#hi knives how has ur night been going

[yanverse]

conrad my beloved 🥹 he’s not gonna win against the sheer force that is harley chicken man in the polls but he’s still number one in my heart <3

i think he’s been too uwu lonely russian boy from a small village in his tag lately from ur og blog so i wanna know what he’s like when he snaps hehe

like how would he hunt down and punish a darling who’s been affectionately biding her time to escape when he’s out hunting? cause idk if he’d be as scary as ilya but i would welcome it 👀

want scary conrad? i can give you scary conrad.....<3

hunted -- conrad dmitriev

(cws: DDDNE, yandere, stalking, kidnapping, violence against reader, blood, injuries, guns/knives, cutting/scarring, implied somno/noncon, manipulation, death mentions)

word count: 2k

Not even the pitch of the settling dark could mask the eyes that follow you between the trees. 

These woods aren't for the faint of heart. Those who live here were born here, survived here, and will inevitably die here. Considering there's only been one–at least in recent memory–who has escaped that curse, it's clear to anyone with sight that this harrowing corner of the world is meant for only two things; locals and wildlife. 

And trees, of course. Enough to cluster in scattered array, leaving only tiny clearings in between in which to get your bearings, though you can never really stop moving in this cold. The snow isn't so much a hindrance as it is a hurdle; glaringly obstructive in the way caution tape would be around a bloody car crash. It should be circumvented with great caution by those who don't wish despair upon their own selves, yet here you are in the thick of it. Cold, wet, and completely, utterly lost. 

Conrad warned you of these dangers, but you ignored him. Why would you possibly take the advice of someone who betrayed you? His whole story was made up of lies–why he was conveniently in the area the night you came across each other, what exactly he had to do with your car that seemingly sprouted an issue from nowhere, and who he even was altogether. Course, you could've been a touch more scrutinizing…you can't exactly imagine, at least not easily, that a man who lives almost entirely alone in an isolated forest of the country could live comfortably with his sanity still intact. He isn't just an ice fisher that sells his produce to the near-zero visitors of this confusing wasteland. Conrad is a killer. A killer for hire, no less. 

And right now, unbeknownst to you, you're his next target….well, unknowingly until your footsteps halt in the knee-deep snow for a breather, and the softest click sounds right at the base of your skull. You don't need to turn your head to see. Nobody else would make it this far without leaving footprints in this awful snow. 

“Malyshka.” That word bleeds into you with every syllable, puffed hotly over the skin of your ear from behind. It stirs up memories, good ones for once, of that loving nickname uttered in laughter and scorn and a teasing lilt as Conrad takes you by the hand and waltzes you through his living room. The tinny scratchiness of his cheap, portable radio gave the cabin a hum that still resonates in your veins, but you can't go back to that world even if you wanted to. That place will forever be tainted with the memories of Conrad's twisted fascination with you, permanently marred by deceit and thinly-veiled manipulation. 

It doesn't seem like that matters at all to your former lover, however. Because when Conrad grips your arm in that deathly squeeze, you get the sense immediately that he's betting on taking you back. He's going to walk you through the snow right back where you came from, and he's going to be so angry he won't sleep for days. That's what you think.

The butt of his rifle cracking you in the skull isn't what you expected, however. The crunch of bone under the varnished chunk of wood sickens you to the core of your soul, a warmth exploding out from your hair and splattering the ground as you immediately collapse forward. Your dead weight sinks you deep into the snow, but even then, and even in your dazed state, you feel it's much shallower here than before. Maybe that's why Conrad waited to corner you here–maybe it will be easier to pile the snow on top of your body when he kills you in his rage. 

Time slows to a tick all of a sudden. Conrad's boots crunching in the snow around you ripples a series of shivers through you, your warm body growing colder by the minute as he circles you like a hungry predator. Shiiing, click, thummp. The sound of his gun being slung over his shoulder catches your focus, and then the distinct slice through the sheath as Conrad pulls out his knife. You know the one. That thing is big. And sharp. You cut your hand on it once accidentally and he just about lost his mind with worry. Doesn't seem like he's all too concerned about that now, though.

Although his voice carries between the whispers and howls of the wind, you couldn't understand him if you tried. You've lost the privilege of Conrad speaking your language, evidently, because while he is addressing you not a word of it is in English. It's just another way to control you…another way to show you his love, if he were to spin it that way. 

A beat of silence passes without note. He's stopped moving. You can feel him, his body heat, hovering over you from above. The knife is probably just dangling in his hand, wondering if he should drop it or bring your life to an end with force, grant you some kind of small mercy as he takes you apart before finally slitting your throat like a hunted animal. Conrad stands waiting, watching you lie motionless and dizzy in the snow, and even once you feel him sink to his knees on top of you there's no strength in you to move. Blood pools at the base of your neck from the gash he's probably left in your head. I'm going to die. Your own voice ringing from within triggers you into a push, your fingernails digging into hard, packed snow as you try to lift yourself up–but even though he doesn't hit you a second time, Conrad isn't gentle as he grips your neck and shoves you back down. 

“Still.” He quietly mumbles amid the harsh breeze whistling past your ears. “Stay, malyshka.” 

Clearly, he wanted an answer. Your silence is more than enough of one however, and with a swing and an arc of the blade your lover is rrrrrrripping your clothes apart, knife cutting cleanly up the back of the too-thin flannel that you stole in lieu of a proper coat. Through the layers underneath he slices with practiced ease, catching patches of skin with the tip but not allowing the beads of blood to distract him from his task. Your eyes dart sideways to see his gloved fingers carving out a lump of snow from near your head, a few trickles of blood from your wound staining the purity of those white, soft haloes. He raises it quick and your arms tense at the feeling of that sting hitting your bare back–but it isn't the blade first, it's that clump of snow dragging down your flesh…the knife comes straight after that, piercing your aching skin as insult to injury, and his deep, sudden strokes that split you apart have you writhing and kicking out on the ground in agony. 

Pure, violent hatred spills out of you in those moments, your screams echoing off the trees with just the same tremor as the howling, squealing winds blowing through the mountains. Conrad only cares for your pain when it impedes his progress, his knee coming down harshly on your lower back to keep you from squirming away as he makes his cuts. He must be trying to dig your organs out, he's killing you, he's surely tracing out your most valuable spots with such aggressive stabs of unconscionable, burning, violent torment. Will he wait for you to die? Will he make sure before he leaves? Will he drag your corpse back home with him, frozen and stiff, or will he leave you for the wolves and bears and god knows what else out in these woods? 

As your blood drains into the snow, those thoughts become less and less urgent. As your willpower fades into numbness, the cold pressing into your back grows from a sting into a shaking, fragile numbness that spreads outward. You must be dying now, you can only imagine that your body will give out at any moment if Conrad doesn't stop. It hasn't even occurred to you yet that he has stopped, not until you catch a peripheral glimpse of his black-cloaked hand cleaning the blade in the snow. It's your blood that trickles down the handle…and there's so much of it you're on the verge of losing all hope. There's only the tiniest, faintest glimmer left, and it's fading just as fast as your consciousness. 

“...Look how pretty you are now, malyshka.” 

Those words will haunt you into death, you're most certain. They're the last ones to linger in your ears as the whiteness grows dark, and your eyes flutter closed while the sound of a drip, drip, drip echoes your dreamless sleep…

Drip, drip, drip. 

You'd know the sound anywhere. It's easier to listen to without that wind howling in your ears, but it's going to be harder to locate. This time, when your eyes open within the warmth of a closed-in room, gratitude isn't the first thing you feel for surviving another night in this dense nightmare. 

It's pain. Hot, unbearable, searing pain, violating you in senses inconceivable as it crawls in waves down your back; violent, stiffening, and like a hot iron being pressed up and down and up and down on constant repeat. The warm air of the cabin isn't helping at all as it hits your marked flesh, it's only drawing further attention towards the dripping of something warm down your legs, but at the very least you can tell by the pillow you've drooled on that you're not laying on the open wounds. No, you've been left exposed, with the ache in your hips something you hadn't noticed before, and the weight that's shifted the bed alerts you that someone is tending them for you…and he's singing. Gently. Some lullaby in his native tongue, no doubt, as his hands move quietly and carefully up and down the flesh he ruined. 

“Pretty thing.” You can just barely catch a glimpse of him looming from behind, the din of the cabin shadowing the expression on his pale face. Conrad's muttering puts you off at once, but there's nothing you can do about it now. He meant to kill you, but he changed his mind. He took you back to the cabin to rest, and…make up for lost time, if the stickiness of your thighs is any indication. Maybe that mind will be changed again…and you can only hope it does, because whatever he carved into your back, it can't be out of love. No matter how much he's going to try to convince you it is. “You are hurt, love. You want whiskey?” 

What hurts more is that you can feel the smirk in his tone. He's having a laugh at you. You tried to run but I caught you. I'll always catch you. You can never hide from me. That's what he's probably thinking. 

“No…” Somehow, from some deep well of power within you, your voice forms in a trembling resistance to his strength. Conrad's hands covered in balm and fibres of gauze he's tying round you pause, if just for a moment, and in the relative silence with those drip, drip, drips in the background you find the rest of your voice. 

“...I want you dead.”

How laughable. Conrad doesn't laugh, he merely tuts at you–a disapproving parent scolding a young scoundrel. If you weren't so appallingly special to him, he might punish that rejection of his help with a slap or an elbow right into those throbbing wounds that spell out his name. Instead, he dips his head low, and lets his deep, rough whisper creep into your ear and make a home in the deepest pits of fear that reside in your pretty little head.

“Then you just try to kill me, malyshka.” 

[yensunflowers]

so i saw this post about how modern nhs would use his phone as a equivalent of a fan. and tricking people into thinking he's not listening when is. and i added my own 5 cents and now i have a drabble! unspecified modern au with nhs as wwx's and jc's problem radar because it's not the gusu trio if they don't get themselves into some problems! unedited + written late, i might expand this au later... maybe

He was a party soul, honestly. He loved going out and spending time with people, listening to music, dancing, and anything but spending time studying. And it was no surprise that Huaisang was now sitting on someone's couch, in someone's house, he didn't really know the owner– But a good party wasn't happening every day! 

"...nah, no, we'll deal with him quickly."

He was alone though, with only his phone to keep him company. But it wasn't a problem really, he hadn't checked his Instagram feed for an hour now, so he had plenty of things to waste time on. Until someone comes up to dance with him. 

"Are you sure?"

He sighed. It would be great if someone did... Despite all his love for social media and all, he didn't really want to spend this whole night just on his phone, listening to the party noises. 

"Obviously! Come on, he's just a fucking brat who thinks he's in power now. All bark but no fucking bite."

His finger stopped mid-scrolling, his attention caught by a photo posted by one of his friends. Eh, Jiang Cheng wasn't a person to post anything often, so it was a big occasion! He tapped the screen twice and quickly opened the comments section. 

"I don't know, he seems strong... he beat up two people at once."

He typed a short comment about the photo and how shocking it is to see him active at all, before closing off the app. Though, he was even more surprised to see that almost instantly he got a notification back. 

"But they were unprepared losers. I'll get the old man's people, get some knives or something and we will fucking deal with the fucker."

It took him no time to open direct messages with Jiang Cheng, seeing that he was online. He was bored, alright? And Jiang Cheng was the perfect person to text! Well, maybe because he was sometimes funny to tease... 

"...you want to kill him?"

