating until the sun is replaced by the moon. 

Why: I don't know Dee that well because we haven't talked overly much, but whenever I think about her, I think about references with the earth, sun and moon or natural things. She's just a sweet person, and it seems really natural to talk to her! 

⠀

@127-mile

Au: muse , painting 

Pairings: Ten x Émi (but there's also Renjun in here)

Backstory: from the brush that Renjun manoeuvres, droplets of paint colour the blank canvas in a self-made story. Ten, the master that learned Renjun how to portray his muse, is now standing next to Émi, the young woman returning in each painting of Ten. Never had they stood next to each other: artist and muse. Never had they consciously smiled at each other. Never had they been real. Until now. Immortalised on the canvas, Ten hugs his Émi, they might both be droplets of paint with a shadow, but behind the canvas Renjun bids farewell to his last painting. His tear streaks the painting, blurring the line between reverie and reality 

Why: because Émi and Renjun are both my muses in life and writing, creatively but also in daily things. I proclaim my love for Émi a lot but that never takes away how genuine it is, because I genuinely love her and sometimes it seems so surreal that she's in my life. Sometimes I'm afraid that she's a dot, a droplet of paint that will fade by time until I have no more remains of her. But however long we have left, I will cherish and love her each day just like she loves Ten (isn't that a sad love story, I literally cried for like five minutes after this 😂)

[adobe-outdesign]

To quoth Se7en: WHAT'S IN THE BOX, SCOTT

Transcript under the cut.

So now that the angry mobs have left, let’s move on to Part 2: The Box. I know this sounds like a strange topic to switch to after we were just talking about the Brother, but we need to understand the box before we can answer that question. So to start, let’s go over:

[Everything We Know About the Box]

First, in FNAF 4 the Fredbear Plush tells Sammy that they will put him back together. In Scott’s post about the box, he said that the box contained all of the pieces put together. This links the box with Sammy.

Our next hint comes in Sister Location, when Michael says this:

And I found her. I put her back together, just like you asked me to. She’s free now.

People tend to misinterpret this as Michael referring to putting Ennard together, but that’s not the case. Rather, based on FNAF 4 and some things in TFC, it seems that being “broken” refers to the state of one’s soul - if you are broken, you are possessing something, and you can rest when you’re fixed. This both indicates Sammy is indeed possessing something, and creates a parallel between him and Ennard.

However, FFPS contains our biggest hint with Candy Cadet.

Candy. Candy. Candy.

I know, stay with me. Each of Candy Cadet’s stories relates to a different aspect of the lore. The story about the burglar probably refers to the original five kids and how their remnant is in Molten Freddy, or maybe just refers to Ennard. The second story about the woman and the keys likely refers to the Puppet - she gave life to the original five, but in the process let William find out about the remnant, which caused him to kill another five kids.

But then we get to the last story.

Now I will tell you a story about a little boy. He had a red snake that he kept in a metal cage, whose hunger could not be satisfied.

One day, the boy found five baby kittens outside his house. He brought them inside and kept them in a shoebox. He knew that the snake might kill them, but could not bring himself to get rid of the snake. He knew that if he chose one kitten to feed to the snake, it might be satisfied, but he could not choose. So, he went to bed, leaving the cage open. The snake went to the shoebox, chose a kitten at random, and ate it.

After five nights had gone by, the boy was full of regret, and cut the snake open. He pieced the remains together, and put the kitten back into the shoebox.

A young boy had five “kittens”, one of which was “eaten”. Filled with guilt, he took the pieces of the “kitten”, stitched them together into one, and put it into a box.

If you haven’t figured it out yet, the story is an analogy to FNAF 4. After Sammy was killed by the Brother’s negligence, he was wracked with guilt. He took the items that Sammy was possessing and stitched them together into one in an attempt to “fix” him. He then locked the final amalgamate into the box and tried to forget about the whole incident, which explains the “some things are best left forgotten” text that appears above it.

This means that Sammy is possessing multiple objects. These objects have to be something that a teenager could put together easily, and they must be small enough to fit into a box.

And if we go back to Sammy’s death, you might notice that as he’s dying, the plushies fade out around him, one by one.

It’s the plushies. Sammy is possessing his own plushies - IE his “friends”. The Brother realized this and stitched the plushies together into one, then locked it away and tried to forget about the entire incident.

But is that it? After all, this would mean he’s just possessing the plushies and has no further lore relevance. Well, we’re not quite done, which leads me to our next topic:

[The Nightmares]

So if you look at the SL Breaker Room map, there’s a dot for every Nightmare animatronic, which seems to confirm they’re real. However, there are two dots missing: Nightmare Fredbear and Nightmare are not listed.

One thing that’s been pointed out by many people regarding the Nightmares being real is that there are quite a few inexplicable things that occur during the games, such as Nightmare Fredbear’s head showing up on the bed and the hospital items that appear. A lot of theories have been tossed around regarding this, ranging from the Nightmares being dreams or even the disks from TTO.

However, I have a different theory. If you pay attention to the 6 AM screen, the numbers screw up before fixing themselves. People blame this on it being a dream… but if your alarm clock is going off, and you’re looking at your alarm clock, doesn’t that mean you’re awake? This indicates that the Brother is not asleep, and something is causing the protagonist to hallucinate.

There’s one other odd thing about FNAF 4 that you might have noticed. The gameplay has a weird obsession with plushies - Nightmare Foxy turns into one, and there’s one sitting on the bed where the Freddles spawn from. Why is there this weird connection between the plushies and the Nightmares?

Additionally, you’ll notice that the animatronics appear in a pattern that matches that of the minigame nights. Nights 1-4 are just the core four, representing the bullies. Night 5 is Fredbear, for the Bite. Night 6 is all four followed by Fredbear, showing the order in which the Bitten Child’s plushies fade away… and Night 7, with Nightmare, is after the Bitten Child has died.

Finally, the box appears at the end of Night 7, with the “some things are best left forgotten” text, and according to the code it was meant to be opened after an unprogrammed Night 8, thus meaning opening the box was supposed to somehow end FNAF 4′s story.

Putting all of that together, I believe that Nightmare Fredbear and his alternate form, Nightmare, are the Sammy’s ghost. He’s locked inside of the box, so he appears as a representation of the Bite and his own death as he attempts to kill his Brother. Ghosts have been shown to cause hallucinations in this series before - thus, it is safe to assume that he’s the one making you hallucinate all of the strange visuals in the game. This is why the Nightmares are connected to the plushies, and why the box was supposed to end the game - once you open the box, Sammy will stop haunting you.

While this explains everything nicely, we do have one potential issue: Scott’s post about the Box suggested that the answer was going to piss everyone off, and this explanation certainly wouldn’t.

Now, keep in mind that I’m less confident about this part of the theory than the first part. I do want to talk about it however, because it does have quite a bit of evidence going for it.

[Sammy, FNAF 1, and how they’re connected]

There’s actually one more hint about the Box that i kind of glossed over in the first part of this video. We do have another hint, and weirdly enough it comes from…

[FNAF World intro]

You see, at the beginning of the game, you’re told to leave breadcrumbs for someone, to help them find their way. After completing a series of minigames, you get a cutscene of the Fredbear Plush, which uses the same dialogue it says to Sammy with the addition of saying the pieces are in place. When you go back to the main screen, you’re rewarded with a statue of a not-crying child.

However, what’s weird about this is that the “pieces” you’re putting into place… are the hints leading to the hidden minigames in FNAF 3.

And what’s even weirder is that every minigame in FNAF 3 ties back into Sammy. We already went over Charlie’s toy Mangle in the last video. Stage 01 shows off Charlie’s kidnapping and involves Fredbear giving cake to the Foxy-mask kid, a reference to the Bite. BB’s Air Adventure shows 3 silhouettes under a tree, which seem to be a nod to the girl outside with her three toys.

Chica’s Party, meanwhile, shows us four cupcakes, one of which follows her around. Judging by the golden cupcake Easter egg, the one moving is gold - thus these represent Sammy’s plushies, as four remain static while the Fredbear plush follows him.

The glitch minigame shows RWQ giving cake to one of the kids. In FNAF 4, Sammy was terrified of the shadows of the animatronics. Scott later gave us this hint about “things in the shadows being misunderstood in the mind of a child”. And indeed, here we see RWQ helping the child rather than hurting them.

And finally, Happiest Day ties back into what the Fredbear Plush said in 4 - that the Puppet would put Sammy back together, IE help him pass on, which fits with her giving the final cake. The cake, meanwhile, could be the birthday cake Sammy never got to have because of the Bite.

But that’s… weird, isn’t it? We see the five kids pass on in this game, along with the now not-possessed FNAF 1 animatronics. Why are there so many connections to the Bitten Child in a game that seemingly has nothing to do with him?

Well, here’s the thing. There’s one thing that I see a lot of people get wrong with the FNAF timeline, and that’s the placement of William’s death. Most people place it after FNAF 1, due to it taking place in the FNAF 1 pizzeria.

However, this is not the case. William walks in and out of the saferoom freely in this minigame before dying there. Then, we hear this in Phone Guy’s message:

Uh, this is just to inform all employees that due to budget restrictions the previously mentioned safe rooms are being sealed at most locations. Including this one. Work crews will be here most of the day today constructing a false wall over the old door face. Nothing is being taken out beforehand, so if you left anything inside, then it’s your own fault. Management also requests that this room not be mentioned to family, friends, or insurance representatives.

Phone Guy says nothing is being taken out and not to mention it to insurance companies because William’s corpse is already in there. Note that he says they’re constructing a fake wall to hide the saferoom, and where does Phone Dude find Springtrap?

Uh, but you know, like I said, we’re trying to track down a good lead right now. Uh, some guy who helped design one of the buildings says there was like an extra room that got boarded up, or, uh, something like that.

William died in the saferoom, so management constructed the false wall over it to hide his body. He stayed there until Fazbear’s Fright found him behind said wall and removed him.

But that’s the issue - it’s Phone Guy who tells you about the sealing of the saferoom. Phone Guy was dead after FNAF 1, so this means William must have died before it.

While you might be wondering why the place looks like the FNAF 1 location, note this phone call from FNAF 2:

Uh, now, I want you to forget anything you may have heard about the old location. You know, uh, some people still have a somewhat negative impression of the company. Uh, that old restaurant was kind of left to rot for quite a while, but, I want to reassure you, Fazbear Entertainment is committed to family fun and above all, safety.

This sure looks like a location that was left to rot to me! It’s likely that after the FNAF 2 location shut down, Freddy’s was forced to move back into their earlier location where the murders took place due to budget reasons. William was the night guard before you in FNAF 2, so this was likely between 2 and 1 - they had already fixed up the Withereds at this point, but hadn’t finished cleaning up the pizzeria before Will died.

This creates an odd gap in the timeline, however. When incorrectly assumed the minigames take place after 1, the kids are put to rest after Will dies before passing on in FNAF 3. Easy. But in actually, the kids vanish before FNAF 1, which shouldn’t be the case as the animatronics are still possessed at that  point. Shadow Freddy even shows up in 3 with his FNAF 2 appearance, which would be weird if the ghosts had changed to match the FNAF 1 models. Likewise, the endoskeletons of the animatronics don’t look the same, which lends credence that these aren’t the Withereds. So what is going on here?

Well, in UCN we get a couple anime cutscenes. Freddy talks about it being his birthday and how Foxy has killed someone, so this is obviously a parallel to the older Brother and Sammy. What’s important here is that Freddy tries to defeat Foxy for five days before Foxy leaves, Freddy swearing to follow him. If Freddy represents Sammy, then that means that he followed the Brother to at least one other location than the FNAF 4 house.

Basically, what seems to be implied here is that Sammy is possessing all of the animatronics in 1. William dismantled the original 5 between 2 and 1. The kids stopped actively haunting the place at this point, though they don’t fully pass on until FFPS, hence why the gravestones pop up at the end. This left an opening for Sammy to possess the Classics in an attempt to kill his Brother, as he never opened the box he’s trapped in. This is why the Classics behave like the Nightmares, and in turn draw parallels to FNAF 4, such as Foxy not moving when you look at him.

This is why there are so many parallels to FNAF 4 in the FNAF 3 minigames - it’s not the original five you’re freeing, but rather, the pieces of Sammy. Not that TFC claims that broken children show up as multiple copies of each other, which we can assume applies to canon. All of the sprites look like greyscale versions of Sammy’s sprite - except for the Puppet, as she’s the only different character here.

Note also that the fifth child or piece here is probably not Golden Freddy, as is commonly assumed, but rather Fredbear - the one with the purple accents - matching Sammy’s last plushie and Nightmare Fredbear. The final minigame is greyscale and it’s too dark to fully see the head in the back of the ending screen, meaning that you can’t see the color of the top hat.

