#he doesn't kill the others because he's out of his mind with grief. he was Always Gonna Do That.

[imagine-you]

I Will Avenge My Ghost [Bucky Barnes/Reader] (2/?)

Summary: Your sacrifice on Vormir was meant to be your end. You did it for love. You did it for family. And you had no regrets in your decision to be the one to jump instead of Steve. But you never expected to wake up in Wakanda and you certainly never thought that you would still lose Steve and your sister in the years since your death. While you can't get Steve back, you're determined to figure out what happened to your sister and you end up dragging Bucky along for the ride. Your questions lead you to Westview, a sleepy little town harboring a dark past, and a witch named Agatha Harkness. Will you find what you truly seek down, down, down the Witches' Road or will Death finally come to claim you?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who responded to the last chapter and showed this fic some love. Y'all kept me going. 💖

Chapter One //

Read on AO3

"She's dead," Stephen choked out once you loosened your grip enough to allow him to speak. 

"Bullshit," you snapped, watching the way the darkness around him swirled, attempting to curl around your magic.  

"Your sister was not the same person you remember,” he tried to claim, as if that would make any of it better for you. 

“Then tell me,” you snarled, keeping him pinned to the wall with your magic. “Tell me what kind of person she was.” 

Stephen seemed like he was hesitant to answer, but when you tightened your hold on him, he finally spoke. “She was consumed by her grief and she did terrible things because of it. She enslaved a town with her mind and created a whole reality for herself where she got to have a family with Vision and her children at the expense of innocent civilians. She let the Darkhold corrupt her, because she was looking for the children she created across the multiverse, and she nearly killed a girl just to steal her power. She was responsible for the deaths of countless others all while she was blinded by what the Darkhold had done to her. I tried to tell her that the children, well they never truly existed, but--" Stephen's words cut off with a croak when you lashed out again with your magic, preventing him from continuing.  

"Children? Wanda had children? She had a family? With Vis?"  

"They weren't real," Stephen gasped, his hands attempting to push away your magic and give himself enough space to protect himself, but you realized with a thrill that you were stronger. "She created them with her magic." 

"That's what every mother does," you muttered, not sure where the words had come from, but knowing that it was true. It had been a whisper at the back of your mind. A forgotten memory rushing up to greet you.  

Stephen looked haunted for a moment, his skin paling at the words. "What did you say?" 

"It doesn't matter how she made them, because they're real. She made them real," you refuted with a quick shake of your head, ignoring Stephen's question. "My sister deserved a family. She didn't deserve whatever happened to her. And I refuse to believe she's really gone." She couldn't be. Not after the second chance you had been given.  

"Wanda died at Wundagore when she destroyed all copies of the Darkhold," Stephen continued, watching you warily as you got closer to him.  

You were listening to Stephen, but keeping your focus on the darkness around him. It was still trying to twine itself to your magic and you likened it to a pest that would never go away unless you did something about it.  

"It was her penance for what she did while under its influence," Stephen managed to get out before you tightened your hold on him again, cutting off his words.  

"Should we be stopping her? I feel like we should do something," Sam whispered to the others.  

"Not yet," Shuri responded. "I'd like to see where this is going." 

"And what of your penance, Stephen?" You wondered, tilting your head to the side as you considered him.  

"What?" He asked, gasping in a deep breath when you finally let him go.  

You had seen enough and heard enough from Strange to know what you had to do.  

"You used the Darkhold, didn't you?" You accused, watching him for his reaction.  

His eyes widened just the slightest, finally showing just the briefest glimpse of true uneasiness. "How did you know that?" 

"Because it corrupted you," you hissed at him, leaning forward again and caging him in by placing a hand on either side of his head. You swept your arms down, letting them slide along his sides, feeling the way the darkness inside him tried to latch on to you. "It stained your soul," you realized, knowing that the auras you were seeing around the others was a glimmer of their souls. You wondered if it was a side effect of sacrificing yourself for the soul stone. 

The darkness was unnatural and didn't belong attached to Stephen. You were suddenly sure that it would be so easy to burn it out of him and what better way to show your good will than helping the man who had let your sister fall apart from grief?  

You offered Stephen a smirk, letting your magic flare up in your hands. You knew, somehow, that your plan would work. You were changed, reborn, and stronger for it.  

"Well, you're in luck, Stephen, because I've decided that I'm going to help you. Brace yourself, though, this is gonna hurt like a bitch." 

Stephen barely had a moment to react before you were letting your magic cover him. You let it seep into his skin, curling around the darkness inside him and burning it away. Stephen was screaming and Bucky was calling your name and Shuri was yelling something to Sam but all you could do was smile at Stephen and wonder if he felt even a fraction of the pain your sister must have experienced.  

The power of your magic felt intoxicating. You had never been so completely embraced by it and you didn’t know what to do with the feeling. It was still incredibly impulsive and hard to control, but you knew that with time, you would adapt to it. You would control it more than it controlled you.  

You let your magic sweep all the darkness inside Stephen away. You felt it trying to retreat, curl itself up and hide itself away, but you wouldn't let it. You burned the corruption of the Darkhold right out of Stephen and when you were done, he collapsed, no longer held up by your magic.  

You suddenly felt arms around you and before you could lash out, you felt a brief sting at the side of your neck. You caught sight of Shuri's apologetic expression as she injected you with something. An icy chill crept through your veins and your vision blurred. The person holding you tightened their grip around you before lifting you up.  

"Sorry about this, doll," Bucky muttered before you felt unconsciousness claim you.  

The next thing you were aware of was someone's hand in yours and the sound of someone's soft breaths filling up the silence. You forced yourself to open your eyes, the dragging pull of sleep still clawing at you, but you were stubborn enough to fight it off. You managed to glance down to see that it was Bucky holding onto your hand. His head was tipped back and eyes closed as he slept sprawled out in an armchair that had been pulled up to your bedside. 

You were in a room you didn't recognize and lying on a bed that definitely wasn't yours. The room was plain, bare, all except for the necessary furniture. You didn't know whether to panic about being in a strange place or be grateful that Bucky hadn't abandoned you for acting like a vengeful psycho with Stephen.  

"It's mine," Bucky told you, startling you enough that you tightened your grip on his hand. "This is my room while I'm here in Wakanda." 

You nodded your head, trying to think of something to say. You felt like Bucky had just witnessed you at your worst and you only hoped there was nowhere else to go but up from here.  

"It's nice?" You tried, a smile tugging at your lips at the sound of Bucky's amused laughter.  

"Yeah, well, haven't had time to hire the interior decorator yet," he joked before glancing down and realizing he was still holding onto your hand. He untangled his fingers from yours, the barest hint of a blush staining his cheeks. "How are you feeling?" 

"You mean after I decided to burn the Darkhold's corruption out of Stephen and then got knocked out for my troubles?"  

Bucky winced, but nodded his head.  

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling your lips pull down into a frown. "Not much I can feel after everything I've lost," you mused, fighting the urge to reach out and grab Bucky's hand again. You were on your way to accepting Steve's loss, because he had never really felt like yours at all. You had fallen for him hard and fast while helping him fight Tony Stark and the government all for the sake of Steve's best friend and your feelings had only intensified while you were on the run with him. You knew that Steve had loved you, but you always got the feeling there was something missing with every kiss he gave you. His 'I love you's were meant for someone else, you supposed, and you were only lucky they had graced your ears at all.  

But Wanda? That was a loss you would not accept. She wasn't dead. You wouldn't allow it. Which meant that you would have to find a way to uncover the full story of her demise and find a way to fix it.  

"I'm sorry," Bucky interrupted your thoughts, a remorseful look on his face.  

"For helping Shuri knock me out? It was the smart thing to do," you assured him, knowing that your magic was no longer fully under your control. You were still learning the way it burned, bright and potent, and entirely too destructive. You knew that if left unchecked, you could do an incredible amount of damage, and you would have to find a way to tame the wild impulse of it before it did something you truly didn't want. "I'm not saying I would have killed Stephen, but he's definitely on my shit list." 

"I'm not sorry about that," Bucky told you with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry because I know what it's like to wake up and find out that everything has changed. I know what it's like to feel like you're not really in control." 

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out and placing your hand over his wrist. "I'm sorry you had to experience that at all. It's a shitty, terrifying feeling." 

Bucky snorted, gifting you with another smile. "You're telling me." 

You had always liked Bucky. You hadn't spent a lot of time around him, but you could see why Steve was willing to risk everything to save him. He had a sneaky brand of sarcasm that never failed to make you smile and he had always been there to watch your back when you needed him. He was kind, if self-deprecating, and carried a weight on his shoulders that life and tragedy had unfairly heaped on him. Despite the guilt he carried, he still found the time to comfort you when you needed someone most. You supposed maybe that was part of his guilt, but he had no blame to feel for what happened with Steve or Wanda. You were grateful for his presence, though, and you knew you weren’t done clinging to him like a lifeline.  

