#i bet that's half the reason they even brought his character back

[hollowed-theory-hall]

so in your fic there's Sirius/Barty Jr ship. i reread your analytics of their character and pretty understand the connection. but i would still like to read opinion about their ship 👀

Glad you enjoy my various writing!

Yeah, okay, so Sirius/Barty Jr is a little rare pair my beta reader and I came up with for a different fic that never really got written, but we liked it so much it made it into my current fic, A Matter of Chance.

I'll note that it's gonna take quite some time in A Matter of Chance until Sirius and Barty actually meet and even longer until they get together in any meaningful way (but also my writing plans are super vague, so I don't really know). So there's some waiting until that tag is gonna be relevant. That being said, why I ship them and my thoughts on the ship:

So, I wrote a bunch about Sirius, and a bit less about Barty, but they have, like, a lot in common:

They're both incredibly loyal.

They both suffered Azkaban.

The way Sirius described Barty's father always struck me as him being familiar with the situation: "should've spent more time at home" and might've been showing the bitterness towards Orion.

They both have reason to hate Crouch Sr for sending them to the dementors.

They both care about Harry (pretty shocking on Barty's part, but it truly seems like he does) and are as involved as they can be.

both of them are hands-on in their approach, of, well, literally anything.

I feel Sirius and Barty would get each other's sense of humor that's a bit on the crueler side too. They won't make the other feel guilty over stupid shit.

They also communicate in a similarly straightforward way. They say what they think pretty damn clearly when they're free to do so.

So, as you can see, they have a surprising amount of things in common. As for Barty being a Death Eater, well, I illustrated in my posts about him that I don't think he was that much of a loyal Death Eater and I don't think he tortured the Longbottoms (it's outright stated in the books he wasn't caught with the Lestranges, but with a different group of Death Eaters that walked free!). I think Barty was a Death Eater more as a teenage rebellion than truly believing in everything (though he likely isn't a fan of Muggles). Like, the way Sirius went all in on Dumbledore and the Order as rebellion, Barty did in the opposite direction.

I don't think Barty really killed and tortured many people, but unlike Draco or Regulus I think he could if he felt he needed to, he isn't as sadistic as Bellatrix (or Sirius, honestly). He's tamer but still colder and more willing to respond with violence than Draco or Lucius.

The main quote I'm basing this ship on is the entire conversation in which Sirius talks about Barty in GoF:

Sirius smiled grimly. “Crouch’s own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who’d managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.” “Crouch’s son was caught?” gasped Hermione. “Yep,” said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. “Nasty little shock for old Barty, I’d imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn’t he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . . gotten to know his own son.” He began to wolf down large pieces of bread. “Was his son a Death Eater?” said Harry. “No idea,” said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. “I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I’ve found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I’d bet my life were Death Eaters — but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf.” “Did Crouch try and get his son off?” Hermione whispered. Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark. [...] Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he sent him straight to Azkaban.” “He gave his own son to the dementors?” asked Harry quietly. “That’s right,” said Sirius, and he didn’t look remotely amused now. “I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . . they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in their sleep. . . .” For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius’s eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them. “So he’s still in Azkaban?” Harry said. “No,” said Sirius dully. “No, he’s not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in.” “He died?” “He wasn’t the only one,” said Sirius bitterly. “Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. [...] Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son’s body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it.”

Sirius talks about Crouch Sr and Barty's relationship. He knows a surprising lot about Barty's backstory and childhood for someone who didn't even know for sure if he was a Death Eater and only found these things out after he escaped. Like, where did he learn all this from (sure, he likely read old newspapers, but how much of this information is actually likely to be there?). He also talks about both Bartys with a certain familiarity "ol' Barty". He's dull and bitter over Barty's death, he watched the only "funeral" Barty got, probably the only "attendant" besides the dementors. And he talks about hearing Barty screaming until he died in Azkaban... Yeah, I like that angst, I'm so here for an Azkaban romance (and post-Azkaban romance).

And, like, Barty was in Regulus' year, they probably joined the Death Eaters around the same time, maybe even together. And Sirius probably didn't talk to Barty at all his own when they were in school, he had no reason to, but he knew his little brother hung out with him occasionally. And from the quote above it's clear Sirius felt sorry for him, felt sympathy for someone else he thought might've been innocent. Someone in the same situation as he is that he might've felt protective over, like he could succeded in saving Regulus this time. And Barty has no one, basically, no friends, no family, just haunting memories, a situation Sirius is so familiar with. And Sirius is like a sorta friend, he's basically Regulus if you squint (not at all but at first), they share an experience (and hatred for Crouch Sr) that could feel so isolating when speaking to someone who doesn't know. He's someone Barty could potentially trust since neither of them trusts the ministry, or Voldemort, or Dumbledore. They can be in their own little corner where they have no one (well, Harry is there, but no other adults. Remus has way more faith in Dumbledore than Sirius does)

So, imagine this: Sirius lost everyone, he lost James, he lost his brother, he and Barty are in the same boat. So, like, imagine them talking quietly through the bars, each treating the other as a Regulus stand-in even if their personalities are more similar to each other than to Regulus. This grows into somewhat getting to know each other, something that's almost friendship. A cold comfort in the coldness of Azkaban. Then, Barty seemingly stops talking to Sirius and dies soon after, and Sirius doesn't know what to make of it. After Barry dies, he starts staying in Padfoot form more and more.

And then, post-Azkaban, they gonna meet again and bond over escaping Azkaban and caring about Harry.

There'll be healing. There'll be bad coping mechanisms. There'll be a desperation for any familiar connection and a lot of dark humor. They're on the run from both Voldemort and the ministry. And, like, if anyone thinks Sirius Orion Black won't be willing to help get away from Crouch Sr's body, they don't know Sirius Black.

Like, I think they'd just get each other, but also keep making incorrect assumptions about each other at the same time all the while being desperate for what the other represents — people they lost, time they lost. I think it's a fun concept with angst potential.

They're also both incredibly intelligent and skilled wizards (Barty tricked the Goblet of Fire, which is no easy feat). I think they could see each other, eventually after they get over the initial mess of shared losses, as equals and partners in crime. They just have such a vibe, idk. Like, I imagine them pseudo-parenting Harry together, and all I can come up with would be hilarious, but also, like, surprisingly good for Harry. Harry needs more people in his life who would appreciate him for him, more people that'll raise his ridiculously low self-esteem.

Do you know who's the first character to tell Harry he has talents? Barty Jr.

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” said Moody gruffly. “I don’t show favoritism, me. I’m just going to give you some good, general advice. And the first bit is — play to your strengths.” “I haven’t got any,” said Harry, before he could stop himself. “Excuse me,” growled Moody, “you’ve got strengths if I say you’ve got them. Think now. What are you best at?”

(GoF, 344)

Basically, I think they'd be messed up, but also make it work under their specific circumstances.

(Can you tell I love trauma bonding ships?)

[theflagscene]

GMMTV having mostly queer shows on the docket for the next year and a half—there’s still a bunch that haven’t aired yet remember—should not surprise anyone.

There’s still 6 QLs yet to have been aired that they showed us at the 2024 lineup, and 7 heterosexual series as well. So add up what we got today that puts it at what? Like 23 queer series vs 8 straight series, with 2 that are an ensemble casts that have a mix of queer and straight couples.

That sounds like a massive shift from back in 2016 when they had one BL and two hetero series with side BL characters, because ya know what? It is! But you know what else? I don’t give a shit, and I bet most other queer/LGBTQ+ folks don’t either.

I’ve spent my entire life watching movies and tv shows about straight couples, didn’t matter the genre, the characters were always straight. And when I first started seeing fully queer made for tv movies from all around the world in the mid 1990’s most of those were about how wrong it was to be queer, how unacceptable it was, how I was going to burn in hell or die of AIDS or be murdered just for walking outside with my partner. But I didn’t need to see that on my tv, because I lived it already. I grew up in the LGBTQ+ community, my parents fostered two gay sons who grew up to be drag queens, their closest neighbours and friends were queer, they were the only parents around the neighborhood that were safe for queer kids. I watched people die of AIDS, I remember when Mathew Sheppard was murdered, I saw my childhood friend be brought to our house by his mother asking my parents to ‘take him, because his father is gonna kill him’. I’ve lived it and seen it all with my own two eyes.

So you know what, yeah, I wanna see dumb ass gay as fuck romances on my screen. I want shows with messy gays and not a single token hetero, because after the lives the queers have lived, we’re allowed to have some escapism that isn’t a warning that our entire lives are wrong or disgusting or evil.

So bring on the cats, the magic, the sluts and the sassy queens! The cheating, the threesomes, the marriages and divorces. I want it all, even if I don’t personally watch it or enjoy a certain series, I know someone out there will. They will love it and just for that reason alone I will love it as well.

GMMTV is a massive multimedia conglomerate, they have the GMM25 as well as One31 TV channels and hold shares in about three or four other companies/channels, they still make a shit ton of your typical heterosexual series and lakorns. This shift to mainly QLs isn’t wrong, stupid or even all that much of a surprise. Yes, they are doing for the money because they know that currently the QL market is hugely popular. But did anyone ever think of why it is? It’s not just about ‘Y girls’ or fujoshis or whatever else people think, it’s also because of the queers that are finally getting to see someone like themselves in the media. It’s not about a gay guy fetish, because if it was, every GL since FreenBecky walked onto the scene would’ve tanked. No, it’s also because even straight girls/femmes are so fucking tired of the same old shit, the same old guy gets the girl, blah blah, that they wanna see some girls kissing too.

Also this allows so many queer actors, writers and directors to be more open and honest about themselves and their lives, I hope to see more QL performers come out in the future. As queer, trans, nonbinary, gender nonconforming, all of it. I hope that the the rise of QL media can make it a safer place for queers to exists, in a world so full of hate, let’s just have this one tiny corner that’s barely a splash in the ocean. Because I love our tiny splash, and I hope it continues to be rainbow sparkly for a long time. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[zombocomme]

Please, interact with us, our music cues will be highlighted for your convenience

[Midnight Special Theme plays:]

Zombocomme: Well, well, well, we are back on the air and we thank our audience for their patience. Mental health vacations should be taken by everyone, and loving yourself is so important, no? As this episode airs we have a little bet going on behind the scenes. You see, this story was originally selected from the BTL Lore vault and it's central characters and true ending have since been left on the cutting room floor, in favor of lending it's spirit to this collaboration project. Half our crew believes the original ending for the AU should make a debut, (ending A.), whereas the other half believe that leaving the episode resolution a mystery is perfect as is (ending B.) I've seen both of course, but I find that every rendition of the story means something new. I could go on forever re writing it, but the spirit of the tale is the same. And yes. It is time to move on from this Collab project to our next exciting slot, even if we do wish we saw a different end. I'll hope our audience enjoys this theatrical cut... And once again, this program is brought to you by contributions and collaborations from audience members like you, thank you.

And Now, Ministry 📺TV presents.

Featuring @frjimdefroque and @ask-miasma-ghoul in

RBRG/ FRJD and AMG:

✨️🐦‍🔥Combiverse🦋✨️

Spin off Episode: part 4 (ending B.)

Between The Lines, Episode 7 PART 4 of 4: “So help you god…you're set free”

Enjoy

NFW: MDNI : Rated-R: (Mature themes) *mentions death and dead bodies, bugs, gore and frontier diseases and violence, guns, religious interpretation of trauma, consumption of body and blood, allusions to murder/self and description macabre, and ghosts of the espooky kind.

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” KJV- Mathew 25:37-40

🌌🗻🍂🐑🐾💀❄️🫲🙂‍↕️🫱❄️💀🐾🕊🍃🗻🌄

[Midnight Special Theme continues to play:]

God… The temptation made Miasma shiver  and his stomach pool a hot coil tightening from within…Jim shivered, but for a completely different reason…

Jim’s eyes clouded milky white. As he stood at the edge of the sunken sacred earth, it became more and more like a pit at the bottom of a gentle slope. They had dug into  the brick and when they had looked  up, the world around them seemed like a whiteout. Nothing. Only the distant row of the trees, the line circling them like a black fingered noose, that while it lay in wait, seemed somehow to tighten all around them all at once.

Jim stood up and threw the shovel, “The Captain wrote it, all but confessed it, ‘The Game had moved on’, he said! There were no ‘bucks’,” Jim seethed, desperately aching,  “Only desperate people.”

Miasma tilted his head away as if in mild disgust beholding the long since charred remains. Remnants of their time, discovered in the horrifying aftermath of ‘The end’, preserved like a stony fossil, cold and forever dead, until it hardened and became known… became the truth…concrete, and indifferent.

“They must have been starving” Miasma said, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, voice barely above a whisper.

“Like the Donner Party. They burned everything they could.  But left the main place standing, the places most damnable. All this evidence left behind… like someone wanted this to be found” Jim said through his trance like state, rocking on his heels, vulnerable and icy. “Whoever wrote that Diary probably.” Jim swallowed, feeling like a blue ice cube had been swallowed, frosting through  a hole in his stomach. He felt sick. Brittle old bones and a few scraps of rotted cloth, trinkets and tokens that had somehow in the heat, collapsed the kilns, trapping the mass grave of bones with saw marks and serrations.

