#i am here to secure the endgame

[sweetevoltrap]

Sylus reclaiming Little Bomb as a teasing nickname...

[paracosmic-murdock]

vigilante like me

chapter seven: you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon

pairing: matt murdock x black widow!vigilante!reader

summary: nights and nights of playing the hero as if that could redeem you that easily ended up taking you to new york, where you accidentally met the man who would turn your world upside down. a vigilante like you.

warnings/tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, injuries, mentions of murder and themes explored in the past couple chapters, mentions of reader being able to wear matt's clothes but it's not specified whether they're too big/too small/fit perfectly/etc., phd in applied flirting and ma in yearning studies, some smut (minors dni), takes place sometime during the blip, when born again comes out we might find out if my decisions of who were gone were right, spoilers/references of stuff and themes from daredevil (2015); avengers: infinity war (2018); avengers: endgame (2019) black widow (2021); and hawkeye (2021), but y'all must've watched all of those already so idc, yelena belova and the themes and events from the black widow (2021) movie are very relevant in this plot, song: cowboy like me (taylor swift)

✰ chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six | chapter eight | chapter nine

word count: 2.9K

✰ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

Who would you call if you killed someone? That is the question.

As a Black Widow, you never really cared about hiding a body… you found your target, got the job done, and left. You never stuck around long enough to find out anything. Either way, you have nobody to call in case you ever had to hide a body or get an alibi. You don't think you would need anybody for that, right? You know enough.

But, who would Matt Murdock call if he killed somebody? Would he call anybody at all? He is not the kind of person who would burden anybody else with his faults if he can help it. Both knowledge and involvement are a heavy weight to carry, and Matt isn't willing to put anybody —much less if it is a person he loves— in that position; there is enough with those who already know he is Daredevil. However, he knows that there is one person in his life right now that wouldn't judge him and would be glad to help him carry such a cross—to ease his guilt.

That someone is you, he knows that all too well. That is why he couldn't tell you what happened; what he did.

He just returned home, took a long shower, a habit he had recently gotten from you, and went to sleep on his couch.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone. It was 7 AM, and your boss was calling you for God only knows what. Then, you remembered what had happened the previous night and the way he probably just found the gym.

“Hello?”

“Dear God, are you alright?!”

You cleared your throat. “I take it that you are in Fogwell's already.”

“Yeah! What the Hell happened here?! I saw the security footage right away, God!”

“Security footage?” you asked, fearing for yourself and for Matt's identity.

“Yes, where are you?”

“At home,” you lied, making a grin of guilt you knew he couldn't see.

He sighed. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit, of course,” you replied. “Can you not… tell the cops about this?”

“Sure, so the guy who drugged you and left you there and the other guy who tried to kill you can be free and get away with it?”

“Basically,” you replied, preparing yourself for him to disagree. “Look, I can't get involved with the cops, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I'll make up for it,” you promised. “I'll be there today. 9 AM, Boss.”

“Oh, don't you dare,” he answered. You swear you could see his upset face staring at you, outraged like a father. “If you actually die in the workplace, I'll have way more issues, you know? Just… I'll come see you at lunch break. Do you need anything?”

You hummed. “I need you to delete that footage. Please.”

“Alright, I will,” He sighed. “What happened with- uh, you know. The guy who saved you?”

“I told him to take me home and not to worry,” you lied, again. “He, uh… left when I called a friend that's a doctor. You know Louis? He trains at Fogwell's almost everyday. He's an ortho surgeon, which is convenient, right?”

“I hope you're not lying to me, young lady.”

“You don't have to come see me, Bobby,” you chuckled. “I'm okay, and there's a friend with me here.”

“Do you even have friends?”

“An incredibly tiny amount and half as many as I used to.”

“What? Four to two?” he questioned, all ironic.

“You're a smart one, aren't you?”

He scoffed. “You're suspended for a week for being mean to your boss and also you're taking a few sick days. You must be eighty percent dead. Paid.”

“I'll take a three-day leave.”

“Make it five. And you'll take it easy once you're back, alright? Promise.”

“Okay, I promise.” You curved your lips slightly.

“I'll come see you tomorrow morning,” he announced. “I'll take Marlene with me and we'll bring you a nice breakfast.”

You sighed. “I don't want to put any of you at risk, okay? I'm not sure what those people truly wanted, but what I do know is that they could target anybody close to me.”

“I can take care of myself,”

“Those were the good old days,” you reminded him. “I'm gonna be back as good as new. You know that if there's someone in Fogwell's who can take a beating, it's me.”

“You remind me of someone, Y/N,” Bobby commented with a smile you couldn't see but you felt it in his voice. It was one of affection, very fatherly.

Your idea of fatherhood is based on some movies or shows. You always thought he was the model of a great father, at least he was always that way with you: dumb dad jokes you pretended not to laugh at, always protective of you despite you constantly telling him not to worry, and believing in you and helping you no matter what. Bobby Fogwell was a great boss, a great father figure, and a way greater person.

If there was somebody who didn't deserve to carry the burden of you or be affected by your shit, that was definitely him.

“Who would that be, sir?” you asked.

“There was a boxer here back in the good old days,” Bobby began. “Good at punching but somehow better at taking a punch. One thing about him? He never stayed down. He knew the floor very well and knew that's not where he belonged. Lost more than he ever won, but his conviction used to make it seem like he could never lose.”

“Do you think I've lost more than I've ever won, Bobby?”

He clicked his tongue. “Would you ever let me finish?”

“You stopped talking!”

“To breathe, damn,” You knew he rolled his eyes. “Alright, so… He had a son; a single father he was. The boy was in an accident when he was a kid, I think he was nine or ten, I'm not sure. The thing is: God, he did everything for his kid… when you see what parents sacrifice for their children, that's when you look at yourself and realize when and where you're failing. I'm not saying he was perfect, but he was damn good. And you must be wondering what that has to do with you, right?”

“Right,”

He chuckled. “I think you have never been one to look beyond the present, and I know you haven't really gotten around to care about someone else, but you'd be the best at it. You always stand up, no matter how awful those punches are, and I need you to look in the mirror and tell yourself that you can do anything; nothing can end you.”

“You really wanna see me all beaten up, don't you?” you questioned him, trying to suppress a laugh.

Bobby did laugh. “I'm gonna put you in the ring, lady. We'll make thousands out of you.”

“Will we? What would my stage name be?”

“I've actually thought about it. My go-to is Black Widow, you know? Because you're Russian like Natasha Romanoff and you're a damn good fighter.”

You clicked your tongue, trying to ignore how much being called a Black Widow by someone who didn't know any better really hurt you. “Did the man that I remind you of have a better stage name? I can't accept that.”

“Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Listening to that name made your heart jump. Of course it was Matt's father, and of course you felt like you had invaded his privacy by knowing what happened to him as a kid.

“That's a badass name,” you commented, looking at the door as you felt Matt's presence join you in his bedroom as if you had just summoned him. He had a tray in his hands but you didn't really pay attention. “I'm honored.”

“Damn right you should be,” He laughed. “Anyway, I won't take anymore of your time. Get well soon, okay? And rest a lot.”

“Will do, Boss.” You hung up the call.

“Work?”

You hummed. “Yeah. Bobby has security cameras now, but don't worry, I got him to delete the footage.”

“That's good to know, I guess.”

“Yeah, you're safe,” you noted. “He saw that you saved me, though.”

“So I heard.”

“Show off.” You scoffed.

Matt shook his head and smiled lightly. “I brought you breakfast.”

“Such a gentleman,” You lifted a corner of your lips while he sat beside you, looking incredibly handsome in his midnight blue dress suit for work. “I've only ever seen this in the movies.”

“Now you can say you've experienced it.”

You stared at his face. You couldn't help it. He was just so…

“Oh, you like me that much, sweetheart?” Matt grinned.

You just stood up. “Shut up. Give me a toothbrush.”

“I left one for you near the sink. It's the one that doesn't look used.”

“Copy that.”

“Do you not like me, then?” Matt questioned you, increasing the volume of his voice as you left the room.

“I don't. You're absolutely hideous and I might need a paper bag hiding your face once I'm back.” you muttered on your way, knowing he could hear you.

He laughed. “Was that a joke?”

“That was the truth.” you denied before starting to brush your teeth.

You didn't expect what you saw once you were back in the room.

“You're a kid,” You shook your head, taking a seat beside him. “Definitely. Are you seven?”

“No.”

You ripped the paper bag open. “Gross face. So hard on the eye.”

Matt smiled and brought you closer. “I hope you're not ugly because there can't be two of us.”

“Disgusting,” You kissed him. “Can't believe I like you this much.”

He brought you even closer and kissed you again, wishing he could do so and never, ever stop. Maybe having you like this would help him forget the one thing that has been driving him insane since the previous night, though you were the reason he did what he did.

Matt can't even say what he did. That would make it real, putting it a name.

“Hello?”

You inhaled, trying to muster the strength to speak. “Hi, Sveta.”

“Hi!” She greeted you cheerfully. You curved your lips softly as you heard how excited she was to speak to you. “You've forgotten about me.”

“I could never forget about you,” you replied. “Actually, I was thinking about having lunch with you today, are you in?”

“Yeah, of course,” she agreed. “We could go to that restaurant near my place, is that okay? It's the one that's right across the street.”

“Italian?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, see you there. 1 PM is alright?”

She hummed. “Perfect. See you.”

Waiting until Matt left for his office to make the call drove you far too anxious for your own good. So, when the rough calculations told you he must be at this workplace already, you gave yourself the freedom to make the call that was begging you to be made.

You decided you were going to stop fighting. It was of no use anymore.

During the hours of introspection in which Matt was out being Daredevil and you were failing to fall asleep in his bed, you came to the conclusion that you weren't doing anything to help anybody. It was all much more an excuse, or maybe you just weren't able to stop fighting because it's all you've ever known in life. Who are you if not a fighter?

That is what you had to find out, and now you had a reason to get an answer. Just because something is all you've ever known, it doesn't mean that it's all that you are.

However, it doesn't mean you should start right now. Maybe the process could wait until you found them. Because they did you dirty, and you couldn't really fathom how much until you were staring at yourself on your phone's screen.

There was no way in hell you could hide the fact that you had taken a beating not too long ago. It was so bad that you knew even under the average New Yorker's careless eyes, it was quite obvious with the way you stood, the way you walked, and the stitched cuts all over your body.

Either way, you did your best with Matt's clothes. Yours were all ripped and torn from the attack you had received, not to mention full of blood.

As you had a moment to do what you feared—looking at yourself, you felt tears running down your cheeks. You hadn't cried in five years, when Yelena was blipped, and before that, a couple years after she found you and showed you some other of the files Natasha had gotten from the Red Room, the one that said how you specifically were selected and later taken from your family. Reading how those routine genetic tests they perform at hospitals to pregnant women and their fetuses were just given to the wrong hands so they could find perfect matches for the model of girls they wanted for their Black Widow program, how the doctors would be so careful with the mothers of these girls and their pregnancies, how everyone just faked a baby's death to give them to the Dreykov, and how you were one of those. Just knowing that there wasn't any further information about you, wherever you were born and who your family was was so devastating that it made you shed a few tears. Before that, you cried when you killed Olga, and before that, the last day of an undercover mission in Naples when you were seven years old. The only souvenir you had from there was the last name of the Widow who pretended to be your mother, Katerina Volkova. You kept it as your own later. Those are the only happy years you know you have lived.

Now, you believed you could find happiness again; one as beautiful as how a child's innocence is, and you could only get there once you had the peace that will come when Fyodor and Crosby are gone.

It was ironic how a fake face was the only thing that made you feel safe. As if only someone else deserves peace, not you. Never you… So, you wore it as you left Matt's apartment building and got to yours in a cab.

You quickly checked your apartment for any possible intruder, so paranoid you could pass out from the stress.

Thankfully, it was all clear.

You found a bigger bag and saved some clothes, knives, all your guns but the one in the fridge, bullets, money, makeup, medicine, first aid kit, coffee, laptop, and a book you had bought but never read. You thought you might have to stay with Matt for a couple days at least and you had to be ready.

When you got back to Matt's apartment, you left your bag in a corner, changed your clothes, and left for the restaurant you and Svetlana would have lunch at.

The thing you weren't counting on was Matt going to his place with lunch for you, spotting you leaving far too easily.

So he followed you.

You and Svetlana had your lunch and got up to date with each other's lives. It was easy talking to someone who understood your struggles and shared a past.

She was always easy to read, that's how you knew she had no kind of involvement in what had happened to you. Once she was free, she decided she wouldn't be one to hide and be under radar; it was her moment to find out who she truly was.

“Can I ask you something a little personal?”

Sveta nodded. “Of course.”

“I wouldn't be asking this if it weren't this important, but… what happened between you and Fyodor?”

“That asshole. If I see him ever again, I will rip his head off,” she swore. “But, to make it short, I wasn't taken from my family just like that… Him and my father sold me to Dreykov.”

You covered your mouth with your hand. “I can't believe it.”

“It's true,” Svetlana confirmed. “He always knew what I was going through and never, not even once, tried to find me. Not to mention that they lied to my mother and told her I was kidnapped by my father's enemies. She fell ill soon after thinking they wouldn't be able to find me.”

“Sveta, I am so sorry to hear that,” You shook your head, surprised by the information and outraged for ever engaging with Fyodor. “I needed to talk to you about him. He's in New York, or maybe he already left.”

“He's here?!”

“Yeah. And… he did something to me, something unforgivable,” you added. “He was insisting on going out with me and we saw each other last night. He drugged me, and when I woke up, I was beaten and hurt by a man who was seeking revenge for Tarakanov's death.”

She just stared at you. “We will find them.”

“I ubit’ ikh.” you completed.

Matt didn't need to know Russian to understand you and Svetlana meant you wanted to kill Fyodor and Crosby for what they did.

What will happen when or if you find out they are already dead?

Will you ever realize Matt was the one who killed them?

What would you say to that?

taglist: @wh1sp

[aristaspark]

Gaslighting everyone into thinking Kenlynn is endgame

Chaos Theory Season 3 : Part 8

Finally getting around to posting a more *detailed* version of my Kenlynn are endgame thoughts.

Part 1 because I'm allergic to going straight to the point.

A little disclaimer because I think that it's necessary: this post is not meant to convince anyone of anything. It isn't me trying to convince myself either. I genuinely believe that in the forth season that is probably already fully animated as we talk, Kenji and Brooklynn get back together at some point. This post is just me laying out the elements that make me think that.

