#i have vivid dreams of brutally murdering him.

[the-pigeon]

I'm so glad you (at least in your pinned post screenshots) share my sentiments about gnf.

Not sure how old it is, but fucking hell, why does the internet go simp for him?

he is simply British.

[lemonidae]

Nitro+Chiral VN

Togainu no Chi

In a ruined world, seeds of new chaos. In the years following a third world war, a devastated Japan is divided between two rival factions with no hope for reconstruction in sight. Caught between East and West, Tokyo has degenerated into a brutal, crime-ridden wasteland. Like many of those reaching adulthood in this dark new world, a young man named Akira seeks some kind of meaning in the violent street fighting contest Bl@ster. But even as he rises up the rankings, he feels almost nothing. Is this all there is? In Toshima, a district of Tokyo ruled by the mysterious syndicate Vischio, the blood sport Igra makes Bl@ster look like child's play. Competitors have the chance to win control of a drug empire worth more than in their wildest dreams, but losing a bout means losing your life. When Akira is arrested for a crime he didn't commit, a strange woman appears with an even stranger offer: he can regain his freedom if he fights his way to the top of Igra and destroys Vischio from within. What dangers and revelations await Akira on Toshima's pitiless streets? Is he strong enough to survive them?

Buy: Steam | Jast

Lamento: ~Beyond the Void~

The game takes place in a fictional world inhabited by Ribika (who look like humans but have cat ears and tails). Their world has fallen into dark times -- a mysterious void has made some places (and even animals) impossible to touch, causing major food shortages. A strange and deadly disease that has killed off a large percentage of the female Ribika population is also spreading. The hero, Konoe, exists in this miserable world, living alone in the starving village of Karou who have turned to cannibalism. The story begins with Konoe in Karou, where he suddenly begins to see horrible dreams and strange marks appear on his body. This is believed to be a curse so Konoe heads off to Ransen (the big city) in order to heal his body…

English fan translation: How to install | Game files ver.1: onedrive | Game files ver.2: internet archive

(Patch could not work if the game is updated to version 2.00)

Chiral Mori

This is a fan disc of the Nitro+ Chiral characters, featuring 3 mini games. Various characters from Togainu no Chi and Lamento -Beyond the Void- are included. Play poker against cute chibis of the Togainu cast, or test your typing speed with the furry-eared guys of Lamento. There's even a strange version of the Puyo Puyo falling-block game for you to enjoy.

more info here

Sweet Pool

After recovering from a serious illness, Sakiyama Youji hoped that things would finally get back to normal. But shortly upon returning to school, his world begins to change—and no one seems to notice. Bizarre symptoms plague his body, and vivid hallucinations of blood and flesh stalk his every waking moment. At the same time, two fellow students — the stoic Tetsuo and the notorious troublemaker Zenya — begin to take an intense and inexplicable interest in him. What are Tetsuo and Zenya after? Are his hallucinations really nothing more? Everyone seems to know more than they’re letting on—but by trying to put the pieces together, Youji may be sowing the seeds of his doom.

Buy: Steam | Jast

Dramatical Murder

"I will destroy you." Midorijima. Situated to the south of Japan, this beautiful island was once a place where people lived in harmony with nature. Then the Toue Corporation took over, driving off most of the island's residents and forcing those who would not leave to live in the shadow of Platinum Jail, a walled-off megaresort where the wealthy wallow in luxury. Aoba is a young man living with his grandmother in the Old Residential District, the last refuge of Midorijima's people. While his peers join gangs and fight for dominance of the streets or immerse themselves in the virtual reality game Rhyme, Aoba works part-time at a junk shop and hopes only that his peaceful life will last. But strange things are happening on Midorijima, and Aoba will soon have to fight… or lose everything that he holds dear.

Buy: Steam | Jast

Slow Damage

The year is 20xx, and the declining nation of Japan has built the ultimate casino resort: Shinkoumi. This “special economic zone,” once known as Tokyo Waterfront City, is functionally its own separate country under the complete control of a private managing organization known as the Takasato-gumi. But of course, a city with open doors has its dark side. Amidst the rampant crime and decay, degenerate hedonist Towa lives each day like it’s his last…

Buy: Jast

nitro+CHiRAL tumblr fansite : nitrochi-paths

BL game downloads: BLpaca

sources:

[makingspiritualityreal]

Hi 🌻 Hope you are rocking in life right now! (This might get a bit dark..includes mentions of deaths and violence..but none have my involvement, just experiences)

I had a curious question and I wonder if I could understand it better if you had some insights to share.

So..since my Rahu md started, I had quite a few experiences with death. Not of close ones or anything, just in general..as if I have become more "aware" and "sensitive" towards death. Let me elaborate. I wasn't the type who was into watching news or such, but I became too emotionally involved with 1) death of a woman (absolute stranger I saw on tv) who was brutally murdered and whose body was cut into several pieces and disposed by her live-in partner. I saw myself in her and cried for days.

2) death of a girl (saw on youtube, happened 10 years or so back, definitely was a murder ...she was strangled.. but still nobody knows who killed her..strangely, her own parents were convicted and had been serving the prison sentence..they still claim they didnt kill her .but things were sus)

3) suicide of a celebrity (which some people think could have been murdered) this man rose to fame from rags

4) suicide of younger brother of my brother's childhood friend ( a year back) . This was too close. I didnt know him personally, but it did leave an impact on me.

5) death of a girl who lived on the first floor of my building. Again, I dont know her, but she was of my age and her parents claimed she was sick and some people are saying she was murdered by her own parents.

6) weird burnt meat smell I am getting these days from the front door of my house, every evening following her death..which is really weird because never happened before.

7) seeing from my window, dead bodies being carried in covens on the street.

8) my vivid dream of the Parsian Tower of silence and a gruesome dead body whose internals were being eaten by birds.

9) seeing a group of street dogs brutally ripping apart a cat, at night.

10) witnessing a gang fight where a group of weirdos struck their own member's head with a rock over some argument or something (damn, I had never imagined it existed in real life)

These are some of my experiences that have left an imprint on my mind. I am not paranoid, and I accept death (not to forget, the death of my ego..several times, over the past few years and how my reality keeps shifting and changing). I do see a recurring theme of the "head" being severed or involvement of parental figures..but I am not certain.

During the initial months of the rahu or ending period of mars, I admit, I was a bit hopeless and lost and did fantasise about dying. I don't do that anymore and think we will die someday anyway. I have resolved to see this body as a means of divine manifestation and work.

So my question is, what themes do you see in these experiences of mine? Any nakshatra imbalance or prominence you feel is going on? What strikes your mind when you hear about these? It would be nice if there is some astrological aspects that seem to be playing out for it would make much more sense and give a direction to my perspective.

Deeply grateful for all of your work.

May we all find true happiness and look after ourselves with ease.

Rahu Dasha

You didn't give me any details of your Rahu or your chart in general that could give me an indication of what causes such a result. Certain Nakshatras definitely have a tendency to produce such results, but it depends on the house, aspect etc.

Every Mars or Rahu in every chart is different, so each dasha will produce a different result and there is a number of chart factors that will determine that, making a Rahu dasha unique for everyone. You can't associate any of the events you mentioned just with these Grahas, much less interpret anything that happened to you without astrological context.

Everything that happens to us is for a reason. Death for one person will mean something else than it does for another. These events exist for a reason in your life, but that's why we have Astrology to help us decipher what we should be looking for and what is life trying to teach us.

The theme of Rahu in general, as you can find in many of my articles, is developing cold blood. After the strategizing of Mars, we take our tactical tendencies to a new level. As a malefic, Rahu teaches us about the ultimate meaninglessness of certain attachments and gives us a brutal reality check. That is initially painful, but then we become accepting of it.

[onceandfuturelesbian]

been having very vivid dreams lately sO

list of people that appeared in my dreams last night, ranked from normal-ish to weirdest:

- my mom

- my sisters

- my sisters friends

- unnatural spider (i am petrified of spiders)

- some random girl (maybe someone i saw on tinder ???) (we were kissing)

- kit connor (the hs obsession is real)

- joe locke was mentioned (hs obsession again)

- rhea norwood (cause we stan imogen and i think she was maybe there but def mentioned)

- will gao was also mentioned i think (obession needs to chill)

- arthur pendragon (bbc merlin) i think he was there

- morgause (bbc merlin) was definitely there. she brutally murdered someone by snapping his legs backwards then snapping his neck. plus smthn else cause there was lots of blood. twas graphic. she was also stabbed through the heart with a sword.

- i think lancelot (bbcm) was the man she murdered. i also think they’d been romantically involved but she didn’t actually care about him ??? so when he questioned her methods, thinking she’d listen cause they were together, she snapped and killed him ???

- weirdest one yet: morgause’s mother was cora aka the queen of hearts from once upon a time. (a show i watched like 6/7 years ago and never finished). and she was the one to kill morgause. morgause held on her knees by chains in a room made of cards and cora stabbing her through the heart with a white sword with red hearts on it.

ofc there was more ‘plot’ but like what the fuck is going on in my brain

[saturnsorbits]

An absolute queen of angst, BTP is holding no punches in this piece as she outlines what is honestly one of the most heart wrenching (Ha! Do you get it?) plot lines I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Taking the trope of soulmates, a bone chilling Villain Reader and sprinkling in her own charm and style, this short snippet will be sure to leave you both at the edge of your seat and with ice in your veins.

Starting out, we begin with a tale as old as time. Boy meets girl, boy discovers girl is soulmate... Only, in this story, there is no happily ever after. Instead Bakugo Katsuki, the man who will stop at nothing to become everything he wishes to be isn't interested - playing extremely true to his teenage self pre-self development. 'He, wanting nothing to do with a soulmate or predetermined anything at that point in his life, rebukes [his soulmate]' – and so, Reader's story begins. (Also as a quick side note, the way that sentences is structured is glorious. The use of those parasythetic comma's breaking up the sentence give the entire thing a sense of tone that almost makes it seem as if it's from Reader's mouth herself. It's drawling, both in a narrator fashion, while also obviously being imbued with emotion and it's fucking stunning).

It is this, that rebuke, however – that becomes the crux of our villain story. Having Reader's somewhat innocuous disappearance overshadowed by the story keenly switching to Bakugo's point of view is a clever detail. It allows for us to stew, to wonder and wait in the wake of Bakugo's cruelty and the rumours. The note of Bakugo only 'car[ing] about... [being] left alone' is also made more callous, coming to us directly after we read of the rumours – one of which includes her supposed death (A little tit-bit that will come back to us later). Adopting Bakugo's point of view, we continue to follow on in his footsteps as he achieves, almost, everything he wants. He would have it all, if it wasn't for that one final task.

Reader's villain MO is a perfect fit. 'Bodies left with their hearts ripped out' not only holds a sense of vicious irony, but is brutal and vivid enough to catch the want to be number one's eye. There is no shying away when it comes to Reader's crimes and it pays off so well. Having her undergo a full villain arc with no cracks in her facade is daring and yet, perfect in this instance – as is her sickly sweet reintroduction as she undertakes the last efforts of her plan. 'Hello, sweetness... Remember me?' and damn, how could Bakugo forget. The all in move of having her murder Bakugo's wife, live to him, no less is bold and brilliant. It hits the audience right in the chest, providing an insurmountable sense of gravity to her actions which is only doubled down on when she hands herself in contented in the ruined ashes of Bakugo's 'love'. A love that should have been her.

Those closing lines, after the deed and their reuniting, is a slap in the face in the best way: 'Bakugou got what he wanted. He achieved his life long dream, and with the help of his soulmate too. Destiny sure has a cruel sense of humor.' If only he hadn't of been such a dick, huh.

All in all, this idea is stunning and executed perfectly. BTP brings her A-game, always digging down into the deepest recesses of angst to produce only the best of works and this, one, yeah – this one fucking hurts.

!!: death, little gore, villain reader

Soulmate AU where you're Bakugou's fated one and you meet while you're both 17. He, wanting nothing to do with a soulmate or predetermined anything at that point in his life, rebukes you. He spends the whole summer once he meets you making it very clear that he wants nothing to do with you - to the point of being cruel. Long story short, he makes your life a living hell and no one helps you even though they see what's happening.

And starting the final year of high school, you're never heard from again. Some rumors say that you moved away, up north, where no one would know who you were or why you and your family moved. Others say that you signed a contract overseas for the rights to your story as a rejected soulmate and there's a book and show in the works. And a couple hushed rumors that float very low around school that year say you died.

All Bakugou cares about is that he's left alone.

Fast forward to 25 year old Pro Hero Dynamight. He's got it all: the job, the house, the wife, and the child. You haven't crossed his mind in years. You're a distant memory from an angsty teenage summer.

Dynamight, not able to crack the Top 10, is sure that this case he's assigned to will propel him higher in the ranks, and he's so close to taking down a group of villains who have been terrorizing the city. Bodies left with their hearts ripped out. It started out slow; one every three months, then that became one every two months, and now there's nearly one every two weeks.

Evidence was scarce. No one had any idea how many people were involved, what the connection between victims was, anything.

But the villains who did it slipped up - a nearly botched job that left clues. Bakugou's gunning for them, and he's going to make sure that no one is their victim again.

So imagine his surprise when he gets an email from the tiplines set up that only contains a link. It's a countdown with ten seconds remaining. They're broadcasting the crimes now.

It starts. Bakugou's blood runs cold as a masked face comes into frame.

"Hello my sweetness," your sugary sweet voice flows easily through his computer speakers. "Remember me?"

He remembers. Oh how he wished you really had died.

"I hear you're looking for me," you pout and step back and walk beside a chair where your next victim sits strapped to a chair, bag over their head. "So I went by your place, and who did I find? None other than..." With a flourish, you rip the bag off the person's head. Bakugou watches his wife struggle against the restraints.

And he's helpless to watch as you plunge a knife into his wife's chest and carve out her heart, her silent screams and thrashing coming to an abrupt end.

"It would've been easy to kill you, my love," you cackle, "but I wanted to make sure that you get to experience the pain that I felt." You squeeze the organ in your hand before dropping it to the floor. "To put it simply, me dear: if I can't have you, no one can. We were made for each other."

In the end, you don't even put up a fight. You walk up to his front door and ring his doorbell. No outfit, no weapons, just someone who looks like the girl next door from eight years ago. You hold out your wrists and wait for him.

Bakugou got what he wanted. He achieved his life long dream, and with the help of his soulmate too. Destiny sure has a cruel sense of humor.

[flying-nightwing]

Life Lesson (Never kidnap a Wayne kid)

I gotta say, I love crack fics. It's my passion. This is why I'm posting almost 8K of pure bullshit and I'm not even ashamed about it. Maybe I'll start my own crackverse? We'll see.

So I thought about this after I imagined how much of a fucking nightmare the bat kids would be in a deadly trap game like SAW for the poor bastard that decided to kidnap them. And lo and behold, this is what I came up with.

And hey, you might even enjoy it if your standards are low enough! (I think it's hilarious)

Characters: Dick, Jason and batsis!reader

Word count: 7820 (lol)

Warnings: Language (a lot of swear words), terrible puns, batkids being little shits, horrible editing job, somewhat graphic death threats I guess, chaotic bastard siblings interractions, Cass and Duke are not adopted yet :(

Summary: The perfect deadly trap was set, ready to capture the brutal murder of a bunch of rich kids and show it to the world to make a point. They chose their targets and let the game begin. However, they made one tiny fatal mistake: they brought in the Wayne kids as their first victim.

You were always the one to have weird dreams.

Like this one.

It was pretty vivid. You were in a glass cage, stuck like an animal at SeaWorld doomed to be on the other end of kids' pointy fingers and nerve wracking taps on the glass while their parents either looked at their phones or sputtered misinformed facts about you. Stop doing that, you fucking morons, you kept yelling in a language they couldn’t comprehend. But they kept staring and pointing, faces you couldn’t differentiate yet that looked all the same for you. The colors of their shirts created a vortex, distorting their voice, calling you from another dimension…

“(Y/N)!”

You jolted awake when someone kicked your foot, your very human foot. You raised your head quickly--too quickly--only to bump against an invisible wall. Your eyes adjusted to the room, seeing a semi blurred picture of Jason in front of you. Then your eyes trailed to the structure framing your head, creating a cube of plexiglass around your head. The aquarium!

“Uh?” You blinked, definitely not understanding what was happening. You slowly sat up, palming the Cube. “Why do I have a glass cage around my head? Is this Dami’s doing?”