Miasma’s face hardened, his nose catching whiffs of torn tender flesh, festered like that of a blackening fruit, zinging in the putrid of the juice, flies buzzing daintily, “My god… They really dead eat each other, didn't they. and that line, 'to the brick with their kin', hell it condemns the captain as well. Seems it is true...Mankind cannot help themselves can they, when it comes to their baser desires," he swallowed, "I suppose all mortals face this in the end… the judgement day of their wretchedness.

It’s, almost as if no matter what, under the eyes of god, it is true, all mankind is created equal.. That is…” Miasma paused, “...that is because, all men must die… funny… that a God who demands everlasting faith, is also a God that creates its faithful out of such perishable vessels... It’s a shame really” Miasma said, feeling his stomach clamp shut, trapping his insides. Jim eyes were white, his voice echoing almost as if he was speaking aloud where he stood loudly, but softly in a more intimate voice, as if moist in his ears, Miasma heard Jim speak to him.

“And if people are in a kiln, it is because they are dead, or fated to die. Grace means nothing, when the moment comes when the living envy the dead. The true crash of the human psyche, the end of humanity, the end of one’s self, “If the living envy the dead, it’s because the living have something they wish they were dead over, but didn’t die for. If such people willingly went to the fire.”

Was it what they deserved?

Was such a hellish scene of people walking into the fire meant to be the door to their hell, or their purifying baptism in that lake of fire, to get their ticket punched for heaven? 

[Don Abandons Alice plays:]

Miasma dropped his shovel letting it clatter on the icy ground. “A willing Lamb for slaughter.” he whispered. He watched as despair for the wretchedness of the world sank Jim to his knees crying milky white tears, that glowed white like the snow around them, “If only they could have saved them from themselves.” Jim wept. 

Miasma watched as his vision swayed and all sound hollowed to a numbness like he felt on his body from the unusual coldness of the world. “I am nothing special to god, am I...” Miasma said softly.

Jim shook his head, rubbing at his stinging tears, “Intercessor, hear our prayer”. Jim Wept. 

And as Miasma watched on, Jim began to sob, saying the prayers of Last Rites, and the Apostles creed.

…As the dead around them at last began to rise…

“O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee,

Dust curled around them “ashes, ashes, we all fall, up?” Miasma sang softly to himself, a lilt, as the rising debris began to slope up, taking shape, bone and soot, ice and charred things that began to warm and fowl under the sudden humidity and heat that melted away the snow. the immediate Area encircled with Fire.

and I detest all my sins because of thy just punishments,

Miasma’s breath sucked into his chest, it was like being in the pits, all over again!

"No, no, no, no!" Miasma panicked, pacing like a wild thing, looking for escape.

but most of all because they offend Thee, my God,

who art all good and deserving of all my love.

“Father! Father Jim!” Miasma began shouting, his voice raggedly higher in his panicking call, trying to climb over the brick as a corpse groped for his blackened boots, the others approaching, rising, clawing, teeth gnashing. One even tore his crucifix off. 

Jim whirled and saw the hellish scene, his eyes watering, in a voice not his own, but that of the captain of that camp mourned, “Oh what have we done, what has the world done to us!”, lamenting and wailing.

Jim could feel it, like empathic fire searing his veins as he felt the dead in their personal hell that was this goddamned oven, boiling over with a cacophony of cries for absolution. Seeing Miasma on the ground as he tried to scurry away from the dead thing lurching forward, chasing after him, Jim grit his teeth.

He grabbed a shovel and swung, a nauseating squelching noise as the blade of the shovel bisected a purple and grey corpse… “Miasma, Miasma I’m coming!” Ice chipped, bones snapped and shattered, ashes swiftly swept away, charred remains crumbling, there were too many closing in, every single one of them blocking all hope of leaving this circle of hell alive.

As Jim swung the blade, he could see the exact moment each person had died, like a snap of an old timey photograph flashing in his mind, how they had died, the white smoke around him distorting his vision, seeing human faces in place of the skeletal, every stage of decay and remains, portraying the humanity of their souls; The human experience all share at that moment where life ends and death begins, the fading light, and not every time had the eyes gone dark. before their breaths drew their last .

Miasma saw it too, and said what Jim couldn’t say, or else it would mess up the narrative, Oh yes. not only cannibals... but *MURDERERS*

I firmly resolve with the help of Thy grace

to sin no more

and to avoid the near occasion of sin. 

Amen.”

[The Walking Dead Theme plays:]

Jim grunted, kicking back another clawing corpse that kept re-rising, like everything else. The suffering just would not die. And the living wished it was over, but their night had only just barely just begun…

Miasma felt like he was unable, incapable, inconceivably broken, that Jim had to come to his rescue, him? A Ghoul born from the fiery scapes of hell, why was it so hard to move, to run, or rush to defend. He felt like he was a helpless thing, marooned on an island surrounded by the sulfuric seas, boiling and acidic, toxic air stinging his every pore, bleeding from every hair”

“Jim help me, please!" He cried, seeing these beings the way humanity surely saw him, a murderer, a consumer, a black wolf preying on the living. "I can’t I can't go back! Please Jimmy! Help- I” Miasma began to cry. He knew, if they were dragged under by the suffering souls fondling the earth to rear up and claw their way back down with the living, sinking more and more souls with them, they would surely be lost.

Jim gripped Miasma by the shoulders, “Shut the fuck up! I’m getting us out of here!”

“Jim if we get caught and we die-”, “Then suddenly this is not our problem anymore” Jim said, brows knitted in pain from the feeling he had, the empathy of feeling the suffering and fear of his friend. 

[The Last of Us plays:]

“Miasma, We came to fight, even though we didn’t ask to. We came to find a way to set things right, and we came to find that peace. Please,” He said standing, panting. The dead were closing in as well as the greenish hellfire that was now all around them, as if they were trapped in a circle at the heart of the darkness where the deepest pain and regret could go. “Take my hand Miasma” Jim said softly, as if the dance macabre all around them were but nothing.

Green flames looked like blades of green grass soft in the sun like silk through the fingers.

“Though I walk through the valley….” Miasma thought as he looked up.

“Miasma, please. What is higher power than what we are inspired to follow as a light in times of darkness.” Jim said, his tone soft and yet gracious, begging his friend to heed his words.

“Pray with me Miasma” Jim said, lifting Miasma up. “This is  the lord’s fight…and we are on a mission from God” he said, a defiant tone as he faced the crowding undead. He held Miasmas hand in his, turning to dig his heels, a shovel in hand, ready to cut down whatever stood in their path.

“I never thought I'd fight beside a hell-spawn against hell.” Jim chuckled as they circled back to back, eying the massing wall of bodies, the weight of their work, heavy. Miasma looked down and saw his shovel, ready, calling out to him like one crying from the dust, ‘get to work’.

“What about dying beside a friend?” Miasma said, feeling a renewed strength in him as he brandished the broken shovel where blood was already painting it like a splattered crown.

Jim chuckled, “Well hell, guess I'd call a man pretty lucky if’n you can count him amongst your friends."

As shovel blades thwacked and spun, slicing as they ducked to move away from the grapples of the corpses haunting their every footstep, as they danced around, trying to clear a path with the force of their wills, but finding the action wasted, the dead were rising as soon as they were brought down, unending. Unyielding. and all around them...

"You'd call me your friend?" Miasma huffed, dodging around a small group.

"Friend, follower, whatever the fuck you call someone like you!" Jim shouted with a crooked grin, taking a large bloated corps down at the knees, trying to avoid its grasp as it crawled towards him.

"SINNER! how 'bout that!" Miasma said angrily, roaring as he cut a corpse down, black blood spewing from it's gut and flying to fleck his face. He bared his fangs as he faced off another skeleton, this one more agile than the last.

Jim frowned, "You act like ain't no sinner has a chance at seeing heaven's light! Don't be a doubting Thomas when you are so close!"

"Close?! Hah!" Miasma swung, bashing the skull into pieces and watching it mend over, but for being momentarily disabled, he moved to his next target, trying to force his way out of their circle of suffering.

"You know what I mean, I'll tell you every story under the sun if it will help you see the light! Even if I have to drag you over them pearly gates myself!" Jim winced, a shattered rotten ulna cutting him deep as he pivoted to break free of another hands grasp. "If'n we make it out alive! But I'll keep fighting till I'm dead!" He almost laughed.

“Yeah well, what the fuck about Judas then! If I’m gonna fucking die, I want to hear you preach to me about that story!” Miasma shouted as he was hauled backwards towards the ground. Jim bounded over to the offending body, bringing the blade to sever the head from the neck, the corpse clattering to the ground, the icicles of it’s skin shattering, peppering the white and black snow with meaty shards of putrid chunks.

“Ya know, if that ain't THE most perfect story for this” Jim said, an idea touching his brain like the light of god, burning in a bushel behind his eyes. “Miasma, corale them!” “The fuck you mean coral them” 

“Just shut up and gather your flock, look at them, going after you like you’re going to give them what they want, round them up!” “Like a fucking sheep dog?!” “Exactly!” Jim said, a gleam in his eye, as he made his way towards the dilapidated chimney, the flames closing in. “Use the time you have, and it ain't much, look!” Jim pointed as he scrambled on the dirt, ripping up icy clods that stung his fingers with the freezing cold bricks.

[Earth plays:]

Miasma managed to peek behind his shoulder, shovel up in two hands as he used it to try and push the herd of corpses back, his tail flicking back and forth to avoid being singed by the hellfire.

No. he didn’t envy the dead. That wasn’t his purpose. It wasn't what his dreams and yearnings meant. It was a hunger for something more, something beyond the toxic sludge of desecrated flesh. His consumption wasn't of bodies, or people, he wasn't trying to quench something in him over humanity and its hopes and dreams. No…. He craved what came of something higher, that which is granted from above...

*purpose*.

And now, now he had it. It didn’t matter how. What mattered was that it was. And with a great heavy groan, he pushed the group back, inch by inch as the fire closed in, circling them, getting them to move in hopeless circles, for their own good, he knew. You can only break curses when you set the offending souls to rest. They rest only when they can be reached. be understood. finding peace in compassion.

Jim climbed the highest mound he could, he could feel the green flames surrounding them like a sphere closing in. and it was his purpose to fight, by pushing back.

Holding out his arms to the green light at the end of what would be his mortal life, his voice rang out, catching the ears of all who could hear, and the eyes of those who got turned around by the likes of Miasma to see. Beginning his sermon on the mound of detritus and dust of self destruction. Feet wedged in the brick, rooted unmoving, and yet bowing in and around as the dead tried to drag him down but failed in their graspings, he began to preach...

“SINNERS!” Jim shouted above the chaos, “Even Ye are worthy of redemption, an absolution…an end to SUFFERING! I call on you to listen! Suffering is but a means to a grateful end. And for what considerations do ye call yourselves devils!” he said, the wretched word pulled like toxic ooze from his mouth, tongue lolling out as the black bile in his stomach rose, and vomited out of his stomach. It felt like it was tearing at everything on its way up, but there was a relief in the regurgitation, of finally letting the words he should have said before, at last coming out to reach the sinners in his current care. Truly, Jim really was speaking to those that called themselves damned for their actions. 

“If ye believe in God, as whatever you call divine, that grants swift justice that now gnashes your teeth, then you must also believe that as exists justice, so too does there exist MERCY beyond!"

Miasma shouldered several corpses causing them to crumble and hiss, but as Jim’s voice rang out clear and true, his conviction became theirs, and spellbound like rats to the piper, they slowly turned, and gathered around him. Heeding his words.

One by one, brainless, heartless, things turned toward the voice that was preaching about the possibility of redemption. And Even Miasma was listening...

As the ghoul swiped and prodded the masses of corpses stumbling to face Jim , they swayed and stuttered in their cries, as if halted in their footsteps… looking almost human, in the clarity behind their once cloudy eyes. Blinking even. The dead and things forming from the earth, wove in and around the ones who listened, and their features began to change. Taut leathery skin slacked and sagged but lay more supple upon their gaunt features.

Shattered bones and cracked fissures separating one bone from another healed and came together, bones and flesh began to mend, and even as Miasma still had to fight hard, ever on his toes, there was a rhythm to the movements he made. He found a sure footedness he could confidently maintain. And the unexpected shove and grappling attempts made, he would handle one foe at a time.

Funny how in the moment he realized the noble way of fighting for himself, was what nobly fought for the people stumbling around, lashing out and being turned to words of comfort, and repentance.

*you can't pour from an empty cup*

Miasma thought.

Jim continued, “If you believe in miracles, in the divine, then believe in me when I say, if god so rests on the seventh day, then surely, in god’s image, you must also have your end, and at an end is there not rest?!”

Miasma could feel the shifting crowd as he continued his circling, trying to keep the group's edges from fraying. The hell fire was still closing around them but it was slowing, as if it too, was listening.

“I beseech you, right here, right now, look beyond the guilt, the blame, Your God knows of them and has clearly made you suffer for it. But there is more to God than just, justice. There is also MERCY. Deliverance, Salvation. Forgiveness. Absolution. 

[Bonnie Choses to Stay plays:]

Jim felt the white smoke and mist around him settle, as one by one the faces as he saw them at the time of their deaths began to appear. And he recognized each one, and because someone had the talent to preserve it, knew them by name. 

And as Jim recited the words of psalms from memory, every syllable uttered gained in power and conviction. As he spoke, a great tree sprung from the earth behind the congregation, and Miasma jumped, the hellfire that had been around them shoot past and into the tree, whirling and and brimming with the green light that no longer burned around them with heat infernal, but rather swayed and danced like the leaves of summer tresses, a weeping willow sighing in the breeze...