Most, if not all of it, will turn out to be wrong but I don't care, I like to theorize, that's fun!

Part 1: Brooklynn isn't in love with Darius.

While there are some things I am uncertain about - duh, I'm human - this might be the ONE thing no one will be able to change mind about.

If you only look at what's in the show (not relying on the false sense of security the popularity the ship has in the fandom brings nor the flawed belief that the writers took shippers' feelings into consideration when they wrote the show) everything that's actually on screen points towards Brooklynn only feeling platonic love towards Darius. I feel like people tend to forget THE TEXT, and only look at their scenes as being detached from the story and CONTEXT.

Firstly, her having feelings for Darius don't make sense chronologically. She has only spent a MAXIMUM of two weeks with him at the time he confesses. And this was right after her boyfriend broke up with her and she came home crying, throwing their picture in the trash because she was heart broken like a good romance movie heroine. She was in no mood to fall in love with anyone and her utter shock at his confession makes it clear that she had never considered Darius as anything other than a friend, these two weeks she had spent with him hadn't change that for her the way it had for Darius.

There's also that she only went to see Darius to fuel her obsession with her investigation. She made that face when she understood what was going on.

She recoiled.

She looked sorry for him, no sign of her being flustered, shy, lost in thought or enamored after he left.

She didn't even spend a second thinking about his confession after he left, she wasn't moved at all. She still expects him to help her with her investigation, because to her their relationship has no reason to change. She didn't feel any type of way about the fact that she was going to see him in the evening. She gets mad at him when he ignores her calls, doesn't give his feelings more credit.

When she sees him again in Senegal, she only reacts to his presence when they come face to face in person for the first time after he let her down, but when she sees him on the monitor (which would make it the first time she sees the man she supposedly loves after months apart), when she saves his life, or sees him above the arena, nothing. She never focuses on Darius.

They were adorable in season 3. But again. Brooklynn still prefers to do things on her own, Darius is not special in that regard, she rejects his offer at helping her. She doesn't treat Darius any differently from the way she treats Yaz and Ben.

When they separate, it's Darius who calls out to her, she was already on her way to leave.

She could have been the one to call out to him, she could have been the one needing that interaction with the person she loved, that would have shown that despite her always going off on her own, he is at least a little special to her, but no. She's treating Darius exactly the same as the others. She's pushing him away exactly like the others.

HE is the one always running after her, begging her to stay (what's funny is that when Kenji was the one doing it people used it as proof that he wasn't right for Brooklynn, but here it's crickets).

To me, but I know that other people opinions differ on that, the use of their nicknames feels like a re-affirmation of their friendship, a first step towards reconciliation. Like Darius will always be Dino-Nerd to Brooklynn, the kid obsessed with dinosaurs who was always her best friend, and Brooklynn, despite having been rejected by her, is still Superstar to Darius, the socially awkward girl with pink hair he struggled to understand at first but who later became his best friend. I feel like if they had used their names it would have said something else yk? Picture it, Darius calls her superstar, and she replies with "Good luck...Darius". To me it would have shown that there has been a shift in her perception of Darius. That she was no longer satisfied with him being her friend dinonerd, the name she wrote down on that post it while she was still in a relationship with Kenji, the name that he was registered as on her phone while she was in a relationship with Kenji, but that she now saw him as Darius. But I know that it's only my interpretation, that might or might not have been the writers' intention.

Brooklynn LOVES Darius, don't think I don't see the endeared way she looks at him, especially during season 3. But it's the key word, endeared. Endeared, as in opposed to "in love".

She looks endeared when she says "you too dinonerd", and I think that was what I tried putting into words in one of my previous posts but couldn't. It's like she's happy that he calls her superstar and that their relatonship hasn't changed despite everything that happened. The way she behaves with him just feels SO platonic to me. He gets her better than anyone else because he is and always was her best friend. They have a special bond, but to me it was NEVER shown as been a romantic one on Brooklynn's end.

As of the end of season 3 you have yet to show me a single element that suggests that her feelings for him have changed in the few hours she spent with him since the moment he confessed (as I'm POSITIVE she didn't love him during the confession scene).

Like, if she's in love with him, when did it happen? During the six months she was dead? It makes no sense because she spent 6 traumatizing months alone after that confession and her last interaction with Darius was her getting mad at him because he was ignoring her calls, demanding that he came for her investigation, not giving a damn about his confession.

I'm only looking at the actual story. They would be cute as hell because the trope is cute as hell, but it just doesn't fit with what was shown in the three first seasons. To me the only way for dinostar to happen would be to have Brooklynn fall for him/realize her feelings during season 4 (because I repeat myself, but there's no way she was in love with him before, at least not consciously). And with everything that's bound to happen, I don't see it happening, especially because of one...detail.

They are currently stuck in an helicopter, with Ben and Yasmina, who will probably leave them alone as quickly as humanly possible to allow them to get rid of the awkwardness that they are bound to display.

Dinostar WILL have a discussion at the start of the season, there's no way they won't. Darius even spoke about wanting to tackle the subject in season 3, so sorry, but them talking about their feelings is not shaping up to be that series final gran endgame ship reveal/pay off. And whatever that conversation holds for them, they will probably come clean about their feelings and as I said, I absolutely do not believe Brooklynn to be in love with him at this point, and her saying "I'm not sure" would feel extremely anticlimactic.

But let's imagine that somehow she's like, yeah Darius, while I was looking at my amputated arm, alone at Ronnie's, I realized that I actually felt the same.

That would make yet another thing Kenji would have to forgive her for.

We all have our beliefs about what ships will be endgame, but I think it's not too far fetched to say that in the end they will all be on good (if not great) terms with each other. Or at least cordial.

Brooklynn already has an endless list of things Kenji has to forgive her for if she wishes to someday be friends with him.

Seeing his dad behind his back. Neglecting him. Choosing her work over him. Secret appartment. Not telling him she was alive. Letting him mourn her despite knowing what it would do to him. Rejecting him after they see each other for the first time since she died. Choosing her work over him once again.

That's a lot to forgive if they want to be friends.

But then you would also have to add - falling in love with my adopted brother, your best friend, while I was still hurting over you and you were still treating me like crap, and deciding you wanted to be with him before we even had some sort of closure on our relationship, not even asking yourself if I would be ok with it.

And you know, you could take that endless list and throw it back at me and say, well, doesn't that only reinforce the idea that they have no chance of getting back together if the chances of them even being friends are this thin?

Well, that's the thing. There's this endless list of things Kenji has to forgive Brooklynn for, but I believe that these things all come down to one "big thing", that thing being the sole reason Kenji has currently given up on Brooklynn (someone counts the number of times I said *thing*).

I think the real reason Kenji is so mad at Brooklynn is that to him all her actions are all proof that she doesn't love him. This is what hurt him the most, this is the reason, to me, the real reason he broke up with her in the first place.

Just like his father didn't love him, the love of his life, the girl he loved for 6 years...also didn't love him.

He desesperately wished for her to prove to him that he was mistaking, that she did love him the way he loved her. He gave her the opportunity to prove it to him when he broke up (I can't be with you IF you're not going to be with me), but she didn't. He did it again in front of the plane, he made his heart vulnerable again because the fact that she was alive made him forget all the rest. She pushed him away. When I look at these two scenes I just SEE the set up being...yk, set up? This is right there, at the beggining of their arc: Kenji was waiting for Brooklynn to show him that he was mistaken and that she wanted to be with him - that she loved him.

But each and everytime her actions prove to him that she doesn't love him, so he ends up accepting it as a fact and thus gives up on her (the moment she pushed him away in front of the plane, which is why the focus was so heavily on them).

Which gave us season 3 Kenji, who has given up on her. She has proved to him that he was right, now he's done. You can see it in the way he talks about her that he genuinely believes Brooklynn doesn't love him/them. "She doesn't want anything to do with us" / "She sacrificed us willingly" / "She didn't look like she needed our help, or wanted it"

Now that I spoke about Brooklynn's feelings for Darius, I will talk about her feelings for Kenji in part 2 because I have way too much free time on my hands (I actually don't, that's the worst part 😂)

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Five

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This was my first attempt at smut (I giggled posting this, I am so excited!). I am new, but any advice is welcome! I tried something different with formatting (you'll see when you get there). I didn't want anything to be spoiled while ya'll rode the emotional rollercoaster that is this chapter. Let me know if it was weird and didn't work (or if it did that would be great!). I also added a link to the music found in a later part of this chapter in case you wanted to listen while you read.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Five - Night's Mistress

Content Warning: Blood, Blood Play, Murder, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Smut, MINORS DNI! (let me know if I missed anything else!)

The pull behind your navel felt foreign. 

It didn’t come with the taste of honey or the scent of daffodils like Rosie’s summons normally did. It didn’t come with a hint of sass or flood your mouth with spice like Carmilla’s. Crimson’s tasted of red pepper flakes and copper - a disgusting combination - but he was no longer an issue. 

This pull, however, was new and terribly, terribly… boring. 

Has one of your cards fallen to a rogue with sticky fingers? Has one of your holders died and a new holder taken their place? 

Whomever it was, the pull made you pause atop your perch overlooking V Tower. With Vox’s new Angelic Security soon to be released, you didn’t know how close you could get to the media demon’s headquarters. So you sat a few buildings away, scanning the horizon for any newfound technology that might impede your nighttime endeavors. 

There was another tug. 

Jesus, impatient much? 

You stood, stretching the stiffness from your legs. It was late, you’ve been out here for hours watching absolutely nothing happen. All the Vees like to do is sit, drink, and talk shit. Seriously what did they get out of their friendship? Was it friendship? Or were they all fucking? Ugh, you did not want that picture in your head.

Okay, time to go. 

You jumped, allowing the smoke to envelop your form. Feeling the pull, you headed toward the inner part of the city. Circling Heaven’s Clocktower, you broke off back toward the Magne District - the district that held the Hotel. Except you weren’t headed for your new home. The pull brought you left, almost to the border town but not quite, to an old tower.

In a plume of smoke, you landed on a balcony, the black swirls twirling about the landing before pooling over the sides. You were probably twenty stories up, the tallest building around. Not nearly as tall as V Tower - which the balcony gave you a great view of - but still, Pentagram City was striking. 

The balcony was connected to an apartment, reachable to the world only by an elevator at its center. Behind you was a wall of glass, heavy curtains preventing you from peering inside. On the balcony sat a small table, framed by two iron chairs. The setup was empty, except for your card which sat atop the table, a single drop of blood at its center. 

You took a step, your feet finding a puddle of red before you finally noticed the body. It was face down, scarlett flooding from a wound which wasn’t visible to you. It didn’t appear to be anyone you knew. Definitely a Human Sinner, but not one particularly interesting. 

So who in Hell summoned you? 

As if on cue, a zip of static runs across the back of your neck. 

Of-fucking-course…

“Ah, there you are,” Alastor emerges from the darkened apartment, shutting the door behind him with a kick of his heel, a smooth jazz playing on his radio.

Your heart skips a beat as his eyes find yours. Half-lidded, he smirks, a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of glasses in another. 

Your eyes flit between the dead Sinner on the floor and the red demon before you. “You did not use your own blood?" This was a first. Cardholders always used their own blood. Although not directly stated, it was implied. 

“Heavens, no!” The demon places the glasses on the table, next to the obsidian calling card, as he uncorks the bottle using the tip of his claw. “We barely know each other. That would be too…” His eyes slid to yours. You feel his gaze rake over your form eliciting a blush beneath your cloak. “Intimate.” 

Jesus. 

You stifle a sharp intake of breath. 

Get your shit together. You’re a fucking Overlord for Christ’s sake. 

You drop his gaze, eyeing the half-dead pile of blood beneath your feet. 

“Ah, apologies for the mess,” Alastor snaps and the Sinner, along with the blood, disappears. “Wine?” The red demon holds a glass out to you, liquid sloshing in its basin. 

You look at your boots before moving, noticing he even wiped the blood from their leather. How thoughtful. 

Goblet in hand, you finally join the Radio Demon in the chair adjacent to his, and gaze out to the City. 

It was quiet, the hustle of Pentagram City’s nightlife drowned out by his jazz. Funny, you thought it almost peaceful. Could Hell be peaceful? No. That would be an oxymoron. Hell was designed not to be peaceful by definition. Yet all the way up here, tucked far back from the rest of the chaos, you could pretend it was. 

The demon sits back in his chair, crossing his legs at his knees. You hadn’t noticed it before, but his shoes have a print on the bottom - a deer’s hoof. How fitting. 

The obsidian calling card sits between you, a drop of scarlet crusting on its surface. Letters in white slowly fade from the card’s edge, signifying the death of the card owner. Whoever the Hell Stanley Jenkins was, Alastor had killed him and used his blood instead. Smart actually, for the card comes with its own parameters…

And to the Sinners without a card? That was a bit trickier. Only a handful of obsidian calling cards were in circulation, and only cardholders could summon you at will. To the lower rung demons without the honor, they had to go through back channels. That’s what you used Rosie for. The Cannibal Queen knew all the best gossip in town, her network of information reached every edge of the Pentagram. She was your starting point for potential hits - you took care of the rest. 

“A toast,” Alastor holds his glass out to you. “To power and chaos.” 

You freeze.

The demon clinks his glass with yours.

You had not heard that phrase in a very long time. 

You look to the Radio Demon and watch as he sips his wine, the red liquid kissing his lips as he drinks.  

More importantly, where had he heard that phrase? 

And then it clicks. 

Lilith. You last heard that from Lilith. 

“It isn’t poisoned. I assure you,” Alastor purrs, bringing your thoughts back to the wine. “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.” The demon chuckles.

You shudder at the sudden static vibrating through your bones. 

You put a pin in this conversation - a mental note. You had more homework to do. 

You swirl the red around the glass, noting the alcohol crystals sticking to the sides. It was an older wine, a heavier red by the color. The liquid wooed you in scents of dark berry, cloves, and cedar. You could taste the tannins on your tongue before the liquid even hit your teeth. God, was it a thick red, so dry it left your mouth parched for more. Alastor couldn’t see your face beneath the hood, but if he could, he would see the moan you stifled behind closed lips. 

God, it was almost Heavenly. 

“One of my more everyday favorites,” Alastor smiled at the world below, his eyes sparkling with the reflection of City lights. “Although, I have far better in my cellar.” 

