#madame cult leader

[idaoftheburningmind]

‘You were his to protect, above all else.’

How I went from baby-girl-had-a-dildo-and-a-plan to sobbing into a pillow, wailing for my panther, pretty much sums up my relationship with this series, and just about all of Chelsea’s stories.

Because it’s maddening how she writes and we yearn for things we didn’t even know we wanted, like Billy Russo transforming into a panther and presumably crushing the marrow of whoever took the Reader’s necklace.

Someone had dared to hurt you, and thought they were capable of getting away with it.

Billy needed to send a message.

One that would not be misunderstood.

First of all, that declaration is sexy af. Second, how dare you make it sound sexy af @becauseicantthinkwritings

This is the hurt-comfort trope I would sell a kidney for, where the aloof partner rips apart whoever dared harm their beloved, their mate, that one person on this sad, sorry earth that they’ll ever be soft around (in secret). Yes, I’m on my knees and I’ll take more of that, please.

“You’re… not…just a panther, are you?”

We badly, very badly, want these two to be together (and, for the love of god, finally fuck), but Chelsea is telling us to be patient, more patient probably than we’ve ever been. We might be forgetting that there is more than one hunter on the prowl, and Billy has yet to find out just how much closer he’ll need to keep watch.

Teeth

Part 9!

Werepanther!Billy Russo x Female Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, implications of murder.

You twitch your toes, waiting till there's a knock on your door.

Blinking, you open it carefully, trying not to fiddle with your fingers as the anxiety threatens to overwhelm you.

"Thank you for this." You say, looking up at Billy, before looking away.

He's dressed in his work clothes- suit and tie, looking at you so carefully that you feel like he can see so much more of you that you'd care to admit.

"I'm glad you called." Billy says, voice low, taking a step back to let you lock up, "Didn't like the idea of you trying to go down there alone."

You let out a dry laugh.

"I tried, but I just couldn't do it." You say to him.

"You look like you haven't slept." His voice is gentle, like a welcome hand on your back, rubbing circles to calm you.

You smile sadly at him.

"I haven't- I- I can't-"

"It's okay, we'll figure it out." Billy says, reassuring you that nothing you're going through is abnormal in any way.

You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you." You say, trying to express your earnesty, glad to have someone as understanding as him with you.

His car is... sublime.

Gorgeous, sleek in its aerodynamic design.

You're not too familiar with car models, but you catch the BMW logo on the front of the black car, smiling as he opens the passenger door for you.

You settle yourself in, admiring the supple interior, and the simplicity of it.

"Honestly, this is not what I thought you drove." You confess to him when he climbs into the car.

The engine absolutely purrs to live, revving beautifully, tingling your eardrums with the low sound.

"What did you think I drove?" Billy asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

It suddenly made you aware that you may have been about to tell him you thought he was extravagant.

"Okay, I just realised what I thought you drove made zero sense and I would like to retract my comment."

He grins at you, deviousness leeching out of his every pore. It makes you simmer with delight.

"No way, tell me."

"Well, I thought someone like you- CEO of a company that is- drove what other CEOs of companies tend to drive."

"An Aston? Lamborghini? Ferrari?"

"All of the above?" You supply with a light hint of an apology in your tone.

He laughs, and the sound is nothing short of divine. You wanted to memorize the funniest jokes just to hear him laugh again.

"I'm not that ostentatious. I run a security company, being unseen is my ally, and luxury cars like that are just impractical."

"I guess that makes sense." You mumble, deep in thought.

"But I have to admit that I did buy a Royce the first year my company lifted off."

"Of course you did." You tease lightly, with no malicious intent behind your words.

He gives you a little lift of his shoulder.

"It's the little things sometimes."

How easy talking to him was, so very dangerous in so many ways, you were always just two steps shy of flirting with him. He made talking to him so simple, made you forget about ever being anxious in the first place.

You were definitely in trouble.

.

"That's it?" You asked when the officer returns your bag to you, informing you that the items were left behind when the suspects realised they were being chased.

"What about my jewellery?" You ask, heart squeezing in your chest.