Jason snorted. “Nope. I don’t know what is happening, or where we are, but at least you’re not him…”

He sidestepped to show you the rest of the room, where Dick was sprawled star-shaped, strapped to a round device. He seemed only mildly bothered by his condition, if only annoyed by the fact he hadn’t found out yet what was happening either.

“Hi (Y/N)” He greeted. “Glad you’re finally joining us”

You waved back at him, less than enthusiastic to be there. The walls were tiled like it was an old gym shower room, coated with several layers of dirt and grim obviously accumulated over the years. There was a tray with rusted tools on a desk, bloodied shower curtains without an actual shower, and tubes that were linked to your Cube. Nothing that seemed like a good time in your book.

“Why is he the only one not to be restricted in some way?” You frowned, pointing an accusing finger at your brother.

“That’s what I was saying!” Dick replied, wiggling his hands despite the restrain on his wrists.

“Hey, if you keep going on like that I won’t help--”

Jason was interrupted by an old TV in the upper corner of the wall turning on, the gray snow in it releasing a screeching sound until the image stabilised itself to show a still figure with a deer skull mask. You and your brothers looked at it, waiting for what would come next.

“Welcome to my home, Wayne siblings” A distorted voice, actually, a mix of many male and female voices tangled together, greeted you. “You might--”

“You should hire an interior designer!” Dick called. "Your home sucks"

“You might--”

“Boring” It was Jason’s time to interrupt.

“Shut up you little brats!” The Deer was now angry. “I’m trying to tell you that you are all gonna die!”

“Yeah, like everyone and everything” You shrugged. “The only certainty in life is death”

"That's deep" Dick hummed, nodding along.

The Deer sighed. “I will enjoy watching you suffer”

“Why are we even here?” Jason walked toward the TV. “I had a date tonight, for once”

“With Roy?”

“Shut up Dick” He yelled. “It’s a she”

“Oh! Do we know her?” You asked excitedly.

“No--”

“SHUT UP” The Deer shouted, bringing back your attention to him. Honestly, finding out about Jason’s love life was a much better alternative than finding out whatever was happening to you and your brothers. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, you brats!”

“That’s the same insult twice” You remarked, and you were sure the person behind the mask was glaring daggers at you. You held up your hands in surrender. “Alright, go on”

“You are here to start a new wave” Deer person began its speech. “The people are tired. Billionaires keep getting away with anything, and we are here to show them it will not be the case anymore”

“I’ve got a question,” Dick spoke up. “Two, actually. First, who’s ‘we’? Is it like, an actual organisation or you’re talking about you and your deer mask? Second, you know that if you want money for our freedom, you just gotta ask nicely, right?”

“We are a new organisation born from the shadows, we are the People” It replied cryptically. You rolled your eyes in sync with your brothers. “The point of this whole thing is to show the rich they can’t just buy anything. The public will be broadcasted the tapes of you dying, knowing there is nothing your parents could do, or buy, to stop this”

“Question” You raised a hand. “You do know we are adopted, and that you picked the three Wayne siblings that didn’t come from money right?”

There was a pause, Jason nodded in agreement. Dick came from the travelling circus, Jason came from the street, and all you had known before Bruce added you to his Brady Bunch were medical debts from your sick mother who passed away after battling cancer for nine years.

“Should have picked Tim and Dami” Dick mumbled under his breath. “Just sayin’”

“It doesn’t matter” The Deer brushed off. “The lesson will pass all the same”

“So now what, Bambi?” Jason asked, hands on his hips. “You kill us?”

“Not quite” It chuckled. “You will be faced with hard choices to save either sibling in every round, until one remains. Then, if the last one standing can live with the guilt of having killed their kin, they will be released. If not, they will have the option of killing themself”

“... So a rip off of Saw?”

You waited for the Deer’s answer, an eyebrow raised. You were testing its patience and you knew it.

“The first trial will begin in three… Two… One…”

An alarm sounded and the neons began flickering. You felt the first stream of cold water run down the tube and into your cube, while Dick began spinning. “Ok, we need a plan”

“Agree” You called from your Cube.

“I think we should start by (Y/N)” Jason suggested. “Will you be fine on your wheel for a moment, Grayson?”

“Just peachy” He grinned, giving a thumbs up.

“May I point out that the Wheel of Torture has an unique feature” The Deer began on a sinister tone. “Every second, the wheel expands a little more, until it tears at your limbs and rip them from your body”

“Good thing I’m flexible then” He didn’t lose his grin as Jason began working on your cube. He checked for loose screws, or a way to cut off the tubes filling your little fish bowl with water. He went to check the rusted tools, but nothing was sharp enough to cut through the material. For your part, you tried to find a weak point on the inside, but it was very hard with just your head.

"This is the Seaworld dream all over again" You mumbled.

"Still having that dream huh?" Jason briefly looked over his shoulder to you while he checked the room.

"Apparently so"

“Seriously, Rudolph, you didn’t think this through” Dick babbled in his corner. “I’m literally an ex acrobat, I’m used to having my members stretched while my head is upside down. (Y/N) can hold her breath for like, eleven minutes”

“That’s true” You nodded, feeling the water reaching the base of your head. You couldn’t do much more while Jason was looking around the room for tools to get you out. “That’s a funny story, actually. I trained for it because I wanted to prove Tom Cruise I was better than him after he all but said I'd be a terrible co lead for the next Mission Impossible"

“Would you shut up?” Jason grunted at you. You didn't notice you had lifted your chin up and stretched your neck to its maximum to keep your mouth out of the water. “Last thing we need is for you to choke on that water. We don't know where it's been”

You shivered in disgust at the thought as he appeared in your field of vision with the rusty pliers. You took a deep breath and held it as water rose up to your nose, and he began working on the structure of the cube like a surgeon trying to operate on plywood.

“Oh and the best?” Dick laughed. “The guy you left in charge of getting us out can and will punch through anything”

You met Jason’s eyes, who paused his attempt to undo the metal structure of your cube. You tilted your head through the water, shrugging at his calculating glance. How did neither of you think of this before? He nodded at your silent approval of the primitive method, bracing yourself for what was to come. He pulled his fist back, carefully planning his aim and where to stop not to knock you out in the process, probably. Hopefully.

“Close your eyes, Tiny wing” He warned. “It might blow the fuck out and I don’t want you to sue me for making you go blind”

You shut your eyes tight and pulled your head back as far as you could, then placed your hands on each side to help keep the Cube in place. So you wouldn’t fall back and get a concussion either. The impact came seconds later, making the back of your head bounce on the back of the aquarium. Pieces of plexiglass flew everywhere and the water began flowing down on your shirt.

“Oh great” You groaned when you finally opened your eyes. Your cube was open, only one half of it remaining behind your head. You managed to pull it off of you and chuck it in a corner. “Now this has turned into a wet t-shirt contest. This is a fucking nightmare!”

“You’re welcome by the way” He replied with a roll of his eyes, but still helped you get the cage out.

“Hey guys, I’m still spinning over here”

“Oh right!” You perked up at Dick’s voice, remembering there was still one sibling left to save. You went over his torture device, twisting out the water from your shirt on the way. Jason took the lead, trying to pull off the rusted restraints from the wheel. You, however, took a step aside and observed the mechanism.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’re both here” Dick began, his voice just a little strained. “But it’s starting to pull for real now”

“I thought you said you were flexible” Jason snorted, still trying to find a weak spot in the cuffs.

“Hmmm” You furrowed your eyebrows at the small motor creating the rotation of the board, then at the board itself.

“(Y/N), a little help?”

You looked up at Jason, his face red with the effort.

“Do y’all think this bad boy could support a classic Wayne hug?” You asked, an eyebrow raised. They both looked at you like you were crazy, before realization hit them at the same time. The synchronised reaction was cinematographic.

“WAYNE HUUUUUUG” Dick yelled, and you took off in a head start. You jumped on the wheel first, grabbing him in a koala hold. He was stapled pretty close to the wood, so it was hard to have a good grip, but you managed to hold on just fine. It became easier seconds later when Jason jumped behind you, his longer limbs allowing him to grab the outside of the wheel.

The motor groaned and creaked, until the board tilted backward and broke off the mechanism. You felt yourself collide with the floor, but Jason took the most of the impact. He coughed as he was crushed by not only your weight, but Dick’s as well.

“Get. off.” Jason grunted, trying to push you off of him.

“Wait a minute, Gramps” You mumbled, pushing off Dick first. “Fuck you’re heavy”

“Ya think?”

“Boohoo Jason” Dick rolled his eyes as he fell back with the board, still strapped and stretched over it. “It must be terrible being you right now”

You stood up and went to stand around the round board, leaving Jason to stand back up by himself. You put a foot down, lined up perpendicularly with Dick’s elbow. You bend down and grabbed the edge of the board.

“I’m gonna break this off” You warned him. “Keep your arm soft”

“If you break the arm though, I’ll make you regret it” He smiled sweetly.

“Just be glad I’m not Jason” You huffed. “I’ll be careful”

“Hey!” Jason called out, offended.

“On three I’ll pull, okay?” You directed your glance back to Dick, and he nodded. “One--”

You didn’t wait until three. You pulled on the wood before he could tense once again, cracking it without breaking his arm. He yelped in surprise before glaring daggers at you. You shrugged with a small grin, moving to his other side and doing the same without the countdown this time. He was now free to sit up, his wrists however decorated with splintered pieces of what remained of the wheel still stuck on the metal cuffs.

“What about my legs?” He pouted, waving his arms around.

“Hey Blitzen, we passed your first test” Jason yelled at the TV. “Could you lend us a screwdriver now?”

A long scrambled sigh followed. Guess they did not expect you’d get out that easily. “I’ll see you on your next trial then”

The TV went dark.

“What do you think they mean?” You asked.

“Maybe they’ll come here to fight us,” Jason snorted. “I hope it’s that. I’m dying to punch his stupid mask for making me waste my time”

“I hope I’m off this wheel of misfortune for it”

You blinked slowly, feeling suddenly weirdly light headed. “Hey, is it just me or--” You leaned forward, holding onto Jason who also lost his footing. “I’m feeling… A little… Wobbly”

Jason tried to hold you up, but his eyes were closing too, his balance definitely affected. You both crashed on the ground next to each other under Dick’s concerned glance, no doubt joining you soon enough.

Then, the world went black.

---

You woke up in an entirely different room.

This time, it looked more like a disaffected factory. There was dusty machinery and water leaking from the pipes above your head. The dense air smelled like lead over the obvious mold and decaying of the structure. The first thing you did when you regained consciousness was to check for any type of restrain on your body. You sighed in relief when you found out you were free, but that relief was short-lived when your eyes trailed up the scene in front of you. Jason was hanging upside down wrapped in chains, looking not amused at all.

“T’was about time” He gritted when your eyes met. “Once again late to the party”

“You know I take a lot of time to wake up from anesthesia!” You shouted back. “It’s not my fault!”

“Yeah well,” He scoffed, then coughed. His face was red from the blood flow. “Gotta work on that”

“Fine, I’ll grow another set of wisdom teeth just to get gassed up,I guess” You rolled your eyes. “Where’s Dick?”

“Over here”

You stood up and turned around to see him standing up and annoyance written all over his face. You noticed his metal collar wrapped snugly around his neck with the obvious shark pikes around it, and the dented snap traps that restrained both his hands.

“Yikes” You flinched.

“Welcome back, Wayne siblings” The TV opened again and the Deer greeted you. “This step is pretty self explanatory. Which brother will you choose, (Y/N)?”

And just like that, the room came alive. Both mechanisms turned on, and you looked in between your brothers.

“Hold that though, Prancer” You shouted as you evaluated the situation.

“Oh god, I’m in a meat grinder” Jason whined as he looked down. “Hurry, Tiny wing or they’ll make burgers out of me”

“How fast are you going down Jay?” You called, a frown settled on your face. You looked at Dick, analysing the mechanism of his device.

“Slow if I keep being still,” He replied. “I’m guessing if I trash I’ll go down faster”

“Then stay calm” You ordered as you went to Dick and took a moment to observe his unfortunate set up. If you were right, it was a snap trigger that could go off any time. You had no idea if it was time or movement that set it off, but you were not ready to take any chance.

“I’m really over that guy” Dick snorted when you came closer. He was careful not to move too much, as the pikes were really flush to his skin as you noticed when you reached him. “I’m pretty sure we did not move buildings, and this is an abandoned factory. We’ll know what to look for when we get out of here”

You listened to him as you worked on a way to get him out. He spoke in a whisper, and you knew he was planning a few steps ahead. As much as you were good to complete those trials, you knew you all wanted to trace back the bastard and make them pay for it.

“The mechanism is old, probably built out of a bear trap” You hummed as you walked around him. “Definitely pressure triggered”

“Do you know how to disarm it?”

You grinned. “That’s the good news, Dickie” You said as you paused beside him. “Remember when Damian was in the golden age of his wildlife conservation phase?”

“Yeah, he dragged us all to this seminar in the woods--” He paused, his eyes going wide. “Where they had us disarm wolf traps”

You clicked your tongue. "Wolf traps and bear traps have many things in common” You breathed out as you began carefully threading your fingers around the mechanism. “One thing is that they’re quite simple to disarm when you know what you’re doing”

You reached for the specific wheel that kept the tension in the device and gently began to unscrew it. If you were wrong, not only would Dick die horribly, but you would surely lose your hands as well. That was how sure you were that you were right, and soon enough, the pikes dropped and the collar unlocked. Certainly, the Deer didn’t count on your family being a bunch of weirdos that got training in disarming obsolete traps.

“Tiny Wing you are a genius” He grinned wide.

“So you’ll stop making fun of me for being the only one beside Dami who paid attention to that old fool?” You said as you began working on his right hand trap, then his left.

“I’ll think about it”

“Hey, I’m glad Dickhead’s okay,” Jason said, making you turn around. He was more than halfway down, which meant you were on the clock. “But I’m still hanging there, no pun intended, so it’d be cool if you got me down. Anytime soon would be great”

You jogged to his position and took a second to observe this trap at its turn. However, Dick thought faster.

"I gotta get up there and try to block the chain from going down" He said, looking down at you then back up. His glance traced a potential climbing plan with the pipes and structure of the room, spotting where he could get grip and or traction. Then, he nodded to himself and took a few steps back. "I'll need a boost though"

"Where do I aim?" You asked as you bent your knees and linked your hands together in a strong step.

"Right wall, just continue my motion"

"Whenever you're ready"

He took a deep breath and began running towards you. Like the gymnast he was, he gracefully leaped right into your hands, and with all of your body, you gave even more speed and height to his already strong motion. In a blink, he was up the wall and climbing on the pipes. He soon reached the chain, padding to the automatic crank that was slowly but surely lowering Jason in a metal grinder.

“Hey, um” He called from up there. “This thing is not gonna stop”

“Then. Make. It” Jason coughed.

“Well, I might have an idea” Dick flinched. “But you’re not gonna like it”

“Just fucking do it before I’m cat food”

“Gotta do the flying freight train tackle” He finally said.

“Oh god, this is gonna leave a mark” You mumbled with a sigh as you climbed on the wall to get to slightly higher grounds, where you were on par with the grinder. You’d need to be there for the manoeuvre to work. Jason was glaring at you upside down, knowing damn well if you missed your shot you’d both be hamburger. “You’ll have to hold the crank back, because he additional weight will drag us down”

“Already on it” He replied. “Alright, on your mark”

You crouched, calculating the distance you’d need to jump in order to get to Jason. You took a deep breath and set your sight on the target, who was almost reaching the spinning death cylinders. “Here goes nothing"

You took off running and leaped over the grinder, head tucked down and shoulders angled towards Jason’s body. As soon as you collided with him, you wrapped your arms around him and swung your legs with the momentum. You heard Dick yell from the effort as you peaked around Jason to spot your landing point. You hooked your toes on the border, pulling your muscles hard to bring you back on your balance. Once both of your feet were solid on the platform, you pulled Jason with you and laid him on the ground beside you.

“I’m sending you the chain” Dick panted, obviously relieved as Jason groaned beside you. He was probably feeling dizzy from being upside down so long.

“Alright, I’m holding it” You nodded, and when he kicked the chain off of the crank, you pulled it toward you so it wouldn’t drag Jason back into the grinder.

Dick climbed down his high ground and landed beside you watching Jason on the ground. “How do we get him out?”

You took a second, your breathing still uneven. “Maybe there’s something about the pikes of your collar?”