While the idea of Sammy being all the kids in this minigame sounds crazy, think about what Scott said during Dawko’s interview:

Dawko: This game, um, was when things went a little bit crazy with, like, the minigames, and stuff, and the good ending and the bad ending. Um, if you can answer this, which ending really happened?

Scott: I’ve given it a lot of thought as to whether or not I should answer this question. And I went back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth. And, the answer is very interesting, you know?

The answer is very interesting. The answer is complex. However, I’m not gonna answer it, because it’ll only cause strife. I mean, you see the kinda trouble that erupts, especially several years ago. The flame wars that would go on over Mangle’s gender, something as simple as that, you know? You know, I mean, you know, people with torches and pitchforks, you know? Now, yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna answer this one, I’m afraid.

This… seems weird, doesn’t it? The answer is either that the bad ending is canon or the good ending is, and yet Scott claims that the answer is “complex”. On top of that, the game itself implies the good ending is canon, as it’s just labeled as “the end” while the bad ending is specifically labeled as “bad”, making Scott’s hesitation all the odder.

However, this makes sense when combined with this theory. The good ending is canon, as Sammy is freed at the end of 3. But that’s the thing - it’s Sammy who’s freed. Everyone believes that these minigames show the original 5 kids, but the original 5 aren’t freed until FFPS. In that sense, both the good ending and bad ending are canon. That is indeed a complex answer, and one that would cause a ton of confusion and fighting. And it’s also an answer that would piss people off if they found out about it, leading back into Scott’s “would people accept it that way” pondering from the post about the Box.

Of course, Scott’s also said the contents of the Box have changed over time, so it’s possible that this was canon at one point but isn’t anymore, or maybe I’m just overthinking things and none of this is correct. Still, it’s a good thing to keep in mind as we move into discussing what the actual plot of FNAF is.

[Continued in Part 3]

[kamatael]

Greetings. This is Egor, my spiritual name is Kamatael. You can always write to me at gruzz2021@mail.ru if you want to chat. Today is May 21, 2021 and I decided to write this information. I want to touch on many topics in order to show the general picture of what is happening now. I ask the holy spirit for strength in prayer to tell all the necessary things, amen. I belong to the Orthodox Church.

I will begin with the revelation of the cross of Belial, or the satanic cross. You may have noticed how various people, such as singers or prostitutes, wear Christian crosses around their necks. Spiritually, such crosses do not worship Jesus Christ. I was in the spirit world and ended up in some kind of laboratory. I saw Satanists there, as well as Reptilians. One reptilian spoke to me. "Many people are deceived. They see the cross on us and think that we are worshiping Jesus. But this is not so, naive people. In fact, it is the cross of our God, Lucifer. It is the cross of Belial. It only looks like a Christian cross. It is worn reptilians to hide their essence and deceive you, as well as our servants on Earth. Look here. "

I saw a cross appeared in front of me. He was white. "This is the cross of our master. In this way we deceive people." After that I woke up. I saw a similar cross on the neck of Tony Ferguson, the mma fighter. In the past, I've talked about UFC hell of a tournament. Tony Ferguson wears such a cross. After losing, he tweeted a picture of Jesus on the cross of Calvary, and how he was given a painful hold. This is blasphemy in disguise. Therefore, if you see a cross on someone, it does not mean that this person serves Jesus Christ.

Now let's move on. Recently, the number of demonic attacks on me has increased. I saw the road. The demon told me, "You are a man, do you know that it costs a Christian just a little deviates from the truth, as he is already on a different road, to hell?" The next day I heard the voice of a demon in my dream. "Your God is coming to Earth soon. His coming is near." Then a mermaid wrote to me on the Internet and began to threaten that I crossed their path. I had to fight in the spirit world. After the fight, I saw a big man in front of me. He was bigger than me and had a sword. "I am your personal guardian. God's revelation is a good book. Satanists and sorcerers exploit your weak points. Be careful."

I woke up. The next day I saw a huge snake that wanted to attack me, but I was able to escape from it. She moved very quickly. Let's remember the Bible, the devil walks like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.

Now I want to talk about the dangers of anime and mundane music. I know that this is a hackneyed topic and there is a lot of talk about it. But I will also say a few words. The problem is that many Christians lose their grip and succumb to worldly things. I studied the demonic influence of the Sailor Moon anime. About the warrior of the moon. The moon is a symbol of the occult and is often used in anime, along with pentagrams, they insert rock music there, to summon demons, sexy women, so that sex demons can influence people, as well as curses and they constantly say there, "damn, heck". These are all spells of the dark forces.

After watching the anime, I went to bed. I dreamed that I was washing in the shower and a girl from this anime was sticking to me, but her eyes were black. “Get away from me, Satan,” I said to this illusion and woke up. Prodigal demons started working immediately after watching. I found anime with names such as "Beelzebub", the prince of demons mentioned in the Bible, as well as "death note", this is the book of hell, the names of dead souls. The devil loves to praise himself through anime. Already from the names it is clear that these anime are made in hell. In the spirit I saw a huge demon in hell, this is the scribe of hell. He holds a fiery feather in his paws and gives revelations to anime producers. Under his leadership, such a satanic cartoon as "spawn" was released, as well as comics.

Then I started to study the popular Japanese anime "Bleach". In the splash screen, I immediately saw a pentagram, as well as blasphemy over the bright angels. In one of the episodes, they showed the Bible and the hero said, "Damn, this is not what I want." Further, a parody of the crucifixion of Jesus and blasphemy against the spirit of the saint was shown, when a fiery dove wanted to kill a girl. And then a hero appeared who called himself Lucifer and the hell gate. I watched 64 episodes in a row and then they put in more rock music and for a couple of days I didn't feel important. This can be characterized in one word - devilish schizophrenia. A huge spiritual negative impact on the psyche of immature and not understanding children, who is watching, the illusory jungle of demons, a mirage.

I won't watch it anymore, even for study. Then I studied the lyrics of some of the singers and saw the demonic language that Christians and Satanists understand. Mention of hell, fire and souls. Then a demon of music appeared to me, who called himself "Didjetal". He paralyzed my body and wanted to suck my spirit out, but he failed. Since I have touched on the topic of music, I move on to the next important topic - Eurovision.

I myself do not watch this show, but from the news I learned that one of the singers called her song "the devil". I am writing this and my phone is very buggy. Demons prevent me from writing this. So great is their anger at this information. So, when I saw this in the news feed, I decided to find out more.

"El Diablo" (The Devil) - a dance mix performed by Greek singer Elena Tsagrinu reached the final of the Eurovision Song Contest -2021, which is now taking place in Rotterdam. The final itself will take place on May 22.

“We must get rid of this blasphemy,” said one of the priests. “She is an insult to Cyprus and is a danger to our children.” “This is Satan worship,” protester Eleni, 62, told Ioannou. “The old Eurovision was so good. And now Satan is in charge there. " Residents of a nearby house decided to "troll" the protesters and played the song "El Diablo" at full volume.

The Cypriot Broadcasting Corporation PIK has stated that the song is actually about a battle between good and evil. It is worth noting that "El Diablo" is not the only song at Eurovision 2021 dedicated to a fallen angel. The Norwegian performer TIX performed the composition "Fallen Angel", the performer himself appeared on stage with the wings of an angel, and devils roamed around the singer, to which he was tied with chains.

I see that even an experienced Orthodox woman, 62 years old, said, "Previously, Eurovision was good." Earlier? it has always been devilish. What's in the 1980s, what's today. The only difference is that now the dark forces are acting more openly, and not veiled, as before. Only a few dozen people came to this rally in Cyprus. This speaks well of how few soldiers of Jesus Christ are not indifferent to the situations that are taking place in the world. Small flock, so it is written in the Bible, and so it is. Not everyone who calls himself a Christian will go to heaven. Jesus spoke of this while he was on earth. In general, this whole situation is just a shame for Orthodox Cyprus. I understand that any country, including my Russia,disgraced at this satanic meeting, but it was the representative of Cyprus who spoke more openly than others. In general, this is another sign of the end and the imminent coming of the Savior, and I do not advise Christians to watch these satanic, demonic games. Don't give them glory from watching their show. Don't give praise to demons. Amen.

And the last thing I want to talk about in this piece of information. Consecrate all your data on the Internet with the blood of Jesus Christ. I have noticed that the number of Satanists, witches and sorcerers has increased, especially on dating sites. They also contacted me. These applications, such as wattsap, youtube, vk, included a lot of demons and their goal is the murder and destruction of the children of God. They conjure and damage photographs, put spiritual chains and, due to the spells of magicians, tie people to this dark, digital world. I saw many mermaids seducing men, as well as demons disguised as humans. There is a lot of black magic and lies in these places. It is best to delete all your data, but if you are there, be careful.

Satan is very cunning and easily deceives many. With the help of black magic and curses, they killed a lot of people through social networks and threw them into hell. They have special scouts, I ran into them. They closely follow everyone and they have access to any of your data - photos, messages. They even showed it to me. Therefore, there is no data security. Don't believe this. As soon as you register on social networks, the scouts immediately observe you. If they see that you are a Christian or that you are preaching, then they become the object of increased attack and interest. Satanists and witches connect to you and begin your destruction. They are looking for weak points through which to kill you, or hurt you.

If they fail to kill, they will try to take you away from Christ and the body of Christ. These places have become very dangerous. They previously belonged to demons, but today the Christian is in them like death. No acquaintance, no woman, or man, in my opinion, is worth risking salvation and life in these places. I conclude my testimony, who have read to the end, be blessed. Amen!

[haloud]

“Not As Lost, Violent Souls:” Alex Manes and T.S. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” -- part 1

- intro -

Epigraph: Connections

Alex's connection to "The Hollow Men" begins as early as the poem's own epigraph--a pair of referential lines that open the poem. The first, a reference to Conrad's Heart of Darkness, a story about imperialism, racism, and a man growing disgusted with the "civilized" world, which brings to mind Alex's speech about war and atrocity from episode 1x12:

Kyle: What if there's some truth to it? That the aliens are killers [...] What if the good ones are the exception to the rule?

Alex: You just watched your government blow up a building full of elderly people. Your brain is trying to justify the slaughter so that your government can be right. You want to believe that we're safe. That goodness prevails. That's the coldest reality about war. Sometimes you're just doing what you're told. Then, all of a sudden, things are burning, people are screaming...And then you look around, and you realize that the evil is you.

The second epigraph reads "A penny for the Old Guy," a reference to Guy Fawkes and the custom of asking for pennies with which to buy fireworks in the days leading up to Bonfire Night. Drawing this parallel to Alex, I ask: who is he? Who is Guy Fawkes? Depending on who you ask and when, Fawkes could be either a Catholic dissenter who planned to blow up a government building and failed miserably, or he could be a revolutionary anti-government symbol. And who, in turn, is Alex? Is he a soldier following orders and fighting his father's battles despite his own principles and desires? Or is the the "black sheep" of his family, doing what has to be done to survive and shoulder the burden of his legacy, working to make the world a better place? And will he succeed or fail, as Fawkes did?

And that's just two lines, placed before the poem even begins. I did say this was going to get long.

Part I: The self in effigy

Getting into the poem proper, the first stanza reads as follows:

We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar.

The first image of the poem, the "stuffed men...headpiece filled with straw" is a scarecrow or effigy, continuing somewhat from the epigraph of Guy Fawkes. This dummy (meaning an inanimate, man-shaped object) is a constructed being in a shape of a man, empty inside, created for a purpose outside its own, created to be used and discarded. The scarecrow's only purpose is to sit alone in a field, subject to the slow decay of the elements; the effigy's purpose is to be burned, often to make a statement against its subject. In a sense, Alex the soldier is a scarecrow set up by his father—set up for a purpose and left alone in the proverbial field to protect the farmer’s interests, aka his father’s legacy. And in another sense, Alex the soldier is an effigy of his younger self, burning to prove a point. Both the scarecrow and the effigy are powerless; as the poem says, “Our dried voices…are quiet and meaningless.” Eliot scholar Grover Smith says of the "figurative straw dummies" that they

[D]esignate not only the ineptness and spiritual flaccidity of the speaker, but…his inability to attain love. If one turns back…to some of the most ancient as well as the most persistent rituals of pagan Europe, it is the straw men who seems to have functioned in certain of the fire festivals as a sacrificial representative of the vegetation spirit or as a scapegoat ridding his folk of accumulated ill-chance. (Smith)[1]

And, then, connecting the straw dummy symbol once more to the epigraph, Smith says “the commemoration of the fifth of November itself reflects the custom of burning in effigy the bearer of local guilt, the accident of the season.” The idea of Alex as a scarecrow, essentially a puppet, calls back to his words in 1x13 that ever since he enlisted he has been fighting his father’s battles and barely recognizes himself anymore. The idea of Alex as an effigy—the “bearer of local guilt”—calls back to the idea that becoming a soldier would constitute a change of state for a young, gay kid into a “real man.” Neither is a charitable or wholly accurate reading of Alex’s enlistment, but nor are they wholly inaccurate. Alex and his father, so closely enmeshed in his identity as an airman, have both at different times seen him as a puppet and as an effigy, as represented in the symbolism of the poem.