In my cellar. Your ears perked up at that, although you tried to hide it, the twitch of Alastor’s lips told you he had noticed. The Radio Demon knew something about you now: you liked wine. 

Was that what this meeting was all about? He wanted to gather more information on the Shadow? The way he made it seem at Carmilla’s was that there was a deal to be made. He thought you two could benefit from some sort of… partnership. Yet, you sit here and drink. 

This wasn’t how your deals often went. Usually, you showed up, and Sinners demanded action straight away. They practically begged you for your help, all too eager to make a deal. Lesser demons were pathetic, demons thinking themselves anything more attempted to look strong or intimidating, but the second they saw your eyes, they cowered. You’d like to think it the same as Zestial’s situation but you didn’t dare compare yourself to someone as great as him. 

Alastor, however, sat before you as an entertainer, a flatterer, a narcissist obsessed with his image. He didn’t just want to make a deal with you - if he did at all - he wanted to put on a show. Offering you a drink and a lovely view of the City communicated to you that he didn’t see you as a threat, but you already knew that. The question then was, did he respect you, and why did it bother you so much not to know? 

You turned the bottle to read the label: Stag’s Leap. How fitting. 

“Have you read the Allegory of the Cave*?” Alastor posits. 

You nod. Of course, who hasn’t read Plato? 

“When the man leaves the cave and makes it to the surface and is finally disenchanted with the shadows below, why do you suppose he returns?” Alastor takes another sip, waiting for you to answer, because he genuinely cares as to what you have to say. 

“To free the two he left behind,” your voice growls. 

“Hmm,” he ponders. “I supposed that as well, but never understood. To have the power of knowledge and to then share it… To not take advantage when it benefited him so. I see it as a tragedy.”

“Perhaps it is the Humanity in all of us.”

Alastor’s eyes flashed. “And if there is no Humanity left?” 

“Return…” Your lips curled, “and kill the other two.” 

Alastor tipped his head back and laughed, a deep chuckle from his chest. No laugh track followed. Was that genuine? A real laugh from Alastor and not the façade of the Radio Demon. Your heart skipped a beat in your chest at the thought. 

Focus! 

“Alastor, why have you summoned me?” 

The Radio Demon’s lips faltered ever so slightly, his cheery attitude hardening. He thought a long moment before answering. “It seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament.” He places the glass on the table and folds his fingers in his lap, his attention on the City below. Your eyes follow his, all the way to V Tower. 

Ah, yes Velvette and Vox. 

“Velvette can be quite the troublemaker.” 

“And Vox can be quite the thorn.” You counter, taking another sip. 

God, the wine was so good. 

“I have… information worth your while.” His teeth shined. 

“And in return?” 

“A quid-pro-quo. I have been gone a long time, but my relationships with those I am… close with have held strong. That is the perk of being as old as I am. I am tried and true. You are new blood, officially worth a seat at the table. That seat will be tested.” There was an edge to his words now. “Do not take Velvette’s silence for inaction.”

You did not. 

Yet, what could Alastor know that you have not yet uncovered yourself? After all, you have been watching them these past few days. Surely something would have come up by now. 

You scoffed, finding the underlying meaning in his words. “Is that what happened with Vox?” 

The Radio Demon stiffened. There it was, a hint of that barely contained anger. Oh, how you would love to see it unleashed.

You sniffed, searching for the scent of rage, of jasmine green tea - the main reason why you loved the drink. Yet there was nothing. Irritation prickled your skin. You have never been able to not read someone before. What made this Sinner so special? 

“That is what you want from this… partnership, is it not?” You prod, hoping he will give away something, anything that might clue you in as to why you are here. 

The demon returned to his wine, a muscle in his jaw flickering with agitation. He didn’t like appearing weak. 

Narcissist. 

“The plans I have in mind are far bigger than that poor excuse for an entertainment system.” 

You snorted. 

Alastor’s strained smile softened. 

Hmm, a quid-pro-quo, huh? Still, he hasn’t said what he wants out of this deal. 

You took another sip to think, noting your glass was already empty. 

The Radio Demon cleared his throat, wine bottle in hand, gesturing for your cup. His fingers brushed yours as you handed him the glass, sending a wave of static through to your core. You pulled back too fast, bringing your arm to your chest. The demon’s eyes gleamed in amusement. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You are not afraid of the Radio Demon, so why were you acting like an idiot? Never let your weaknesses show and you just gave him a clear indication that he intimidated you. You are a FUCKING OVERLORD. 

Why was this not easier with a mask on??? At the Hotel, you didn’t back down, but still, you let him think less of you. Not here. Here you are the fucking Shadow, you didn’t have to pretend. You had no reason to be so nervous. 

So why was the smile on his face and the look in his half-lidded eyes making your heart do backflips in your chest? Why was it when he handed the glass back you were conscious to not let your fingers touch his? Why were you so grateful for the space between you two yet also so, so irritated by it? 

“You still have not told me what you seek to gain.” You prayed your voice didn't sound as unnerved as you felt. 

His smile went cockeyed. “A mutual agreement. We stay out of each other’s way, yet seek out the other when we can benefit equally.” 

That didn’t sound like a partnership. That sounded like an alliance. Is this the same type of deal he had with Rosie? Interestingly, they seemed more like friends than something so surface-level as an alliance. Perhaps it started out that way and blossomed into one? 

The butterflies in your stomach kicked up in a flurry. The Radio Demon thought you were worth his time. Your cheeks heated. He thought you could help him - in some sort of capacity. God, why did that make you wanna squeal like a small child? 

“I will not be signing a contract,” you warned. 

Rosie informed you of Alastor’s contract crafting abilities. The demon was meticulous, bordering on obsessive when it came to exacting details. Line-by-line he would work and when it was finally done, the deal would appear flattering in what it would have to offer. Somehow, Alastor always made it seem like it was you who was the one to benefit. Yet, that was never the case. It was a trap, a beautifully disguised ploy which demoted you to a creature privy to his whim. Alastor was a master and the signee his pet - he would have it no other way. 

You’d die before you signed anything he authored. 

The demon laughed. Yet, underneath, there was a hint of irritation. “Oh, no. I did not expect that, I assure you. Ours will be one of a verbal agreement.” 

You let that marinate. He won’t be getting your name, but an agreement will still be made, and in Hell, that was a very powerful thing indeed. You’ve made plenty of verbal agreements before. Fuck, every hit you contracted was a verbal agreement - silence and the contractee’s soul in exchange for murder. The terms you set were quite simple, actually, yet strong enough to have kept any hint, any suspicion of who you are and how to find you, out of the mouths of Pentagram City’s most powerful. Yes, the media did try to track you down, even attempted to hunt you at one point, but they haven’t gotten very far. And they never will if you had anything to do with it…

You took a sip, letting the flavors melt off your tongue one final time, before standing and offering a hand. 

The demon’s eyes lit up with a crimson fire, his lips curling at the edges. He looked far too eager for this deal and that made you hesitate. 

Dealing with Alastor was like dancing - a dance you both pretended not to be leading but also refused to be the follower in. It was a game of power, you see. Yes, dancing had its steps and rules - a waltz is a waltz after all - but the direction it was going, the added flare to the spins, the story the choreography told - that was where you battled. Thus, you needed to be a half-step ahead of Alastor at all times - without him knowing, of course - until either the dance ended or you found a way to end him. 

The Radio Demon took your hand, and as you gazed into his eyes, you watched his pupils dilate. The glow of your yellow irises reflected in their dark center, an aura of red encircling your hooded form. A river of blue and green exploded from where your hands touched, twirling about you like the eye of a beautifully destructive hurricane.

The wind whipped Alastor’s hair about his face, his smile never faltering, his eyes never leaving yours as a connection snapped between the two of you. Like a thin string bridging your souls, you could, for a moment, feel Alastor on the other end, feel his static radiating from his core before the connection faded entirely.  

It was done. 

“A pleasure,” he purred. 

You attempted to step back and break away from his grasp, but the demon responded by clamping down and pulling you to him. You stumbled, your other hand coming to his chest to prevent your fall. The hood atop your head shifted back ever so slightly, but not enough to reveal your face or to give away anything underneath. 

The shadows engulfing your feet twirled and twirled about you, yet you remained frozen. Alastor was a solid wall of muscle beneath his suit; even with gloves on, you could feel the marble from which his chest was sculpted. You took a breath before you pulled your hand away before your brain finally caught up with the rest of you.

“Beautiful,” Alastor’s voice deepened. 

You dared a glance from beneath your hood and found the demon’s eyes locked on the silver embroidery of your cloak. With his other hand, he ghosted over the trim, his fingers tracing the hard edges of the stitching. Yet, at no point did he actually touch the black fabric. If he did, his fingers would phase through it, just as Velvette’s had at the meeting. 

Without saying anything, he dropped the grip on your fist, freeing you from his clutches. You stumbled backward, grasping your hood and pulling it forward to ensure it stayed in place. Alastor couldn’t remove it, but that little stunt he pulled almost ruined everything you had worked for. 

Your body grew cold as you backtracked to the railing, your little meeting coming to an end. You watched as Alastor’s grin turned into a lopsided smirk as he shoved his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly watching you flee.

Your instincts were screaming again, but this time, they were telling you not to let the demon out of your sight. 

Passing by the table, you noted the obsidian calling card. He would use it to summon you from here on out, but he would never be using his own blood. His real name would be made to you then, and he would never risk that. 

Take advantage of the power given, was what he recollected from Plato, and use it to slaughter others. 

“Velvette is using a third party to buy weapons from Carmilla Carmine,” the demon finally spoke, breaking the tension. He turned to the skyline, absentmindedly analyzing V Tower as he talked. “The female Vee, however, is not the fighter of the group, she leaves that to Vox and Valentino. Velvette destroys by reputation. She is not much to fear if armed, but if privy to certain information, she will use that to destroy her enemies.”

A.K.A do not let her find out who you are. 

You paused as your back hit the railing. You let your shadows build beneath your feet before you jumped in order to conceal your form as you flew. “Vox’s Angelic Security is in place but not online. It expands two blocks from V Tower. If anyone were to make a move, he would see it coming.” 

The Radio Demon nods. He pauses a moment before adding, “Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. How the Hell did he know that? 

“Carmilla is monitoring the Vees,” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed hold of the railing. “She doesn’t want them making a move against Heaven.” You needed to get away. This meeting was getting dangerous. Losing your cool and almost losing your hood in the span of minutes? You were never this sloppy. Alastor made you sloppy. 

“Interesting,” his voice stopped you again. 

You spun, raising an eyebrow in question. His lopsided smirk only grew. “You didn’t ask me how Carmilla killed the Angel.” 

Fuck. He knew. He knew you already knew. He didn’t have to look at you to see the surprise in your eyes, he had figured it out by your response alone. 

“Goodnight, Alastor,” you gave a shallow head bow before jumping off into the night, Alastor’s fucking grin following you into the sky. 

____________________________________________

It was late when you returned. You took a few extra spins about Pentagram City before heading back, trying to collect your thoughts on everything that had just happened. 

You had surmised two important things: One, Alastor’s absence wasn’t just about Lilith. The demon somehow knew Lilith. Perhaps it was because of her that he left in the first place. Which you already somewhat suspected, but this confirmed it. Two, Alastor wanted the Vees dealt with, but he knew he couldn’t do it alone. 

A quid-pro-quo in taking out the Vees. Now, things were getting interesting. This didn’t derail your plans, however, little Ms. Morningstar was still heading in the direction you needed her to go for everything to work. You didn’t need the Vees for the endgame - you had other powers in your back pocket with far more influence than the three of them. Plus, the connections you were making at the Hotel were going swimmingly. Soon, not yet, but soon, you’d implement the next phase. 

Oh, if only Father could see you now - wherever the Hell he was. Did he fall to Hell or was he somehow topside? No. You’d know if he was down here with you. You’d feel it in your bones. Wherever he ended up, you were going to find him and you were going to make him suffer for everything he put you through. 

You weren’t just going to kill him - oh, no. He didn’t deserve a quick and clean death. It was going to be slow and torturous. You were going to make him feel every ounce of the pain he put you through and more. You’d take your time, after all; why rush? Hours, days, months, years; what use was putting a timeline to his punishment when it would never make up for what he did? No. You’d take your time pushing him to the edge, and when he was on the cusp of eternal darkness, you’d heal him and start all over again.   

Perhaps you did have a flair for murder like the Radio Demon. Your creative outlets were just significantly more specific - lying in wait for the perfect muse. 

Wrapping your fingers around the edge of the window pane, you quietly slipped inside. With a snap, your leather gear and cloak slipped into the Void, replaced with a silk pajama set: a tank top and shorts bordering on just too short. Scandalous, but you enjoyed burying yourself beneath layers of blankets while you slept. Any more clothing and you’d wake up sweating. 

Going for the bathroom, you turned on the light and paused. In the reflection of your mirror, you saw it: a red box wrapped in black ribbon. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Someone had been in your room. 

Hesitantly, you made your way before the coffee table and found a card perched atop the neatly wrapped bow. 

You leaned in and sniffed the package - Nifty. You were going to have to touch base with the Hotel cleaning lady after breakfast. From day one, you had made it quite clear - to her great disappointment - not to clean your room, let alone enter it. Perhaps you weren’t clear enough, for she felt it acceptable to leave this here as opposed to outside your door.

Doing a circle about the space, you inspected the sealing runes which kept certain individuals out, eyeing the shadows just in case. You had hidden the ancient magic in concealed places, even buying a rug to cover the one at the base of your door, and kept your most important things in your Void. It wasn’t the best place to store your leather and cloak - especially after the moth infestation a few years back - but it was a necessity at the moment. 

Then you went for the present. Pulling the black ribbon atop, you jumped back as the box split into fours, revealing a small radio. It was of a classic design and cathedral in shape, carved from mahogany and detailed in yellow and red. The device was simple, with only two buttons: an on-and-off switch and a volume dial. No tuning dial to change the channel? No chord to plug it in?

Fuck. How did he know? You racked your brain trying to figure out when and to whom you talked to regarding your sleepless nights. Rosie knew, but you hadn’t specifically discussed it with her lately. Did you say something to Husk in passing? To Angel while you were bitching at breakfast? 

Hesitantly, you turned on the device. A pleasant, smooth jazz echoed through the speaker: Paul Whiteman’s “Sleepy Time Down South.” Hilarious… The Radio Demon has a sense of humor. At least it wasn’t the screams of blood-curdling murder. 

