#like she's definitely a villain and needed to lose

[bluespiritshonour]

The Boling Rock has got to be my favourite Maiko epsiode because of several things:

I expected them to pull the plug on Maiko the moment Zuko switched sides. But while he did break up with her there wasn't any animosity.

Now, you might ask why would I expect animosity in this situation?

Because what we get to see of their relationship is at a time when Zuko's struggling with his Identity—so most of it is them not working out.

And now that Zuko is one of the heroes, and Mai one of the villains you'd expect for her to be put in her place. Like it often happens to female villains.

But Zuko only seemed sad at the prospect of leaving her.

I had a feeling that Zuko's feelings for Mai weren't as strong as hers were for him. Until he tells Sokka about her.

It's such a simple thing, he just talks fondly of her. And it does more to show that he genuinely wants to be with her than several episodes before that did.

Then, again, because we're used to tropes, I kept expecting them to have a final fallout. Because something about that break up did not feel very final. Or wasn't disparaging to Mai.

But Boiling Rock keeps rolling and there's no signs of Maiko sinking. If anything they go ahead and pull her betraying everything she's ever known for him.

Zuko shows no signs of ill will towards her. Even when she's on the wrong side of the war. Even when he thinks she's loyal to Azula. Even when he probably can't begin to think about the outcome of the war—and them being able to get together depends on that.

He still can't help but be hopelessly in love with her. (I honestly did not think he loved her back before this episode. It felt like she put his needs first and he liked her because of it).

Compare that to the ease with which he cut ties with Ozai and Azula: he simply couldn't bring himself to approach Mai that way.

I think that's the kind of unconditional love Mai needs. Her parents' love for her was extremely conditional, Zuko's wasn't.

[zoe-oneesama]

Chloe shows us that even if she was expelled from Paris like a villain, her influence remains strong, and people don't care what she did if she promises them a reward. Somehow, they managed to make it so that, even though she wasn't in the city, she was indirectly the driving force behind the whole situation. It's as if the series just needs her to make things happen when they run out of ideas to execute. Unexpected? Not at all. Disappointing? Definitely. Ridiculous? Absolutely.

What is your opinion about this?

I think people (viewers, not in universe) are putting more energy into this than is necessary. Chloe didn't actually do anything in this episode - she hosted an online contest and announced a winner. Those were her two scenes. It was Aurore who took it too far. Using Chloe like this is just a different spin on Aurore losing the Weather Girl contest. To me, this is a totally appropriate and clever use of Chloe.

Now, there IS something to be said about these "community" platforms that the show is introducing. We've seen two thanks to this episode - a "Bee" Community, and a "Ladybug" Community, where accounts choose hero icons to represent themselves when they like a post. The "Bee" is hosted by Chloe while the "Ladybug" host is currently unknown (though we know Marinette is a member).

In the "Bee" community, Aurore's passionate posts about weather phenomenon were basically ignored while she scaled to the Top 10 in mere hours for posting out of context photos and spreading rumors about Adrien and Marinette. But in the "Ladybug" community, the same post that would've been completely ignored immediately got multiple likes, even one from her Idol Claudie Kante.

To me, this makes sense. The "Bee" Community is hosted by Chloe and so attracts people like her, who enjoy gossip blogs over deep dives. Aurore is not exempt from this, she goes as far as copying the No.1 ranked creator instead of creating her own work and starts caring more about popularity than the prize itself. But she's accepted for who she is in the "Ladybug" Community.

Like people attract like minded people. This episode has something to say (though not very loud) about the kind of communities we attach ourselves to online, and how they effect and change us in the real world. It's important to curate your online experience and to be diligent of being too influenced by what we see and interact with online.

In the "Bee" Community, Chloe's Community, Aurore sunk low and became consumed with unimportant things, betraying her friends and caring more about being No.1 than being an authentic or even good person. And her actions got her akumatized. Even though she won the contest, she had nothing to show for it.

In the "Ladybug" Community, Aurore was embraced for being unapologetically herself and confronting her wrongs. And her actions got her recognition from the person she idolized the most.

Chloe didn't have to do anything, the community she curates (and the communities that real world people make) were all that was necessary for this akuma.

[unknown-cold]

Has anyone noticed this too? A girl who lost her mother.

No wonder Caitlyn was so fucking angry at this time, not only was it an attack on the memorial after losing her mother and being kidnapped and tortured etc... but her people died and children lost their mothers, just like this girl. And Cait was definitely feeling her sadness and fear.

This also reminds me of those people who say Caitlyn changed just bc her mother died, or how can she change just bc of one person's death? Well idiots IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!!

Like “Oh but she’s from Piltover, she gets all the luxuries that ppl of Zaun don’t” burying your mam in a nice casket does not make the pain any easier to deal with assholes!! she went through sm and people still overlooked her trauma as if she shouldn't be sad and angry bc she's an enforcer, rich, and an adult. WHAT STUPIDITY IS THIS? Seriously what does all this have to do with the character not being traumatized? These people should study psychology and educate themselves a little.

Like people forget this all happened to her in the span of less than a week. She went from a peaceful, pretty sheltered life to being terrorised by Jinx with almost no reprieve.

Video edited by: @mirellvi on TikTok

These people are asking and others are angry why Caitlyn has changed, this girl has been through hell bc of Jinx.

Jinx didn't show any mercy to Caitlyn. And Caitlyn has every right to hate her!! People who overlook what Jinx has done to her are so annoying. The change that happened to Caitlyn It did not start when her mother was killed.

She is gets more hate than the actual villains, and she did less harm than any other leader of Piltover or Zaun. People who excuse characters like Viktor, Sevika or Silco and even Ambessa, but they draw the line on Caitlyn?? they just wanna hate her tbh. Like they don’t comment on the bad and worst things that (Silco, Viktor, SINGED) did

Silco flooded the lanes with shimmer, pay the enforcers to 💀 zaunites and kid / nap children to work on his shimmer factories, and he was a perpetrator of his people suffering. All this and people are justifying his actions, well what about Caitlyn!?

And now someone will come with their stupid excuse and say “Silco is oppressed and wanted to free Zaun” Well being oppressed does not justify him oppressing his people too. Like where is the independence you guys are talking about, when he hurt his people to obey him, and force children to work in dangerous factories and pay enforcers to kill anyone who opposes him, why didn't he pay enforcers to work with him for benefit Zaun, if he really cared about people in Zaun!? And of course there is no need to talk about Ambessa and Singed, the most evil characters who did selfish things, and Viktor as well. But People Don't Care🙄

(I love Viktor btw) but what he did was so bad and terrible!! way worse than what or any other character.

But again people don't care what bad things Viktor did or would do, is it bc he's from Zaun, or bc he's a man? Anything goes... So I really want to know what's wrong with these people who hate Caitlyn so much.

Like it's okay to not like her and not accept her character, but spreading false information about her like “she gassed all of Zaun or that she does dictatorial things” which is absolutely not true. or worse, insulting and cursing people who love Caitlyn and spreading lies about them like they support corrupt regimes or that they are part of the KKK or that they support police brutality in real life bc they love a fictional character. This is so fucking crazy and I sick of it!! Like what makes these people think that I would be act like a fictional character in real life? They really need therapy.

Like they criticizing her bc they feel morally superior bc she's an enforcer and rich?? This is really so ridiculous.

[miley1442111]

videos and violence- a.hotchner

summary: an unsub capturing you makes for a pretty interesting love confession

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: mention of reader being hurt, violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, regular criminal minds topics (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

not entirely proofread

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You knew you had to take in your surroundings, try to remember what had happened before, think. 

All you knew was that one moment, you were on your way home from work, and the next you had a bruising grip on the back of your head, leading you through the hallways of this dusty, dark, shithole. 

Suddenly, he stopped. He was a man, obviously, 5’7ish, buff build, dark clothing that doesn’t fit him correctly, strong, shoes a size too big, and a balaclava. “Get in there, bitch.” American accent, deep voice, but definitely grew up in Washington. There was a chance you were still in Washington.

He shoved you down the stairs, into a basement. When you came to, your head was bleeding and you’d definitely broken a few ribs. You just hoped that Aaron would find you. You tended to your wound as best you could and allowed yourself to rest, knowing more would be to come. You had to figure out why he wanted you. Was it because he knew you worked for the FBI, or were you just the closest woman to him? 

The ground was cold and hard, but it would do for one night. You hoped this would be one night. You hoped the team could solve it. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Where’s Agent Y/l/n?” Morgan asked, sitting beside Spencer in the briefing room. 

“Late,” Rossi grunted. 

“She’s never late,” Penelope argued. “She’s never been late a day in her life and she didn’t answer any of my phone calls this morning.”

Aaron Hotchner, your secure, steady, collected, and calm boss, began to sweat a little. The same thing had happened to him, you weren’t answering his calls, there was no ‘I got home safe’ text, and you didn’t answer your door when he knocked on it that morning. 

“I’m sure she’s just sick,” Rossi shot back, trying to put Penelope at ease. “She’s a big girl, you don’t need to baby her.” 

Aaron didn’t miss the way Rossi looked at him during that last part. He wasn’t babying you, he’d never do that. He wanted to protect you, keep you safe, make sure he got to see that beautiful smile everyday. 

“We have a case,” Aaron announced. “Right here in Washington.”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

No matter how loud you screamed, he didn’t stop. He kept hitting, and punching, and hurting. By the time you walked back down to your basement, you were exhausted, bruised, and scared. You were slightly losing hope that Aaron and the team were going to find you, because he was ramping up his activity. He was more violent, more attentive to you, watched you more, got closer, stayed closer. And he wasn’t feeding you. He had no intention of keeping you alive. But he was filming you. You’d noticed the hundreds of cameras all over the room, all pointing to you. 

“What do you do for work?” he asked from the darkness of the top of the stairs. 

“Paperwork,” you lied. “FBI paperwork.”

“You work for the Federal Bureau of Investigations?” he asked.

You nodded. “It’s boring.”

“How much do you make?” 

“About 90 grand a year,” you offered. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a baker,” he answered. “I work in the cafe on 14th street.”

“I like that place,” you chuckled painfully. “Makes good bread. My boyfriend loves it.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asked. 

“Yeah, but he’s out of state at the minute. Work stuff,” you lied. “What about you?”

“A girlfriend? No, no,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands together. It’s like he watched a movie to find out how to be a villain, I mean, come on. “No one for me.”

“What’s your boyfriend's name?” he asked. 

Well, now or never. “Aaron Hotch,” you answered calmly. 

“And what is it that you love about Aaron?”

You could feel yourself tearing up, you knew he was about to take you for another torture session, and you didn’t know if it would be your last. There was a slim chance Aaron would see this, if he ever caught the guy. Now or never. “I love Aaron because he makes me feel safe. He smiles at me all the time which is nice because he doesn’t smile often. He knows everything about me, and he’s still here. He’s the sweetest person I’ve ever met, even though he puts on a brave face everyday. He cares deeply about the people around him, and he tries to hide the way he worries about people, but he can’t. He just cares too much. He’s wonderful, if I’m being honest. He always brings me home stuff from your bakery, the one on 14 the street, it’s our favourite date night tradition.” 

“Good, very good. I know exactly who you’re talking about,” he smirked. “I’ll make sure he gets this, and the videos of the torture.”

You grimaced. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“He takes women of all races, hair colours, eye colour, etc. He doesn’t keep them for more than three days, he videos the torture and sends it to us. He’s had three women so far-” Morgan thought out loud. 

“A new video just came in Hotch,” Penelope burst into the room, tears in her eyes. “I-It’s-”

“No!” Morgan and Spencer both jumped up, disbelief coating their features. Aaron stayed still, a wash of rage and terror rolling over him. You’d been gone for two days, they had one more to find you. 

“Give me the laptop, the rest of you don’t need to see this,” he ordered, taking the laptop out of her hands as she ran straight to Morgan for comfort. Rossi stopped him before he left. 

“You sure you want to see this? We all know how you feel about her,” Rossi whispered, silently offering himself to watch the videos. 

“I have to find her,” Aaron whispered, his voice breaking. “I need every angle I can get.”

Rossi nodded, allowing him on his way.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

You’d survived another day, but the broken bones and bruises were starting to ache more and more. He’d gone to work, and you had 8 hours to try and get out, but the cameras. You just hoped he’d gotten cocky and sent it to the FBI before you were dead. It was your only chance. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“We have a lead,” Aaron announced, rushing to put his coat on. “The bakery, on 14th, that’s where he works.”

“Let’s move out people!” Morgan shouting, rallying the cops to follow the team. 

The video of you, broken, bruised, and battered made him feel physically sick. The way you spoke about him made his heart burst, the way you gave him the message gave him hope. He could still find you. 

The car ride felt long, too long; and getting the dick to confess felt too long too. Searching the building felt too long, and getting you into his arms felt too long. 