The poem continues with a couplet:

Shape without form, shade without color Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

These lines describe the state of the hollow men, only half of what they should be, held back and impotent. I don’t have much regarding Alex to say about these two lines, but they are a useful point of reference for later in the poem when these contradictory dichotomies come up again.

Next, we look at the final stanza of section I:

Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death's other kingdom Remember us - if at all - not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men.

Much has been made in scholarship of “The Hollow Men” of the image of the eyes and to what Eliot could be referring by “death’s other kingdom.” The eyes are, as stated in Eliot’s own letters, a reference to the eyes of Beatrice that persist throughout Dante’s Divine Comedy—the eyes of the main character’s lover. So here I mention Michael for the first time. If I am assigning Michael to the Beatrice role, here, it seems to set him apart from the hollow men themselves, though much of the imagery—the straw puppets, desert imagery to come later, and the general theme of hollowness in itself—of the hollow men would not be out of place applied to Michael. However, I choose to interpret the role of the eyes in the poem as well as the plea in this stanza as befitting Michael’s place in Alex’s life. Michael has crossed into an “other” kingdom, unattainable, separate. And Alex does not want to be remembered as lost or violent, because neither of those things would be the truth. It is not because he wants to exonerate himself nor because it is any more heroic, but he wants to be remembered as he truly is, as both a puppet manipulated by the force that manipulates them both—his father—and as the effigy made of himself, by himself and others, without his own permission. Both the passive and the active states of being. Again, I’ll call on his speech from 1x13, where he says, “I could tell you that I didn’t want to leave, but I did. After what my father did to you, I wanted to be the kind of person who won battles. It felt good.” There is violence there, inherent in being a soldier. There is also a sense of being lost; he was thrown into the military because he had no escape from it, so he made the choice to embrace it even though he wanted his life to go down a different path. However, in the 1x13 speech—made to Michael, or, in other words, in Michael’s eyes—he states his desire to move on from that place he got stuck ten years ago.

Part II: Make it feel over

The second part of "The Hollow Men" begins:

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom

As always in poetry, and in Eliot specifically, there has been debate for almost a century about some of his wording. In particular, the different "kingdoms" he references throughout this poem are subject to much discussion. For the purposes of this analysis, I subscribe to the interpretation that "death's dream kingdom" just refers to sleep. Taking the “eyes” as Michael’s presence in the poem, these lines read quite simply—Alex can’t bring himself to look at Michael, to look for him, to acknowledge him at all, even in dreams.

This entire section can be read as an entreaty to "the eyes":

There, the eyes are: Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind’s singing More distant and solemn Than a fading star.

The broken column, the swinging tree (implying an untethering from the generally solid nature of trees), the distant voices, the singing wind, the fading star—all these images bring to mind a sort of ruined glory. Something that once was great, grand, whole, or tangibly real is no longer. The feeling of finality conveyed here, both in the talk of death and in the words used themselves, makes this a particularly poignant point of reference for Alex to use when Michael asks him to “really make it feel over.”

The poem continues:

Let me be no nearer In death’s dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer –

The scarecrow/straw dummy imagery returns in this section; this time, however, the dummy has slightly more agency, though it is not using that agency to do anything of significance. It “wears…deliberate” clothing and “behaves” like the wind does. Of this section of the poem, Smith says, “here [the eyes] are the upbraiding eyes of one incarnating his lost redemption: the speaker takes refuge in apathy; he desires to think of himself only as a scarecrow. He shrinks from everything but concealment among the other hollow men.” Alex uses the identity impressed upon him as something of a shield—his own “deliberate disguise”—and, similarly, he uses distance as a shield as well. The wind is changing, forceful, uncatchable, untouchable, invisible—all things Alex might wish to be, all qualities that might protect him.

Finally, this section ends:

Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom

Fading, death, final twilight—so many words in the second segment of the poem describe something coming to an end, inevitably and inexorably. Even before the final lines of the poem, the reader is being primed to accept that sometimes things end “with a whimper.” They die slowly, like how day fades into night. They simply fade away, with no celebration or fanfare. These lines also include a reference to yet another “kingdom;” in this case, many people consider the twilight kingdom simply to be death itself. The speaker does not want to be closer to the eyes, whether out of fear, despair, or apathy: not now, and not even in death. Again, this section really makes it feel over.

So, just to recap what we’ve established so far: the epigraph and the first two segments of “The Hollow Men” portray the speaker as a man who has lost a sense of identity or purpose, both among the hollow men and wishing to be more like them, haunted by a vision of “eyes” and wishing to live more completely in the meaningless, liminal space inhabited by the hollow men. If Alex is the speaker, trapped in a sense in the world that makes “hollowness” the only state of being achievable, then the desire to inhabit that distant, liminal space is representative of the defense mechanisms he has developed to navigate the world. He takes control, avoiding vulnerability. He runs away, keeping intimate interactions with the person who makes him most vulnerable on his terms. In sections III-V, the imagery of the eyes grows ever stronger, as the world of the speaker grows more dismal and disconnected, concluding with the breakdown of connections inherent in the Shadow falling between such deeply connected things, and the final statement about the end of the world.

[1] Smith, Grover. T.S. Eliot’s Poetry and Plays: A Study in Sources and Meaning. Chicago: U of Chicago, 1956. Print.

[angelkurenai]

A supernatural marvel - Dean Winchester x Reader x Steve Rogers

Title: A supernatural Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: Set in season 13 and Post Avengers: Infinity War, No Infinity War spoilers 

Word Count: 7,111

Summary: Imagine being transported in the Supernatural universe, with no memory of your life, where you become a hunter and fall in love with Dean. Only for a very important person from your past to come looking for you and change it all.

“This is a whole new of weird, that's all I can say.”

“We'll find something. There must be a connection.” the younger Winchester sighed.

“Still, doesn't explain any of it, Sam. Demons after an orange glowing rock? For what reason to begin with?” the older Winchester scoffed, flipping through another page that he wasn't really paying attention to but pretended to read for the heck of it.

“I don't know Dean, honestly I don't know. We've been through almost every book in the bunker. If there is a solution then it should be in one of these books at least.” he shrugged, motioning to the books around them and taking a large sip of his own coffee as Dean shook his head with a groan.

“Days like this I really start to miss Crowley.” he mumbled “How's it going over there kid?” he asked, looking at Jack who just looked like he had all the energy in the world to go through all of the books in the bunker from the beginning.

“Great!” the nephilim perked up “I never knew just how many different realities can be out there, it's amazing! And all the ways to accessing them, you could never believe that! There is this one, a man of letters has been there, and he wrote it all in his journal. It was back, during World War II. There he joined a group of scientists and he witnessed the discovery of-of the Tesseract. He described it as a cube of great power, “Infinite power”-” the Winchesters shared a look.

And Jack continued “Infinite power, so big that it could wipe out the planet, glowing with a power never seen by man before and he didn't think it was from Earth either. He didn't speak about other universes though so I am suspecting space? Something- something about it was familiar to uh gama radiation? I don't know what that means, but he points out it emitted a low amount that they could barely trace. However, he mentionsthat it fell into the wrong hands, meant to be used as a weapon, an organization called-”

“Jack?” Dean raised a hand to stop the rambling boy “Look, that's good and exciting and all, but we're looking for something more important here, kid, so if you could focus on that it would be... nice?”

“Oh, oh... yes of course. I- I understand. I'm sorry, I just...” he trailed off, looking down at the page in front of him “Captain America did so many amazing and brave things in that time, it is very inspiring.” a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Captain who?” Sam frowned and the grin returned on the young boy's face.

“Captain America.” he said with such pride it light up his entire face “He lived during World War II, when the Tesseract was first seen by the man of letters I spoke about. In fact, he had met Steve Rogers in person - that is his real name - during a fight in-”

“Alright, yeah I get it.” Dean cut him off gently “You got yourself a man-crush, that's great but uh Jack how about you take a break huh buddy? Think all these books might have done a number on you. Go contact Cas in case he has any news?”

“I- I'll- Yeah of course.” he seemed reluctant to let go of the journal he had been reading but did so inevitably and picked a phone to call the other angel.

With a sigh Dean picked up the journal, taking the look on the first page at th photo of the man that it belonged to, flipping through the pages and with a simple look at the drawing next to the text he rolled his eyes and closed it “Heros and shields with stars on them. These men of letters had more imagination than I thought.” and he put it back in pile with the rest of the books they'd read.

“Yeah, well to some people, monsters are just as much of fiction as those can be to us.” Sam mumbled, not looking up from his book.

“Yeah, wish these books really were just a nightmare right now and I'd wake up any minute.” Dean grumbled “I mean for all we know, it could not be our kind of thing in the first place.”

“Demons killing innocent people to get to a, I remind you Castiel's words, unparalleled source of power. Yes, Dean of course it isn't, how stupid of me to think something like that!” he gave his brother a bitch face that only earned another groan and soon a pout as Dean rested his chin on his hand. If there was one big thing he could gladly change about hunting was the researching part, especially when they had a whole bunker full of books to go through.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” he muttered, both of them knowing he was just looking for an excuse out of all of it. And maybe he found it.

“Mornin'.” you mumbled with a small yawn, rubbing your eyes sleepily with an adorably beautiful smile – at least to him – as you walked in the map room.

“Morning, sweetheart.” he grinned, leaning back in his chair as he admired, for longer than appropriate, the way his slightly unbuttoned flannel fell over your shoulder “How did ya sleep?”

“Great” you breathed out with a cute smile, padding bare foot towards him “Think I might be actually addicted to you and your bed, D. I have never slept for this many hours before, or this good.” you gave him a shy smile but he only felt his cheeks hurt from how widely he was smiling.

“Can't say it's not nice to hear you say it, princess.” he winked.

“All good in Dean's bed then?” Sam asked softly, grinning mostly because of the glare he got from the older Winchester.

Sure, it had been a relief to say at least to Sam how he felt for you when he's been on the brink of losing you but now he really regretted it. Because, and he should have seen this coming, the younger Winchester did his best to push Dean into confessing the truth about his feeling for you to you. But that didn't mean Dean was anywhere near ready, despite how easy Sam insisted it was. It wasn't as if he forgot how to breathe whenever you looked at him with those big (y/e/c) eyes that made his heart skip a beat but... yeah he totally forgot how to breathe. He still remembered the first, and only, time he had tried to ask you out; because of how he had choked on thin air and rambled nonsense he still didn't remember before practically running away from you. The only good thing coming out of that was your adorable giggle when you comforted him about it, although you didn't understand it.

“No weird dreams or nightmares this time, it feels like it's been forever.” you breathed out, bringing him back to reality “So hell yeah, it's amazing. And all of that thanks to Dean.”

“'M glad to hear.” he breathed out, completely ignoring the raised eyebrow he got from his brother.

“Good to know, because you ain't getting rid of me anytime soon. Especially with how much I love my new pillow.” you grinned, leaning down to kiss his cheek and he squeezed your hand that had sneaked on his chest.

“Your pillow is certainly not complaining.” he smirked, kissing your cheek almost in a reflex and without realizing it. It had become a habit anymore but as he let go of you and looked at his brother he realized it when he got that knowing smirk.

“But how could you possibly know that?” Jack's voice was heard as he came back, a frown planted on his face and a tilt of his head there too “Pillows are... they do not speak, they're objects, how could you know it is not complaining?”

“Yeah, how could she know that Dean?” Sam snickered as with a huff, Dean grabbed a light book at least and threw it at his brother, who effectively dodged it.

“You know what, Sam?” he glared at his brother, but your soft laugh managed to calm him down.

“I'm speaking metaphorically, Jack. Dean was my pillow last night, his chest to be more specific, that is all.” you explained to the young man.

“But... but why would you sleep together? I know so far that couples do that.” he blinked, approaching you to take his previous seat “Unless...” he trailed, eyes narrowing until he broke a grin when he looked at Sam “Did Dean finally admit how he feel-” he started but got cut off by Dean's loud coughing, good timing with drinking his coffee, as Sam snickered and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“No, uh Jack no-” Sam tried to clear his throat, glancing at his brother “Not... really.”

Your lips parted, ready to question him but decided against it and patted Dean on the back “You'll live?” you asked softly and he gave you a forced smile.

“Oh yeah, I definitely will.” he cleared his throat, looking between his brother and the nephilim “Someone else might not, though. If he doesn't keep his mouth shut.” he glared at them as Jack shifted nervously in his seat.

“Shut about what?” you asked with a small smirk and he blinked, looking up at you with a frown.

“Uh nothing to worry yourself about, sweetheart.” he said with the most casual smirk he could master and a wink just to distract you. And oh did it work.