After inspecting the radio three times over, you deemed it not a threat - although you kept it far away from your bed as you crawled beneath the sheets. With a snap of your fingers, the bathroom light turned off, plunging you into a cocoon of darkness, enveloped by the lullaby of sweet jazz…

____________________________________________

At some point in the night, you awoke, your mouth parched and throat dry.  

🎶 It’s not the pale moon that excites me 🎶

Alastor’s radio switches over to a new song, the music seeming to follow you as you make your way to the kitchen. The hallways were silent, the Hotel Natives snoozing away in the late hours of the night. 

🎶 That thrills and delights me 🎶

You pass by the library as a zip of static runs its way down your spine, stopping you in your tracks. Alastor stood before the fireplace, flames roaring in its hearth, casting an eerie glow throughout the room. The demon faces the fire, his attention on the crackle of the logs as they whittled away into ash. He was still dressed in his three piece suit you saw him in only hours ago, his ears pressed flat against his head in irritation. Something was bothering him. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

He pretended not to notice you standing there staring at him from the hallway, but his shadow didn't. It zipped around your feet, twirling about your ankles in greeting, before practically dragging you inside the room. And when it had you well within the confines of the space, it flew to the doors.

🎶 It isn’t your sweet conversation 🎶

The shadow slammed them shut. CLICK! Then locked them. 

You were trapped. 

🎶 That brings this sensation 🎶

Alastor tilts his head over his shoulder, his half-lidded eyes landing on you. The demon looked royally pissed. 

This was it, this was the moment.

Alastor had figured out who you are. Your hood had fallen farther than you thought and he had seen your face and put the pieces together. He knew you were the Shadow, the mysterious new Overlord, here to challenge his grab for Princess Morningstar’s power. 

And he was going to kill you for it. 

🎶 Oh, no. It’s just the nearness of you 🎶

You didn’t hesitate to summon your blue flames, preparing for a fight, yet he moved faster than your mind could comprehend. Between one blink and the next, Alastor appears before you, his hand wrapping around your throat so tight you choke on the lack of air. Grasping at his arm, you dig your claws into his skin, your demon form summoning, as you melt the red fabric with your flame. But he is unphased by the heat, pulling back and slamming you so hard into the wall that spiderwebs crack across the plaster. 

🎶 When you’re in my arms 🎶

You try to summon more flame to burn him down to the very core of his soul like you had done to thousands of Sinners before, but the blue fire does nothing to his skin. It singes the red fabric, turning it black, but his skin beneath is unharmed. 

Shit.

🎶 And I feel you so close to me 🎶

The demon leans in, a low growl emanating from his chest, his teeth glinting in the firelight as his eyes hone in on your neck. As the blood pumped through your jugular, you watched his pupils dilate and fixate on the vein. He was a Cannibal, a predator, a killer whittled down to pure instinct. Everything within him was screaming kill, kill, kill.

🎶 All my wildest dreams came true…🎶

Your lungs screamed as you choked out, “Alastor.” It was weak, barely a whisper, but it was enough to draw his gaze from your neck to your eyes. In his pupils, you saw yourself desperate and bordering on losing yourself to the darkness threatening to close in. Despite the fight you felt in your bones you looked terrified.

🎶 I need no soft lights to enchant me 🎶

His name slipping from your mouth, the quiver he saw in your lips, had cracked something within him.

🎶 If you would only grant me 🎶

His grip disappeared, allowing you a breath of air. 

🎶 The right to hold you ever so tight 🎶

You bent over, coughing onto the floor, sucking down breaths in gasps that make your eyes water. 

🎶And to feel in the night🎶

Standing, you held onto the broken wall, forcing yourself to stay on your feet, despite your knees threatening to collapse beneath you.

“Alastor, what the fuck…” And before you had a chance to finish your question, the demon wraps his claws around your chin and forcefully slams his lips into yours. 

🎶The nearness of you🎶

The kiss was anything but soft, anything but patient. The demon was hungry and starving, and only you could satiate his appetite.

His other hand presses your hip back against the wall as he kicks your legs apart, drawing a gasp from your lips. Alastor takes the opportunity to run his tongue across your bottom lip before snaking it into your mouth. His tongue finds yours, prodding, testing, tasting.  

He pushes you flush against the wall, his knee pressing higher and higher until it finds the pocket between your thighs, eliciting a gasp that turns into a moan as he pulls you onto him, forcing your clit in line with his leg. 

The demon smiles against your lips, finally releasing your chin to grab your waist, his fingers bunching in the thin material of your pajama bottoms. You take the opportunity to find the lapels of his jacket to give you something to grab onto as you arch into him, pulling him closer as you press your breasts into his chest. The demon growls, a deep rumble emanating from within as he bites down on your bottom lip. 

Copper floods your mouth, turning the kiss sweet, but for Alastor, it’s a frenzy. He was no longer satisfied with just tasting you. He had to devour you.  

The silky material of your pajamas was oh-so thin. No underwear or bra beneath them, you were practically naked as the tips of his claws sank into the meat of your hips, beads of red pebbling on your skin. 

God and the pain only added to the pleasure building between your legs, only made your head swim as his lips slid over yours, capturing every drop of scarlet flooding your mouth. 

The demon helps guide your hips as you ground your clit into his thigh, wetness seeping into the silky material before pooling onto his pants. The room flooded with the scent of warm vanilla.

This man had you soaked, had your lips dripping as you ground into him faster and faster, your pleasure building with each roll. Alastor finally released your mouth, his teeth finding your neck, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he teased. He ran his tongue along the dip of your collarbone, tracing it to the spot where your shoulder met your neck, before finally running it up to your ear.

You moaned when he took your lobe into his mouth, nipping at it with his teeth. Alastor instinctively rolled his hips, his cock tenting his pants, grinding on nothing but air. 

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough. The friction wasn’t enough. You needed more. Needed more of him to push yourself over the edge. 

“Al…” You breathed into his ear between moans, your fingers trailing down to the twitch in his pants, but stopping when you hit his belt. “Please…” You tugged.

The demon laughed, capturing your groans with his mouth before answering, “No.” 

You blinked. “No?”

The demon puts a hard stop to your hips, pausing your grinding and the build in your pleasure. He grabs your hand on his belt and captures two of your fingers in his mouth. Sucking with his lips, he circles your fingertips with his tongue, wetting them before guiding your hand back down to your clit. 

“I want to watch,” he smiles against your cheek before he wraps a finger under your chin and brings your face up to his. “Fuck yourself,” he commands. 

And you obeyed.   

Your two fingers find the apex of your pleasure beneath your shorts, and you moan, wetting your clit with his spit as you circle the bud.

You barely have to touch yourself, you’re already so close. 

Alastor does nothing to help, save for his gaze, save for his breath which matched yours. The demon’s eyes glittered with heat and desire as they bore into you. He could feel the pleasure radiating off of you, could feel it as real as you could feel his static on the other side of the bond you formed today. 

“Good girl,” he growled, his cock twitching in his pants with each moan that escaped your lips. 

“I’m close,” you whined, twirling your fingers faster and faster, feeling the pressure build between your legs. 

Alastor dug his claws into your skin, his gaze soaking up every look of pleasure on your face, his ears absorbing every moan, his cock hardening with every swipe of your fingers against yourself.

“Cum for me, darling.” The demon’s lips curled as he swiped the hair from your eyes, sticky with sweat. He wanted to watch as you sent yourself over the edge. He wanted to miss nothing.

And just as you reached your climax...

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...you wake up in bed, your screams of pleasure drawing you from sleep. 

Your orgasm spasmed through your body, your legs twitching as you rode the wave, your pussy clenching on nothing but air…

Fuck, it was the best orgasm you had ever had, nevermind that it was your first.

And when it was over and your mind sobered, you realized it was all a dream.

You never woke up for a glass of water.

You never found Alastor in the library. 

Grabbing a pillow, you launched it at the radio on the coffee table but missed by a mile. Burying your face in the sheets, you screamed. You screamed until your lungs burned because anything was better than acknowledging the truth.

Anything was better than acknowledging that you just had your very first wet dream, and it was of Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Muahahahaha! Remember it's a slow burn ;)

-> Chapter Six

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

*Plato's Allegory of the Cave

Tag List (Let me know if you want to be added):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff

[auroraharper]

Fanfic fiasco - Maxiel

Summary:

After successfully reuniting Charles and Carlos through an accidental fanfic leak, Kimi, Ollie, and Isack set their sights on their next broken pairing: Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo.

“Alright, gremlins,” Oliver says, kicking the hotel door shut behind him with the dramatic flair of a man about to launch a war plan. “Charles and Carlos are back together.”

“Confirmed,” Kimi replies, munching on Pringles. “Saw them holding hands in the Ferrari hospitality like teenage lovers who just survived a breakup montage.”

“Charles kissed Carlos on the helmet,” Isack adds. “In front of media. That’s like... fanfic endgame level.”

They all pause in reverent silence.

Then Oliver grins.

“Time to bring back the next power duo.”

Isack gasps. “You mean—?”

Oliver nods solemnly. “Maxiel.”

Kimi pulls out his laptop. “Give me ten minutes and a Google Doc.”

Chapter Two: Plot, Pining, and Poor Decisions

The title is “Red Flags & Red Bull”, and it is already spiraling into greatness.

They open with Daniel’s 2023 return. Canon-compliant for exactly three paragraphs before they start sneaking in feelings.

Kimi types:

Daniel watches Max from the corner of the Red Bull motorhome. Max doesn’t smile at anyone else like that—sharp, small, like he’s hiding it. Like it’s for him alone.

Ollie leans over. “Should we make Max jealous?”

Isack throws his hands up. “YES. Let’s make him spiral when Daniel hugs Lando.”

So they write a full scene where Daniel and Lando laugh over coffee and Max has an internal monologue that reads like a Taylor Swift song.

Then comes the towel scene.

Isack insists it’s necessary for emotional tension. Oliver demands there be eye contact and chest freckles. Kimi adds in a line about Daniel saying “You’re staring, mate” and Max just mumbling “Sorry.”

Then a silence.

A long, emotionally repressed silence.

Followed by:

“You never looked at me like that before.”

Oliver throws his pencil across the room. “WHY AM I FEELING THINGS.”

Kimi just keeps typing.

…………………………………

11:47PM. Empty pizza boxes. Whiteboard. Three gremlins in pajamas.

Oliver, arms crossed: “Okay, listen. If we want people to believe Max is in love with Daniel, we need a moment.”

Isack: “A devastating moment.”

Kimi, scribbling something on the whiteboard under Chapter 5 – Emotional Collapse:

“MAX CRIES. IN THE RAIN. WHILE DANIEL LEAVES.”

Oliver: “But like... not just sad rain. It has to symbolize something.”

Isack: “Like... the rain is cleansing his emotional repression.”

Oliver, teary: “Or it's hiding his tears.”

Kimi, cackling: “Yes. And Max says something super dramatic like—‘You’re still the only DNF I regret.’”

Isack drops his juice box. “STOP. THAT’S ILLEGAL.”

Oliver, literally pacing now: “Okay but how do we get them close again? We need proximity. Heat. Tension. Maybe... one hotel bed?”

Kimi: “Overdone. We do a spa day team bonding thing.”

Isack: “Daniel in a sauna. Shirtless. Max short-circuits.”

Oliver, gasping: “AND he says something dumb like ‘Hot in here, huh?’ and Daniel just goes ‘Yeah. Or maybe that’s just you.’”

Everyone: screaming into pillows

Whiteboard Now Reads:

🌶️ Chapter 3 – Spa AU 🛏️ Chapter 6 – There Was Only One Bed (But Make It Platonic Until It Isn’t) 😭 Chapter 7 – The Almost Confession ✈️ Chapter 8 – Airport Goodbye (feat. Max sprinting through security) 💋 Chapter 9 – Monaco Balcony Kiss 🍼 Chapter 10 – Optional Baby AU (Daniel + Max + tiny helmet)

Isack, very seriously: “We need to work on Max’s inner monologue. He needs to be a little... pathetic.”

Oliver, nodding: “Yeah. Like... he stares at Daniel’s Instagram at 2am and overthinks a heart emoji.”

Kimi: “He watches Drive to Survive to hear Daniel laugh.”

Oliver, wiping his eyes: “He’s just like me for real.”

Chapter Three: Chapter 7 (aka The Heartbreak Hotel)

The scene takes place in a hotel hallway. 2am. Post-race. Everything's too quiet. Max finds Daniel leaning against his door, jetlagged and half-smiling.

“I still remember Montreal,” Daniel says. “That day you laughed so hard you snorted Red Bull out your nose.”

“I remember you calling me your soulmate like it meant something.”

Max’s voice breaks. “It did.”

Cue slow burn tension and years of unresolved emotion exploding in one line:

“I would’ve stayed if you’d asked.”

And Max doesn't kiss him. Not yet.

He just says, quietly, "I never knew how."

The boys all sit there in stunned silence.

Isack wipes his face. “We’ve peaked. Emotionally. Spiritually.”

Oliver sniffles. “They’re just... two idiots who miss each other.”

Kimi: “We’re going to be so famous when this gets leaked.”

Oliver stares at him. “Wait. You didn’t password protect the doc?”

Kimi shrugs.

Chapter Four: The FIA Does Not Approve

It happens at Zandvoort.

Drivers walk into the meeting. The packets are handed out.

Max opens his copy.

Reads the first line:

“Max had never been kissed like that before—not by victory, not by adrenaline, and not by anyone who understood what it meant to leave.”

Max: “What the actual—”

Max freezes. “Wait. Is this about me and Daniel?”

Carlos, grinning: “Turn to Chapter 7. It’s the one where you say ‘I loved you since Montreal 2018.’”

Max, mortified: “I’VE NEVER SAID THAT—”

Daniel, who just walked in, reads one line and wheezes.

“You were my favorite race, Max. I just didn’t know how to finish you.”

Everyone: “OH MY GODDDDDDDDD”

Meanwhile, Kimi, Oliver and Isack? Sitting smug in the back with popcorn.

Daniel wipes a tear. “That’s… weirdly poetic.”

Max glares at him. “You like it?”

Daniel shrugs, smiling. “Maybe.”

Max blushes. BLUSHES.

Daniel: “Why am I in a towel on page four?!”

George is already LIVE on Twitch.

Lando: “Read chapter seven. You cry in chapter seven.”

Max: “I do not cry.”

Daniel, blinking at the paper: “You kinda do.”

And for the second time, Kimi, Oliver, and Isack watch as their fanfiction causes a literal breakdown in FIA order.