He texted him about how he was at some boring party and had no one to dance with, he had no one else to bother in other words. As if Jiang Cheng cared, was the reply. 

"Nah, wouldn't risk jail because of trash like him. Just stab him to show who's actually in power and that's it. A warning, you know."

Nie Huaisang sighed heavily and clicked out of the app again. He stared at the screen for a moment and opened the camera instead. He posed to the camera, opting for the same, well known pose he had in most of his party photos. 

"I don't want to deal with his brother if anything serious happens to him, though." 

It took him a moment to actually make a good photo, good quality, and all in this party lighting, but he looked super cute! He opened Instagram again and posted the said picture. He couldn't be bothered with a good caption, so instead, he just put the first emoji he had in his recent ones and tapped "post". 

"Ha! As if he cares about this annoying orphan... He will thank us for dealing with him, watch it."

And then, he opened his direct messages with Jiang Cheng again. 

you: you better watch ur brother btw

jiang cheng: why

you: [pic]

The photo was showing two guys sitting near the couch Huaisang was occupying. If they were a little less obnoxious and not so fucking loud, maybe he wouldn't hear their full conversation and their plan would succeed, but, well! Maybe if they cared about their surroundings more. 

you: ive been listening to them talk for some time

you: and they might be out for wei-xiongs blood

you: this time literally 

jiang cheng: fuck

jiang cheng: what the fuck 

you: take care, you two

Nie Huaisang tapped out of the app and raised his eyes from the phone. His gaze lingered on the two men, talking loudly and drinking some random liquor he was sure wasn't even party sponsored until his phone screen went black.

Well, he should sit around for some more, maybe. Who knows what else he would accidentally hear? He pulled out his earphones. This is going to be a long, long night it seems.

[suguwu]

Bee ur lil god!knives stuff is making my brain go brr but esp those tags abt vash??? Like I’m imagining catching vash’s eye long before knives turns his to your little village…

How the legends say the Stampede walks among humans, selfishly and cruelly—against the wishes of his brother, benevolent and careful be the lord of the hunt, for the merciless Vash brings only death and destruction. How you never put much faith in legends, and let the stranger into your little home in the woods because you have always let strangers in, and because he needed help you could provide. How you allowed him to stay as long as he needs, put him to work caring for the home while you’re off collecting plants or at your apothecary in town, and grow steadily attached to his presence in your home—and your bed, soon enough.

How he leaves you in the night, and how you wake up blessed.

Your village adheres strictly to doctrine. They would not call you blessed. A blessing from the Stampede is not a blessing by any means, however much the wind brushes you like a lover’s caress, no matter how healing your very touch has become.

They have lost you. You are a child of the village, and he has stolen you away. Whatever remains cannot be sacred.

When the high priestess, therefore, pays your quaint little home a visit, they rejoice. She tells them of her dreams. The mighty lord of the hunt still considers them worthy enough to provide an offering despite their failings with you.

But when they bring every villager who meets the requirements—your age, your hair, your eyes—all are rejected. The elders rumble, hushed and frantic. The quiet threat of the Stampede is carried in on the wind, but they have their faith. You must be the one. The lord of the hunt, magnanimous be he, has not abandoned you as your village has. You must be truly adored.

Acolytes storm your cottage in the woods. They burn it to the ground, stained as it is with the Stampede’s presence. The trees shake, the wind howls; your struggling body is dragged from the blaze, helpless.

Your mother weeps when she is allowed a final visitation before they take you away, and you cannot tell if the tears are relief or mourning. Your father stares as if he witnesses a walking ghost. You have been bathed and perfumed, draped in silk and gold, a circlet of precious jewels upon your forehead. They have never seen you look so holy.

The acolytes bring you to the Great Temple far away from your home. It is vast and grand and well kept; you’ve never been before, though your pious grandmother made the trek once late in her life for prayer.

The door to your chamber remains locked and guarded at all times but you manage, in the final hour, to crack your window.

Through it the wind, weak and restless here in the temple, brings you a wildflower. Stubbornly you tuck it into your flimsy girdle with the other flowers you’ve been adorned with.

(The lord of the hunt’s invisible hand finds it first when he arrives. You cannot see him any more than the acolytes, but you feel the pressure; your mind is flooded with an oppressive enmity.

He plucks it from your waist and lets it fall to the ground, withered. For once the wind does not answer)

plu i am SHAKING oh my god what a TREAT to wake up to!!! and yes i couldn't help myself with the vash tags and those tags have served me so well by bringing me this absolute deliciousness!! those last few lines...i'm gnawing off my own arm.

[shiningdesignersreflections]

Lingwu: Flaming Tiger

Designer's Reflection: Flaming Tiger

Obtained: Blessed Blossoms hell event

Rarity: UR

Attribute: Blue/Cool

Awakened Suit: Leaping Tiger

Story - transcripts from Designer's Reflection

Chapter 1 - Know Someone

Chapter 2 - Rain

Chapter 3 - Flames of War

Chapter 4 - Revisit

Chapter 5 - Anecdotes

Story - summarized

Lingwu was born a white tiger in the mountains outside Yue Prefecture City. When he was a cub, he was attacked by a wolf and nearly died. Thankfully, a monk found him and took him in. For ten years, the two were inseparable. But when the monk died, the tiger was forced to retreat into the mountains, hiding from humans.

But he still did his best to help others, like how the monk helped him. He saved baby birds that fell from their nests, even if the mother birds pecked at him. He tried to help humans gather firewood, even if they threw knives at him. And one night, Lingwu protected a young flower from the heavy rains.

The flower was grateful and asked why Lingwu didn't go to help humans. It even said that once it got to know him, it wasn't scared. This inspired Lingwu to find a way to transform into a human and join the people of Yue Prefecture City.

As a human, he assisted the people in every way he could: carrying groceries, healing them... But when war found its way to the peaceful city, Lingwu was faced with difficult choices - he couldn't save everyone, no matter how hard he tried.

To make things worse, one of the people he helped just went back to battle and became so violent and unhinged that he murdered everyone he saw. Finally, he died from an arrow shot to the heart.

Conflicted, Lingwu left the city and traveled around Cloud. He hoped to learn more about right and wrong, how to help others without harm. But as much as he learned, he got no definitive answer.

He returned to Yue Prefecture City and found a dying man on the road. Lingwu tried to get medical help from the closest clinic, but the family turned him away. The man had broken into their home and attacked them, and they did not want to heal him in case he came back to hurt them again.

Finally, Lingwu was able to get help for the man. But upon remembering the war-crazed man from years ago, he made this man promise to be a better person, or he will be left for dead next time.

The man changed his ways immediately. He made amends best he could with the family's clinic, he donated to the poor, he visited the temple and devoted himself to improvement.

Nowadays, Lingwu watches over the city, sometimes visiting the temple, sometimes snacking on hawthorn balls. But he always strives to do the right thing.

Connections

-Lingwu visits several places in Cloud that we've been to in gacha events: Cloud Capital (New Beginings hell event), Zither River (the Flame Fox Reflection), and Lor River (Northern Melodies hell event).

-Besides our favorite tiger boy, one other person was deeply affected by Cloud War: Qingyue recounts how she lost her father in Moonset.

Fun Facts

-This suit premiered in the CN/TW server during the Year of the Tiger, in 2022. For us in the global server, we got it in 2023, the Year of the Rabbit.

-I'm not sure if this is the correct translation for the name, but "lingwu" can mean "to understand or comprehend." And Lingwu tries his hardest to understand the world, the difference between right and wrong, and how best to help others.

-The temple has a statue of Buddha. This is the first time Shining Nikki has made a direct reference to a religion or person from our world.

[spider-biter]

🌙 Late Afternoon Sun ☀️ - Marc Spector/reader

Summary: A brief glimpse into your life with former mercenary Marc Spector

Warnings: mentions of knives, mild talk of blood. You cut ur hand open on accident so!

A/N: im in the trenches so this might suck idk. btw POVs are so weird so if it’s a lil funky- I know- please lmk what you thought!!! I look at every like/reblog :) love u guys!

Rating: pure ache-inducing fluff. pls send help I’m so touch starved-

Marc Spector was a terrible cook.

Jake could somehow cook the most delicious, spicy, authentic Guatemalan food you have ever tasted. Steven could make every vegan dish under the sun. But Marc Spector could barely boil a hotdog. Which is why you were currently triple checking the oven to make sure it was on.

It was supposed to be a simple meal. Something with bell peppers, carrots, and maybe some ground beef if Steven let us. But so far it had been 20 minutes of pure chaos in our small kitchen.

Marc had just walked in from work, hearing the soft words of Elvis float through the flat. He gently set his keys down and smiled to himself. Even after the day he had at work he still got to come home to you. He wandered into the kitchen before sitting down on one of the barstools. Your back was turned to him double checking the recipe. You turned around before being surprised at seeing him.

“Marc! Holy shit, you almost made my heart stop!” ‘We seriously need to get him a fucking bell’ you thought. You swore you can hear Steven a mile away & hear Jake's curses down the hallway, but Marc somehow always snuck up on you.

“Now you know how I feel sweetheart” he joked, leaning on his chin. You rolled your eyes in response before going back to cutting vegetables.

“How was work?” To some, it was a bland question. But to Marc? After fighting his whole life, his whole childhood, to be asked such simple and mundane questions, and have someone care? It meant the world. So he smiled and started talking about his simple day job. It wasn’t anything super fun or amazing, just helping with INTERPOL data across Europe & risk assessments, but such a simple life was what he wanted.

You both talked about life, simple parts of your days. You listened to him talk about the trip he’s going on in 2 weeks to bust some Polish drug ring, and he listened to you rant about some random work drama. It was nice.

Until you sliced your fucking hand open.

“Shit” you softly uttered, setting down the knife. Marc stopped mid-sentence and quickly got up.

“Hey hey hey, it’s gonna be ok, grab a towel and apply pressure,” he held your shoulders as you pressed the towel against the wound. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches or anything, and it didn’t hurt super bad. But still, slicing your hand open was not what you felt like doing today.

“Ok, once the bleeding has stopped we’re gonna rinse it out, alright? No soap or anything, just water,” he explained, putting the vegetables away. You of course laughed, before reminding him that you weren’t 7.

To which he replied “I know but I gotta make sure my girl is alright,” before going and grabbing the first aide kit. You rolled your eyes smiling as you rinsed your wound out.

He came back in and guided you over to the bare stool before taking your hand. “At least I won’t complain about your bandaging technique” you smiled. Marc always had a critique when it came to how you wrapped up his knuckles after a night. Of course, it was all in good fun but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in return.

“Hush or I’ll use alcohol instead of Hydrogen peroxide.” He smirked. You and him sat like that for maybe 5 minutes. Softly quipping back and forth, he tenderly addressed your cut.

Marc softly wrapped the gauze around your palm, securing it in place with some weird medical magic. He then turned your hand over and brought it up to his lips, before softly kissing it. “So romantic,” you blushed.

“And it’s nothing less than what you deserve,” His eyes danced with mischief before standing up, still holding your hand gently. You stood up as well before pulling him into a hug. A feeling of just love and utter devotion swept through you the moment he softly kissed your hand.

‘This man deserves nothing less than the world’ you thought, ‘and I’ll give him exactly that’ You tried your hardest to communicate that with the hug, hoping he understood.