You hummed, stealing his mug from his hand and taking a large sip “You're so lucky I'm sleepy.”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes again before sitting on his lap. Dean didn't blink, merely smiled to himself because of how much at home it felt for him to have you close to him and because this was a new habit for the two of you that others had not seen yet. He didn't even miss a split second to open his arms and let you cuddle on his chest, helping you bring your legs up and rest your head on the crook of his neck and making sure to send a warning look to his brother before he had the chance to question it.

“Is that... something friends do too?” Jack leaned in closer to Sam to whisper but it wasn't as low as he'd expect.

“Yes, yes they do.” Dean said in a rough voice, giving him a look that made him nod weakly and scoot back in his seat “Did you make that call?”

“I... yes, but he didn't answer so I left a message.” he replied.

“Maybe we should try mom?” Sam suggested and Dean gave him a slow nod, although truth was that his mind was more focused on you sleepily drinking his coffee – he couldn't bring himself to ask back for it – all cuddly and all around beautiful in his eyes with your messy hair and even more his flannel that he couldn't bring himself to fix.

“What are ya guys up to?” you asked, a little more awake this time “And what are all these books for?”

“Uh yeah we didn't inform you about it, but we got a lead on that case with the demons and we're trying to find a connection now.” Sam said and you hummed, handing Dean his coffee back but he shook his head because – and as bad he needed it – he simply couldn't take it when he saw how much you wanted it too.

“And who's our lead?” you placed the mug on the table, a small giggle slipped past your lips when Dean held your sides for support, the moment you reached out for one of the books out of the pile. What none of you noticed was that it just happened to be the journal Jack was holding in his hands minutes ago.

“Ticklish much?” he smirked, raising an eyebrow and you hit his chest giving him a look.

“Don't you even think about it.” you warned, although you knew very well he already had and would gladly use it to his advantage. And would you both love the hell out of it, even if you wouldn't admit it.

“What.” Sam corrected, gaining your attention “Uh a stone, a gem of sorts. Orange, glowing, great power although we don't know about what exactly. They used it to gather all those souls from heaven which Cas said went missing two days ago. My best guess is that it could be something similar to the Seal of Solomon that we have, but we're jut looking.”

“Orange glowing stones huh? What's next, men flying in suits of armor?” you scoffed, shaking your head with a smile as you skipped through the pages without reading a word, only paying attention to the drawings or designs here and there “So, what do we have so far? Anything on what it could be or at least where from?”

“Hard to tell.” Dean mumbled, practically forcing himself to focus on the book in his one hand and not the girl on his lap. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms completely around you and smother you with love... but that would probably earn a couple of looks from his brother for sure.

“Hm” you hummed, stopping for a moment when you took notice of a sketch. It probably shouldn't have struck so much to you, because what was so special about a geometric cube in a journal of a scientist and all kinds of scientific data below? Yet there was something that made you stop. And despite the fact that it was only a couple lines, for a moment your eyes could see it in front of you, glowing an icy blue that made goosebumps form on your skin and for a moment you actually felt so cold as you traced your fingers over the lines of the cube floating in the air, not paying attention to the darkness enveloping everything else around you until-

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Dean said when you jumped at the loud sound the book he threw to the side made.

“'S ok.” you blinked, being brought back to reality and you rubbed your eyes tiredly “So-” you cleared your throat “Not even an idea, judging from what you've read, at least?”

“Well, we were really thinking-” Sam started mumbling, eyes focused on the book in his hands.

“Space!” Jack cut him off before he could complete his sentence and all three of you looked up from your books at him.

“Space?” you asked with a giggle and the young man nodded his head eagerly.

“Yes, space, like the Tesseract! Like he described it to be!” he pointed at the journal you were holding “The Men of letters were very smart men, and he was one of the brightest scientists of his era. If he said that it was from space, then he's probably right!”

“Alright, first-” Dean spoke up “He implied, not said. And he said it about a glowing cube, not our magical stone. And second; Jack, the Men of letters are always a fucked up situation. Most of them were smart but also pretty off their rockers. We can't trust a- a diary of- of a dude that liked to draw rainbows anywhere he liked to.”

“You know him?” Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean took a look at the inside of the cover of the journal and nodded his head.

“Spotted a couple of his books around here, don't know where I threw them away. Look, point is he had clearly lost it after that trip to the other universe, if that ever happened, so we need to trust facts and not-”

“You're a man of letters, though.” you pointed out with a smirk, getting up from his lap.

“I'm-” he narrowed his eyes at you as you laughed with a shrug “And you're a woman of letters, ok?” he retorted and Sam only rolled his eyes at your childish behavior.

“Yeah, but all the women of letters I've read about were badass as hell!” you shrugged, handing Jack the journal as he eagerly started flipping through the pages.

“Like Peggy Carter!” he said with a boyish grin and you nodded your head with a proud smile, hands on your hips.

“Exactly, like Peggy- Wait, who's Peggy? I haven't read about her.” you frowned.

“Oh she was in this other universe I was talking about. He met her there, she wasn't really a woman of letters because I don't think there was such an organization, but he refered to her as that many times. He gave her that title because of how brave she had been!” he said, looking between you and the journal in his hands and constantly flipping pages looking for something you didn't know “And of course, for the way she too fought alongside Captain America.”

“...Who?” this time the words came breathlessly from your lips as you felt all air get knocked out of your lungs. Your heart made a painful leap to your throat and your heart twisted nervously. Your blood almost ran cold yet there was a familiar kind of warmth spreading through your chest, one you felt only with Dean, that confused you and made you more dizzy than you had been all these days whatsoever. But, even despite the shivers that ran down your spine, you felt more scared because you didn't know why you felt all of these oddly familiar emotions at the mere mention of-

“Steve Rogers.” Dean spoke, making your eyes snap to him “Yeah, yeah we get it. But kid, we have no proof that he was real and even if he was, what kind of connection would a dead guy have to our story? Because he'd have to be a good over 90 now.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Dean's probably right.” Sam shrugged “The glowing, “Infinite” power thing could be a connection but we're looking at things belonging in totally different universes here. And it's all far too big even for us, or those demons. Why not stay more focused, yeah?”

“Exactly. Plus, the colors don't match to begin with.” Dean said with a smirk.

“I'm-” your breathing had become shallow and heavy, as if your lungs actually struggled to breathe “I'll...” you tried to swallow the lump in your throat “I better go change, in case we need to jump into action very soon.” you forced a smile that was barely visible before with shaky legs you left the boys frowning in worry as they watched you leave in a hurry for a couple seconds.

“Did she really... not have any nightmares this time?” Sam asked softly and Dean pursed his lips, sighing heavily.

“No, Sammy. No she didn't. And I barely slept myself to make sure she didn't. She hasn't had any dreams for a couple days... at least that's what she's told me.”

“And... are you sure she has been honest?” Jack asked with a frown and Dean clenched his jaw, looking down at his hands.

“There was a time I would never doubt her honesty but now... I think there is something about these dreams that she doesn't want to talk about. And I'm scared she doesn't know why even herself.” he shook his head, pushing his chair back “I'll be right back.”

He got a nod from his brother who, much like Jack looked down at his books in quiecy until... a grin spread on Jack's lips when he finally found what he was looking for and breathed out “They do match.”

~*~

A soft knock on the door made you jump in your place, blink rapidly as if you were brought back from a hazy dream and look up from the small paper in your hands. Your heart leapt to your throat and you rushed to fold it and put it along with the rest of them inside your journal before hiding it underneath your clothes in a drawer. Before you even had the chance to speak up the door was slightly pushed open.

“Hey, it's me.” Dean's soft smile was the first thing you noticed but you only gave him a nervous one in response.

“H-hey” you breathed out, you tried to give him a smirk to not let him notice how nervous you were “I didn't say you could come in though, did I? I could be naked for all you know.” you placed your hands on your hips, feeling successful when a chuckle left his lips.

“Yeah but you're not. Shame, if you ask me, 'cause I was kinda hopin' I would be lucky today.” he winked at you, striding casually towards you and a soft laugh escaped your lips.

“Right, because the last time you nearly walked in on me wasn't enough of a sneak peek for you, huh Winchester?” you raised an eyebrow.

“But I saw nothing! You threw a freaking book at me that was over a thousand pages big, and I had to dodge it in order toprotect my life!” he exclaimed and you laughed at the fond memory.

“And that is a reminder as to why you should never startle me, D!” you actually felt the weight that had been resting on your chest, lift and you to feel more at ease.

“Damn” he breathed out, biting his lower lip to keep himself from smiling but he just ended up giving you a boyish grin that made him look so much younger “I love it when you call me that.”

“Really?” you whispered, ignoring how your cheeks were burning “You never told me that.” your heart skipped a beat when he shrugged with a nervous chuckle.

“Didn't get the chance to, before.” he started “Especially when you're threatening my life with the stuff you read. But, speaking about chances-” he cleared his throat, getting a little more serious “We didn't get the opportunity to talk about your dreams lately, especially last night.”

“There's not really something to talk about there, Dean.” you shook your head, but avoided eye-contact.

“Are you sure about that? 'Cause, princess, I ain't that convinced with the way you acted five minutes ago, you know.”

“That was just a blink, Dean. Nothing you should-” you turned around, ready to walk away from him but he took hold of your arm to stop you before you could avoid him. And turning your head to face him you felt yourself going weak.

“It just did something.” you confessed in a low voice, eyes casting down “The things Jack said, somehow, for some reason and in some way they- they did something to me that I can't explain. I've been feeling things I couldn't explain a-and it scares me because I just don't know where they're all coming from.”

“Feelings?” he moved to stand in front of you, eyes intense “But no more recent dreams?”

“I... No. No there haven't been any, not that if I'd had any they would make any sense. Things have been getting very confusing lately.” you huffed, sitting down on your bed and he didn't miss a beat to do the same while keeping a close proximity “Sometimes there are headaches when I wake up, strong ones.”

“You didn't have headaches when they first started.” he noted with a deep frown and you nodded your head slowly.

“No, no I didn't. I've had them ever since I could remember myself and- and I've always tried to justify them.” you shrugged softly “My dreams have never happened often, and they were confusing as most dreams are. I shouldn't have a reason to worry, especially in this life. We deal with all tons of crap, it should make sense...”

“But they don't. Not anymore huh?” he clenched his jaw, frowning in worry.

“Dean, last week I... I could remember some things the times I had a headache. Much more than usual.” you breathed out the small confession “Again, not that they made sense but I remember and... feel. It seems like a blur when I think aboutit sometimes, there was a fight. A big one but- but I couldn't understand where. There was green, lots of it, somewhere a forest too that it looked like Earth but the weapons they used... it just doesn't click. It felt like it was something out of science fiction and the enemy... or at least it seemed like it was the enemy, remember- remember that movie we saw two days ago? Aliens? Yeah, well, even worse. I- I can't explain it but I get cold spots whenever I think about it and I just can't-” you choked on a sob, your eyes fluttering shut as Dean's arms instantly found you.

“Hey” his voice was rough yet very gentle as he let you rest your head on his shoulder “Don't stress yourself out, okay? If-if it makes you feel uncomfortable or scared then that's alright, it happens to everyone when they have nightmares, but even if it's not like that then... know everything will be alright, know that I'm here for you anytime it happens again.”

“It just makes me feel so empty... so scared, in a way as if there's something missing.” you whimpered softly, your breathing uneven “I don't know what's going on but I know they are not just dreams, D.”

“Then we'll figure it out, sweetheart. Together.” he kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand as he played with your fingers to calm you down, nearly lacing them with his.

“Together.” you whispered, without letting the truth slip from your lips once more.

Without saying who was fighting against the monsters of your dreams and who you were fighting alongside.

~*~

“Are you sure this is the right place, guys?” you asked softly, exiting the car and looking around nervously.

“That's what mom's text says.” Sam mumbled, looking around with a frown himself.

“And I ask again, are we sure this is our kind of thing?” Dean asked, gaining an eye-roll from his brother “Come on, man, since when do demons hang out in empty train stations?” he threw his arms in he air before getting his gun out.

“I don't know but we're about to figure it out.” Sam muttered.

“Even if there are no people around, this is a public place. Doesn't seem like somewhere you'd find a bunch of demons playing around with a glowing stone and quite honestly I...” you trailed off, getting a concerned look from Dean that made you confess “I've got a bad feeling about this.” you ended up whispering, wrapping your hands tightly around your gun.

“Stay close and stay behind.” Dean motioned, giving you a firm yet comforting look and you nodded weakly, standing next to Jack. You weren't really in good shape these days, anyway.

“It's going to be alright, don't worry. I feel like everything will work out the way it should.” the younger man said with a hopeful smile “Captain America was one time on top of a train that was going miles per hour and on top of that, it was somewhere in the mountains, it was snowing so heavily and that alone could make things much harder. He was with his best friend, Bucky they called him, and they were after-”

“Hey you-” Dean turned around, pointing the flashlight you didn't even realize he was holding straight in your faces “Fanboying time's over. We've got work to do, focus. You can talk about Captain douchebag later, got it?”