She gives you an apologetic shake of her head.

"Jewellery is usually a lot harder to recover, it might have already been pawned off. We'll keep an eye out, but I wouldn't get my hopes up."

Your heart sinks. You nod, thanking her before turning and walking back to a waiting Billy.

"I got my laptop and wallet back." You murmur, avoiding his dark eyes, trying very hard not to cry in front of your boss.

"That's everything?" He asks, "Do you want to go home?"

You swallow, nodding quickly and walking past him.

You hold this awful, rotten feeling inside of you all the way back to his car, but when you get in, and you close the door, the tears refuse to be ignored any longer.

Billy says your name with concern when he notices you crying.

You let out a shaky sob.

"I'm sorry." You whimper, pressing your face into your hands to hide from him as you weep pathetically.

It takes all of a second before he's pulling you against him, your bodies at an odd angle to allow you to fit against each other with the centre console of the car in the way.

"What is it?" He asks, "What's wrong?"

You lean against him, hands gripping at his bicep in an attempt to pull comfort from him.

"I knew the odds of getting the necklace back but I was hoping it wouldn't be true." You start, reaching into your bag and finding your packet of tissues hidden in the lining.

"I just- I know it's not that important in the scheme of things but-" you sigh, "-I really loved that necklace."

"It is important. If you loved it, then it's important. Don't lose hope, you can still get it back." Billy tries to soothe, his warm breath on your cheek, so maddeningly close.

You cry against him a little bit more.

"It just made me feel safe. After- after every terrible thing that happened. It made me feel like I was being protected by something much bigger than myself. But-" You shudder out a sad breath, "-not even that is true."

His arms tighten around you.

.

He wants to make so many promises to you in that moment.

Billy wants to promise that he'll do everything he can to keep you safe, that he's here no matter what. He breathes in your scent and squeezes his eyes shut and hates that he'd given someone the opportunity to lay their hands on you.

His sweet girl didn't deserve this, and Billy was going to do everything in his power to get you that necklace back.

You were his to protect, above all else.

.

You fall asleep on the drive back to your place, a sudden bout of traffic turning the ten minute drive into thirty minutes.

There's just something about being around him, that slows every rushing thought in your head, you find yourself so relaxed in his presence and before you know it, you're asleep in minutes. The events of the last two days have taken a toll, and you sleep so deeply that you don't register a single thing.

You don't wake, not even when he picks you up, scooping you into his arms so easily that you would be amazed if you weren't asleep.

He places you in bed, tugging your shoes off, before dimming the lights.

You only truly wake up, when you hear your bedroom door open, an indication that he was leaving.

"Billy." You call out for him, fighting to sit up, rubbing one eye to regain your focus.

He's paused at the door, looking back at you.

"Can you stay a little longer? Just until I get to sleep?" You let out a little sigh, "I've asked a lot of you already, so you can say no, I won't hold it against you. But I just-"

"I get it." Billy says, interrupting. He turns from the door, moving confidently to your bed, and carefully placing himself on top.

It's kind of hilarious, he's still in his finely pressed work shirt and pants, having shed his jacket and tie at some unobservable point. If you were more comfortable with him, you would have insisted that he change before lying beside you.

But your level of exhaustion is too great to worry about anything, not lying in bed beside your boss, and definitely not moving closer to him till you're almost touching but not exactly.

You look up at him with sleepy eyes, and he carefully raises a hand to your cheek to brush some of your hair out of your face.

"Thank you." You murmur, taking his hand in yours, pressing the warm appendage to your chilled cheek.

You can't help it in your sleepy state, curling closer to him, head resting in the crook of his arm.

"Just five minutes," you try to reason with him as if he's protesting in any kind of way, "Just until I get to sleep."

"I'm here." He says softly, as you drift off in the depths of his scent.

.

He stays for an hour after you fall asleep, trying very hard to talk himself into getting up and leaving.

It's just that you look so at peace, your head resting on his bicep that is half asleep with the loss of circulation.