You really didn't want him leaving you too.  

"Let's get out of here," you suggested.  

Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you. "And go where?" 

"I don't care," you told him, already moving to get out of the bed. "Just out of the building, out of Wakanda. Somewhere where I don't feel like I'm constantly being watched." 

Bucky studied you for a moment before he narrowed his eyes in thought. "I think I have just the place in mind," he told you before he stood up. "Just let me tell Sam we're heading out." 

Three minutes later, you were waiting for Bucky while he had a tense conversation with Sam just down the hall. There was a lot of disappointed sighs on Sam's part and a lot of eye-rolling from Bucky, but it wasn't until Sam's voice rose that you caught any of their argument.  

"Are you sure you want to go with her? She seems a bit unstable," Sam pointed out, gesturing towards you.  

"I heard that," you called, shooting Sam an unimpressed look.  

He arched a brow at you, challenging and somehow accusatory. "I hope you did. I said it loud enough so you would." 

Bucky groaned, before reaching out to sling an arm around Sam's shoulders and began to tow him in your direction. "Look," Bucky started, lowering his voice, but you could still hear him despite the effort. "She just woke up after being dead for years and she's found out that her whole world is gone. And maybe she's not exactly the same person she was before she fell. If there's anyone who might be able to help get her through this...," he trailed off, letting Sam fill in the rest for himself.  

Sam froze in his tracks and turned to look at Bucky. "Ah, hell, Bucky," he breathed before his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're sure about this?" 

"Yeah," Bucky answered, letting his gaze settle on you. "I'm sure." 

Shuri got you a flight out of Wakanda. You didn't see Stephen on your way out, but you didn't care all that much to see him again. You still didn't forgive him for his part in Wanda's suffering and while there would be hell to pay, you had other answers you needed to seek first.  

By the time the jet was landing somewhere in America, you were starting to feel exhausted. Bucky took care of finding a rental car and instructed you to get some rest once you were settled in the passenger seat. You didn't think you'd be able to sleep, but the second you let your head fall back against the headrest, your eyes closed and you drifted off.  

You woke to Bucky's hand on your shoulder. "We're here," he told you, keeping his tone gentle in an effort not to startle you.  

You opened your eyes to the sight of a graveyard.  

You felt yourself tense at the vision of the cemetery gates guarding the rows of graves beyond it. You were suddenly sure that Bucky had taken you to Steve's grave in an attempt to get you to make your peace with his death, but Bucky kept his grip firm on your shoulder and seemed to realize that you were beginning to freak out.  

"Just trust me, alright?"  

You glanced over at Bucky and met his eyes. You knew Bucky wasn't cruel, so your first assumption that you were here to pay your respects to Steve was way off. You nodded your eyes and got out of the car once Bucky did.  

Bucky led you past one row of graves and another, seeking a specific one. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and you began to suspect it was a grave he visited often. He finally stopped in front of a headstone, standing just at the foot of the grave before shooting you an expectant look.  

You offered him a nervous one in return before finally reading the name on the tombstone.  

You couldn't stop the surprised laugh that escaped you once you realized whose grave you were visiting.  

"It's mine," you marveled, moving forward to brush your hand over the headstone. There were fresh flowers left all around it, ringing it like a boundary of protection. There was a wreath displayed beside the headstone that looked like it had been left recently enough that it hadn't been destroyed by the elements just yet. The sash across the wreath proclaimed ‘gone but not forgotten,’ and once you read the words you had to look away, choked up at the sentiment. Your gaze fell on the stuffed animals resting against the base of the tombstone, lined up like they were keeping vigil over your grave. 

"I thought you might find it funny," Bucky offered with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "I've got one too. An empty grave," he clarified, shifting on his feet when you glanced at him over your shoulder. "But no one ever leaves me teddy bears," he added with an amused grin.  

"Who left them?" You couldn't help but wonder, reaching out to pick up the teddy bear that Bucky had mentioned. It was blue and had white button eyes with a red heart stitched onto the stomach.  

"People who are thankful," Bucky answered, his voice growing solemn. "People who know you saved them. Their loved ones. The world." 

"Huh," you breathed, placing the teddy bear back down before thinking better of it and grabbing it again. "How often do people leave stuff?" 

"Daily," Bucky responded, clearing his throat when he started to say something else. "I, uh, I try to maintain it. Me and Nat and even Sam. Sometimes Clint, but he's been trying to spend as much time as he can with his family and doesn't come out this way that often. But it's mostly me. We'll throw out the flowers once they've wilted or donate the stuffed animals. Sometimes, they even leave balloons and cards," he said, studying you as you brushed your fingers gently over the roses left in one of the vases.  

You had been right all along. Bucky had easily navigated the way to your grave because he visited it often enough to have memorized where to go. The thought set off a funny little flip in your stomach and you decided to change the subject before you could embarrass yourself.  

You stared down at your own grave for a few moments before finally speaking.  

"What was the funeral like?" 

"Weird," Bucky huffed, sounding oddly relieved at the change in subject. You glanced at him, noticing he was blushing yet again. You never thought the Winter Soldier would be so easily flustered, but here you were with the evidence staring you in the face. "Silent," he added after another thoughtful moment. "No one really wanted to believe you were gone. Steve gave a beautiful eulogy and your sister didn't really say much of anything. We never saw her again after that. I think she had just lost too much to want to stick around." 

"Strange mentioned that Wanda took over a whole town," you started, finally turning to give Bucky your full attention. “Which town?” 

"Westview," Bucky supplied with a grimace. “It’s in Jersey.” 

"What happened?" You couldn't help but wonder. "What happened in Westview?" 

"I don't know much more about it than Strange did," Bucky confessed, offering you an apologetic wince. "The people who live there didn't seem like they really wanted to talk about it all that much. Like they just wanted to move on. Far as I can tell, though, what you heard was correct. Wanda took over a town and kind of used the people who lived there as her puppets. She created the life she was never actually going to get with Vision." 

"And she had kids," you mused, feeling your heart ache for your sister. Growing up, Wanda had only ever wanted a family and a life free of war. Losing your parents at such a young age and then being used as Hydra's lab rats had only made Wanda crave the kind of life she witnessed in the sitcoms she adored as a kid. The kind of life where nothing bad ever happened and the most harrowing choice the characters had to make was what to have for dinner. She wanted the white picket fence and dreamed of having a loving relationship with a partner who loved her unconditionally and kids of her own to mother. The fact that she had been so stricken with grief that she had been forced to create all of that with her magic left you feeling guilty.  

Maybe if you had been there for her, you could have helped her channel her grief in a healthier way. Instead, Wanda had to gain it all just to lose it all again.  

"Stephen talked about my sister like she was some sort of delusional villain," you finally continued, breaking free of your thoughts. "Wanda's not a bad person, Bucky. Just, sometimes, loss can make us do funny things."  

You thought of Steve using the time stone to get his own version of the white picket fence life with Peggy. Steve had broken the rules to find his own happiness. What happened to the timeline he disrupted? Maybe you would never know, but if everyone was okay with Steve breaking one of the cardinal rules of time travel, then why couldn't they understand that Wanda had only been chasing her own dream?  

She wasn’t a villain. She was just in pain.  

You were biased, sure, but you couldn't stomach the idea of people turning your sister into someone to be hated. Someone to be feared.  

You knew you would have to learn more about the deaths she caused, but you weren’t ready to unfold that part of Wanda’s story yet. The Darkhold had twisted your sister and you knew, deep down, even if you were loathe to admit it, that Stephen had likely been right. The Wanda that let herself fall to the temptation of the Darkhold wasn’t the same sister you had sacrificed yourself for, but you sure as hell weren’t going to stop until you found her again.  

"When she realized what she was doing to the town, she did release them," Bucky assured you, swaying forward like he wanted to reach out and console you. "I heard there was another witch there stirring up trouble and the only way to save everyone was for Wanda to destroy the illusion. I don't know what happened after that or to that other witch, but your sister went off the grid for a while. And then, well, maybe it's best we not get into that part of the story now. You've been through a lot lately." 

You wanted to argue, but you had a feeling that Bucky's next part of the story entailed whatever had happened to Wanda to make Stephen believe she was dead. You wanted more answers and you had a feeling that you were going to have to follow in your sister's footsteps to get them. You refused to accept that you had lost her like you lost Steve, which meant that you needed to try to get a feel for what happened to her.  

Maybe you needed to start at the place where it all began.  

"Do you know the way to Westview?" You asked Bucky, noticing the way his eyes widened just the slightest at your words. "I could try to go there by myself, but it's not like I've got my phone or a car, since I just recently stopped being dead." 

"I don't know if that's the best idea," Bucky started, his tone careful and unsure.  