“I’ll go check”

You nodded as he jumped down and went to his spot. You looked up at the TV, where the Deer was observing without moving. “Hey Dasher” You called in a breath out, leaning on your knees. “In the wise words of the Backstreet boys, this is how we do”

You flipped it off as Dick jumped back on the platform, handing you a pick. You managed to undo the lock on the chains and free Jason, who jumped as far away from the grinder as possible. You then climbed down the platform to get back on the floor, glancing expectantly at the TV.

“Now what?” Dick said.

“You’re giving us more trouble than I anticipated” It spoke up. “We’ll see if your luck runs out on the next, and last, trial. Enjoy your short rest, for it will be the last”

“Wow, not ominous at all” You mumbled as the TV went dark.

“He’s gonna make us pass out again” Dick said. “How about we make it even more troublesome for them?”

“Earphones cord formation?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Earphone cord formation” Dick replied with a smirk.

You all looked at each other and nodded. Dick laid down first on his back, followed by Jason then finally you. You tangled yourselves worse than a game of twister during a frat party, driven by spite and desire to give whoever would come and move you a good back ache. At one point you were contorted rather painfully with probably more than half of Jason’s weight holding you down, but you didn’t give a single shit as the anesthetic gas began softening your muscles up.

You blacked out with petty satisfaction written all over your face.

---

“She always does this”

“Give her a break, Little wing”

“I’m just sayin’. If it was a life or death situation…”

“A life or-- What is this to you?”

“A joke, that’s what it is. And it’s not even funny”

You hissed as you woke up for your grogginess and made a face to shake off the numbness in your cheeks. This constant drugging was starting to give you a headache for real. “Can you two shut the fuck up for a second?”

“When you wake up on time” Jason snorted. He was about fifteen feet away in front of you on the other end of a beam, constrained on the side and back by some metallic cage. And judging by the dark walls on each side of you, you deducted you were in the same position. Under you was a yellow-ish liquid boiling, and you suspected it wasn’t colored water by the sharp smell emanating from it.

“Sorry kid” Dick called from a platform up high. He had just enough space to stand and crouch, but he was just sitting on it, his legs dangling without a care in the world. “But we were impatient for you to leave the dream world and join us here”

“How the fuck did you get up there?” You frowned.

“Who knows” He shrugged. “I’m just glad I’m not you right now”

“Are you ready for your final test?”

You all looked up to the mounted screen on the other end of the room, where the deer was broadcasted in large.

“You trying to turn us into the fucking joker or what?” Jason snapped, pointing to the liquid. “I swear, if you take off this stupid mask and I’m greeted by a cheap ass clown, you won't know what’s coming for you”

“I-- No-- No!” It yelled. “I’m not the joker!”

“Jeez, touchy much”

“I mean, I can understand” You replied. “I wouldn’t want to be mistaken for the joker either. Can you imagine?”

He paused, then nodded. “Point taken”

“Hey Vixen?” Dick yelled. “On a scale of one to ten, how much are you regretting your life choices right now?”

“It is very tempting to drop you all in the acid bassin right now” It spoke. So, acid it was. “But we will proceed to the last trial nevertheless. Welcome to the circus, Wayne siblings”

Then as if on cue, a trapeze dropped in front of Dick. Not long after, the back of yours and Jason’s box began slowly pushing you forward on the beam. Not a beam, you noticed when your foot touched it.

A fucking seesaw.

“Hey Comet, you might not have noticed, but Jay and I are not the same weight” You spoke up after a worried eye contact with your brother. Both of you had gripped the edge of the box, bracing yourself for the upcoming back push from the wall. “He’s gonna drop the second he steps on it”

“Worry not, it’s made to balance the difference” It seemed smug now. “If you can step on it at the exact same time, that is”

You met Jason’s eyes again, nodding. You gave yourself a countdown, feeling the wall push you further. On three, you both lept on your respective side of the beam on the larger end. It was big enough to stand, but the teetering made it hard to. You still managed to step on it in sync, keeping a precarious balance.

“Mr. Grayson is a trapeze artist, well versed in the art of circus” The deer spoke again. “But not you two--”

“Wrong” Jason shouted. “Everyday's a fucking circus in this family”

“Ha!” You snorted with laughter. “It’s a clown’s world and we’re all just living in it, babey”

The deer took a while to reply, and you could only imagine the expression under the mask. “Mr. Grayson, I suggest you make your choice fast, until one of your siblings trips and makes them both fall”

The screen went black.

“I fucking hate that guy” Jason grunted. “At the very least if they were original we could give them some credit, but this is just fucking awful, and lazy”

“Yeah, we’ll think about killing him later” You nodded, looking up from the beam to him. “But for now I think we need to get to the middle without falling, so Dick can pick us up”

“I think it’s a great idea” Dick said, holding his thumb up. “You do that. I’ll be ready with my trapeze”

“Okay, we need to take our steps at the same time, like when we stepped on the seesaw the first time” Jason said, a calculating look in his eyes. “If possible, we’ll need to take equal strides on each side”

“Great, because maths was definitely missing from this shitshow” You sighed. “How long are we aiming for?”

“I know I’m not the type to suggest playing it safe,” Jason began, evaluating the situation. “But I think we should go slow and steady. 12 inches?”

“That’s what she said” Dick snorted while you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, let’s do this” You nodded. “Ready?”

He did the countdown, and you visualized your distance the best you could. On his mark, you took the step sideways, wobbling on your legs when the seesaw teetered a bit too much for your liking. “Oh god, this is like a bad Wipeout episode”

“You okay Tiny wing?”

“I’ll be once Dick yeets us away from this joker factory” You huffed, lifting back a rogue strand of hair on your forehead. “Another step”

He said the countdown and you took another step, which you managed better this time. You repeated the process until you were shoulder to shoulder, relieved that the beam was more static now.

“I think you should get on my shoulders--”

“Are you crazy?” You cut him off. “We’ll never manage to stack up without falling, and I’m not sure I have the upper body strength to lift the both of us holding on Dick”

“Alright, what do you suggest then?” He raised an eyebrow, slightly pressed. “We’re on a bit of a deadline here, I wouldn’t trust this beam will hold forever”

“You’re tall enough, you can jump and grab him” You began. “On my end, I’ll koala-grab you. You two should be strong enough to support each other plus me, unless you lied on your bench press records, in which case, you should tell me now”

“We didn’t lie,” He hurried to say. “We can definitely carry you”

“Yeah, we can!” Dick scoffed as he reached for the trapeze. “Just wait and see”

“I’m dying to” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“So I’ll go back and forth a few times to gain momentum” He said, returning to the matter at hand. “Then I’ll flip upside down and pick you up. There’s a platform on the other side, so it’s your job to grab it, Tiny wing”

“Got it”

“We have one chance at this” Jason said. “So nobody screws up or I’ll kill you”

“Look, if you had one shot, or one opportunity to seize everything you ever wanted” You said, taking a breath.

“Would you capture it, or just let it slip?” Dick completed without hesitation.

“There are no words in the english language to express how much I hate you both”

“We know, and we love you too” Dick grinned as he stood up and threw himself off the platform, grabbing the trapeze on the way. Like he said he would, he gained momentum by swinging himself back and forth, then flipped himself and let his hand down for Jason to grab. “Now would be a good time”

Jason didn’t need to be told twice, jumping and grabbing Dick’s arms as he passed above his head. You felt the balance tilt under you, but you held onto his waist before you could fall with the beam. You tried to grab onto the platform, but your grip slipped under the weight you had to hold back against the pull back from the swing.

“Fuck!” You yelled as you were thrown into another swing.

“Can we make it next swing?” Jason asked, his voice strained with the effort.

“Barely!” Dick was even worse, his face red from holding you both.

“Shit fuck” You swore as the plateform came into view again. You let out a strangled scream as you stretched yourself to grab the ledge and forced yourself to hold on through the recoil from the movement down. You crawled up the platform, pulling both Jason and Dick behind you. Your forearms and elbows scraped against the wood, giving you about a thousand splinters, but you kept going on, not loosening your legs’ grip on Jason either. Finally, you got far enough to get Jason on there with you, which at his turn, helped Dick up.

You panted, trying to ignore the burning of probably pulled muscles at the effort. You lifted a knee up and put your arms behind your head to open your lungs as much as possible. “Aight” You said in between two breaths. “We’re so going to kill that guy”

“Imma catch my breath first” Jason held a finger up. “Then whoever’s hiding under that mask is gonna catch these hands”

“I’ve been studying the building’s layout” Dick said as he properly stood up. “It’s our typical Gotham warehouse, which means there should be a control room somewhere. We’ve been moving rooms, and we were supposed to die in this one. So logically, we would be the closest to the exit now. If we follow the vent conducts, we would technically end up there”

“Makes sense” You nodded, then smirked. “It’s open season, boys”

With that, you began climbing down the platform, away from the acid bassin. Clearly, whoever had you there didn’t intend for you to walk out of it, because the locks could barely qualify as such. Just one kick from Jason tore the door from its hinges, giving out on some sort of hallway. Silently, Dick gestured for you to split, you to the right, Jason to the left and him forward. You searched every room, making sure they were empty before getting to the next one.

You turned a corner when you heard noise, and in the middle of the hallway, someone wearing a deer mask stumbled out of a room. You smirked at them when they turned toward you, making them backtrack and turn around to run away. However, they stopped dead in their tracks when Jason appeared on the other end, cracking his knuckles. The Deer looked frantically for an exit door that didn’t involve going through either of you, and that’s when you heard it.

A chilling laugh bouncing onto the walls, its provenance unclear.

Your smirk morphed into a grin, knowing they were surrounded. You and Jason blocked the exits, and Dick was god knows where, ready to jump in literally whenever.

“Oh pal” Jason let out a low, dangerous chuckle as he advanced. “You have no idea what you got yourself into”

“Oh well, they’re about to find out, aren’t they?” You taunted, closing in on him. Like an unspoken command, you both attacked and restrained each one of their arms, pulling them on the ground and knocking the mask off to reveal a terrified man, or more like a coward without the safety of anonymity. So it was a he.

“Who are you?” He spoke, and according to your own experience, probably about to shit himself too.

“Who are we, really?” Dick asked, then dropped from the ceiling, startling the man. “You haven’t figured it out yet? I was sure you would have by now”

“I mean, we were pretty obvious” You agreed. “Wait, maybe this will help”

You covered both of your eyes to mimic a domino mask. The guy remained silent.

“Still nothing?” Dick frowned. “You really don’t know, do you?”

He shook his head.

“To be fair,” Jason began. “Last time we met all three of us with our masks, we fought so hard it cost Bruce like, 1.5 mil in damage. He was pissed”

“I’ll admit, I wouldn’t be our first choice after all that team work” You nodded.

“W-Wait, you’re--” The guy gulped. “You’re vigilantes?”

“Ding ding ding” Dick grinned.

“And you picked the crazy ones” You added through the corner of your mouth. Dick and Jason glared at you. “What? I’m just stating the facts. Had he picked Timmy or like, someone with morals--Wait. No. Tim would have cracked your skull like an egg by now. Oh god, none of us are sane”

“You’re just finding this out now?” Jason raised an eyebrow.

“Ey, I had my doubts” You shrugged. “Anyway. With Nightwing, Red Hood and Nightshade under the same roof, you plan was bound to go to shit”

“Oh god I-- I didn’t know” Now he began to cry. “I’m sorry, please I’m sorry”

“No god can help you now” Jason said casually as he grabbed the back of the man’s neck tightly. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

“What’s it gonna be?” He almost whined under the pain, confused by Jason’s words.

“I think my brother is giving you the choice of your death” Dick clarified. You knew he wasn’t necessarily keen on killing, but he was obviously not opposed for this one time. Especially since Jason or you for that matter would gladly step up to the role of the executioner. Besides, anyone who threatened him or his family in such a twisted way deserved that much of a fate for themselves.

“Acid perhaps?” You suggested.

“Hell no” Jason scoffed. “This would be begging for some sort of fucked up mutation. Again, I’m not taking the chance to create a Joker 2.0 or something just as bad. No way”

“Well, we destroyed the wheel, the cube and the bear traps…” Dick trailed off. “Which leaves…”

“The meat grinder” You and Jason said at the same time, your eyes meeting. You nodded in approval and smirked.

“Come on Jigsaw Junior, let’s take a stroll” Jason said, pulling the man up as he began thrashing and screaming for mercy.

“It’s always when the end is there that they start begging” You mused as you helped Jason drag the man. “They all talk a big game, but they can never back it up. Like man, if you’re ready to kill people, you gotta assume the consequences”

“He could at least go out with some dignity” Dick nodded as he walked ahead, peeking his head in random doors to see if this was the correct one to reach the meat grinder. “This is just pathetic”

“He’s a coward” Jason snorted, carelessly kicking the man behind the knees, then yanking him back up on his feet. Then, he paused dead in his tracks and looked down. “Did you just fucking pee your pants?”

You looked down too, only to see the rapidly growing dark stain on the crotch of his pants. You barked a laugh. “Ew. What are you, five?”

“Now this is straight up embarrassing” Dick grimaced as he kept looking for the right way. “I know ordinary citizens who've got more balls than you, and they didn’t pretend to be criminal masterminds-- Ah, there it is!”

He pushed open a door, giving onto a small space blocked off by crates. You could see the meat grinder from in between the cracks, and you wondered how in the world you hadn’t seen through that poorly built façade the first time you were in there. You met Jason’s glance, and with a half shrug of agreement, you chucked the man through the wall of crates like he was a potato sack. You watched as he fell awkwardly on hard corners, and how he got buried under half decayed wood and rusty nails poking out of it. By the way he wailed in agony, you assumed the fall was painful.

“Is anyone feeling weird doing this now?” Dick asked as he walked further into the room, watching you and Jason pick the man back up again and dragging him to the meat grinder. “I don’t know, it’s like I’m disrespecting Nightwing or something”

“Dick” You deadpanned. “He’s you”

“I know!” He threw his hands up as you reached the grinder. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? It’s not as authentic”

“He’s right” Jason nodded, looking up then down again to the man, probably evaluating how you were gonna get him up there. “My helmet’s like, 50 percent of the character. Without it I’m just a guy. A fantastic, sexy, smart, incredible guy, but still a guy”

“See, he gets it” Dick nodded in agreement as you rolled your eyes.

“You two are impossible” You shook your head. “That’s why Tim’s my favourite brother”

They both gasped in sync.

“You take that back” Dick said, offended.

“Yeah, it’s gotta be one of us” Jason frowned as he pointed between him and Dick, then between the three of you. “We’re the OGs. The pre-my-death siblings. That’s gotta count for something right?”

“Here we go again” Dick sighed.

“You couldn’t go through the whole thing without mentioning your death, could you?” You raised a critical eyebrow.

“Dude, I died!”

“Y-you act-ually died?” The man finally stuttered through his tears.

“Shut up!”

He recoiled at the sound of your three voices thundering down on him at the same time. Jason delivered a slap behind his head, then returned his attention to the argument.

“So who is it?” Dick pressed.

“Uh?”

“Your actual favourite brother!” Jason clarified.

“I told you, pinheads!” You made a face at them. “Tim doesn’t drop buildings on me, unlike some of my siblings”

“That was one time!” He defended. “And you turned out to be okay in the end!”

“I still have the scars” You replied defiantly, then turned to Dick. “And don’t you start either. I can’t feel the tips of my fingers ever since you zapped my hand with your escrima sticks. I’m pretty sure I have nerve damage”

“Yeah, because you almost carved my appendix out with your stupid curved blades” He huffed. “What goes around comes around”

“P-please just kill me now”

“You brought us all here under one roof, now you get to listen to our family issues extensively” Jason tsked at the man. “Cheer up, not many people are privy to the great backstory of us almost destroying half of Gotham”

“What actually did spark that fight?” Dick furrowed his eyebrows. “I can’t remember”

“Remember the case with Eli and Camila Wright?” You replied and he tilted his head to the side. “The whole stealing babies to sell to rich infertile parents on the black market thing. Jay thought Camila was the one pulling that shit. But I knew Eli was definitely the culprit. His record was too clean and convenient for him not to be guilty. We argued on it hard until you came in and metaphorically put oil on the fire”

“Yeah” Jason scoffed. “You swooped in and put them both in jail”

“Well it turned out they were both involved, if I remember correctly” Dick pointed out.