The beast purrs, subdued, inside of him, eager to look at you, and be near to you, though he knows he shouldn't stay.

He's not taking advantage, he doesn't want you to even think he was capable. Billy has spent years curating a steady hand on his self control, only to have you rip right through it like its paper in five minutes with your bare hands and a sweet smile.

What would an eternity of this feel like? He wonders. How often would he find himself lost in your strawberry scent if he could?

His mouth waters.

He shudders in a deep breath.

You hum, drawing closer to him, he swallows when your palm connects with his clothed chest.

His eyes fall on the scratches at your neck, he tilts his head, studying it with careful eyes. He memorises the look of them, the way they make him feel. He latches onto the emotion, plants a seed of rage inside himself, watered by the beast's thirst for retribution.

Someone had dared to hurt you, and thought they were capable of getting away with it.

Billy needed to send a message.

One that would not be misunderstood.

.

You wake up alone.

Groaning angrily after a night of such peaceful sleep only to wake up and realized that he'd left just like you'd asked him to.

Was it too much to wish that he'd stayed? That he couldn't help himself and fell asleep beside you?

Of course it was, and it was a very dangerous, no good thought.

He was your boss, he was in control of your salary, you shouldn't be pining over him like some lovesick puppy.

The lines between personal and professional had been painfully blurred since the moment you'd started working for him, maybe even before, and yet still you wished it would blur farther.

What would waking up next to him be like? Hell, what would seeing him asleep be like? Would the harsh lines of his face soften till you couldn't tell his age? Would he make little sounds as he slept?

And then the scariest thought of all comes to mind.

Did he even want that with you?

Probably not, considering that he's left your 'Thank you again for last night' text on fucking read.

It was worse than not reading it. It had been hours since the read receipt was activated and yet still, he hadn't responded.

Maybe he was busy, you try to not let it get to you, deciding to go through your laptop and see if anything was tampered with in the meantime.

You still find difficulty in leaving your apartment. You try for hours, sitting at your open front door in an attempt to get used to the idea of it.

Everytime you try to leave your heart starts racing, your body shakes, all you can think about is what terrible fate would befall you next.

Thankfully, after a quick call to your therapist, she suggests starting smaller, with an open window.

It's how you end up on your balcony, sitting next to Dani's gift, soaking in the sunlight.

This was nice, this was good, outside was not something to be scared of.

But facing Billy's home- just reminded you of him.

Still left on read, you drop your phone angrily.

What did you want? A romantic relationship with him? That wasn't sustainable at all. You should definitely just avoid him, the way he was no doubt avoiding you.

Your hand spreads over your bare throat and you let out a sad sigh.

You wished you could feel safe again.

When night comes, you can't sleep once more. There's no Billy here to put you at ease, nothing to make you feel safe and warm and protected. The worries in your head are too loud, there's an agony to not being able to relax in your own home.

Amy is sympathetic to your plight, staying on the phone with you as long as possible until she inevitably falls asleep, and you're left alone once more with a world of thoughts.

You hadn't gotten any other type of communication from whoever had taken that photo of you. Had they given up? Or lost you after you changed both your address and your job?

Something in the back of your head, maybe fear, or just past experience, told you that things probably wouldn't be over that easily.

A sound catches your attention, as you gaze off into your room deep in thought, echoing through the apartment before it reaches you.

You raise your head, your heart pounding as you realise it's coming from the front door.

Was someone trying to break in? You reach for your phone, trying to be as quiet as possible as you climb off your bed.

Who should you call? Billy? No, it was 2am you should see what it was first.

As you get closer, you register that it sounds like soft scratching, a very strange sound for a potential thief to be making.

"Hello?" You call through the door, perplexed at the sound.

When there's a low rumble back at you, you take a deep breath and unlock the door quickly, pulling it open with a rush.

You squeak in surprise.

Midnight black fur, golden brown eyes looking up at you.

The panther, sitting patiently at your door.

"What the hell?" You say in disbelief, taking a step back, hands covering your mouth in shock.

There was a large beast sitting at your door.

The panther, somehow taking this as an invitation, stands, and walks slowly toward you.