But when he rounded a corner and went down a set of stairs, there you were. Right in front of him. Lying in a heap on the floor. He rushed to your side. “Please, please,” he begged. “Open your eyes for me baby,” he pleaded as he looked for a pulse, it was faint but there. “Ambulance, now!” he shouted up at the officers who were following him. “Come on, open your eyes for me,” he whispered. 

Somehow his shaking and his words woke you up. You stared at him for a moment, confused and scared, and then it registered. He’d found you. The video had worked. 

“Aaron,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. “You found me.” 

He nodded, a relieved smile on his face. “I’ll always find you,” he promised. “And I’ll never let this happen again.”

“You saw the video?” you asked, pulling yourself into his arms. 

“I saw the video sweetheart,” he nodded. “I know.”

“I love you,” you whispered as he hooked a hand under your legs and another under your back. 

“I love you too, more than anything,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[duvetchico]

level 47 of delusion

summary y/n stays up half the night trying to beat a game with aeri. it gets loud. it gets dumb. it gets suspiciously romantic.

genre fluff / humor / gaming-induced delirium

pairing uchinaga aeri x fem!reader

masterlist.

it was 1:47am.

you blinked at the screen. aeri was next to you, aggressively mashing buttons like her life depended on it.

“BRO,” she yelled, “why is this boss built like a tax fraud criminal?!”

“you’ve been calling every boss that.”

“because they ALL ARE. they’re CHEATING.”

you looked over at her. she had chip crumbs on her hoodie, a death grip on her controller, and that crazy glint in her eye that only showed up when she was on her sixth energy drink.

“aeri, we’ve been trying this level for—”

“don’t say it. if you say how long we’ve been stuck, i will cry.”

you sighed. “fine. but we’re definitely gonna fail again if we don’t—”

“shut up. i’m manifesting.”

you side-eyed her. “by yelling slurs at an animated dragon?”

“yes. it’s a ritual.”

you started laughing but immediately choked when the boss did a surprise attack and wiped your character off the map.

“WTF?!”

aeri paused the game. stared at the screen. and then screamed into a pillow.

you were wheezing.

“this is not funny,” she said, voice muffled.

“it’s a little funny.”

“you dying is my villain origin story.”

you nudged her. “you love me.”

“no i don’t.”

“you do. i can feel it. your aura is blushing.”

“shut up before i throw your controller out the window.”

you stuck your tongue out at her.

she looked at you. like, really looked at you. your messy hair. your tired eyes. the soft smile you always gave her, even when you were losing miserably together.

“…fuck,” she muttered.

“what?”

“nothing.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“i said,” she mumbled, “i like when you play with me.”

you raised a brow. “awww, that’s what all this was about? you’re just in love with me and needed an excuse to spend six hours holding controllers and emotionally bonding?”

aeri groaned and shoved her face into your shoulder.

“this was supposed to be platonic rage gaming,” she muttered. “why are you making it gay.”

“baby girl. it was gay the moment we made our characters matching outfits.”

she snorted. “shut up.”

you leaned against her. “wanna lose one more round before bed?”

“nah. i wanna win one. just one. for my honor.”

“you have none left.”

“okay wow. betrayal.”

you both re-situated. controllers in hand. sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the dark, the only light coming from the TV screen and your shared sense of stupidity.

and when you finally—finally—defeated the boss at 3:12am, aeri screamed so loud the neighbors probably filed noise complaints.

you high-fived. she tackled you into the couch cushions. it was a mess.

but the best kind.

you woke up to the smell of…feet.

your eyes blinked open. couch cushion. weird angle. back pain. aeri’s leg on your face.

“why,” you croaked.

aeri groaned from beneath you. “my bones.”

you shifted slightly and realized your entire body was halfway on top of her. your hoodie had ridden up, her hair was in your mouth, and the controller was digging into your thigh.

“did we fall asleep like this?”

aeri blinked at you. “i don’t even remember falling asleep. last thing i remember was screaming ‘let’s fucking GOOOOO’ and then blacking out.”

you both stared at the ceiling.

silence.

then—

“we’re disgusting,” you said.

“we’re gamers.”

“…same thing.”

aeri stretched a little and yawned so hard she started tearing up. “i think my soul left my body during that boss fight.”

“you called him a bitchass six times.”

“and i was right.”

you turned to look at her. her hair was all over the place, eyes puffy, voice deep and raspy like a teenage boy hitting puberty.

“you look insane,” you said.

she smiled. “you look like shit.”

you grinned. “thanks babe.”

and then she just…wrapped her arm around you again and pulled you in like it was normal. like waking up with you smushed on top of her on the couch was the most natural thing in the world.

“let’s stay here forever,” she whispered.

“you smell like expired doritos.”

“forever.”

and you stayed like that for a while. tangled, gross, sore, happy. sleep-deprived but victorious.

you’d beaten the boss.

you’d ruined your sleep schedules.

you were in love.

what a fucking win.

[lych33dragoncookie]

Only the masterpieces that survive the fiercest flames earn their place in history.

(Analysis post)

Alright, they absolutely cooked this update. Like, undeniably so. I was admittedly not that huge of a fan of the last 2 beast yeast chapters we got; they had really good ideas, and Mystic Flour is a wonderful character, but... Dark Cacao hasn't really been done enough with for it to feel like it had the amount of weight it could have, and it really doesn't feel like much about him actually changed at all. Combine that with a complete lack of interesting dynamics and you have a lot of very good and genuinely pretty well thought out story concepts with extensive cultural research, executed in a way that feels more like a traditional old-school story that weakens the attachment the audience feels to the components of said story.

Here, though? I have no complaints so far. It was absolutely wild in fact, to the point where I don't think it's gonna happen again (nor am I entirely sure it should ever happen again). This was back to back, non-stop, smack to the face one after the other. The moment the first point of conflict came up, it was just shit happening left and right; even in the mandatory moment of rest where we chill out for a bit, it's revealed that hey, these sandstorms? Yeah the sand is actually ashes. It's the remains of all the people that live here. Whether they died off on their own or were killed by someone else.

And if that wasn't enough, very shortly after;

... It's fucking crack.

So, people die and kill each other here very frequently, and not only are their remains visibly on display, their ashes also become sandstorms that make it near impossible to navigate the land; on top of being something that people snort like cocaine to become more energetic and aggressive.

We started fucking wild, dude. This whole thing is pulling no punches.

Though, I do wanna note; I really, really enjoyed the interactions between Smoked Cheese and Golden Cheese. It shows not only how forgiving she is, but how these two have known each other for an incredibly long time, and know each other well. They're incredibly comfortable around each other, despite it all, and despite how brazen and Very Much Not Strategic the queen here can be. I really, really enjoyed them.

Always fun to see a recovering villain do things for good, but in their own unique way that's still not exactly heroic but definitely effective and, at times, very gratifying.

Though I enjoyed all this, there's one thing I wanna talk about above all else.

The star of the show. Note that every single part was enjoyable, of course, and he wouldn't be half as interesting without Golden Cheese Cookie to serve as a parallel, but they've cooked up something special here.

So far, Burning Spice's extent of onscreen appearance is very, very short, but... I don't think I need to tell you that he's already made an impact and a half.

Christ, that's violent. With the sound effects and everything too, god damn. But, I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a pretty superficial source of judgement for this character. It's very very telling of what kind of person he is now, what he's all about, what he's willing to do, what he likes doing, but...

More than anyone else in recent memory, the devil is in the details. So let's look at those details.

Nothing too much so far, other than how much he absolutely loves destruction, but there's already a trend; namely on "Nothing lasts forever. It's as simple as that", "In the end, everything becomes dust.", and "You, too, shall see that destruction is the only way.". There seems to be an infatuation with the natural process of everything fading away, turning to dust and dying out. An entirely honest one, believing that there is just about nothing else to life. These will be important to keep in mind.

Here, we see a bit of his current relationship with his own immortality. He doesn't seem to mind the idea of losing it, finding something that may eventually take him down, but he still takes great pride in it. These lines, in text, seem somewhat miserable (and trust me, they definitely are), but the voicework in just about every language conveys that they are said in a more neutral, even potentially proudly manner. Again, not much on their own, but...

Here's where we get into the fun part.

This. This is the crux of their character. At the start, him and Golden Cheese cookie were more or less the same. Benevolent royalty, close and personal with their subjects. Beloved, and loving.

And then, they lost it all.

One way or another, their kingdoms were lost, reduced to almost nothing. They were overcome by grief, desperate, unable to cope with their loss. One tried to latch on as hard as possible. Preserve what she could, blindly, replacing the harsh truth of reality with an idealized, constructed world, where no one would ever have to know pain ever again. She shut herself off, and retreated in the safety and peace of a false reality. She would rather have lied to both herself and all her subjects than face reality. And eventually, she had to learn to move on. Let herself and her kingdom heal more naturally, facing reality. The other, meanwhile, was desperate to let go. He detached himself, trying to move past the pain of loss. But, of course, he couldn't force it to happen. No one can. And so with the grief of losing that which he held dear, continuing to be faced with the reality that nothing is forever, over and over, while he endured, the world slowly turning to ash around them again and again... It's no wonder something in there eventually cracked.

What will it take to destroy me. Nothing is forever, and yet, I am.

Nothing is forever. And yet, I am.

With time, misery turned to mania, and in an attempt to overcome their grief, they embraced it, in the worst way possible. A coping mechanism gone horrendously wrong. That destruction, that loss, the inevitability of death... It's not painful, no. It doesn't have to be. It can be thrilling. Exhilarating. A new reason to live. If all you care about turns to dust anyways, if that's really the only logical destination... Why not have some fun with it? Why not embody that inevitable, unstoppable force? Why not become what you fear, so you no longer have to be afraid anymore?

... You know, at least that's what I think is going on here. The next chapter could contradict this reading, but... From what all we have right now, it seems like Golden Cheese and Burning Spice are two completely different paths for the exact same type of pain. They are, in a way, the same, but diverge in almost complete opposite ways where it counts.

Spice is genuinely equal parts absolutely terrifying and absolutely miserable; a balance that is incredibly hard to strike in writing, but always absolutely fascinating and wonderful to observe when it happens. I have to say, the more I found out about them, the more I couldn't keep my eyes off everything they have going on.

I'm loving every little bit of this update. Mad props to the devs for cooking something up here that I am genuinely incredibly invested in, almost to the same degree as White Lily and Dark Enchantress. Banger update. Absolute S tier material.

TL;DR: Burning Spice is terrifying, miserable, and ridiculously cool. Everything about this update was an absolute merciless flurry of consecutive gut-punches. And I loved every second of it.

... Now we sit and wait for Shadow Milk's release next year.

[bugslaststraw]

See it's funny because in the games, and in any other assorted media before the movies came out, everyone low-key just hates Robotnik. And not even in the fun dedicated way like they all seem to think he's a bit of a failure. Which sounds weird if you don't know anything about Sonic (and certainly sounded weird to me three weeks ago when I was one of those people) but it really is just genuinely the case. I think?

Obviously his family all hate him. Movie-only fans will have an idea about this one; we've got good old Geralt Robotnik who didn't give a rats ass about him in favour of his long-dead cousin Maria, whom he wants revenge for. Geralt manipulated him and used him and said "oh Ivo you're no Maria" even though Ivo probably doesn't even know who the fuck Maria is in the movie universe and so on, et cetera. Geralt sucks just as much in the games and did approximately the same thing there.

What you may or may not know is that in one of the games, Eggman runs into a descendant of his from generations into the future. That guy's name is Eggman Nega, and he absolutely hates his ancestor. He thinks he's cramping his style? He's trying to go back in time and kill him to restore his reputation as far as I remember. Not to mention he has other family and cousins, none of whom give a flying fuck what happens to him. I distinctly remember someone who's name was Collin but who's nickname was Snively and who also worked with Eggman at some point, but hated him, and then later betrayed him. I can't remember a single family member of Eggman's that actually seemed to like or even tolerate him.

He's had a lot of henchpeople too. Most of them were robots. A lot of them, like Omega, and Gamma, and Sage to an extent (although she was more like a robot daughter he built for himself) betrayed him and joined the good guys too (Sage is another outlier, she isn't exactly switching over I mean she definitely likes him but she definitely isn't loyal either so.??) I mean, Eggman isn't even surprised by the fourth time. Smaller minions like Orbot (and Cubot? another outlier) and their predecessors weren't able to betray Eggman, but definitely would've if they could've because they all disliked him because he's allegedly a shit boss. (Who says he isn't. He's evil after all.)

He "contracts" a lot of spies and stuff too. Animal characters. They all hate him as well, but he tends to hate them in return, so at least those are entirely fair game.