“They were, but that’s not the point!” You yelled back, throwing your hands up. “You came all the way from Blüdhaven on our turf to show off, then tried to put us in B’s batjail to stop us from going nuclear, which ironically enough, was what actually made us go nuclear”

“I’ll admit in hindsight it wasn’t the best idea” He scratched the back of his neck. “But we kinda were assholes though”

“Maybe” You shrugged. “At least we only damaged rich people’s stuff, which we all know doesn’t count as immoral or reprehensible”

“True” Jason nodded. “That’s actually the very reasoning behind Bruce bending over backward not to ever have us all home at the same time”

Dick jumped on the platform and grabbed the chain, looking between it and the grinder that was now turned off. “Even Alfred thinks it’s a good idea to be careful, most of the time anyway. By the way, does anyone know how to turn this grinder on?”

“Wait, what? I didn’t know about that” You frowned. “Why am I the only one not knowing about that?”

“Because even if Bruce was mad at all of us you’re still his favourite, next question” Jason said, then looked down to the Deer, who was now at the muttering prayers stage. “Which is, how do we turn your grinder on?”

“I--”

“Wait, hold on” You interrupted him. “I’m not the favourite”

“Yes you are”

Your eyes widened at their synchronized disinterested reply. “Wow”

“Let’s get back on topic, yeah? The meat grinder. On switch. Now” Jason said as he kicked the man over.

“Destroyed” He mumbled, his eyes twitching. “It’s destroyed”

“Oh for fuck sake”

“Seriously?” Dick whined as he jumped back on the ground. “You didn’t want to tell us that before we went all out to bring you here?”

“Well, that makes it less fun” You frowned, then looked down at the chain and back at Jason. “Do you want to choke him with that and dissolve his body in acid then? He’s already gonna be dead so it should be fine, right?”

“I guess we don’t have a choice,” Jason grumbled as he grabbed the chain. “He’ll have lived as a boring bitch and died as a boring bitch. Gotta respect the consistency if nothing else”

He wrapped the sturdy metal around the man’s neck and pulled.

---

“So. This is how basic criminals feel like when they dispose of a body”

Dick and Jason nodded as they watched the body sink at the bottom of the acid pool, the liquid sizzling as it already began digesting the organic component. The smell was probably the worst of it, but it wasn’t anything you hadn’t already gone through before. You believed Pyg’s overall body odour had been worse.

Jason looked up first. “Well. That was some bonding time. Let’s never do this again”

Dick followed. “The bonding part or the killing part?”

“Hopefully neither, for everyone’s sake” You glanced at both of them. “But hey, maybe next time we all meet, it won’t be as chaotic. Maybe nobody will die”

“Wishful thinking, Tiny wing” Jason pursed his lips, but smiled nonetheless.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m famished” Dick said as he stretched up. “Do you wanna go grab something to eat? I’m thinking tacos”

You all looked at each other.

“We can do tacos without blowing up the place…” You trailed off tentatively. “Right?”

“Yeah” Jason agreed, then scoffed. “We can totally do that”

“Right!” Dick grinned. “Let’s go!”

[anhed-nia]

BLOGTOBER 10/25/2022: SCREAM FOR HELP

This is a fucking doozy.

Tom Holland wrote this picture about a girl in trouble that, in some ways, will be familiar to his fans: Like Andy in CHILD'S PLAY and Charlie in FRIGHT NIGHT, Christie (Rachael Kelly) uncovers a horrible secret right in her own neighborhood, but none of the adults will believe her. Christie's handsome, charismatic stepfather Paul (David Allen Brooks) is plotting to murder her and her wealthy mother Karen (Marie Masters); all Christie has to do is prove it, which is easier said than done. In the process of trying, she uncovers a multilayered conspiracy, forcing her and her mother to team up against a gang of dangerous psychopaths.

My husband goes, "She's on the diving team."

So, that's all well and good. Tom Holland sets up what feels like a pretty solid, if overly involved teen thriller befitting the Lifetime Network…but the thing is, SCREAM FOR HELP is directed by Michael Winner, of DEATH WISH 1-3 fame. Which means that, in execution, this is a sordid, sadistic exploitation movie that crosses several lines in short order. When Christie realizes that Paul has been setting up deadly accidents meant for her mother, she begins to spy on him, and discovers that he is having a hot and heavy affair with a temptress named Brenda (Lolita Lesheim). Christie's mother won't believe her, and neither do her best friends, Janey (Sandra Clark) and her boyfriend Josh (Corey Parker). However, Josh eventually gets on board after Janey is gruesomely killed by a hit and run driver literally seconds after telling Christie that Josh knocked her up, and it feels like only seconds after that that Christie gives Josh her virginity in a disturbingly porny scene that makes you ask how old the actors are and if their parents knew they were making this movie. Raunchy sex is frequently interspersed with women getting smacked around violently, and you start to get a vivid sense of why Michael Winner has such a reputation for being an asshole. Eventually the whole thing devolves into a brutal home invasion scenario, with a gonzo ending that I thought had to be a dream, but which was not.

This is Rocco Sisto's first movie, whatever that means to ya.

I've focused on the discrepancy between Tom Holland's and Michael Winner's artistic sensibilities, but there is a third creator here who is just as responsible for making SCREAM FOR HELP into the bizarre monstrosity that it is: John Paul Jones, the bassist for Led Zeppelin. Jones provided the score for this movie, and while it is so over the top that it approaches the level of parody, it perfectly matches the film's sleazy, delirious tone. You kind of have to hear it to believe it, a combination of swingin' London swagger and scummy rock menace that is patently absurd, which is exactly what SCREAM FOR HELP deserves.

Obviously I don't have anything deep to say about this movie, and if I did, it might mean that I'm insane. It is definitely something to see, though, and it is recommended viewing for anyone who enjoys astonishment and confusion.

[spideymarvelws]

Ready Or Not

 Prince!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Main Masterlist / Add Yourself To My Taglists

A/n : I like royal aus leave me alone

Summary : With the plan in action to finally take down the king, you and Tom have a final talk before the battle for freedom, not before he has a vivid nightmare leaving him questioning if everything is really worth it to save his people.

Warnings : cursing, descriptions of blood, death (animals and people), violence,  floof and angst

Word Count : 4.2k

...

“Again,”

“But father-”

“I said again.”

Tom took a deep breath, rolling his shoulder muscle before loading his bow with an arrow, raising it up and drawing it back. He didn't want to release it, he already killed so many harmless animals that his father just left to rot, not even taking it in to use as food for the kingdom. 

Sure, the rest of the animals of the forest would have a field day with the meat, but what was the point when they had the power to do it themselves? Maybe it was just the sick smile on his father’s face when he walked up to the dead corpse, kicking its limp body in victory. He could still feel the bile in his stomach threatening to rise when every arrow hit, killing the helpless animals.

“Shoot it Thomas,” His father whispered faintly in his ears, a harsh hand falling on his shoulder, “Shoot it in the heart,”

Tom held his breath, aiming the arrow at the animal before finally releasing, flinching at the sound of arrowhead puncturing the flesh. He looked down at the ground in shame, not wanting to see the dead animal bleeding out on the floor.

“Good job,” his father said, patting his shoulder, “She’s going to enjoy the pain,”

Tom grew confused at his fathers words, usually he wouldn't question his outlandish comments but the exhaustion creeping up his back took away the filter keeping his thoughts to himself, “I don’t know about that father,” he scoffed, ready to move on the next victim if that meant getting back to the castle early.

“Shame really, she was a beautiful one,” he continued, ignoring his son’s words, “But that’s what you get when you come into the wrong territory,”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Pretty sure we’re the ones who invaded them,”

“Still, I'm still powerful enough to let you do the work for me,” he cackled, “Powerful enough to make you kill your own friend or was she more than that?” he said slowly, his voice becoming dangerously low,“Y/h/c hair, y/e/c eyes and a spirit that lead to her demise,” his voice started to echo, “By your own hand,”

Tom’s eyes shot open, he looked back at his father before looking at the clearing where he shot the deer. Instead of the bleeding out animal he expected, he saw you, on your knees with an arrow sticking straight out of your chest.

“No,” he uttered, dropping his weapon and running to you, sliding to his knees as your body fell, limp in his arms. 

“No, no, no,” he repeated, holding you close to his chest. The arrow melted away, leaving a hole in the middle of your body.

“If only you didn’t bring her into this,” his fathers voice continued to boom in the back of his mind as he shakily put his hand on your cheek, drips of water falling from his eyes and on to your skin, “If only you were not foolish enough to defy me!”

Tom tried his best to block out his father's voice, which was much easier than he expected when he looked down at your face. Blood seeping out of your nose with your eyes wide and blown without movement and your skin becoming dull and cold to the touch. He didn't care that the red liquid stained his clothes or his father’s hurtful words, all he cared about in that moment was you.

He clenched his eyelids together, “This isn't real, this isn't real,” he said to himself, rocking your body back and forth in his arms as he held you impossibly closer, “This- this isn't real,”

“Is...it?” you croaked, coughing up a wad of blood from your mouth, “Is- Is this not reality?”

“It can’t be,” he cried softly, shakily wiping the blood dripping down from your nose, “I won’t allow it,”

“B-but you d-did,” you began coughing again, “I’m dead,” your voice trailed off, “I’m dead because of-” you paused, your lip quivering, “because of you,”

Your head drifted to the side, your eyes becoming empty with no movement. Tom couldn't breath, his mind too busy trying to process your still body in his arms, your skin blotched with blood and the words that just spilled from your mouth. He sat in silence, completely in shock as the warm touch from your skin was replaced with the coldness of the snow falling from the sky.

“Don’t worry Tommy,” his father sneered, a hand falling on his shoulder just like moments ago, “She won’t be going alone,” 

Tom raised his head, suddenly he wasn't in a dense forest but a large plain, bodies splayed all along the dry grass. They continued on for as long as he could see, disappearing into the distance. The ones closest to him he recognized, close colleagues and friends part of the rebellion, the same people he convinced years ago to join his cause having the same fate as you. When he looked back at your face, it was replaced with a dirty skull, the rest of your body just a pile of bones.

He pushed away the skeleton, crawling backwards when his father began walking over the corpses, kicking them aside like pebbles on a sidewalk.

“I thought I taught you well, I thought you were ready to be the future king,” His father made large steps towards him, his stance looming over him, growing and growing with each one. His boots hitting the floor shook the ground beneath him, keeping him stuck to the floor and unable to stand. 

Soon his back hit the trunk of a tree, stopping him in his tracks as his father came closer and closer.

“All these men, they could've been safe, alive with their families,” he chuckled, “But now there dead, dead because of you,”

Suddenly his father grew, his gold tunic stretching, tearing off his chest as his skin morphed into a black mush. His eyes turned sharp and red, glowing as the wind began to blow harshly, taking away some of the black liquid, only for it to grow back, patching the menacing monster his father turned into.

But before it could swallow him whole, he shot up in his bed drowning in sweat.

His hand slapped to his chest as he steadied his breathing, the other supporting himself on his makeshift mattress of leaves and scraps of cloth. He quickly took off his shirt, throwing it off to the side as he bursted out of the tent, stumbling to the ocean. 

As he reached the sand, he fell to his knees, his hands reaching for the water and splashing it on his face in a desperate attempt to rid his eyes of what he just saw, what he just lived through. But washing his face alone wasn't enough, your blood didn't just hit his face but his body, his clothes. He stood up shakily, walking slowly into the cold water.

As cold as your skin when you died in his arms.

He shivered at the thought, continuing to submerge himself in the ocean, feeling more and more at peace with each step. He walked until he was fully under, his body moving with the waves of the water, cleansing him from the night.

But his father’s sick smile haunted him, even in the tranquility.

It was the same smile he’d seen since he was little. He remembered his first memory of it, when he was only four standing out on the balcony as he watched him raise the taxes in the kingdom after the beheading of a guard who was conspiring against him.

His young brain didn’t comprehend what happened that day, but the days to come definitely showed the effects his father had on the people. He never traveled to the village often, but when he did he always managed to keep his head down, shame and guilt filling his mind at the clothes and jewels weighed down in his body when everyone else wore musty brown potato sacks.

The differences only became worse when he grew older, resenting his father more and more as he noticed the gap between him and his people, the rich and poor. He only ever kept the men who were useful to him, pushing everyone else aside as casualties of his power.

The last straw was when he was fourteen, when his father brutally murdered a man right in front of his family for not lowering the price of his wine. He ran into the woods that night, looking for an escape. But the shadows of the trees and rustle of the small animals made him even more scared and lost.

But that was when he found you running through the trees, giggling with a bunny in your arms. You spotted him cowering in the bush, offering your hand and your new pet as comfort. You were an orphan, a free spirit roaming the woods with the animals as your only friends. Later on he learned that you had a mentor who taught you your skills in swordsmanship only to lose a fight protecting you against his father’s guards.

You resented him at first upon seeing the emblem of the kingdom sewn into his clothes, but he gained your trust by ripping off the patch and stomping on it with his boots, offering you his companionship.

From there you two were inseparable, he snuck out to meet you almost every night either to talk, to train or to just stroll around, enjoying each other's presence. Sure, he had multiple friends back in the castle, he had his brothers who also joined him for the rebellion, but the bond he made with you was different to anything he’s ever had before.

You were the first person he went to when he started to conspire against his father. You were the person who helped him through it, who taught him things he never knew. You were his first everything, his first fight, his first loss, his first win, his first kiss and his first love. 

He couldn’t lose you, anybody but you. 

And seeing you, the blood, the look, the words spilling from your mouth. He couldn't help but think it wouldn't be just a dream, that his father would get to him, would change him back to the life of a royal and make him betray the only people he was able to call home.

He wasn’t ready to face his father, no matter how many times he told himself that he was just a person, in his eyes he was the black void he saw in his dreams. A monster that couldn't be defeated.

Before he could think further, his breath caught up to him making him choke.

He gasped as his face broke the water, flailing around his arms to stay up float. He didn't know how long he had been underwater, but it gave him enough time to come up with three conclusions;

That this rebelion wasn't going to work.

The fear of his father never left.

And he was going to loose you because he was to idiotic to keep you out of his father’s wrath.

He decided to lay in the water until the sun rose and his skin became wrinkly.

...

“They’re going to set up soldiers all around the walls, our objective is to break in without being detected,” your voice boomed through the cave, concentrating on the map drawn into the brown sand, “We have people on the inside prepared to give us armor and all the materials we need,” you looked up to the people around you, “I need everyone else on the outside, even with our intel, we don’t know what the king might have up his sleeve,”

Tom watched from the corner as everyone nodded their heads. He could see almost every emotion passing through their minds, fear, confusion, regret, determination. But it was too late for them too back out now despite whatever they may be thinking, it was too late for anyone. The plans have already been set, years of preparation for tomorrow couldn't go to waste.

“Any questions?” You leaned back on the rock you sat on, looking around at the people surrounding you. Nobody dared to say anything, only looking around to there fellow pairs, silently communicating with each other, “Great,” you took the silence as a yes, “get some rest everyone,” You looked up to him with a tired smile, “You’re going to need it,”

Tom looked on as everyone dispersed, walking with one another to their respective tents and beds for the night. Usually he would stay behind with you near the fire until it went out, talking about whatever came to mind. But this time he couldn't find the heart to approach you, images of his dream flashing through his mind every time he caught a glimpse of your face illuminated by the flames.

Images of your bloody face, the harsh words seeping out of your mouth along with his father’s words jabing at his chest, making it hurt more and more with every passing second.

To the point where he couldn't handle standing in your presence much longer.

He walked out of the cave, not caring for the people he bumped into on the way out. He could feel the weight on his chest leave as soon as he caught a glimpse of the sun leaving from behind the ocean. 

Despite the pressing times, the location of your lookout was beautiful. A cliff located on the outskirts of the kingdom, near the waters where the docks were only a short trip away. Sure, it was risky to set up so close to the castle, but you insisted solely because of the view.

“Shouldn't you be sleeping with everyone else?” You said from behind him, your footsteps crunching the dry grass beneath it.

“I could say the same for you,” he replied, keeping his gaze on the sea, he knew that he couldn't face you yet, but he didn't have the heart to walk away from a conversation, “You out of all of us need it,”

“We all need it Tommy,” You sighed, waking up beside him with your arms crossed, “Tomorrow is-,”

“-a very important day, I know,” he nodded his head playfully, “You’ve said it to me hundreds of times today Y/n/n, I’m surprised you didn't include it in your little speech,”

“Did you not like it?” You teased, “I thought it was quite good,”

“I’ve heard it so many times i’ve become numb to it at this point so I can't really say,” he chuckled, dropping his head to the floor, “But for your ego, it was amazing,”

“Thank you,” you said smugly, “You would have done well to you know, instead of brooding in the corner,”

“Your the spokesman here, not me,” he grinned, “I’m the one who has to safe your ass when it goes poorly,”

“I’m sorry, was i not the one who had to teach you how to hold a fucking sword properly?”