Max and Daniel leave the room—together.

No one knows what happens.

But that night, Daniel posts an Instagram story: blurry, smiling, Max’s shoulder in the frame, captioned:

“Chapter 8 in progress 😉”

Oliver collapses on the hotel bed.

“We’re too powerful.”

Isack, scrolling AO3: “We have five fanfics inspired by our fanfic already. One of them has 12k kudos.”

[alter-ego-xxx]

Opinion on Remus x Barty? I have sort of a vision for them: maybe Barty is fascinated by Remus's scars and Remus still won't admit how he got them. Maybe Remus is fascinated by how much Barty doesn't give a fuck about anything and wishes he could also not give a fuck sometimes. Maybe they're both desperate to find someone who will value them above all else cause they've never felt valued in their life (see: daddy issues). Maybe they're codependant and it's super unhealthy on both sides. Maybe they wanted the other one as kindof a replacement for Sirius / Evan cause Rem and B have just been let down one too many times by them OOPS maybe their relationship starts off as a coping mechanism for their own trauma but they just become toxic (i mean it's a ship with barty ofc it's gonna be toxic)

Thoughts? Sfw/nsfw, whatever comes to mind (i just wanted someone's opinion on this and you always have great opinions soooo here i am)

nsfw

Anon. I just saw your ask now (I'm sorry) but this. IS. EVERYTHING. Yeah. I haven't gotten these two out of my head for a few days now. It just... makes sense. I don't see them as an endgame type of thing but they just work so well. Like them getting high together, throwing some fists because they both have that rage inside them, having a messy and bloody makeout session that's kind of too violent for a 'normal' couple and then blowing each others back out, shagging away all the nasty thoughts from their brain?? Yeah.

They're big on daddy issues, you're right. So that word is like standard procedure whenever they're alone. I also think they both have something for blood and the messed up things like a cnc scene, maybe? They have these twisted thoughts and this rage that can't be let out otherwise, but they both still need the security of a safe environment, to know that the other would stop if one of them safewords... They're just so twisted and toxic, I can't get them out of my brain.

If someone has more thoughts about them, don't be afraid to spam my inbox, guys!!

[queen-paladin]

disclaimer: yes, I am complaining about cheating in media. Because, yes, writers have the freedom to create what they want but if the morality in creation is free for all forms of media, but no piece of art is exempt from criticism, and that includes criticism on personal moral grounds. I betcha if I said Harry Potter is good, actually, everyone on here would flood my blog telling me I am wrong because of the author's intense prejudice. That being said, I am criticizing cheating in fiction, If you don't like that, don't interact

So often lately I see period dramas where the husband cheats on the wife (ex. Poldark, The Essex Serpent, Queen Charlotte, The Great)...and not only do I despise the cheating trope with every fibre of my being to where I get panic attacks when I consume the media...but specifically with period dramas...

Do these writers not understand the greater implications of a husband cheating on a wife during these periods? More than just the humiliation and heartbreak in the case of a loving, good marriage just like it is today.

In the Western world, probably until certain laws were enacted in the 1900's, if a woman married a man, she was legally his property. She had no legal identity under him. She was financially dependent on him. Any wages she made would automatically go to her husband. Her children were also not legally her children- they belonged to the father. If the husband died, even if the wife was still alive, the children were legally considered orphans.

Women could only rarely gain a divorce from their husbands. In England in the mid-1800's specifically, if a wife divorced a husband she had to prove he had to not only cheat but also be physically abusive, incestuous, or commit bestiality. On the other hand, a husband could divorce a wife just for being unfaithful. Because, kids, there were sexual double standards.

Getting married was often the endgame for a lot of women during that time. Sometimes you couldn't make your own living enough- marriage was a way to secure your entire future financially, with more than enough money to get by. If you were a spinster and middle class, you could get by with a job. But if you are an upper-class lady, the one thing a lady does not do is get a job and work. So upper-class spinsters basically were dependent on their families to get by (ex. Anne Elliott in Persuasion faces this with her own toxic family). As strange as it sounded today, marriage gave them some freedom to go about since a husband could be persuaded sometimes more easily than a father and one had a different home, their servants, etc. A husband was your foundation entirely for being a part of society, and standing up as your own woman.

So if a husband cheated on a wife, that was a threat to take all of that away.

He could give a lot of money that could be used to support his wife and children to the mistress. He could completely abandon said wife for the mistress. And since the wife legally couldn't get a job as he still lived, she would be dependent on any money he would said- and that is IF he sent over any money.

He could take her to court and publicly humiliate her to get a divorce away from her (look up the separation of Charles and Kate Dickens, he would call her mentally ill and say her cooking was bad and that she was having more children than they could keep up with all while having an affair and divorcing her to be with the misteress). And even if the wife was the nicest, more proper, goodest, more rule-abiding never-keeping-a-toe-out-of-line lady in town...as a man, the law was default on his side (look up Caroline Norton's A Letter to the Queen which details exactly that, the poor woman had her earnings as a writer taken by her husband and was denied access to her children from said husband)

So yeah...even if there was "no love" between them (and anytime the wife is portrayed as too boring or too bitchy so He HaS tO cHeAt is brought up is...pretty victim blamey)

So yeah. Period drama writers, if you have the husband have an affair ...just consider the reality of these things and address them, maybe punish the husband for once (*gasp* men facing consequences for their actions?!?!!), and if not, just please find other options and other tropes and devices for once.

[lolitastories]

Missing

Steve Murphy

Javier, Steve, and I have been a team for the past year or so. Working together until Noonan moved me out to deal with the Cali Cartel. With Pablo ordering bounties on heads. Cali was smart enough to keep themselves ahead and hidden, so they were growing big. The ambassador wanted to stay one foot in the door while Javier and Steve solved the problem with Pablo Escobar. In the department I focused on security and strategy. Getting Escobar in The Cathedral was a “win” for us, so they no longer needed me to track him. “Good afternoon boys” I walk in trying to contain a smirk. “Heard you two got into some trouble.” Javier groans as he continues to grab his belongings. I walk in and lean against his desk.

“Don’t act too sad.” I laugh at his words. I moved my eyes over to Steve who looked serene? “But it's on you.” I whip my head towards Javier who only shrugged. “If our voice of reason had answered her phone, we would’ve been let off with a warning.” I scoff, shaking my head.

“Unbelievable!” I throw my hands in the air, unable to comprehend his way of thinking. “This is what I don’t miss working with you morons.” The guys were already used to my name calling so they weren’t fazed. Javier smirks, turning his whole body towards me. He opens his coat and takes out his cigarettes. “Just like you I don’t like the idea of Escobar sitting in his castle up on the hill. Having the comfort of doing his dirty work as his men, officers and military protect him. By letting the news out about the murder that happened at The Cathedral you not only poked the bear but you shoved it so far up its ass it created a wormhole. The ambassador is going to have hell with this.” I crossed my arm waiting for Javier's response but he only blew out the smoke before grabbing his things and walking out the door.

“That's why we needed to talk to you.” I looked up towards Steve who was setting his briefcase on the ground before straightening up. His eyes coldly moved from the ground until he met my gaze.

“I have a hard time believing that if I told you it was a horrible idea you would set the phone down and go to sleep.” He scoffs. No reply as we both stand there looking at each other. It was a normal feeling, having him close as our eyes spoke what our mouths swore to keep secret. “You’re happy about it aren’t you?” I cleared my throat looking around to make sure no one was peeking from the open door.

“I get to crack a beer and watch Escobar’s endgame on TV,” he said in a teasing tone. He walks over to stand a couple of feets away from me and the door. “My schedule won’t intervene with someone else’s.” I chuckle as I push myself off Javier’s desk.

“That means you will still be home when I don’t know-” I act innocently watching some coworker walk by. “When I get out of here late?” I turn my back to the door and let him see the smile playing on my lips.

“Whoever decides to stop by later tonight will have a drink prepared and a whole meal.” He walks closer towering over me. My mind wasn’t worried about anyone seeing us right now. His proximity always made my head feel like I was floating. “They always bring desert with them.” I feel my cheeks burning red.

“An apple pie?” I whisper.

“No.” He shakes his head immediately. His hand moves up to run his finger down my jaw until he is gripping my chin. “What they bring is always sweeter.” My hand grip his wrist pulling his hand down.

“Glad you two have an understanding,” I turn around and walk out the door. “Go enjoy your suspension.” I wave back not even bothering to look back but by hearing his slight chuckle I knew he was smiling. I walk down the hall and towards the security room. How the hell am I supposed to focus? “Fuck” I grunt throwing my hands up.

“You okay?” I pause, turning around to see Carla there. Her eyebrows furrowed. She will probably think I am some weirdo if I told her the truth. The truth being that I was going crazy with how horny I was right now. That being in whatever relationship situation I was in was so complicated. We both have demanding schedules so it was only a few times we could see each other since we no longer work together. That it was me and my job that kept us apart now. Got me trying to think how I can get myself suspended too.

“Yeah.” I gulped trying to resolve my dry throat. “You know-” I smile awkwardly. “Cali Cartel.”

“Right.” She laughs. “If you ever need a drink after work I know this amazing place-”

“I will take you up on that!” I say trying to walk away slowly. She smiles bigger, nodding. “Thanks Carla”

“Just let me know when!” She screams as I take a turn to walk away.

“Okay.” I give a thumb up. Walking away I shake my head to clear my mind. “The faster I get done here, the faster I go home.” I let out a sigh and picked up my pace. “How’s it going in here?”

“Nothing yet on your Cali Cartel.” Old news. I pat Wysession’s arm as I walk past him.

“Anything on Herrera?” I pulled a seat on where a couple of Wysession’s men were hearing out for anything to do with the Cali Cartel. The young guy shakes his head pulling his headset back on. I groan, throwing my head back. “I feel like this whole thing is useless.” I speak to myself.

“Don’t go thinking about going under,” I look up, finding the Colonel looking down at me with a smile.

“Not doing that shit again.” I push the chair back and go over to grab a drink. “Don’t want to risk one of his men recognizing me.” My undercover work was a success but I was among men who have changed teams and I don’t want to risk one of them knowing me and blowing my cover while trying to bring down the Cali Cartel.

“In my opinion you were a sight to see on TV.” He comes behind me and takes the drink I prepared. “You had a natural talent for it.” I shake my head. I don’t even bother making another drink.

“I prefer staying alive.” Reporters die quickly here.

“You have a long life plan with this job?” I looked over to see how amused he was.

“No, one more case and I am out. I have a long life plan then.” I am not from Colombia but since being transferred I have fallen in love with this land and some of its people. Unfortunately even after Escobar or the Cali Cartel is over, there is always going to be some asshole who thinks they can do better. The illegal trafficking or crimes won’t ever be over.

“Well don’t go making stupid decisions like you’re used to making.” He finishes his drink and walks off. I let out a deep sigh. I walk over to pick up the file set aside for me and walk to my office. Just a couple more hours to go. The clock ticked and my feet matched the second hand. It bounced up and down until I felt it no longer worked. I was in my own office so by now my shoes were discarded and my shirt too, leaving me in only my tank top.

“We got something,” My head shoots up to a young guy peeking into my office. I grab my shirt and rush out. I was giving it a couple of hours but if they truly got something on the Cali Cartel, it might be my second night in the office, fuckkkk.

“Hey!-woah-woah, it's me!” After I felt a little shove I grabbed my hidden gun and stood ready. I focused on the person standing with their hands up.

“What the hell Javier.”I placed my gun back and layed down again on my couch. “You are lucky I am a light sleeper.” I placed my arm over my eyes covering it from the office light. I felt his presence still there and with seconds going by I knew he was struggling to get something out. I let out a groan before kicking my feet over the couch and sitting up. “What happened Javier?” My eyes turned into worry when he couldn’t meet my gaze. “Spit it out Pena” I said more sternly as I walked over to him.

“Someone found Steve's car out of his garage. Keys in the ignition with the car idling.” My ears began to ring. “I don’t want to contact the embassy security,” I looked over to my office phone and there were no messages. 11 hours have passed since I last spoke to Steve. I was supposed to leave this place two hours ago at 10 but by the papers spread out on the floor I guess sleep got the best of me. “I checked all the area hospitals, police stations. I think-”

“Don’t say it,” I turn to snatch my shoes and put them on. “If he did then there are only two groups who could have done it.” Escobar or the Cali Cartel. “Did you report it to the Regional Security Office?” I look up while finishing tying my shoes as I see him shake his head.

“If I tell the ROS it becomes a five-alarm fire, and whoever has him might panic. I came here to ask if you can check your sources with Wysession, see what comes up?” I nod walking over to him.

“Stay here. I will see what I can do.” I rush over in panic. I couldn’t allow my mind to be fueled with ideas, wrong ideas. I should have been there and probably stopped this from happening. But whatever the case was, it happened and now we must find Steve.

“This is your second night straight I told you to go home-” I moved past the Colonel motioning him to follow me.

“I need you to check with the Colombian military. Steve is missing and it might be Escobar.” His lips fall into a flat line. He simply nods and rushes out. “Okay,” I whisper to myself. “Get me everything you got on the Cali Cartel for the past 11 hours.” I point to the people handling the security. For the following 2 hours or so I hear the conversation and intel from the team and nothing. Wysession finally makes it back and his contact has heard nothing.

“You should report it.” he said before I left to see Javier. I walk in to see him pacing back and forth.

“Wysession’s contact knows jack shit and Cali Cartel is radio silent.” I place my hand on my hip as I watch Javier stop.

“Okay-” He sighs. His hand moves up to rub his forehead in frustration. “Okay.”

“Javier, you need to tell Noonan-”

“I know!” I can tell he has been taking it rough. “Sorry,”

He meets my eyes and sympathetically walks closer to me. “I will. I-” I wrap my arms around him. He won’t admit it but Steve has become one if not the only person who he can call a friend. I don’t know what those two have done since I have been gone but nothing in this line of work is short of dangerous.

“Go Javi.” He pulls back and with a last glance he walks away. I take a seat back down and throw my head back. I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or the fact that my heart was beating faster than usual but I felt like I was close to passing out. I tilt my head over and see the seconds, and minutes pass by. 2:12 in the morning soon turned into 2:45. I took a look over the room and decided to head home, I wasn’t useful to anyone right now. I made it out to the parking lot until a voice stopped me.

“Think I can get a ride home?” It felt like my breath was just taken away. A shiver rushed down my body and once I turned around I felt a warm tear slip down my cheek.