Not to mention all the villains he's conveniently happened to need the same thing as at the start of the game, but become inconvenient to towards the end, so they betray him as quickly as possible to get ready for their final boss fight with Sonic towards the conclusion of the story. There's more of those than I can count or care to remember. He meets his alternative universe self once and they hate each other. There's even a moment in I think the comics where Eggman loses all his memories and temporarily becomes nice, and hangs out in a village and builds things for the furry people who live there. He makes a wooden puppet style robot that also becomes like a daughter to him. She's good at engineering, just like him. Of course when he gets his memories back and becomes evil again she leaves as quickly as possible and later helps Sonic & co. She's very resentful about it all, I've heard.

None of that is surprising, of course. Eggman is an evil villain to the heroes and a loser to the villains. It's funny! It's a joke. They need to introduce scarier villains in the games to ramp up tension but they can't exactly just drop Sonic's nemesis down a hole somewhere, being as iconic as he is... So he sticks around. But as a joke, rather than an actual threat. And it's a little sad, yeah. But he deserves it! He's trying to create some sort of totalitarian egg-state and he bullies Sonic for having friends, for Christ's sake. Why should anyone want to stay loyal to a guy like that- and why should anyone do it at all? Joining the heroes is the cool thing to do! Shadow does it, Knuckles does it, Omega kinda sorta does it, Sage is toeing the damn line from what I've heard, it's...

Okay, it's kind of a lot? I mean I understand having nobody that's a good guy like the villain, but like... Not even his damn henchpeople robots? In a lot of the animated shows and comics he keeps building robot wives for himself that are explicitly created just to like him, by him. That or he's into someone who's into one of the animals, or similar. I mean, it's that bad. And it's like... Nobody? Not even once in like thirty years did anyone come up with the idea to give Eggman?? This behemoth among famous pop culture characters? A loyal henchman?

And- well, okay, nowadays this isn't true anymore. I'm sure we all know why. And that's kind of fun; in 2020, Doctor Robotnik gained his first and only loyal henchperson. Great! But...

Jeff Fowler is a Sonic fan, isn't he. Would he know..?

Would anyone involved in making the movies know that Eggman famously... Doesn't have any friends? That nobody seems to like him? That he's apparently infinitely betrayable? Do they know? Do they know? Is that why the third movie is written like that? Is it not just a character complex pulled out of someone's- I mean, when movie Eggman says that there's only ever been one person who actually liked him and one person who actually cared about him... He's quite literally right, isn't he. As in... Since 1991... Like 34 years since conception as a handful of red pixels in the hottest new platformer game there's actually, literally only been one character..? ooh I think I need to lie down for a bit

[akumuusu]

The mischaracterization of Homura Akemi is something that needs to be studied

1)

Wrong, she isn’t a yandere, at least by textbook definition.

Reason one: Homura is incapable of killing Madoka’s friends, even if she wanted to

In the fight with Mami during the movie Rebellion, she is shown attempting to shoot her in the chest at the end of their fight. Despite this, Homura can’t bring herself to, instead opting to shoot her in the calf.

Another one is that despite how much she dislikes Sayaka she does not harm her life, she torments her, yes, but never even tries to physically harm or wound her, even after becoming a demon. The only one she has ever killed is Kyubey

Two. Homura is shown to care about others than Madoka

Time and time again, we are proven that Homura loves her teammates

While fighting Mami during Rebellion, she talks about how painful it always was to tell her the truth, to see her lose herself in depression after figuring out Kyubey’s deception

Homura is visibly shaken and upset when Kyoko sacrifices herself.

It is show that seeing the others die upsets her on multiple occasions, especially in the earlier timelines.

Its mentioned as well that Homura tried to save everyone, but eventually gave up after realizing it was impossible.

2)

For this, I specifically will be referring to the ‘desiring Madoka all to herself’

In Homura’s Labyrinth, not only Madoka was there, but so were Sayaka, Kyoko, Mami and even Nagisa. If Homura only wanted to be with Madoka and only have her to herself, then why would her ideal world have the others?

Homura doesn’t want a world where she has Madoka all to herself, Homura wants a world where all of them can be happy, fighting side by side while going to school and hanging out like normal teenagers, even if she has to be a villain to make it happen. Homura says herself that what she truly desires is a world where Madoka can be happy, and that is what she fights for.

Madoka Magica is not a story about a girl who wants someone all to herself, Madoka Magica is a story about hope, that no matter where you are there is always someone fighting for you, there is always someone who loves you. And that is said in the final credits, which is enough proof

That is not me saying that Homura is a complete saint or anything, but that is me saying that Homura is in no way as bad a person as people make her out to be, and that she is an unwell child that has been in an awful situation for anyone to be in.

Edit: I’ve been corrected that Homura did try to kill Sayaka, I honestly don’t know how I forgot about that but I apologize nonetheless!

[akikohanasaki]

Eltingville club as yandere towards a new member

Josh – The Aggressive Golden Boy

Josh was never chill. Let’s be real. He's loud, arrogant, competitive—and when he doesn't win, he explodes.

The second you join the club and he realizes you’re clever, passionate, and stunningly unpredictable, it hits him like a truck. You’re everything he’s not used to—but suddenly needs.

He becomes possessive instantly.

Laughing at someone else’s joke? He’ll interrupt.

Sitting near Pete? He’ll scoff, mock Pete to his face.

“Careful, he might talk you to death with one of his rulebooks.”

Says it like a joke. Doesn’t laugh.

And when he realizes the others like you too?

Rage. Pure, primal, rage.

He slams fists on tables, starts muttering under his breath during meetings. He becomes paranoid. If you’re not talking to him, he assumes it’s because someone turned you against him.

He throws insults to mask his jealousy.

“Don’t let Jerry talk you into one of his stupid fanfics. Guy thinks he’s some tortured poet when he’s just sad and greasy.”

He needs to be the one you choose.

Because if he’s not, then he’s a loser—and Josh can’t handle losing. Not even emotionally. Definitely not romantically.

He starts plotting ways to "win" you.

You’re a prize to him.

But one he’s starting to think he’d rather burn everything down for than see in anyone else’s arms.

---

Pete – The Controlling Tyrant

Pete’s not smooth. He’s tactical.

Everything you do, everything you say—it gets stored. Not in a sweet “he remembers my favorite flower” way. No. In a “he could write a CIA dossier on your habits” kind of way.

He sees you as a system to control, a variable to manage.

He starts finding ways to isolate you—“casual” hangouts where no one else is invited.

“Josh is a brute. Jerry’s unstable. Bill’s a sociopath. I’m the only one who’s consistent. Logical. I could actually be good for you.”

He talks down about the others constantly, slipping it into conversation like poison.

He tries to “fix” you when you’re feeling chaotic.

“You wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed if you’d let someone help you. Me, specifically.”

He becomes calculating, coldly manipulative—but panics when you’re not reacting the way he expected.

He tries to emotionally gaslight you.

“I’m just trying to protect you from people who’ll use you.”

He’ll never admit he’s in love.

But he acts like you’re already his.

Like your independence is a flaw.

Like letting anyone else get close to you is a betrayal.

And when you smile at Jerry?

When you laugh at Bill’s joke?

He clenches his teeth so hard his gums bleed.

---

Jerry – The Self-Pitying Obsessive

Jerry isn’t innocent. He’s just soaked in self-hatred and idealization.

He turns you into a fantasy. The girl who “gets” him. The only person who’s ever looked at him without mocking him.

He starts writing entire zines about you. He draws you over and over again in sketchbooks he hides under his bed.

He says nothing to you at first, just stares with puppy eyes. But it builds.

You’re too perfect.

And when he sees you joke around with Josh or sit close to Pete?

It breaks him.

He spirals into crying fits, punching walls, then writing twisted poems in his notebook:

“She wore metal like armor, but she’ll never be mine. Her light is wasted on monsters.”

He becomes self-loathing and manipulative in his own way. He tells you how lonely he is. How no one understands him but you. How he thinks about you when things get “too dark.”

And when you gently try to set a boundary? He makes you feel like the villain.

“Of course. Why would anyone want me.”

You didn’t reject him yet.

But the idea of it?

It makes his hands shake with quiet, repressed fury.

And he starts thinking… if you won’t love him…

maybe he’ll write a version of you who does.

---

Bill – The Cold-Blooded Control Freak

Bill is the scariest.

Because he never raises his voice.

He never lashes out.

He just… acts.

He becomes the puppet master behind the scenes. The moment he sees the others falling for you, he makes mental notes of every weak spot.

He starts monitoring your conversations. He listens without being seen. He memorizes your routes, your routine.

He has plans.

He starts subtly feeding lies.

He tells Pete you think he’s too overbearing.

Tells Jerry that you and Josh laughed at his comic behind his back.

Tells Josh that you said he was “aggressive and weird.”

None of it’s true.

But it works.

He isolates you—without you even realizing it.

Then steps in like the “only one you can trust.”

“They’re using you. You know that, right? You’re better than this club. Better than them.”

He never says he loves you.

He says you’re a project worth protecting.

You’re interesting. Different.

And no one else deserves you.

He watches the club begin to rot from the inside, smirking behind his glasses.

Let them burn each other to the ground.

He’ll collect the ashes—and build something just for you and him.

---

Oof- I did it. Kinda took me a while but it was fun writing them. Hope you liked it (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[uiharu-and-company]

Kara may be descended from a race of technologically advanced hyper intelligent aliens, but sometimes humans still confuse her. They speak strangely and often don’t mean what they say or say what they don’t mean. Even after all these years on Earth she discovers that the English language is full of surprises.

For example, when she was only sixteen years of age and slowly settling into life with Danvers family. One day Eliza had offhandedly said, “Once in a blue moon.” When referring to taking a vacation. Kara, young and excitable, hurriedly asked when the next blue moon was. Only to be met with utter disappointment when her adopted mother kindly explained that no, the moon on earth does not turn blue and they didn’t currently have any vacation plans for the summer.

Then there was that time in college when Kara had been calling Alex to ask about how medical school was going.

“Well it’s definitely worth it Kara, even if it costs an arm and a leg.” Alex had chuckled over the phone.

A horrified Kara gasped, “You lost your WHAT!?”

That one had taken a lot of explaining. With Kara going so far as to fly across the country to Alex’s apartment to confirm that she did indeed still possess both arms and both legs.

And of course who could forget the time when Cat Grant had told someone to “Hold your horses, Mister.” Only for Kara to rush in and excitedly inquire about who had horses and if she could pet them. Ms. Grant teased her about that one for weeks.

Or when the baker had told her that pastries were a dime a dozen. Kara proceeded to grab a dozen croissants and leave a dime on the counter. That time was particularly embarrassing. Especially when they chased after her and accused her of shoplifting… She did end up paying them the correct amount and happily took her croissants home.

What about when Winn had said she needed some time to “get it out of your system” when referencing her anger at Snapper. That had led to a panicked Supergirl nearly crashing into the DEO med bay looking for Alex. Who exasperatedly explained how Kara was perfectly healthy and that it was “Just an expression, Kara.”

But even with all the humans she had talked to over the years, no single human ever confounded her as much as Lena Luthor. Alex called it flirting, Winn called it gross, and Brainy called it “extremely long and ridiculous human mating rituals.”

Lena would say things that Kara would puzzle over for days. Especially that incident after defeating the villain of the week where Lena had exclaimed, “You’re a genius, I could kiss you, Kara!”

Kara tried not to think about it, she really did. But the more she tried not to, the more she would lay in bed thinking about it. She thought about Lena, about her strange words, about those beautiful lips that looked so soft and so- nope. Not thinking about it.

Which brings Kara to her current debacle.

It had been a long tortuous week for Supergirl as well as Kara Danvers. Rogue alien after rogue alien followed right behind by a massive workload of assignments she had no interest in. Worst of all, she hadn’t found any time to see Lena that week. Not that it mattered that much- they were friends. It was perfectly normal for friends to go a week without seeing each other. It was fine, Kara was fine.

So here she was, hovering like a creep over Lena’s penthouse and listening to her soft snores and rhythmic heartbeat with her powers. Friends did that, right? They snuck out at night to listen to their friend sleep because they were scared they’d lose them if they didn’t confirm at that exact moment that they were still alive, right? Well, okay, friends didn’t do that, but Kara did and Kara was Lena’s friend.

Kara didn’t know how long she hovered over the city listening to Lena that night.

—————————

Idk where I’m going with this. Should I finish?

[randomshyperson]

Heal - Scarlet!Wanda x Vampire!Reader - Kinktober #08

Summary: By freeing an imprisoned immortal from the Darkhold Castle, the Scarlet Witch did not expect to gain a friend who would help her heal the woman she tried to bury in the temple's wreckage. In return, Wanda might help you face the demons from your past that were locked away with you.

Warnings: (+18), service!top reader, praising, intimate smut, blood-feeding, vampire and witchcraft lore, and a lot of plot, implied depression and self-harming tendencies, really soft smut with explicit consent, mutual pining, friends to lovers | Words: 9.671k

A/N-> My only vampire reference is TVD, so expect many similarities to the show’s lore. And I repeat again that there is a sinful lack of stories that deal with the status of wizarding royalty of which Wanda is part. Please, she literally has the title of Queen of Chaos, her family has inherited the magic of chaos for generations, we need to talk about this. I hope you guys like this one, this story ended up having more depth than I expected and it was quite fun to write it.