“I’m good with a sword!”

“Against a hundred men?”

“Well-,” he cut himself off, thinking of the odds in the situation. He had skill, but he was no wear as agile with a sword as you were. That, and bows weren't made for close combat.

“Thought so,” you smirked when he kept silent, pulling out a blade from your belt and twirling it around in the moonlight. You jotted it in his direction, giggling as he flinched away from the weapon, “Seems all of my training has been for nothing,”

“I’m not scared of the blade, I’m scared of you there’s a difference,”

“Then I take that back, I’m doing my job just fine,” you smiled, putting away your weapon,“Look, I have the sword and you have the arrows,” you shrugged, nudging his side with your elbow, “We make the perfect team,”

“Yeah,” he sighed, looking off at the sea, “Perfect team,”

You bit your lip, looking off into the distance with him. Tom was never one to express his emotions often, he always kept up his reputation of being a stone cold leader. But in your eyes, he was as easy to read as a children's book. You knew when he was holding back, the stiffness in his posture, his subtle lean away from you. You knew that if you leaned in to take his hand in comfort, he would deny it. 

Even this morning, you noticed his hesitation to approach you with his usual hug, instead he gave you a half hearted smile before taking his horse for a ride in the nearby field. He didn't come back till sun set, waiting till the meeting to even be in the same room as you. You were surprised he didn't walk away when you approached him by the cliff, but you were grateful that he didn't.

“Everything alright?” you started, looking at him in hopes that he would make eye contact.

“You already know the answer to that Y/n,” he sighed, passing his hand over his face.

You nodded, pushing your hands into the pockets of your pants, “Well, are you going to tell me about it or just stand around stand around like a little gremlin,” you tried to make a joke but it fell flat.

Tom opened and closed his mouth, his face twisted from worry to anger to sadness. It was hard to keep up with only the side profile you saw. 

“I had a dream,” he finally mumbled, letting out a deep sigh, “Well, more like nightmare,”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I-” he ran his hand through his hair, “I don't know?” he paused, “I guess, I’m just having second thoughts about this, about all of this, ”

Your first instinct was to drill him about what he was thinking, that second guessing himself the night before you stormed the castle was stupid, irresponsible and a risk to the whole operation. But this wasn't some random person part of your people, this was Tom, your best friend, alliance and closest person you had. 

“What happened?” you whispered, wanting nothing more to take his hand and pull him in a hug, “Tommy-”

“It was about you,” he finally turned to face you, his eyes red, ready to burst into tears, “It was about you, and my father and everyone who walking into this fucking mass suicide,” 

You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“There were bodies Y/n, bodies of everyone and my dad he- he-,” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he took his face in your hands, rubbing the tears that began to spill from his eyes.

“I just don’t understand,” he shook his head, “Why can’t we just leave, build a new life away from everything,”

“We can’t leave everyone behind,” you said softly.

“They have a choice whether they want to stay or not in the kingdom! Why should we risk our lives for there's!”

“You and I both know that they don’t have a choice Tom, not when your father is in rule,”

He sighed, licking his chapped lips, “I know, I know,” he put his hands on top of yours, “I just wish there was another way,”

“Me too Tommy,” You pulled him into a hug, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck, “But the way that I think it, if everything happens the way it’s supposed to, we could finally have the freedom we deserve. We just need to hang in there, you need to hang in there, okay?”

“I will,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “I’m just-” his breath hitched, “I’m scared of my father Y/n, I’m scared of what he’s capable of,”

“But we’re capable of more,” you pulled back, whipping the excess tears from his eyes, “We’ve been planning this for years Tommy, for years we’ve stood on the sideline watching as he terrorized the people of his kingdom, the kingdom that is rightfully yours,” you smiled, “If anything, he should be more scared of you,”

Tom scoffed, “I fine that hard to believe,”

“Well it’s true,” his hands moved to your waist, squeezing gently as you continued, “You’re no longer that scared little boy from years ago Tom. You’ve grown so much in not only your skills but your leadership. All these people have stuck with you because they believe in you, you made them believe that a life of freedom is worth fighting for,”

“That wasn't all me-”

“Tom, you convinced me that our freedom was worth fighting for, you’re the reason I’m here,” you brought your forehead against his, “You’re a natural born leader Tommy, and I have no doubt in my mind that when you face your father all fear will go away and turn into the righteous leader your made to be,”

Tom looked at you with glistening eyes, his lips slightly parted as he took in your words, “Do you really think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered.

“Y/n, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything,” you smiled, “I just- I just wanted you to know that,” you chuckled awkwardly, releasing how close the both of you had gotten.

You moved to pull away but his hands on your hips kept you still, pulling you even closer against his chest, his breath hot against your face.

You’ve always had those feelings about Tom, the butterflies flying in your stomach every time you talked. Your words became short when he looked into your eyes with his deep brown orbs.

But you always pushed it aside, for the country, for your people and the fear that he wouldn't feel the same. 

“When- when this is all over,” he started quietly, “I’m not taking the crown Y/n, I can’t after everything we’ve been through, you know this,” he sighed, “I’m suppose to tell you this after the rebellion but, I found a cottage in the woods near the rivers, spent time cleaning it and i’m planning on living there for a while, at least after Harry takes my place on the throne,” he held his breath, “And I want you to come with me,”

You stood speechless at his suggestion. To be honest, you didn't know what you were doing after the rebellion was over. For most of your life you were so focussed on the outcomes of tomorrow that you never spent the time wondering what might happen after. 

But one thing you knew for sure was that you weren't leaving your people, were ever they resided, you would stay with them. And that included Tom.

You were shaken out of thought when he stepped back, taking your silence as a nice way of telling him no. Before you could say anything though, he started rambling.

“You don’t have to of course, I’m sure you probably have your own plans after everything but I just thought I’d let you know,” he scratched the back of his neck, laughing off his nervousness and the rejection.

“How close is the cottage to the kingdom?” you asked, taking his hand to keep him from backing away any further.

“On horseback, maybe an hour ride?” he said.

You smiled, looking down before looking back up at him. You pulled him back against your chest, throwing your arms around his shoulders, “That sounds reasonable,” you giggled at his shocked face, “As long as were close by, I don’t see the issue with it,”

Tom let out a breathy laugh, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you tightly. He lifted you up in the air, spinning you around as you both erupted in giggles. All thought of war and fighting left your minds when he settled you back down, keeping eye contact as he smiled wider than you’ve ever seen.

WIthout thinking, you pushed your lips against his, immediately regretting it when he froze. But before you could pull away, he relaxed, pulling you closer and molding his lips with yours. 

His lips were rougher than you imagined, dry against your skin but you could have cared less. Your fingers moved to tangle themselves in his dirty locks, smiling when he groaned into your mouth as you tugged on the strands, deepening the kiss. He passed his tongue on your bottom lip, asking for access which you granted, letting him explore your mouth for as long as he pleased. When he finally pulled away, he took your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling it gently.

“I’ve been waiting so long to do that,” he grinned, going back in to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Took you long enough,” you giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest as you hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go.

Tom only tightened his arms, keeping you as close as possible. He didn’t know what the future held, he didn’t know if you’d both survive the fight tomorrow. But the one thing he knew was that right then, in that moment, he had everything he needed right in his arms.

And maybe, just maybe, things would be alright.

“We’re going to get through this Tom,” you mumbled.

“We are,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of your head, “We will, all of us will,”

...

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[bailey-reaper]

May I request barok having a nightmare and his s/o comforting him?

Trapped in Ephialtes...

Notes: S/O is gender neutral (using they/them for pronouns) and is referred to by Barok using petnames.

Content Warnings: violence mention (blood / murder), angst

Barok found himself plagued by nightmares ever since Klint had died.

Sometimes the dreams started innocently enough: he might be stood in a serene forest or on the edge of a distant beach, other times he might recall a pleasant memory from his childhood – however, without fail things would turn sour in the most uncanny and unsettling ways.

Like the time he dreamed of a perfectly ordinary dinner, when his parents were still alive, and his brother had asked him to pass the salt –– but when he turned to his brother, he had a brutal stab wound in his chest, through the heart, while blood soaked the pristine white of his shirt like a cruel ink stain.

Or the time he went hunting with his brother, only to be suddenly accosted from behind then find himself face-to-face with the Professor's iron masked face when he turned around to confront his attacker...

The dreams always caused him to wake violently, sweat dripping down his back and clinging to his face as he hyperventilated in the darkness. He'd been told by his physician that the dreams were simply a 'manifestation of his grief' and that with time they would calm down.

Yet, after 10 years, they were no less frequent and no less vivid. The one thing that had helped, he found, was the presence of his beloved. Their warmth by his side seemed to bring a calm to his mind that he'd been sorely lacking for too long. His dreams were more infrequent, but they hadn't left him all together.

That night his dreams were particularly haunting: they'd just finished a visit to Madame Tusspells and were leaving, when he realised everything around them was wrong. The street was nothing like Marylebone, where the museum was in fact based. It looked more like a dingy country road, leading down a fog soaked dirt path.

As they walked, he felt increasingly uneasy. The light from the moon and the sparse street lamps did little to reassure him. Then, the road came to an abrupt end at a graveyard. Out of the corner of his eye he saw its name:

[Lowgate Cemetery]

"No..." he uttered, only to look to his side and see that his beloved was no longer there; they'd gone ahead, into the cemetery, "Wait... don't go!" his voice refused to work, it came out in little more than a whimper. So, he pressed ahead after them, the last thing he wanted was for something to happen to the one who had brought some semblance of light back into his life.

Finally he caught up to them, "We have to leave," he whispered urgently, "Now."

Suddenly, he felt a grabbing sensation around his ankle and as he looked down with wide eyes he could see the Professor emerging from his grave--

Barok shot up in bed in a state of hysteria. It felt like the world was spinning; his mind was reeling. His thoughts were consumed by the Professor and the risk that the monster had come to take the only good thing in his life. It was more than he could bear. Not again. The thought of losing the light he'd only just managed to find was too crushing to even contemplate.

"Hey... are you okay?"

He heard their voice and reached for them, gathering his beloved in his arms and holding them close.

"W-Woah...!" their voice was muffled against his chest, "Barok.... Barok it's okay, it's okay, you just had a dream. That's all. It was a dreaming," they could hear his heart thundering in his chest and feel the slight tremble that ran through his body.

". . . ." for a long few moments he just held them close, nose buried in their hair so that he could inhale their scent and ground himself. This was real, not the Professor and not that dream. They were real and they were here, with him, "Sorry..." he whispered.

"You don't need to apologise," they said, while sitting up once he'd released his vice-like hold, "It's alright, Barok," he nodded as they placed their hand over his and stroked gently, "I'm here with you."

"Yes..." he captured that precious hand and held it tight, as though it were a lifeline, "Thank you..."

[cupcakesnomnomnom123]

Durarara!! x The Outsider

Crossover

*note* AHHH this cross over is my new thing I swear lol. I don’t usually write fics because I can’t hold my attention down long enough to think about a whole story. I usually like to draw because I love it and it gets my ideas out quicker. But I can’t stop thinking about this scenario and the dialogues between the characters that I have to let it out! This is my first fanfic so please be gentle but still love some criticism to my writing. ☺️ also THANK YOU for the support for the other post. I’m glad y’all like it. Also! Not going to be too much Shizaya yet. I wanted to be more Tom and Shizuo friendship centric here.

<TW> mentions of murder, child rape, cannabilisim

(Scenario: News has spread all over Japan of a brutal sexual assault and murder case of 10 year old Misaki Suzuki in Ikebukoro. Details of the murder was leaked to the public early leading to Tom Tanaka arrest while the public and social media are pushing for his death sentence. Tom is waiting to be put on trial. Shizuo visits his accused friend in jail )

Seeing Tom after a week since the… incident.. it looked like Tom aged 10 years. Shizuo sits down and picks up the phone on the left side of the wall and sees Tom so the same. They wait till security leaves and they were alone.

“Hey Tom.. are you okay?…. Wait, shit uhh sorry…that’s a dumb ass question to ask. How are you holding up?”

“…Not very good honestly… who knew being hunged over, fired and being put to jail on the same day really wears a person out haha…”

Tom laughs to lighten the situation but Shizuo can tell it’s fake and self depreciating. Shizuo raises his right arm and tries to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He looks earnestly at Tom.

“You didn’t do it.”

Tom drops the small smile he had and his eyes showed what he truly felt inside. Completely hopeless.

“Why do you think that? You even said you saw me. Everyone thinks I did it. Even my family. I know they do…my mother refuses to answer the phone. And she always answers the phone. Hell I’m even starting to believe it too. “

“No”, Shizuo says sternly,”it doesn’t add up. I told the police I was with you most of that night. All those fucked up things that happened to the kid. It doesn’t even make sense….you couldn’t of been the one to do it. I’m sure there were cameras at the bar we were at. You couldn’t be at two places at once Tom. That’s impossible”

“A lot of impossible things happen in this city Shizuo. I’m staring at a guy who can lift trucks with no problem”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

Shizuo hates that Tom is feeling this way. He’s upset and pissed at the whole situation. He was pissed the whole time the police was questioning him. He doesn’t have a problem with them per se, even with his bad history with them. It was the repetitive way they were asking the same.damn.questions. Over and over just said differently. It was to see if he would change his story and it was getting on his last nerves. They were betting on Shizuo to give up Tom because they got DNA evidence and even bite mark evidence. All matching down to the very last tooth. But he hold his ground and kept telling them the truth. The police were obviously getting annoyed but he didn’t give a damn. They were trying to get justice for Misaki. They wanted to blame the person all the signs who is pointed at. It made sense. He still would of beaten their asses. But would not helped his or Toms case at all.

He first thought was Izaya since he’s always the cause of all Shizuos problems. This time, it didn’t have izaya’s stink and it didn’t sit right with Shizuo. Izaya usually makes himself known that Shizuo is the bane of Izaya’s existence. The flea is a coward and ruin people’s lives, however…. this… even he thinks izaya doesn’t cross a certain line.

After dealing with the police for hours he went home but he couldn’t get much sleep. The image of Tom running away covered in Misaki’s blood burned in his mind. When he did sleep he wake up having nightmares of finding Misaki body in that dark alley over and over. At the time, he didn’t knew what he saw being he was buzzed from the night of drinking .He didn’t know it was the little girl till he saw the face. The body itself was almost unrecognizable. The body was mangled and ripped apart like a huge animal had gotten her. She was close to Akanes age and sometimes in his dreams both their faces will merge together staring at Shizuo with those same cold dead eyes. That wasn’t the worst part of his nightmares. The absolute worst part was imagination giving him vivid images what the Tom imposter did before Misaki’s murder. He wished he didn’t know..

“Didn’t you also hear from the police shizuo.?,” Tom avoids his eyes.”They also found my DNA all over the scene. They found dna in the building, the van, clothes, inside-

Toms stopped when his voiced hitched a little.

“…the cops showed me pictures…..They were trying to get me to confess but I really don’t remember after I was drinking. I shouldn’t kept drinking. You were right I should of stopped after drink three I should-“

“Hey”. Shizuo says in a harsher manner than he intended.

While Tom tries not to completely break down in front of Shizuo, Shizuo looks at the situation with pure anger and frustration. He can feel the familiar burning feeling simmering beneath his skin. He’s used of being feared like a inhuman beast he is. People feared, and held animosity towards Shizuo. He’s used to that. But Tom wasn’t. Tom literally has the whole world against him right now.

“You don’t deserve to be here..” he almost whispers in the receiver. “ you’re not the monster everyone says you are. I know this not because I was with you most of that night. I know you. We wouldn’t be friends if you pissed me off.”

Their was silence between them. The pause went on too long for Shizuos liking. Toms smile was tired, a little shaky when he sighed but grateful. It was a sigh of relief someone was there at their lowest.