“If you would find your God now, would his cleansing fire scorch you, or warm you of the coldness settled in your hearts.” He could see the fullness of their faces, where in their eyes a prayer of hope had remained in each one. 

Jim’s voice that had been booming now took on a softer tone, gesturing to the ground he stood on, “Can a monument to the cruelties of time not also be the ebenezer  raised, the miracle that comes at the end of all  suffering?

The animated remains yearned for hope. To Miasma and his sight, all he saw were hellish beings, poor devils, in rapt attention to the sound of Jim’s voice, hanging onto every word.

While Miasma was breathless, a sense of pride and accomplishment at being an author of such a bizarre and touching scene, made him almost chuckle. As Jim preached, the words he had heard so often said at the rituals and from the pulpit, came swimming to him, floating, haunting his thoughts as time moved onwards, and yet seemed to also stand still.

“The memory of your suffering will not define you, but the hope and promise of renewal, FAITH, is your salvation…Even the likes of Judas can find their way to heaven... You are but on the long road to Damascus, and struck blind to see... for without suffering how can one know peace. I call on you, for it is time now, to know of that peace...”

Miasma stood his ground, panting, his purpose, stood before him, the herd of corpses corralled around Jim, who spoke to them with such grace and compassion, reaching a hand out for their humanity to reach back.

1 LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! You have set your glory in the heavens.

*From the pinnacle to the pit*

2 Through the praise of children and infants you have established a stronghold against your enemies, to silence the foe and the avenger.

*Her acts of cruelty and her lust for blood

Makes her one of us*

3 When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,

*You shine like the sun and the moon and the stars in the sky*

4 What is mankind that you are mindful of them, human beings that you care for them?

*Holy Mother, you washeth the sin from our feet*

5 You have made them a little lower than the angels and crowned them with glory and honor.

*Under a monolith, her likeness

Marble white*

6 You made them rulers over the works of your hands; you put everything under their feet:

7 all flocks and herds, and the animals of the wild,

*An' piercing eyes emotionless

A heart so black and cold*

8 the birds in the sky, and the fish in the sea, all that swim the paths of the seas.

*Winds come on strong so help you, God

Come unleashed,*

9 LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth! 

 *you're set free*

And suddenly Miasma realized why the number of the flock was off. Why there was a presence in and around every story told. There had been one last member of this flock that needed finding. That needed saving.

*Himself*

He prayed, pleading for the green fire in the tree to call out to the lost, and as he backed away from the congregation gathered at Jim's feet he heard the soft bleating sounds of the Lost. the one’s whose stories were never told…

Coming forward, drifting towards the tree line where Miasma was running was a spectre of a young woman. The opaque figure was heavy with child. Even as Jim held the attention of the crowd he too saw the visage in the shadows. The implications not lost on him. 

[Farewell plays:]

He motioned, gently parting the sea of faces as he too made his way to where the woman went no further. Miasma looked at Jim. “We have no choice, if we want to break this curse, all the troubled souls must be put to rest. Even this one..." his tone almost tender, as he saw himself in her- eyes moistened.

*Jim always came back for him. Couldn't he do the same for her?*

Jim looked at his friend, a verse in his head that repeated over and over…

*Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me*

Jim nodded and gently clapped his hands together, snapping the white smoke and mist away, the congregation paused, no longer animated, still as statues. The mist swirled ahead as they watched the woman drift off into the trees the mist following her, like a guide-rope to her every step. While they followed her, they reverently pondered on her presence in these woods...

“Of course… her name would never be in the ledger, or the photograph. Most women weren't so acknowledged at the time, and certainly not a preacher's wife. It was seen as vain." Jim muttered, shaking his head. "Such a shame it is that such stories were often left so unknown, trapped in time. Stories want to be heard, and if it curses something to achieve it then so be it...even if the story was not a happy one, it deserves to see the light..." Jim turned, putting a hand on Miasma's shoulder, stopping a moment. Miasma laid his own on top. The two companions sharing a quiet look, one filled with understanding and compassion. It was a moment that even if lost to the known world in those woods, would forever stand the test of time, in the peace it gave to each of those beating hearts.

*She considered herself damned though at her death she was harboring the life in her belly… there was a restlessness in the tense air around them..  Stemming not only from that burden, but also, that they had never been known at all.*

“Were you the one who kept the ledger” Jim called out. He had noticed the crucifix on her visage as being the same as  the one Miasma had worn and subsequently lost. The very same...

The woman sobbed softly in response, her mournful cries echoing around the trees unnerving and heartbreakingly hollow.

*... at its heart, that bloodstone…they had found it. They had found her. At last...*

Miasma thought aloud, “It makes sense doesn't it… Father Evight Vanhassel, and his wife, the  civilizing influence together as they tended the flock of sinners that worked in these woods. When the camp lost them, they lost their reason to hold on to their humanity, The Captain, The Doctor, Father Evight, and the Missing, Lady Van Hassel...such a tragedy...such a loss...But if she, her remains, I mean, are not with the other bones then-” 

“What happened to her?” Jim finished. They took a breath of the cold pre-dawn air, and strode to follow the spectre into the dark wood.

Braving the unknown, to seek the truth…

The specter led them on, floating, as if walking, stepping on stone long since worn smooth, over dips that no longer existed, through thick trees that had been thinner when she had once wandered the paths of these woods, her mournful cries and trembling voice bouncing all around them.

Their stomachs felt uneasy, like something sad and horrible awaited them. So very much like the dreams they had been having except this time, someone was leading them to the pit in which the lost had fallen…except, even the horror they knew they would face, was as valid and important to know. If it meant giving the young woman peace, who were they to deny her story to be known...

Yet, step by step, the eerie stillness surrounding them abated, giving way to the common sounds of a sleepy winter wood. The spectre appeared almost tangible now, and though the air was growing colder as she lead them farther into the wood, towards a deep fissure in the earth where a frozen creek lay still now, where the truth lay buried, and scattered, the companions felt an ease in the tension. A lift of their burdens, in carrying them together. The broken things inside them would mend, they knew. The pieces would fall into place. And soon, both Miasma and Jim stood at the edge of their triumph, facing a chasm where a ravine gaped at their approach.

The night was clear and the air rushed around them as time all at once stood still. They found themselves surrounded  in the events that lead to the curse of that wretched blood stone… carefully they descended into the ravine and trotted together through it's shallow waters that and been lost to the passage of time, following the bend until they arrive to their destination...

The woman almost seemed to sigh in relief, as they approached her lovely bones, and learned of her demise. For at last her story would be told. And all that had been lost, every last sheep of that flock, would be found again... and non would ever be left behind again...

Daylight was breaking, and as they gazed upon a conspicuous spot where she had fallen so long ago, they had tears in their eyes. The sun was once again rising in that lonely valley, dappling through the trees over this spot where the scene almost felt Holy.

A sapling had sprouted so long ago in that very place, and as the mysterious passage of time faded from view and Jim's eyes lost their powerful sight, they stood before a magnificent Willow tree, miraculously untouched by the surrounding white snow, green spring grass under it's umbrella of care.

This is what they were meant to see. A corner of the world where goodness and love remained untouched by that which corrupts it. A Holy place in the heart where faith in those one loves, and in those whom one cares, lives on forever.

Jim pulled the crucifix from his pocket.

"I, thought it was lost" Miasma said softly, admiring how it shined in the dawn light.

"Oh ye of little faith" Jim chuckled softly, his voice thick with emotion, "Despise not the small things..."

He lay the cross at the foot of the tree and a gust of wind blew through, that sigh of relief washing over them like a warm blanket, enveloping them in a grateful embrace.

"Do you think we did it? Do you think we did the right thing?"

Miasma asked, taking Jim's Hand, they stood back and watched the willow shiver and shake gently, swaying in the breeze like any other ol' tree.

Jim removed his shoes. Miasma did the same.

Feet on the hallowed earth they stood hand in hand.

"Yes," Jim replied, giving the ghoul's hand a squeeze. He turned to see his friend, face upturned to the sunlight, eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his features as he basked in the feeling all around them.

"Yes angel," Jim said once more, "I suppose we did."

"Hm." Miasma smiled, feeling as if in the glow of the morning, he had wings.

*... he was free...*

[nyan-tame]

WAKE UP ITS 4 AM IT'S TIME 4 II ACT 3 THEORIES

AND HEADCANONS (with angst)

Im 100% willing 2 bet that these will NOT b real take these theories, predictions, and headcanons with a grain of salt 😭😭😭

ANYWAY

TRIGGER WARNING 4 MENTION OF EATING DISORDERS AND GENDER DYSPHORIA

(ITS ALL IN THE PARAGRAPHS ABT MEPHONE BTW SO U CAN SKIP THAT BUT THERES STILL ANGST)

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

mephone will join the shimmers/mephone was masking their shimmer half for years

The shimmers will continue 2 search 4 their lost young and realize that mephone is the 2nd lost shimmer (as revealed last episode) upon realizing this they will get emotional and also apologize 4 what he's been through (even if it's not actually their fault they just really feel bad 4 their child) and take them in to give them the childhood they deserved. This theory ties in with some headcanons i also have.... So cobs says in a flashback (episode 13, i think) that he has no need 2 eat cause he's a machine, right? Well, not exactly, just something along those lines. That's not the case. They're half organic because they are half shimmer. They actually do need 2 eat, but cobs has literally been starving them constantly, thinking that being mostly machine means they'll never be hungry. This is part of the reason mephone thinks they're a "fat slob" and even jokes abt it 2 himself around others but thats just not the case, they quite literally are just fucking hungry. Yes, i think mephone might have an eating disorder. Speaking of shimmers, you know how the other baby shimmer, the green one, was nonbinary implying that the shimmers are a naturally genderless species? I think mephone may also be nonbinary. My evidence? Paintbrush. I think Paintbrush was made as genderless the way they were in season one because cobs thought mephone being nonbinary was like stupid and wrong or something. Mephone projects their grief into humor as their main coping mechanism. Thus, Paintbrush's gender was seen as nothing but a joke 4 a really long time similarly 2 how tissues suffering all the time is seen as a joke and gets no help by his peers which may represent how mephone never got help woth anything even when they really needed it. Paintbrush eventually coming out made mephone feel much safer, something they dont usually feel.. but not safe enough.

The contestants who died by mephone x will get recovered but they won't be completely intact

I highly doubt that everyone is going 2 die permanently. That is not in the nature of inanimate insanity. However, the show LOVESSS 2 make its fandom miserable, so these fellas will not get removed from melife without consequences. The Xed contestants may experience memory problems or will go into a full reset. To make things sadder, I feel like their brains would subconsciously remember the people they had good relationships with even though they themselves don't actually know they've met before. In other words, if anyone sees anyone they had good relations with in a past life, they will subconsciously feel comforted by their presence. Though if these fella do have all their memories intact someone like lightbulb or cheesy will trick a buddy of their into thinking they forgot everything 2 make their friends panic a little just 2 go finger guns at them like "haha got ya" making the audience freak out 4 a moment 2. Who knows, maybe our cast brought someone back wrong, and they did forget everything...

Cobs will DEFINITELY DIE

A while ago on youtube, i think either Brian or Justin made a community tab poll on how many characters would die, 2 being the most popular vote. Literally Mephone wont have a happy ending if that mother fucker doesn't die. I also think the shimmers might kill him last second. But wait! There's another character who is supposed 2 die! I think that's bow, "but Nyan bow is already dead!!" Is what u might b thinking.. and ur PROBABLY RIGHT!!! i accidentally got spoilers 4 only ONE of the permanent deaths (DONT WORRY, NO SPOILERS, YOU JUST GET A LITTLE NUDGE, THE DEATH SPOILER WAS A CONTESTANT) If im still dead set on the fact that cobs will die, it can't be 2 contestants.. at least in my head. Bow, being a ghost and already dead, knows what it's like being dead and won't mind sacrificing herself 4 her friends. Now she can go on 2 the next stage of her afterlife!

ANYWAYSSS THATS ALL BYEBYEBYEBYEBYEBYE!!!

♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆♡☆

[bluebellhairpin]

Tamed.

Kenny Ackerman X Reader

Summary: Working as a bartender you meet a lot of different people. Kenny Ackerman just happens to be one of your regulars. Maybe a friend. Perhaps more.

Warnings: Swearing. Kinda Perv Kenny (but he's a good Uncle so it cancels out ig). Canon Character Death. Reader; drinks alcohol, is called 'sweetheart', refers to themselves as ' the mothering type', otherwise is g/n.

Listening to: 'More Than a Feeling' by Boston - "So many people have come and gone. Their faces fade as the years go by yet I still recall as I wander on, as clear as the sun in the summer sky - it's more than a feeling."

Masterlist || Ko-Fi || Slice of Life Collab

You’d been working at The Lake for two years. They would’ve been quite a pleasant two years working the local watering hole, if not for your own personal demon leering over your shoulder most nights. 

Kenny Ackerman. 

It wasn’t that he was an awful guy. His more sleazy words and looks were only ever that, words and looks. He dared never lay such sleazy hands on anyone - which was half the reason he had never been kicked out. It was mostly due to his endearing quality of how quick he was to throw hands with other patrons - the rowdy ones who deserved to be thrown out to begin with - and he almost loved doing the honours of telling people not to come back too much. 