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

After destroying a thousand-year-old castle and not getting out of the impact zone, Wanda definitely didn't expect comfort. In addition to the pain of recent events, from realizing that she had finally become a villain, and was closer to the people who had destroyed her life than to the friends she once lost, she also had to see the clear fear in the alternative versions of the children she missed. So she put an end to it all, more tired than anything, and waited for the pain to go away. The blackout from the impact put an end to it, of course, and just like years before when she turned to dust after losing the only person she still had left, she breathed a sigh of relief into the darkness.

But Wanda woke up. And to her complete surprise, comfort came in the softest sheets she had ever felt, perhaps even more comforting than the expensive cloth Tony Stark had once bought for the rooms in Avengers Tower. The bed she was lying on could easily have been mistaken for royalty, and Wanda barely had time to become alert before a slightly unfamiliar face entered her field of vision.

"You." She gasped in surprise, her voice a little hoarse. Now conscious, she was aware of the pain around her body, but she could also feel her magic doing the hard work and taking the sensation away. You smiled gently and, without leaving your sitting position on her bed, waited for her to adjust to the mattress. Wanda frowned. "But why?"

You sighed, shrugging slightly. Now sitting up, Wanda realized that your lap wasn't empty. A breakfast tray was waiting for her as if you were aware that she would wake up soon and had brought the food just in time. The item was leisurely placed next to her, but Wanda continued to look at you, waiting for an explanation as to why someone who had disappeared almost the second after the first meet, reappeared to save her from the wreckage of her mistakes.

"I know you're confused, but please eat. You've slept for days, miss." It's your comment, but the witch shakes her head.

"Don't worry about it. It's... nowhere near the longest I've gone without food." The quiet confession about the period of darkhold abuse makes you sigh sadly, and Wanda feels a curiosity rise in her chest. You don't know her, so why do you care? 

Your hands move to the toast you've prepared for her, and Wanda bites the inside of her cheek as she finally notices the tray with your movements. Your breakfast choices are just right - delicious foods stare back at her. And you busy yourself with adding some jam to the toast that makes Wanda's mouth water.

"Forgive me for taking so long to find you, I was a bit overwhelmed upon returning after so long." You then declare, handing back the now-filled toast to one of the smaller plates. You push the item towards her as an invitation, but Wanda glares at you.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

Your eyes are kind in her direction. "I owe you my freedom."

Wanda chuckles short and incredulously. "Don't be ridiculous, I didn't even know what I was doing." She retorts immediately. "I saved you by accident, you don't owe me anything."

But you gesture to the food, and Wanda sighs in defeat, finally giving in. At the first bite, she feels the delicious jam on her tongue and sighs in satisfaction. It's amazing, she lets you know. You smile.

"It doesn't matter if our meeting was accidental, Wanda Maximoff." You state. "Your magic broke me out of my prison. If the idea of a debt doesn't please you, we can act as if upon rescuing you, I made us even."

Wanda hums with her mouth full, slightly distracted by the food. You look away, waiting for a moment, and she finishes chewing before speaking again.

"I didn't want to be rescued."

"I know."

She looks at you again, but you continue to stare straight ahead into the room. "Do you?"

You smile briefly. "Nobody who wants to live knocks down a castle on their head, miss."

The chuckle that escapes her is short, but it's the first sincere one in a long time. It's so dark, to joke about something so serious, yet she feels completely at ease doing it with you.

Wanda finishes another piece of toast before speaking again. "Do you remember the sorcerer who was with me before, when I freed you?" You meet her gaze, nodding in agreement. Wanda looks at you curiously. "He nearly shit his pants when he saw you running away from the temple. He tried to lecture me about it, and I dragged him out of there for it. But the point is... what did you do? He only told me your name. What was so terrible that your escape scared him so much?"

You sigh, getting up. Wanda imagines that she has offended you by asking and that you will leave without telling her the whole truth, and considers spying on your mind to find that out, but you just walk to the nearest drawers on the other side of the bedroom. When you return with an object in hand, Wanda wipes away the toast crumbs before accepting the item you hand her.

The old photograph makes her eyes widen. "Holy shit." She sighs impressed, getting a short laugh out of you.  Your picture wasn't a surprise, but the date from over three hundred years ago faded by the bottom. Wanda flipped the item to see the back, but your name there didn’t really explain how you were standing in front of her, as if no time had passed.

"Humans call us Vampires, but I've always liked the sound of Immortal better. Of course, the term vampire beats being called a demon or a bloodsucker." Wanda doesn't laugh at the joke, as she raises wide eyes in surprise at you. She continues to hold up the photograph, and you swallow. "I promise I won't try to harm you." Finally, she chuckles softly. You sigh in reassurance, even though the witch has just mocked your strength.

"I can't believe vampires exist." 

"Said the witch who traveled through the multiverse a few days ago." Wanda smiles, handing the photograph back to you. 

"Fair point." She murmurs. Restless, you wonder what you can do to improve her mood. She seems so sad.

Perhaps your stories could distract her. 

"I was imprisoned in Darkhold Castle a few centuries ago." You tell her, attracting her curiosity again. Your hands go into your pockets so that you can regain some ground over the full attention of such beautiful and mesmerizing irises. "There are other mystical authorities, apart from Kamar-Taj and its mages. In particular, a council of vampires. I disagreed with some traditions and was sentenced to imprisonment, but my capture was not quiet. Let's just say I earned that tomb you rescued me from, Miss." Wanda nodded in understanding, offering a small smile that ensured she wasn't judging you. It would be comical to do so, after everything that had led up to this moment. Adding to the count of her own crimes, she apparently unleashed an immortal mass murderer.

Wanda looks around, sighing softly. "I presume this place is yours."

You nod but look away from her. "Many of my properties were lost with my imprisonment. Taken back by the Council, or even stolen by other creatures. I'll deal with these usurpers later." The comment made Wanda bite the corner of her mouth. She'd never seen a vampire fight, and you seemed so sure of your own strength over anyone who stood up to you. It was attractive somehow. She pushed the thought away faster than it came. "Of course, you're welcome to stay as long as you need, even if I'm not around."

The statement makes Wanda chuckle in surprise, her cheeks slightly warm. "What? I can’t accept that. I will certainly not abuse hospitality-"

"Don't be ridiculous." You repeat her previous words with an easy smile, and the casual comment sounds different from your formal attitude so far that It's so charming that Wanda has to look away awkwardly, surprised by her own perceptions. "It's a pleasure to have you as a guest. And honestly, it's nice to have someone around after so long." The sincere confession makes her smile. Wanda understood loneliness well. You sigh. "There's enough room in this house. You can stay as long as you need."

Wanda nods. "How exactly did you get me here? And where is here exactly?"

"Northern Europe, but I'm not sure if the country's name remained the same as it was three centuries ago. And I didn't want to carry you so far from the castle, and I figured you didn't intend to return to Nepal and their Kamar Taj’s mages as well."

Wanda grimaces. "What do you mean with ‘carry me’?"

You chuckle slightly. "You were unconscious, Miss Maximoff. And buried under rubble when I found you. We don't have the same magical abilities,  so I can’t use the power of the mind to move objects or people. I picked you up, and brought you with me."

She needs to see this, and the invasion in your mind caught you off guard. Flashes of memories turn clear in your head, your figure pushing rocks out of the way until you find Wanda unconscious. You actually picked her up in your arms and started moving. At some point, you found a car, but good kilometers on the ice at high speed were walked.

Wanda leaves your mind with a sigh, and for the first time, you look upset.

"Please ask next time."

She's still coming to terms with the fact that you ran through the snow with her in your arms to apologize. "You walked half a continent for me?"

You shrug. "I ran, to be fair. Don't worry about that, it wasn't any trouble. My kind has enough strength and speed for a journey like that."

But the ease didn't detract from the significance of the attitude. Wanda could hardly remember the last time anyone had done anything for her - not even Vision, who was her partner, seemed to share any guilt when signing accords that wanted her in jail; And now a stranger was rescuing her at the end of the world just to bring her to safety, without expecting anything in return.

Her silence makes you clear your throat. "I'll give you some privacy. There's more food if you want it, and this is a suite, so the toilet is through that door. I've also taken the liberty of ordering clothes in your size while you’ve been asleep, they're all in the closet. The whole property can be explored, please feel free to do so. There’s a library and art rooms. And please, if you decide to leave, say farewell first."

Wanda smiles tenderly at your request, and you turn away. She finally realizes that you look very tidy, and calls out to you before you can leave the room.

"Are you going out?"

"Just for a few hours." You answer, frowning at the way her expression falls. "Is something wrong?"

Wanda sighs. "I just… don’t wanna be alone."

Despite the sympathy in your eyes, you hesitate. A hand on the doorframe. "Forgive me, miss, I promise I won't be long and that we can spend the rest of the day together." 

Wanda waves your concern away, starting to stand up. "Relax, I'll be fine, I wouldn't want to get in the way of your appointments. I'll explore the house while you're gone."

But despite her casual attitude, you call out to her with a certain seriousness that makes Wanda look at you again. There's something in your expression that makes it clear that you didn't buy Wanda's act at all, and that you can clearly see that she was being serious about her loneliness. Your eyes had a guilty aspect because you couldn't stay. 

You sigh, looking away as you explain: "I must feed myself, Miss Maximoff. Please don't think I'm avoiding your company."

She is slightly surprised by the confession and doesn't know exactly what to say about it. She decides to just nod, without the courage to question you further on the subject even though she's dying to know exactly in which way you're going to feed yourself.

And when you leave her alone, and she wanders around the huge rooms of that mansion, she can't help wondering where you are, if it's like in vampire stories, and you're in some alley cornering an unwary human, or if hunting animals is enough. She becomes so absorbed in her own doubts that when you return, she hasn't even finished seeing the whole place.

"Having fun?" Your question startles her slightly. She smiles, turning her attention away from the art paintings in the room and meeting your gaze again.

"You move silently."

"A talent we share."

Wanda chuckles and waits for you to approach her completely. Side by side, she is the first to speak.

"Everything here is very beautiful." She says softly. "And I may not be centuries old, but I'm no fool. It sounds too good to be true. Be honest, Y/N. What do you hope to get from me?"

You frown, taking one hand out of your pocket to gesture a little. "You have a suspicious nature, Miss Maximoff."

She snorts softly." Y/N..."

But you smile, and Wanda gasps softly because your hand moves to her face, a gentle touch to move a strand of hair out of the way of her eyes. "Not everyone wants to take something from you, Miss. Some people just want to give." Wanda ignores the intensity of your gaze, the quickening of her heartbeat, and raises her hand to grab your wrist and interrupt your intention to stroke her cheek straight away. Her eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion in your direction, although your smile never falters. "I could just force you to talk."

"There's no need for that, we can talk over dinner."

She hesitates, aware of the heat on her cheeks. You seem to have a personal victory and Wanda lets go of your hand immediately. 

"Wipe that smile off your face, it's not... that kind of dinner. We don't even know each other." She mutters embarrassedly. You return to your previous position, relaxed with your hands in the pockets of your dress pants and Wanda crosses her arms annoyed at the way her stupid brain keeps finding you more attractive every time she looks at you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, miss." You retort humorously. "It's a strictly professional dinner."

She rolls her eyes, turning away to hide her smile from you.

"Just introduce me to the rest of the house."

"It's funny, all witches are always bossy." You comment, letting her gently pat your shoulder even though you could easily escape the gesture if you wanted to.

-&-

"I didn't know vampires cooked."

You chuckle, without taking your eyes off the knife cutting the vegetables. "Have you met many vampires?"

Wanda bites back a smile, rolling her eyes softly. "No, you're the first." She says, watching from the counter stool as you masterfully prepare dinner. "But I thought you guys didn't need to eat."

"We don't, not food at least." You retort gently, even though the implication makes Wanda's eyes sparkle with curiosity. You, despite being busy preparing the meal, notice the slight excitement and give a soft laugh. "If wished, my body can imitate all the biological functions it had before I died. This includes food." To illustrate, you take one of the cut pieces of carrot into your mouth, chewing and swallowing as you finish chopping the vegetables. Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, gathering the courage to ask you what she wishes to know.

When you pour the cut vegetables into a pot, she clears her throat. "Would it be insensitive if I asked how it happened?"

"Very." You smile back. Wanda sighs slightly, feeling like a little child trying to be liked. 

Please, please, notice me and talk to me.

The fire is lit, you wash off the excess vegetable stock and wipe your hands on a tea towel. You speak again.

"It's 2024, which means that in the winter it will be 320 years since my transformation." You begin a little nostalgically, your hands resting on the counter behind you. "Twenty was the age at which I died."

Wanda frowns. "You were so young."