“I think this is the first time you called me one. I was wondering if you ever referred me besides being your boss.” Tom closes his eyes while slightly leans back in his chair with his arms crossed and one side of his mouth perked up. “It feels weird getting the side of being pepped talked at but….” He looks at shizuo with thankful eyes

“Thanks…for getting angry that night. Well, for my behalf. Honestly, that’s the most nicest thing someone has done for me so far since I’ve been in this cage. I’m glad I still have you as a friend. Though I’m not your boss anymore.”

Shizuo doesn’t let too many people in his life in because of the fear of him accidentally hurting them. But this is Tom. Who was their for him at his lowest. He helped him to get most of the thugs off him during middle school. Gave him the suggestion to dye his hair blonde. Given him a job where everything else has failed. Even with izaya interfering with most of them, he knew his temper alone is the first cause of them. Tom helped him so much more than Shizuo deserved. Tom was the last person to be in this fucked up position. Even with the limited pool of relationships he has, he knew when a friend needed him. So he said what he knew he can do best.

“I’ll kill the asshole who put you in this mess. You didn’t kill the girl. I will prove your innocence one way or another. No matter what. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure where to start but I will find them.”

He can’t ask Tom to trust him. He’s afraid to ask. It would be too much faith to ask he had on him when he didn’t had that much faith in himself. Back of his mind, he’s afraid to fail. The voice nagging him, telling him he’s a fuck up. He’s nothing more than a beast destroying everything in his wake. But he’s gotta try. He’s too scared of the alternative option. Tom dying alone believing he’s not worth saving. So he squashes, pushes, kickes and punches that voice back as far it can go. Tom needed to see he’s trying. Tom just smiled at him.

“I trust you on that shizuo. I don’t usually go for violence but this is a special case. I wish I can be there to witness you do it. You still owe me a drink.”

“You still want to drink after this?” Shizuo jokes. Tom smiles a little wider and puts his left hand on his chin in contemplation.

“Hmmm You right. I’m done with drinking for a while. I’ll just settle with trying not to get killed in prison.”

*Aannnd that’s it! Im not sure how much I can do writing before I burn out but the dialogue is the fun part. Doing backgrounds will forever be a fun and the bane of my existence. I hope I stayed IC. I want to do a scenario where shizuo and izaya will work together but my brain will go straight to fluffy moments lol. *

[liddolwhynot2000]

Decisions Of a Capricorn

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Summary: Levi Ackerman woke up one fine morning. In the past. Shit.

Genre: Angst, lets-change-shit, drama, liddol romance (Levixhappiness)

Warning: Manga spoilers

____________________________________

Chapter 1: Admit it

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Summary: As a Capricorn, patience and determination are amongst your most well known qualities. Although no one is immune to occasional frustrations, you attempt to be understanding and calm in all your dealings.

Alternatively, Levi tries to make sense of what the hell is going on and tries not to chose violence.

____________________________________

What. the. Fuck.

This couldn't be happening, it seriously couldn't. Was it a dream? No, he had punched his fist into a wall, pinched himself but still, it all felt too real. Maybe he was in some sort of fucked up heaven? Whatever the case, he felt ready to throw hands with whatever deity had done this to him.

With a shaky breath, Levi began to calm himself and sort through the situation. His fingers were back, he could see from his left eye again. There weren't any scars on his face nor any bandages on his chest. Levi was, by all means, back to his prime. Which would be great news really, except he was apparently five fucking years in the past. At least he thought it was five, considering the very much alive faces of his Special Ops Squad.

He had woken up, disorientated, expecting to either be bleeding out or in hell with Erwin. The sight of his impeccably clean office had made him pause. When he had heard a knock on the door and automatically told the person to come in, he had damn near short circuited at the sight of a very much alive Eld, strolling in with a cup of steaming tea.

What. The. Fuck.

Years of dealing with Hange and titans and the bullshit called life had hardened Levi to the point he could keep his expression neutral infront of the teen. He listened as Eld prattled on about duties and nodded along, not trusting himself to speak lest he shatter the world he had ended up in.

'.. Captain we'll be leaving for the castle today with Eren..'

Eren. Eren fucking Yeager. Oh God, he was going to kick this brats ass. Even if this likely was nothing more then an illusion, he would whoop Eren to hell and back for the shit he had put them through-

'Umm- captain?'

Snapping out of his vivid strangling Eren fantasies, he composed himself.

'We'll leave shortly. Prepare for the journey.

'Yes Sir!'

On second thought, Levi thought as he leaned back in his chair, whatever deity had thrown him here might deserve a little thanks. He owed Yeager a black eye. Scratch that, he owed both Yeagers a black eye. Well, in Zeke's case it was more of a blade through his throat. Maybe he could at least achieve that in his dream world.

____________________________________

'.... So the mission plan is..'

Levi had spent the last 5 years missing his dear friend. He had truly cherished Erwin, and hadn't enjoyed his own part in the man's death. But, he had forgotten how tedious and boring meetings with him were. Just how did the man go on and on about this crap and not lose his mind? And how had he ever listened along and not bashed someone's, preferably his own, head on the wall?

Sipping his tea, he silently wondered how long this was going to last. The weird fantasy he was stuck was exceptionally accurate, not a thing out of place. It was almost as if it was all real. But he knew better then to delude himself, and so was only really playing along until he was back in his own time. Or world. Or whatever. The figuring out what-the-hell-is-going-on was more of Hange's thing. Speaking of which, Levi paused mid sip as someone kicked the door open, interrupting Erwin mid speech.

'....Ness and his squad are in the right-'

'ERWWWIINNNN'.

Levi perked up. Just a few hours ago, he had seen the exuberant woman burn to death. One of his closest friends was suddenly alive and well and absolutely fi-

'PLEASE LET ME EXPERIMENT ON EREN PLE-'.

And, just as obnoxiously loud as ever, he chuckled to himself. He watched as she enthusiastically shook Erwin, demanding Eren for herself. The usually composed blonde commander looked like he wished he was the commander of any other military branch as he fended her off. Moblit could only try and fail to pull her away.

This Hange looked just as youthful she had been before becoming commander. Her eyes bright, arms flailing around like a tornado, voice screeching higher then it should be legal. It was the Hange that had been missing for quite some time now-replaced by an overburdened, tired version of herself. It felt good to see her rampaging around and giving Moblit heart problems and probably reducing his lifespan. Just like the old times.

'Hey shitty four eyes.'

'Hi Le..vi..'

Hange trailed off, clearly stunned. Erwin raised an eyebrow at him while Levi nonchalantly set his tea cup down.

'What? You constipated?'

'No, it's just, you never say hi to me..'

'Yes I do.'

Hange went on as though she hadn't heard him.

'....While smiling like that.'

Oh. That explained alot. Levi hastily corrected his expression, he had gotten too caught up in his relief of seeing Hange alive and actually smiled at her. Said woman, however, was suddenly in his face, hand resting on his forehead.

'Do you have a fever? What if this is a side effect of titan shifters on short people-'

'Shut the fuck up four eyes.'

'And he's back to normal. So, Erwin, I need Eren to myself for-'

'Hange- you're talking too fast-'

'Section Commander please calm down-'

'....We have so many experiments to conduct. What if there are titans attracted to Eren? What if he gives off pheremones and they want to MATE with him?'

The entire room went silent. Moblit looked like his soul had left his body, Erwin and Levi stared at her in disbelief. The former looked ready to hand in his resignation to God for his existence and the latter looked irritated.

Thankfully, Erwin spoke up first, before Levi could attempt to throw Hange out the window.

'That's enough. We won't be putting him through experiments that we know have no basis-'

Levi watched as Erwin began lecturing a pouting Hange. He poured a cup of tea and nudged it towards Moblit, who tossed him a grateful look.

A part of him wanted to smile, happy to be back with the people he cared about. To have his comrades alive and well in front of him. It gave him a sense of peace that he hadn't had in a long time.

But, ever the pessimistic, he dashed his own hopes.

None of this was real.

____________________________________

It was an effort, but through sheer will power, Levi managed to curb his violent urge to beat the shit out of Eren. Instead, he allowed them to make their journey to the castle, feeling hazy and distracted. His squad and Eren chattered as he rode ahead on his horse. He could vaguely make out Olou obnoxiously picking on Eren and biting his tongue. Just like the last time he had been there.

He couldn't bring himself too look at them for too long, the horrifying scenes of their deaths would start flashing in his mind. Too long his nightmares had consisted of the deaths of the people riding alongside him. He often darkly imagined that they had blamed him. For not getting there in time. For not telling them about the female titan. For being a useless, shitty captai-

Levi cut off that train of thought. Not now. Not when they were in front of him, so full of life.

Seeing his squad, alive and bickering like usual, it was too good of a sight to pass up. Olou childishly imitating him, Eld and Gunther poking fun at Petra and Olou, Eren floundering about as though he wasn't planning on mass murdering billions of people in five years. It made him miss them even more, knowing none of what was happening was actually happening.

He had spent years mourning his comrades. When Paradise had begun advancing in technology, when they had seen the ocean and explored what was on the other side of it, he had missed all of them. Achieving so much without them had always left him feeling a little empty.

How long was this journey going to last? How long would he spend in this fantasy world? Why was he even here? Maybe he was still alive and hallucinating about the people of his past. This was all in his head, the dying dreams of a useless old man taking his last breathes. As they reached the castle, he immediately gave orders for cleaning the filthy place.

He would mourn his own failures later.

____________________________________

Later at night, Levi sat in his chair, feeling his frustration return to him full force. Dream world or not, it didn't change how useless he had become. Losing to that shitty monkey, getting so brutally injured, unable to contribute a damn thing to the battle. Armin had gotten kidnapped right in front of his eyes, Connie had nearly died and Mikasa of all people had to save him . He was the one those idiots called humanity's strongest yet he had been nothing but cannon fodder. A burden.

He hadn't been able to do shit for them. Zeke was still alive, a horde of shitty titans with limitless energy were blocking their way to Eren, they had no supplies and no way of leaving the battlefield without Armin. An absolutely pathetic situation--and it had been all his fault.

If only he had killed Zeke back in the forest. If he had chopped his head off and burned his body to ashes, none of this would have happened. Eren had needed Zeke to activate the rumbling, without him, none of this would have happened. So many lives had been lost because of that monkey, turned into mindless titans and slaughtered. Commander Pixis, Nile..

And he was the one who let it get that far.

Rather then ending the entire battle in a flash- he had made a mistake. A mistake that had cost them too much. His own abilities and the lives of his comrades. He would never be able to sleep in peace again.

With Zeke dead, they would have had time. Eren would need Historia for the rumbling and would have had to wait till she gave birth. They could have talked things through--or sealed Eren up or even given Eren's power to someone else. Anything would have been better then the senseless genocide Eren had launched.

A part of him also questioned if he was to blame for Eren lashing out like this. Coming up with such a plan, going against the military.. Why had Eren not trusted him? He hadn't been the nicest but, Levi felt a pang of hurt as thought about how much he had sacrificed for Eren. His comrades and their lives had been reduced to less then dirt particles, to keep Eren alive. Only for him to turn on them so easily. If Eren and Zeke had been really working together, did that mean he had known Zeke would try to kill him? Was there anything he could have done to change the outcome of all of this? Just where had he messed up with Eren and lost track of him? Despite all the questions plaguing him, he knew he couldn't undo the past. Dwelling on it like this was doing him no favours.

And now, here he was, despite his failiures, in tip top shape, completely okay. Yet he wasn't where he was needed. His brats were fighting for their lives and here he was fantasising about a better life as though he hadn't just damned all the others.

Scowling fiercely, he forced himself to calm down. Nothing would make how miserable he was feeling go away. He could only wait for himself to wake up and face his reality. Hopefully, he would be the only casualty in the mission. He wasn't sure he could look any of them in the eye again if he lived and one of them hadn't. Sasha's death had already been too much for him.

His headache wouldn't go away, so he went to make himself some tea. Only, he found himself stopping short at the sound of someone sniffling. Levi discreetly approached the source of the sound.

Remus Ferguson

The brat had been in the survey corps for about a year now. If Levi recalled right, he had lost his girlfriend in the last expedition, which explained the tears so late at night. Remus himself would die when the female titan attack-

Wait.

What. The. Fuck.

He hadn't seen this before. Everything so far, every interaction, it had occurred before. But this hadn't. He hadn't seen remus crying last time. He had known of Remus crying up a storm at night, courtesy of his squad members. But he hadn't witnessed it first hand.

Watching the teen sob, he began rationalising the events of today.

If he was in some self constructed fantasy world, why wasn't it all happy? Why were there still titans? Why was anyone in pain? Where were Isabel and Farlan? He knew he had never wanted to see any of his comrades in pain. Unless...this wasn't just a dying man's fantasy..

If he had to fantasise about a happier time in his life, wouldn't it be with his mother? He had always known that the one thing he had wanted most in the past twenty something years was to feel his mother's warmth again. To hear her sweet voice sing him a lullaby to sleep. So if he really was dying, why see this? Why be back at a time where everything was just okay? Why not a time where he was actually happy?

In fact, why not a world where he everyone he wanted to be alive was alive? Rather then a dream, it felt like he had been plucked from one time period and left to live his life from another one...

His mind raced as he finally reached a conclusion, and without a second thought he fled back to his room, too shocked to acknowledge his new discovery.

____________________________________

A knife had been Levi's companion in life far longer then any other human being. His mother, Kenny, Isabel, Farlan, Erwin, Hange and all his other comrades had come and gone. But knives had been consistent. Constant.

Even after he had escaped the clutches of the underground and its lawlessness, he had always carried one with him. It made him feel safe, knowing he had weapon-- even if it was virtually useless while fighting titans. Of course, Erwin hadn't known about it. It was the one thing he wasn't willing to be talked out of, even by Erwin.

Although, Levi mused to himself, Erwin would have been justified in taking it away if he could see him right now, pointing said weapon at his arm, ready to slice.

If he actually bled, if he was still sitting here, bleeding but alive and well, he would admit his findings to himself and move forward, just as he always had. He would accept the situation, no matter how crazy it seemed, and plan accordingly.

Resolving himself, he slid the knife.

Ten minutes later, Levi finally admitted it.

He had travelled back in time.

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A/N: So this idea got stuck in my head, because I rewatched AOT and realized a bunch of stuff that could be changed. I picked Levi because he's my favorite. There's going to be more parts for this--where Levi just changes everything. And it'll basically end up a happier AOT. And yes, I plan on giving Levi some romance in this too, because this boi deserves it 😤. It won't be complete happiness and fluff, because I plan on it being realistic. I also don't know if anyone would actually like this but the urge to write it was too great. So, till next time!⭐

[sweet-cynical-writer]

Fyodor Dostoevsky with 22

Thank you for requesting! (◡ ω ◡)

Angst Prompt 22: "You are the reason why I can't do this anymore."

Warnings: Vivid Gore, Poison, Major Death!

Please proceed with caution!

Wilted Flower

"Fyodor enough!! I said THAT'S ENOUGH!!!"

It was raining that night it happened. The man who simply wanted to do you a kindness in handing you an umbrella was brutally murdered by none other than the love of your life, Fyodor. He was still beating the man's face in with the umbrella until it was like ground meat. Mushed sounds coming from below and the blood of that man splattered on Fyodor's face from him repeatedly swinging into him.

You had to scream bloody murder until he finally finished letting out his unbridled rage on the dead corpse. Surely by now you should be used to the way he kills if anyone so looked in your direction. But instead of numbing yourself to his actions it was draining you.

"Fyo.. Fyodor please.. I want to go home."

He stared at you with that same blank expression. The dead look in those deep purple hues that told you what he said the first time he killed a man that you'll never forget.

"If anyone so looks in your direction or speaks your name, consider them dead unless it's me."

And you thought of it as a protective measurement for awhile and you wanted to keep believing that Fyodor was just very protective of his sweet flower.

You were so wrong. Over months since you had been dating, he has killed hundreds of men who did exactly what he warned you about. And regardless of him doing the killing, their blood were on your hands.

The endless nightmares of you killing all those innocent men who only wanted to pay you kindness were dead because of you. It was your fault. If Fyodor didn't have you to protect then maybe then he wouldn't kill this much.

Simple answer. Kill yourself. End your sinful life and Fyodor would stop killing. So easy yet such a painful thing to carry out. But you couldn't continue witnessing his killings anymore. You were so tired. A once blooming flower now wilted beyond repair.

He spotted you drinking out of a wine bottle after having taken several pain killers to numb out any feeling in your body. You began to laugh and giggle to yourself while Fyodor simply watched.