Either way, he was more annoying than anything else. Plain old annoying. 

Kenny was so closed off that - even after two years of shifts that ended at 1AM where you stumbled out from exhaustion after closing, and he stumbled out beside you from one too many beers - you couldn’t even say you knew his favourite colour. But… 

You did know he rode a Harley Davidson which roared into the parking lot almost every night you worked. He’d tempted you with a ride home on it multiple times, and you’d yet to agree - and as much as you itched to take him up on the offer, the unspoken cat and mouse game you’d started wasn’t going to be ended by you. 

You knew he had a tattoo that stretched over the back of his shoulders - thanks to a New Year's bet that he wouldn’t completely strip and jump off the jetty into the lake (the one the bar was named after). He won over a hundred dollars that night, and promptly shouted everyone their next drink. The tattoo read ‘Ripper’ in big gothic block letters. Not that you remembered on purpose - anyone would remember a tattoo like that, you told yourself. 

You knew he had a sister - he didn’t talk about her much, but he brought a woman in with him once and told you “not to worry your pretty head” about it. She was a pretty little thing, with dark hair and eyes that matched his. She had a manner to her that spoke of a kind soul with thick skin. You liked her, but you’d yet to see her again. 

And you knew he was one of the only patrons of The Lake who could pull off a greasy mullet. Or sing Redgum karaoke while barely being able to stand and still make it sound good. Hell, that somehow made it sound more real, the guy had you almost pouring a martini through tears. 

You had guessed that tonight would be just like any other. 

It wasn’t. 

Thursday’s were about as uninhabited as The Lake got. On a night so humid, and with no reason to get out of the house, no one was around. A storm was smelt in the air, one evening spent at home wasn’t a worry for anyone, if only to save themselves from being caught in the rain. 

Hearing Kenny’s bike rumble into his usual spot was no difficult feat on a night so quiet. You’d just finished fishing out a new box of beer bottles for a fridge behind the bar that was lacking when he walked in. What had you stopping mid-step with your mouth open wide enough to catch flies was who he had with him. 

“Whose fucking kid is that Kenny?” 

Nothing but the sound of The Rolling Stones answered your question. “I could not foresee this thing happening to you.” The jukebox sang. 

Yet the state of the child whose bicep was in a vice grip between Kenny’s fingers only raised even more questions. His face wall sunken in, and eyes blown wide as if taking in the world for the first time. He looked awful. 

Kenny walked over to the bar, dragging the poor boy beside him and pulling him up onto a bar stool before sliding onto one himself. You sat the box down on the floor, looking at Kenny expectantly.

“What food you got?” 

“Depends what you’re looking for.” Kenny looked down at the boy, pointing vaguely. 

“Hasn't eaten in,” they both shared a quiet look, “A while.” 

“M’kay.” You ducked into the back room, telling your chef/manager/accountant/boss that an actual meal was needed tonight, then returned with a pre-made peanut bowl. You slid it down in front of the kid, turning again behind the bar to make up a glass of water and passing it to him also. 

Then you turned to Kenny. 

“I know you don’t like telling people stuff, but for that kid’s sake I’m gonna have to ask you what you’re doing with him.” You said, eyeing the boy as he plunged his hand into the bowl of peanuts. “You don’t really give off ‘dad’ vibes, deadbeat or otherwise, and I really hope you didn’t kidnap him.” He just scoffed. 

“Can I get a whiskey.” he said, looking up at you, “Or are you just good for not minding your business and looking pretty?” 

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not doing bad guy shit. I can let the lewd comments slide, but if you’re doing stuff with a kid you’re not supposed to I’m gonna call the cops.” you said, “No need to be rude about it.” 

You turned to grab the top shelf whiskey as he lifted a hand to push back his hair. He sighed deeply and hunched over as you placed a glass in front of him. 

“He’s my sister’s.” Kenny admitted quietly. “She’s… Died. I’ve got him for tonight. At least.” His words sent a cold but quick shock down your spine. “One step better than government housing or wherever.” You recovered quickly even though his openness had left you grasping at straws for what to say next. It wasn’t like him to give away so much information. 

“I’m sorry.” you’d said, resting your hands on your workbench, then after a few long moments added, “What’s his name?” 

“Levi.” 

The boy lifted his eyes at the sound of his name, but otherwise didn’t move from his now highly converted bowl of nuts. From the way his hands cradled the bowl, it didn’t look like he’d be sharing them anytime soon. You looked at him, properly, and saw nothing but how sad he must be feeling. 

You didn’t know Kenny well, but you knew him. Enough to know that he was not someone friendly enough for some kid who just lost his mum - whether he was their uncle or not. But could you do about it? You weren’t exactly the mothering type either. 

Thunder cracked in the not-too-far distance as you poured the boy another glass of water.

You hadn’t seen Kenny for a week. 

That was unusual mostly because the longest he’d gone without frequenting your bar was about three days. If you’d known his address, you would’ve visited just to make sure he hadn’t died while looking after his nephew. 

When he finally showed up, you almost didn’t notice him. If it wasn’t for him tapping the bar - a way of asking for a whiskey on the rocks that only he used - he would’ve completely flown under your radar on that busy Saturday night. 

“And where’ve you been?” you’d asked during a moment's calm while the other bartender poured drinks. 

He looked up at you, slighting his hat up with a pointed finger so he could meet your eyes. He had been so quiet - and he looked so tired. It was no wonder you barely noticed him when he was so out of character. 

“What, missed me didcha?” But the snark didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Where’s the kid?” 

“At home.” he mumbled into his glass, tipping it up and drinking half in one go. When he met your eyes again you raised an eyebrow. “Not alone - I’m not that stupid sweetheart.” 

“I’m five minutes from the end of my shift. Buy me a drink.” 

“No thanks.” He scoffed at you. 

“That wasn’t a question.” You said, starting to turn away, “Kahlua with vodka, thanks.” 

Going back to work, you kept an eye on him. Watching as he downed the rest of his drink in (again) one go. He got the attention of the other bartender, ordering another whiskey, and a kahlua with vodka. 

When you returned to the front of the bar after ditching your apron, you found Kenny sitting with his back towards you at a table near a window, with both drinks before him. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen to me asking for a drink.” you said, patting his shoulder as you came around to sit at the seat across. He smiled a little - but it was nothing like the wide wolfish grins you normally saw. 

“You weren’t askin’, remember?” 

“You didn’t have to listen.” you said, sipping on your drink and taking a proper moment to look him over. “You look horrible by the way.” 

“Jesus, thanks sweetheart.” he said into his glass - but took a much smaller mouthful of his drink compared to before, “You know how to make an old man’s night.” 

“The kid’s been putting you through the ringer, huh?” His eyes met yours and you saw his shoulders slump - barely. 

“That obvious?” he asked. When you nodded he sighed, slumping back in his seat with his hands ruling over his face and into his hair under his hat - his gangly legs stretched so far under the table that they slid between yours. “He’s a downright brat. It’s ridiculous. Karma has it out for me, I can see it now.” 

“It surely isn’t that bad, you might just need to get used to it - it’s barely been a week -” 

“I found him standing behind me in the kitchen holding a bread knife.” Kenny said, leaning forward on his elbows to whisper. “I think he wants to kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t be the first.” you said, taking your turn to speak into your glass while you drank. 

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” you scoffed, setting the glass down again, “But after two years, I think I don’t want that so much - just give him time.” 

“You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me doesn’t want me dead?” 

“‘You seriously trying to persuade me that an eight year old who hates me does want you dead’? Listen to yourself Kenny.” You said, mocking him, but making him think seriously at once. “He’s lost his mum, you’re not so cold to think a boy would want to lose another relative again so quickly.” 

You felt his legs shift between yours - they pulled away, but not enough. You could still feel the warmth of his calf press against yours. “Anyways, with how you wave your pocket knife around so - he might’ve just been trying to copy you.” 

“Right,” he said, lifting his glass to his lips and casting a long glance out the window. “Kids do that, don’t they?” The conversation entered a lull as you both took turns sipping your drinks and staring at the lake lapping at the jetty. A comfortable silence if you ever knew one. 

The air around you changed as the jukebox started a familiar riff of AC/DC. “She was a fast machine, she kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman that I ever seen.” 

Kenny looked at you, downed his drink, then spoke. 

“Wanna take me up on that ride tonight?” he asked. You broke out in a grin. 

It was still warm outside, and the gravel car park crunched under your feet as Kenny led you to his bike. 

There was a thrill sitting hot and heavy in your gut. The fact you had said yes to Kenny to a ride home - perhaps more. Did you want more? He was attractive, in an older man sort of way, and despite all the gross things he could say sometimes he was still a nice enough guy.

Heaven knows you could both use a chance to get laid.  

“I was starting to wonder how much longer I had to work on you before you finally said yes.” he said, breaking away from your slide to throw a leg over the seat with a grin. His hand outstretched to offer help to get on behind him. “Lucky for you, I'm a patient man.” 

As you slid your hand into his, you climbed on - soon finding that in order to be comfortable you needed to be pressed quite close to his back. But you were feeling like being a tease too. 

“Maybe I’ve liked making you wait.” you hummed, chin pressed to his shoulder as you spoke into his ear. You felt him chuckle under your palms as he kicked the engine into gear. 

“Maybe I’ve liked waiting.” he said over the machine’s roar. 

[oscconfessions]

Tbh I really want to do a rewrite of Object Terror. I used to be a fan of it through like 2019-2021. I'm not a fan anymore because I realized just how bad the writing is. I feel like it could have potential if it wasn't so edgy and it actually fleshed out the characters.

Like wdym this new co-host, S'mores, is a demon? Wdym he's collecting souls for mf Satan himself to “prove his worth?” Why is he targeting these random ass contestants of an object show? Why not just go out and collect random stranger's souls off the streets? WHY ARE THERE DEMONS IN YOUR OBJECT SHOW?? And furthermore why is the elimination area hell itself? Why? How? Does this mean when the characters are eliminated via falling spikes they ACTUALLY die? That can't be because one of them, El Nudelo Spider, comes back. Unless S'mores somehow brought him back because they became friends in hell? Why? Does Satan know about that? Does S'mores have to get a pardon? Will he get in trouble if Satan finds out he brought a soul onto earth? There's just so much shit happening for no reason. It's unnecessary.

Don't even get me started on the characters. Literally half of them can be removed because they add NOTHING to the show. Plus they have like zero personality. We don't know a single thing about Skittle besides that she's nice and silly. Dude half your cast is nice and silly. Also this may be nitpicky but why is it such a sausage fest on the show? Out of 25 characters 19 of them are dudes. I'm not saying it has to be 50/50 with the gender but it's really noticeable here how unbalanced it is.

There's no reason for the show to have gore, either. The creator actually responded to this complaint with that the whole show takes place in another world and that the sentient objects aren't objects. Just ugly little creatures. Okay cool concept but 1. You don't have to have so much gore it makes the Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise shudder, and 2. What?? If that's the case why does Beer shatter like a beer bottle should? Why does Magazine rip and tear like a paper? Why is it when Coffee Cup quite literally explodes, it's coffee? If they're ugly creatures shouldn't they just be flesh and stuff? Why does it change between objects dying like objects and them dying in the most gruesome ways?

The writing is absolute garbage too. It started off as a comedy but slowly turned into an edgy bloodbath with some comedy in it. Good lord, the comedy. Half of it is just screaming, and the other half is outdated memes. I mean it had the fucking mlg air horn in the first episode. It also had Beer and Trowel in episode 5 making out for literally seven seconds before it cuts to the Carpet and Stapler finding out and being shocked which like. Was that an attempt at comedy? I didn't find it funny at all I was hella uncomfortable when I first watched it (and now that I had to rewatch it again to see how long that was.) First off, why? That was completely unnecessary and the make out happens with no build up. Second what the fuck are Beer and Trowel? They're written as friends but then have a random make out session for no fucking reason. Shit I'm with Carpet and Stapler I was shocked too.

This was supposed to be a confession on how I'd write Object Terror but it turned into me complaining about it. Uh. Anyways What I'd do is remove some of the characters (ie Honey, Fart, Mint), give the rest personality and interests, get rid of the gore and maybe the demon shit. I'm tired this show makes my brain rot whenever I try to understand it. The demon and hell shit is what's bugging me.

I'm sorry for this long ass rant lmao I bet the people who didn't watch Object Terror probably think I'm insane

.

[bothwolvesandgirls]

So i actually wanted to wait before talking about how i feel about the JJK ending in case my thoughts changed because i tend to have emotional, knee-jerk reactions.

After waiting a few days; I still hate the ending

spoilers under the thing

Im gonna be nice and start with what i liked.

I love that the kids are (relatively) fine. Im glad theyre happy. Im glad theyre alive. They deserve the world. I love them.

I actually really, really loved Sukunas ending. Its easily the best writing we got in these last five chapters.

....and thats about it.

And, if im being completely honesty, Sukuna and Uraume having such a well written end kind of pisses me off because like... so it was possible for everyone else too? All these characters could have had meaningful endings? It was possible all along?

Because these last five chapters have been rushed as fuck and everyone can tell the pacing has been all over the place. There is a reason that the Dream Theory became popular, you can only explain inconsistincies with dreams/hallucinations.