What you didn’t know was that, while Marc wasn’t normally as much of a touch lover as Jake or Steven, he could still tell that this hug was simply filled with raw, pure, love. His dad was never the type to give him a hug, it was just something they never did. Especially around his mom. The last hug he probably ever got was from Layla, before the whole Egyptian god thing.

So he stood stunned for a second before gently hugging back. You smiled and leaned into the nape of his neck. It felt like a cosmic want, to be as close to him as possible. And so we stood there for what felt like an eternity of bliss.

You pulled away and lightly held his forearms and stared into his eyes.

“Marc Spector. I love you so so so much. I am the luckiest person in the world to have found you. You are loveable. You are loved by me.”

Your hand moved to softly cradle his cheek and wipe away a stray tear. His eyes were watering and his brow had an adorable crease in the middle.

“I love you in every way that I know how. You are more than enough. You are my universe”

You finished and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and in that moment, in every universe, you fell in love 100 times over.

When you finally broke for air, you leaned together, foreheads touching. His thumbs rubbed circles over your hands, careful not to disturb the gauze. And you stood, in the middle of the cozy flat. The late afternoon sun casts a soft hue over everything, emulating the warmth in your heart. ‘This is our home. They are my home.’ you thought.

He pulled back before hooking his hands around your hips, his eyes still staring into yours.

“I love you. I know it’s not the most romantic way to say it, but I would relive every single part of my life 100 times over, if it meant I still get to see you every time I wake up”

Your brain quickly floundered. Marc had told you about his past. About Wendy. About Randall. About his alcoholism. And he said he would do it all 100 times over??? Just for you?? You were damn near speechless.

‘Holy shit. I think I just fell in love all over again.’ You thought before giving him a watery smile. “Even if I wake you up early?” You laughed.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes. Even if you wake me up despicably early.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. In actuality, your heart was on fire for this man. You’ve never felt so much love and happiness in your life. He let out a soft chuckle before leaning in for a kiss. Right as you were about to too, the oven beeped.

“Oh shit! The peppers!” You quickly left his soft hold and grabbed the oven mitt. Taking out your peppers you turned and saw Marc looking at you like you kicked a puppy.

“What? I couldn’t forget my peppers!” You said innocently as you turned the oven off. The peppers in question were burnt beyond saving.

“You are so going to pay for that,” Marc smirked from across the island

You were almost tempted to play dumb, but the look in his eyes was obvious.

“Mhmm yeah definitely, but is that gonna be before or after we eat plain charred bell peppers for dinner?” You said sarcastically motioning to the empty counter.

He simply shrugged before walking around and saying “I guess that depends on how long the delivery guy takes.” He said fake innocently.

Your hands went to his shoulders, peppers long forgotten. “Or we could just ask them to drop it at the door, no interruptions required…” You whispered softly in his ear.

Something in his eyes shifted before you felt yourself being picked up bridal style and carried to the bedroom. “Put me down, Marc!!” You laughed tightening your grip around his neck.

“We still have to place the order!” You joked as he made his way through the flat. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you as we walked through the flat. “Good lord, are you trying to make me beg for it?” He playfully raised his eyebrow.

“Maaaaybe,” You said barely containing your smile and looking away.

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “If anything-“

“Marc!” You laughed, “Before you finish that sentence I need to remind you that we are both fully clothed. And that’s a problem that needs to be solved.” He looked down at you before gently setting you down on the bed.

“A problem? Whatever will we do about that?” He smiled as the door clicked shut.

Let’s just thank the lord that UberEats still delivers at 3 am.

[fernweh-writes]

HI OMG I LOVEEE UR WRITING!! i was hoping i could request maybe a slashers w a s/o who loves horror, or just creepy or darker stuff in general? i feel like y/ns are always suuuper like dainty lmao, i feel like some slashers would prefer someone like that

Thank you so much, I’m always glad to hear people like my writing! And I don’t mean to be rude but most people write y/n’s the way they view themselves. Like I would say I view myself as “dainty” and feminine and you could probably see that in some of my writing. However, I do try and write for a wide range of people with my HC’s so that anyone can imagine them. I like for everyone to feel included in the content I create. Since slashers are fictional, we can make them do anything we want and pretend they would love all of us cause at the end of the day we are all very sexy and irresistible.

P.S. sorry this took so long to write i’ve been on a bit of a hiatus

-Fern🌿

S/O Who’s Into Horror

Michael Myers

Michael would be glad that you weren’t bothered by a little bit of blood and gore. He has never been worried about keeping his kills clean, so it’s common for him to come home covered in dirt and blood. Luckily, you’ve never seemed to be deterred by it, so he gets to come inside to change rather than stripping out of his soiled clothing as soon as he steps foot in the door.

This also means you’ve never hesitated to clean said clothes. Michael has never worried much about being hygienic before you came along, so wearing clothes covered in dirt and blood certainly wouldn’t bother him. Still, he’s grateful for it and appreciates you doing things for him.

One night, Michael decides to finally sit down with you and watch whatever movie that you’re watching. Safe to say, he’s pretty intrigued by the genre. You’re telling him people enjoy watching other people get sliced open or possessed? And that you’re one of those people? Sure, it’s all fake but he’s still pretty curious as to why people enjoy being scared.

Blood kink? Knife kink? He’s certainly not going to be upset about it.

Bo Sinclair

Bo is not a fan of horror movies but he doesn’t hate them either. I guess you could say that he’s pretty much indifferent towards them. If you’re watching one of them he will join you without complaint but don’t expect him to be very invested. He’s definitely more of an action and western sort of guy.

With that being said it makes Bo wonder why you enjoy the horror genre so much. Any sort of blood, gore, and supernatural seems to have you absolutely enthralled. There’s definitely going to be a lot of teasing on his part in order to get you to explain your obsession.

Bo would be the one to put you in a somewhat dangerous situation just to see how deep that darker part of you runs. Of course, he wouldn’t put you at risk of any serious harm. Besides if he truly believed you were in any serious danger he wouldn’t hesitate to intervene.

Vincent Sinclair

Vinny definitely has a love for horror himself. The darker things in life have always intrigued him, making people in the town thinking he was a strange child. His parents hated that about him considering people already were on edge because of Vincent’s face. It just gave people another reason to mumble and whisper about him.

Offers you strange little gifts as a way of showing affection to you. This includes things like animal bones and fancy little knives. We’ve all seen the twin knives Vinny has, he would definitely gift you something just as cool as those two, if not better.

Vincent enjoys horror movies more than Bo as well. Although watching TV isn’t his ideal way of passing time he still enjoys watching movies with you from time to time. It’s a good way for him to relax and spend time with you at the same time and he loves that.

Brahms Heelshire

Enjoying horror is a good thing in this instance otherwise Brahms is going to scare the living shit out of you. A possessed doll is enough to freak out the majority of people but luckily, you find it somewhat exciting.

Brahms will definitely be kinder to you as well seeing as you respond well to him moving the doll around and even occasionally talking. When he finally reveals himself to you it doesn’t take long for you to put the pieces together and figure out the true story.

He would be more than happy to indulge your interest in horror. Although he’s more into romance and classics he would happily show you all of the horror books in his library. However, expect him to have you read them out loud to him. He may not enjoy the stories themselves but he does enjoy listening to you talk.

Also might scare you on purpose from time to time. After all, his parents did warn you that he likes to play tricks on people.

Thomas Hewitt

If you didn’t have a love of horror you wouldn’t be able to survive in the Hewitt household. Thomas is only one person and Hoyt isn’t much help so it’s not uncommon for people to escape the basement in…mangled conditions.

You’re often responsible for cleaning up any messes outside of the basement as well. Poor Luda Mae simply can’t stomach it and no other man in the house is going to do it. Unfortunately you’ll have to become well accustomed to blood and gore.

Thomas appreciates that tough edge that you have to you. Surviving with the Hewitts isn’t an easy task and surely isn’t for the feint of heart. Besides, he’s glad that he doesn’t scare you off by doing what he has to in order to keep his family alive.

Billy and Stu

I’m combining these two since they kind of go hand in hand

Both of them originally bonded over their love of horror and they do the same with you. Horror movies is what made them realize they both were a little insane had a darker edge to them than most people.

They’re obsessed with your different takes on horror movies, theories, supernatural, and paranormal. They could listen to you go on about different theories for hours. If you’re a very observant person they also enjoy when you notice little details in movies that they might not have noticed before or didn’t pay much attention to.

Expect them to try and drag you into their little extracurricular activity if they think you would be willing. If they offer, you’re obligated to accept.

Jesse Cromeans

We all know that Jesse loves gore and horror, however it’s not a side of himself he enjoys showing off to you. In fact, he works hard to keep you from finding out about his “business trips” because he’s worried about scaring you off.

Usually the scariest part of Jesse you ever get to see is within the bedroom. He has a strong desire for dominating his partner and after said business trips he usually comes home with a lot of pent up energy you just chalk up to being because the two of you were apart for so long.

Once Jesse discovers just how deep your love of horror runs and believes you can stomach the truth, he’ll let you in on his little secret. He would never let you actually witness what he does but he will start bringing you along with him on business trips so that the two of you won’t have to be apart from each other so often.

Asa Emory

Your love for horror draws him in, it makes you interesting. We all know that Asa sees blood and gore not as disturbing, but rather a very twisted form of art. So he wonders why anything related to horror piques your interest so much

Of course, Asa also likes to observe and study his specimen. He’ll often watch you as you watch true crime, paranormal documentaries, etc to try and figure you out.

He’ll most definitely put you to the test by taking you to his hotel. If he has time he might even set traps all through out your house and observe you as you live out your own real life horror movie.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hey! Adore ur fics and one shots ur so creative with what u write❤️ I was just wondering if there would be a part 2 to the piece abt nesta having wings and azriel finding out? I loved that one with nyx being a pain in the arse 🥰

Hello! Here is a little part two with Azriel training Nesta.

True to his word, the shadow singer kept Nesta’s secret. Not a word of it had been breathed to anybody. And Nesta had to hope that her nephew wouldn’t remember the moment either. The only time that Azriel had dared to mention it was when Nesta struggled to reach an item off the top shelf in the kitchen. He’d leaned in – ever the gallant male to help – and murmured that it would be far easier for her if she had wings.

‘I’m spending some time with Azriel tomorrow,’ Nesta said casually.

Not casual enough. Cassian prised himself away from sharpening his knives to blink at her.

‘My Azriel?’

‘I hadn’t known he was yours,’ she teased. ‘Yes. He’s your brother. I don’t know him nearly well enough.’

The lie wasn’t good enough. It was flimsy at best. If Cassian wanted to invite himself, they could hardly say no – then they’d have to make up a reason why they were spending time together.

To Nesta’s surprise, Cassian gave a knowing smile then turned back to his weapons. ‘This has nothing to do with my birthday, I’m sure.’

Oops. ‘No,’ Nesta scoffed, doing her best to look as if she were lying. Using his birthday as an excuse was a much better plan.

When the morning came, he kept lingering around the house, dropping hints of things he wanted or needed or what he wanted to do when his birthday came around, and Nesta had to nod along to it all. It wasn’t a lie when she said, ‘We aren’t meeting to plan your birthday.’

It was a relief when Azriel whisked her away with shadow. They landed in a soft meadow somewhere in the south the of the Night Court with only spongey grass and wildflowers for company. There were a few trees too, spilling with lush canopies that offered some shade from the bright morning.  

‘Get them out then.’

Nesta covered her chest with her hands, feigning shock. ‘I’ll tell Cassian you said that.’