"Buck," you started, finally crossing the distance between you. "I have to know. Please," you practically begged, suddenly sure that you couldn't do it without him.  

Bucky considered you for a moment before he heaved a defeated sigh. "Yeah, alright," he conceded, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. “Let’s go to Westview.” He didn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but you knew he also didn’t want to let you wander off by yourself.  

"Great," you told him, pushing the teddy bear into his chest as you passed him. "There's more where that came from," you promised before you took off towards the cemetery gates, delighting in Bucky's pleased laugh. 

Author's Note: If you would like to be tagged in this series or be added to my all Bucky taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @sunshinepeachx @bethexo07 @kisnini @greatmistakes @jvanilly

@circe143

[wilsonpussyindulgence]

just read an interview where emerald fennell says saltburn is "gothic" and like..........no, it's not. it simply Is Not That.

you can't have a man fuck a grave and be like "ooh just like wuthering heights! this is gothic" because guillermo del toro and i are both going to fight you

[anothermonikan]

Guys not to be judgemental but like. does Saw get good again. genuinely.

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻Spooky Greetings👻🎃💀

A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!

SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.

*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

“Hello, my lovely~”

The moment this new strapping figure — “Skully J. Graves at your service~” — appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.

After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?

Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.

And yet?

The moment he took your hand — only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?

You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.

Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!” Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.

“He means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.” Leona growled in Skully’s face as he grabbed his collar.

“On the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.” Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.

“Oho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.” Jade jested to his boss's ire.

“MY jewel’s already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.” Jamil hissed them both back and forth.

“Have you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.” Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.

“Don't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!” Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance. 

“How dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.” Malleus spoke doom.

The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.

“My future Queen … prepare yourself … FOR HELL.”

“WAKA-SAMA!” Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.

“For once, we're on the same page.” Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.

“TSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!” You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. “One kiss is not that big of a deal.”

You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.

“Good grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of ‘em. God, you're an idiot.” Grim griped.

Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. “YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!”

Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. “Oya oya … What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?”

“NO!!!” All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.

Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.

Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.

Halloween coated, no less.

[lyrefromthesea]

Hear me out... The hashira rival lover thing.. What if we don't get the chance/they don't get the chance to confess because we die??? 🦅🦅(I'm a sucker for angst)

Male hashira x Reader - Lost Chances

author's note: the hospital doesn't want me anymore, i'm finally back home.

pairing: Tengen x reader x Obanai, Rengoku x reader x Gyomei, Sanemi x reader x Giyuu

content warning: angst, death, descriptions of blood

Tengen and Obanai:

a month had passed since your death. neither of them had seen it coming, nor had they ever received the chance to safe you.

you left for a solo mission back then, promising them to return victorious, and while you did kill the demon in the end, you suffered from a major injury and died the same night.

your death had spread despair and sadness throughout the whole demon slayer corps, but it left the hardest impact on them.

while Tengen grieved over your death, he tried to continue his everydayness. it wasn't for his sake, but for you and the people around him.

Tengen knew you would've wanted him to continue living normally, it was one of the things that made him not only admire but also love you.

he didn't want to hurt his wives either, they didn't deserve to get caught up in his despair.

so while he wished that it would've been him, he tried to keep those thoughts hidden inside his very being, locked away where no one would find them.

Obanai, on the other hand, could not swallow his grief down like Tengen did. he had loved you with all his heart and he felt it break with the message of your death.

despite both of them suffering through the same pain, Obanai didn't have anyone waiting at home, no one too soothe his overactive mind. it was one of the reasons he didn't like to return to his estate.

his eyes were trained on the stone which had your name engraved in it, placing a fresh bouquet of flowers next to it. it wasn't the only one, he knew Tengen would visit you once a week, though they never ran into each other.

not until today.

"come, my wives had offered to invite you over." the hand on Obanai's shoulder felt different than their usual encounters. he had expected Tengen to leave a new bouquet on your grave, maybe a prayer too, and leave again.

despite Obanai's wish to remain alone and the dislike of meeting new people - especially women - he agreed this time.

and when he entered the Uzui family estate, he was surprised by the lively atmosphere and the welcoming smell of warm food.

he was quiet throughout their time eating together, at least most of the time, but he still found himself being comforted by his new surroundings.

Uzui's wives looked happy.

the thought kept repeating in his mind, wondering if you'd enjoyed this as much as they did now. he wondered if life would've been different if he had confessed to you - married you.

maybe you'd have stepped back. there would've been no harm in watching you give up your title and enjoy life.

and while the image of your life as a happy person, greeting him back home and cheerfully talking about your day, consumed his mind, he looked at Tengen.

seeing the other man's eyes soften, a twinge of hidden sadness in them, as he looked at his wives, he knew that Tengen must've imagined the same before too.

in the end, neither of them had been fast enough to hold out their saving hand.

Rengoku and Gyomei:

"take [name] with you and get to the butterfly mansion!" Kyojuro screamed, gripping his sword harder and running after the demon the three of you had fought for a while.

truthfully, people would've expected this mission to be finished without a problem, a team of tree hashira should be undefeatable.

and perhaps that would've been the case for most demons, but not for this one. whoever she was, she was a trickster out of the book, saving herself with movements you've never seen before. you quickly realized her weakness, seeing that she couldn't use her blood demon art without breaks that seemingly grew bigger. in a state of increasing distress and tiredness you shouted for the others to power her out, not expecting her next attack.

the sharp object penetrating your back, soon piercing through your front, didn't nearly hurt as much as Rengoku's expression.

"follow the plan, tire her out!" Gyomei shouted one last time, carrying your body towards the butterfly mansion. he hoped Rengoku had heard him, legs carrying him as fast as possible.

he could feel thick globs of blood escape your wound, staining his hands in a demon's wine. not much more and you'd be dead.

Rengoku, on the other hand, fought with all his might. he didn't fight for his life, he fought with the pain of knowing what this demon had done to you. after increasingly weaker attacks were thrown at him, he finally found a gap and beheaded the demon.

yet he couldn't breathe out in victory.

he turned on his heels, sprinting towards the butterfly mansion. he knew that Gyomei was faster and stronger than him, hoping that you had arrived in time.

all his hope died the second he saw your lifeless body in an infirmary bed, the giant man, who brought you here, sitting by your side.

"i didn't make it." he admitted, voice a whisper, throat running dry. the smell of your blood reminded him of days that had long passed.

Rengoku felt his own throat tighten, quietly closing the door to your room. grief was slowly climbing up his body, threatening to pull him down. even worse, he saw the same feeling behind Gyomei's eyes.

thick tears were staining the giant's face, too focused on your body to notice Rengoku stepping closer. a warm hand placed itself on Gyomei's shoulder.

"don't lower your head, comrade. [name], too, would've wanted us to set our hearts ablaze." the words that left Rengoku's mind had been heard by the male a million times already, but any trace of happiness was gone this time.

Gyomei nodded, not saying another word, not even when he heard the other male desperately try to hold back his own sobs.

Sanemi and Giyuu:

it hadn't taken more than a second - a mere second that left everyone breathless. the uppermoon you've fought wasn't that strong, not that smart, but incredibly fast. so even with three hashira, it was a huge gamble to take him on.

Sanemi was unluckily hit by the demon's attacks, throwing him over half the forest. and while he managed to land safely, it would take him some time to return to Giyuu and you.

"Sanemi!" you screamed, your eyes following him in worry, only to hear him scream back that you should pay attention.

his warning came too late, the demon lunged at you before you even got to turn around.

trying to safe your team from any more harm, Giyuu went after the demon, sword swiftly cutting through his neck. yet the sound that reached his ears with his attack was too other - too different - to be from his sword.

the demon crumbled to dust in a matter of seconds, leaving Giyuu panting. his eyes widened when you came into his line of sight again, but something felt wrong.

you weren't moving, his eyes wandering over your body until they stopped at your torso. he barely managed to land on his knees and catch you before you hit the ground.

the demon wasn't strong, but it was still strong enough to leave a whole in your side in his dying moments.

"[name]!" Giyuu felt his throat dry up, his hands starting to shake like never before. this wasn't happening. right?

"Gi.. yuu.." he wasn't used to seeing your eyes so empty, so devoid of life. you barely managed to say his name before blood spluttered out of your mouth, running down your lips.

"[name], stay alive! ..stay alive!" he didn't know when he last felt this helpless, but his legs wouldn't move. the butterfly mansion was too far away, no help was in sight. he didn't know where he should bring you.

your breathing.

it had stopped not even a minute after you've got hurt, the light having left your eyes for good. Giyuu felt his body tense, not able to move anymore. his hands were full of your blood, he could feel the crimson liquid leaking down his fingers.

the silence was broken by a guttural scream, another person running out of the forest. Sanemi's white hair was a stark contrast to the night's darkness, wind rushing through it as he ran to your lifeless body.