These characters, these teenagers, just got out of the most traumatic fight of their lives... and they just carry on? Why aren't they given a moment to reflect? And I mean beyond their battle strategies and what they could have done better.

Why did no one talk about Gojo? Other than talking about how it was all his fault? Why was his death not acknowledged? His students love him, we know they do, why would they not talk about it? He was cut in half, he almost won, they bet on Gojo. He died.

And no, i didnt want a ten-page funeral or anything, but zero acknowledgement??? We get a blink and miss grave moment for tsukimi, also badly handled btw, but Gojo gets nothing?

Yuta fucking wore Gojo's corpse. Its not mentioned.

What is the point of having Yuta become a "monster", to have him not let gojo be the only one, if its not at the very least talked about. Yuta loves Gojo, this was a horrible thing to do, he said so, but we dont get a moment other than a quick (weak) explanation on how he survived when we last saw him it was in Gojo's failing body, on the floor.

Nobara just might be the only character thats brought back to life as a shock value and I love her more than anything but what was the point beyond shock?

Megumi gets the absolute worst ending in my opinion. He doesnt progress. We are told over and over again he has insane potential, he can be incredible, he can do so much... but the writing never allows him to progress as a character. He ends where he starts.

Characters were killed off as shock value and then we find out, randomly, they didnt die actually. We learn about new shadow style lore when it adds absolutely nothing to the story in the final five chapters.

And I will say it, Yujo was nothing more than a shock value moment. It cant be anything more than a shock value moment when its not acknowledge as one. It was shocking, it was there for a little bit, and then it ended randomly.

some ppl are acting like ppl are angry at the ending because Gojo didnt come back but the ending would be just as rushed and bad if he had come back.

(and my very personal thoughts on Gojo is that it would have been cool if he did come back. I dont see how his story can complete when gojo doesnt progress as a person either. He saw himself as a weapon and he died as a weapon and he was used as a weapon. Wouldn't it have been more powerful for him to learn beyond that? For him to learn how to make human connections? for him to finally stop chasings geto's shadow? It would have been powerful if the strongest sorcerer of modern age came back without his six eyes but whatever, i digress)

Im not even going to get into all the plot points that are just left in air because i dont think i have the time for it.

And no, an ending doesnt have to have every single little thing be explained in it to be meaningful, it doesnt have to have everything you want in it to mean something, but this is clearly rushed and it upsets me because i love this story.

I love jjk, i love the world, i love these characters, i think its super cool and it love it. But now all i can think about is the rushed five-chapter end.

It doesnt even end the way it pretends it does! The ending makes you believe the cycle of abusing sorcerers is over, that sorcerers arent cogs in the machine, that the shady HQ people are dealt with... but students finished a mission (easily, sure), higuruma isnt charged and he guesses because higher ups did something about it, and these kid-soldiers arent given time to reflect about what happened and carry on.

We have a whole arc called "premature death" like this. The cycle doesnt end, no matter what the ending wants you to believe. As far as the story is concerned, its going the same way.

Hell, the finger is placed in the same place it was originally stolen from. (Im not angry at that, its cheesy but thats it)

Look i dont hate gege. I think he's terribly burnt out and i sympathize with him because we know how the manga industry works. I just wish this could have been handled differently.

So... no, its not The Worst ending of all times. Gege isnt some demon.

Its just... disappointing, i guess, that this is the ending such an incredible story got.

[darkx-the-dragon-kn1ght]

Chapter 34- Part 8

Oh, Salazzle is the last Pokémon! Look at that, I guessed four out Aya's six Pokémon correct! And best of all, it seems like this Salazzle isn't holding an Air Balloon, so…there's nothing stopping Crater from using Earth Power on it! With Shimmer providing Psychic backup, of course.

Nevermind, only half that plan is working out!

Ah, okay, fair enough…and Nidoqueen’s just using Sludge Wave, that shouldn't do too much damage to-

…Wait, doesn't Sludge Wave hit all Pokémon? Even the ally? Wait, that means Salazzle’s gonna-!

HAH! Don't need to worry about doing that with Telepathy, baby!!

Alright, Shimmer being poisoned still isn't ideal…but instead of keeping her in like this, I'm gonna switch her out. Looking at my current team…the best bet would probably be Wulfrum. Nidoqueen is either gonna use Stomping Tantrum on Crater, in which case I'm about to Super Potion her anyways, or it'll use some other move to finish off Shimmer, in which case Wulfrum should be able to tank it. 

Man- poor Wulfrum. I brought him to this fight as extra immunity against Poison shenanigans, and I ended up not using him at all. He's just been sitting there, in the back of the party, waiting for his moment to join the fun, and he only gets to come out at the very end.

Anyways, like I said, Crater's getting healed too-

And Nidoqueen used Sludge Wave again, perfect! So Crater will use Earth Power, and Wulfrum will…um…use Double-Edge, I guess??

Wow, Wulfrum’s really not allowed to do anything in this Gym. I was thinking to myself “it's really nice to have a Steel-type this time, I didn't have that when I fought Corey”, and I- I actually could have just done this with a team of five.

Aya's bluntness aside…it has been three thousand years since this has happened, but at long last, after everything the last few chapters threw at me and Xera, I have once again managed to beat a Reborn Gym on my first try! And it was a Double Battle too!! Now that's character development!

And another upside to genuinely being able to win first try- spiting Fern, who didn't! Take THAT, you foolish fool!

Oh yeah- and besides, isn't losing battles as much part of a Gym Leader’s job as winning? They like- test challengers to see if they're truly worthy of the Badge and strong enough to take on the rest of the League, that sorta thing.

…Man, why did my first first-try win against a Gym Leader in…quite a few chapters have to be against someone with such deep troubles as Aya? This just feels bad now! It's like I said earlier, it's like a hollow victory- and I was feeling good about the win at first, too…

Oh hey that's the title of Chapter 17! Fascinating that this chapter has so many callbacks to back then.

Cain’s the younger sibling? Huh- for some reason, I assumed Aya was the younger one. Probably because I mistook her for being closer to a teenager, but if she's older than Cain, that's obviously wrong too.

But then…how old is Aya supposed to be, anyways? And how old is Cain, for that matter? I've been assuming he and the other two rivals are around the same age as Xera, whose own age was vaguely listed as “Adult” at the start of the game, so like- who the heck knows at this point.

Previous

Next

[on-wine-dark-seas]

Is there a JJK character (or characters) that is popular but you don't like? I don't like Geto, I feel he's a boring and obnoxious character who is only popular because of Gojo... In fact I would bet anything that if Haibara had been in Geto's place he would have the same popularity as Geto because he's only seen as the other half of a ship. I don't like Nobara either. I know a lot of people like Nobara and loved that Gege brought her back, but to me she's a character that doesn't offer anything interesting. Even her personality isn't really likable, she has no meaningful relationships with anyone except for Yuuji and a little Maki. In short with or without Nobara the story would stay the same.

I wanted to like Geto, I really did. I think there's a lot to be explored with regards to his downward spiral and all the symbolism used between himself and Gojo [the black and white beta fishes particularly]. I also think had he not spiraled after Hidden Inventory his ability would have been perfect for defeating the Disaster Curses and eventually Sukuna himself. Gojo definitely wouldn't have gotten yoinked by the Prison Realm on Geto's watch...and Gojo might have been a totally different person had Geto's fall from grace not pushed him to be more responsible and empathetic toward others.

But.

But his fans made me dislike him. His fans made me dislike the ship with him and Gojo to the point where I have every iteration of that ship name muted. They're fucking obnoxious, but especially on Twitter. And according to the kids, they're all over TikTok [I never use TikTok so I don't have to suffer that side of the fandom]. Attacking people for shipping Gojo with anyone other than Geto is kind of insane. And you're right: his claim to fame is literally his proximity to Gojo.

He was such a dull and uninteresting villain. Like the way he was acting in JJK0 I lost what little interest in him I had. And I can't even see the appeal of fucking him because he's like...a whole ass eugenicist. That and his chosen slur for non-sorcerers makes my fucking skin crawl for...well, obvious reasons. Shipping him with any of my OCs would have been a fucking crime.

Kenjaku did Geto better than Geto did and I stand ten toes down on that, tho.

Other than that, tho, I don't particularly think too hard about the members of the cast I don't care for since I can't credit Gege with being particularly good at fleshing out all his characters. He does just enough to slot them into the story, but you can tell a lot of them were concepts he should have left in the oven a little longer [or left on the cutting room floor]. I might change my tune once I do a proper, uninterrupted reread when I've got all the volumes on my shelf. I'm not built for that weekly serial life, anon! 😭

[pink-bird-30]

Titans 4x10

SPOILERS AHEAD

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Oooooooohhhhhhhh what an interesting episode indeed!

I knew that we would get a fun episode when they decided to have a crossover with Doom Patrol.  I have not had the pleasure of watching Doom Patrol yet, but I have loved these characters since Titans season 1.

“Mowing Mother nature’s Bush”

Cliff lines are always out of pocket, but this one was honestly great.

I thought it was interesting how Gar created this “home” and made it half nature and pulled Cliff, Larry, and Victor into his version of Doom Manor.

But I was so happy for how excited Gar was to see Cliff and Larry, his little jump hop into Cliffs arms was too cute!

Oh, and the playfulness between Gar and Vic, it was really fun to see.  I felt like I was watching an episode of Teen Titans with those two.  I’m really glad we got to see them on the screen together, even if it was for a short while.

Okay, we gotta talk about Connor Luther, aka Anti-hero Era Connor.

I gotta say, I like that Connor was being straight forward with Sebastian, giving him an out from doing something that he doesn’t want to.  Although I for sure knew he had ulterior motives from the second he sat down at that table with Sebastian, but damn.  Anti-hero Connor is something else.  Straight up taking over Lex Corp, taking the throne as CEO…wow.

What a man.

But the next scene between Sebastian and Mother Mayhem was brutal.  We all knew she was using him since day one, but the hurt on Sebastian’s face when he hears her degrading words,

“You are nothing”

My soft spot for Joseph Morgan had me jumping from my seat ready to fight.  All I knew is that Mother Mayhem was NOT going to have a good mother’s day and I’m glad he burned her to a crisp.  She honestly deserves worse.

But ding dong, the witch is dead….at least for now….

As I have mentioned before, Bernard always has great one liners,

“Bald headed psychopath”

Too good.

The scene with Kori, Dick, and Rachel was interesting.  I think this is the first season where this trio sticks together the most.  But when Rachel tells Dick she was better off dying than Kori, and Dick saying no one is dying, does this mean Dick has finally comes to terms that maybe someone will die?

First it was him denying prophcies,

Then it was denying more prophecies,

And now he thinks no one is going to die.

My man, we have 4 seasons of batshit crazy situations, you’re telling me at this point where the Titans are on the losing side of things you don’t think that someone will not die? *eye roll

Now we have Kori entering Gar’s World and Dick and Rachel running off to dabble in dark magic.

What is this show?!

We have Kori entering “the red” and popping Vic in the face, which was hilarious.  I’m glad Gar and Kori reunited again, that made me very happy.  My little mother son duo back together again.  

But honestly, I bet when Kori realized she was stuck in another random place again, she must’ve been sooooo over it.  She just escaped Caul’s Folly and now she’s stuck in this house Gar created.

Can we agree that Vic is 100% smitten with Kori?  Like look at that man gazing at her when she hands him the bag go cold peas.

Same, Vic.  Same.

The conversation between Kori and Gar was important.  We can see Gar told Kori she was there for a reason and that there is something she needed to work through.

Alright,

The tennis scene, absolutely amazing.  Gar and Kori were kicking ass while Vic and Larry were struggling big time.

But they brought up that thing.  The thing in the DC universe that a lot of us don’t talk about because it is a touchy subject and has always been up for debate….

But why did Cliff need to bring up the p*nis debate, just whyyyyy.

Moving onnnnn,

Kori and Gar’s heart to heart,

“I love what he’s trying to destroy”

I-

I teared up, I won’t lie.  That entire scene hit me right in the heart.  Kori needed to forgive herself for not killing Sebastian and I’m glad we were able to acknowledge it.  I trust Kori’s judgement and her not killing Sebastian may or may not be the best thing, but I guess we will find out.

Now let’s go to the deep dark hell Rachel and Dick are dealing with while Kori and Gar are having a grand ol’ time.

First off when that witch says,

“Your weapon is your love for this child”

*Screams into the void

OOOOMMMMMGGGGG

LISTEN, THE UNHOLY SOUND THAT CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH WHEN THE WITCH SAID THIS UGH.

I ceased to exist.

And then the black goop that Rachel threw up and turned into a creature I’m pretty sure I’ve seen on Buffy the Vampire Slayer…girl.  I cannot.

We have Kori and Gar off in lala land, and Dick is fighting a demon, pure chaos and I am going to miss this so much.

Over at Lex Corp,

Sebastian tainted his game and now everyone is a martyr for his cause?  Bernard is in a coma from this game and I am unwell.  Poor Tim.

Going back to Kori and Gar.  When the room starts to close in on them, and Gar and Vic start to go at it, I had a moment where I was so sad that this was the only interaction between these characters.

Ryan and Joivan have such great chemistry, and I wish we had more time with them on screen.  But the few moments they are arguing and then bonding over a movie were awesome.

And of course, Vic saying “booyah” was icing on the cake.

Side note, does anyone else think Dick’s friend in London was Constantine? 

Anyone?  Just me?  Okay.