"Yes, I was." You agree with a sad smile. "I used to work here, right in this mansion." Wanda adjusts herself, curiosity taking over completely. "I was raised by this family all my life, and when I fell ill, they decided there was no longer any place for me here."

The witch swallows dryly but doesn't interrupt your story. You look down, bringing your hands in front of your stomach to turn the larger ring you're wearing between your fingers.

"Sick servants would be sent away, so as not to spread the disease to the rest of the house. I died on the road."

Wanda frowns slightly. "Who bit you?"

"Bit me?" You retort in confusion. 

She chuckles awkwardly. "Yes, that's how it works, isn't it? Vampires bite humans and turn them."

It's your turn to laugh, a little impressed. "What? No, by the gods! Imagine how many of us there would be out there if every time a vampire fed, he turned someone? No, no, it's a bit more complicated." You comment casually. "You see, there's an immortality spell, created by the same author of the book that was with you when we met. Original vampires are made by ancient magic, and these can have bloodlines. Weaker vampires are transformed by their blood. And others can be created, even weaker by their descendants. The trick is to die with magical blood in your system so that your soul will be trapped by the magic and will not leave your body. It is then reanimated a few hours after we die. To complete the transformation, we must feed."

She absorbs your words for a moment. Until she finally asks: "Who transformed you?"

You lick your lips, shifting your eyes to the pot as if to confirm the cooking time, before turning away from the counter. "Come with me, I want to show you something."

She follows you around the mansion, way past the kitchen to another level. The entrance hall extends into a long corridor with many old paintings. Finally silver doors at the end.

"This is the main suite of the mansion." You clarify, fiddling with a bunch of keys kept in your pocket until now. Apparently, the only locked room was that one. "It's been adapted, moved from the upper floor to here on the lower level since, at the end of her life, the owner couldn't take the stairs."

Once unlocked, you push the doors open with both hands, exposing the immense royal suite inside. Wanda thinks it looks a lot like fantasy books and is busy admiring the decorations when she comes across a painting on the wall that knocks the air out of her lungs.

"What...?" She approached with uncertain steps until she was touching the painting with her fingers, groping for the drawing of a face that could easily be mistaken for her own. "How is that possible?" She demanded to know, turning to you.

You were still standing in the doorway, your hands in your pockets. "This is your ancestor."

"And why the hell does she have my face?"

"Heritage?" You retort good-humoredly, but Wanda snorts incredulously, advancing towards you angrily. You quickly raise your hands in surrender, a nervous laugh escaping as you see the fury in her eyes. “I’m joking, dear lord! I didn't mean to upset you. Let me tell you the whole story!."

"It better be a very good one." She retorts, watching you intently as if expecting a kidnap attempt.

You sigh, nodding before turning your face to the photo. "Her name was Elizabeth. She's gone if that's not obvious. This painting was done over four centuries years ago when your family was still known as the Maksymovs. They lived well, your ancestors, as you can see from the amount of gold in this manor. But sorcery and witchcraft were never very well-liked anywhere, and just like the rest of us, your family was hunted down." You say, stepping aside to open the curtains and light up the room. Still, on your back, you continued to talk. "I was just a little girl when Lady Maksymov took me in, Elizabeth’s mother. I cleaned and cooked, and I was lucky enough to be allowed inside the mansion. To share the room with the family. All due respect to their memories, but my Lady was not a decent person. She was cruel and harsh and preferred to die on the mountain of money than give a little to the children she watched depart for this place. I stayed here because I had no other choice in life, and when the neighbors began to question what she was doing in the basement, she was taken away just like her children.  And unlike her mother or any of her siblings, Elizabeth was not a very talented witch. Her magic was dormant. That poor woman, always so sad under the cruelties shouted at her by her relatives. She could never master chaos but it got better when she gave in to the darkhold's allure. Unfortunately for the servants, her gentle personality was gone once her magic control was improved. I remember her dark fingers chastising me every time I failed to fold the sheets correctly."

Wanda swallowed at the anger hidden. Your posture was enough for her to believe your words.

“Why did she turn you?”

You smile sadly. "I was just a means to an end." You reply. "Elizabeth was what they called a Siphoner. Although descended from a powerful witch lineage, she couldn't generate her own magic. She could only steal it from elsewhere, either from a magic book or from a vampire." 

Wanda sighs as she understands, and you chuckle in upset. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You weren't even close to existing back then."

She moves closer. "Still, on behalf of my family, I'm sorry." The witch says as gently as she can. "I can hardly imagine how painful that probably was."

You shrug, trying to be casual. "That was a long time ago, Miss Maximoff." You mumble before sighing. "And it didn't work out the way she wanted either. Elizabeth didn't intend to use me as her magical reservoir for so long. She wanted me to transform her. Make her a heretic, a vampire-witch hybrid so that she could steal magic from her own nature. And like a good servant, I did just that."

Wanda could feel the force of your painful memories with her telekinesis, flashes of vivid images in your mind begging to be relieved. A personal torture. 

"Let me guess, that was the rule you broke that put you in that tomb."

You lower your head, looking very upset all of a sudden. "No, Miss Maximoff. I was loyal until I wasn't anymore." Wanda frowns in confusion, but you sigh and stare at your own reflection in the window. "The abuse of the Darkhold destroyed Lady Elizabeth. Not even the spell of immortality could heal her, remove the rot from her soul. We traveled the world, searching for potions and creatures and anything we could find to help her, but I knew that the slaughter she was doing in the name of her own health had to be stopped. When our last trip ended, I told her I wouldn't help her anymore."

Wanda can see clearly now; the wrathful recollections of a witchy lady with an almost demonic appearance. The hold of the Darkhold on Elizabeth's soul. How you're only trying to defend yourself when you strike back.

You sniffle, turning your face away, and Wanda blocks your memories from her mind immediately.

"No greater dishonor than ingratitude." You mutter. "I shouldn't have turned my back on Elizabeth. She died alone in this empty mansion, taken by her illness. I returned to a rotten land wracked by dark magic. I restored every stone and raised the mansion to its original state. I lived as a vampire for a decade before I was captured. Elizabeth, in her last vengeful act, left a letter denouncing all her family's crimes to the magical authorities of the time. A lineage who survived the witch-hunts, chased by their own kind like animals. I wore the same coat of arms and slept in the family mansion, so they didn't care that my surname wasn't the same. But I wasn't a witch to die, and the darkhold refused to show the executors exactly how to kill me. The solution was a prison."

You're surprised that Wanda reaches for your hand, but you don't pull away. She also gives you a small smile.

"Three hundred years is too long to punish someone who had no choice." She says, the gesture of her thumb caressing your palm making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Definitely too long without touching someone was messing with your head. Little did you know, Wanda was going through something quite similar. Starved for physical touch. "Is that why you're being so generous? Do you think you owe this family a debt?" You swallow, nodding, and Wanda sighs. " Sweetheart..."

"Please let me serve you." Your tone is almost desperate, Wanda shakes her head. "Please-"

"This isn't the 1700s, Y/N. I won't be your lady." She assures you, her grip tighter. "You're a person, not a property."

"I'd be dead if it weren't for Elizabeth-"

"She was cruel and selfish, and she used you to your last breath. And beyond!" Wanda interrupts, not losing her composure when you huff impatiently and pull your hand away. "You can grumble all you want. I'm not going to honor the memory of some slave owner, family or not. You're free to go."

"But I don't want to leave, Wanda." You snap, almost pleading. "This is my home. Serving your family has always been... my purpose. Turning my back on it made me lose everything. And then you saved me, and for a second, I thought I could see Elizabeth again. I ran to this place, and I realized how much time had actually gone by." You sniffle, your hands going to Wanda's shoulders. "Please. Caring is the only thing I know how to do right."

Wanda sighs, her hands finding your wrists. "This isn't caring, Y/N, this is servitude. I would never ask this of you." Your expression falls as if you're being rejected. Wanda stops your hands from moving away. "But I could use a friend."

Your face lights up, and Wanda smiles too because she thinks you look so beautiful now. "Oh, that... is really very sweet. I'd be honored."

The witch chuckles. "You're adorable. Come, our lunch should be ready soon." She doesn't mention that you two walk into the kitchen hand in hand, and you don't mind, so you don't say anything either.

-&-

"I can't believe you don't know what McDonald's is."

"And I can't believe you've never been to the Opera, but here we are."

Wanda chuckles, shaking her head in disbelief at your response. You're sitting on the living room floor, or rather on cushions on the carpet because you refused to sit so informally and she was still working on getting you to relax into the casual way of living life in that century. 

Weeks into a roommate routine, your activities consisted of having meals together and talking about everything and nothing at the same time. You'd spent 300 years imprisoned, and Wanda had a multitude of things to introduce you to, while you'd been raised by the ancient witch family of the ancestors of a woman who knew little about her origins. You had as much to tell as she did.

Most days when you two would leave the Mansion, you would experience things that you had never experienced before. Restaurants, food trucks, and even the invention of cars or electricity. The Mansion needed to be restored too, but Wanda was happy to know that it hadn't been abandoned.

It was magically hidden, and she had distant cousins from very old marriages in her distant line. It was one of the best pieces of news she'd ever received - to know that she wasn't the only Maximoff left.

The Manor had been cared for over the centuries by escape witches, some of whom, like Elizabeth, had their powers dormant and lived normal lives under that roof. Until the place was finally inherited by her great-aunt, Tatiana, who was living in New Orleans, and Wanda would visit once the work on the mansion was finished.

She had no idea where you got the money for a whole restoration team, and you laughed when she asked, offering as an answer only the information that vampires can persuade people.

That's how you ended up on the living room floor, finishing gathering old belongings that needed to be protected from the paint restoration and set-up of that chamber.

"It's nice that some things have been preserved so well." She comments, stealing a quick glance at your figure distracted by sorting letters. You look good in this century's clothes that Wanda helped you pick out. The barely buttoned plaid shirt makes Wanda hold her breath every time she catches herself letting her gaze fall to your collarbone. 

"Rich families often treasure stuff." You retort with an easy smile. You stack a few letters before opening the next box of items and gasp slightly when you find something very valuable inside. "Look, I think you'll want to keep this."

The small item is placed in her palm: A gold button with an "M" engraved on it. The family crest. Wanda doesn't know why, but it makes her eyes water, and she gives you a tearful smile as she thanks you.

But despite this balanced relationship and pleasant routine, there was still the elephant in the room.

Every evening, you went out to feed yourself. For almost two months, Wanda didn't ask any questions. Even though she was dying to know exactly how, or even who.

But she didn't want to be invasive or even sound like someone obsessed with your fangs.

She would wait for some casual moment to bring up the subject. Perhaps at the next dinner party, with a joke, and then she would ask if you could show her how it was done.

Luckily for her, another witch was even more interested in the story.

Tatiana was an expert enchantress. She lived in an apartment in the heart of New Orleans and had a very busy pub, and to no surprise, frequented mainly by mystical beings. It was Wanda's first time in a place of that kind.

She was so excited to meet another member of her family that she almost forgot her last worries. It was her aunt, in between many colorful drinks after an afternoon of introduction, who brought up the subject again.

"So tell me, sweetie, all this work to restore the Maximoff household. It must be exhausting even for a vampire." Tatiana began with a smile. Her curly hair fell in waves down her back, and for the third time that night, Wanda noticed that green eyes were probably the only physical feature that most of the Maximoff women shared. Her aunt has a dangerous smirk on her lips as she looks in your direction, and Wanda swallows dryly as she realizes that it's the flirtatious kind. "We allow feeding in these parts."

You're taken aback. You chuckle awkwardly, aware of the two witches' attention in your direction. The crowded bar seems to get even smaller.

"I'm fine, Tatiana, don't worry." Wanda thinks you're lying. You can never maintain eye contact when you do, and she also often finds it charming how a vampire can be so bad at telling lies. "I had some blood before I got here-"

"By Morgana, that was several hours ago!" Tatiana cuts in, gesturing excitedly to the waiters. She was very happy to meet Wanda too and had been drinking since early morning in celebration. "You know, I used to date a vampire back in the last century. He had a restricted diet of animals and always looked pale and hungry. Are you one of those vegetarian vampires too?"

The question is rhetorical, she doesn't even hear your confused mutter "I don't think vegetarianism works like that". She's busy with the waitress, whose irises redden as soon as Tatiana speaks to her. The girl is younger than everyone else there and is clearly bewitched.

"There you go, dear, you can have a taste." Offers the woman, to which you choke in surprise.

"What? H-here? But..."

"Now, don't you act like a good Samaritan, Miss L/N." Tatiana retorts in a provocative tone, resting her chin on one hand. "I know what you got up to before you were imprisoned. Feeding off a waitress is nothing."

You're immediately crestfallen, your face flushing with shame. Wanda looks at her aunt with irritation.

"Don't talk to her like that." The younger witch says sternly. "'She's already received enough of a punishment.