"[NAME]!" he fell to his knees next to you, first wanting to hold you close to his body, then pulling his hands away, too afraid to hold your fragile form. he was consumed in his panic, the sight of your corpse.

the next minutes were filled by screams and cries, Sanemi's agony soon making Giyuu quietly cry as well.

they only stopped when no more tears were left, no more screams to give. and after Sanemi has calmed down, thoughts began to fill his mind.

i should've been faster. I should've been stronger. if i had just been there a bit earlier-

he went quiet, his hands gently taking your body out of Giyuu 's hold and standing up. you deserved a grave, he couldn't leave your body here.

before he turned around to retreat, his dead eyes wandered to Giyuu, looking at him with unspoken malice. "you should've protected [name]."

no more words were said between the two males, Sanemi leaving the forest with your body in his hands, while Giyuu suffered through another breakdown, trying to drag his body back to his estate.

he wouldn't be able to see your face another time, not in this life. Sanemi was right, he failed to protect someone he loved. again.

if only he knew that Sanemi felt the same guilt swell in his chest, desperately trying to hold his cries in.

[aithusarosekiller]

I have another reg lives au :0

He comes out of hiding after the war and is allowed to become History of magic professor on the one condition that he changes his name to cover up his true identity (as he is supposed to be dead and all). He publishes some books while working there and manages to get in the paper a few times. Nobody seems to recognise him. He's there for a good few years before Remus comes along. They get along well and Remus begins to piece together who he is but Regulus has always preferred Severus by a wide margin as he's easier to relate to.

When Sirius breaks out everyone is obviously expecting him to hunt Harry so they all have their guards up, waiting for him to try and use somebody in the castle to get to him. Everybody anticipates it being Remus. They wonder why dumbledore had brought him in that year and have all heard the rumours about how close they were before the potters died so he was the natural suspect.

When the news of him appearing near the castle comes out they all have their eyes on Remus, waiting for him to do something that might give away his true intentions. Everybody is looking at Remus because OBVIOUSLY black is going to his ex first.

But he doesn't. He gets into the castle, fails to kill Peter, and then decides he has to see his brother, he simply can't wait any longer. He makes his way to his classroom, knowing he won't have much surveillance on him. Because maybe his soulmate was in the castle, but he would always look for his brother first, no matter what. Nobody else knew who it was in the paper but he'd recognise that nervous twitch of the eye and trained smile anywhere. He knew the shape of his face and the slight wave of his hair from after he used to get Sirius to cut it for him so he didn't mess up. Of course he did- even through the fog in his mind from Azkaban and the distorted memories grief gave him he knew him. He knew that he'd always go to him first, to make sure he was safe. And the worst part was that regulus didn't know whether to expect it or not until the door cracked open and a matted, grimy dog stood on the other side staring at him in pain.

[fixfoxnox]

Mw2 headcannons where Shepherd kills us as bait and sends a video of it to the team...

Oh boy oh boy this is dark isn't it? This should be fun though. Not sure if you wanted this as romantic or friendship so I'll try to toe the line.

141 Sent A Video of Reader Dying

Warnings: Reader Death, gunshots

Price is the one the video gets sent to, Shepherd knows that if it gets to Price the rest of the 141 will see it too

Price has been stressed about you being taken hostage by Shepherd, and while he's tried not to think the worst, he knows immediately what the video is as soon as it shows up.

The second he looks at it and sees no letter or anything attached, a part of him just knows. A part of him starts grieving right then.

For the rest of the 141, Gaz and Soap had been staying pretty positive.

It was clear that Gaz was feeding off of a lot of Price's energy, so while he knew the possibility, he'd been cautiously optimistic about getting you back.

He was one of the younger members of the team and while he'd seen death, it had never been anything as close as this. So in his mind, the possibility of you dying just didn't seem real.

There was no world for him in which he wouldn't eventually see you again and get to have your warmth to brighten up his days.

For Soap, he wasn't even letting himself consider the bad that could happen.

Even when Price and Ghost were trying to keep him realistic, to him there was just no world in which you didn't come back. He never even questioned it for a second.

Your disappearance didn't seem to bother him, because he expected that by the next week you'd be right back at his side, teasing him about something or the other.

For Ghost, he was probably the most pessimistic of the group.

Ghost has seen loss. He's seen loss and he knows what men like Shepherd are capable of, what they'll do to prove a point

So the second that Ghost hears that Shepherd has you, he practically already starts grieving.

He's more quiet and reserved from the rest of the group and when he refers to you, its already in past tense.

He and Soap butt heads a lot during this time. Ghost isn't being positive enough for Soap's taste, and Soap isn't being realistic enough for Ghost's.

Several times, Ghost just closes his eyes and tries to picture your voice and your face. He wants to commit you to memory, keep everything fresh enough that he can't forget.

Roach doesn't know what to think.

He's worried out of his mind and his brain keeps bouncing between grief and determination to get you back.

A part of him wants to just sit still and do nothing, a part of him is frozen in that state, just numbness as it tries to work through what is happening

The other part of him is working his ass off. This part doesn't care about processing what happened, it just wants to have you back.

He's already planning your return meal, the breakfast and lunch and dinner he'll make for you as he recovers.

Similar to Price, as soon as Ghost see's the tape, he knows.

Price walks in to the meeting room with it, Laswell trailing behind him and Ghost sees the little tape in his hand and his mouth just snaps shut. He doesn't say a word.

Price warns the group flat out. He tells them whats likely on the tape, he tells them that if they don't want to watch, if they don't want the chance of seeing, then they can leave

None of them leave. They can't, not when it comes to you. They have to see.

The video starts and immediately they're all on edge. There's you, tied to a chair in some dark and dank room.

You look tired and even over the video they can see the cuts and bruises on your skin, the way your clothes are torn and cut, how defeated you look.

Shepherd starts talking. He's walking around you, stopping behind you to place his hand on your shoulders. When he does you flinch.

Soap is seething as he watches the video. Roach seems frozen in place, Gaz is wringing his hands together nervously, Ghost hasn't moved a muscle, but his whole body is tense. Price seemed defeated.

They only pick up on bits and pieces of what Shepherd says, they're so focused on you.

They pick up on Shepherd saying that you've given them nothing, stayed loyal and kept your mouth shut no matter what they tried. Each of the boys feels pride flood through them at that.

But, of course, the video has to end and Shepherd brings things to a close.

He stops behind you in the video. "If we can't get anything from them, the least we can do is send a message."

He pulls his gun out. You don't flinch as you feel it press against the back of your head. You just stare forward at the camera, unmoving.

The gunshot rings out and your body slumps forward. The video cuts off and the 141 are left in the silence of what they've just seen.

It doesn't take long for tears to start falling. For Soap to collapse with his face in his hands against the table. For Gaz to look to Price, hoping to see something only to be met with the signs of clear grief on his face. For Roach to feel tears slide down his cheeks as he stares forward, completely unmoving. For Ghost to get up and leave the room, unable to sit with the group any longer as grief consumes them.

A cloud lays over the 141, they've lost one of their own. They have to start grieving.

[paraphwrites]

dead boy detectives is a show about forgiveness and goodness and change. but also, not.

marren isn't a bad person. she's a scared teenager and she accidentally kills her shitty boyfriend and she feels bad about it and she decides to turn herself into the police even though, honestly, she kind of did not have to in my opinion (sorry i know being pro murder is a wild take but this is fiction hush). she chooses to be good and she chooses to take accountability for her actions. but she doesn't forgive brad or hunter because what they did is not worthy of forgiveness

crystal is a dick! crystal's an absolute dick before she's possessed. but once she's taken out of a toxic environment she chooses to become better because she knows she can and she knows she should. crystal isn't a bad person before because she wants to be she is a bad person because she doesn't know how else to be. she doesn't forgive her parents but she does want to fix their relationship

charles is not a bad person, ever, but he thinks he is. he thinks he's a bad person because he was taught that he was and because all the other boy's around him were, so why would he be the exception? charles is not a bad person but he has to learn that. he does not forgive his dad, nor should he, but he also does not forgive himself or process the situation whatsoever. because his arc is incomplete

esther is a bad person because she is made into a bad person. i think we overlook how irresponsible it is of lilith to make an angry, vengeful person immortal - yes, esther was wronged, and lilith didn't think through the potential harm esther could do. after all, i think it is far easier to loose your humanity when you are immortal. esther wasn't a bad person initially but she chose revenge instead of forgiveness and then she still chose to harm other people instead of moving on

simon is not a bad person, he is sixteen. but, he still does horrible, horrible things, and he feels horrible about it. he's complicated. he's in hell. he's sixteen. he's a murderer. he's sixteen. and it all kind of coalesces in this violent swath of guilt and grief which consumes everything, including the people around him, including edwin. edwin forgives simon but simon cannot forgive himself so simon is lost forever. edwin moves on and simon does not and that is that

monty is selfish, not evil. i think he got caught up in the fantasy of liking edwin and chose to ignore the real facts that he was trying to facilitate his death. he played pretend that he and edwin could sit on swings and kiss forever, as if that would stop esther's plan. and when edwin did not reciprocate his feelings, monty decided he should die for that. but, he still did feel a lot of remorse about it and tried to change his mind. the damage was still done, though

dbda is not a show which preaches forgiveness but it is a show which demands you try your best to be kind.