“Hey.” My voice was barely audible. His hair was a mess, sweaty and going to different locations. His usual sad eyes with that damn half frown, half grin on his face.

“Hey.” He drew in a breath before I broke from my trance and rushed over to throw my arms around him. His arms rubbed my back as I sobbed into the crook of his neck. “I should get kidnapped more often,” I pulled back hitting his shoulder. “Geeze woman,” he laughed, rubbing his shoulder.

“Don’t joke about that Steve. Javier just told me about it less than 3 hours ago and see how that's got me?” His smile falls down and his eyes soften. His free hand moves to cradle my face and I close my eyes, tilting my head to his warmth.

“I'm sorry-” He whispers but I shake my head, cutting him off. I exhaled a deep breath before opening my eyes to meet his blue ones.

“I'm just glad you are okay and that I didn’t need to go to sleep worrying about you.” Truthfully I don’t think I would’ve gotten a good night's rest.

“I'm glad I can help you out,” A coy look appears on his face as he pulls me closer. “I prefer you going to sleep thinking about me and feeling something other than worry towards me.” I hear his teasing tone. I finally smile and grip him closer. With his body pressed up against mine I feel him slowly swaying us side to side.

“Disgust? Check.” He sneakers rolling his eyes.

“I was thinking what I felt when I first got to taste your lips,” His voice fell into a husky whisper. “Or the first time I got to taste you,” shit. My legs buckled like it was a command. “That feeling.” He chuckled, making me grip his suit jacket tighter.

“Steve, you need a ride?!” I push him away looking over to see Javier jiggling his keys. “Oh,” He tilted his head a bit seeing me appear. Steve was bigger so he was covering my figure. I look back over to Steve who even with the shity yellow street light I could see his jaw clenched. I look back over to Javier whose shoulder fell, something happened between those two.

“I got it Javi! Thanks.” He simply nods and turns to his car. I look back over to Steve  and decide not to question anything right now. He has had a long day. “Let's get you home and this time I will make sure you get inside.” I hit his chest playfully and turned towards my car.

“Yes ma’am.” He cleared his throat rushing over to my side. “As long as you stay with me tonight.” I smile, intertwining our hands together.

“Of course honey.” My head falls to rest on his arm as we walk calmly down to my car. It was nice to hold him in the fresh air. Times like this made me feel grateful for having him, maybe it was time to tell the world. Better to enjoy what I have before someone tries to take it away from me again.

[aloneinthehellfire]

The Introduction

A (possible) brand new series featuring Robin Buckley x Reader set in ST4

Summary: When Vecna comes to town, Robin and her friends need all the help they can get in the final battle. The gang searches for an old friend she's never met before. But what Robin didn't know, was that the help would catch her attention in more ways than one.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: canon deaths (mentions of vecna killings), reader appears at the end it is mostly a set up for the series, nothing really to report here tbh

[A/N: well hello there. I have *finally* storyboarded a new series that would be an episode by episode ST4 fic where Reader and Robin are endgame. It's something new and something I've been dying to create for a while now so I wanted to test the waters and see if anyone would be interested in reading this? I will literally take one person's yes and go with it, I am very persuadable]

The Introduction

Since when was it too much to ask for a normal spring break?

Robin had enough of the excitement in Hawkins last summer when she ended up in a secret Russian lab, tortured and shot full of some serum she was sure was unsanctioned.

The horrors of that day were flushed down that bathroom toilet along with those drugs, some kind of wave of reality hitting her hard when she realised she didn’t want to be alone anymore. She confided in her new friend, her closest friend, and hoped that it would end a horrible day with a weight off her shoulders.

And then she was crashing a car into a possessed guy and hurling fireworks at some freaky flesh monster. So, nothing good lasts forever.

But after that, it all had been pretty quiet. Robin worked Family Video every other evening and weekends, had Steve drive her to school for the first couple of weeks before it became a habit, secured her place in band and forgot that anything ever really happened. She didn’t want to remember. She wanted to graduate, to have that silly little crush on her bandmate, to save enough money to get out of Hawkins for good.

Then the first day of spring break hit. The first day. And she was stood there staring up at that TV, feeling nauseas in her uniform, knowing that the brutal death of a high school student wouldn’t be as simple as murder.

“So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news.” Dustin says awkwardly and Robin’s lips tighten, looking at where Eddie sat munching through Honeycomb cereal like it was his first meal in days. “How do you prefer it?”

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie responds with his mouth full.

Robin shifts on her feet. It would be dishonest to say that Dustin and Max dragged her into this. All they had done really was show up demanding their computers and a name. She didn’t have to help, or find the address, or go with them anywhere.

The urge to be a part of something always had been a habit of hers. The only reason she joined the marching band was because she figured she’d be safe there. The Russian radio communication was only of interest because she craved involvement. And now she had Steve, her best friend. Where he went, she followed. Which is why she was stood here now, contemplating her decisions.

She was scared, afraid that last year would have only been the baby of all problems she would have to face in Hawkins. And it was understandable, she wasn’t built for pressure situations. If anyone could take a look inside her brain, they’d be questioning why she was even here in the first place.

She has this theory where her mind and her body act completely differently. She’ll rethink everything until she’s overthinking it, but her body will never not react immediately. Whether its her mouth rambling or her legs running, her mind and body haven’t been in sync for a while now.

“Alright, bad news.” Dustin shifts in his seat and Robin exchanges a wary look with Steve. “We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.”

Eddie’s face falls and Robin hates seeing the way the light in his eyes dim even darker.

“Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”

“Like, 100% kind of convinced.” Max chimes in.

“And the good news?” Eddie looks for Dustin’s answer but Robin spoke first.

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet.” She says, resting her arm against a shelf. She really felt for him. He didn’t deserve this. “But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do, too. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie spits and Robin feels that little stab in her chest. Hunt the freak.

“Exactly.” She says and Eddie curses under his breath.

“So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.” Dustin tries to bring a positive note, Eddie’s face remaining unswayed.

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?”

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.” He concludes, the older boy looking very unconvinced. Robin can’t help but think that Dustin almost was as bad as she was in these situations.

“Listen, Eddie, I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kind of thing before. I mean, they have... a -a few times, and- and I have… once.” Robin adds, hoping that somewhere in her ramble there was a coherent message that he shouldn’t be afraid. “Mine was more human-flesh-based, and theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this.”

“Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers.” Steve follows her direction and Robin nods, “But, uh, those went bye-bye, so…”

Everyone’s faces start to scrunch in realisation.

Robin searches for words. “So, we’re technically in- in more of the…”

“Kinda…”

“Brainstorming phase.” Max decides and they all hum in agreement.

“Brainstorming.” Steve snaps his fingers.

“There… there’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin splutters and Steve nods along with him.

If Eddie had been following on at all before, he was completely lost now, looking at them like they were maniacs. They tried their best, Robin thought just as a high-pitched noise started approaching in the distance. Sirens.

“Tarp.” Robin immediately says, pointing to Eddie. “Tarp. Tarp.”

Everyone starts scrambling to their feet and rushing to the windows, Robin’s heart rate unusually high. She hadn’t even experienced what she would assume to be the worst of it yet and she was already hating every second.

Her eyes follow the police cars and the ambulances drive directly past the boathouse, further down the road. Towards the trailer park.

“Trailer park.” Steve mutters, on the same page as her.

“They might have found something new.” Max suggests, looking at her friends in worry.

“Or someone new.” Robin grimaces and they all frown. “The ambulance.”

“Shit, okay, we need to-” Steve turns around, “Hey, Eddie.”

The tarp comes flying off once again, his hair looking a little dishevelled as he still tightly hugged the cereal box.

“You gonna be alright here?” He asks, and the boy simply shrugs.

“We’ll be back when we find out more.” Dustin promises, nodding. “With food.”

Either he didn’t mind or was too freaked out to argue, but Eddie remained impartial on their decision. It was a matter of time before they’re all clambering into Steve’s car, following the same route the police had taken earlier.

“What if the place is completely cornered off and we can’t see anything?” Robin voices her worry, Dustin’s eyes flickering to hers in the rear view mirror.

“It’s too early for that. Plus Max lives there, we can just say we’re dropping her off.”

The girl in question nods her head, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth.

“Doesn’t look like we need to worry about that.” Steve says and everyone’s heads turn to look ahead, focusing on a familiar girl stood among the cops, looking like she wanted to be anywhere else.

Once the car stops, their doors are opened and they all stand, patiently waiting. Even from a distance, Robin could see Nancy’s face light up with gratitude that she wasn’t alone.

Just as Nancy makes an excuse to walk over, Robin’s eyes are already scanning the place, actively ignoring the sheet covering something on the ground. There was this pit in her stomach, an unsettling mix of regret and panic. Whatever they were dealing with this time, she knew it was going to take more than an array of fireworks.

They were alone now, any help shipped away to California, and she was still barely caught up with their previous battles.

Robin really didn’t remember life before sitting around a picnic bench discussing freaky incidents that always seemed to link back to the Upside Down. Maybe that day in the lab had ruined her brain chemistry in a way that reduced her life before as meaningless. Or maybe her life before just wasn’t any better. Either way, a police report of a dead student wasn’t normally followed by a theory of some weird mind wizard from an alternate dimension. Then again, anything was possible in Hawkins.

“So you’re saying that this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?” Nancy asks, but it wasn’t the same scepticism Eddie had.

“If the shoe fits.” Steve raises his brow with a sigh.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell, or... a curse.” Dustin says, “Now, whether or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

“All we know is this is something different.” Max frowns. “Something new.”

“Doesn’t make sense.” Nancy mutters beside her, looking down.

“It’s only a theory.” Dustin defends but Nancy shakes her head.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean… why them?”

Dustin shrugs. “Maybe they were just in the wrong place? They were both at the game.”

“And near the trailer park.” Max cuts in.

“We’re at the trailer park.” Steve comments, looking around. “Uh… should we maybe not be here?”

A shiver rolls down Robin’s neck as she peers around, the wind picking up at the worst moment. It was eerie here, even without the knowledge of two murdered kids.

“There is something about this place.” Nancy shares, “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”

Robin’s heart jumps. “Acting weird as in…?”

“Scared, on edge, upset.” Nancy explains, her brows permanently scrunched together.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too.” Dustin looks at her.

“Yeah, but not here.” She frowns. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

Robin’s mind began flittering around with theories, nonsensical ones for the most part until she pulled out something that felt comprehensible to their case.

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” Robin begins, forcing herself to reduce the speed of her words to ensure they were properly heard. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman.”

“Vecna.” Dustin corrects and she represses the urge to roll her eyes.

“I dunno about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.” Steve expresses.

“Maybe they did.” Max theorises, “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you… you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your-”

“Your shrink.” Robin finishes and the younger girl nods. “They keep files, right? Maybe something in Chrissy’s file will point us in the right direction of who, uh… Vecna is.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Max says and Dustin nods.

“But how are we meant to get it?” Steve frowns, “It’s the counsellor's office, wouldn’t they be locking that thing up tight? The whole school, even.”

“I can get the key.” Max says with confidence, “Ms Kelley said I could come to her house out of hours if I need it, maybe I can find where she keeps her keys and sneak out before she realises.”

Rather than question her alibi, it seemed like everyone was in agreement. They were off that bench in a second flat and following Steve to his car. Robin was trying to push away that fear of the unknown, the anxiety that they would find an answer they wouldn’t like.

She always loved puzzles, brain teasers, classic crosswords. Solving that Russian broadcast was a riddle she enjoyed, assuming it would be nothing but a small summer project to cure her boredom of the ice cream slinging world. But beyond games and word scrambles, she felt completely useless.

“Woah, woah, Nance.”

Robin snaps out of her haze to turn back around, her hand still steady on the passenger door.

“Nance!” Steve calls out and Nancy guiltily turns around from where she was straying from the group. “Nance, where you going?”

“Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” She dismisses, her footsteps still leading her back to her own car. She looked like a woman on a mission.

“Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin says and Nancy scrunches her face.

“I don’t wanna waste your time, it’s a real shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, okay. Are you out of your mind?” Steve expresses and Robin’s eyebrow raises. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need… you need someone to…”

There’s a pause and Robin’s mind is already drifting when keys are suddenly being hurled at her, only catching them in the last second.

“Here. I’ll stick with Nance, alright? You guys take the car, check out the shrink.” Steve says and she blinks at the metal in her palm.

“I don’t think you want me driving your car.” She points at it.

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

“Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor.”

“I can drive.” Max suggests and Steve is quick to protest.

“No, no, never again. Please. Anybody but you, no.” His eyes drift to Dustin’s smile. “No chance.”

“Look, if it helps, I’m not gonna be alone for very long, okay?” Nancy interjects with a smile. “I… I need to call in a favour.”

“Call in a favour?” Steve frowns, “Who?”

Nancy purses her lips and looks down, shrugging. Robin notices Steve’s stance shifting into one she had labelled ‘the annoyed babysitter’; hands on hips, a slight furrow in the brows and a pouty lip. She had to refrain from pointing it out as she had done many times before, usually resulting in a random object thrown at her head.

“Y/n.” Nancy eventually says and Steve groans.

“No, come on. Literally anyone else.” He protests, shoulders dropping in defeat.

“What’s wrong with Y/n?” Dustin frowns, shaking his head.

“She’s just…” Steve sighs, not bothering to finish the sentence. Robin mouths your name, no familiar face ringing a bell.

“Whatever she is, she’s saved our asses on multiple occasions.” Max spoke up, Dustin nodding in agreement.

“It’s…” Steve starts, shaking his head. “She’s not even in town, is she?”

“She’s visiting her grandparents.” Nancy shrugs. “Look, we don’t have time to argue about it, I’m heading to the library.”

“And what if you don’t make it there, huh?” Steve objects, “What if Y/n is busy? Do we really want to drag another person into this?”

“We need all the help we can get.” Nancy says.

“Do we really want to drag Y/n into this?” He rephrases and Robin watches Nancy’s eyes dart away. Whoever you were, you were a sore subject it seemed. But they didn’t have time to be arguing about this.

“All right, okay. This is stupid.” Robin finally breaks, snagging the exposed radio from Dustin’s backpack and thrusting Steve’s keys back at him. “Us ladies will stick together. Unless you think we need you to protect us.”

Steve pulls a face at her and she laughs, already walking away.

“Be careful!” He shouts after her and she throws up a peace sign.