“Oh right. Sorry.” Jack nodded his head softly.

“You know...” you started in a small whisper, glancing occasionally at Dean to make sure you didn't have his attention again “When we're over with this, maybe you could get to tell me more about... Captain America... everything you know about Steve Rogers.” the name felt strange coming from your lips, but not because it was the first time. It felt sweet and with a hint of pain, that came out without you even realizing it, without you even being able to control it. And it felt so strange because of the uneasiness you felt at how... familiar it felt, at how comforting it was and how it warmed your heart to say it. And that scared you even more. How could a stranger, a man from another universe and even more one you didn't even know if he existed or not, make you feel this way? It spiked your curiosity, it made you nervous, but above all it made you want to know more. Not about your feelings. But about him.

“Sure, I could-” Jack started but he got cut off by a loud crushing sound followed by grunting, but they got on their feet as the demons appeared.

“Well, if it isn't the Winchesters sticking their nose in our business. Color me fucking impressed.” one of them said with a roll of his eyes “What is it boys? You getting more involved with things from other realities lately, or something? Are you planning for Apocalypse take 3 this time? Sorry, someone already beat you at it.”

“Nah we're just taking pleasure in kicking your asses and ruining your plans is all.” you said with an annoyed smirk, gaining his attention and making a bigger grin form on his lips.

“Ah yes, (Y/n). Of course you'd be here too, always finding your way back to it, don't you? It's truly amazing, such connection cannot be described by words it's simply... beautiful!” he grinned but you could only frown at the scary feeling that rose up your chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean growled, taking a protective step to stand in front of you.

“Oh you'd like to know, wouldn't you? Would you be able to take the whole truth is the important question here, though, Dean. You're so used to fighting monsters like us you don't see... how much worse there is out there, far away yet so close. You'll get your answer soon, not in the good way and not from me of course.”

“I'm not so sure about that.” Dean said with a smirk of his own, glancing at Jack and gave him a nod before the nephilimtook a step forward, his eyes glowing the familiar, and lately very comforting for you, yellow.It all was familiar. It all was almost a routine anymore.

It all seemed simple... Yet it wasn't. You thought this would end like any other case and you'd end up killing the monster with Jack's help, easy and fast. But this was nothing like any other case.

A gasp left your lips when you saw a sharp object, silver and weird-looking, appear right through his chest. And even if you knew it couldn't hurt him you got scared when a small groan left his lips and he stumbled, his knees going weak; maybe affecting him more than he realized. He looked down in confusion, frowning as he got lifted off his feet slightly by the person holding the weapon.

“Jack!” you screamed as the young man got thrown to the side.

“What the... hell?” Dean breathed out with wide eyes as all three of you were frozen in your place. As much as you wanted to rush to Jack's side you were stuck in your place in fear at what stood before you. A monster you had never seen before in all your time of hunting and research. It looked almost out of this world, towering above the three of you. Its features were something you could barely find the words to describe, but one thing was for sure: the way it looked at you, the way it snarled and growled at you made fear set deep inside within you... for more reasons than you could explain. It took a swing at you, making you all jump to dodge it. It walked towards you and despite you crawling back, you couldn't get far away. When it lifted its weapon to stab you, your eyes widened and you braced yourself for the inevitable but it never came because Jack used his powers to throw him away from you, Dean and Sam quickly getting on their feet to fight that thing back as long as they had the advantage.

“Stay close to Jack!” you heard Dean yell as they passed by you; and despite everything feeling like it happened in a blur, you did as told but not for your own safety. Jack's breathing had become heavier and you feared that it might have had a bigger impact on him than you initially expected. So as much as you wanted to be able to help Sam and Dean, you couldn't... and not just because you were trying to help Jack.

“Now this time, I will be sure to not make the same mistakes.” was what sounded like a female voice but what came to stand before you was by no means human. You looked up at her with wide eyes, her as well brining no similarity to the monsters you'd faced and as much of an alien but with some human features two. She was different, with two horns standing out, and red eyes that made you hold your breath. You gripped an angel blade tighter in your hands and braced yourself with each step she took closer to you until... she didn't anymore.

She paused, looking away from you with a frown setting on her features. You looked behind you, Jack doing the same, only seeing the blur of the train passing by and feeling the slight breeze until it left and... a shadow stood in the background, a shadow that wasn't there before. She clenched her jaw, throwing her spear at her enemy who effectively caught it before it could get at them. You frowned for a second until the person decided to step out of the shadows and you felt your heart jump to your throat.

Broad shoulders, chest and big, firm arms. Tall figure, covered in what looked like a very worn out suit. Long hair, not very much so, longer than Dean's but definitely shorter than Sam's, a dirty blonde color and pushed back to leave his beautiful features at display, or at least most of them. Deep frown on his face and baby blue eyes that you were sure could make any woman's heart skip a beat. A beard that covered most of his face, simply looking perfect on him, and full lips pursed as he glared in a deadly way at the female that had just threatened you. You squinted, trying to see more of him because the distance and dim lighting wasn't helping; confusing even yourself when you couldn't find some sort of excuse for this newfound curiosity and attraction especially in such a situation.

Before you could even realize it a fight went down, everything getting worse without you being able to do a thing... mostly because you weren't needed to. It only felt like you saw a flash of blonde when you heard's Dean groan loudly, soon followed by something that you could swear was a someone, flying surprisingly so. It was only when you heard his voice that you realized he was human “How many times do we have to kill these guys?!” before he kicked her away from you, sending her crashing into a shop's window nearby, and following afterwards.

“Just make sure this is the last one!” then you heard his voice and if you weren't feeling weird enough already, the emotions that rose up in your chest made you so much more confused. So despite everything around you looking like a warzone, despite all the fighting and things being broken your eyes were glued on the man that had taken your breath away. You tried to see as much of him as possible, including his skills.

It was only until the woman of the team got kicked hard and thrown across the room, laying only a few feet away from you that you tore your eyes away from the man and looked at her; taking your flannel to press it on Jack's chest and whispering hastily to him “Keep the pressure on, I'll be right back, ok?”

“Hey, hey easy. That angle on your leg doesn't seem normal.” you could swear you said in a soft and as gentle as possible voice but she jumped in her place as if electricity had shot through her. She turned around faster than you could even comprehend and crawled backwards in utter cold shock. Her eyes widened and you could swear you saw them get glossy, but you didn't have the time to question her when-

“Natasha watch out!” you heard a voice yell and you saw the female alien hovering over you for a second, raising her spear and making your heart stop, before an angel blade pierced through her head, making her freeze and inevitably fall down dead just like her friend who was laying dead a few feet away.

“Well, that's just gross.” you breathed out with a small laugh of relief when you watched the blue blood drip from her head. But when you looked at the blonde woman, you were only met with red-rimmed eyes and a pale face as if she'd just seen a ghost, in a way that made you worry “H-Hey are you ok? I'm- I'm not with them, I promise, I just wanna help.” your eyes bore into hers but she just seemed frozen in place.

But she didn't have the chance to speak up because the man who was flying before, landed next to her “Nat, what the hell happened?” he helped her up on her feet and she put most of her weight on him “How did you-” but he too stopped mid-sentence when he followed her line of sight and spotted you and you noticed a gasp left his lips before he whispered in denial a weak “No”

“Is everything alright?” you whispered with a frown, their behavior but above all your headache getting stronger in your head putting you more on edge.

“You are-”

“(Y/n)?” Dean's frantic voice cut him off and the next thing you saw was his eyes directly in front of you, inspecting you for injuries, as his hands cradled your face in them. Sam rushed to Jack's aid but the third man – the one that still remained a mystery to you – walked more slowly towards the rest of you.

“Should we do something?” Sam asked in a hoarse voice and Natasha glanced at you, even with a blurry vision, and shook her head.

“We don't have time for that... He will have to face her. He will see her.”

“Nat, he- he can't see her. He can't- It's gonna break him. It will crush him, worse than-” but he stopped himself, shaking his head as he looked back at you with Dean.

“I'm ok, I'm ok. Don't worry.” you said softly, but the frown on your face did say otherwise. You could barely make out his features because of how blurry your vision was getting “Just my head... it's hurting a little bit, that's all.” you mumbled.

With a short nod he kissed your forehead and whispered “It's alright, it's alright now. You can rest.”

“You guys did great with them, it was- it was really astounding.” Sam breathed out, helping Jack back on his feet as they both came to stand next to you and Dean.

“We may have ganged countless monsters over the years but this was a whole new kind of crazy.” Dean looked at the aliens for a second, trying to swallow the lump in his throat over.

“Ye-yeah, no problem with that.” the man with the wings said in a somewhat hoarse voice,unable to take his eyes from you for a moment just like the woman next to him “I'm Sam, by the way, Sam Wilson and this is Natasha.”

“Natasha Romanoff.” she said, a soft subtle accent there too, her eyes watching you curiously – probably for some reaction – but as much as it intrigued you, you had someone else in mind.

“And... your friend there?” you asked softly, hesitation and curiosity slipping in your voice, as you watched merely a shadow of the other man as he inspected the aliens they had just fought before he decided to approach you all again.

“Oh that's-” Sam started, clearing his throat “That's actually...”

“Captain America.” it was Jack's voice that completed Sam's sentence, so much awe and admiration in both his voice and face as a wide grin slowly formed on his lips. Sam and Dean looked at him in confusion, giving him weird looks, but you couldn't tear your eyes away from said man who slowly stepped into the light, the close proximity this time allowing you to take in more of his features. Features that made your heart start beating faster inside your chest, in a way only Dean could make you feel, but you couldn't describe exactly why. The man's steps slowed down when he locked eyes with you and his frown was slowly replaced by a look of pure shock, eyebrows raising and lips falling apart. You couldn't understand why but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him, watching as his eyes moved back and forth, trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“What are you talking about, Jack?” Dean asked the nephilim with a funny look.

“Look!” he pointed at the man “He even has the star, I mean... it's ripped out but the star should be there!” he said all excited, and even if you didn't look away you heard closely “It's him, Captain America! Steve Rogers.”

The name actual ringed in your ears, like an echo, making the headache even worse. Your head was spinning, your vision was getting blurry but you still found yourself able to focus on him and take a step closer to him and away from Dean. You didn't even know how your legs could still support you, but you sure heard him.

“(Y/n)?” he asked in a gruff voice and you felt shivers run down your spine and spread throughout your entire body, like small shots of electricity, before you spoke in a weak voice.