monty was nice but he was not kind. esther was mean but she was honest. crystal was mean because she was angry, and once you took away that anger, she was kind. they're all immortal or sixteen and more often than not both. they're all fucking traumatized. they aren't all trying to be good. some of them are better people than they deserve to be. some are worse people than the rest deserve.

we aren't all trying to be good but dead boy detectives says we should. it also says it's not too late to start trying today. yes crystal was a bad person before. and now she is trying not to be. yes monty was selfish and dangerous before. and now he is trying not to be. yes simon was a bad person before, and now he is so trapped in his own guilt that he is unable to make amends and instead just rots.

we can all be better. and, we can all be worse. change is not inevitable but it is possible and that is important

[shiiro-arts]

Thank you so much for replying to my previous ask in such detail (I loved it and really, really appreciate your efforts 🙏)

I just started rewatching the anime and I saw the focus they kept on Lisanna hence my doubt. From Erza I felt it was more of a sibling type dynamic (that Erza sees Natsu and Gray more as her younger brothers) but they really pushed the Lisanna narrative in the beginning. And given the way he reacted differently to Lucy and Lisanna like becoming flustered with Lisanna I wondered.

Please do talk about the killing himself part too.

I love reading your analysis!! Thank you so much for your hard work ❣️ (Feel free to push in NaLu scenes that show it their bond more obviously)

Hi!! I'm happy you liked it, I'm going to try and talk about Natsu and Lisanna a little bit more and then I'll start with the whole killing himself thing. (following this post)

I think the reason they focused on Natsu and Lisanna at the beginning is because a lot of studios/mangakas have the need to create a couple, even better if it's an MC. And pairing Lucy and Natsu up from the beginning doesn't make any sense, they just met and didn't know each other.

Lisanna is a really important person to Natsu, although they hardly interact anymore.

She supported Natsu when he first came to the guild and became his first friend. Not only that, she helped him with Happy, hence the whole wife and husband thing, they represented a family.

Natsu is not as stupid as they make him out to be, he knows what marriage is, exclusivity to a partner

and things only adults are supposed to do.

He knew what Lisanna meant by "we'll get married in the future," and if she had never "died," NaLi would have made sense.

But it happend, Lisanna "died" and Natsu had to get over her. This doesn't mean forget her tho, as I said, Natsu LOVES his family and friends, forgetting about lisanna just because she died would not make any sense. It takes time to accept death, and after Igneel's disappearance, the death of lisanne hit him, HARD.

The only thing he could do was getting over her, but not forgetting her.

And that's when Lucy comes into the picture.

She keeps bumping into him, buys him food for "no reason" and talks all mighty and good about his family, basically, she gives him good vibes. He takes her to FT and for some reason she follows him everywhere and before he knows it, he wants to partner up with her.

This is development by natsu's part, he is ready to open up to new people (Lucy) and pretty much they become attached to the hip, because "she is nice", yeah, that's his reason.

Lisanna wasn't meant to come back, mashima himself said so, the only reason they brought her back was because the animation staff preasured him to because they liked her. NaLi is not happening because Mashima never had anything planned for her, and I'm not saying this because I'm a NaLu fan, it's just facts. Thats why she is so useless in the manga, because mashima doesn't know what to do with her. She is just there.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Let's beging with the whole suicide thing

I want to clarify that this is MY PERSPECTIVE, you might agree or disagree with me and thats completely fine.

Let me beging with one thing, and that is that natsu IS NOT SUICIDAL.

He wants to live his life at the fullest and he looks forward to the future.

Then why do I say he wanted to kill himself? because when lucy "died", he was so full of grief that he just didn't care any more.

One thing that they make clear is that the demons of zeref, once awaken, have only one thought in their minds: KILLING ZEREF

Lucy's "death" is what awoke END, Natsu felt so desperate and he was so full of grief that he literally abandoned his humanity.

She was gone and he blamed zeref, because if he had never started the war, she would be alive, that was enough for him to abandon his morals and look forward to kill someone.

Now comes the important part: his confrontation with grey

This part is really important because it shows that Natsu is aware of his actions.

If he really was completely possessed by END, then he would not have hesitated and warn grey about getting out of his way, he would have just killed him and keep going, but Natsu warns him several times

Until he doesn't give a damn anymore and attacks him.

Natsu was adamant about going after zeref and killing him, but he is also aware that if he does so, he will die. Zeref told him so himself.

But lucy is dead, so he just doesn't care anymore.

Igneel talked to him about looking at the future

But Lucy wasn't in that future anymore, so he can't look forward for it, because it died the moment Lucy did. if she wasn't in it, why bother? He knew that killing zeref was killing himself.

Gray literally saved Natsus life confronting him

This whole panel is foreshadowing to Lucy dying and Natsu wanting to die because of it

[bisclavret]

there's a palpable missing link in gwen's characterization that the show has almost hinted at but never explored in a satisfactory way and after hours of riffing with @morganadismay i think it might be summarized with just. ambition? on a show as juvenile in its moral politics as bbc merlin ambition might be seen as a hunger for something and therefore a sinful bad thing so gwen just seemed to kind of seamlessly and elegantly rise to power, but honestly when you attribute a sense of ambition to her, the entire character that is guinevere clicks into place:

she has the most solid moral compass out of everyone in that castle - and she knows it. by her late teens she is already lady morgana's servant (morgana who, at this point, is the progressive and rebellious "adoptive" daughter of the king - perhaps someone to stay close to if you want to see reform?) and she flocks to merlin the second she sees him stand up to the prince. then, as soon as she realizes prince arthur actually listens to what she has to say and that it has an effect on his actions (makes him more progressive, open-minded, and class conscious) she subtly moves her interest from merlin and morgana onto him.

((affection is a propelling part of all these decisions, of course, anyone that's seen how gwen treats people doesn't doubt that it's with genuine love and kindness and care for their well-being. i'm just trying to argue that there's more to her than that, or rather that it's precisely this love that is driving her ambition as well:))

the show is written in such a way that only one person per episode can have a braincell so gwen's cleverness is often cast to the wayside so another character can have a go at using their brain, but we can all agree she is overall the smartest character out of the core four. and when you're as smart and full of love and worry as gwen is, it's intolerable to acutely feel the kingdom's injustices and do nothing about them. people often talk about how gwen is impossible to upset or make angry because she is just that empathetic and understanding and can easily put herself in people's shoes. these are definitely elements of gwen's personality, but i don't care how empathetic you are, when someone kills your dad - a sweet, innocent man - in the name of tyrannical ethnic cleansing of people with magic, you do not, you cannot brush it away. especially if you are as clever and empathetic as we know gwen to be.

and yet that's what she seems to do. in one of the most tone-deaf and frustrating and nonsensical conversations in the entire show, she tells merlin she would not kill uther, the mad tyrant king that just killed her fucking dad and is killing so many people on a daily basis, because then she would be just as bad as him. and i do think she believes this. because that's how she was written. however, there were other ways for her to show her displeasure with the royal family after they killed her literal dad. and she chose none. instead, she stayed close and hardly ever acknowledged her huge, enormous loss (elyan had been away for years and she had no mother to speak of - they killed her only family).

because she's strong? sure. but have you lost a loving parent? strength has nothing to do with what that sort of grief does to you. and i think it is precisely through that grief that gwen makes her choice to stick around and see this relationship with the royal family through as far as it can go. she lets her anger solidify into determination - determination to turn arthur into a better version of his father so these injustices have a chance at stopping once he's king.

she lets go of lancelot. she becomes more feminine, her hair longer and her corsets tighter every time we see her. she tolerates arthur's indecisiveness and brashness and morgana's increasing outbursts of cruelty. she never fully seems to expect to become queen, always quick to offer to let go of arthur for The Greater Good (merlin could take a page from her book), but that's precisely what makes her ambition a good trait. it's steadfast, it's logical, and the end goal isn't power for the sake of power. it's a slow, borderline sisyphean climb up the social ladder until she has stable enough footing to enact the reform that her contemporaries were too undiplomatic to achieve.

TL;DR you cannot get where gwen gets by the end of the show through true love or luck or a series of accidents. it would be a disservice to gwen's character to ignore the hints of calculating ambition in her actions and to pretend the compromises she had to make to get where she ends up were easy. what's amazing about her is that she is the sort of lovely, warm woman whose kindness could get taken advantage of until there is nothing left, but instead she turned her love and wisdom into an asset that helped her, essentially, win the game of thrones. i just wish the writers had let this side of her shine through.