In all honesty, she was relieved to be heading to a library instead of sitting around in a silent car with her own thoughts. Anything but that.

“So, um… who’s Y/n?” Robin queries as Nancy starts up the car.

“An old friend.” She explains briefly, waiting until the others had driven off before following them out.

“She wasn’t at Starcourt, right?” Robin frowns, repeating your name in her head over and over.

“Uh, no. I don’t think you would’ve met her. She was with me and Jonathan, at the hospital, and…” Her voice trailed off, lips tightening.

“And?” Robin prompts but Nancy simply shakes her head with a smile.

“It doesn’t matter.”

As she looked over, she could just read a hint of guilt on her expression, a hard stare on the road ahead as she turns towards the public library. Robin wasn’t always the greatest at reading social cues, only when she was rambling and paying more attention on getting her thoughts out than how people were receiving them. There was something different about the way they were talking about you, however, like there was something unspoken.

The first thing Nancy did was find a phone.

Robin could just make out Nancy’s expressions in the payphone as she stood waiting by the car, her brows scrunched and mouth constantly moving. When she finally hung up, she wrapped her arms around herself and headed back to the Robin, nodding.

“She’s meeting us in a few minutes.” She explained, and Robin figured she didn’t want to talk about it any further. So, as she made a turn to the library, Robin decided on a different bugging query.

“Okay so, help me get this straight.” She starts as they climb the steps, the bell tolling above the building. She was recalling Nancy’s brief summary on the drive over. “Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, thinks that Victor Creel escaped from Pennhurst Asylum and that he’s the one running around Hawkins committing all these murders?”

“Pretty much.” Nancy responds with a tight-lipped smile. Robin wasn’t finished.

“But Victor committed the eyeball murders, like, way back in the ‘50s.” Robin frowns and Nancy pulls open the door.

“Well, ‘59.” She says.

“So, that means these murders predate Eleven in the Upside Down by about 30 years?” She continued as they walk up to the librarian’s desk.

“Yeah.” Nancy responds bluntly.

“Which makes spooky Victor Creel like 70 years old.”

“Yep.” She reaches out and dings the bell.

“So…” Robin keeps talking, occupying her brain with this theory so she didn’t have to worry about anything else. “He’s a grandpa murderer who can turn invisible and lift people into the air.”

Nancy takes a breath. “It doesn’t make sense. I know. That’s why I said it was a shot in the dark.”

She rings the bell again and, once again, Robin doesn’t catch the hint Nancy’s throwing her way.

“I know. I just thought that by ‘shot in the dark’ you were being modest or hiding something super solid up your sleeve that you were gonna wow us with later.”

Nancy rings the bell twice this time but Robin barely registers it.

“But this is really, truly a shot in the dark. Like, we are snipers with blindfolds on who’ve been spun around 50 times.”

She starts ringing the bell rapidly and Robin looks down at it with a frown, finally realising she’s yet again talked too much.

“Coming!” The librarian calls out, carrying a stack of books.

“Hi, sorry, we’re in a bit of a rush.” Nancy smiles apologetically at her, “Could we get the keys to the basement archives?”

“Of course. Give me one sec.” The woman nods, turning away.

Robin stares down at her hands before the anxiety takes over.

“Did I come off mean or condescending or something?” She blurts and Nancy hesitates.

“No.”

“Right.” Robin sighs, still staring at her, “Sorry. It’s just, you seem annoyed. You don’t know me very well. I don’t really have a filter or a strong grasp of social cues.”

“Okay.” Nancy whispers.

“So if I say something that upsets you, just know that I know it’s a flaw. Believe me, my mother reminds me daily.”

Nancy nods quickly, pretending to be interested. “Got it.”

“Alright, ladies.” The librarian returns with a smile, holding out a set of keys. “Here you go. Have fun.”

“Yep.” Nancy accepts them, forcing a smile. “We’ll… try.”

She starts walking away while Robin remains there frozen, earning a grin from the woman opposite. Robin simply shrugs and begrudgingly follows Nancy.

The archive room was… dusty. A little too dusty to Robin’s liking. Everything was old and smelt weird. Nancy starting looking over some books, inspecting the covers before spotting the Microfilm Readers.

“We should probably get a start while we wait for Y/n.” Nancy says, sitting at the machine and Robin hesitantly leans against it, pursing her lips. Nancy notices and looks up at her, already anticipating another ramble. “Yes?”

“So… Y/n?” Robin holds out her hands, “I don’t want to keep being nosy but, uh… how does she fit into all of this?”

Nancy reluctantly turns towards her with a smile. “She’s been a part of our, uh, group for a while now. Since Will was possessed.”

Robin blinks. “Right.”

“She was the one who figured out heat was their weakness – the things that live in the Upside Down. I’ve known her since we were kids and she’s always been amazing at…” Nancy searches for a term, “Detective stuff.”

“Detective stuff, right.” Robin nods and Nancy slowly turns back to what she was doing. “So, like…”

Nancy sighs and Robin shuts her mouth.

“Sorry, I’ll shut up.” She raises her hands in surrender and Nancy scrunches her face.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s just… I haven’t seen her in a while so I… I’m not trying to be rude, there’s just a lot going on.” She explains apologetically, surrendering her attempt at scrolling through the machine. “I can’t believe I’m dragging her into this.”

“Why are you?” Robin asks genuinely and Nancy tilts her head in contemplation.

“She did a project a few years back on the Creels.” Nancy begins, resting her chin on her hand. “She was researching into small town murders. Y/n was obsessed with the unexplained ones. She likes uncovering truths, solving the mystery. I don’t remember how far she got with this but she’ll have more than enough information to get us started.”

“Right, right.” Robin slowly nods, thinking it all over. You weren’t the new addition she assumed you would be. In fact, she was the only one here who was really new to everything.“Should I be here?”

“Sorry?” Nancy frowns.

“I mean, it sounds like you two are pretty close. And I- I don’t want to ruin the reunion or whatever, I don’t even know how to- I suck at meeting new people, basically.” Robin stresses, holding up her hand when Nancy tries to protest, “I already know. Everyone I meet pretty much hates me from the get go. I’m already ruining it with you and we’ve literally met before. Briefly. But still, I- I don’t know this Y/n and I don’t want to annoy her out of helping you-”

“Robin.” Nancy laughs, “It’s fine. Y/n isn’t like that. To be honest… you’ll probably get along.”

“What does that-”

Her words are cut off by the sound of the door opening and slamming shut, the wooden steps creaking beneath the weight of descending footsteps. They both whip their heads to the noise to see someone stood there with a folder in their hands.

“Got here as fast as I could.” You say, letting out a breath and smiling Nancy. You quickly notice the girl standing beside her with a startled look on her face. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, you- we were, just- I’m Robin.” She stuttered, her face flushing with embarrassment before she turns away from you. Calm down, she begs herself.

Nancy looks at her in confusion, “Are you-”

“I’m good.” She insists and Nancy shakes her head, getting up from her seat.

“Hi, Y/n.” She smiles, walking over to you. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” You say, but your heart didn’t really feel in it. “I brought the project you wanted. It’s got the newspaper reports from the original killings. If that’s of any help.”

“It is, thank you so much.” Nancy takes it from your hands and starts flipping through, carefully reading each of your headings and findings.

You shift on your feet before glancing at Robin, her eyes widening slightly when you look at her.

“I’m Y/n.” You offer and she nods quickly.

“Yeah, I, uh, I know.” She laughs awkwardly, “Nice to put a face to the name.”

An incredibly gorgeous face, Robin screams inside. Of all the problems she was facing today, this shouldn’t be one of them. Monsters, Russians, that was pretty much up her alley right now. Sudden introductions of pretty girls that literally took her breath away? Not on her bingo card.

Robin noticed the tension in the air between you and Nancy, that same unspoken theory recycling in her mind. What happened last year? Why weren’t you there at Starcourt? Why were you back?

She didn’t really know if she would regret knowing the answers. All she knew was that you had been here all of two minutes and Robin already felt like you were going to change her life.

Because, you were. In more ways than one.

Update: The Pariahs That Saved The World

[if you want there to be more chapters, pls comment below or leave it in my asks to be added to a taglist, i don't want to post something no one wants to read <3]

[choster33]

Bridgerton S3 Episode 4 Reaction

So I finally watched the last episode of Part 1 and it was everything I wanted it to be! It was so steamy and full of Colin angst. I am going to write and react about what I saw so if you want to read on!

First off, the rest of the Featheringtons are trash. They're hilarious, but horrible sisters and mother to Penelope. I will one day write an essay about the trauma that Pen has gone through and etc. because ugh. Now on to Lord Debling who is adorable with his plant present.

Yes a nod to Penelope sitting at that settee and enjoying the view of Bridgerton House aka where her love Colin is at. I think she isn't leading Lord Debling on here, she genuinely is getting tired of being in the corner, playing what if and ready for a real relationship. She's not in love with Lord Debling, but ready to accept something real over her years of fantasizing over Colin for nothing.

I agree with people who wrote that the scene that Colin is rereading his journal, he's going over what Penelope has read so that he knows what she read and enjoyed and what would be going through her mind. Lady Bridgerton for sure knows that Colin is in love with Penelope! She knows he's in love and he couldn't take his eyes off of Penelope. And she's no idiot, the boy is acting love sick and she can smell that a mile away.

Tillie Arnold is an amusement, but not endgame.

Is it just me or is Lord Anderson not that funny or charming? I don't mind him courting Violet or anything to do with his person, but I don't get it. Maybe I'm taking cues from Lady Danbury who is an impeccable judge of character, but I'm meh about him.

LOL! I love Queen Charlotte and Brimsley! The step another pace backwards comment was gold. "You read me too well."

Awww look at Francesca's little face! She likes John so much! They just get each other and the two actors portray that so well. The joy they have when together, the unspoken silences, and the chemistry they have is evident and I like them!

Lord Samadani is portrayed perfectly as well- he is handsome and dashing and everything that a traditional girl would have wanted. But not what Francesca wants.

Aw, poor Cressida. I never thought I would think or say that, but here we are. The writers have reframed her into a victim of the ton and has tried to free her from the trope of Mean Blonde Bitch.

Oh, Pen it's so obvious you're staring at Colin. Even Lord Debling can tell something's up. I really like Lord Debling, I think he's so cute! I know he's not endgame, but he's doing everything right so far. Asking her how he would secure her hand and putting out feelers of her reaction to a proposal.

Oho the infamous prostitute scene! Yes, he seems incredibly disinterested. Of course his enthusiasm is elsewhere it's with Penelope! I don't mind this scene so much because it just heightens Colin's disinterest with any woman except for Penelope.

Ha! I love how Francesca just accosted Lord Kilmartin! She knows what she wants and it's this man! They are so cute and awkward and adorable! Francesca wants love, but doesn't want to or know how to play games like Daphne did. They are the on the spectrum romance I didn't know I wanted or needed.

Ooh more Cressida backstory and it is grim. Her family and house are so cold. Yeesh. No wonder she is who she is and does what she does. Eloise is sweet to come by and check up on Cressida, she's a good friend. Her father seems like a pill.

I like the Mondrich's and understand them having class/adjustment issues about suddenly becoming part of the ton. It's good to have some contrast and real people part of the main story, but I also don't understand Will's determination to not see how it looks for him to be serving as bartender. With that act he seemingly doesn't understand the whole have/have not system the ton is based on. Wake up, Will!

These assholes. I never liked these puffed up men of the ton who parade about as rakes, but are more likely just assholes who've slept with a girl or two, who they've most likely had to pay. I'm not a prude or judgmental, but I am with Colin and would be sick of them too.

Penelope being wary of her engagement with Lord Debling makes sense. The girl has been in love with Colin Bridgerton for years and still is and so it would be hard for her to just throw that all away and go with Lord Debling, whom she is not in love with. She's not opposed to him, but also waiting for true love.

Ha! We get more love sick and pining Colin! It's sad to see him like this, but also sweet poetic justice for all the years Penelope was pining alone for him. Lady Bridgerton is such a good mother! She knows Colin like the back of her hand and I love the part where she talks about armor. She knows he's been playing a part lately and wants him to be his Cinnamon Roll self.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she mentions Penelope and getting a proposal! That minx! She's sharp and sly and knows exactly what to say to get a response from her children. Lol.

The ballet was gorgeous! That hair piece OMG it was stunning! I like the Queen, but no Francesca will not end up with Lord Samadani!

The ballet sequence is interesting because of Penelope's reaction to it. The ballet is a romance story and Penelope is wrapped up in it. Other people are admiring the artistry and appreciating the dancers, but Penelope is swept up in it. Which proves that a loveless marriage will not do for her.

See, back to Lord Anderson and I get why he would like Violet, but not why she would like him back. They are reading friends to me than late in life love match. I just don't see instant chemistry or anything.

Tillie is beautiful and amusing, but eventually Benedict is going to chafe at the hiding things and lack of romance. Clearly Tillie is her own woman and not needing a man, which will turn Benedict off eventually I believe.

I actually like the Cressida and Eloise relationship. What am I saying? But I do! I think it's cute. Cressida is in sore need of a friend to soften her and Eloise needs one that listens to her.

Yes! Colin thinking back to that one day and the glass and the looks and the comments about eyes. They were so close and comfortable with each other because they were friends before feelings and etc got in the way.

More Francesca and John and they are very cute. She's abrupt with him at first because she thinks he doesn't like her, but lights up when she sees his gesture. This man gets her to her very soul and it's very cute. Lemonade isn't going to cut it man! She has someone who reads her very soul! The queen's face lol!

Excuse me! Colin is here for a purpose, boys, out of the way!

Oof, you were being honest, but way to fumble the ball Lord Debling. He knows that Penelope loves romance and romance novels and couldn't throw her a bone about one day being in love. Maybe that's what it is and wasn't meant to be, but oof.

Here comes unhinged Colin and I love it! I have been spoiled by this from all over and here it is! Yes walking right up to a dancing couple like that quite scandalous! This is going to be good.

Eros and Psyche indeed! Cressida can be a cow at times, but she's right here. Everything she's putting out here is right. They are old friends, but something is going on between them and directly across the street of that window Penelope's obsessed with. She gives Lord Debling all the answers and clues to put the pieces together.

I feel for Penelope because she feels like Lord Debling is her one and only shot at a husband, but Lord Debling is not a fool and has figured out about her and Colin. He's not wrong and the two of them would not have been a good match, but I feel bad for Penelope.