He snorted with faint amusement. ‘Wings.’

Nesta had to strip down to only a vest on top to release her wings. Azriel watched with fascination as Nesta searched for the thread in her mind and tightened it, feeling the familiar itch and tingle run down her spine as they emerged. She stretched them out before letting them settle.

The shadow singer circled her, admiring them.

Finally, he said, ‘They’re so beautiful. Why would you hide them away?’

‘I should show them off? To be more of a freak than I already am.’

His stone-carved face yielded nothing. ‘Is that what you think you are, Nesta?’

They fluttered of their own accord as a light wind whispered through the meadow. In the times that Nesta was able to examine them in a mirror, they had grown on her. They were pretty things. She had never seen another fae with them.

‘I’ll stand out even more. Different. Other.’

Azriel shook his head. ‘You don’t know how special you are.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Enough chat. See the tree there. I want you to fly there and back.’

Nesta ran through his initial drills easily. Flight was more difficult in the open; she had to angle her body differently to combat the direction of the wind. Still, she had gone to the tree and back like he requested multiple times, floated up and down on command or left and right. She felt quite pleased with herself until Azriel folded his arms.

‘You’re so slow.’

‘What? I did everything you asked.’

Azriel chuckled. ‘Yes, as if you were taking a casual stroll. There was no urgency. It takes you about eight seconds to land.’ His eyes were bright with challenge. ‘Race me.’

Their first attempt did not go well. The gusts of wind from his massive wings, prevented her own wings from taking flight. He even relented and let her have a head start the next time. Not that it made any difference, Azriel was soon overtaking her. Each time, Nesta’s blood pounded at being chased. It wasn’t making her any quicker.

‘I’ll give you a ten seconds head start.’

‘That’s insulting,’ she argued.

Azriel shrugged. ‘Fly quicker then.’

As Nesta flew, she heard Azriel counting down. Each number made her heart beat faster. The tree was almost in reaching distance. When he bellowed a zero, she felt the change in the wind as he started streaking through the distance between them. She let out a scream like when Elain used to chase her up the stairs in their old house.

In her attempts to reach the tree and land quicker, she pulled her wings up, letting them snap together.

She crashed to the meadow in a heap, inches from the tree, with a mouthful of grass.

‘What was that landing?’ Azriel’s careful composure slipped as he laughed.

‘I beat you,’ she protested, gingerly sitting up.

Azriel’s eyes flitted to the tree that hadn’t been touched. His hand quickly scraped against the bark. ‘I win. That was better. I think I just need to chase you to make you fly quicker.’

Each time they tried, Nesta couldn’t help but let out a shriek the second she knew Azriel was swooping after her. And the landings. They were getting worse. It was a toss up between speed and safety. Nesta was lucky that Azriel had picked a soft meadow for her to crash head-first into rather than rocks, but her body was still aching and bruised from the number of falls she had had.

They changed tact. Azriel would block her path and Nesta had to try and fly past him. It turned out, she was very good at it – once she’d overcome her fear. Her agility was better than his; her wings were smaller, able to veer in a different direction quicker. However, Nesta had been afraid that they wouldn’t change quick enough and she’d collide with him. It meant she changed direction too early, giving Azriel that split-second advantage to move into her way again.

‘Trust your wings. Stop overriding the instinct.’  

They stopped for a snack with Azriel examining her wings again as he ate an apple. In the sunlight, they shimmered. ‘Your back doesn’t hurt?’

Nesta shook her head. ‘They’re not heavy. They're not tired yet either. I don’t even have much feeling in them except where they join my back. The underside is a little ticklish.’

The two sets spread out behind her in the sun, as if happy to soak up as many rays as possible while given the opportunity.

‘I know you’re not Illyrian, but amongst their kind, it is considered inappropriate to touch someone’s wings without permission. Especially females. Would I be able to touch yours – to feel the differences?’

Their kind. Not his.

‘Treat yourself,’ she said, leaning forwards so they were on full display.   

Azriel brushed his knuckles against the delicate system of veins, marvelling at the burgundies and pinks on the forewings, before trailing lower to the hindwings where the colours turned more indigo and silver. She felt him touch the velvety, thicker frame, following its path towards her spine.

‘They’re unlike anything I’ve seen before.’

The shadow singer was quiet for a moment, eyes still glazing over her wings. It did not make Nesta feel as if she was under an inspection; it was more admiration than anything.

‘I’ve been trying to train you like an Illyrian. But these aren’t Illyrian wings. They’re built differently. I wouldn’t be able to fly in the house like you did, my wings are too big, too powerful.’

‘Show off.’

‘Can you hover on the spot?’

Nesta rose to her feet with a groan then let her wings lift her a foot off the floor. She floated a little higher or slightly to the left, but mostly she maintained her position in the air.

Azriel stood too, lifting his head to look up at her. He raised a hand, holding it near her wings as she fluttered.

‘There’s barely any wind created. They’re narrow. Light. Able to tuck in.’ Again, he circled Nesta, murmuring the odd comment to himself. ‘Will you try and land on top of that tree?’

With Azriel’s reassurances that he’d save her if she fell from that height, they flew together. He suggested that she fly in a zig-zag motion, skimming through the draughts of air that his own wings created – she kept pace with him that way.

Her feet rested against the canopy, her wings holding her steady with their gentle fluttering.

‘You’re not a bat,’ Azriel said, watching as Nesta became more daring and started walking across the tree top with her wings balancing and keeping her up. ‘You’re a butterfly, Nesta.’

Hours had run away from them. The only pains in her body came from all of her crash landings – which Azriel promised they would work on next time, after he’d examined butterflies’ flight. Nesta was almost sad to say goodbye to her wings that day as she shifted them back into her body.

‘There is merit to keeping them a secret,’ Azriel said. ‘It gives you an element of surprise. But I don’t think you should hide them from Cassian.’

‘It’s a bit late now to tell him I have wings.’

Azriel hummed. ‘This could be his birthday present. You and him flying together. He won’t be angry that you’ve hidden it. He loves flying. More than anybody I know. Just… think on it.’

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vi)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: BUCKY BARNES IS BACK AND HAS A CONFIRMED PERSONALITY 

also omg everyone who’s been sending me ideas- ur the lomls. 

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Your place or mine? ;)

He stares at the text.

The right answer is mine. See you at the lair.

“Y’all are dating now?” Clint peeks over his shoulder. 

“Fuck no,” Bucky says indignantly. “God forbid.”

“Okay, man,” he retracts, giving Bucky space to turn around and face him. “What do you want to call your mini dates then?”

“Missions,” Bucky corrects him.

“No one wants to go on a mission. You volunteered to go back there.” 

“It’s for the good of the tristate area.” 

“I bet.” The snort he lets out contradicts his words. “Whole world is depending on you, Barnes. Go save them from the treachery of your crush.”

“Enemy.”

“Girlfriend.”

“Mortal nemesis.” Bucky narrows his eyes at him. “Go further, I dare you.”

“What are you gonna do? Choke me? Punch me with your metal arm?” Clint cranes his neck. “Bring it, big boy. I’m not scared of some kinky shit.”

He hates living here. 

The door is left open for him. 

This time, even though the lair is still illuminated by the green light out in the front, there’s a minor change. Sunlight streams in through a skylight in the roof. 

There’s a ladder there, leaning against the rim. It gives him an entrance to the roof, which, judging by the lack of any other presence in the lab, is where he’s supposed to go.

As he gets closer he notices there’s a note on one of the rungs.

‘Evil’ with an arrow pointing upwards.

He rolls his eyes, discarding it on the floor before swiftly scaling the steps.

“Ah, Mr. Barnes,” he hears your voice call out even before his head pops up above the surface. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

He pauses, looking around. “Who’s with you?”

Because other than the gigantic machine pointed up towards the sky, there’s only you with a visor and sunglasses. The  best way he can describe its design was that it was shaped like a pine cone, had a large antenna pointed towards the sky, two handlebars near its base to manoeuvre it with a large button in between them. 

“Just imagine I have my henchmen with me,” you urge. “I’m on a budget, man, I can’t afford them yet. Maybe when my cloning machine finally works-”

He doesn’t answer.

“It’s a James Bond reference,” you add when he doesn’t show any signs of answering. 

“Haven’t watched it yet.” Bucky shrugs. “We’re doing Star Trek right now.”

“You’re done with Star Wars?” you, receiving a nod in confirmation. “Nice. You’d find the spy shit ridiculous anyway, it’s way below your level.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He makes a mental note to add the Bond movies to the list. 

“Speaking of stars,” you begin, gesturing to the machine. “I’m going to harness the power of the sun.”

“For what?” He doesn’t bother asking how, he already knows you’ve figured out something. 

“There’s a science exhibition and my team’s stupid solar car experiment isn’t working and I need it for them to win.” 

“So build a better one.” 

“No, ours is the best and if Jeff and his stupid baking soda volcano beat us then we’re going to have a murder on our hands.”

“Your hands,” he emphasises. He has nothing to do with this.

“I said what I said, boy.” You glare at him. “This is our problem now.”

“How much power are you taking?” If it’s insignificant enough, it wouldn’t matter much. He thinks. 

“The whole thing.”

He laughs. He stops when you don’t.

“You’re taking all the energy of the sun to power your shitty science model.”

“Your face is a shitty science model,” you mimic him in a higher pitched voice. “I will do anything to win.”

He wonders which grade kid you stole that insult from was in. There’s no way they were anything older than 13. He could use it on Steve, maybe.

“Everyone on Earth will die.” He feels the need to remind you, even though there was no way it was actually going to take place. Eat shit, Clint. This superseded the tristate area.

“Not for eight minutes.” You look at your watch. “And, if Jeff dies then I win by default.”

“You’ll die too,” he points out. 

“I’ll die a winner.” You nod seriously as if that makes it better. 

He’s not that worried. Experience tells him that you’re not a mass murderer willingly. 

“You’ll die an idiot.” 

“Only if you don’t stop me.” Your lips curve into a smile. “And how will you when I do this?”

You yank the machine to point towards him and slam the button. His hand reflectively pulls in front of him to defend himself. Something hits him with enough force to send him skidding backwards slightly. 

He removes his hand carefully from in front of him, looking at you. 

Something feels off.

“You just-”

The knives strapped to his thighs suddenly feel heavier.

“Took your powers?” you finish his thought. “Yeah.”

He feels his body tip towards his left. He’s suddenly very aware of the weight of the arm. Had it been this heavy all this while? 

“You’ve barely changed,” you noted, “You’re just regular Bucky but like, 20% less beef.”

After all, he was a boxer when he was a teen. One of the best men the Howling Commandos had even before the serum.

His shoulder feels heavier though. And somehow he thinks he’s sensing things a little less. He can’t really hear the faint buzzing of the generator downstairs anymore.

“Yep, that’s real muscle.” He turns when you poke at his shoulder. He doesn’t know when you got there. “You’re like a modern day Schwarzenegger. Grade A beefcake.”

He can’t see the construction site near the horizon as clearly as he used to. 

Something about this situation makes him feel like he’s going to have a midlife crisis, even though he’s overshot the age by a huge number. No one has a midlife crisis at 106. 

“Now that we’ve established that this works,” you say, back near the machine again. When did you walk there? “Let’s show this bitch that I’m the brightest star allowed in this solar system.” 

He shakes his head to jolt himself awake, shoves aside his mental dysfunction and breaks out into a sprint when you pull the device down to aim it at the sky. 