[saintsenara]

Have you done Snape/Sirius for the ship asks yet?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and what better occasion than sirius' birthday to give @ashesandhackles something she's been waiting for for well over a year...

so here we are then...

the snack manifesto

besides the ship name, the reason this ship slaps is for the absolutely classic reason that it's smashing a narrative mirror pairing together.

snape and sirius are obviously incredibly similar personality wise - they're both arrogant, theatrical, incredibly clever, creative, capable of great cruelty, stubborn, loyal, possessed of dry senses of humour, from difficult family backgrounds, and so on - and their differences - such as their looks, class, or wealth - are polar rather than divergent.

but they also serve identical narrative purposes. each functions as the guide who leads harry through the character arc which begins in prisoner of azkaban and concludes in deathly hallows, in which he sheds his childish, black-and-white view of his parents and comes to regard them as real, flawed, and complex people.

sirius takes him up to the end of order of the phoenix [and is then immediately killed, his narrative role complete], when harry's realisation that james was a bully stops his earlier hero-worship of his father and allows him to approach him as a whole person.

[which is important, since we then see in half-blood prince that voldemort's inability to do this - and his inability, therefore, to cope with the disappointment of discovering the elaborate fictional version of tom riddle sr. he'd created in his head wasn't what the real one was like - is why the text understands harry as superior to him.]

snape - through the proxies of slughorn, the discipline of potions, his textbook, his patronus, and his memories - takes harry through half-blood prince and deathly hallows, as harry starts to think more deeply about lily [who spends the earlier books secondary in importance to james in his mind] and to eventually learn that she and her sacrifice are the keys to the entire mystery.

snape and sirius are the figures who assist in this arc because each of their lives are defined by their relationship with and love for one half of james and lily as a pairing. their mirrored relationships with harry are similarly driven by their mirrored relationships with his parents.

and, most importantly, so is their relationship with each other. they hate each other on sight because snape blames sirius for james noticing lily [thus drawing her attention away from him] and sirius blames snape for the same thing [thus drawing james' attention away from him] and their constant mutual antagonism is the most interesting snape-versus-one-of-the-marauders dynamic because of the equality this lends. snape likes antagonising sirius - even though he thinks sirius tried to murder him! - whereas he is straightforwardly afraid of lupin and feels inferior to and resentful of james, because he must sense - however subconsciously - that sirius is his emotional equal: someone else struggling against the fact that the person he loves doesn't love him with the same intensity.

the mutual spark this creates is hot enough for an enemies-to-lovers conflagration for the ages even while they're at school. but it gets so much better once we're in the canon timeline, since sirius and snape's adult characterisation is entirely driven by their mirrored approaches to guilt and grief.

both of them indirectly trigger the death of the person they love - snape via reporting the prophecy, sirius via insisting on the secret keeper swap - and neither accepts that his actions were, in fact, indirect.

hollowed out by this feeling, both of them decide to punish themselves in an effort - one which they both clearly consider near-futile - to atone. both of them do this by subjecting themselves to the pain and humiliation of imprisonment and being thought a criminal - sirius by refusing to profess his innocence at any point before 1993; snape by staying at hogwarts and insisting that dumbledore keeps his true motivations concealed, allowing him to be thought of as an unreformed death eater - until they have a shot at the only thing they each think will redeem them in james and lily's eyes - murdering wormtail, for sirius, and murdering voldemort, for snape.

[after all, why does dumbledore say to harry at king's cross that his aim was for snape to control the elder wand if he wasn’t hoping he'd use it to give the dark lord his death blow? it's just a shame the dream-team of draco malfoy and nagini got there first...]

and this mirrored grief provides such a good point of narrative tension between them, which can so easily grow into something romantic.

because you have, at first, the fact that each can use the other's grief to wound - snape can scream at sirius about how stupid the secret keeper plan was; sirius can scream at snape about what a cunt he was to report the prophecy to voldemort - and to soothe - if snape blames sirius for lily's death, he can pretend that reporting the prophecy was less integral to it than it was; if sirius blames snape for james', he can pretend that insisting wormtail was the secret keeper was less integral to it than it was.

but this can then grow into a recognition of both their mutual culpability - the secret keeper swap only happened because of the prophecy; the prophecy could only be acted upon because of the secret keeper swap - and their mutual lack of it - neither actually knew that what they were doing would doom james and lily, and voldemort is the person who is actually to blame for their deaths.

and this can grow into each of them offering the other the forgiveness he craves, but can't give to himself.

and so, they're the best of the series' mirror pairings for writing love which is totally, utterly equal.

for example, harry and voldemort - who are the series' main narrative mirrors - don't have the mutual weight of guilt driving their relationship. writing them as a consensual romantic pairing requires dealing with the concept of forgiveness, absolutely - but harry is the only person who actually needs to do the forgiving; he hasn't done anything to voldemort which is an equivalent to voldemort killing his parents. similarly, while the grief of their orphanhood and the way it shapes them is one of their main mirror traits, this grief doesn't have equal causes - voldemort's mother died in childbirth; his father, and both of harry's parents, died because voldemort murdered them.

with snape and sirius - in contrast - there is none of this imbalance. they interact with each other - whether they're holding their wands to each other's throats or cuddling on the sofa [or, let's be real, both] - as equals [even though sirius attempts to introduce an element of inequality into many of their canon interactions by alluding to their divergent social classes].

which is to say, there's a respect behind the loathing which allows the loathing to be transformed with very little work into love.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Holidays Shana!! I really love your prompts about Greek mythology. Could you write a continuation of Hades or God's and Monsters?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Zagreus is mid word when he stills, eyes going distant. "Huh. I'll be right back."

"You're joking," Megaera says flatly. "You can't just drop this on me and-"

"Technically, Than did that." He would really prefer if Zagreus didn't pull him into this. "I'll be quick. She's calling me, it can't be anything good."

"Who's she?" Megaera demands but Zagreus is already gone. She scowls and turns to the others. "Who's she?"

"Eliana, maybe," Sisyphus offers, completely unruffled at Megaera's ire. "At least take a look out the balcony. This is the highest point in the court and the view is really spectacular."

It is. Thanatos hadn't known the underworld could be beautiful before he'd seen what Zagreus had built.

Her eyes narrow. "How long has this been going on?"

"Oh, I can't say for sure," Sisyphus shrugs, his lips almost curling into a smile. "I wasn't really there for the beginning."

"I was."

They both turn to Patroclus. Eurydice is the only one of them that's suitably wary of either him or Megaera.

"He grew poms in my clearing first," he continues. "It's where we grew things until it became too full and then he created this. Zagreus has woven protections around it, to keep others from stumbling upon it accidentally, but I'm sure you could find it if you looked."

Megaera crosses her arms. "I'm not leaving."

Patroclus shrugs. Eurydice looks longingly towards the door and Sisyphus seems to actually be enjoying himself.

Thanatos stiffens, pain with no physical cause blooming from his chest. "He's died."

"Really?" Eurydice asks, taking a step closer. "He doesn't really do that anymore."

"Except for show," Sisyphus adds, frowning. "But you're both here."

Before Thanatos can decide how he feels about that, Zagreus is slipping back through the mirror, flicking off blood from his arms. "Sorry about that, Artemis wanted a favor."

Thanatos cannot have heard what he thinks he did.

"Artemis?" Megaera repeats dangerously.

"Oh, she told Aphrodite by the way," he adds casually, then pauses. "Actually, she was pretty surprised to see me, so I guess Artemis just called me and let her figure it out herself. Cold."

"Well, this is all unraveling," Patroclus says, but he doesn't seem that worried about it. Not nearly worried about it as Thanatos thinks he should be.

Zagreus shrugs. "They can keep a secret. Also it's been almost fifty years already, this can't go on forever. I suppose I could just challenge Demeter outright?"

"Do not do that," Eurydice says.

Thanatos wants to sit down.

"Have you LOST YOUR MIND?" Megaera screeches, grabbing Zagreus's shoulders. Her nails dig into him, but he doesn't bleed. "You can't do this! You can't - have you - this is crazy!"

Zagreus shrugs, pressing her nails deeper into him. "What's she going to do? Kill me?"

"There will be war," Thanatos says quietly while Megaera seems lost for words.

"Long overdue, if you as me," he says casually. "She's killing a lot of people, Than. She's undermining the other gods and making things worse for everyone all because she lost her daughter. She's turning against her own domain because her grief is more important than her duty. I can't make my mother talk to Demeter. But I have the power to stop her, to put an end to this winter. So I have to stop her."

"This isn't your responsibility, Zag," Thanatos says quietly.

"No," he agrees, expression souring. "It's my mother's. But if the goddess of spring won't do her duty and put an end to winter, then I will."