“I'm sorry, do I know you?”

~~~

Chapter 2

[postedbygaslight]

The Problem With (Forced) Happy Endings, or, Why I Hate The Phantom of the Opera

Yesterday, I was messing around on here and suggested that I hated the way The Phantom of the Opera ended. Then, I got the following ask:

I thought I’d respond briefly, but then things got out of hand. So, @lushkitten1989, as promised, here’s way more than you bargained for.

There are many, many reasons to dislike Andrew Lloyd Webber’s monolithic Broadway musical, The Phantom of the Opera. So, I’ll dispose of some of the lower hanging fruit:

The story is dependent upon Christine being so naive that she doesn’t realize she’s getting music lessons from a guy behind a two-way mirror.

The phantom is a one-trick pony, defined almost entirely by his obsession with Christine. It’s never actually clear what he seeks to achieve by gaining de facto control of the day-to-day operations of the theater (other than merely being able to exercise that control— which may be the point).

Raoul is as interesting as a pet rock. He is unbuttered toast. He is Mom Jeans.

The music is intermittently great, but just as often annoying as hell (to me, for example, the “Angel of Music” motif is grating and uninspired).

Those are fundamental, but relatively minor complaints. Phantom has a lot of strengths. The chemistry between the Phantom and Christine is very pronounced, and, at times, shockingly blatant in its sexual themes. Some of the songs are timeless classics (“Phantom of the Opera,” “Music of the Night,” “All I Ask of You”), and some of the sequences, like the chandelier crashing down on the stage, and the ensemble pieces, like “Masquerade,” are very accomplished.

But where Phantom really shines is building a very genuine feeling tension between what propriety and social mores tell Christine Daae what she should desire, and what she actually desires. Phantom dabbles with Bride of the Monstrous themes, but never goes all in on them, and the result is a muddled, confused mess of a story— one that could have been very, very good, but wasn’t courageous or forward-thinking enough to capitalize on its opportunities.

See, the problem starts with Raoul.

Yes, wonderful, handsome, unthreatening, rich, devoted, patient, loving, convenient Raoul. The honorable Vicomte de Chagny, no less. He is our erstwhile Socially Acceptable Love Interest™️. From the moment he’s introduced, it’s clear Raoul is meant to be Christine’s white knight, swooping in to rescue her from obscurity. The plot contrives to have him coincidentally happen upon Christine, his childhood sweetheart, now a chorus girl at the opera house he favors with his parents’ fortune.

Now, I know what the Phantom fans might say: Raoul is here to allow for a juxtaposition of dynamics, placing him as an anchor point to which Christine can return, reminding her that she is more than the Phantom’s pet (or pupil, or lover, or what have you). But I’d counter that he’s really here to act as a stand-in for society’s expectations for how a well-behaved woman should conduct herself. Raoul is young, conventionally attractive, affluent, and, most importantly, chaste.

Christine’s connections with Raoul are explicitly drawn as being rooted in childish notions of affection. To wit, Raoul First greets Christine with a modified nursery rhyme she was read during their brief time together as children. He visits her in the soft-focus glow of her dressing room, showers her with praise, and proceeds to not listen to her when she insists she can’t go celebrate with him. More than that, he dismisses her objections with little more than a hand wave. The point is, he sees her as a child, and treats her as a child.

Look at what happens the moment he leaves her alone. She looks into the mirror, and runs toward the dark reflection behind her own image (heavy symbolism of Jungian animus here). From their very first physical encounter, the Phantom engages Christine as a sexual creature, and the difference in her reaction is, well:

Once alone with the Phantom, Christine is no longer the child so idealized by Raoul. She’s a young woman seeking instruction of a different kind from a strange reflection of herself whose instructions have suddenly changed from anodyne singing lessons to exhortations to “feel the music of the night.”

The next time Christine is with Raoul is when they share their duet, the excellent, “All I Ask of You.” I say excellent because, like other tentpole numbers featured in Webber musicals, the song itself is brilliant, but, in the context of the play, it’s less inspiring. This is rather like “Memory” existing in a pop culture space entirely divorced from its origin in Cats, and I’m certain there are a fair number of people who simply identify the song as a soaring Barbra Streisand number, rather than the mournful plea of a neglected alley cat.

“All I Ask of You” is preceded by Christine trying to tell Raoul about her fear of the Phantom, and her growing unease at the magnetic pull he seems wield against her. Raoul’s immediate and repeated reaction? Something to the effect of: “There is no Phantom of the Opera. You’re imagining things. Don’t be silly.” The song then drives this home:

No more talk of darkness—Forget these wild-eyed fears—I’m here, nothing can harm you—My words will warm and calm you.

The call and response Christine and Raoul have here is staged as a sweet love song. And it is. But it’s also a proposal from a young man to a young woman, where the man suggests she abandon her desires to exist as a sexual being, and come be with him, where he’ll act as her protector against such base instincts.

And this tactic works. Christine is not so frightened of the Phantom himself— she pays lip service to being horrified at his murderous tendencies, but seems aware he would never harm her personally— as she is frightened of her seeming inability to resist her attraction to him.

Raoul positions himself as a shield Christine can hide behind so she never has to grow up. He prefers her as the girl who enchanted him when they were both children, and he’ll go to great lengths to keep her innocent and doe-eyed. Is it any wonder that Christine doesn’t want their engagement to be public? (Yes, I get that Christine doesn’t want to risk the Phantom’s wrath should he discover their impending marriage, but the whole thing looks more like Christine being very unsure as to what she really wants).

Raoul, who seems to be the only person in the play who continues to explicitly deny the existence of the Phantom into the second act, is, oddly, the first to run for a weapon when the Phantom shows himself. He’s the one who pushes Christine to acknowledge (falsely, I think) that her attraction to the Phantom is nothing more than a side-effect of Daddy issues. He insistently pushes forward with a plan to permanently rid both the Opera Populaire and Christine of the Phantom despite Christine’s warnings that Raoul doesn’t really understand what he’s fighting against. More than that, Raoul insists that Christine offer herself up as bait, and to do so publicly, an overt expression of control, of making her choose her loyalties in front of everyone.

Let’s pause a moment here before we get to the inflection point of the play. What I’m referencing is, of course, the aptly titled “Point of No Return,” wherein the true nature of Christine’s relationship with the Phantom is made public. I want to talk about the Phantom.

Throughout the entire play, the Phantom is presented as a sympathetic figure coded to represent misfit and outcast elements of society. He refers to himself as a “loathesome gargoyle” and confesses to Christine that he lashes out at the world and makes others fear him because he feels it’s his only choice for survival. But he also confesses to her that he secretly dreams of love and acceptance, and being able to live as he is, free from the condemnation of the wider world.

Yes, the Phantom expresses his displeasure with being defied in very unhealthy ways, but here we are again at the Death and the Maiden trope, wherein our heroine is the only person who is able to see beyond the darkness that both conceals and protects the man behind the mask. Here, Christine should be acting as the Phantom’s succor, a balm to his constant pain, and, in playing that part, she is meant to end his curse, or blunt its effects sufficiently enough for him to find peace. And, in return, the Phantom ought to provide Christine with growth beyond her childhood, and, in this version of events, usher in her sexual awakening and facilitate her passage into womanhood.

And it’s all set up to do that, for those themes to be realized, by the time the finale is cued up. Then, everything just goes to shit.

The Problem

If you’re unfamiliar with the way The Phantom of the Opera ends, you may want to stop reading.

After Christine stops Raoul from killing the Phantom in the graveyard, Raoul and the other peripheral characters contrive a plan to lure the Phantom into the open and kill or arrest him once and for all. The plan is simple enough. The Phantom has written an opera (aptly titled Don Juan Triumphant), and has ordered it be performed with Christine as the lead. Everyone assumes the Phantom will strike during the performance, most likely to claim Christine as his bride (or something like that).

Now, I posted a little joke earlier about what happens before the plan goes into effect. Raoul goes to Christine to comfort her and prepare her for her role in the trap, but Christine is very nervous about it. She tries to convey to Raoul why she’s apprehensive about the whole plan, but, again, Raoul doesn’t get it, and insists that Christine is getting worked up for nothing.

Of course, what ends up happening is “The Point of No Return,” the high point of the whole play, where the Phantom sheds all pretense and makes an overtly sexual appeal to Christine. And Christine, who’s supposed to be playing the role of Don Juan’s paramour, reciprocates the Phantom’s ardor, resulting in a very, very sexy sequence between the two of them. All while Raoul watches from the Phantom’s favored balcony (Box Five), and something like this happens:

The Phantom speaks directly to Christine, saying:

I have brought you— so our passions may fuse and merge— in your mind, you’ve already succumbed to me— dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— you’ve decided—

To which Christine responds:

I have come here— hardly knowing the reason why— in my mind I’ve already imagined— our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent— now I am here with you— no second thoughts— I’ve decided—

This whole time, while the call and response between Christine and the Phantom reaches its fever pitch, Raoul watches, and understands the depth of his miscalculation. More than that, he’s horrified and repulsed by this display of lust from his innocent Christine. The mere suggestion that she might be complicit in the Phantom’s passions is something that, it can be observed above, threatens to break his world apart.

Thematically, this mirrors Raoul and Christine’s mutual declaration of chaste love in “All I Ask of You.” Which is important, because once the Phantom and Christine have crossed the metaphorical and literal bridge that separates them, and are embraced for all the world to see, the Phantom expands his entreaty, shifting from the blood-racing heat of “Point of No Return” to a soft, pleading reprise of “All I Ask of You.” He wants Christine to know he doesn’t just want her body, that he doesn’t just view her as a possession. That he loves her, just as much or more than Raoul.

And here is where Phantom could have become something great. Christine breaks free of the intoxicant of lust for the Phantom and turns to face him. He is emboldened, and reaches a more confident crescendo, saying

Anywhere you go, let me go, too— Christine, that’s all I ask of—

But the Phantom never finishes his sentence. Christine makes her choice, for sure. She does this. In front of the whole world. When the Phantom is most sincere and vulnerable.

Now, I might have been prepared to forgive Christine this mistake if not for the scene earlier, when she and the Phantom were alone, and she tried to remove his mask. He lashed out at her then, and proceeded to explain his sensitivity to being exposed. He opened up to her and revealed his vulnerability. And, above, when the Phantom has finally allowed himself to hope that Christine’s affections are sincere and reciprocated, she betrays him.

It horrifies me.

For the rest of the play, all the sympathy the audience has been conditioned to direct toward the Phantom is inverted. Christine shows affection to him only to trap him. She even kisses him, leading him on again, for no reason but to quell his rage toward Raoul. Even after his beastly rage has subsided, Christine can only chide him for being monstrous in body and spirit.

This haunted face holds no horror for me now— it’s in your soul that the true distortion lies—

The arc presented for the audience— to sympathize with the Phantom, and to experience with Christine the fear and wonder that can attend the awakening of sexual consciousness, is utterly squandered.

But why?

Happily Ever After

The answer is as simple as it is disheartening: because Christine is supposed to end up with Raoul. Raoul is her destined love interest because the plot demands it, and no other reason. The two of them don’t grow as a couple during the course of the play. Their dynamic as they leave the Phantom’s lair is unchanged from the dynamic they presented when Raoul came to see her in her dressing room at the beginning of the play. Even after being forced to acknowledge Christine as a complicated and sexual being, Raoul elects to ignore that, and champions only freeing her from the Phantom’s corrupting influence.

To come to this point, Christine’s character actually regresses, choosing to retreat behind Raoul’s promise of perpetual innocence and naïveté. The narrative turns from one of growth and sexual agency to one that urges the rejection of what is unpleasant to acknowledge. Christine essentially chooses to marry the nice guy with the trust fund, stays at home to raise the kids and play the doting wife, and occasionally allows herself moments of indulgence to fantasize about the tall, dark, mysterious man she always wanted to fuck back in college.

To make matters even worse, the Phantom is abandoned to misery and solitude. His suffering is rewarded with more suffering. Christine leaves him without hope or promise, and the Phantom remains shrouded in the dark, pining for Christine for the rest of his life. Through trusting and hoping for acceptance and love, the Phantom is shown only the futility of seeking either. The way this plays out is deeply disconcerting, going so far as to set up a prologue and epilogue set fifty years later, after Christine’s death, with a grieving, crippled Raoul learning that the Phantom is still alive. This represents a casual erasure of Christine’s presence from the narrative, and, worse, diminishes her role to that of the object of the struggle between two men over a young woman’s emotional and sexual destiny.

This is an ugly, sad, wretched story. It’s not a story of yearning or forbidden love. It’s a story about rejection and denial of desire. It’s a story about choosing what society deems acceptable over the needs of the self. Moreover, it’s a story about being afraid and remaining afraid.

There is nothing affirming or beautiful about this story. And I fucking hate it.

[hightress]

Oh, Sweet Irony - Kiribaku Hanahaki Disease AU

For @tooru-nee ! Sorry about the fact that it’s a bit late, it ended up way longer than I predicted. I loved writing this so I hope you’ll like it as well! Happy Valentine’s Day! (thank you again, @bakushima-gift-exchange for organizing this event) 

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AO3 Link

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing: Kiribaku, Bakushima

Characters: Kirishima, Bakugou, A nameless villain

Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Pining, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Aged-Up Character(s), Bakushima Gift Exchange 2018, Hanahaki Disease, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Pining Kirishima Eijirou, Kirishima Eijirou is a Dork                                   