He latches onto the side, using his left hand to pull himself up, straddling the machine.

“Excuse me,” you exclaim like it’s a minor inconvenience and he feels the machine sway wildly under him. “You’re weighing it down, get off my inator.”  

You’re shooting recklessly, trying to shake him off. It’s not dissimilar to the mechanical bull Natasha made him ride during a mission down south so she could win money off placing bets on him. They had lobster that night.

He reaches down to its side, hoping to feel maybe a panel he can rip off. He finds nothing.  

He hopes none of the rays are actually hitting anything. It’s a little harder to stay on than he’d imagined it would be, and he thinks that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. 

He changes his mind in a split second, swinging himself over so that he can climb the underside of the machine like a monkey bar. He feels like a fucking insect. How was Peter not mortally embarrassed? 

He factors in the fact that his hands are getting clammier and his grip is slipping faster than usual. Also, he can taste his lunch at the back of his throat.

“Motherfucker,” Bucky curses when his hand slips, leaving him to hold on only by his metal arm. 

“You okay?” you call out, not giving him a second to recover unless he really needed it.

He lets out a grunt, swinging his arm up and catching hold of the antenna, yanking it down and towards the machine itself. He pulls himself up so that he’s straddling the machine again. 

One more shot and-

“Very smart, Barnes,” you say dryly, letting go of the handles. 

He sends you a sly grin before sliding down the barrel, kicking the large button with his heel right before he jumps off. 

The beam shoots out, instantly meeting with metal. The device automatically gives a mechanical groan before powering down, turning off altogether. 

“I hate you,” you huff, before noting his paleness. “D’you want some water? An IV maybe?”

He dismisses it with a wave of his hand, inhaling heavily to catch his breath.

He’s tired, more so than he would have been under any normal circumstance. He feels a little dizzy, a little disoriented. 

“Don’t worry, your magic powers will be back in a few minutes or so.” You examine the bent antenna, pressing the button and sighing when it stands there lifelessly. “Once Jeff wins, I’ll send the dry cleaning receipt to you. You can pay to get the tear stains out of the kids’ outfits.”

“Your tears or theirs?” He’s relieved about the powers returning, he thinks.

“Both, bitch.” Your eyebrow quirks at his retort. Clearly, he had more energy in him than people realised; his brain seemed to be working fine. He was stronger than you thought. Good for him. 

“You’re smart. You’ll figure something out.” He lets out a final exhale before standing up a little straighter. 

“Thanks. It’d be better if you asked your billionaire tech genius to send us something, but okay.”

“It’s a middle school science exhibition. Make a potato battery or something.”

You tsk-tsk. “No points for creativity, Mr. Barnes.”

It creeps into his mind without warning. He wonders if he actually wanted the powers back. Wonders what his life could be if he maybe retired, settled down. For the brief time he feels like his pre-war self, he starts to think like his pre-war self.

“I’m not the one who’s about to lose to a baking soda volcano,” he finds time to respond, however. 

“Your face is a baking soda volcano.” You narrow your eyes at him. “I will not lose.”

“You’re running out of time. Chop chop.”

But the thought hits him. Who is Bucky without his super soldier serum? If he doesn’t have his powers then he can’t think of what use he is to the Avengers.

Who the hell is Bucky if he can’t provide a service to others? How else does he make up for being himself?

His, what he’s now deemed, afterlife crisis is starting to look more apparent.

He compartmentalises and stores it away in a box. He’ll bring it up with his therapist later. 

“I’m going to win and then you’ll be sorry you weren’t a part of it because you didn’t let me steal the sun.” 

“If you win, I’ll still be glad I didn’t let you.” He climbs back down the ladder, feeling the ache in his muscles reduce with every passing minute. 

True to your word, his powers do return a while later. 

And while he’s watching Avatar: The Last Airbender with Peter in the living room two days later, his phone beeps with a text. 

It’s a picture of a blue first place ribbon next to a toy car that looks like it’s powered by a potato battery. Beside it is an out of focus middle finger that is aimed at him. 

Congratulations, he texts back. Told you potato batteries always win.

Your face always wins, he receives in return. He can’t tell if you’re insulting or flirting with him. 

He just shuts his phone off and goes back to watching the show. 

Next part

[tibby]

if u want to could u write abt ur thoughts on amanda and hoffman’s relationship in the jigsquad verse 👉👈 i love this au sooo much thank u for providing the best content

hoffman and amanda's relationship is...complicated. i often wonder what it could have been like in canon if john hadn't fostered such a toxic environment and pitted them against each other. they do have things in common and i think they also had a capacity to work well together - bathroom trap, nerve gas house, and the night of lynn/jeff/eric/rigg's tests all happened AFTER john took them both under his wing. ik hoffman sets amanda up to die the night of the latter but the fact remains they had MULTIPLE games set up in the same building and i doubt john would have been able to do much. hell, even when they're fighting while fixing up the rack, there's still like...a weird sense of them being in sync. amanda's brains and hoffman's brawn and when they're not at each other's throats they make a hell of a team.

so. taking that into consideration and placing them in the jigsquad verse, where they are able to form a relationship despite john's interference...they're very much like a brother and sister. they're always about 0.5 seconds away from killing each other and they'd both rather die than admit than they care for one another, but they do. jigsquad mark is able to retain his humanity and because of this, he sort of grows to see amanda as...a surrogate little sister to make up for the sister he lost. and amanda will never be angelina, both as a person and as a piece of mark's life, but it's something. and for amanda...i think generally speaking she distrusts men due to past experiences and it takes her the longest to warm up to mark because a) he is an asshole to her b) he was her ~rival~ for john's attention c) he's a cop. BUT. once they've gotten to a point where she realises he cares about her and won't actually hurt her...it's nice to have that weird big brother presence in her life.

john's death plays out very differently in jigsquad and since mandy lives through that night and he doesn't, the ramifications are also very different. the games continue in part because john implies that if the apprentices don't carry on his ~legacy~ then there's contingency plans in place for them, but also because amanda sort of. needs to process her shit with john and what he did to her in her own way, and that does mean continuing his work. which. isn't the healthiest coping mechanism but the guys realise she's going to do it with or without them and at least if they're with her, she'll be safer. and mark is a lot more willing to let her take control of everything and has no desire to kill her for power or whatever.

but yeah. they still fight all the goddamn time but they're not trying to like, Actually Hurt each other and aren't praying for one another's downfall. they're just. an older brother and a younger sister who aren't related and also know each other because they murder together.

here are some headcanons i have:

as the two resident former addicts of the group they keep an eye on each other because they know the signs (even if they do claim it's because they can't have the other relapsing and fucking up their whole operation)

amanda is a vegetarian and hoffman, the designated chef of the group, cooks vegetarian meals for her. sometimes he'll make a whole separate dish just so that she has something to eat.

she steals something for him (idk what hoffman would like for gifts. knives? keychains? pasta?) on the anniversary of his sister's death because she knows how sad he gets about it but also doesn't know how to deal with it. and she's like. ugh. here. *shoves it in his hands and then watches movies with him all day while neither of them acknowledge why she did it*

unsurprisingly a lot of people at the station don't really get hoffman's choice in friends and are kind of assholes about it. once a narcotics detective once referred to amanda as "a drugged up psycho" to hoffman's face and he punched the cop in the nose for it. this was separate to the punching strahm incident and was outside of work so nobody knew about it. which like....anonymous brutality is sort of the way mark cares.

sometimes he carries her (and adam) around on his broad ass shoulders. sometimes she sits on his back while he does push ups.

he steals her cigarettes and she'd get mad about it but she keeps stealing his zippo lighters. so they're even.

this will probably make more sense when i finish (and for that matter, start) my The Night of III/IV According to Jigsquad Verse fic in five million years but. in the aftermath when john is dead and they're all reeling from that and amanda is recovering from being shot in the neck and hoffman can't really check in on them because that'll be suspicious...he does what he can by telling strahm (and perez) to back the fuck off and leave amanda alone. she's nothing more than a person of interest and they have no proof she worked for john but hoffman knows they suspect her. and he also knows the last thing amanda needs right now while she's badly injured and processing john's death is to be harassed by the fbi. so. yeah. he makes sure to keep them away for her for as long as she possibly can.

similarly. hoffman asking john why amanda has to be in the nerve gas house has less to do with him not understanding the rules or whatever. and more to do with him wondering why the fuck john is okay with putting amanda in a dangerous situation, even if she's ~fine~ with it. he's very out of touch with his feelings and doesn't even realise he's doing it out of concern but. he is!

this one also features adam but on nights when there's no trap business to attend to and lawrence is working his real person job and the three of them are "banned" from "testing traps in the living room" and "treating them like toys" because they "keep getting blood on the carpet" they all just sort of. bake edibles together and paint each other's nails (hoffman always says that if he's being forced to do this then he wants black manly nails but amanda always ignores this and paints them something sparkly that diana left behind the last time lawrence had a custody weekend) and revel in each other's weirdness and smoke cigarettes. they play mario games together (hoffman always goes donkey kong, amanda bowser or dry bones, adam princess peach) and amanda and hoffman WILL climb all over each other and accuse one another of cheating and it will get borderline violent but it's fine. they love each other. they're having fun.

[gayleafpool]

apollo cabin headcanons

they need less sleep than most people. they’re the sort that goes to bed after midnight and wakes up at 8 and somehow they manage

they all have some sort of musical talent. if they think they don’t they just haven’t discovered it yet. austin plays the saxophone kayla plays the ukelele will plays ummm guitar?? my instrument knowledge is limited

MOVIE NIGHTS BABEY!!! i feel like they would all love analyzing movies together. on saturday nights they’ll host movie nights and anyone is welcome to join

they grow like plants u think they’re gonna be kinda short bc they stay kinda small until like 12 or 13 and then they just SHOOT up they’re all freakishly tall. will and austin are 6ft kayla is 5’10. michael was only short bc he hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet but imagine how funny is would have been if he grew half a foot overnight and then everyone was like WHAT the hell happened except we never got that chance since he u know died

all of them have seasonal affective disorder, makes it a bit easier to deal with because they all understand each other

they’re all very outdoorsy. they love the sun and fresh air :) they’ll all go on hikes together!! they’ll go swimming in the lake!! they’ve also arranged some camping trips that have been fun. i am in love with the idea that will takes his siblings + lou ellen and cecil camping in the boundary waters

u know will’s piercing whistle? they’ve all got something like that. kayla can clap so loud it makes everyone nearby flinch. austin and do a loud scream think like black canary

apollo is the god of plague ur telling me none of his kids inherited anything to do with that? ok 🤨 anyway will has plague powers and also snakelike qualities (still on about my idea that he has some sort of hypnotism like power like snakes in stories) and i think it would’ve been fun if lee had them too. and he and will were there for each other. until they weren’t.

they all hate the color yellow and get mad when people assume it’s their favorite like JUST because they’re apollo kids?? no!!

they all are good at something that involves aim. kayla is good at archery austin can throw knives will can shoot a gun (but for some reason he’s better at using a shotgun than any other type idk maybe it’s the country in him)

THEY LOVE DANCING THEY HAVE DANCE PARTIES!! usually after midnight in their cabin. they’re not really that good or bad they’re just having fun

they’re huge nerds every single one of them. will ofc is the space/star wars nerd. what if i said austin was a warrior cats kid ahahahahahahha and kayla likes anime or something she kinda has the vibes

[lottienatyellowjackets]

mai and katara friendship headcanons? i saw them alluded to in another post!! (also i love ur takes on maiko!)

dkdhsksjsksjs i love them so much!!! thank you for the ask <3 n thank you so much!! so sorry this is so late!!