Tatiana chuckles wickedly, tilting her head gently. A very familiar gesture indeed. "Let's get a few things clear, Wanda. The only reason I didn't rip that usurper vampire's head off the moment she set foot in my town was because she brought my niece back to me. The fighting separated our families, I never knew I had nephews. Do you think you would have joined that group of dressed-up Americans if I'd known you were a genuine Maximoff? No, dear, I would have raised you. Restored our coven, taught you magic, as it should have been. As it would have been if this ungrateful little blood-sucker had fulfilled the role she was given. Every spell has a price, and she didn't pay for this one she so boldly displayed for a decade of fortune-raising."

"I regret it very deeply, miss-"

"No, you don't apologize for any of this." Wanda interrupts you with a gentle squeeze on your wrist under the table. With a serious expression, she faces her aunt. "Let's actually get things straight, Auntie. You don't talk to her like that. Ever. You're not going to use something that happened three centuries ago against someone who has spent all this time imprisoned in a tomb, paying for crimes she didn't commit alone. It seems that witches, especially from this family, have a habit of evading accountability. I know that well." Tatiana gives a little smile, clearly aware of Westview, or what came after. Wanda doesn't hesitate. "She's my friend. And she's been through enough. All she's done since she came back is look after me, and I'm not going to accept this kind of treatment from anyone, not even my blood. And considering history, especially my blood."

Without contradicting, Tatiana nods in understanding, busying herself with lighting one of the cigarettes on the corner of the table. The colorful smoke wafted upwards as she finished a long drag.

"As you please, Scarlet Witch." The elder woman finally replies, and you swallow dryly, stealing a glance at Wanda to see if she might lose her temper at the slight challenge in her aunt's tone.

Damn, you'd forgotten how the Maximoffs had a rather dangerously weak ego to offend, especially if challenged.

But luckily for you, Wanda forced a smile, and the tension at the table eased. Tatiana dismissed the waiter with a nod and went back to talking about business in the city as if nothing had happened.

For the rest of the evening, Wanda drew patterns on the palm of your hand under the table.

-&-

Around midnight, when the desserts were finished but the bar seemed livelier than ever, you felt really hungry.

The witches were engaged in animated conversation about the times in Sokovia, how Tatiana missed the opportunity to find out about the Maximoffs after the surname grew more common around the country for a few years before disappearing again, and you used the opportunity to escape for a few moments.

A quick snack, just to satisfy your hunger. After all, you always kept yourself full around Wanda; you'd never forgive yourself if you lost control around her.

You make your way through the crowded bar, taking one last look at the back table before making your way to the exit. You're almost at the door when someone purposely bumps into you.

"Hey, better watch where you're going." Warned the corpulent fellow; he was at least ten centimeters taller and had a strong distinctive smell that caused you an instant anxiety. 

Wolf scent.

"Sorry, I didn't see you." You mumble, ready to bypass him, but he steps in your way again. 

"We don't like strangers around here." He informs you with a small smile, showing off his canine fangs. "You're lucky we have our orders, miss."

You sigh slightly. "Who are you again?"

"The name's Victor Creed, but everyone calls me Sabertooth. You know, because of these little beauties here." He points to his fangs with conviction. "They grow much bigger during the transformation. I once ripped the head of one of your kind with them." The story is clearly told to intimidate you, but your unimpressed expression makes the man clear his throat. "Don't go wandering around, Tatiana can't protect you on the outside."

You force a smile. "I can take care of myself, wolf, don't worry." You move around him to finally leave, but even with his back turned, Sabertooth laughs.

"Alright then, go for a walk while I introduce myself to your little witch. Do you know if the Scarlet Witch is looking for better watchdogs? If she's as stuck-up as the rest of the family, maybe I'll write to Kamar Taj about where she's been hiding."

The thing is, maybe you've spent too much time with the Maximoffs all your life. And your temper is just as bad as theirs.

Victor has barely finished his teasing, and you've already grabbed him by the arm, mashing him into the ground like a lump of flour. The commotion immediately attracts the attention of everyone around, but until the crowd fully identifies what's going on, Victor has already used his wolf-like speed to get to his feet and advance on you.

He's so confident about his own strength that it takes him a whole moment to realize that your fist has already gone through his chest.

"Give me one good reason not to spread your guts on this floor, Mr. Creed." You say with an unwavering expression, your hand clenched around his barely beating heart.

Victor chokes on his own blood, his muscular hands try to push your shoulders back, but you don't move an inch. He grunts in pain.

"I-I take it back." He gasps, but you squeeze a little harder.

"That's not a reason."

The man breaks down in a sob. "P-please. I'm begging you. I wasn't thinking-"

It would be so easy, just to kill him. Rip the heart out of that arrogant wolf and let him drop. You never forgot the feeling, the predatory hunger for blood and violence burning in your veins. Nor Elizabeth's disappointed look every time you ended up covered in blood and it didn't do any good.

Letting go of the heart, and pulling your hand out, you saw Victor's wound heal immediately. A full moon must have been just around the corner for a wolf to heal so quickly.

His release drew your attention to the rest of the pub. All those people, watching the scene with mixed expressions of horror and disbelief on their faces. Some clearly recognized you, others seemed surprised to witness a werewolf of that size being beaten so easily.

Vitor's blood stained the blouse Wanda gifted you, and you swallowed down the urge to vomit.

While you were trying to recover from the interaction, a duo cut through the crowd, and Tatiana's short giggle made you wince.

"Keep her in line, Wanda. We don't make a mess this close to humans in this neighborhood." The witch warns but Wanda is staring at you in complete mesmerization. You shake your wrist gently, letting the excess blood drip onto the floor before you start to move.

The adrenaline of the confrontation has starved you.

-&-

You barely enter the first alley before Wanda catches up with you.

"Where are you going?"

But you don't answer the question, you just keep walking and retort: "Go back inside, I won't be long."

For a moment, you think she'll obey, but how foolish of you. Wanda was probably the most stubborn Maximoff you've ever met.

She almost gives you a heart attack when she appears in your path, making you jump backward.

"What the hell...?"

"You're shutting me out." She declares, frustrated. You swallow dry, shaking your head.

"No, I'm just going for a walk to clear my head. See you at the apartment-"

"Taking a walk is what you're calling it now? I'm not an idiot, I know you're going to feed." Wanda interrupted annoyed, getting in your way and stopping you from fleeing. "Why do you keep trying to hide this part of yourself? I don't care that you're a vampire."

"Wanda, please, just move."

"No."

"Wanda."

She crosses her arms. "I wanna watch." 

You choke, chuckling nervously. "Excuse me?" 

But she doesn't lose her cool, nodding. "I want to watch you feed on someone."

Wanda imagined some reactions to the suggestion: anger, indignation, mockery. She didn't think you'd turn so clumsy, with rosy cheeks and unable to look her in the eye.

"You're a very odd individual." You mumble shyly, and she has to giggle confusedly, losing her serious pose to adjust the collar of your blouse. 

"Pleaseee." She stretches out the word, liking the way a smile breaks across your lips or especially the way you stare at her mouth when she talks like that. "I'll behave. I'll just stay put and watch. I've never seen it happen before. Please, honey? Just once."

You sigh in defeat, and Wanda taps her hands before jumping on your neck, and hugging you excitedly. It's a very difficult struggle to keep your fangs away with her so close.

It doesn't even last half a minute, but it feels like an eternity because you want to feed and everything always moves slower if the vampire focuses on hunger. 

"It's not going to be anything special, I don't want to cause a scene in your aunt's neighborhood." You let her know, thinking you need to talk a bit to push the dizziness away.

Wanda smiles excitedly. "Anything will be great, darling. Come on, I'll be right behind you."

It's easy to find prey in a place like New Orleans. You end up deciding on a restaurant waiter, isolated in one of the alleys. He's a young adult, distracted by chores, and you almost give up because of the smell of garbage so close by. But it's a very good isolated opportunity to waste like this.

Your fangs are already out when there's a noise behind you.

Wanda has bumped into something, loud enough to attract the boy's attention, who is startled by the two figures in the alley. One glimpse of your vampiric appearance and he's stumbling frightened away before starting to run.

You sigh incredulously, and Wanda appears in your field of vision.

"Sorry, it was..." She falls silent, surprised that you haven't gathered your usual looks and absorbing every detail of your face now. From the fangs to the completely darkened eye sclera. When she speaks, her voice is much huskier. "An accident."

"It's okay, it actually tastes better when they're scared." You shrug. "The adrenaline and fear accelerates the heart which pumps fresh blood throughout the body. That's why so many vampires prefer to hunt at night. People are more afraid of the dark than they think."

Wanda chuckles, looking at you in a way that makes you forget about the boy's footsteps becoming too distant to distinguish from the other sounds of the city.

"You're kind of a vampire nerd." 

"I don't know what that word means." You give a confused laugh and Wanda moves closer.

"It means I think you're really cute." She retorts, making you gulp dryly. Her hands find your shoulders, and Wanda gets close enough for you to count her freckles. "And I'm dying to know how these little ones feel, darling. Do they hurt?”

She's too close for you to focus, but you make an effort. "Hm, just a little, when they come out. They usually only bother me when I'm really hungry."

Wanda's fists cross together behind your head, and she's definitely too close for you to think about anything other than her.

"And how hungry are you now?"

"Very, Miss Maximoff." You confess hoarsely. Wanda smiles mischievously, tilting her neck in your direction.

"Well, I think you should have a little taste."

"God, Wanda." Your eyes close on instinct, your face falling forward so that you sink into the gap in her collarbone. Wanda shudders, as affected as you are. Her hands-free themselves so that she can stroke your arm, as a reassurance that everything is all right, and also caress your hair because apparently everything so far hasn't been maddening enough for her.

Every cell of your spirit begs you to sink your fangs into the warm skin in front of you, to drink every drop until Wanda faints against you, but you fight nature itself with her help. Her soft sighs in your ear, assuring you that she trusts you.

"It'll only be a little bit, I promise." You assure her, licking the spot gently and drawing a deep sigh from the other girl. It's the sound you focus on before you take the first bite.

Wanda tenses at the slightest hint of pain, but another sensation takes over elsewhere. Her cheeks burn with the betrayal of her own body, and she finds herself unable to care about the mild pain while she's throbbing between her legs.

Her nails dig into your biceps, and she starts to squirm under you, surrendering to the sensation of your bodies so close together. You hum in satisfaction at the soothing of your hunger, and Wanda drops her hand to your waist.

"Enough, baby." She whispers the request, her nails scratching the hair on the back of your neck. "I'm starting to get dizzy."

You hold on a little tighter, and Wanda softens against your body. Her heart is pounding, and she is aware of her pathetic underwear situation. Your body heaved forward, and Wanda didn't have the strength to resist any pull. She feels her back hit the wall of the alley, and whimpers at the feel of your leg pressed between hers.

She doesn't think she has ever been so at someone's mercy as she is now. She just wants to tell you to help her relieve the pressure between her legs, but every time she tries to call you, what leaves her lips are needy moans.

And you kept feeding and the surroundings began to darken. Wanda only realized that she'd been grinding herself on your thigh all this time because her climax approached at high speed, and falling off the edge brought a momentary recovery of consciousness.

"Oh, God, detka!" She meows, spilling herself on your thigh. Her body spasms softly, and you tense up, stopping your feeding immediately. Wanda falls limp in your arms, trying to fuck herself stupidly even after the orgasm she's just achieved. Your arms are the only support keeping her upright. "Do that again."

You shake your head, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. "No, I took more than I should have." You retort softly, and Wanda has to blink a few times to realize that your appearance has returned to normal. "What a terrible idea that was, Wanda. So dangerous… I was starving."

She gives you a dreamy little smile. "How do I taste?"

"The best I've ever had." You assure her before adjusting her to hold her in your arms just in time for Wanda to lose consciousness.

She dreams of the same feeling of being carried but in a place much colder than New Orleans.

-&-

She wakes up just in time to see you putting her to bed, all the way to the borrowed room in her aunt's empty apartment.

Wanda grabs your wrist before you can pull away after putting the covers over her.

"Hey." Your voice and gaze are so sweet that she almost forgets everything that has happened so far. But Wanda actually remembers very well, and the lingering sensation of your body against hers makes her shiver. 

"Hey... sorry for blacking out on you." She murmurs, her free hand coming up to your face. You bite your lip, still hovering over her body and uncertain what you should do next. Should you pull away? Lean in and kiss Wanda like you've been dreaming of doing for weeks? She seems to be able to see all the hesitation in your eyes, and offers a reassuring smile, her hand caressing your cheek. "What's wrong?"

Wanda is definitely teasing you, but you don't mind, smiling too as you steady your hands next to her body on the mattress, face to face, the two of you waiting for the other to make a move first until the tension is almost unbearable. But you also remember what brought you there, and let out a small sigh.

"You shouldn't have baited me like that, Wanda. It's dangerous, I could have... lost control."