"Why?" Megaera asks, something small and scared in her that Thanatos hasn't seen since the first time she heard of Zagreus attempting to escape. "Why does it have to be you?

"I am a son of life's beginning and of life's ending." Zagreus says gently. "I know there is balance. I exist because of that balance. When I was born, I had too much of my father, and Nyx filled me with my mother's blood, because I can only exist when there is both." Thanatos hadn't known that, hadn't known how exactly his mother managed to save a stillborn Zagreus. "Who else, Meg?"

She doesn't have an answer.

There isn't one.

[starry-bi-sky]

thinking about Dan in CFAU and just how different he needs to be (in my opinion) in order for Danny's whole thing to work. Canon Danny with Dan's influence, would never even consider thinking of killing anyone even after losing people close to him because he'd be scared of becoming like him. CFAU Danny however has been festering in this hurt and anger for years and wants the Joker dead and is plotting it. I don't think he'd do that with Dan's influence.

I explained how Rath came to be in this post here. Things happened in TUE as normal -- Danny's family dies, he lives with Vlad, Vlad rips out his ghost half. The difference here is that not only was Danny in a grieving state (something exclusive to banshees that the post goes into) but he also doesn't end up fusing with Vlad.

What happens instead is that Danny's ghost half, consumed already with grief and now enraged by being murdered and lied to by Vlad, destroys him completely and disappears into the ghost zone. He traps himself unintentionally in a negative feedback loop of grief, and as a human spirit banshee, cannot mentally handle the constant agony and sorrow he's experiencing. What happens is that he ends up driving himself insane with misery.

So the difference here, ultimately, between Dan and Rath, is that at the end of the day; Dan is fully aware of his actions. He knows what he's doing is wrong, and delights in it. He acknowledges his lack of humanity and feels no remorse in doing what he does.

Rath? He's... not. Not really. Dan is a hulking mass of muscle; tall, towering, terrifying. He loves what he does and does what he loves. Rath, however, appears as a scrawny young boy in raggedy clothes far too big for him, hunched in on himself while dirty, unkempt hair curtains his face and hides whatever he doesn't have ducked down in his curled-in form.

Rath is locked in a constant, unending state of sorrow and misery. He, for lack of better words, is unable to perceive the world around him properly and lashes out terribly and violently at anyone or anything that catches his attention. The only thing that he knows is that his family is gone, his other half is gone, that everyone he loves is gone, gone, gone.

He is a zombie apocalypse wrapped up in the form of a malnourished child, wandering the world in search of people who are not there, and becomes furious if you're not them. He is constantly crying, but he's been crying for so long that he's all but lost his voice. Meaning anyone trying to keep an ear out for him has to listen for soft, pained gasps and quiet whimpering, and wonder if the sound they're hearing are hurt survivors, or the very thing they're running from.

As a result, Rath's influence on Danny isn't that he's scared of doing something bad and becoming like him. He's scared of losing control of himself and dooming himself and others to eternal misery. As a result, he's adamant that things that he's done were not done out of pure emotion, but were active choices he made.

Up to and including killing the Joker. There's enough grief and rage behind his views on him that anyone could argue, especially knowing that Danny's a ghost, that he was not in the right mind when he did it. He was blinded by his emotions and was not in the right mental capacity, he had no control over himself. It'd work as a convincing argument.

If it weren't for Danny himself arguing against it. Killing the Joker was a choice he made, fully and willingly. It was autonomous, premeditated murder and he won't accept anything else -- it was not a fit of passion, it was not act of insanity, it was a decision. He won't accept it being anything else but revenge either, and if anyone tries to claim that it was a necessary evil he will yell at them. He didn't do this for the betterment of the public, that was just a fortunate side effect. He did it for himself and Jason. If you wanted it to be a necessary evil, then you should've killed him yourself. It was a selfish evil and he knows it.

In the end, Dan’s existence would prevent Joker’s death. Rath’s existence only solidifies it.

Rath's complete difference from Dan is one of my favorite parts about this au even if he never makes a direct appearance.

[pomefioredove]

angelum

summary: morally insecure reader type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, yuu is at nbc now, hurt/comfort, a little fluffy, extremely self indulgent, rollo is ptsd coded as per usual

Perhaps he didn't know you as well as he thought.

But then again, perhaps he didn't want to.

Rollo had become accustomed to the comfortable home you had made yourself within his mind, warm and comforting and far, far away from the dark crevices he worked so hard to stave off.

It mirrored reality, in a sense; he saw it as his duty to keep you safe and away from all the evils of the world, the magic and sin and those who would lead you astray... some days, he felt that he could shrug the rest of his life off his shoulders and solely devote himself to your keeping. Others, he was bothered by nasty thoughts of doubt, those that told him he was only doing to you now what he couldn't have done all those years ago.

Rollo kept himself occupied enough to avoid thinking about it too much.

He did not see a reason to tell you of his mission, of course. You- pure, perfect, untainted by the sins of this world- wouldn't understand. No one would. But you never questioned it, either. Most days, you were simply happy to be treated well (the implications of which he did not want to dwell on; Rollo had made himself a promise not to pry too much about your experience at Night Raven College).

Always so grateful. So kind. Too kind, sometimes, that it caught him off guard. Rollo had not had a friend since...

...Never mind, that.

So perfect. So pure. Everything he could ever aspire to be, but never would, all captured in one person. An angel sent for him, and him alone.

But just as there were things you wouldn't understand about him, there was a sea of mysteries about you.

He can't imagine how you could cause yourself such grief.

Delicately holding your face between his hands, palms gently pressed to each wet, salty cheek, as if you were made of porcelain. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, not bothering to pull away to retrieve his handkerchief. He can't even think of that right now. Seeing you in such pain is tearing him into halves.

"I'm a bad person,"

"No," he says, almost immediately. His voice sounds more desperate than he would have liked. He can't help it.

"I am,"

He had already spent thousands of nights wishing for some miracle that could heal unseen wounds, but that desire had become stronger than ever now. He would have gladly torn his heart out of his chest and given it to you if it would help.

He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way. He hates himself for caring so deeply.

Yet, he still can't hate you.

Never you.

"You're not," he insists. "Tell me what's happened. I will make it better."

You don't respond, and it kills him. However you managed to get such an awful idea about yourself, he can't say. Perhaps it came from Night Raven College. Perhaps it's even older than that.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because it is not true.

It's not true.

It's not true.

After all, if you are a bad person, then what does that make him?

You avoid his eyes. "You can't," there's long pause to take a shaky breath. "You can't make it better. I've tried... I've been trying... it doesn't go away. It's like... I've been shattered into a million pieces, and I can't be put back together again."

Rollo winces, though he doesn't show it on his face.

There are these things you do, these brief moments, soft exchanges of words, certain looks on your face, that remind him all too much of himself.

He pities you. He pities himself.

"Stop it," is all he can think to say. "Do not say such things about yourself. You are not broken. You are not evil. Do you think I would dirty myself by associating with such people?"

You're quiet for a long moment. He does not like the silence, so he keeps talking.

"I cannot address what you won't tell me, thought you should know that no matter what you were told at Night Raven College or elsewhere, here, you are valued. You are wanted. You are the most..."

Rollo hesitates for a moment, taking but a second to compose himself and rephrase whatever it was he was about to say.

"...the most exceptional student I have ever met. Your humility is honorable, but I will not allow you to drown in it. Let yourself feel this, recover, but know that here, at Noble Bell, you are nothing less than an angel."

Failing to find anything else to say, another long silence is cast over the room, though this one significantly less tense than the last. The only noise between the two of you is of crackling fire, though it sounds miles away when he looks at you like this.

Eventually, you speak. "...Thank you,"

"My pleasure," he mumbles, finally releasing the hold he's had on your face for the past several minutes and leaning back to get a better look at you. "...Let me help."

He sits a little closer, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he's done a thousand times before within the private confines of his room. Though, this time feels...

The purple and gold of his handkerchief cloud your vision as he gently dabs at your tears until he's satisfied, which he marks with a soft hum.

"Don't get up yet," he says after, allowing you to lean against his body for much longer than he has before. "The fire is still warm."

[uthseikoashx-goingmyway]

things in IWTV season 2 i'd lose my mind if it actually happens (or when. because some of those things will happen.). sorry for the mistakes btw

1. Claudeleine romantic relationship

Claudia finally having a vampire lover she can be herself with. the romantic & sexual tension. the heart to heart Louis and Claudia would have before changing Madeleine. the yearning. the tragic ending. the change of dynamics in the De Pointe du Lac family. the disruption of it all.

2. an exploration of Armand's relationship to religion, faith and God

specially in 2022. past religious crisis. how he articulates his vampire nature, his faith and his despair. lots of hints of TVA. God and art. religion, Armand and Louis. his religion (conversion from being christian to being muslim in this universe? if so, why?). "i serve, a God," would you mind to develop?