•katara and mai do not start off as friends post war. katara is wary of mai (rightfully so!!) and mai is cold to katara. while she slowly begins to befriend the rest of the gaang, she does not interact with katara and the younger girl doesn’t understand why. it’s not until sokka cracks a joke about the boy in the iceberg and mai’s entire mood changes for the night does katara realize mai does not know much of her and zuko’s FRIENDship. she clears the air with her right away and says that she would never like zuko and he loves mai. and mai awkwardly does admit she was jealous because she’s trying to be more open with her feelings.

•they are a year apart and slowly realize they have more in common than expected. they’re both masters at their craft and have dreams and ambitions of their own, but both already find themselves reduced to their boyfriends and their accomplishments by others. “the avatars girl” and “the fire lords girlfriend” are what some refer to them as, as if katara is not a master waterbender and mai not a extraordinarily talented knife thrower.

•katara is very radical in her politics (saw a post on this once!!) whereas mai definitely has more conservative ideas on money and states of the nation. their discussions often end in debates with both girls needing to cool off. but it’s always stimulating and they both just want the best for all the nations.

•there is a camaraderie when both your partners are world leaders. both girls sometimes wonder where they fall in the line of priorities for their boyfriends, and if they will spend the rest of their lives with these insecurities. it’s comforting to know they are not the only ones with these thoughts.

•they spar together and mai tries to whip her knives through water (i’m not sure if this is possible, i don’t know physics whatsoever!!)

•trying food from each other’s cultures!!

•mai loved learning (what she could) about the other nations as a child and katara takes her to the southern water tribe. they go penguin sledding and mai will deny it but she smiled the entire time and felt free for once!!

•when mai and zuko break up, katara and mai stay in touch via letters. also, when mai goes to republic city post smoke and shadows (another hc of mine <3) katara visits her often and they go out for dinner. she thinks mai breaking up with zuko was totally justified and applauds her for taking time to figure her life out and who she is.

•mai and zuko marry at 19 and 20 as opposed to 23 and 25 for katara and aang. it was just how each couple chose to do it! but on mai’s wedding day, katara helps do her hair and on katara’s, mai paints her nails.

•(besides aang), mai is the first person to know bumi is a nonbender. katara and aang love their son regardless of if he can bend or not, but they both know the world will see it differently and katara just wants to protect her son. also, she knows that some will be angry she did not have an airbender. she knows mai will relate in some capacity, because she and zuko have been married for eight years without a heir(which is a long time for royalty). mai is oddly comforting and reminds katara he’ll have so many ways to defend himself with all his awesome aunts and uncles.

•on the topic of mai and katara and families, they strongly relate to each other due to the immense pressure on their shoulders. katara knows the world needs an airbender, aang would love an airbender to continue their legacy, she wants an airbender to ensure aang is no longer the last one. mai knows the fire nation needs a heir for the line of succession, zuko wants a child, she wants a child. they’re both ripped apart by misogynists who blame all the problems on the women and despite constantly fighting for themselves, it is so tiring.

•katara helps deliver izumi <3

•mai and katara end up attending many of the same diplomacy meetings throughout the years and love to take down misogynists together!!! they always celebrate with some rice wine or tea or whatever they want that night after another successful day of being wonderful and intelligent woman.

•maiko and kataang double dates <3

•overall, they are unlikely friends and while it takes them a bit to find their footing, they become very close and stay that way until their dying days.

•also, the constant comparison between the two is just :( they’re both such wonderful, complex characters that don’t need to be brought down to tear the other up!!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Diego Hargreeves’ child

Diego Hargreeves x child!reader

warnings: knifes, blood, guns, death mentions, mental hospital

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Hi! Could you please write a “The Umbrella Academy” Diego Hargreeves x daughter reader headcanon? I always think Diego is such a overprotective softie dad ♥️♥️”

deigo really said “?????”

how dad

but also he’d just the most loving dad anyone could ever ask for

✨it’s because he was never loved by his dad✨

“hi cutie, i love you, i love you, i love youuuuu”

he locked away all his weapons so that you couldn’t hurt yourself on them

but he always missed a few and he’d turn around and see you holding throwing knives and just FREAK OUT

“no, no, no, you may not have those! knives are for big boys like me, not babies”

“give back”

“‘give back?’ are you nuts?”

diego has conversations with lil you as if you know what the fuck he means dhshshhshs

as you got older, you became more interested in his “career”

“no, i dont care if you have powers or not! you have a bedtime, that means no vigilantism, you hear me?”

“if i say ‘no’ can i be a vigilante?”

“you know what? how about you clean up the gym for al so he doesn’t evict us?”

you did not sign up for this

you really wanted to meet your aunts and uncles, but you weren’t exactly sure they knew about you

i mean, you knew you had a cousin but everyone knew about her because aunt allison was a goshdarn celebrity

“dad, i want to meet the family!”

“no you don’t”

end of discussion

despite having a bedtime, you still watched movies late at night with your dad

he really liked marvel movies

“come on, that would never happen!”

“you come from a family of superpowered kids, a robot mom, and a monkey, and you’re upset about...a guy that shoots arrows?”

“maybe i am, what’re you gonna do about it?”

you ask about umbrella academy stories a lot, you your dad usually makes it about him

“and then i punched that guy in the face! and then i stabbed him in the leg because he was a dick! bet you’re friend’s dads arent as cool as me”

*yawning bc you’ve heard this story a million times*

you go to public school

you do have your dad’s last name

which occasionally gets recognized

“woah! wasn’t your dad a superhero?”

“i have no idea what youre talking about” :)

practicing your knife throwing while diego is away, him coming home to find his knifes stuck through various targets

so proud but he had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself

you actually had to learn how to patch him up because he did come home a bit battered and bruised several times

“im okay, y/n. no need to freak”

“dad, there is literally blood dripping on the floor will you just sit down and stay still for five goddamn minutes?”

“woah, who the fuck taught you to cuss?”

watching the news at home when your grandfather was reportedly dead

you were actually very upset because you wanted to meet him so bad

even if he was a dick

your dad came home silent and you knew he knew

“you okay?”

“oh, yeah, im better than okay!”

finally getting the chance to meet your family

“who are you?” -allison

“im, uh, y/n. diego is my dad”

*jaw dropping*

and you know what? that happened four more times (plus ben but you didn’t get to see that)

“and you are?” -luther

“who’s the...the little one?” -klaus

“well, what do you know? diego’s a dad” -five

“don’t tell me that’s...no way” -ben

“you’re diego’s? wow, i can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone” -vanya

“i...i know who all of you are” -you

diego bragging about how perfect you are while everyone simultaneously rolls their eyes

“well, y/n, maybe one day we’ll schedule a playdate for you and claire” -allison

“‘playdate?’ how old do you think i am?...but yes i wanna meet her”

“god, you’re so much like diego, it’s unsettling”

you had been secretly training at al’s gym during your dad’s late night activities

so when trouble came your way, you were able to handle yourself pretty well

“where the hell did you learn that?”

“al showed me a few moves!”

“that old man? you’re kidding”

you met your grandmother, grace, who was tasked with keeping you safe at all times

you actually loved her sm

but there was something a bit off about her

besided the fact she was a robot

klaus snuck you out so that you two could have BoNdInG tImE

it wasn’t all bad

ben was a lil choked up that he got to meet one of his niblings

“they’re perfect”

“they just stabbed someone, buddy”

“who are you talking to?”

FIVE EVEN SCHEMED WITH YOU

“okay, y/n, i need you to curve something when i throw it, got that? right at that security guard”

“what are you throwing?”

“you’ll know when you see it, make your uncle five proud”

“IS THAT A GUN”

<3 family

running into patch!!

“hey, kid, i just saw your dad. i thought i told you to handcuff him to the radiator when you were away?”

“yeah, well, he wouldve chewed his hand off so here we are”

that was the last time you saw her :/

well, your dad was now a wanted man

“what happened to your arm?”

“no”

you actually didn’t expect this family reunion to go south like this

wait—yes you did

vanya has powers????

“i thought vanya was the one without powers?”

“yeah. so did we.”

diego straight up did not want you anywhere near that

but you, again, were his child and also fuck authority you do what you want

the vibe is almost getting shot several times

by hazel, cha cha, and “commission” guys?

going 2 ur auntie’s concert 😌✨

“y/n, hide in the bathroom and stay there until i come get you”

“dad, i love you, but no”

“y/n, i love you too, but yes”

“no”

“yes”

“NO”

“YES”

you won

but in the end (or not so much) you time traveled to...1961?

without any of your family

“this is...this is not good”

understatement of the year(s)

what was a kid like you gonna do in dallas, texas in 1961

no seriously, what

it was rough, but you managed to survive on your own

and open a paper in 1963 to find a mugshot of your dad

“son of a—”

visiting dad! (two years later)

“y/n? oh my god, y/n! shit, i missed you so much! why do you look different? you’re bigger, oh god. how long have you been here?”

“2 years, dad. you?”

his hair was so LONG

“2 months”

“christ, that’s it?!”

“i have to stop jfk from being assassinated”

“what makes you think that’s a good idea???”

“its the right thing to do, wanna help?”

“shit, i guess. as long as i dont end up here”

“no promises, people in the 60’s are crazy”

diego: 👁👄👁

you: 👀

running into five on the street soon after

“uncle five?”

“no time to talk”

“okay, asshole? i’ve been here for 2 years and you dont care?”

“two years, huh? i spent 45 years in a post apocalyptic world as a 13 year old and beyond”

“i didn’t say it was a competition, dude. you kinda dropped us all at different times. at least, me and dad. he—”

“is trying to kill lee harvey oswald, i know. come with me”

finally running into your other aunts and uncles, who were so excited to see you

you ran into their arms and they picked you off the ground and you felt closer than ever after only knowing them for 10 days

dad broke out

lila too

“im your new mom!”

“you’re what?”

diego dragged you along with him almost everywhere

he had missed you so much, but he keeps forgetting you kinda grew up without him for a while longer

meeting grandpa :)

“a grandchild, huh? how unfortunate”

“bitch”

“what did you just call me?”

“a bitch.”

your dad and basically the entire table trying to hold back laughter

reggie was stunned

cold hearted just like him <3 he didn’t know if he was offended or proud

this is so confusing

diego just disappeared off the face of the earth

and assassins were on your case

“the goddamn swedes are back oh shittt im gonna die”

“y/n, just curve their bullets”

“it’s not as easy as it sounds, klaus!”

you were doomed

theres too much to go over

apparently you died on a farm????

and then you didn’t??????

and your dad was almost apart of the commission

“hey, you okay, y/n?”

“i would like to take a nap please”

“yeah, me too”

“me three!” -klaus

yeah it was never that simple 😌💕 the end

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @cullens-stuff // @lotsoffandomrecs // @takethebladeawayfromme // @that-nerd-tessa // @teenwaywardasgardian // @spidergirla5 // @sheridans-dynamos // @freya-xo // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @jay-is-groovy // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm // @abbiesthings // @thereagles // @ofthedewthesunlight //

[dishonestkilla]

Hate Me

This is a very short headcanon I thought of while listening to the song below.