You can't believe it, was this a prank or had you gone insane? How had a dangerous animal of this size gotten into your apartment building in the first place?

You step backwards as it approaches, taking slow steps as if it's somehow trying to put you at ease.

Your body smacks into the side of your couch and you stiffen as it gets close enough to touch you.

A soft head bumps against your thigh, your mouth parts with shock at the greeting.

There's a little purring sound it makes as it rubs its head over your thigh gently, eerily similar to what it did the last time you encountered it.

Last time...

Before it had saved you from a knife wielding serial killer.

"It's you." You say, in absolute surprise, your body building a strange cocktail of shock and calm inside of you.

The panther rumbles in something akin to agreement as if to say, 'yes, hello again.'

You reach for the large cat, shaky hands smoothing into the butter soft fur on its head, after a moment, when you realise there's no immediate threat, you let out a laugh of surprise.

It closes its eyes, nuzzling easily into your palms.

"Hey pretty boy." You murmur eagerly, speaking to him in a light tone that you can tell he loves based on the way he continues to purr, a deep vibration against your palms as you bring your face closer to his to rub your head against his affectionately.

He pulls away after a second, and you watch with an open mouth as he casually walks his way deeper into your aparment.

You move to follow before remembering that your front door is still open.

After hastily shutting your front door, you follow after where you saw him last, finding that your bedroom door has been pushed open at the end of your hallway.

There you find the large predator, lying on your bed.

You approach a little cautiously, very confused about what was going on.

He drops his head, and from his mouth, something shiny and gold falls onto your bedsheets.

The panther looks up at you eagerly as you move closer to investigate.

It was your necklace.

You gasp, reaching for it, picking it up to examine the little pendant eagerly, a little symbol of the large beast in front of you, dangling from a delicate gold chain.

You don't hesitate, clasping it around your neck excitedly before moving to your little vanity to examine yourself in the mirror.

The panther had brought your necklace back.

The panther... was in the city with you.

You turn to study the predator on your bed, and it looks back at you in kind, its tail twitching in what you assume is contentment on your bed.

How had this panther gotten all this way without being caught? Had someone trained it to bring this to you?

You tilt your head, and blink in astonishment when the panther also tilts its head to mimic you. When you straighten your head, it does the same.

You didn't think this was just another trained animal, there was something in its eyes, an understanding that you weren't familiar with.

You were probably going crazy, hallucinating, or maybe this was a dream.

You look down, counting your fingers. Not a dream.

This was real.

There was a real panther in your bed.

Or was it?

"Can you... understand me?" You ask, almost absurdly to the animal.

Its answer is to flop onto its side with a big huff.

"Is that a yes?"

Another huff of breath.

You approach the beast slowly, sitting at the edge of your bed, reaching out to touch one big paw, its fur so soft you're almost addicted to the way it feels.

"You're..... not.... jut a panther are you?"

A flick of its tail, the flex of its paw to show off the very sharp claws hidden between toes. You retract your hand at the sight of such a deadly appendage.

"Are you... also a human?" You ask, aware of how certifiably insane you sounded.

What other explaination was there? How had a panther brought you back a necklace? How had it known how to get to you?

The beast takes a deep breath, letting out another sharp huff.

You gaze away for a long time, your brain scrambled with too many thoughts, too many rushing ideas and reactions.

After a second you look back into its golden eyes.

"That was a yes?"

A huff.

You gulp, turning away, sitting at the edge of the bed trying to process the information given to you.

Shapeshifters? Shapeshifters were a thing?

"Oh god." You say, almost sick to your stomach at the implication.

As if it senses your distress, the panther crawls closer, and rests its large head onto your lap. Automatically, you raise a hand to stroke its head. Almost immediately, an arrangement of soft purring starts up, its eyes closing easily..

You can't help smiling, hands roaming over its ears, watching them with amusement as they flicker and twitch.

"You're kind of cute." You say to it- to him.

His response is to let out a soft sigh.

You observe him, admiring the way he looks, eyes drawn to the peek of teeth jutting out from his mouth.