3. dramatic irony about Daniel's past and Devil's Minion

the rent boy. Daniel actually realising he had been a dick about that. "oh." after understanding the irony of it all. Armand talking in riddles and hinting at something Daniel is totally ignorant of. young Daniel's life and messy, loving and weird relationship with Armand. some activism. 2022 Daniel getting old, sicker and sicker. laughs. angst. tension. yearning. longing stares. petty remarks. revelations.

4. Loumand complex relationship

the love and the suffering. how they are both deeply attached to each other. how they show their care. the place Lestat holds right in the middle. how they deal with Claudia's death. what Louis really thinks about it. the tension. the yearning. how their relationship actually developed. the extent of Louis' memory alteration and how it plays a role into their dynamics. the after: how Armand helped Louis. messy divorce vibes. petty moves. to what extent their relationship is doomed. how one person can love several persons and in different ways, and how complex and delicate it is.

5. The Groan™

what is that. a metaphor for sexual arousal? Lestat scratching the walls? Rashid trapped? some clues. what the fuck.

6. Antoinette alive and kicking

and coming back right on time for the trial, because it would be 1) so fucking funny 2) utterly tragic, considering Claudia would be killed for killing nobody.

7. amazing outfits

amazing outfits

8. lots of french

i'm french

9. Claudia and Armand's relationship

Claudia being protective of Louis. Armand dealing with it. some sort of bond rivalry. both of them aware that something's wrong with the other. Armand and Claudia's similarities being acknowledged (age, killing a human they loved — Charlie, Ricardo — and complex situation regarding their maker), even a possibility for some kind of understanding and compassion (making the end more tragic). Armand seeing a some of Lestat in Claudia. Claudia seeing Armand's love for Lestat. a common love for theater and spectacular shows. that awful experience before Claudia's death.

10. Louis and memories

the photos he takes (where are they in 2022? will they clash with Louis' tale?). the metatextual dimension of themes such as: unreliable narration, memories and perspective, autofiction. Daniel calling out Louis' avoiding strategies. Louis calling out Daniel's rudeness and biais. how Louis really sees his relationship with Claudia? the gap between Louis' and Armand's recalling. a deeper exploration of his superimposed identities (black, queer, american man; in 1940, 1973, 2022). learning how to trust someone new after being abused. the rain metaphors. Louis saying the most poetic and heartbreaking thing you'll ever heard. his relationship to vampirism as he joins Armand's coven. grief and loss of a family member. hallucinations and how they are filmed / manifesting. guilt. loving Claudia and Armand. loving Lestat, still. etc.

tysm for coming to my tedtalk. it was very self-indulgent but very much pleasant. i won't be mad if it doesn't happen (obviously!), or not like i imagine. still, it's fun to imagine and put that here on tumblr. no shame on lestat, i just have no special things i'm waiting for about him, and will be very happy indeed to see him again. salut

[nomazee]

keep my blankets warm and my name in your mouth

after a night of soaring through belobog's liquor, you finally face the consequences of it on the floor of your hotel room. thankfully, dan heng has experience with taking care of idiots (i.e. you)

dan heng x gn reader — drunkenness, sweet and sappy and sarcastic, dan heng is probably ooc, reader is trailblazer but this is set vaguely in canon & lore doesn't matter, stupid people who love each other but never say it, are they dating or are they toeing the line of cohabitation in the middle of a hotel room?

sequel here

notes: oh gawsh hey guys... yeah yeah it's been forever since i posted but i giggled at all the requests i miss and then instead of doing those i wrote this, but TRUST i am getting back to all of you in a timely manner i love you all thank you so much for sticking with me, i'm coming out with a follower event once i hit 1k (soon) so be excited! love you guys and enjoy

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Dan Heng is an awful caretaker, really, and you should’ve known this because of his deadpan and often awkward nature. It just never really occurred to you until he’s truly saddled with taking care of a living, breathing thing—i.e., you, drunk and vomiting into a trash can after a spree through Belobog’s bars. 

In your defense, having no memories means having no experiences to your name (other than everything you’ve been through on the Express so far, which is maybe more near-death experiences than you’d like to have), and you heard that being drunk was just something everybody experiences at least once. 

Then, Pela texted you that one time asking for quick tips to sober up, and it dawned on you that you don't even know what that feels like, and then—who cares, really, you don’t have half a mind to think of your tragic pre-drunk backstory when you’re trying not to die of embarrassment as Dan Heng maneuvers you in a way that won’t get vomit on your clothes. 

The cold tiles of the Goethe Hotel en suite bathroom aren’t enough to bring you to full awareness, so you let Dan Heng ragdoll you into kneeling over the trash can and pull any dangling accessories away from your, um, line of fire. 

“Why would you guys let me do this?!” you wail in disbelief, trying to hold back a mouthful of bile but ultimately failing as you cough into the bin again. You’re truly betrayed at the thought that your closest friends wouldn’t warn you of things like alcohol poisoning, and pacing yourself, and how many drinks is too many drinks. 

“I didn't let you do anything,” your friend retorts, because he’s evil and mean and awful at comforting you, “I told you it would be a bad idea. You’re the one that still went out.” 

“Did I puke in front of everyone?” 

Dan Heng pauses, which is always a bad sign. It means he’s thinking, really thinking about what to say. “At the very least, you puked in the snow and not inside the restaurant.” 

A desperate wailing noise escapes you yet again. Life is cruel, and Dan Heng is crueler. He should’ve told a sweet little white lie and you would’ve been none the wiser and a lot less mortified. “Himeko laughed so hard when we found you that Welt had to make her leave.” 

“Just kill me,” you whisper into the trash can, full of your hopes and dreams and the remnants of your dinner and drinks. “I can’t go back to the Express. Execute me and give me a gentle death.” 

“No need to be dramatic,” he says, annunciating his words in that odd little way he does, and it makes you want to kiss him and read a dictionary to you, cover to cover. “You need to drink water, and then brush your teeth. I don’t trust you showering right now so you have to wait until the morning.” 

“Oh, Dan Heng,” you keen, with the grief of a spouse watching their partner go off to war, “you don’t even want to wash my hair for me?! You just think I’m— I’m a drunken slob!” 

“Be quiet,” he commands through his teeth, embarrassment warming him up—you can feel it, the way the tips of his fingers go a little bit warm from where they rest on your shoulder and the side of your face. “You— I don’t think that. You need to brush your teeth.” 

You definitely are not brushing your teeth tonight. You tell Dan Heng as much but he just rolls his eyes and compromises with a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash that he pulls from the cabinet under the sink. He’s so prepared. Or maybe that’s just the hotel staff. Regardless. 

You rinse your mouth out once you’re fine enough to let Dan Heng pull you up to your feet and rest you against the counter of the sink. He has to remind you multiple times to not swallow the mouthwash, and you bat at him childishly for thinking you’d ever do such a thing—except, you definitely would have drinken down an entire mouthful if he didn't say anything. You can’t bear to look at your reflection in the mirror. You just pray to whatever Aeon is listening that there’s no awful stains on your clothes, and that you don’t smell so terrible that Dan Heng goes running the minute he lets go of your arm. 

“Where’s March?” you whine out as he leads you from the bathroom to the main hotel room, trying to gently set you down on your bed but giving up once you immediately fall into it like an ungraceful rock. “She would be so much nicer. You’re mean. Do I smell bad?” 

“I’m not mean,” he tells you, sure of himself and the twist of his mouth as he avoids looking you right in the eyes. “You don’t smell. You need to go to bed. And lay on your side.” Petulantly, and not without some kicks of your legs and flails of your arms, you find yourself situated under the sheets of the hotel bed, sock somehow off your feet now as Dan Heng pulls the blankets right up to your shoulders. 

“I’m on my side now. Do I get a reward?”

“Why would you need a reward?” 

A disgruntled tsk escapes you and you look up at Dan Heng with an exasperated expression. It’s pitiful enough to guilt him into kneeling down beside your bed so that he’s at eye level with you. “Because I went through so much tonight,” you slur out, words starting to mix with each other as a result of your remaining drunkenness and the exhaustion of the night hitting you. “I’ll take a, um— a gold star, or something.” 

“I can give you a cup of water in the morning.” 

Another dreadful wail escapes you. You’ve never faced evil more potent than Dan Heng, and by the stupid twinge of a smile on his face, he knows what he’s doing. You hate how endearing he is, and how he dangles little treasures like this in front of you. You’re brought back to the heat of his fingers from earlier, the gentle touches he left on your shoulders as he let you puke your guts out without even flinching. As much as you joke, you know Dan Heng’s kindness comes from a lack of evil. Comes from a supporting weight against your arms, comes from travel-size mouthwash, comes from staying in your hotel room until you fall asleep and double-checking that you’re on your side. 

In the morning, you’ll take the cup of water, and you’ll take him out for breakfast, too.

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