TW: Angst, language, NSFW, 18+ content, mentions of violence, smut, toxic relationship, nasty smut it's nasty so read at ur ownnnnnnnn risk

Pairing: Drug Dealer!ReaderAU × Dabi

words: 3k

There was a thick silence in the dark alley where they stood. The only sound being the sound of tobacco burning on the other side of the cancer stick that was placed between her plush lips, the smoke she inhaled being freed the moment she breathed out, letting the toxins out towards his furious face.

Teal eyes burnt through her soul, shooting daggers at her. If a gaze could kill, she would've been long dead.

"So, that is all you are? A petty criminal?" The question was more rhetorical than something that actually needed to be asked. Dabi never knew what she actually did, hell, he now wanted to know if he ever actually was aware of who she was..But now, all that he could feel was a slice of anger blinding his sight.

"Yeah," She shrugged, still unfazed by his shaking figure and in one second, she could've sworn that a blue flame sparked on the surface of his scarred face but being the stubborn woman, the warning sign of his rage was ignored.

To her, his wrath was not justified nor was it plausible. This was her life, it had always been. Just because she let him spend a night here and there, caressed the side of his rough face, kissed his lips tenderly and loved him dearly, holding him close whenever she felt like breaking, it didn't mean that he could interfere in her business life.

"You have been lying to me all this time? Staged working at Kurogiri's bar for what? To get your hands on some filthy money?? Is that it? Money? Is that all you care for? Don't you think that our world has enough problems, wouldn't you like to be part of something that is actually worth a thing?" Dabi's voice raised slightly at the end, his hands flying up in dissatisfaction as he eyed her, but the sight he saw was anything but pleasant.

Her face had been contorted into a crooked smile, head tilted go the side just a little, orbs darker than usual. That grimace made him so mad, he could've sworn a vein in his neck popped from how tense he had become.

"Listen to yourself, acting all big and tough. Fucking hell," Y/N blurted, a big puff of smoke leaving her throat as she laughed out, "So what if I am not the Messiah. So what if I am not like you, a saint, a chosen one. I have been doing this ever since I left home, if you don't like it, you don't have to be going out with me." She continued, face turning serious, her orbs now igniting a new flame in themselves.

"You don't have to love me, if you don't want to accept me," her voice was barely audible when she said that but knowing Dabi, Y/N was sure he heard her.

"Why don't you let me help you then? Because I do love you, fuck, I love you so much, isn't it proof enough that I'd put myself as a villain at risk to be exposed to some junkie that would die to sell me to the police? Just to be able to he-" before the real eyed male could continue, he was interrupted, Y/N now also tensed up, lips quivering, she was mad and it was evident.

"I don't need your damn help, you bastard!" And in the next second, her hand had made contact with the surface of his face, leaving a red print behind.

"I owe you nothing and don't want to either," she hissed, jaw clenching, hands balled into fists as her gaze was now hunting him down.

"Owe me? Who in the fuck told you that in a relationship people owe each other things?!"

"Who in the fuck dated you, so that you know now?!" Her words weren't little knives into his hearts, no, it was like her ever so soft hands wrapped around the organ itself, crushing it inside of his chest. Just like that.

"You don't mean that," He whispered, now suddenly vulnerable, hurt and saddened.

"Yes, I do. I do, because you always claim to know everything, mess up my business, try to tell me what the fuck to do, and then dare to teach me on relationships. Reality check, Dabi. You're a villain, a burnt, brutal, scary villain. Nothing more." She yelled at this point. Tears welling up in her eyes, entire body shaking in frustration as her voice made it's way to the ears of the black haired man.

His lips were shaking, and now it wasn't only anger and sadness inside of his guts, it was something much worse.

Dabi wanted to wrap his hands around her throat and squeeze. Hard.

But no, not like one of the times where he had her against the wall, hips plowing into hers, one nipple between his fingers as she moaned loudly at his ministrations, head against the concrete. Not like those times where he let out his steam on her, ravaging her body, leaving purple marks on her satin alike skin that he had adorned with love bites moments before.

It wasn't one of the many moments in which she submitted to him with a mewl because of how roughly his digits burned her as a sign of affection alongside of his length caressing her velvety walls, bruising thrusts being the source for the nasty clapping and squelching noises that filled the room of the empty bathroom stall in some random club.

This was different, he wanted to cut her oxygen supply for good, watch as her face started to grimace, eyes rolling back as he took her life ever so slowly before burning her perfect body in his flames, feeling her warmth one last time before extinguishing her.

Without even noticing, he had moved forward, trapping her between the brick barricade behind her, caging her between his arms while holding her down with his own weight.

The way she looked at him caused a low growl to erupt his chest, a rush of heat running down his spine as he watched her with intent eyes.

Now, it was his turn to smirk twistedly at Y/N as the girl gulped. It wasn't like she was weak, the opposite, her quirk was one to be feared at least to say, after all, she could manipulate other people's nerves to bend at her own will, if she wanted to, she could cause him severe pain, but instead of that, she let him pin her down with his eyes. Despite of being powerful, she was fairly aware of Dabi's high pain tolerance as well as his immense strength. Y/N wasn't stupid enough to try and fight the male when she was intoxicated at that.

"Let me show you what you do to me.."

Before she could even protest, his lips had been attached to her sweet spot right below her right ear, a meal leaving her plump lips, melting at his touch and the way his calloused hands traveled the surface of her body. Arms now around his neck as she pulled him impossibly closer, causing Dabi to snicker against her throat while leaving wet kisses on her neck, marking her in his wake.

"Look at you, already a whimpering mess and I haven't even started yet," he rasped, now standing up straight again to meet her desperate gaze.

"Shut up," the girl retorted with sass, now it was her turn to tease him.

Lips colliding with his own, the taste of nicotine and whiskey flooding her senses, everything a blur and the reason on why they had started to banter long forgotten, the only thing mattering being their lust and desire for one another.

While his fingers tugged at the strands of her locks, her own had started to fumble with his belt, haphazardly ripping away the leather piece before she slid down the wall to kneel in front of his growing erection.

The heels of her shoes now meeting the wall as he had granted little space so she could do whatever she wanted to.

Soft pecks placing themselves against his restrained bulge before his hands wrapped themselves around her hair, making her look up at his gaze, "Get to it," he ordered and Y/N didn't have to be told twice before pulling his pants and boxers down to below his thighs, just enough to grant access to the angry tip of his cock, precum already leaking down the slit.

Experimentally she licked a stripe from his base to the tip, tasting his slightly pineapple flavoured release.

Yes, pineapple. She had forced him to eat the fruit regularly, if he wanted her lips around his length and his shaft down her throat.

One hand wrapped around him, thumb and index finger not able to touch, she started to jerk off the tall individual in front of herself, eyes focused on his leaking tip, paying attention to the area with kitten licks.

"Did you forget how to suck dick? Do I have to remind you?" He snapped at her, a sneaky smirk on his face.

Not wanting to play his petty game, the female let her head down till her nose met with his pubic bone, irises blown wide with lust at the sight of him groaning, his head lulled back at the immense pressure of feeling the walls of her throat inviting him.

Repeating the action a few times she then proceeded to suck down his erection with quick yet impactful bobbing motions, cheeks hollowing around him, practically milking him for whatever he was about to give her.

The two were fighting, they hated each other at times and probably had been at the verge of killing the other more than just once, however, they also knew each other more than anyone else did and not only physically but also emotionally. Now, the knowledge of one another's body and sweet spots were the advantage of their frankly scandalous little escapade in some dark alleyway where she had been dealing some of her 'happy pills' and 'devil's lettuce' the latter being what she was high on herself. The only difference being the passion and burning desire that fueled her intoxicated mind to wander even more. 'Test the waters and play with fire', as she liked to say.

One of his scarred hands darted out into her hair, nimble fingers digging in as he took a fist of her locks into his palm, pulling her head down his entire shaft, the intrusion causing a soft gag to escape her throat, eyes shooting up to meet his mischievous gaze upon her, the sight of his lazy smirk yet fiery orbs sending a jolt straight to her core.

He had regained control of what was going down, his hips now ramming into her mouth as if it was a fleshlight for him to abuse. The mere sight of how her pretty lips wrapped around his tip just to be parted more whilst he forced her down onto his length, the way she salivated all over him, drool now dribbling down onto her exposed cleavage that was peeking up from underneath the flimsy top she wore, her eyes slowly watering as she laid her hands on either side of his thick thighs. It was mesmerizing, if he could he would take a picture of it.

Finally satisfied with one last thrust into her sloppy cavern, the male didn't wait any longer before pulling her up to her wobbly legs, turning her around, he pushed her face into the wall behind herself, moving behind her as his lips latched onto her neck again, leaving bite marks here and there while his hands made quick work of her leather pants, pulling them down her thighs hastily, groaning at the sight of her lacy panties, "Seems like you've expected this, yeah? Getting fucked by no other than your man in a nasty alleyway." Making her sneer at him, she was quick to reply to his comment, "My man? Darling, you're not even a man in the first place!" That was it.

That was what caused his next moves to be crude and rougher than usual.

Pinning her arms behind her back as he bent her over against the wall, hips plowing into her, intruding her insides to spread for him, grunting as her wet, spongy walls clenched around him.

Without further do, he started to slam into her with slow, yet deep thrusts, the force of each thrust causing her entire body to jolt forward, pushing her against the wall even more.

His moves never faltered as he pulled out of her so merely his tip was coated in her juices, forcing his entire dick into her repeatedly before he set a steady pace of in and out.

Dabi was taking his time judging on how he dragged out the moment by changing between steady thrusts and reckless ramming.

One hand that supported her hips whilst she moaned and mewled at her insides being rearranged by him over and over, lifted, igniting a fire for a second before raining down onto each ass cheek of the girl in front of himself, leaving red hand prints that would stay for quite some time, marking her squeal at the force, the rough treatment being painful yet so pleasant that she couldn't help but moan out incoherent words as his hips sped up to an erratic pace, knocking the air out of her lungs.

"Yeah? What was that? Who isn't your man, huh? Say that again, I want to hear you say it." The way his voice seemed so unfazed caused her to roll back her hips like some sex-crazed animal, whimpering at the lack of treatment when he suddenly pulled out just to forcefully pull her flush against himself.

However, Y/N wasn't that fragile, with that being said, a smirk crept onto the female's flushed face, "Not you-" Her answer caused a low growl emit from the male, as he pulled her back by her hair, now back arched even more as he groaned against her ear, voice raspy, the hand that held her wrists wrapping around her throat, cutting the air supply of the girl, hips assaulting her again, the sound of skin slapping filling the quiet alley.

As her walls clenched yet again caused by him abusing her cunt for more than half an hour without letting her release, each time pulling out just to make sure she'd get the message of who was in charge. At this point she was shaking, her jaw slack while tears ran down her cheeks, staining her face.

"Come on, baby, tell everyone here who your man is and I will fuck you until you cum all over my cock, little slut," He could swear that he felt her grow even tighter around his length as he degraded her yet again.

"D-D-Dabi.." her voice was a mere whisper and not enough for the hot headed man, shaking his head as his hips came to a halt again. Denying her release all over.

"What, princess, I couldn't hear you and I bet no one else could either. Use your pretty brain if you want to cum."

Those words finally pulled her trigger as she started to beg the wanted villain, "H-hah~ Please, Dabi, I am yours, all yours and - you're my m-man, please make me cum.." She pleaded, voice desperate and in a hoarse tone.