I love Connor’s face when he realizes he fucked up.  Like he is witnessing Sebastian take over the world and can do absolutely nothing about it.  For a hot moment, I really thought we lost Connor, but when Tim tried hacking into Lex Corp’s firewall, I was so happy Connor had enough sense to help out the Titans.  This gives me hope we will have Golden Retriever Connor back soon.

Also, the way Tim waited for Kori’s permission to commit a felony, top tier respect for mother.

Finally, Dick was able to slay the monster which woooo, but I cannot shake what the witch said to Dick about Death not forgetting him…I pray that is not foreshadow….

When Sebastian realizes the connection between him and Rachel is severed, 

“I can’t feel Rachel”

and then the words from Mother Mayhem echoing

“Without Trigon’s power, you are nothing.”

Shoooooo Today’s episode is going to be wild…

Let’s see how 4x11 goes.  And then there is only the Finale left, I cannot believe we have been on this journey since 2018…

Until next time, let me know how you guys felt about the episode!

[cheryls-blossomed]

I know you’re done with the show but wanted to say a few things if you don’t mind. I’m glad the show is over, it did limp to the finish line and I just wasn’t impressed with a lot of the decisions that were made for this final season but like you I’m moving on. I did want to comment on some things I did like and you mentioned one. That Barry stay giving no shits the minute Iris comes out of anyone’s mouth regarding taking her from him, heart to heart talking Barry goes away with a quickness. I love that they had Iris tell Eddie that it was always Barry, that he was right there was 3 people in their relationship back then she just wasn’t aware at the time, even though we been knew, still great to get that acknowledged on the show and I felt it was a closure type moment. I loved the scene with Barry and future Iris, I’ve rewatched that clip several times because yes, she knows her husband like no other and knew exactly what his younger self needed to hear in that moment. What were your thoughts on Iris acknowledging to Eddie what we all knew since season 1?

Aw, of course, I don't mind, nonnie! You're welcome to come by my inbox at any time to chat about the show. I'm never going to be done done with The Flash, because Iris and Westallen are so important to me.

I love how Barry goes from 0 to 100 with a quickness whenever anyone even breathes the wrong way in Iris's direction. It's happened so many times, and it's such a staple of his character. The biggest reason why Barry basically didn't even want to spend a minute talking to Eva, before entering into a rage, is because she had trapped Iris in the Mirror dimension. Barry tried to pep-talk Ragdoll, before Ragdoll brought up Iris, and then it was, "If you touch Iris..." Like this is a staple facet of Barry's character: will pep-talk anyone, until they breathe in the wrong direction as Iris, and then all bets are off. So, I love how we see that again in his interaction with Eddie in the West House.

I loved Iris acknowledging to Eddie that it was always Barry for her, because this has been clear since season 1, and honestly, when I heard that Eddie was returning as Cobalt Blue for this final arc, I was hoping that we'd get a scene where Iris would say this, and I am so, so glad that we did. In general, I really liked the scene between Iris and Eddie, because I never thought that Iris would be overtly emotional when she saw Eddie. Like obviously she's happy that he's not actually dead and would want to help him, but she's not super, super emotional about the fact that he's back, and that would be even more apparent for 2049 Iris. So, I really appreciate Candice's acting choice in this scene. I really like the moment when she instinctively snatches her hand back when he's truly delusional and half-corrupted by the Negative Speed Force and tried to ask her to marry him. She immediately turns around and tells him that he had said that there were always three people in their relationship, and he was right when he'd said that. Because it's always been Barry and Iris in their own world together, and Eddie knew that in season 1 while dating Iris. From the beginning, Barry and Iris's connection escaped definition. There was always this aspect to them that they transcend space, time, and universes from the very beginning. But it's also the little things to: the Jitters coffee dates, the unequivocal support for each other's endeavors, the wiping-ketchup-off-of-each-other's-faces-while-their-dates-watch-on, the fact that they literally had a dramatic break-up when they weren't even dating and were depressed about it and then like a few days later were like, "I've missed you so much," and just ease right back into their relationship. Barry and Iris are constant. Their relationship has always been romantic. Iris has said, "I've always been Iris West-Allen. I've always been yours." She drew upon their shared most visceral childhood memory to return Barry's memories - the night Barry came to stay at the Wests' house, and she hears him crying and goes to comfort him, and these two children gravitate towards each other's warmth and hearts and and fall in love in that very moment. Iris has known since she has allowed herself to reflect for many, many years that it was always Barry for her. But I've always waited for her to tell some version of Eddie, should he ever return, because it of course unequivocally states what the narrative has portrayed since season 1. I also like that Iris has always gotten the perspective on this both in season 3 and then in 9x12, as she should, especially when she was denied so much perspective on this in season 1. In this moment, Iris says, "It was always Barry. Even back then if I didn't realize it myself." She is stating unequivocally that for her it has always been Barry and it was always going to be Barry, and I love that moment not just because it confirms what we've been saying since season 1, but because it's Iris's perspective on her feelings for and her relationship with Barry, and I so wanted this in season 1 for her in all aspects, but she was denied so much of that in the narrative.

Also, same, I really loved the scene between Barry and 2049 Iris. It was really gentle and loving and romantic, and I just love that 2049 Iris told Barry exactly what he needed to hear - she made sure to answer his question, even after they'd been interrupted by the lightning storm, because she knew he needed to hear how happy they are, and it just... it really speaks volumes to how inherently in tune Iris and Barry are to one another.

[denimbex1986]

'Moriarty’s fake return was the best thing about Sherlock season 4, which puts into perspective how flawed the show’s final season was. While there is always a chance that Sherlock season 5 might happen at some point, “The Final Problem” is currently the end of the show. With a 48% score on Rotten Tomatoes, Sherlock’s season 4 finale is among the worst-received episodes of the show for a variety of reasons. It’s fair to say Sherlock’s final two years never lived up to its two first, with the final season being particularly underwhelming.

BBC’s Sherlock brought the titular character to the modern world and delivered one of the most interesting adaptations of Conan Doyle’s work. Each episode was slightly based on one of the many Sherlock Holmes stories but always with some kind of twist. BBC’s Sherlock had its own language and style, making it stand out from the several other Sherlock Holmes adaptations. Sherlock’s four seasons have an overall positive legacy, but the latter half of the show had too many problems – and Moriarty’s “return” proves it.

Moriarty’s “Return” Was The Highlight Of Sherlock Season 4’s Finale

“The Final Problem” Had Us Thinking Moriarty Was Back For A Few Seconds

Midway through Sherlock season 4, episode 3, “The Final Problem,” Andrew Scott returns as Jim Moriarty in a scene that starts with the fan-favorite villain arriving on the island where Eurus is being kept. Moriarty gets out of the helicopter as "I Want To Break Free" by Queen plays in the background. Between the song and Scott’s performance, Sherlock’s series finale made it seem like Jim Moriarty was alive and about to make his triumphant return. A few seconds later, however, it’s revealed that the scene was actually a flashback set before the events of “The Reichenbach Fall.”

While Moriarty’s return was nothing but a fakeout, it was an exciting moment. Seeing Andrew Scott back as the iconic villain even if for a few minutes was worth it, particularly because Sherlock season 4 had yet to have a big moment that would stick with viewers. The first two episodes of the final season were not really special or particularly clever in any way, whereas the finale was betting everything on a new, original character whose very existence was a big retcon – Eurus. “The Final Problem” retconned Moriarty’s actions in season 2 by tying them to Eurus.

Sherlock Relying On A Fake Moriarty Twist Was Symptomatic Of Its Problems

Sherlock Season 4 Hadn’t Much To Offer Other Than Its Moriarty Connections

The fact that the most exciting moment of Sherlock season 4 was a fake Moriarty return speaks volumes about the problems with the show’s final two seasons. Not only had Sherlock become dependent on its best villain, but the show had also seemingly lost its ability to create new stories that could be as exciting as Holmes and Moriarty’s rivalry. Even if creating a villain as good and popular as Scott’s Moriarty was all but impossible at that point, Sherlock still deserved a better final season and a better series finale.

As a show built on twists, it was no surprise that Sherlock season 4 came up with a shocking reveal for the final episode – Sherlock and Mycroft had a sister about whom the former could not remember. Still, while Eurus’ introduction was indeed shocking, everything about her character felt too exaggerated and cartoonish compared to the somewhat grounded aspect of the show. Tying Eurus to Moriarty felt like a desperate attempt to improve what was bound to be a divisive character. Unfortunately, the problems with Sherlock started way before Eurus’ introduction.

Sherlock Never Topped Season 2, And Seasons 3 And 4 Prove It

Sherlock’s Final Two Seasons Couldn’t Live Up To Season 2

“The Reichenbach Fall” is Sherlock’s best episode by far and changed the show forever, for better and worse. On the one hand, “The Reichenbach Fall” confirmed BBC's Sherlock show as one of the best Conan Doyle adaptations and elevated what was already a very good show. Between the fan theories about how Holmes survived and the pop cultural impact of Moriarty, Sherlock season 2’s finale was born a classic. On the other hand, the showdown between Holmes and his ultimate nemesis might have raised the bar too high for Sherlock.

Sherlock’s seasons 3 and 4 felt like they were trying to play catch up by delivering villains and stories that could replace Moriarty in some way. The show became limited by its success and never allowed itself to try something truly new. That is not to mention the multiple teases that Moriarty was eventually going to return, including the “Miss Me?” scene at the end of season 3, the Abominable Bride special, and the season 4 finale fakeout. Sherlock season 2 was so good that, in hindsight, it strangely ruined the series.'

[x-aileen]

Looking at T'Challa

There is one character compared to all the rest where I feel confident to give a front to back detailed analysis and feel intrigued as well as passionate to write about. That being T’Challa from “Black Panther”. After his fathers death, T’Challa becomes the new king to the throne leaving him to balance a life between a king and protector of Wakanda. As stated from Marvel.com, “not only did the throne of Wakanda pass to T’Challa, but also the full weight of the Black Panther’s responsibilities” (Marvel.com). No matter the situation, T’Challa dives head on to challenge the problem making sure the solution not only favors Wakanda’s best interest for its people and helps those outside of Wakanda. 

T’Challa played the role of a king and a hero. A king who wants to follow in his fathers footsteps and is loyal to his country. And a hero who is responsible for making sure his people and those he loves are safe. Becoming the new king of Wakanda and the Black Panther marks the start of T'Challa’s story. To prove to his people that he will be a great king like his father, he seeks to find the thief that stole vibranium and bring them both back to Wakanda to avoid getting their country from being known to the rest of the world. For years now Wakanda has lived in isolation from the rest of its world to keep their most important resource that brings them technological advancements from being used by anybody else in the world for bad. Outside of Wakanda, T’Challa comes across his long lost cousin Killmonger who was in compliance with stealing vibranium from the museum. While he does fail to bring him to Wakanda, Killmonger arrives in Wakanda unannounced to claim his chance to the throne with the goal of wanting to sell vibranium outside of Wakanda for war. T’Challa essentially “dies” from his defeat with Killmonger but meets his father one last time in the spiritual plane and makes a decision that will forever change Wakanda and its traditions. Reborn again, T’Challa battles Killmonger for the safety and the throne of Wakanda. Then the movie ends with the life changing, problem solving, and tradition breaking decision from T’Challa. 

Throughout the whole movie, T’Challa was so focused on doing things that his father would have done rather than doing things that felt right to him. He viewed his father to be a courageous, wise, and flawless king. Even coming back from the spiritual plane after seeing his father he promised to keep things as tradition follows. Taught to him by his father, he believes and values that Wakanda remaining in isolation is what is the right thing to do. T’Challa’s goal in the first half was to resolve his fathers failure of bringing justice to the man that attacked and killed many people of Wakanda and has stolen vibranium from Wakanda. With the chance of seeing him in person, T’Challa faces solving his 2 most prominent goals as the king of keeping Wakanda isolated by retrieving the stolen vibranium and resolving his fathers failures by killing/capturing the man. One of the turning points for T'Challa character motives and roles was when he discovered Killmonger was his cousin who came to Wakanda unannounced. From him he learned that his own father had killed Killmongers father. This reshaped the way he viewed his father, the goals that he’d have for himself and for the state of Wakanda. After his defeat with Killmonger for the throne and left for “dead”, he confronts his father in the spiritual plane about the abandonment of Killmoger. The reason he is the way he is is because of him being abandoned in the apartment, not even being brought back to Wakanda to get to know his people. T'Challa, upset with how his father handled that situation, lets go of his idealization of his father who could do no wrong. In an interview with BET he say, “There is real life when you find out that your father is not perfect, that he makes mistakes….T’Challa is coming into his own in this movie and trying to figure out what type of ruler he is supposed to be. He has to use his father’s successes and his failures and come to terms with the fact that he can challenge even the greatest of his ancestors” (Father Stretch My Hands: 'Black Panther' & Raising Our Sons To Shine). Not only that but rethinks the way vibranium can be shared outside of Wakanda, something the kings of the past have feared of doing. He makes a new goal that he will now do what he seems is best for his people not based on his father.

After the climactic battle ending with Killmongers death it changes T’Challa. He learns that Killmonger never had a community he can rely on or have opportunities he can look forward to unlike those in Wakanda. He just wanted to fight and help those who are suppressed in the outside world. This moment was the push T’Challa needed to make the life changing decision that he made at the end of the movie : to reveal Wakanda to the rest of the world and help those in need with the abundance of vibranium and technological advancements that they possess. Despite knowing that it might bring danger to his country, T’Challa commits to challenging the past to build a better future for Wakanda. 