Colin running down this carriage, yes very unhinged behavior indeed! The boy is lovestruck! Those eyes when he says he cannot leave her alone! They are so in love and the total opposite reaction we see from him with the prostitutes. He is all emotion, all heart on his sleeve and I love to see it.

They're getting it on, they're doing it! Eeek, squee, all the feels! That moment after they start kissing where they look at each other to see if this is real and yes, yes it is! Then they get back into it hot and heavy. He's going for more and she gives the nod of consent. Yes, let's do this Colin! I've been spoiled about the fingering but it is hot! Yes Go get it girl!

Aww that moment of laughter between the two so cute! I've seen other posts on this and it's a moment where they are two old friends and giggling together and that is the nature of their romance and relationship and I agree. It's utterly adorable.

Ok!!! Ugh now I know why so many people can't wait for part 2. Fortunately for me, it's only a couple more days and I can't wait!!!! We're going to have Lady Whistledown drama, Eloise drama, a lot of Polin sex, and a marriage! I can't wait I can't wait!

[eddiegettingshot]

okay. mourning s1-s4 tim minear anon here. just finished my season 3 rewatch and ohhhhh boy oh boy. honestly I could write so much about that finale alone because s6 and s7 have made me forget what a good finale can be (athough I will say that the s3 finale has me thinking a wholeeee bunch of insane things about the s7 finale like buddie things and how the writing choices are were insane (complementary) that I will not elaborate on here because Im already rambling too much about how good s3 is). but genuinely all the character arcs were SO GOOD this season its insane. athena (hate the copaganda here but the general emotional journey with athena and athena/may): establishing what being a cop means to her -> showing that not even the murder of her fiance could sway her from policing and finally arresting the man that did it -> experiencing something traumatic first hand that makes her question her ability to do the job again. and then may: hating what her mom does, going as far as to write her college essay about it, then insisting on taking the pictures with her mom for prom despite her injuries from policing/not being ashamed of her. and also appreciating it to the point of also wanting to help people but as an acab truther pursuing a different way of doing it (911 operator. also imagine they made may a cop thank god that didnt happen lmao). michaels feeling of loneliness and isolation leading up to his diagnosis, then ending the season by meeting his endgame and knowing he gets to live. buck starting the season being insecure about losing his place with the 118 and being the person left behind again and ending the season confronting the last person who left him + feeling secure in his relationships with the 118. bobby's refusal to let buck do anything at the beginning of the season due to his injury + general recklessness vs doing buck's suggested rescue to save both victims. both the henren IVF/fostering arc AND the hen arc were great and thank god because the henren of it all was seriously lacking before this season. but hitting the girl with the ambulance -> reconnecting with her first rescue -> introducing her issues with Drs and their ability to listen and help patients to their full ability -> pursuing med school SO GOOD. and remember when madney used to get character arcs UGHH soooo good. developing chim + his mom/albert/his dad more. having maddie actually confront what happened with doug via therapy (btw maddie stalker plot good example of how to do an insane storyline well!!). this leading into the love confession and also the conclusion/start to the pregnancy arc they set up in !!! episode 1 !!! them not just dropping the josh arc completely after the heist trauma he suffered and seeing it through to a satisfying conclusion. and like I do have one nitpick in hindsight like the eddie arc was so good up until he got caught in the fighting ring and he cried about the divorce and then it was just never brought up again in favour of doing the mini chris stories in 3x10/3x12/3x15. like you literally had a chance to address and conclude eddie's mourning shannon arc in eddie begins or the episodes surrounding that and just didnt LMAO idk maybe they had plans and it got scrapped for the buck/red/abby arc because connie agreed to come back because really it was the only thing that did not feel concluded relative to literally every other character arc this season. anyways where is this tim. TIM WAKE UP!!! come back and give your characters arcs!!! one thing that is super obvious from rewatching the early seasons is there is still SO MUCH interesting stuff to explore with these characters!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am begging please give eddie a story with a satisfactory conclusion please give maddie and chim stories please stop torturing hen and karen via fostering/adoption please conclude a buck plot in satisfactory fashion please have bobby and athena explore his past properly please make ravi a main

ohhhh my god THIS MADE ME MOURN S3 TOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 what the fuck COME BACK TIM 😭😭😭😭😭 i want him BACK 😭😭😭😭😭

[charliewrites99]

Don't worry! Everybody likes Eddie, too 😊 I know it's worrisome surrounded by negatively and endless fan speculation, BUT if Buddie is meant to be, it'll happen. The main cast loves the idea of Buck and Eddie. And with ACTUAL indications that Buddie have a secure bond from the ACTUAL actors, I'd take their word over what you're reading on here. Tommy is doing nothing wrong and no harm. Lou is a great guy and seriously isn't trying to swoop in. As shocking as it may be an endgame switcheroo sounds like insecurities, jealousy, or hatred. Who knows? Tommy may simply just be here for another episode, and he's gone again, but even if he wasn't, it would be okay! Buck/Eddie are allowed to date other people. It wouldn't mean they pulled the plug on the idea of Buddie. I would expect this network knows what they're doing. They've acted accordingly, saw our reactions, and responded appropriately. It's 3 episodes in, and honestly they got 6 years of Fox bs to manage, I know it's redundant, but we have to let it play out now that it actually can.

Thank you for this. I know I sounded ridiculous, but I am always worried about networks just trying to find the easiest way out even if it isnt narratively satisfying. I didnt even think about Tommy being more than a stepping stone until fandom went beserk

[bookishfeylin]

So my ACOMAF rewrite is a LONG way off if I ever DO manage to find time to write it, so I feel comfortable with some vague spoilers/revealing my general thoughts on what the series would look like were Feylin endgame:

Feylin spending ACOTAR 2 rebuilding their relationship as they heal from trauma, securing alliances with other courts, and potentially learning more about the many spies Amarantha and Hybern sent into Prythian. Something mentioned in ACOTAR 1 and never, ever discussed again. Insert angry rant about retcons and forgotten details here. Rhysand ends up being one of those spies, and Rhysand hopes to lure Feyre to his + Hyberns side in this. Suddenly Feyre's bargain with Rhysand becomes very, very important to the war as a whole. From a writing perspective, this provides a good reason for why Feyre is the protagonist while neatly circumventing the chosen one trope and the mary sue 'i am an all powerful white woman' thing Feyre has going for her in the rest of the series. Feyre becomes buddy buddy with the Lady of Autumn, Cresseida, and ironically becomes close allies with the mercenary from the very beginning of the first book (the one Feyre sold Andras’s fur pelt to? Yeah. Her) The Children of the Blessed are recruited as a spy network for the Spring court about goings on in the humans lands and they are more than happy to oblige. Maybe Feylin are mates, maybe they're not. (I can see it working either way: either Feylin are mates as a means of proving Amarantha completely wrong about human hearts, showing people with human hearts are more than capable of achieving that kind of bond and love and finally explains why Tamlin specifically said he’d dreamed of Feyre, or they aren't mates, and showing that love that is CHOSEN is actually more valuable than love that is forced upon you by the forces that be.) And a very minor headcanon of mine is that Feyre befriends a kelpie purely on accident and there’s a whole scene in which she attempts to escape Rhysand and said kelpie makes an appearance. Anyway…

Eventually Hybern comes to Prythian, invades the human lands first, and the fae of Prythian have to defend humans, leading to the beginning of healing the long rift between humans and High Fae. Feyre ends up as a kind of ambassador/mediator between both alongside Nesta and Elain, to secure peace and atone for the wrongs of the fae, and as a result both of the sisters remain human for the rest of their lives.

[mythals-whore]

Here I am :) No writing prompts this time I promise, but 18 (lol), 19 and 25 for the character development Rook ask game, pretty please? :3

Writing prompts are allowed! They might just take me a while because I get carried away. 19 (& 24) already answered HERE

Rook asks HERE (:

If you're interested: 2, 12 & 13 HERE, 15 is HERE, 7, 8 & 10 answered HERE

18. Is Rook quite as bad at jumping as the game implies, and if yes, why?

Maybe not quite as bad but she does struggle. And the reason is short legs. I've made my Rook pretty short, canonically not much taller than Harding. So she's doing her best.

25. What do they do after the end of their adventure?

Good question, being form Tevinter/Minrathous the clean up after endgame is really important. And post that, I like to believe she ends up in the Archon's staff in some way. Cyri would not be good at politics BUT I think she's somewhere in the palace as like personal security. AND I think she's an unofficial advisor (unofficial because when she's offered the official position she says no absolutely not but always gives advice when asked) ALSO she helps out with Minrathous Murders & Monsters when she has the time (:

[crescentpaws]

OK CAR RIDE QUESTIONS 4 U (you don’t have to answer all of them im just also bored rn)

do you like to listen to music/podcasts on a car journey?

if so any recs?

favourite gas station snack?

hmmm…. what do you think fintan would do on a road trip… he seems like a doritos guy 2 me…

GETTING OFF TOPIC. what’s the best fast food place/place for road trip lunch?

worst road trip Event that makes you wanna commit arson

(like him… IM GETTING OFF TOPIC !)

ok man i give up i canf think of anything else roadtrip related. do you have a favourite fintan line/moment?

do you think he qualifies as doomed by the narrative?

whats your ideal shannon-be-damned fintan endgame (purposely vague— death/redemption/yaoi/all at once/secret fifth thing whatever you desire)

whats the funniest theory you have for unravelled? personally ithink keefes gonna meet alvar at the pride parade

when you rotate fintan in your head is it like a smooth 3d animation or the pear wiggler or a washing machine or?

1. yes i am an avid music enjoyer

2. idk man i just listen to set it off

3. can’t go wrong with candy & potato chips

4. i dunno about snacks but. he would be the guy in the passenger seat that props his feet up on the dash…. but in an annoying & distracting way. if he had the back seat all to himself he would sprawl out dramatically. & if he was the one driving he would definitely do random swerves & sudden accelerations/breaks just to annoy other drivers/the other people in the car. he is an asshole.

also i think any elf on a road trip would be complaining “are we there yet” because they’re too used to light leaping and don’t know how to wait more than a few minutes to travel somewhere.

but fintan would definitely prefer car drives over plane flights…. specifically because he would find it agonizing to be that high up in the atmosphere (therefore closer to the sun & everblaze) without being able to use his ability. he would squeeze himself into the tiny plane bathroom and have a breakdown.

5. augh i don’t know….. i’m a picky eater so there’s not many places i’ll go tbh….

6. any bathroom inconveniences…. i will kill someone

8. fav fintan line has got to be “sorry i’m late. the security here is murder” bc he had no right to say that wtf 😭😭😭 actually worst person ever he sucks so much. other fav peace summit lines are “there’s no need to be offended. being superior isn’t all it’s cracked up to be” and “how predictable of you” because i love it when he is an arrogant sarcastic bitch.

top 3 fintan scenes are the peace summit, his memory break, and his healing i think (not in any particular order). but also i love his “surprise” when he reveals that he’s still alive in book 4 becahse WHY IS HE SUCH A SMUG LITTLE FUCKER. hate that bitch (i love him so much)

9. i think it depends on how you look at it. young baby councillor fintan is definitely doomed i think. but evil bitch neverseen fintan has deliberately chosen all his actions and therefore i think is more doomed by himself than the narrative if anything. obviously though the series hasn’t ended yet so. we’ll have to see.

10. ALL AT ONCE‼️💥💥 in all seriousness though i have conflicting opinions…. i wouldn’t like a redemption arc because i know all that would mean would be him helping out the main characters from within his prison…. and i am not content with him rotting in prison for all of eternity. but i KNOW if he breaks out the series will have to end with him dying… which i also don’t want…. but i’d be more ok with his death if it was actually intense and emotional and dramatic unlike literally all the other neverseen deaths so far……. i think bronte should kill him homoerotically i think that would be neat.

11. keefe gets rabies 🔥🔥 maybe he somehow gets a british accent also…. idk. also if i’m forced to read a whole keefe book he better mention fintan at least once… just for me…….. (i need him to recap his time in the neverseen pls that would actually make me excited to read the book)

12. low quality image of him spinning around like he’s on a spinny chair (but there is no chair & he is just floating)

[worflesbian]

in reference to prev post I joke about loving divorce on here a lot but in full sincerity t'pring and her story is a GREAT example of why I genuinely, unironically think divorce is a beautiful thing. as much as people have a right to their opinions about fictional ships and if seeing two people stick with a relationship through thick and thin appeals to you then each to their own, but in real life the idea of relationships being Work, as in the capitalist sense of a job you have to do in order to be financially secure enough to live, has historically been a major tool of the patriarchy in restricting women's freedom. divorce, especially no fault divorce, can be argued to be as crucial to women's freedom as the right to work and the right to vote. if you don't have legal recourse to end a marriage once you've entered it, and you live in a patriarchal society where your husband has more money and social standing than you, you are essentially a prisoner.

t'pring is a perfect example of this bc although I don't know if we ever find out the Vulcan stance on divorce, the fact that she isn't able to break off the engagement without having her fiance killed is pretty telling!! this story is very much of its time in the 60s and I'm glad that trek is no longer characterising the Vulcans as quite so extreme, but I also Love the way T'Pring gets to logic her way out of a situation that wouldve seen her (and Spock) trapped and unhappy for the rest of her long life.

I think that a lot of fandom attitudes reflect/magnify the wider patriarchal disdain for divorce, the whole idea of an otp and wanting your ship to be endgame isn't bad on its own but when people are aggressively against the idea they could ever split up, even amicably, it makes me wonder why the ending of a Disney movie is the ultimate romantic ideal for them. jokes about a divorced female character always characterise her as calculating, self-serving and wealthy whereas jokes about a divorced male character always show him as sad, pathetic, barely keeping himself presentable (like single men can't wash clothes for themselves) (i know many of them can't but why are you normalising this??).

although I said each to their own before, it does ring alarm bells for me when people look at a ship where the male character mistreats his love interest, and decide that they want to see them stick it out and make things work. does she have to teach him how to respect her in this vision? why does the sunk cost fallacy not apply? would you feel the same if your male blorbo was with a woman who didn't see him as a full person, or are you already writing her out to replace her with a guy?

I think it's frustrating for me to see people make the same assumptions with fiction that in reality have led women I know and love to waste months to years of their life trying to "fix" a relationship that was never functional to begin with with a man who refuses to do the bare minimum. so in conclusion, I am not being a bitch or a hater and am in fact speaking with a heart full of love and wonder at the vast spectrum of possibilities for life and relationships when I say ✨Divorce Him✨