Pleased with her begging, the black haired criminal picked up his recklessly rough pace again, one hand creeping to her front as he started to rub her clit in circles, and all of that combined to the low growl and grunts coming from him while biting her neck was enough to make white flash in her vision, body trembling as her release gushed out of her abused hole, screaming out his name.

Vigorously shaking in his arms as he worked her furthermore until he released his seed into her, painting her walls white whilst she milked him.

"I've got you, I've got you." The man cooed, caressing her body as he slowly let her calm down before pulling out of her, helping her redress as he pulled his pants up himself, watching her lean against the wall, hair tousled and mascara running down her eyes as he held out a hand, wiping away the black streaks lovingly, her head automatically leaning into his touch.

"I hate everything about you," she mumbled, making him chuckle, cocking an eyebrow at her as he watched her put a blunt between those lips of hers, lighting up the piece before inhaling the toxins inside of it, eyes rolling to the back of her head in comfort.

Moving forward he took the piece from her, he grabbed her jaw after she took another big hit, kissing her softly, tongues and smoke mixing together before he took her hand and lead her to his nearby apartment, with her just strolling after him like a lost puppy just to be cuddled up on his chest moments later upon her arrival in his shabby little space, arms around him while smoking yet another blunt.

Looking up at his turquoise eyes that held so many unreadable emotions, she let out a huff, pouting at him before laying her cheek flat against the surface of his sternum again.

"I didn't mean that," She slowly admitted, looking up to see him smirk a little, man if she could've just punched him. Well, she could..But shouldn't..Unless..

"I know that you were just Dic-"

"Don't say it, I swear to god, do not say it!"

"Dickrived,"

"Ugh! you're such a dork."

Both laughed at the silly comment Dabi made proudly, his entire chest puffing up before he embraced her with his arms, "Am I really such a monster?" He suddenly asked before she unexpectedly kissed his lips with passion, in an attempt to quiet him down.

"Shush, no you aren't. And even if you were.. You are my monster." Those were the last few words he heard before they both drifted off to sleep, never knowing what would expect them next.

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

A/N: This took longer than I thought, phew. Hope y'all thirsty ones liked it hehe.

[dastardlydandelion]

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

”Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

[reversecreek]

snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here. 

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her  | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own. 

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year. 

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop. 

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her. 

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

[in-tua-deep]

tua s1 rewatch with my roommate

episode one (I forgot for the first episode oops):

I have been treated to pictures of a lovely cosplay of Klaus who won a cosplay contest my roommate was in !!

Klaus putting his arm in front of Five during the funeral fight is good shit

“I have heard like nothing about Vanya” “yeah that’s pretty much how she’s treated in show as well”

“I can see why he’s the fandom favorite” - about Klaus

“Istanbul is in the firST EPISODE?”

I forGOT about the “rapists can climb” line when he breaks into Vanya’s apartment omg but also like,, his dumb arm wound

Episode two:

HERR CARLSON

Aww baby fives first time travel his little smile. Baby. Baby boy. And the dawning horror in the apocalypse baby nO

Five: you got anything stronger

Also five: takes one sip and then fills up more, takes another sip, and then immediately puts it down ?????

The motel dude for hazel and cha cha just looks at them like “yeah these are serial killers” and just rolls with it

Also actually why tf doesn’t the commission spring for better stuff?? Why would they cut costs?? They time travel? They could game the stock market so hard ?????? Give the assassins their own rooms omg

Also why didn’t five like. Crush his tracker. Why did he just leave it whole and intact outside of the Griddys.

Forgot how much I love Agnes

(Oh man it is storming bad here it just BOOMED)

Also idk if Diego actually deserved that taser hmmmmm but also like,, communication lads five was literally right there killing people and Diego is like “hmm something is up here” like. Yeah Diego ur big brother “I can get my sibling in trouble for something” senses are tingling

Wow I really did repress all these Allison and Luther scenes huh. Also it’s still super cute that Allison read Claire moon books

Allison: dads heart gave out, which wasn’t how I was expecting to find out dad had a heart but it tracks

“SHUT YOUR PIEHOLE BEN... said with love 😘”

Did five actually sleep at Vanyas?? The sofa looks undisturbed but he had to wait for work hours to interrogate the meritech people,, five,, please sleep. The whole “IF YOU CALL ME YOUNG MAN ONE MORE TIME” interaction makes more sense with five on. Zero sleep.

I didn’t remember that Patch straight up knows about the umbrella academy oops. Like she clocks Diego as overcompensating for his childhood. Queen

Is that an umbrella adademy Diego cross stitch on Diego’s wall?? Did he buy that? Make it?? Did grace make it?

Vanya, walking into the academy: five??? five? pspspspspsps

Also like. Who was Vanyas therapist??? Clearly they did not help her

Aww the tow truck driver :(

I know the show wants me to dislike Patrick I KNOW,, and I think her fathers funeral is extenuating circumstance?? But still Patrick is valid for not giving an inch regarding his ex who mind controlled his child. Vanya didn’t really deserve Allison snapping at her but like. She had some good points. Allison arguably would have had to deal with vanyas book more than anyone else

Five smiling proudly at Klaus’s drama at meritech bless but also KLAUS DONT BREAK GLASS ON YOURSELF

Me, spotting Leonard: BASTARD

Love how everyone greets Diego in the gym and don’t question all his knives or anything like “yeah that’s Diego he lives here and loves knives :)”

Why could Leonard have not been like. A normal ass guy. Vanya needs friends who sympathize with her holy shit get this person some socialization

Pogo really did have to lead these kids by hand to the recording rooms because literally no one was super invested in reginalds ~murder mystery~

ahafahJAGSJWGAI MY ROOMMATE JUST SAID POGO IS THE BEST CHARACTER SO FAR,,,, I will probably never include pogo in my fics because I do Not Care About Him lmaoooo

Aww five does to see Dolores and being like “it’s been a rough couple of days :(“,,,,, baby,,,, but also tag yourself I’m hazel going “elastic wrist splint yesssssss”

Five I am begging you PLEASE get some sleep

OH FIVE SHAKING DIEGO IN THE APOCALYPSE TO TRY AND WAKE HIM UP OHHHHH OH :(

Episode 3:

my roommate is super faceblind which is an issue bc she identifies people mainly by hairstyle so seeing the s2 stuff on tumblr is tripping her over bc she keeps seeing diego and going ??? who is that again? bc she’s seen his longer hair

okay there is no way that the eggs that grace put in that pan are the ones that ended up on the smiley face breakfast plate,,, but also grace that whole scene was a mood honestly i would be like “okay maybe mom killed dad BUT he deserved it sooooo”

“what the FUCK” - my roommate about cha-cha’s shitty wound care where she holds a curling iron against her arm

i didn’t remember that five got shOT AT THE DEPARTMENT STORE did i just erase that from my memory?? i mean yeah it’s a graze but he stitches it up and then slaps a bandaid on it so he has a wound that needed stitches on his shoulder for the entire show ??????? is he okay???? that would make moving your arm,,, painful,,,,,

a bandaid just slapped over it i’m actively yelling

“Sometimes when I see a million gifs of a show before I watch I get really surprised when they talk but he is exactly what I expected” - my roommate, about five

“I noticed they’ve only really showed diego in really badly lit scenes so far” - my roommate defending her lack of ability to recognize diego

i’m still laughing about pogo literally having to point out the murder tapes and now allison and luther are investigating and just. allison is lowkey defending grace and i’m laughing

“why is he saying woodwork is embarrassing that’s like one of the most middle of the wood hobbies to have. you’re respectable to grandpas who used to carve wooden ducks AND twenty-year-olds who can’t make anything to save their lives” - my roommate on leonard peabody

“i think he’s already crossing some lines he’s met this lady ONCE” - roommate on leonard/vanya

five having flashbacks in the car :(

did allison and luther draw straws for who went to fetch which sibling?? allison was like “dibs on vanya” and luther was just like “aww :(”

five luther and klaus in the van - BOYS NIGHT BOYS NIGHT let’s go pick up diego

“the coat he’s wearing does have a nice swish to it” - roommate about klaus’s coat

luther being like “you’re just as messed up as the rest of us and we’re all you have” like luther,,, baby,,,,, you literally ARE all he has,,,,,, his family is the only thing he’s really cared about since he was thirteen and maybe before then :(

“I can’t tell if those are supposed to be cake or yeast donuts... i think extruded donuts are cake donuts but she said she lets them rise so maybe they’re yeast?” - my roommate focusing on all the things that i do not

sometimes i forget that hazel and cha-cha pretended to be private detectives trying to find a lost child in a potentially dangerous situation,,, five would be disgusted

“she shouldn’t get a vote” “i was gonna say i agree with you” “she should get a vote!!” this is peak sibling energy honestly i think i’ve had that exact interaction with my siblings voting for a movie or something

“hashtag android rights” 

“I want to be the tailor who gets a call one day that says ‘i want you to make clothes for a chimpanzee”

is it telling that only luther in the flashback didn’t really talk to grace at all,, i mean five didn’t either but i think he was gone by that point in the flashback ???? 

wait diego tells grace that she worked for him for thirty years,,, the kids are 29 and later it’s implied she was built bc vanya kept killing nannies when they were like four but maybe s2 clarifies that some more?? or diego just is rounding up

“that’s an interesting fabric to her skirt” - my roommate about grace’s outfit

forgot that hazel and cha cha broke the door to the manor busting in,, do they ever fix that?? we’re only at episode three do they spend the rest of the season with their door open to anyone on the streets

okay that bathtub is WAY too small to allow for klaus to be moving his elbows about like that underwater smh

“how is HE useful on mission??” my roommate about klaus

where is the SECURITY SYSTEM??? luther LITERALLY said that reggie was more paranoid and yet some assassin can just bust down the door and have unrestricted access????? he built a whole ROBOT but no security system????????

“maybe it was like,, practice for the kids? someone breaks in and they take care of it? wait no that doesn’t explain the thirteen years they’ve been gone?”

“why WAS he on the moon?” - about luther

“I want to see what she’s embroidering!!” about grace during the gunfight in the living room she’s absolutely ignoring diego getting shot at

what is a rope-a-dope,,,, diego yells “EVER HEARD OF A ROPE-A-DOPE???” at luther but like. no i haven’t. what does that MEAN diego

aww i forgot they played sinnerman, love that song

“what are you doing dude, rumor has it you’re not shooting at me that’s all you need to do” i mean. the roommate is not wrong. allison could just end the fight with a yell. i understand she’s pissed off and has rumor trauma but like cha cha is actively trying to murder them

how is luther not winning he literally has super strength. does hazel have super strength? just punch the man and knock him out jesus y’all suck at this smh

why is there such intense music we all been knew about luther’s strength - oH HIS BODY

forgot about that

is it allison’s fault that klaus got kidnapped because she didn’t literally just rumor them to give up?? like she literally has that power. she could have been like “i heard a rumor you left and forgot about us” it didn’t even need to be violent?? i understand she has rumor trauma but this i feel is allowable circumstances

diego showing his worry about vanya by getting angry which honestly i think all the siblings do that rip none of these idiots have even heard of healthy communication in their LIVES

you know,, i don’t think vanya can drive. she takes the bus. she took a taxi to leonard’s house. we see her walking a lot. does she know how to drive?? i imagine that the umbrella academy were taught bc of mission related stuff but,,, vanya wasn’t?? that’s just depressing tbh