Her expression becomes almost mischievous, a smile threatening to break out on her lips. "I've survived much worse, darling."

You sigh in frustration. "Wanda..."

"It's the truth." She chuckles even though you move away to sit down properly. Wanda also mimics the gesture, looking for your hand on the bed so that you stop grimacing and look at her. "Hey, come on, don't be upset."

"I'm not."

"Then why the pout?" She leans in, kissing your cheek and you snort away, unable to stay angry with this adorably charming witch. "You have to trust me, sweetheart." She whispers, kissing your jaw. You sigh, squeezing her hand gently.

"I trust you with my life, Wanda." You let her know in the same tone, intertwining your fingers in her lap. Wanda smiles against your skin, chaste kisses trailing from your jaw to your collarbone. "I'm just scared... that one day, I'll lose control and hurt you. I'd never forgive myself."

She pulls away a little to look you in the eye. "I meant it what I said before." Starts the witch. "I've been through much worse. You weren't there to see... what I did to reach that little girl. You don't have to worry about hurting me, because it doesn't matter, I'll always heal." With your hesitation, she pulls further away to push the collar of her shirt aside and let you see the place where you fed on her a few minutes ago. "Look, it's gone. You have to trust me, darling. I know that the idea of anyone being stronger than an original is hard for you to accept, but believe me, I'll be fine. I'll always be fine, even if you are starving and out of your mind."

You grimace, adjusting yourself so that you can hold her by the waist and place her on your lap. "Just because you're going to heal doesn't mean I can hurt you. You deserve kindness, Wanda. I can give you my best." Your mouth meets hers, it's not a hungry kiss but it's a hot one and it takes Wanda out of her orbit. It's been a while since the last time, and well, it's never really been like this. She struggles a little to find her rhythm, for a short moment just panting against your experienced tongue, until she finally responds in an equally passionate way that makes you sigh and press your body to hers. 

Wanda likes the sound. Wanda likes you.

"Can I take off your shirt?" Your request comes between one kiss and another, she hardly answers because her mind is clouded with arousal, and if she could be honest, she would have been out of her clothes a long time ago. 

"Yes, please." She gasps back, anxious hands tracing your back. Wanda is restless under your touch, shy about your gaze once the clothes come off. But you do everything with an unbearable slowness that leaves her squeezing her thighs together in search of relief. 

She had sex before - For the first time in a war-torn adolescence, an experience that was forgettable and almost regretted. And then with a machine man who could pretend but never had the biological need to do so. 

This moment right now was like no other, being with someone who worshipped her body, who was as breathless as she was, who reacted to her touch and was practically at her mercy when she touched the right spot.

And Wanda finds that she loves it. Having you touch her and touch you back, and feeling your fangs scratch her skin every time she thrusts her hips into yours.

Pinned against the bed, naked as you are, your legs entwined together like your bodies. Sighs of pleasure mingle with the dance of your hips, and Wanda digs her nails into your back as your fangs press into her collarbone. 

You drink less than last time, but her legs still tingle. Or maybe it's the orgasm hitting her hard.

This is different from the first - the whole bed vibrates with the wave of magic that escapes the witch with her back arched. You hold Wanda, even though you're also shaking with the force of your own climax. She initiates the next kiss this time, moaning into your tongue as she spins your bodies around with ease. Your hands entwine together at the top of your head, but Wanda lets go, lowering herself and getting a confused sigh from you.

"What are you up to, little witch?"

Then it occurs to her with your expression that you are four centuries old and have spent much of this time as a prisoner and that perhaps you haven't been so confident because Wanda is your first lover.

She looks back up, sitting on your hips, breathing out of rhythm but now with a new excitement shining in her eyes.

"Babe, be honest... have you ever been with a woman before?"

Your face gains a deep color, and you turn your gaze away. Wanda falls hard, even if it doesn't occur to her yet.

She giggles softly and you're even more embarrassed, but she doesn't let you move away, her firm legs holding you in place.

"Don't make fun of me." You mutter, and Wanda snorts softly.

"Never." She assures you, even though she already has a new dozen antics memorized. Her mouth kisses your jaw and goes down like her body. The color in your cheeks is for another reason soon. "I love being your first. I want to make you feel good."

You hesitate to hold her when she's stimulating you, worried about losing control of your own strength. The sheets are destroyed when Wanda flicks her tongue over your breasts, smiling with delight at the sight of you squirming.

She goes lower and you gasp for air. "What... are you doing?" You ask mortified. It's not the 1700s anymore, you have to remember. Female pleasure is, well, taken into account. Wanda bites the inside of your thighs, watching the muscles twitch for a moment.

"You'll love it, I promise." It's the only thing she says before diving in, her hot mouth pulling all the air from your lungs. It's the most wonderful thing you've ever felt. Wanda's tongue works on your most intimate part, teasing your entrance before she starts to eat you out hungrily. You grip the headboard, your eyes closed tightly. Wanda holds your legs open, and the knot in your stomach starts to become impossible to contain. 

The witch seems to like it too. She moans for your taste on her tongue, and the new vibration pushes you over the edge. Wanda holds your spasming body without difficulty, you think she uses magic for that. And still calming down, it takes you a whole moment to stop seeing stars.

Wanda licks up every drop of your pleasure, moaning softly before meeting your gaze again. You can't hold it, and end up covering your reddened face with your arm while ignoring the smug giggle of the witch who begins to climb your body again.

"Don't be shy... you look so pretty when you moan my name." She praises you provocatively, and you can't help but smile, feeling completely relaxed. Wanda waits for you to look at her again, her arms resting on your shoulder so that she can look at you closely. "Hi."

Your hand finds her cheek. " Hi, yourself." She leans into your touch, her smile filling your chest with warm happiness. Wanda sighs.

"Can we stay like this? Just for a moment." She asks quietly, and something in her gaze tells her that the question isn't just for today. Wanda wants to know if you can be with her.

You would. Forever if she wished. "Of course, little witch. For as long as you want."

[thebladeblaster]

I’m so excited for what’s coming fr. My thoughts on the arc that just happened.

Sorry, I haven’t talked much about the past few chapters. I have been reading them but haven’t had anything unique to say. I really like this shot.

These two are a pair I never knew was needed. They’re so funny. The Valacs are very interested in the big three grandsons🤣. Getting more characterization from them definitely wasn’t something that I expected. I can’t believe this arc actually made me like Leiji. Makes me wonder if Razberry will get an arc too. I think seeing how other demon schools are is interesting.

Also Balam is so cool. This guy made a grave mistake.

I think it’s really interesting that Nishi is finally calling attention back to the induced evil cycles. I have been thinking for awhile that there will be an evil cycle pandemic which leads to Iruma getting forced back into the human world for his safety. Considering the last arc I’m certain that the human world arc is happening. It’s kinda crazy that the ideas I had for where the story could go seem to be getting set up. I think we’ll see Razberry at least before that happens and Iruma becoming rank 6.

Okay so I’ll say it now what I’ve been thinking for awhile. I believe Baal or/and Kiriwo is intentionally waiting for Iruma’s happiness to reach its peak before sending him crashing down.

Things have changed since Kiriwo’s attempted school bombing he realized how Iruma couldn’t be affected by despair because for so long he really didn’t have anything to lose or look forward to. But Iruma has so much now compared to before. He’s made many connections with people not only at Bablys but throughout the demon world, he has a happy family, and a stable life all the things he never had before. This is shown very clearly in both the Harvest Festival and Devicium. Because he has been given happiness he has become susceptible to these feelings.

I think that in an upcoming arc Baal will induce evil cycles in a bunch of demons then out Iruma. Like remember the last arc with Clara.

She got so close to eating Iruma and is one of those who are the closest to him. If Azz wasn’t there he would’ve been. Now, imagine that but it’s almost everyone. Iruma won’t be safe even with those he considers friends. He will suddenly be isolated who knows who will get infected Azz could or he could get temporarily taken out by someone who is.

I don’t know what would bring him more despair. This or the prospect that he will have to return to the human world. Potentially going back to his old life.

If there was ever something that could break Iruma it’s this.

He’s left vulnerable physically and mentally. In such a state transforming him into Delkira using whatever method Baal has in mind would be simple.

Alternatively the three great grandsons may be able to stop the encroaching disaster together. Leiji seems suspicious of the Six Fingers that are posing as teachers. He may do something to stop what they’re planning. I have a feeling that they’re doing this at Razberry’s school too. With this coming to all of their intentions they could find a way to avoid infection and band together. I guess we’ll see🤔.

Maybe Iruma will finally confront his parents for real if he goes back and if there is some truth to be revealed it could come out. The more time passes the more the “stupid parents sold their kid to a demon” is becoming more suspicious.

Honestly I really want him to get the chance to confront them for all of the crap they put him through. Please let them have powers and be the final villains or something I want Iruma to have an excuse to kick their asses.

[exhaslo]

Ok ok soooo what if you did like a fasion designer y/n and she is helping Miguel redesign his suit then like as she is measuring him or something she notices he is hard and like ✨smut✨

Oh, reader will take the measurements alright. Hopefully they can remember it *wink wink*

Warning: MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), slow sex, mirror sex

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

"How did this happen?! I specifically remember both of us working on this suit, making it nearly impossible to tear!" You yelled towards a poor, nervous Peter.

"To be fair...It wasn't one of my villains."

"Oh? I'm sorry, I didn't know heroes could villain swap! Who the hell did you trade with? The Guardians of the Galaxy?" You scoffed, holding the destroyed suit in your hands.

"Easy, (Y/N), only I can bully them this much." Miguel said as he walked into your office, "You also have to remember, he's new."

"Which is why I helped him with the suit." You hissed lowly and tossed it back to the Peter, "You get to remake it. When done, I want to know who the hell you fought that tore the suit to shreds."

"..."

Peter kept quiet as he slowly made his way out of your office. The silence was more than enough for you to start assuming shit. Inhaling deeply, you walked over to your espresso machine and made both you and Miguel a cup of coffee.

"You know the work you do is above all," Miguel hummed as he took a seat on your couch. You gave him a pout,

"But it's never enough. How am I supposed to be helping you all make suits if they never hold up after a few fights?"

"They're not supposed too," Miguel reassured you, "Only special conditions like my original suit can withstand such events."

"But you won't let me touch the stuff."

"It's unstable for a reason." Miguel said with a heavy sigh and approached you from behind, "But, like everyone else. I need to upgrade my suit."

"Oh? No more blue and red?!" You gasped in shock, then grabbed his hands, "Ohhhhh, does this mean-"

"Yes, I'm letting you help me make a new suit."

You jumped with joy, nearly squealing at the thought of helping Miguel. The man liked to keep his toys to himself. That, and you would finally get a chance to measure him. There was a glint in your eyes as you observed him.

Miguel was a FINE man. Compared to all of the Spiders, he was definitely your type. When Miguel first approached you with the intension of making super hero suits, you nearly drooled at the thought. You loved a challenge.

And Miguel was your new target.

"So, when can I take the measurements?" You asked, handing Miguel a cup of coffee. Miguel raised a brow,

"I can have Lyla send them over-"

"Seriously? What the hell am I supposed to be here for then?" You huffed, giving Miguel a glare.

"Fine. Is tomorrow alright?"

"It's a date."

-------

Miguel was internally screaming as he sat in his office, staring at you on the cameras. The thoughts he had about you. The things you did to him. Miguel had a damn good reason why he never went to you for his suits. You brought out the worst of him.

Even now, the thought of you being up close to him was turning Miguel on. He was going to have to take precautionary measures in order not to lose control.

"Fuck."

--------

Today was the day. You had your morning coffee, your best outfit and your best panties attitude. No one was going to disturb you today. Your office was closed to everyone expect Miguel. This was the chance of a lifetime.

Getting your station and measurements ready, you just smiled from ear to ear. Your notepad was set aside, ready for you to take down Miguel's numbers.

"(Y/N)? Are you here?" Miguel asked as he entered. You hurried over and locked the door,

"The chance of a lifetime is mine. Get your ass up on my stage! We begin with your chest!" You cheered. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he took his shirt off,

"At least one of us is enjoying this."

You were giddy with glee as you approached Miguel. Your gaze against his chest as you started to take his measurements. You could not lie, being this close to him was driving you crazy. His cologne smelled so good too.

You hummed quietly to yourself as your fingers stroked his chest. Every now and then you grabbed your pencil and wrote in your small notepad. Moving down to his hips, you kept your focus. Miguel's body was just perfect.

"(Y/N)...Maybe we should take a break," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Not yet," You muttered.

Your hands rested against the rim of his pants, reading the numbers on your measuring tape. Adjusting the tape, you leaned down in front of Miguel and felt your face burn up. His hard erection was right in front of your face.

"Ah-" Your eyes widen and without thinking, "Should I measure this too?"

"If you want," Miguel whispered.

Both of you weren't thinking.