T'Challa's development revolved by letting go of past ways and focusing on building a new future with new terms. Stray away from traditions to better himself and for others. He's passionate to keep his country and people safe but also caring about helping those outside of Wakanda.  While I myself am not Black, I would consider T’Challa a hero not only in the movie but to black people who watched the movie. He is able to represent black power to cinema and represent change and growth within the movie to inspire those who watch. Continuing with the same old ways won’t lead to any difference rather change is needed to grow. An idea that can be taken into context inside and outside of the movie. 

[vidavalor]

<<There is evidence of Jesus and Lucifer swapping places. Of God being a demon. Whether you agree is a separate question.>>

Could you show me where you see evidence of these things? I'm asking honestly as I'm afraid I don't really see what you're saying here. I guess one of the reasons why I hesitate at the idea of the idea of God being a demon is that I think that a show that has spent time establishing that demons are angels who ran afoul of a fascist regime and that, with the exception of Satan who is, ya know, the literal devil, most of the demons are actually just the originally anti-fascists... which is also why they all hate the Nazis in 1941... and then makes a point to show that angels can do "demonic miracles" and that demons can do angelic magic so the differences between them basically amounts to hellfire/holy water and different colored feathers... the point of all of that to me is showing that there is no such thing as a demon really at all. It's something made up to "other"-ize angels to help The Metatron keep power. The demons are tortured angels and I bet that the concept of a demon is going to be eradicated in S3.

Shadwell even said how someone might do that back in S1 (and yeah, I know, I'm taking this from Shadwell lol but he gets to be accidentally right as much as the other characters and this scene was Very Important) and that's that you exorcise demons by "bell, book, and candle."

I don't know about you but I just saw Aziraphale light candles and ring a bell in his bookshop before he went with Coffee Dude in a parallel scene to the one where Shadwell brought up how to make demons disappear from the plot so hmm... I'm willing to place a bet on The Marvelous Mr. Fell's greatest trick being making the idea of demons disappear in S3.

In support of this? God referring to Crowley as a person alongside humans when discussing the nature of people in the baby swap and Her narrating the S1 ending in a positive way while explaining nightingales to the audience as the song plays and the lyric is: there were angels dining at The Ritz... The song and God are both calling Crowley a person and an angel in S1 so it's winking at the idea that demons are a made up thing that don't actually exist.

<<Frankly your "God is good" is the standard religious defense of the Christian god. GO is a satire of all that,>>

Whoa, hold up lol. In no way did I say that God was good. I just said She isn't evil. God is a cheeky bitch in her narration and I don't necessarily think all of what precious little we've seen Her actually do is positive. All I said is that what She has done correctly, in my opinion, is the big thing She needed to which is to be on the side of free will for Her creations and doing nothing to get in the way of ensuring that they have it.

There's also nothing "Christian standard" in believing in a God that advocates for free will and actually supports the positive stuff Jesus said to do. You are correct-- the show is a satire. It's making fun of religious fundamentalists who use Christianity as an excuse to hate and who take The Bible literally and who are incapable of critical thinking. That's half the joke with The Sound of Music and the parallel of fascism, like the lack of critical thinking in the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters.

God is Frances McDormand on Good Omens. God has She/They pronouns on this show. Her presentation is part of the satire of fundamentalists, not necessarily religion itself.

Also funny? I'm an atheist so I'm amused if you think I'm defending God from a Yay!Religion standpoint (on my Good Omens blog lol) when I'm pretty much the definition of raised-Roman-Catholic-and-now-is-basically-a-humanist-who-mediates. 😂 I think the single greatest and most bold lyric ever written is "and no religion, too" so I'm sorry for any confusion but I'm definitely not saying that God is Great because I'm defending Christianity. I'm just talking about Good Omens' God, specifically, and I can explain why I think that God can not be a villain on Good Omens and how that can fit with the elements of the show you're talking about.

What makes Good Omens work, imho, is that it's not just a sharp satire. It's about magic. It has a heart to it. It's warm and it's romantic. This means that there needs to be some possibility of the unexplainable or of destiny that probably lingers past the end of the show. There's not an Ineffable Plan in the sense that God's creations are following a predetermined path. She believes in them having free will and making their own choices. But, in Good Omens, God is, to the best of our knowledge, the creator of all of the other characters. Did She maybe stack the deck in the favor of Her creations a bit by making them as wonderfully imperfect as they are? Did She maybe make them with hopes that they'd find each other a bit? Is there maybe not predestined outcomes but a sense of destiny?

I don't think Crowley is wrong when he says in Tadfield that everyone in The Universe has free will... but I also don't think he's wrong in feeling that love is the kind of magic that he-- a literal sorcerer-- cannot fully explain and that, because there is magic in the world that he doesn't understand, he wonders about a sense of destiny or fate in a romantic way that he ascribes back to his creation.

Crowley believes that the same God who he believes (erroneously but he doesn't know that yet) is responsible for his fall made he and Aziraphale for each other. Let's say he's not wrong about that. Let's say there's even some subtle evidence in S3 that he might be right or it's left open a bit. Either way, it wouldn't make the show any less of a satire. I don't see the show as being a satire of spirituality so much as it's a satire of fundamentalism.

Maybe it's just my soppiness showing lol but I don't even believe in God and this was romantic...

...I'd be fine with a wink to the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale are fated and wouldn't find it incongruous with a show that balances dealing with darkness and its skewering of religious and political extremism with a soft heart and romance and magic.

<<because there isn't a binary between treating people like dolls you should have total dominion over, and letting your child eat bleach.>>

You're arguing for God's dominion if you believe that it's Her role to "stop the children from eating bleach" by keeping Armageddon at bay. It's not. Her creations are autonomous beings. They don't need Her. They have moral compasses of their own and can look after one another and hopefully will choose to do so. Why would God make beings that look to Her for guidance? Who is She to tell them what to do? She made them to be able to do for themselves, not blindly look to Her for everything. It's the religious fundamentalists the show is satirizing who say that God is in everything and God has a plan and it's all God's will and just pray. God isn't responsible for the bad decisions of Her creations-- they are. Blaming God is the same thing that the people the show is satirizing do instead of taking responsibility for their own actions.

<<A promise not to drown everyone again isn't kind, it's deranged. You know what kind of person says shit like that?>>

Yes. The Metatron. As I mentioned above, there's no evidence whatsoever that God ever said that. Aziraphale has simply heard that God's "a bit tetchy" so his orders came from another angel, who got them from? The Metatron.

Just as there's no evidence that God wrote the permit to take all that Job owned. The God of S1's narration is not a God who would believe that Job owned his kids but The Metatron would view those kids with the patriarchal sense of ownership which which he views all of the angels. Again, I'll say I believe the character that's credited as The Voice of God over the character who claims-- with zero evidence-- to be the one who can speak for God any day of the week and twice on Sundays.

<<An ineffable plan that does not exist is not evidence of good, it's a different kind of immoral: did you plan to let your kid eat bleach or did you sit there with glee claiming you wanted him to do the right thing and couldn't possibly tell him anything because that would "violate autonomy"? Again, ignorance isn't bliss: that's the point of the apple.>>

It's a little frightening that you think that what would make God not be a villain is for Her to exert control over adults. God's creations are not four year olds with bleach. That's not a viable comparison. You are advocating for Her to control autonomous beings and make decisions for them. That is not freedom. Freedom is having the choice to make mistakes. Adults don't need God, just as they don't need their parents to intervene because they're adults. You are equating adult beings with small children who need minding and that's a little scary.

This show that has themes of autonomy and its relation to freedom has plenty of villains already. Heaven and Hell are stealing memories, inflicting trauma, endless verbal and physical abuse. It still, though, would very much be in violation of the character's autonomy to show up and take over and do all the work of Her creations for them. Why would She want to do them more harm and take more from them?

<<You can, however, eat your cake and have it too, if "cake" is not cake but the same thing it represents in the Lockdown audio. That cake is not destroyed in its eating, continuing to exist for another round. Infinite rounds, one could even say.>>

"Cake" is masturbatory fantasies in Lockdown. Can we at least agree on that? 😂 I'm sure he did some literal baking, too, but everything Aziraphale's telling Crowley that he has been "baking" with inspiration from the "cookbook sextion section" of the shop is euphemistic for a particular type of fantasy he was using to get himself off since he and Crowley last spoke. When Crowley suggests he "slither over" and watch Aziraphale "eat cake", he's expressing interest in watching Aziraphale masturbate. So, I guess, if we're on the same page about that and that's what you meant, the infinite rounds you mentioned are theoretically possible but in the interest of keeping this from becoming a debate about refractory periods in supernaturally human bodies, I'm going to just kinda leave it here and wish you a pleasant evening. 😂🤗

if the fly was outside the box when aziraphale went to pick it up. and the fly is his "him". do you think the fly lead him to aziraphale? from where ever he was before?

[theresoneicouldcallking]

rich dotcom and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

[rcksmith]

Distracted — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “shit, i forgot. I'm the one who asked for smut prompts #30, #31, #61 and #96. Could you write them for Five Hargreeves? Thank you! So sorry to spam you with the asks X-X”

Smut prompts :

30. “I’d hold on to something if I were you.”

31. “Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.”

61. “what would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?”

96. “I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.”

Couple: Five Hargreeves /Fem! Reader.

Warnings: smut heavy, NSFW, dirty talk, swearing, degradation. (I was in a bad mood hkjskjs)

Word count: 4k

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Let me know if you want to be added for a taglist for a specific fandom (Criminal Minds, The Umbrella Academy, Riverdale, Roman Godfrey, or all)

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — — —

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. It was explicit, hanging from his chest on a giant sign that said: “ABANDONATE THE HOPES IF YOU ENTER HERE.” And he knew that.

Inside his body he housed a sarcastic, explosive and sulky soul, with no patience for half the world. Everything about him exuded a dangerous, authoritarian, arrogant energy, mixed with distilled look that have always been able to subdue anyone.

Five is the type of man who, while everyone dreams of easy solutions, he knows that if he wants something to be done he will have to do it himself. He likes a hunting, taking the lead in any situation, having no problem breaking rules to make things happen.

And he was perfectly comfortable with that. Taking control of his world. Until, of course, you show up. Taking the key to his Olympus as if it had always belonged to you.

You were the one thing that Five Hargreeves couldn't subdue. He was unable to impose to you his reputation as a man who should not be challenged. Because that was exactly how the world saw Five. Like a man you don't challenge. Even his siblings realized, after a certain point, that it was not advisable to play with him.

But, apparently against all common sense, none of this had an effect on you.

You were not afraid, or pondering your words. You rolled your eyes at the things he said, mocked his arrogance and always looked at him with a combination of a smile and a look that, holy mother of God, Five hated. It was the typical expression that said: “ I know a lot more than you do, but I will be quiet because you are not worth my time.”

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But you raised it to stratospheric proportions.

It was completely exasperating, outstanding, you were a brat who didn't hear the voice of an adult, so used to being daddy's little girl. Because that was how he saw you. You were only 24 age while he was 30. It was expected that you heard him! But no. You did not give a damn.

“If you listened to me and chose the Colombian, that wouldn't be so bad!” Five scolded again.

This was the twentieth time he had said that to you.

There was a routine with the Hargreeves siblings: you brought coffee on Mondays, since you passed a great coffee shop on the way. Diego was responsible for bringing Japanese food on Wednesdays, Luther for Indian food on Fridays and Klaus for pizzas on Saturdays. It was a banal thing, but it brought a comforting feeling of, no matter how not anyone would admit, tradition.

But it was obvious that you had to piss Five off on that too.

“And I already said that they don't do the Colombian before ten in the morning.” You passed the page of a magazine you were reading, ignoring his tantrum.

“And you can't wait ?!”

This time you looked up at Five, giving a mocking expression.

“Oh, forgive me, your majesty. I will delay my journey just because your eexcellency wants Colombian coffee.” You laughed, turning your attention to the magazine.

Five felt the tips of his ears heat up, the fingers of his hands go white from the force that he clenched his fists. You were so fucking annoying!

"You are unbearable." He said, because he saw no other way to express the hateful little monster you were.

You looked up at him again. “Serious? Me? You are the one who is complaining about not getting your blend coffee.” You turned your attention to the magazine “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

What?! Fucking what?!

Five opened his mouth in bewilderment, now anger rising up his neck. How dare you, fuck?! You were younger than him!

"What did you say?!" He repeated, his voice low but deep, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

You didn't take your attention away from the magazine by replying: “Like a child who didn't get chicken nuggets in the shape of dinosaurs.”

Oh, no. Oh fucking no.

Five slammed the coffee travel cup on the kitchen counter, walked over to you and closed your magazine brutally. You looked at him indignantly.

"What a fuck ..."

But Five didn't give you time to finish. He stuck both hands in your arms, forcing you to get up from the chair so quickly that the object fell to the floor. He pushed you back, lifting you up and making you sit at the wooden table, his eyes still on fire with your words.

"Child, isn't it ?!” He snarled, spreading your knees with his hands, settling his body still standing between your legs.

You were wide-eyed. Looking at him in amazement. Your heart was pounding in your chest so hard that you thought Five would be able to hear it, while your breath had been lost somewhere between the path from your lung to your nose.