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 5,854

Summary: For Kirishima, everything started with a petal. That’s not how it ended,  though. (Hanahaki Disease AU)

Kirishima used to call himself a hopeless romantic. Actually, no, that isn’t correct, he still did, even if the feeling in his chest had changed from pride to exhaustion.

He would’ve never been associated by his friends with the idea of exhaustion, but he was - tired and frustrated to bottle up so many feelings inside of him and not be able to do anything to get rid of them or set them free.

Like any other boy, he had expected that the first person he was going to care so much for was going to be a girl - a small, delicate flower that he was going to save, to protect, to cherish and cover in roses. Someone that was going to need him and love him in return.

Years passed though, and Kirishima learned new things about himself. He found a way to see past his self-worth issues, found strength in places there used to be none, found ambition, found UA and, in the end, found himself and accepted all his scars and past mistakes.

He also realized with little surprise that delicacy had nothing to do with what his body seemed to crave for. Solid muscle, rough hands, full of scars - that’s what his instincts longed to hold. The male form had fascinated Kirishima for years, but only recently he understood the depth of his interest.

And that his heart must’ve hated him.

He was a boy back then, a boy that fell for another. It had been gradual - from curiosity to outspoken admiration and then feelings too intense to even comprehend. But that hadn’t been the problem. It was the fact that no matter how much he wanted to protect the one he wanted, to save him, to appreciate every moment and every touch - he couldn’t. Not without having an explosion blast in his face and a sea of curses following the action.

Bakugou was… Intense. Raw. Different. Too smart, too powerful, too closed off to be compared to anyone else. He couldn’t be understood, not completely.

But Kirishima still tried.

It hadn’t been easy to approach Bakugou. He refused to connect. Refused to see people care about him, refused to represent anything else but a set-up level for the others to try to reach but never to touch.

Sometimes, Kirishima wondered if Bakugou wished to be regarded as a human being at all.

Despite everything, Kirishima approached him. And that seemed to matter to Bakugou - not too visibly, it wasn’t a big deal or anything, but Bakugou seemed to push him away less.

Whenever Kirishima dropped next to him, the other threw a few words of protest and two well-placed glares, but that was all. There were no more threatening explosions. No real danger.

And Kirishima was content for a while, or, at least, how content one can be while their hearts pounded loudly, desperately, for more. It had taken two years for the warm feeling in his chest to turn into a passive ache. Two years of countless jokes and battles, of laughter and masks of anger.

Two beautiful years of memories shattered in a matter of seconds with five simple words.

“I don’t care about romance.”

Bakugou said them - of course he did - with the same emotionless tone he used to talk about something that annoyed him. The fact that it seemed completely out of the blue didn’t matter. And that wouldn’t have hurt the way it did if Kirishima hadn’t been thinking at that exact same moment about closing the distance the two of them. He’s dreamed of pushing himself towards Bakugou countless times, but never did it hurt so much.

“Of course you don’t,” he smiled at Bakugou back then. And it must’ve been the fakest smile he had ever formed because, during those horrible seconds, he could feel the corners of his mouth turning downwards. Having Bakugou not even look at him during this whole exchange made his eyes sting even more.

That’s when Kirishima decided that if he couldn’t have Bakugou as a partner in the way he wanted, he was going to do everything in his power to become the best partner Bakugou deserved in the only way he could’ve ever been needed - as a hero of equal power standing next to him in battle. As a punch, as a spear, as a shield. A useful weapon. After all, all Bakugou seemed to crave was power and a crowd to watch and marvel at his technique. And Kirishima had no problem doing them both, even if his heart was asking for more.

The saddest part about hearing those five words hadn’t been the acceptance they brought, though. It had been what followed after.

A petal. That’s how everything started. A single red petal, vibrant and delicate, which promised an even worse kind of hell than the one Kirishima had been living until then.

The irony would’ve made Kirishima laugh if he had been someone else. But he wasn’t, so he just swallowed once and sat up from his chair, feeling the need to get a sudden breath of fresh air.

He went out and ran.

He was aware what the petal represented. It was the starting point of a disease so rare that it was considered a myth, but still talked about enough to have it kept fresh in everyone’s memory.

Hahanaki disease. Lethal and connected to the feelings of the one infected. A dreadful infection that lead to suffocation, all thanks to one-sided feelings and a bouquet of flowers that was going to turn a positive emotion into a nightmare. All thanks to a sadistic God that must’ve chosen Kirishima’s emotions as its object of amusement.

As Kirishima passed the park close to his home, he already realized something crucial: he wasn’t going to tell anyone. Not Kaminari, not Sero, not Mina, nobody. Bakugou, of course, was out of the question. If he was feeling anxious about receiving pitiful looks from the others, he didn’t even want to think about Bakugou’s possible reaction. Was he going to be angry? Was he going to force him to get the surgery - the only medical cure known? Was he going to pretend to go out with him out of remorse? After all, a thing that he had managed to learn about Bakugou during their time together had been that the guy was a lot more thoughtful and generous than he was given credit. That has been one of the reasons Kirishima ended up in this complicated situation in the first place.

He shook his head. Thinking about scenarios wasn’t going to happen. Besides, even if they were going to get into a one-sided relationship, that wasn’t going to help him anyway. And Kirishima wasn’t under any circumstances going to get the surgery. Those feelings weren’t something to be ashamed of, years of manliness taught him that much.

He didn’t know how fast the disease it was going to evolve. How much time he had left. Nobody knew how long it took until a petal turned into whole flowers - it was rare enough to not have studies regarding a specific average of development.

He was going to keep the knowledge locked down, to have it acknowledged as nothing but a part of himself that he couldn’t get rid of. He was going to use it as a boost to remind him that every day was special, that every day was worth living and fighting for. He was going to save lives, as many as possible, to make up for the ones he wasn’t going to be able to save in the future. And he was going to smile through all this, to make the others happy, to make himself happy. He wasn’t going to let a disease taint his memory. If he was going to die so young, he wanted to be remembered as a positive influence, as a ball of energy and goodness. As much as he might’ve wanted to be regarded as selfless as well, he knew that wasn’t really possible. Few people were indeed selfless and the desire to be seen that way definitely eliminated the possibility just by principle.

It was going to be fine. He knew it. He was strong enough to get through this - he might’ve not been before he got into the hero course, but he was now. He was going to handle it.

When he got back - sweaty and smelling like dirt, he was feeling a lot better than when he went out that door. He was determined not to let such a thing change anything in a negative way.

That’s how he kept going for his remaining time at UA. Pushing forward, smiling, always surrounded by the people he cared about, throwing any unnecessary petals as soon as he coughed them out. By the time he finished and received his license, he had no regrets.

It had been better than he expected. With no more than four, sometimes five petals disturbing him three or four times a day, he was still fine.

He was a hero - both on paper and in the heart - and he had all the intentions to live up to that title. And he was going to do it as he both wanted and was needed for - by Bakugou’s side, as equal partners in combat.

Any sane person might’ve chosen to distance themselves from the one that got them into that sort of situation, but not Kirishima. After all, it was all happening because Bakugou was such an incredible person that Kirishima not only cared for him, but did it immensely, aggressively, beautifully, and there was absolutely no chance he was going to give that up for the sake of a disease that was out of their control.

And Bakugou only grew up to be more incredible with each day passed. He had changed in every good way there was, turning from an aggressive, intelligent, ambitious, cruel and selfish boy into a man that had reasons - people - to fight and win for. Not titles, not fame. A man that still hid his emotions under scowls and curses, but turned a punch into a gentle shove and used that sharp mind of him to plan, to coordinate, to save. And sometimes, instead of the rage he shewed before, there was an almost fond look in his eyes, a softer shade of red, but just as vibrant as ever.

(Just like the petals Kirishima learned to loathe less and less each day.)

He had no idea how he managed not to get himself caught by the others. And how the disease never got worse when Bakugou was around. But he wasn’t going to complain. Any second was a gift and he appreciated every single one of them.

He went out with everyone as often as they could. Three times a week and even in-between the missions. Teaming up was a common thing and neither he nor Bakugou minded it when it happened.

But, usually, it was just the two of them.

Or, to be exact, the two of them and countless little petals that promised an uncertain final line.

A part of him still couldn’t believe it. Not the final line thing, he had grown to have it always in the back of his mind. The partnership part. Especially because Bakugou had been the one to propose it, even if Kirishima had tried to bring it up for way longer than his pride supported.

“Oi, Kirishima!” had shouted Bakugou from the other side of the courtyard, just a few weeks into their final year. “When this useless mess is over, let’s fight the fuckers together.”

And Kirishima, because he wasn’t expecting that in any way and had no idea how to react, managed to only throw back a confused look.

“A partnership, Shitty Hair,” Bakugou explained (as in shouted), grabbing his arm and dragging him inside the building. “What do you say? Can I count on you not to stay in my way and kick some ass?”

There was enthusiasm in Bakugou’s eyes. Real, visible enthusiasm to have Kirishima as to one to guard his back in the years to come and to have him as an extension of himself.

The sight itself might’ve been one of the most beautiful things that Kirishima had ever seen. The desire to jump on Bakugou out of stupid happiness and kiss him senseless was more powerful than before.

Thanks to some unknown force, he managed to control himself and shout a warm and clear “Hell Yeah!”, marking the beginning of something beautiful.

That night also marked the first time Kirishima saw nine petals leaving his mouth.

The next day it had reverted back to a smaller number, but the sight of that organic red the day before still scared him a bit.

It hadn’t been that urgent back then, not yet. The urgency came three years into their partnership when the flowers started to form properly.

Their bodies were already full of scars. Kirishima had a huge mark across his right cheek, going from the corner of his mouth to a few millimeters below his eye thanks to an incident with a guy having katanas instead of hands (how did that guy wash himself, Kirishima had no idea), as well as lots of cuts across his chest and arms, done either because of some excessive use of his own quirk or due to normal fights.

Bakugou was the same, but somehow, every single mark on his arms, knuckles, neck and face made him even more beautiful. He never gave up on his tendancy to act recklessly in the middle of a battle, to attack immediately, passion written in every contraction of his muscles as explosions rang around him like a symphony of war. Kirishima was glad he didn’t. This knowledge turned any injury into a work of art on that pale skin - and the little line that cut the corner of the left side of his mouth into a painted foil.

They both smiled during battles. It was their thing, even if they did so for very different reasons. Bakugou loved the adrenaline, Kirishima simply loved to still have the force to save others.

The disease was getting so much worse already. Coughing fits happened hourly and Kirishima knew that he his time was reaching its end. Bakugou was going to find soon enough and he still had no idea how to act once the truth came out.

Bakugou might’ve been stronger than most heroes, but he wasn’t indestructible. It had been the last mission of the day when a bullet (since when did quirkless people become such a threat?) bit into Bakugou’s leg, forcing him to kneel on the ground in pain. Kirishima caught the villain while Bakugou cursed and fired explosion after explosion, keeping his movements to a minimum.

They knew the drill already. No minor wounds were worth letting a criminal escape. And yes, a bullet wasn’t that much of a big deal, at least in Bakugou’s books. It was still a nasty situation but in no way bad enough to risk any other casualties.

(Bakugou didn’t mention anything about what they were supposed to do if the situation was reverted and Kirishima was the one who hot shot in a non-vital area. But Kirishima wasn’t expecting it to be any different than the usual.)

Even if seen as no more than a scratch, the wound was still bad enough to give Bakugou no other choice than to go home to disinfect the wound. Kirishima wanted to go with him, to help in any way he could, but he was aware that Bakugou wished for only one thing from him in that moment, and that was to continue and finish the whole thing.

Something that few people seemed to be aware of was what happened after a villain was arrested. There was a lot of boring stuff, from annoying paperwork (which reminded Kirishima of the endless homework given by Aizawa-sensei during their UA days, which always ended up being pushed away and forgotten in a corner of his backpack, unless Bakugou found a way to motivate him), to talks with journalists and sometimes even interrogations.

It had been just his luck to have that day as one when he was ordered to deal with the third scenario. The police demanded it since he had been the one to finish the job. They expected him to make the other fear him enough to spill something of use. Kirishima might’ve had a huge respect for the police force, but he seriously questioned their aptitude to make decisions. He wasn’t fit to act as an interrogator. He wasn’t intimidating enough - that was Bakugou’s thing. Kirishima’s aptitudes laid in the way he managed to make himself liked by anyone easily and that worked with journalists and all that stuff that Bakugou wasn’t comfortable with. It had nothing to do with being feared.

Despite all this, he found himself standing in a monochrome room, seated on a cold, metal chair, with just a table separating him from the quirkless guy from earlier.

He wasn’t even thinking about the interrogation. All he could focus one was the image of Bakugou alone in his own room, struggling by himself to get the bullet out and treat it accordingly.

“Are we, starting this or not?” asked the guy, definitely pissed to be in that position. Kirishima couldn’t blame him, but he still wished for what felt like the billionth time that the people he was supposed to question were going to be nicer.

“Yeah, sure,” replied Kirishima unprofessionally (he wasn’t even going to try to do it the proper way, he always screwed that up, despite all his good intentions), as he looked through the file he’s been given. “Do you have anything you’d like to confess?”