Your fingers gripped Miguel's boxers, slowly pulling them down. Your attention was focused on his large, thick cock. With a gulp, you grabbed your measuring tape and wrapped it around his meaty shaft. A shudder ran down your spine, before you checked the length.

"Is this...proper...length?" You whispered, your fingers wrapped around his dick, "Or should I-"

"You should," Miguel groaned lowly.

You could feel your heartbeat in your panties as you leaned towards Miguel's dick. Your tongue gently swirling around his tip, listening to his low groans and grunts. You glanced at the mirrors all around you, the sight turning you on more.

You were on your knees with Miguel's dick in your mouth. Inhaling through your nose, you leaned forward and started to suck his dick. Your hands resting against his hips as you bobbed your head back and forth. His thick shaft hitting the back of your throat.

Your panties grew damper as you felt Miguel's bitter precum start to go down your throat. His hands gripping onto your hair as he started to move your mouth faster. The sheer length of his dick was starting to burn your throat as you gripped his hips.

"Fuck, hn, (Y/N)!" Miguel hissed.

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you tried to touch yourself. Unable to handle the burning sensation anymore, you pulled away from Miguel, panting heavy. Quickly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him.

Miguel was quick to follow as he nearly tore your pants, tossing them across the room. His talons ripping your panties as he started to rub his dick against your wet cunt.

"Hah~ You owe me...new underwear and pants now," You moaned, pressing your body against his. Miguel grunted as he pressed you against one of the mirrors,

"You wanted to take my measurements," He hissed, pressing his thick cock inside you.

"Hn~ Mhm~ Y-You wanted a suit,"

"I still do," Miguel hummed, sitting his dick nice and deep inside your tight velvet walls, "Do you still remember my size?"

"O-Of course!" You huffed, glancing at yourself in the mirror, "Y-You're way too big."

"Haha, but look how well you take me,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel lifted your body closer to his. He spread your legs, allowing you to see his cock deep inside your dripping pussy. The sight alone was making you hot. With a slow thrust, you moaned, nearly shaking in his grip.

"Sucking me in so well," Miguel sucked against your neck as he continued his slow, yet rough thrusts, "This was why I didn't want you to measure me."

"Ah~ Ah~ Y-You should have, mhm~ let me, oh god~" You cried out, feeling yourself about to cum.

"You're right, I should have. Look at how perfect your pussy is sucking my dick in," Miguel grunted.

Turning your face to the mirror in front, you moaned as Miguel slapped his dick back inside you. Your eyes rolled back as you cam, crying out as he kept his slow thrusts. Miguel's hands gripped your breasts, pinching your nipples as he hummed against your ear,

"Do you still remember my measurements?"

"D-Deep~"

You trembled as your pussy fluttered against his dick. Miguel chuckled in response and pressed your body against the mirror, rubbing your clit as he moved even more slowly. You cried, begging for him to go faster.

"Not until you tell me my measurements."

"P-Perfect!" You cried out, moving your own hips, "S-So deep! S-So big ah~"

"Hm, good enough,"

You cried loudly as Miguel's pace finally fasten. His dick slamming against your cervix, causing you to cream and suck his cock more. Your body shaking as your juices started to stain your floor. Miguel grunted as he pulled you closer, reaching his own high.

"Want to watch me fill this pretty little pussy?" Miguel groaned. You nodded,

"Yes!"

Lifting you back up, Miguel held your legs open. His had you staring in the mirror with him, watching your own fucked out expression contort in pleasure. You gasped as Miguel pinched your clit once more, watching you cum against his cock once more.

You cried and leaned back, but Miguel kept your face towards the mirror. You gasped and moaned as he slapped himself once more inside you, filling you with his cum. Both of you took a minute to catch your breathe before Miguel set you down,

"Are you alright? Let me clean you up," Miguel said worriedly. You grabbed his hand,

"I may have forgotten your measurements."

"Oh?" Miguel said with a low chuckle. You glanced up at him, cheeks red with embarassment,

"I think I need a reminder."

"As many times as you need."

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

I'll take his measurements any day. I mean hope you enjoyed!! Haha

[ahhhwomen]

Mom, I'm tired.

Vampire Empire

Part 2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You just want to rest.

Word Count: 1.4k

You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?

Why can’t you move?!

The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.

There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.

Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.

Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.

That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.

It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.

 

You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.

You can’t even do that.

You don’t want to die.

Not like this.

You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.

But-

There is nothing you can do.

Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.

Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.

When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.

She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.

As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.

You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.

You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.

You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.

Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.

Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.

That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.

Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.

She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.

She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.

Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.

Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.

“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.

Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.

However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.

Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.

Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.

It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.

Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”

Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.

Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.

Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.

Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.

So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.

“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.

And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.

It sounded wrong.

Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.

It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.

After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.

Mom, I'm tired.

[yesimwriting]

How do you think Lestat and bestie!reader would get along exactly? Like, how Lestat views her and their dynamic 😪

I'm so glad you asked this omg. I have a few Lestat drabbles/asks in the drafts that explore their dynamic, but they're not ready yet, so here's some character analysis.

- - - -

Lestat initially hates bestie reader with the intensity that Armand wants to hate her with.

In Lestat's defense, let's look at the Louis and bestie reader situation from his perspective. He openly gives Louis his space for 77 years, and then when he reunites with Louis, the person he's most infatuated with isn't the man Louis has built a life with for nearly 8 decades, it's a random mortal girl. And then Lestat has to read a book all about Louis in which Louis discusses that girl and him for more or less the same amount of pages (Daniel was fs messy about the chapter distributions).

Also, Lestat has to read about Louis, who has been grappling with the implications of the dark gift since the very beginning, discuss how excited this random mortal girl made him about his existence.

I believe that the murder attempt straightened Lestat out in some ways. The fact that Louis and Armand came to him to basically rub their relationship in his face and Lestat was just like 'cool' shows a level of restraint that pre-lobotomy Lestat would have never been capable of. So, I don't think he's as jealous or as villainous to bestie reader as he would have been in the early 1900's. So, instead of trying to kill her, he's just very snarky about things.

Now, in bestie's head, Lestat is a villain. Louis couldn't tell reader much about Armand's actions for her own safety, so he just told her about every bad thing Lestat has ever done. Also, the fact that Armand is no longer going to be around has put bestie in an unreceptive mood (for obvious reasons), so she really doesn't want to understand Lestat. She doesn't want to like him.

She's also feeling a little insecure, because the second Louis leaves Armand starts telling her about all of the people Louis has let himself lose for Lestat. (Armand definitely brings up all the ways in which Louis let Claudia down in order to stay with Lestat.) So, for the first time ever, bestie doesn't feel like a priority in Louis's life.

When they do finally meet, there's something about bestie reader's anger and general disposition that reminds Lestat of Louis. He only sees it for a second, but it's enough for him to almost get the point of her.

However, when bestie immediately clocks him and hits him with a completely snarky and accurate read, Lestat is like 'no, I won't be doing this <3'. When Louis lets Lestat know that he will, in fact, be doing 'this' because she's not going anywhere, he dislikes her even more.

To her face, Lestat swears he doesn't need her approval, but also...his life would be so much easier if he had it. So, when Louis asks him to try to get along with her, Lestat is going full Lestat charm offensive. Not even in a romantic or sexual way, he's just being the fun, likable version of himself as a way of 'tricking' bestie reader into liking him.

And, because it's hard to not like Lestat when he's in likable mode, he does start to crack the ice a little. I can see them discussing certain theatre productions and pop culture. They'd also bond over teasing Louis about not wanting to go out to clubs/parties with them...but most of the time, they end their discussions with a flat reminder that they're not friends. (don't tell armand about this, he'll wait for the UV to hit 11 and then go outside)

It's important to note that bestie reader mainly starts giving Lestat a genuine chance because of how badly Louis wants her to. I believe that since early on in their friendship, Louis has secretly been dreaming of Lestat and bestie reader meeting.

I also think that in some ways Lestat and bestie reader are similar, which complicates them further. Lestat looks at her and sees the positive impacts he might have been able to have on Louis if he had been a little different. Also, I think something about her presence would remind Lestat of Claudia, which uneases him further. Bestie reader sees the true extent of what Louis is willing to forgive when he loves someone, and I think that makes her more wary of how she treats Louis.

In short, they're basically 'Girl, so confusing (ft. Lorde)'. Let's hope they work it out on the remix.

[raineandsky]

#139

“Let him go,” the supervillain growls.

The hero is smirking at him from where she’s holding the villain in a vice-like grip. “Or what?”

The supervillain lurches for the hero and she swings easily out of the way, pulling the villain with her like he’s nothing more than a flap of fabric she simply doesn’t want the supervillain to tear.

The villain can’t say he’s used to being manhandled. He can feel the heat burning on his face as the hero’s hold on him tightens, a hand clamped possessively on his arm as she turns back to the supervillain with a shit-eating grin. The supervillain probably thinks he’s just embarrassed about being caught, and he’d rather keep it that way. The supervillain doesn’t need to know that the villain’s kind of into this.

The hero laughs, bright and loud, and the villain can’t help but admire the confidence. “Your attempt to save your poor comrade is commendable, [Supervillain], but I think I’ve earned this catch,” she says, the arrogant smile clear in her voice, “haven’t I, [Villain]?”

The very thought of their little battle is very clear in the villain’s mind. This certainly isn’t the moment to remember how she grappled with him, and definitely not how she so easily flipped him onto his back.

Maybe she won because he didn’t mind losing to her, but he’s not saying that out loud. He just nods to avoid opening his mouth and letting out any telling sounds.

“You don’t earn my friends,” the supervillain snarls. It’s almost animalistic, this protectiveness. The villain’s finding he doesn’t mind that either. “Now let go.”

The supervillain leaps for the hero again, and she’s so busy preparing her cocky response that she realises too late. She moves out of range, but the supervillain grabs a hold of the villain and pulls him to safety.

The villain practically trips into him with how sudden it is. The supervillain wraps an arm around him protectively, his hold tight, and earnestly asks, “are you okay?”

The villain’s mind is running at a million miles an hour. He thought it was bad enough having a thing for his sworn enemy, but this is different territory entirely. “Yeah,” he manages, though it doesn’t come out as much more than an embarrassing squeak. “Yeah, fine.”

The supervillain nods, once, short, and returns his gaze to the hero. “You’re messing with the wrong guy, [Hero],” he snaps coldly. “Let’s put an end to this.”

The villain can’t say anyone’s ever fought over him. But the supervillain and the hero clash, their insults spat over who deserves him, and he can’t help but revel in it a little. He knows he should help the supervillain—they could bring the hero down together, the two of them, a team—but he’s barely in it anymore. The adrenaline of it all, of the fight and whatever the hell is going on with him right now, has worn him out.

The hero leaps for him before he even realises the pair’s fight has swung in his direction. The supervillain grabs a hold of him as the hero’s blade rests itself against his neck. The three of them stand like that for a moment, the villain painfully aware of everything: the supervillain’s hands, hot on his sides, the hero’s glare intense and cutting. Her chest is heaving slightly, and the supervillain is similarly panting a little, his breath warm on the back of the villain’s neck.

It’s a little much, being in the middle of all this.

“I can arrest him,” the hero offers lightly, “or I can cut him open right here. Up to you.”

“I’ll tear your head clean off before you get the chance to do either,” the supervillain says, his voice grating.

“Uh,” the villain starts haltingly, “do I get a say?”

“Do you—” The hero looks at him like he’s lost his mind, like the idea that he decides what happens to him is crazy. “You know what, yeah. Sure. Would you like to be arrested or would you like to die?”

The supervillain scoffs, but his grip on the villain tightens in a way that’s more telling than words would be anyway. Protective, possessive. Wanting the villain to choose him because that’s the obvious choice.

And the hero, her blade speaking of her need for him in a way her eyes are carefully guarding. A need for him to be in a cell, sure, but he wouldn’t mind if she were there, or if the supervillain was there to blow the wall clean off it and help him escape.

He wishes he hadn’t said anything. It’s a surprisingly difficult question to answer.

The villain laughs, the sound too nervous. “You can arrest me if it means you’re putting me in cuffs and bending me over your car.”

The hero’s face contorts into something that’s not entirely disgust, and the supervillain takes the moment to pull the villain out from under her knife and kick him into a run.

It’s a miracle they get away. The supervillain eventually shepherds the villain into a dark corner of the city to check him over, looking for any signs of injury, his hands gentle against the bruises blossoming under the villain’s clothes.

“Good distraction, saying that to the [Hero],” the supervillain says with a laugh once they start on their way again. He pats the villain’s shoulder proudly, a smile warm on his face. “Really threw her off.”

The villain’s not sure how to say that his little distraction was practically a true statement. That, or that he thinks the same thing of the man walking next to him.

The villain has a lot to process after tonight before he says anything stupid like that, though. So he nods with a light smile and simply says, “Thank you for coming for me.”

“You know I always will.”

And it’s thankfully late enough that the darkness around them can hide the villain’s blush.