Holy shit.

It was no secret that Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. This was not an opinion, it was a fact. With midnight hair, emerald green eyes and alabaster skin, it was not surprising that he was able to steal his breath wherever he went. And you were not immune to his charm. To be honest, you never thought it would be.

But the difference between you and the girls who fell at his feet was that ... well, you practically lived with the guy every day. You had been friends with Klaus for two years, and as a result you ended up becoming friends with the brothers and captivating them. It was almost atypical that you weren't with them. So, as a result, you ended up having time with Five too.

And, truth be told, it destroyed your will to want to impress him. As was common whenever see someone beautiful. Five Hargreeves was, in every way, arrogant. Irritating. Unbearable. Maybe it was your lust mixed with irritability, but you decreed that you didn't like him. That you would never want to fall into his bed.

Well…until now.

Until he accommodates his fucking tall, lean, firm body in the middle of your legs. Until his hands are glued to your arms in a touch of fire. Until your heart was racing like never before.

"You called me a child, didn't you?"

You wouldn't be able to answer anything in that second, even if your life depended on it. So you just nodded, a slow, cautious nod, like prey looking at hunter.

"I will show you my age!"

Five kissed you. In a way that no one had kissed you before. It was something hungry, angry, full of lust and with a desire that made you sigh softly. His hands were still on your legs, coming down to the back of your knees and pulling you firmly forward, sticking your whole body against his in a possessive way. His tongue invaded your mouth without waiting for an invitation, renouncing everything you had to offer as his.

That was a really kiss.

You put your hands on the back of his neck, running your fingers over the silky, black strands, letting your body be pressed against his as if you had been waiting for it a lifetime. Five pulled your legs closer, guiding you to close them around his hips and, once you did, his hands, determined and hungry, roam the sides of your body possessively.

"Five ..." a groan cut off your speech when his hands clung to your waist, pressing the hard and firm member to your core covered in the thin legging pants you wore.

"You already moaning and I haven't even touched you yet." His voice was overwhelmingly arrogant, full of amusement and convincing.

You were going to answer, because you weren't the kind of girl who kept quiet with a tease, but Five's hands made your waist roll around handily against his member, and a louder groan interrupted any line of reasoning you had.

“Oh, how adorable.” He scoffed, lowering his mouth to your neck and closing a hickey where pulse was “I wonder how the moaning will be when I do ...”

His right hand moved up to the inside of your thigh, rubbing his thumb in circles until he got to where you needed it most. “This.” Then he forced the movements where your clitoris was covered.

Your groan was louder than you would like to admit. The air became caustic, rarefied, the atmosphere became something breathtaking, claustrophobic, poignant. And, before you know it, it was already a wet clay in his hands.

Five Hargreeves had won. He had you exactly where him wanted.

Your moans grew louder when he tuned his thumb movements together with his pelvis movements against you. Your hands tightened on the back of his neck, your teeth closed on your lower lip in order to contain the volume, and your breathing was shaky. Your hips pushed against him, the thin leggings being smeared by the arousal that oozed from you, and as soon as his hand was only an inch away, you followed it with your hips.

“Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic.” Five played with the voice at the bottom of your ear.

You pulled the air against your teeth, whimpering, wanting anything he could give you.

“I bet ...” his lips slid under your skin without kissing, just making you wish, up to your lips and hovering there, a sigh away “If I asked you to take your clothes off and let me fuck you in this table like a good whore, you would gladly do. It is not?”

His free hand went to your face, taking a stir of your hair out of your eyes and placing it behind your ear. You were unable to contain the moan, closing your eyes tightly for a second, trying to contain how much your body screamed.

"Y-yes." You whined.

“Good." Five sprinkled a kiss on your lips before walking away.

You opened your eyes, your chest rising and falling with your heaving breath, your legs shaking. Your body screamed in protest at the separation, and you sent him a confused and inquiring look.

“You will learn who is in charge here." Five gave you a sly smile. "I'm only going to fuck you when you understand this."

Then he turned his back on you, took the coffee and disappeared in the blue flash.

This son of fucking bitch!

- - -

You were angry and frustrated. To say the least. Your body was on fire and mind replayed that day over and over in your head. It had been four days since Five's little exploits in the kitchen, and, to be honest, not only had he started the teasing.

Five gave you malicious and discreet smiles, gestured a lot more with his hands when he spoke just to remind you of what they could do. He hovered his body close to your whenever possible, brushing his shoulder against your, his hand gently on your back when he needed to pass beside you. His fingers even slid under your thigh under the table when you were having dinner. It was always like that.

And you were already crazy.

In the beginning, you sent him and their little game go to hell. He was not going to get what he wanted. But as the days went by, and Five started to touch you more often, the fire inside you burst, and it felt a lot less... torture if you just... gave in. The thought of sleeping with someone else just to appease that didn't bring you the same euphoria, you didn't just want sex, you wanted Five.

You knew he was playing with you. Just wanted you to give a sign that you were surrendering, so that he could give you what you wanted.

And after seven days, you gave in.

It was Monday, your mood was already an angry monster, but this time, you arrived a little later.

“Y/n, you are lateeeeee.” Klaus sang from the kitchen, biting off a large chunk of whatever it was before he sat down.

Vayna, Luther and Five were also at the table. Vayna and Luther talking about nothing important and Five reading a book under metaphysics.

"Traffic."

You lied, placing the tray of coffees in the middle of the table. Five and Luther were the first to get, Vayna still getting used to coffee addiction.

“Allison and I are going to watch something today. Why don't you come with us? ” You sat next to Klaus, throwing one leg over his.

"Is it going to be in the cinemove?”

He denied “In the living room, you can sleep here after."

You shrugged. “Okay.”

"Did you go to a different coffee shop?" Luther raised his eyebrows, having just swallowed his coffee.

“No, why?”

“It tastes different.” He drank some more.

“It is Colombian.” You put the cards on the table, in a game that only you and Five knew.

You didn't look at him, but you could feel his eyes on you and a sly, malicious smile brushing the right side of his mouth. That was the only interaction that you felt Five driving you that day. The hours had passed and it was already one in the morning when the movie in the mansion's ended. It was not atypical you slept in the mansion, the guest room was almost called “your room” at that time. But there was… there was something different this time.

As you unbuttoned your pants, with the night breeze coming in through the window, you thought that maybe it was because you never slept there having feelings for one of the siblings. So impure feelings. There was something about sleeping under the same roof as Five that made you ... nervous. But as soon as you removed the piece and placed it on the bed, the blue flash flashed behind you.

Your whole body went tense, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your heart was racing as if, suddenly, you had just returned from a marathon. You swallowed, the heat of his body hitting your back, while his hand went up your arm gently.

"You are such a good girl." Five's voice made your legs tremble, the butterflies in your stomach roll.

In this moment, feeling things that you never thought you would be able to feel, you wished always were a good girl for him.

"Did you do that for me?" His mouth joined the pice of your shoulder and neck.

You knew he knew he did, but the bastard wanted to hear it from you. Five wanted you to confirm that he had won.

“Yes” You whispered, the moonlight allowing you to see when his hand went down to your belly, playing with the cos of your dark blue panties.

"I knew you would be a good girl for me."

Then, taking you by surprise, Five pushed your chest onto the bed, bending you over, pulling your hips towards his with the other hand. You sighed when you felt his already hard member hit your pussy just covered by thin panties, now wet with your mess. Your hands closed on the sheet, your heart almost screaming in relief at the contact of his body behind you.

God, you wanted him so fucking much...

“What am I supposed to do with you?” Hargreeves reflected on a rhetorical question, his hands sliding over your surrendered body, squeezing your flesh with a force that would leave marks.

You whimpered, rolling your hips over his member. "Please"

“What would people say if they knew you were such a slut for me?” Five slapped your left cheek.

You moaned softly, tightening the sheet, your body refusing to remain an inch away from him. Your hips needed more from Five's, your whimpers increasing as he took off your panties and ran his fingers through your wet folds.

"Five!" You moaned louder, biting your lip as he played with your entrance.

"Should I just fuck you with my fingers?" He caused your entry with two digits "Or with my dick?"

You were an incoherent mess, days of denial and desire that burned arthrosis in your body.

"Answer me!" Five slapped you again, this time louder, more grotesque, making you cry out.

"Y-your dick!" You tried to say, “P-please. Fuck me with your dick, please. ”

You were desperate, that was the truth. Desperate for contact, desperate for touch. Desperate for anything that Five Hargreeves could want from you. Anything he wanted to give you.

"Hard?" His voice was now dark, slightly wicked.

“Y-yes! Please!”

Then Five stuck his hand to the back of your neck, curling his fingers in your hair and pulling your face up, making you face the ceiling as he leaned over and snarled at your neck:

"How hard?"

"Give me all!" You begged “Please, Sir. Give me all."

That title seemed to drive him out of his mind. Because the only thing you had in response was the sound of his belt falling to the floor and the rustle of his pants and boxers down, his right hand never leaving your hair. You groaned in anticipation, tears pricking your eyes from the desire that had accumulated so long when you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance.

Five lowered his mouth to your ear, holding his hand more in your hair as he said: "I’ d hold on to something if I were you. "

Then he entered you. Hard, rough, wild. Opening all your walls and spreading your abundant liquid all over his dick. You opened your mouth in a silent scream, your nails etched hard on the sheet, tears streaming from your eyes without warning. Five gave you just a few seconds to settle for his size, starting to beat inside you at a relentless pace.

This time you screamed. Your heart pounding in chest, your pussy pulsing around Five with so much desperation that you heard him moan and curse behind you. The pace was rough, heavy, wild and full of lust. He fucked you like a rabid animal, devouring everything you had to offer, filling every last inch of you. The sound was of pornographic moans and bodies clashing with arrogance, filling the entire mansion with sounds that would not be forgotten.

"S-sir!" You moaned loudly, pushing your ass to Five at the same rate, making he hit the deepest spot inside you.

“Fucking such good slut!” He dumped one more slap on your ass, freeing his hand from your hair and joining both of them at your waist, pulling you towards him in an heavy rhythm.

Each thrust was an electric current poured into your body, excitement running down your thighs and melting both of you. Five groaned louder, leaning over and biting your shoulder, clenching his fingers aggressively against the innocent skin on your waist.

“I think you forgot to lock the door, that means anyone could walk right in and see you like this.” Five blew in your ear, receiving a loud groan in return, as yours tears flowed.

Your pussy tightened around his dick, pulsing in such a tight way for he.

"Oh, would you like that?" He teased you, feeling your walls tighten again. “I bet you would love to everbody see the slut you are to me. ”

"Sir!" You screamed, throwing your head forward, pressing your forehead to the sheet as you sobbed.

"Answer!" One more slap.

"Y-yes! I-I like could show that I'm your slut! ” You sobbed.

Five came out of you, making you whimper loudly in frustration. He turned you over on the bed, placing you in the center as he climbed on top of you, settling in between your legs and entering without warning again. You screamed, sinking your face into his neck as your legs closed around his waist, pulling his deep into you.

"Such a good bitch."

Five felt your limit riding fast, leaving you more breathless, tearful and desperate. You no longer measured the volume of your moans, your hands clenching your nails on his back, your waist rolling around to make him inside deeper.

"S-sir!" Then, without being able to control yourself anymore, you exploded. Came in long streams of broken moans and shaky breathing.

Your head fell on the pillow, your chest arching while you were on top of the climax. Five groaned at the scene, his limit being your expression of pure ecstasy. He sank in you as anatomically as possible, filling you with the hot liquid that overflowed from inside you.

You were both panting, sweaty and tired. Five let himself relax on top of you, partially loosening his weight, still stirring a few strokes to ensure that you had welcomed all his cum.

"Good girl." He praised you, giving you a small kiss on the neck, stepping out of you and rolling to your side on the bed.

"That was ... wow." You laughed softly, trying to catch your breath.

Hargreeves laughed too, taking the time to get out of bed, looking for the boxers and pants. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly not knowing what to do or what to say. Your heart sank at the thought of him leaving, and your mouth was faster than your common sense in saying:

"Wait!"

Five turned to you, his brows furrowed in question as he buttoned his black pants.

"Can you ... could you ... stay?" You took a chance, your cheeks quivering under Five's intense gaze that never left you.

But, instead of the denial you were expecting, his eyebrows furrowed even more in doubt.

“But I am not leaving.” He said it as if it was obvious.

Did you blink a few times “No?”

“I was just going to get a towel to clean you up. There are certain things that I don’t like do naked.”

You opened your mouth to answer, a little shocked, but Five disappeared in the blue flash only to appear a second later, with a towel in hand. You sank into your own shame, muttering softly to yourself in incoherent sounds, you let Five clean you up.

“Did you think I was leaving?” He scoffed when he finished, looking at you with that smug look.

You rolled your eyes, turning to the side on the bed, your back to him.

"No." You mumbled.

Five laughed, settling better on the bed. "Come here." He said, patting his chest.

And, well, as much as you would like to consider yourself a rebellious girl, you did. Turning to him again, you snuggled into his body, laying your head on his chest while Five pulled the blanket up to cover the two of you.

Five Hargreeves had a bad temper. But at that moment, with you, you did not fail to notice the lazy and caring circles he made on your shoulder with his thumb.

Tagged: @bubblegumflamingos