The guy scoffed at his attempt to start.

“Fantastic, I got an idiot. My day couldn’t have been better,” he said sarcastically. “I’ve got a foot fetish, does that work for you, sweetheart?”

Kirishima smiled forcefully. He already hated it. There was nothing he liked less than to be mocked and called an idiot, both in the span of 30 seconds.

“That’s not the kind of information we need, man,” he tried to keep it casual. “We’re interested in reasons, thoughts -…”

That’s when it happened. That’s when he started to cough urgently and it all went downhill.

It lasted less than two minutes, minutes in which he’s been observed by the villain as petals and flowers escaped between his fingers. It had been humiliating. Breathing normally was already a difficult thing to do and it was clear to anyone who watched.

Worst part? There were policemen on the other side of the glass, usually taking notes of the interrogations. They definitely saw the flowers as well.

Kirishima pushed the thought away. He was going to deal with that later. He still had to finish this.

He waited for the cough to calm down and changed his position on the chair awkwardly.

“Ahem, let’s… Let’s ignore that,” he said, voice raspy. “So, as I was saying…”

“Hanahaki, huh? Sweet,” interrupted the guy. “Is it the angry blondie? That would be hilarious.”

He was smirking, probably feeling so smug about himself in that moment.

Kirishima wasn’t an overly aggressive guy by any means, but he definitely longed to punch himself because - of course - a stranger, and a villain nevertheless, had to guess after knowing them for no more than a day.

His hand tightened its hold on the chair instead, knuckles turning white.

“This isn’t about me. So, tell me…” he tried to bring the attention back to the main subject.

But ended up being interrupted. Again.

“Not even denial there? Auch, that must hurt. How much do you have, dude? Weeks? Did you even tell the guy?”

No. And he wasn’t going to.

It hurt the be mocked this way. He couldn’t do this anymore.

With the most real smile he could manage - that was still so, so fake (when did so many of his smiles turn to be like that?) - he sat up and said: “We’re done.”

“C'mon, man, entertain me. I thought we were having fun.”

Kirishima didn’t answer.

“Fine, then. Doesn’t matter, we’ll see each other on the other side soon enough,” said the man.

That sort of statement wasn’t something Kirishima could just ignore.

“What?”

“I’m quirkless. I stole some guns and started firing them at people out of rage. Of course, they won’t lock me up like the rest. I’m an abomination. I’ll receive the death penalty as soon as they write down everything they need. And you? You’re already in the final stages of that thing. I’ll call it a miracle if you get to the end of the next week.”

Kirishima wanted to get out of that room. But he still had one question to ask.

“Was it worth it? Killing so many people?”

The guy had the audacity to laugh.

“I regret nothing,” he answered, leaning forward. “The real question is… Do you regret it?”

Kirishima bit his lip, saying nothing in return. He didn’t like the answer his mind seed to form this time. Because it didn’t look like his usual, defined ‘no’, that kept him going. It looked like a quivering 'yes’. And he had no idea what to deal with that reaction, with doubt.

He left the room. He left the police station, ignoring the concerned looks thrown his way. He started running.

Where was he running? Did he even have a destination? He didn’t know at first but understood everything as soon as his hand rose automatically to knock on a certain door.

It was Bakugou’s.

He stopped there, hand mid-air, and spared a moment to really think about what he wanted to do. And what exactly he was regretting.

It wasn’t having feelings for Bakugou, of that he was certain. This whole disease might’ve sucked, but he didn’t blame his heart for it. He was sad though. Afraid that he was running out of time, that there was only a limited number of mission left, that his seconds with Bakugou were already turning into zero’s.

Maybe what he regretted was how unprepared he was to let go.

He didn’t want to die. But he could still feel the soreness of his throat. There was no escaping the inevitable. And no forgetting it.

From the other side of the door, he could hear a loud noise, as if something had been dropped, followed by a river of curses. Kirishima smiled, despite everything. Yeah, he surely didn’t regret falling for Bakugou.

He lowered his hand, taking a step back. Nothing had to change just because of a mini-panic attack. Things were the same as at morning. The only difference was that the police probably already knew. And if they were aware of it…

The door got smashed into the wall before he managed to finish that thought.

“What the fuck, Kirishima!” shouted Bakugou from inside the house, hands already extended by his sides and full of explosions. “I just got a call from the police. What’s with this Hanahaki shit?” When he noticed Kirishima’s uncomfortable face, he added: “And why are you fucking here?”

His lips were pressed into a thin line, eyes full of frustration and rage, with a subtle trace of softness in there as well.

Kirishima rarely saw Bakugou look like that, caring so aggressively. It made him feel warm and cornered him between a surge of happiness and the need to tear up (in a manly way).

So many emotions at once were unbearable. And it showed, deep in his throat, where the soreness was getting worse. He didn’t manage to contain it in time, so another coughing fit reached him, as well as two lonely petals.

Kirishima closed his eyes and sighed. That was so not how he had imaged his day to go that morning.

He blinked twice. The morning. Bakugou’s leg.

“Hey, how’s your wound? Are you meant to be standing?” he exclaimed, looking down for any possible damage, not that anything could be seen under Bakugou’s exaggeratingly loose pants.

Bakugou answered by pushing his right hand towards Kirishima, grabbing his shirt and dragging him into the house.

Any other day, Kirishima would’ve shouted something along the lines of “What about your door?”, but with his eyes still closed and all that inner turmoil covered in shame, there was no way he was going to mention it.

“Like hell we are talking about my scratch,” raged Bakugou as he pushed Kirishima towards his couch. “Sit and start talking before I explode your ass towards the closest hospital. What is all of this about?”

Kirishima didn’t even look at him. He couldn’t. Not when Bakugou had those intense eyes. All he could stare at were the petals on the floor and think about the irony that represented his life.

This was not the way he had portrayed himself to bring Bakugou flowers. They weren’t even full flowers, to be honest, just parts, and that somehow made the whole thing even worse.

“Talk to me!” shouted Bakugou once again, successfully getting Kirishima out of that unhealthy territory.

“Can… Can we leave this for tomorrow? It’s been a long day, man,” tried Kirishima as a last resort, smiling at Bakugou. He really, really, really hoped it didn’t seem fake this time.

“Definitely not. They told me about entire flowers, not goddamn petty petals. So no, we’re not doing this tomorrow. We’re doing it now.”

Silence.

“Fine then. I’ll ask the question and you’d better answer them. When did it start?”

Kirishima knew there was no getting out of the situation anymore. He answered with a single word, spoken weakly, as his eyes were locked on the floor.

“Four.”

“Four weeks?! For real? What the hell!” Kirishima didn’t feel like correcting him, so he let him keep going, thinking that maybe the idea of mere weeks instead of years made him less pathetic. “I’ve heard this thing worked annoyingly fast, but that fucking absurd.”

It’s not fast. Or, at least, it wasn’t for me, thought Kirishima bitterly.

Not that he really had a reason to get bitter. He had a lot more time than other people. He should’ve been grateful.

Bakugou stopped shouting for a second, realizing something crucial.

“Wait, does this mean you’ve been head over heels for some dude for a good four weeks? Why am I hearing this just now? You’re like a goddamn open book. Weren’t you supposed to shout your declaration of love from a rooftop or whatever people with feelings do?”

A wry smile crossed over Kirishima’s features. Bakugou’s perception of a person in love was an interesting one indeed. A little detail still irked him a bit, though.

“How could you tell it was a guy?” he asked curiously.

“Please, you love 'manly’ shit,” backfired Bakugou without missing a bit.

Kirishima couldn’t deny that he had a point.

Nobody said anything for a minute.

“So…” Bakugou finally broke the silence, seeming a bit tense. “Who is it?” When Kirishima didn’t answer, he pressed even more, this time more aggressively. “Is it Pikachu? Because if it is and he fucking rejected you, I don’t care how much you love him or want to bone the shit out of him, I’ll fucking murder him and send him into oblivion.”

Kirishima bit his lip. The idea of loving Kaminari the way he loved Bakugou was so absurd it was almost amusing.

“It’s not,” he replied honestly. “Please don’t ask me who it is. It doesn’t matter.”

Bakugou wasn’t enthusiastic about his request. It was visible.

“Do I know him?” he still asked.

“Yeah,” he answered and kept it as vague as possible.

“Did he fucking reject you?”

“No.”

Even though it had felt like he did.

“Then why are you not fucking like goddamn rabbits right now and throwing chocolate in each other’s faces?”

Bakugou sounded so confused. And angry, but that was understandable. Yet, the confusion part affected Kirishima a bit. It was as if Bakugou couldn’t even grasp the concept that Kirishima might’ve not even asked. As if that was impossible.

“Bakugou… I didn’t confess. That’s the thing. Just drop it.”

It was no surprise that his throat decided to act up in that exact moment. This time, a fully developed flower came out.

Bakugou watched him powerless. Kirishima wished he could unsee that image.

“Then do it already. What are you waiting for? A ticket to your goddamn funeral? Hell no! Just do it and get it over with so you could get out of this mess and live happily ever after with you shithead prince.”

Bakugou’s eyes lost their shine for a second in the middle of that aggrieved rambling. Kirishima missed it.

“I won’t.” He didn’t need to look at Bakugou to notice the huge 'Why?’ that he was emitting. “It doesn’t matter what you say. It’ll… It’ll make him uncomfortable.”

“And this shit will get you dead. So, I’m sorry if I cross a line or whatever, but I refuse to see you throw out your life for a good for nothing dude that might not ever fucking deserve you.”

Hearing Bakugou talk that way was what made Kirishima snap.

“He’s not like that,” he said. “It’s you, ok?” He paused before adding “Just drop it, please. I’m not expecting anything.”

He was exhausted. All he wanted was a bed. Probably under a rock or something. Dealing with Bakugou could be complicated on a normal day and while Kirishima didn’t usually mind it, hell, he lived it, it was an entirely different story on a day as full as that one.

It took Bakugou a grand total of thirty seconds for the words to sink in properly.

“What?!” he shouted, appearing as if he’s been transferred to a different planet and slapped repeatedly.

Kirishima already felt bad for putting him in that position.

“Yeah, you heard it. Sorry if it disgusts you or anything.”

When he got nothing in return, he sighed and got up. It was clear that Bakugou needed some time to think. It was impossible for things to stay the same and they were both aware of that. If Bakugou needed seconds, minutes, hours, hell, even weeks, Kirishima was going to give them to him. He owed him that much.

He dragged his feet towards the exit, trying not to glance in Bakugou’s direction. He stopped when he heard the other’s voice.

“We’re idiots.”

It’s been said with conviction. No shadow of disappointment or dismissal or repulsion.

“Yeah, sure, but why?” he found himself asking, not understanding what was happening.

Bakugou stepped closer to him.

“Because we could’ve done this four weeks ago,” he said and before Kirishima could question him about the meaning of his words, crushed their mouths together.

It had been a clash of teeth - forceful, clumsy, imperfect. A gesture of buried desperation, both hopeful and hopeless, a gesture that united two people that shared many things, but only ever dreamt of sharing something like this.

Bakugou’s teeth pierced Kirishima’s bottom lip until he could taste the copperish trace of blood in his own mouth. Kirishima had attacked his mouth a second later, as soon as his brain fought up with the reality, and held nothing back. Just as aggressive, just as wanton.

When they broke apart, both needed a moment to calm their breathing. Kirishima’s throat still hurt, but less than before.

Bakugou rested his own forehead against Kirishima’s, closing his eyes in the process. There was a subtle redness on his face.

“Idiots, I’m telling you,” he whispered in what might’ve been the softest tone Kirishima has ever heard coming from him.

All he managed to say as a reply had been a simple, breathless “Wow.”

Bakugou laughed weakly at that. A full minute passed before any of them said anything else.

“Ok, so, just to check, this is 100% percent real, right? I’m not dreaming or anything?” asked Kirishima, feeling like a complete fool for even opening his mouth.

“Obviously.” snorted Bakugou. Then, without giving Kirishima any chance to see it coming, he punched Kirishima in the arm, making the other yelp in pain. “Why didn’t you say anything? Were you just going to die like a moron?”

“Auch, don’t say it like that,” yelled Kirishima, taking his arm to his chest. A little advertisement would’ve helped a lot. He didn’t get to harden in time. “And it’s not like you said anything either.”

“You’re always like an open book. I thought you’d run around wearing your heart on your sleeve and shouting loving nonsense if you were into someone. How the heck was I supposed to know?”

It was a fair point. Kirishima didn’t know whether to be proud of his act or ashamed of it.

His lips still itched to touch Bakugou’s. Now, that he’s got to get a taste, he couldn’t help wanting more.

But there was still something they needed to settle first.

“So…” he started timidly. “Are we dating or am I reading too much into this?”

Bakugou stared at him intensely. “You’re not getting rid of me now, moron.”

Kirishima beamed at him.

“Do I, by any chance, get to call you my boyfriend?” he pressed, craving the answer to this question more than anything.

Bakugou didn’t look as content. “You know I don’t like that word.” At least he looked apologetic about it.

Thank God that Kirishima knew him enough after so many years to get what he meant. He smiled and asked, “How about partners, then?”

Bakugou definitely liked the sound of that a lot better. The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a sweet, little smirk. “Yeah, that should work.”

And that’s how it all began. That new chapter, less lonely, less distressing as the one before.

That day, after the waters calmed, they distanced themselves from the other only to grasp each other’s hands. They walked together outside (ignoring once again the door), not even staring at the remains of the petals. They were going to be nothing more than a memory now - Kirishima could feel it. It wasn’t going to heal automatically, it was going to take some time, but with Bakugou so close to him, representing a limitless future, he knew those were probably the last petals he was ever going to see that had a connection with him.

Things between him and Bakugou weren’t going to be perfect. There were going to be obstacles, more fights, more wounds. But there was also going to be affection and warmth and so much more.

As long as they were going to talk to each other from now on, they were going to get through everything - together as partners, in every single sense of the word.

And about that little issue regarding the time the disease started… Kirishima was going to keep that secret to himself a bit longer. Not too long though.

He glanced at Bakugou and smiled.

They were going to be fine.