Then you collapsed on the floor, nose bleeding and you gasped for air. It was like you could barely form words as Fyodor knelt beside you to hold in his arms. He didn't say a thing and just watched you thrash in his arms.

You opened your mouth to reveal bloody gums from ingesting rat poison, how fitting for you to die by something that should kill a rat. Your words shaking and in a low whisper as you looked at Fyodor smiling.

"I'm sorry.. Fyo.. I.. just can't.. do this.. anymore.. you're.. the reason.. why I can't.. do this.. anymore.."

Tears went down the sides of your head and you felt exhilaration from the pain of death eating you up from the inside. The rat poison was causing internal bleeding and you wouldn't last much longer now.

Fyodor leaned in to give you one last kiss on the lips. It was everlasting and yet so bitter. Just as you had dreamed. You coughed up blood and felt your organs failing. It was time for you to go. Forever.

"Sleep now, my beauty... Rest eternally."

He closed your eyes and your body went cold.

[divineecelestial]

Out of Your League — One

PAIRINGS — BUCKY BARNES X READER

SERIES SUMMARY — IN WHICH BUCKY BARNES GAINS A CRUSH ON A WOMAN SO OUT OF HIS LEAGUE.

PROLOGUE 

CHAPTER ONE — Bucky can’t seem to focus on his breakfast with you around.

“You’re staring again.” Sam, although he was dreadfully exasperating with his satirical remarks, was awfully perceptive. Dusk was overhead, the dark-blue skies established partial darkness that colored the kitchen room with a delicate gloom. With an insolent smirk, Sam poured the amber-colored syrup over his stack of pancakes with his fork perched in his other hand. From across the room, music lowly echoed through the room as you used a dull black spatula to make pancakes and scrambled eggs. You were mindlessly swaying to the faint song, your silk pajamas delightfully thin and tight. 

Bucky apprehensively removed his softened gaze from your careless, lithe figure and stabbed his fork into the stack of golden brown pancakes. “What,” He rhetorically asked, shoving a mouthful of buttered pancakes in his mouth while shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His voice was muffled and a trickle of maple syrup dripped down the side of his chin. Of course, he knew what Sam was talking about. 

“You’re practically drooling,” Sam replied, referring to the syrup sticking to his beard. Bucky didn’t respond, merely wiped the dribble away and glared, obviously unamused by Sam’s vocal observations. He wasn’t staring, he tried to convince himself. He was admiring. You were listening to the music with a gentle expression and your hair messily framed your face. You enthusiastically scooped a spoonful of bright yellow scrambled eggs and flopped them down on an ornate plate. As you flicked the stove off and whirled around, Bucky hurriedly glanced down at the nearly barren plate, gathering his composure as you pulled a chair beside him. 

You were immersed in sipping your fresh orange juice and Sam took advantage of your blissful ignorance to provide a severely unwanted and suggestive look. He gathered his empty dishes and placed them in the sink before leaving the kitchen, not-so-subtly performing a series of inappropriate gestures before disappearing from view.

As the placid silence thickened between you and Bucky, the ambiance surrounding you became increasingly obvious; the jubilant chirping from the birds cowering away in dewy branches, the leftover crackling from the grease you cooked bacon on, the wordless music that drifted into nothingness. Lithely, you centralized your focus on him. He mimicked you, his eyes tender as they traveled over your bare face. Unexpectedly, you quietly chuckled. “You have a piece of pancake in your hair,” You said, easing his concerns. You absentmindedly reached for the remnant, your dainty hands delicately pulling at the ends of his hair. Your hand brushed against his beard, caressing his bare skin. Your doe-eyes never faltered from his and the intimacy rippling through them was virile. “It’s nice your voice was the first thing I heard today.” You mused, peering upward through your thick lashes, gentle-like.

You were awakened from the colorful fragments of your dreams to the silence of the headquarters, calm and tranquil. You didn’t mind making breakfast, especially when your music entertained you while flipping golden-brown pancakes. You knew the moment of unbothered relaxation was momentary, especially when you knew Sam was going to smell freshly cooked bacon and barge into the kitchen as if he hadn’t eaten in months. You were savoring the serenely quiet occasion. 

Then he appeared—harmless and apprehensive as he complimented your cooking abilities. His voice wasn’t a disturbance or a bother. You greeted him, serving him a perfectly stacked pile and poured the syrup for him. Bucky was mesmerized by the simplicity of your actions; they were angelical and selfless. Of course, you didn’t need to make him breakfast and happily serve him with no annoyance visible in your eyes, but you did anyway. Bucky wasn’t sure when the last time someone served him food that wasn’t carelessly splattered on a rusted tray and tossed his direction. The simplicity of your harmless gesture was baffling. Was he seriously entranced by you pouring syrup on his pancakes? 

Bucky absentmindedly moved closer to you. Your exposed thigh caressed his clothed one. When he didn’t respond, you shoved a greasy piece of bacon between your teeth. “Why do you always seem so surprised with my flattery,” You questioned, resting your cheek on your palm as you gave him your undivided attention. “I just think you’re really special. You deserve special things.” Bucky liked that about you. You were candid, unintimidated by affection.

He pushed his empty plate away from him, rotating his muscular body to completely face you. “Most people would disagree.” You replicated his movements, resulting in both your thighs intertwined, gently brushing against each other. He wasn’t particularly liked by lower-ranking agents, not that he minded or was negatively impacted by their dislike, but he knew his former Winter Soldier status wasn’t easily forgotten.

“I don’t care about other people. I care about you,” Your voice was fragranced with a honeyed softness. Your smaller hand caressed his, your touch lingering like a feather. “I’ve always cared about you.” Ever since he arrived at the compound, you were there to be the anchor of familiarity in this compound of unfamiliarity. It had been two months since he was introduced to you, a moment that was engraved within his mind because you were so welcoming and involuntarily charming and pretty when you described in vivid detail how you brutally murdered a squad of goons with your perfectly-manicured hands—hands that were brushing against his lightly in a distracting softness. 

Bucky sipped his orange juice tentatively. “You and Steve might be the only ones.” He had his friends here, obviously. Steve was his brother, always by his side. Sam, although incredibly annoying and pesky, considered him a friend, but he was still closer to Steve. He was cordial to everyone else, as they were to him, but the connection still hadn’t bonded completely yet.

You chuckled as he finished drinking the remainder of his juice. “Seems like a ridiculous thing to say, don’t you think? Especially considering how untrue it is.” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugged. “All the other agents hate me.”

You grabbed his hands, the warmth you radiated finally enveloped his skin. “Those people have no idea what they’re missing. I’ve never come across a greater pleasure than knowing you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky swallowed the lump lodged within his throat. “I like when you say  my name.” He admitted in a soft, unsure voice. 

You smiled tenderly. “Well, James Buchanan Barnes, I don’t like it when you say self- deprecating things like that,” You brought his reflective, metal hand to your plump lips, eyes fluttering at him. “You’re a wonderful person, don’t forget that.”

Bucky could have collapsed at the feeling of your tempting lips on him, but your amused smile distracted him. “You’re blushing so hard and I haven’t even properly kissed you yet.” As the words escaped your mouth, Bucky wasn’t entirely sure if he had heard you correctly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, it was if his tongue was jumbled and tied. You stood from your chair, purposely allowing a glimpse of your bare skin peeking from beneath your silk pajamas. “All in good time, Bucky. There’s no rush.”

As you departed from view and he could no longer hear your light footsteps, Bucky unstiffened and slumped back onto his chair, releasing a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He glanced at the spot on his hand where your lips had been seconds ago. Yeah, he was definitely, irrevocably, and undoubtedly fucked. 

Sam and Steve emerged from the hallway with proud and excited expressions. Sam slapped his back in a brotherly manner. “I have no idea how someone like (Y/N) is interested in someone like you, but get it, brother.” 

Bucky furrowed his brows. “Wait—”

Steve playfully nudged Sam. “Come on, we have to be supportive.”

“You’re telling me it makes sense that (Y/N) is giving him the time of day?” 

There was a moment of silence. “I mean—”

Bucky stood and left the room, ignoring Sam’s laughter. And as his back was towards them, he couldn’t contain the small mutter. “Assholes.”

TAGS —

@mielfromvenus

[the-darklings]

Do you have more headcanons for OC!V ? 🥺🥺🥺

OF COURSE I DO, SHE’S MY BABY 🥺🥺🥺

These lowkey also include a lot of V/J & V/S, too. Because I’m trash for them. Also, this got very long oopsie.

Mumbles in her sleep a lot. Her nightmares/dreams are vivid so you can hear all sorts of interesting things being murmured. She often dreams about John and Santino so their names get whispered often. 😌

Adores going to gardens and smelling/inspecting different flowers/plants. One of the big reasons she loved Naples is because she could go and explore and do whatever in the gardens. Same for when she stayed with Camorra. She likes growing her own materials to use in her solutions/poisons when she can.

Santino infected her with the dancing bug. She’s not necessarily that good but she finds it oddly calming and it lets her focus her attention elsewhere and sometimes they do it casually just for a laugh (as if he would refuse lmao)

Back in the day, she used to try and crack John’s stoic demeanour almost daily by doing the dumbest/cutest shit just to see if he smiles/laughs. He liked her far too much anyway but always found her attempts endearing. He never used to have many reasons to be happy but she was like a ray of sunshine in his life.

Every time she does a job for Santino, he always makes sure to sneak in some time just for them. Be it shopping, dinner, visiting local landmarks etc. Even if it’s just sitting together with a glass of wine as long as they’re together.

Training with John always used to be hard and strenuous. He took her progress remarkably seriously (both because he wanted her to be a reliable partner and because he later genuinely didn’t want her to die on him) but she’s pretty ticklish, so there were one too many times when he used to put his arms around her to show her the right stance and she used to start giggling. Her smile could be so disarming, he lowkey just used to soak it up, silent.

She nibbles on her lower lip a lot when she works or is focused on something. You can imagine just how fun that is for John and Santino.

There have been a few times when money ran out for her because Tarasov took the whole cut (usually as punishment) but Winston never once kicked her out of the Continental. In fact, he always used to “summon” her for dinner and “discussion”.

Has a really bad sleep schedule but so does Santino so they often end up ringing each other at like 4am to simply talk. There’s been many times when she has called just so she has someone on the line with her when her PTSD flares up or after an especially draining job.

Sometimes she gets so exhausted that she ends up napping in random spots but only where she feels absolutely safe to do so. The first time she napped in Santino’s penthouse apartment, the man couldn’t wipe the grin off his face for two days.

She likes it when people play with her hair a lot though she’s unwilling to admit it. She always used to close her eyes and relax when John braided it for her, not even bothering to hide her fond smile from him. Santino has a habit of often twirling strands around his fingers and she never stops him, either. She has a bit of a fascination with his hair, too. The man is a smug feline when it comes to her affection.

She’s a big animal person even if she could never have any. That’s why she bonded so quickly with Cheesburger and adores Sofia’s murder bois, too.

The first job she ever did with John ended up going so well, so effortlessly brutal, that it ended up terrifying her. Hearing about John’s skill was one thing but actually seeing it chilled her and awed her at the same time. She ended up giving him a cold shoulder for a bit after, focusing on getting better. It was John that eventually reassured her that he doesn’t expect her to be him just herself but alive. It was the first time she realised she might have misjudged him. Though the comparison and expectation have always shrouded her, especially after John left and Tarasov needed that gap bridged.

One time when Santino was being an especially annoying shit, she texted him a casual, “I’m in trouble. I need your help to bury someone.” The man didn’t even hesitate, “Tell me where.” And she was like 🤡 she still sometimes messes with him though his responses often make her go “????”

One time, Iosef tried to make a pass on her and she promised him that no one will find his body if he touches her again. Iosef complained to his father of course but Tarasov laughed and asked her to have a drink with him instead, saying that making that boy fear something was actually a good thing. Hence the brat’s snippy attitude towards her in Ch4.

She sneakily found out Winston’s birthday from Charon and Charon’s birthday from Winston. She gets presents for both because they’re her family.

Used to really dislike the Albanian crime syndicates but after the blood feud between them and Camorra and V/S managing to secure an alliance, she made friends amongst the new generation of them.

She is!!! So!!! Protective!!! Of!!! Those!!! She!! Loves!!! She’s terrified of losing more people 🥺

Hates sun-dried tomatoes much to Santino’s silent despair.

She often gets involved in Camorra’s “let’s make a bet” game but she’s selective what she bets on because she uses her brains. One time she beat Hector into giving her 100k. The man is still salty about it because he was always the undefeated one.

Peaches are her favourite fruit. In turn, she doesn’t like bananas. They’re like mush. But she will eat them if needed because she’s not picky about food just has a preference.

She actually created Santino’s fragrance first. The idea came to her after Chicago.

While John always knew her name from Tarasov, she still told him properly herself and he only started calling her Clara after she told him. He told her his real name during their last mission together (Dublin job). When it comes to Santino, she told him after she got him back from the syndicate that took him in Prague. She promised him in his delirious state that if he pulls through, she would tell him. She did it when he first woke up.

Santino enjoys teaching her his local dialect of Italian (Neapolitan) if only because he enjoys seeing how her face scrunches up when she repeats the words. She always takes learning so seriously while he’s just there like “you are literally too beautiful right now for me to handle” and keeps grinning/teasing her if only for her to scowl and swat at him, grumbling at him to take it seriously.

She has sneaked a few photos of those closest to her over the years. They’re private and she keeps them with her stash of solutions/poisons in Continental vaults so no one ever finds them. They include: Winston and Charon, Santino and Ares (a few of them three altogether), one of John, her and Sofia and the murder bois, the Elites minus Hector because he’s an ass, Gianna and her, a very reluctant one of Cassian that Step helped her to sneak in amongst others. 🥺

She knew John liked her when he allowed her to drive his car. She usually always rode shotgun and liked opening the windows down to let the wind play with her hair. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine that they were both free and out driving due to enjoyment. John used to always drive just a bit faster, too—almost like he could escape the reality for a while with her.

She’s lonely. She’s very, very sad sometimes, too, but then she sees/eats dinner with Winston or gets a text from Santino or Ares, and remembers that she has people who care for her and her for them. She fights through the bad days for them.

Despite her grousing how irritating Santino can be, she does miss him when they’re apart though she won’t admit it. There have been a few, rare occasions when she’s hugged him upon reunion though, and there is that lingering need in her touch that for once clamps his mouth shut and he doesn’t tease her about it, just hold her close. Knowing that she needs him at least on some level is better than nothing.

[dantesinfcrno]

trigger warnings !!  suicide, suicidal thoughts, drug use / overdose, body horror, death, blood, violence, self harm, abusive relationships. most importantly, bad writing!

                                𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈  ：𝐇𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐀 .

frigidity, heartlessness ╱ the absence of love ╱ virgin mary, corrupted .

winter child with shards on its mouth –– the snow quivers before khione, goddess whose lips do not tremble. cataclysm upon birth, no life to be seen as monster opens its eyes. before words could be uttered, before a name could be given to beast, untamed, it knew of fate. worthless creature, undeserving of shedding a tear. void big enough to fill any mansion, all touch lost –– who would cradle an interrupted demon, a fallen angel?  who would wipe the anguish that never created roots inside tiny body, broken?  

                                                         ( … )

one vivid memory: it sitting down in the floor a living room ( no house is ever the same: all empty in a pantheon of different ways ). it is invisible, as Father dreams of his own tales, as Mother unravels the world. no one holds it up. –––– galatea?  –––– it calls for Her, voice too firm for a child, first words incisive ╱ poignant knife. She stares into its eyes, peering at the chaos She created –– and turns Her back.

                                                         ( … )

verses wrote themselves against its skin, fairies would whisper secrets into its heart. before it could walk, small deity devoured books –– in search of a love he did not know of, this powerful feeling it could never obtain. the titans who gave birth to lucifer ╱ lilith, anew, could spare it no sweet nothings. the tutors brought in could not hold down treacherous creature, could not embrace it, could not understand it. oh, the gentle kiss that would break the curse. oh, the sweet princess that would awake humanity inside tainted guts. the choirs sang of redemption, absolution –– but they also snarled at child born with a target on its back, holy water falling at its feet. you were never meant to receive tenderness ; you shall not know what love entails. it all echoed inside this fortitude: melancholy the only tune beast ever knew ╱ maddening: to never be touched ; to never be loved without worship, without loathing.

                                                         ( … )

poignant claws would drag themselves over a violin, and he interrogated the stars. who else, who else. can famine become savior?  can ferocious teeth learn to taste another’s core without devouring it whole?  i can try, i can try. boy, blizzard –– locking itself in the garden of eden, mortality discovered as fingers bleed, as thorns find home in the anatomy of god, interrupted. –––– you can be anything you desire, vessel. –––– serpent hisses, crawling up its core. –––– i choose to live. i choose to love all monsters, made out of darkness & concrete alike. –––– dante replies, half-smothered, half-breathing, apple tasting sanguine on his lips. ophidian smiles, knowing this end will be self-made. –––– you can’t be helped, child, you can’t be helped.

                  –––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 . ––––––

                               𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈  ：𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐀 .

resentment, anger ╱ agape ╱ your presence soothes me .

to seize the adoration one was never deserving of: a sin, an addiction. bringer of nightmares, a king crowned with madness –– and all he wants is all he can never have, prince amongst commoners, crawling through cobbled streets in search of scraps. there is relief in the tender stares he receives from older women, insisting him to turn back and find home. i don’t have one, i never had one. bones of a boy, muscles of a boy, but he –– savage, feral, bleeding life into a world that despises him.

                                                         ( … )

this is what he knows of love: he must give it, even when it hurts –– somebody must be willing to rip their own flash, gift it away, and remain lacking forever. with hate, he learns this: puncture your flesh in order to feed the mouths that bite your legs ; turn your head to receive double the punishment, as it might turn you palatable ( they all want to break you, and if you shatter prettily enough, you might find gilded dregs to store inside your ribs ) ; swallow what no one wants to hear &  drown in it.

                                                        ( … )

being made entirely of open wounds, there is no deity capable of dragging him back to the fiery pits that gifted him life ╱ gifted him curse. lucky vessel, so close to a heart of his own. he rips one off a deer ( unfortunate as all that cross his path ) ; does not recall his face as he becomes other. the horror of inevitability is the only beauty he knows of, as he undresses, carrying only skin &  blood. summer child ╱ crooked teeth, crooked smile. eris lies underneath ophelia: sweet, poisoned honey. there is an empty space, and there is laughter by its side. lord shiva, this is all i have, this is all i am. is there any other way to love, but to turn into madness?  dante’s shrines are always filled with silence –– but he still brings limbs, lungs, livers as offerings to friends, lovers, foes.

                                                         ( … )

light quivers through the cracks –– through the smile always perched on his lips, meaningless. he embraces the world: atlas, knee-deep in dirt, bound to shackles rooted in tartarus. he bears the weight with joyous laughter, bullet-wound on his throat. unconditional love to all but himself. –––– this is how my salvation will come. –––– he mumbles, wine-drunk, licking aphrodite’s mouth. oracle, foolish in his hopefulness. –––– i will love, love, love, until the point of murder. i will love the unlovable ; and i won’t ask for anything in return. –––– as he kisses madness into a stranger’s lips, as his body becomes a one night miracle for those who need it most. –––– i can give, and give, and give, and you won’t hear my voice begging for anything else. –––– as he lays in a bed that is not his own, as he wraps his tongue against quickened pulse, as he becomes one with a galaxy that had long disowned him. dante holds the unknown in his arms, and promises to adore it ( sweet, inescapable destiny ╱ ouroboros: we therefore commit this body to the ground, earth to earth, ashes to ashes, beast to beast ).

            –––––– 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟                  𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐛. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟,                               𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 . ––––––

                               𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐈𝐈  ：𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

withering hope, abandonment ╱ philautia ╱ unfading love .

there is a limit to what forsaken hands can do. dante has picked stars, reached burning celestial bodies, cut his palms while tending to flowers with more thorns than petals. maybe i will encounter the lacking piece ; maybe there is half a soul to be found. a possibility is all that drives him forward, as skies turn grey and greyer. death is served, and young piece of sunshine ╱ corrupted shard of blood moon refuses to take it. i will keep on living –– i refuse to pass, i will not become more ghost than i already am. he moves around life, life runs right through him –– a sword lodged below his collarbone, forcing him to cough up blood. he is not a memory anyone can have. dante thinks about his absence in a world that already feels much like nothing: everchanging figure with a thousand names, an opaque face, a hidden mouth.

                                                        ( … )

merciless crow weighs heavily on his shoulder –– that, a haunting dante can’t run away from. he pledged the remnants of his tortured soul ; promised to bloom flowers inside of his guts ; swore he would not howl when the thorns slayed him. –––– how do i love without feeling it flow in my body, how do i love without receiving it in my bloodstream?  –––– fallen next to thanatos, locked away in a luxurious bathroom, he wonders and wonders. foolish messenger, victim of hubris ╱ icarus, aware the sun would burn his wings, but taking the leap of faith &  crashing, drowning in saltwater. –––– who am i to challenge the gods? –––– he murmured, anguish sorrow rising and falling in the rhythm of his chest. dante remembers rain falling endlessly –– but, most of all, he remembers silence. –––– oh, dear. i am alone, aren’t i?  –––– he questions a ghost, tears rupturing his flesh. what he tried to hide meets sunlight in its last breaths. miserable boy, crestfallen human –– he discovers himself once he uncovers death. soothsayer full of shame, guts filled with medicine, wrists torn by ache. what prophecy could he utter with such a defiled existence?  no one will come for him, is his last rational thought. no one will remember him. dante: nothing, no one, infinitesimal. –––– all i have tried to give is all i do not have. –––– the veil falls from his face and the earth quiets.

                                                        ( … )

he wakes up, bittersweet taste lingering in his body. my bones have finally shattered, he muses, not entirely awake, i have nothing else to give. his tutor does not spend the night by the side of his hospital bed ( white, everything pearlescent, pristine, sickening ), and dante doesn’t expect his parents to come –– and they don’t. ordinary, meaningless existence. he should have passed to another realm, but he had vowed to keep on living. –––– fate is anything but forgiving. –––– is what he mumbles to a kind nurse: the one individual worried for him, but only because it is her job. he holds her by the wrist one day, mouth opening and then closing. can you stay with me?  can you let me go?  –––– thank you. –––– and there are no other words he is able of uttering throughout his stay. alone, is all he’ll ever be, no pink hues to enlighten his days. he notices his age in a file, wrong by two years, but does not say anything about it. who cares?  who cares but you?  do you at all?  

                                                         ( … )

his scars do not turn into bird wings. what should i fear, if not death, if not desolation?  the torment of being devoured –– no, that is what he loves the most. in one of many nights ( lustful, adoring, fickle ), basile fast asleep by his side, dante’s fingertips caress exposed skin –– brutal tenderness, a blade he could never inflict upon himself. –––– i think i can only ever love whatever part of me when i find it mirrored in you, mon cher. –––– he confesses, obsidian irises shining. to hold on, to make room for fragile things, to fracture in the same crevices, even with leaden bones. –––– dragons and butterflies are one in the same, aren’t they?  –––– dante whispers, cherry lips dragging across basile’s ears as emerald cradles carnelian closer, closer.

          –––––– 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 . ––––––

                       𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐕  ：𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 .

unfortunate attachment ╱ philia ╱ i have lost all .

grief supposedly works like this: denial ; anger ; bargain ; depression ; acceptance. dante has never fell into the latter –– there was not a day he felt his mother’s absence as an axiom. galatea died in his arms, no last breath redemption gifted to her only heir, but her number remains his emergency contact. perhaps–– this is the closest he will get to love: half-ghost, half-illusion ; one he can confess all his sins to ; one that will not reprimand him no more ; one hollow image ╱ sacrilegious saint he can pour his most selfish desires onto. once her body is laid five feet underground, dante kneels. –––– i would have done you a favour, mother, had i died before you.

                                                         ( … )

dante’s dismay is always reminiscent of a forest, petrichor, and a bonfire put out during the night. galatea by his side, barely addressing his existence. miles deep into the woods, birds were singing once he heard mother, titaness, whimper. dante reached for her, cradled her, hugged her –– for the first time, for the first time, for the last time. intact arrows were lodged on her throat, on her chest. what could he do? –––– stay with me, please. –––– dante begged and begged, but galatea’s eyes were no more. trembling hand holding cold fingers, desperate cries as he forced himself to walk, to search for an exit he knew no longer existed. his feet were cursed with blisters once he found a small village, his cheeks marred by dried tears, his arms covered in matriarchal blood. catatonic emptiness –– and each new fracture of his soul was a new explosion, sharp, dangerous, lost. he remained by her side, acute desperation as the reality crashed upon him, a rogue wave. –––– come back to me. –––– as he curled his body next to hers. always freezing, you were always this cold anyway. –––– come back. you have to come back. –––– as he clung to her limbs, as his eyes sunk in sorrow. does this pain have a name?  

                                                        ( … )

poppy’s empty room and the vacant space left by galatea were one in the same. dante lingered around her bed, head throbbing –– grief never leaves, it only evolves into smothering shadow. dante places a small bouquet atop her pillows, mumbles a prayer in a faint voice. –––– i never had much. –––– he whispers, and hopes poppy can hear him, feel him. –––– but i had you. and i will find you, baby girl. i promise i will. –––– there are no smiles to brighten up his complexion, no light shining through his ribs. this night, like many others, is spent entirely on research. who can i reach next?  what can i sell of my soul to have you back?  

                                   –––––– 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 . ––––––

                           𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕  ：𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐍 .

departure, resignation ╱ pragma ╱ all good things come to an end .

spring child, full of heartache. oh, how he wishes he could give it back: so many lives lost as he aimed for a pulse of his own, and dante now chases numbness. bodies become a blur, just in time for him to turn into a ghost. cheap whiskey and smoke mix themselves in his tongue, there are pills dissolving in his mouth, there is a stranger pressing him up against a wall. why is it not enough?  why must i crave what i can never have?  oh, to grow yourself a heart only for a friend to pull it out, for a friend to crush it beneath their feet. foolish boy. you should’ve been grateful for the void i gifted you, is the echo growing inside his brain, his mother’s voice a tortured ghost. to believe one could truly love him –– the most reckless of all behaviours, the pain that could extinguish him into dust. what is heavier than this emptiness?  what is more consuming than this void? –––– she … she told me she was going to find someone else to go home with. –––– hollis’ words can’t be erased from his mind, and dante finally crumbles beneath their weight.

                                                        ( … )

his eyes are swelled up once he reaches london. perhaps, there is a limit –– even for a demon, even for a grotesque creature. perhaps, as he crawls atop galatea’s grave, he meets his end. knife wound, love wound: it bleeds all the same. his body is freezing, even when the night is still –– there is an image replaying in an infinite cycle behind his eyelids, frozen tears clinging to reddened cheeks. –––– was saying ❝ i love you ❞ my undoing?  –––– he murmurs into the night, the claws of a demon resting upon his shoulders, smothering and lukewarm, and shivers caress his spine ( tiny spiders, nails across a chalkboard, vermins crawling through a corpse ). –––– he asked me to find him, and i did. –––– there is no humour in his laughter. such unforgivable stupidity, and he can only punish himself for it. unsheathed talons lacerate his scalp: apathy as a life-threatening poison, as he sinks rotten nails inside of his flesh and hopes to come up with a crown, reborn. there is no rage as perished daisies become his halo, as dead mother becomes dead son, on his knees, forehead to the ground. cold rain soaks up his bones: a preferable fate to succumbing to loneliness –– suffering, but religious ( i am only holy when broken, i can only adore as a morgue does with a corpse ). can rose taste him in basile, he wonders?  is he too fleeting to be felt, even by a tourmaline angel?  –– the one that loves him, loved him, somehow. melinoe whispers in his ear ( mother of madness, but he trusts her –– who else does he have? ) : that was a lie. what does one gain from worshipping you?  –– hell, fervent kisses, languid hands, consuming touch, everything, too much, nothing at all.

                                                        ( … )

jester, conquering his way through pleasing his majesty’s body, filling his bed. oh, to be aware of one’s low worth –– never good enough, even when it came down to being used. tiring illusionist, shuffling the same cards, over and over and over… could he blame anyone for forsaking him?  ares, begging to be forgotten. no more pain, no more. the heavens are deaf, however, and it continues: plague in his bones ; hunger in his chest ; torture in his skull. if he stays down for long enough, perhaps no one will bother to look for him. pitiful dead boy turns blind man, hearing his last heartbeat, moonlight on his tongue, constellations on his lips. what is there to be said at his tombstone?  unknown, unloved, unmissed. this, the only way he’d ever be able to go. you may have broken my heart, but only i hold the power of shattering my own soul. water springs from his eyes: weeping angel, at home in a cemetery. –––– not even your ghost is capable of loving me, mother. and still, you’re all i have. –––– he whispers, restless, plunging prayers down the earth. love me, you should’ve loved me, love me, please.

                 –––––– 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭                                          𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 . ––––––

                            𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈  ：𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 .

you will be my death ╱ eros ╱ poisonous calamity .

eros finds him –– no mercy, no mercy. mercutio picks him up from the ground, dirty and paralyzed, says nothing. dante wakes up in his bed, undressed, filthy, sore. –––– you always come back, don’t you?  –––– the emerald’s voice reverberates in his head, each syllable another nail on his coffin. phobos &  deimos are also children of aphrodite, is what he learns with mercutio –– standing tall, smile of a hunter, canines of a wolf. –––– i am really everything you have, huh? –––– his laughter is haunting, and the desai becomes child, forgotten –– once more, once more. 

–––– i never had you. –––– dante mumbles, looking out the window. the abyss stares back, offers no answers, vanishes. –––– never had anyone at all.

                                                        ( … )

when the morning comes, mercutio presses dante against a wall –– hand around his neck, vicious. dante does not blink as breaths become shallow, as lights seem to fade. –––– i’m not scared of you, fool. –––– melancholy in defiance, tone dripping in dark blue. –––– kill me. I’m all yours. –––– and he smiles only after his feet touch the ground, a slap across his cheek. bitter glory. thanatos is always lingering in his spine, never daring to break him. untouchable, even by death. sobriety in nothingness, in madness: mercutio looks inside his soul, and realizes he is messing with a demon with nothing to lose. –––– you have stepped over my guts and claimed the beast inside of me as yours. you have more reasons to fear me than anyone else, and you better start acting like it. –––– dante bows, and leaves. always an actor leaving a stage –– trickster, villain or tragedy?  he doesn’t know anymore.

                    –––––– 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚) 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐛) 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐜) 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 ?  ––––––

                            𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐕𝐈𝐈 ：𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 .

my regrets follow you to the grave ╱ memento mori ╱ remembered beyond the tomb .

dante comes back at midnight, after four long days. there are finger marks against his trachea, there are new quicksilver lines against his body, there is new darkness pressed underneath his eyes. quiet –– inside his heart, white noise. inside his mind, an ocean in which he’s drowning. for poppy, he muses, for poppy: he must move onward for her, if not for anyone else. he can barely hear his own heart, beating, struggling. just until i find her, and then...

[slashthedice]

Thomas, Billy and Stu, Brahms with an s/o that is a serial killer? They don't know until they catch her in the act?

Sorry, but I don’t write for Brahms. (ﾉ´д｀) I had my roommate choose a third slasher off my list and she chose Freddy, so we’re throwing him in instead.

Thomas

It’s going to take him a while to realize that all the people you’ve killed weren’t all in self-defense or for the good of the family.

He’s not going to be super comfortable with it at first. He always treated killing like a chore, a job he had to perform just like when he worked at the slaughterhouse. He didn’t particularly like it, but he didn’t dislike it either. It was just something he had to do.

He’s not going to stop you, though. The more people you kill means more food for the family, and if one of your victims happens to have a better face than the one he’s got he’ll be happy to find a use for that too.

Billy & Stu

Someone had been poaching kills on their turf, stealing their glory, and they were not happy about it. It had been somewhat amusing to you to watch your boyfriends getting pissy over your activities, completely unaware that it was your doing.

When they find out it’s you who’s been stealing their fifteen minutes of fame, they are completely floored. Who could’ve imagined their sweet little S/O brutally murdering people?

They want to get you in on the act almost immediately. They didn’t think that you’d be able to handle their nightly activities, but now that they know what you’re capable of the idea of a third Ghostface sounds pretty sweet.

Freddy

Your dreams had always been fun. A little darker, a little more twisted than the average person-- it was what drew him to you in the first place.

When he finds out, he’s surprised, sure, but not as much as the others. Some of your dreams were just a little too vivid and accurate, so he had his suspicions. He’s actually kind of into it.

Show up in the dream world fresh from a kill and still covered in blood, he’ll be all over you.