"You're kind of scary too."

He peeks an eye open to look at you.

"Will you show me who you are?" You ask.

It's the wrong thing to say, because the panther's response is to pull away from you.

He stands on your bed, giving you his back and lying down facing away from you.

"Message received." You mumble.

You sit and stare at his back, raising your hand to touch the pendant around your neck, thinking quietly about everything.

The situation is absurd, beyond that even, there's no words to describe what you're going through. You can't seem to figure out why you're so calm, as if there was a puzzle piece in your head that has always been there, but just sitting in the wrong spot.

Now, things are just clicking into place, making more and more sense, but also showing you a side of the world that you didn't even know existed.

You feel your body overheat with the amount of thinking you're doing, you're not sure how you can even continue to exist with this knowledge-

You don't even realise you're unable to breathe until you wheeze out a gasp.

The panther, hearing just a single sound of distress, turns to face you quickly.

The bed dips as he stands and approaches.

"It's a lot." You whisper, looking up at the predator, tears blurring your vision.

His furry head bumps your cheek, an attempt to soothe you through your little freak out.

You feel him nudge you into a reclined position, and you let him, because you're too caught up in your shock to process anything really happening around you.

The panther grips your duvet in his teeth, and pulls it up till it covers your shoulders.

Slipping under it beside you, you study your hands intently, your focus.only breaking when he pops his furry head as close to your face as possible without touching.

You pause your self destructive thinking to study him, hand automatically trailing from the top of his head down his back.

It calms you, and after a few moments like that, you suck in an easy breath.

"You saved my life." You say to him, watching his ear twitch as you glide your hands over them. He doesn't react, merely looking at you while you're deep in thought.

You rest beside him, eyes drooping involuntarily, trying to stay awake and memorise the look of this animal in your bed with every sense you can.

"Thank you." Is the last thing you whisper quietly, voice just above a whisper, burying your head into his neck, admiring the silky feeling of fur on your cheek as you drift off right to sleep.

When you wake up in the morning, you almost think it was all a dream. That is, until you raise a hand to your neck, and you feel the warm gold necklace dangling from your neck.

Maybe you weren't as unprotected as you thought.

.

.

.

[love-of-the-red-star]

Halloween Special: The “Bellboy”

Summary: Planting the seeds of freedom always entailed a violence in some form, and while you’d rather resolve it passively like you used to, people are difficult. Cult leaders even more so.

Aka you play the classic game of pretend like in Sigonia IV— this time you’re not a woman, but just a boy.

(Excuse my fuckass art)

“That won’t do, Mr. Wood.” The young boy with wine red hair stated, almost bored, twirling a lock of wavy hair between his fingers as Gopher Wood winced.

There’s blood on his fingers, there is warmth on his chin, and his eyes sting.

“Oh tri—“ Not even another syllable was uttered before he’s shushed by the boy.

“I wouldn’t recommend trying to force that method to go through. It. Won’t. Work.” He told him as a matter of fact, the older man fell down his knees as the throbbing inside his head worsened. “Any more than what you’re doing now and you’ll disintegrate— oh wait, it’s already starting.”

His hands are melting.

“I don’t like having to force people to bend to my whims— that defeats the purpose of what I exist for. Unfortunately, I think you’re too far gone.” The boy’s words are muffled as his ears started to ring.

Louder and louder, til the boy’s words are faint.

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected. I cannot save everybody or make everybody happy, and I tried giving you a choice and this is what you chose.”

Gopher looked up, and in what little logic he could grasp amidst the pain and disorientation, he saw the boy’s expression morph to one of remorse.

Genuine, pained. As if he was regretting this choice.

Gopher knew he’s saying more words, but the ringing in his ears are louder than the boy’s soft voice.

Then everything grew silent.

——————————

On a good summer day, Gopher Wood appointed the hotel another bellboy.

Right around Sunday’s age, he’s lean and reliable and good, albeit awkward. Sporting wine red hair and forest green eyes, he is not a bad sight to see around his child.

He called himself “Millicent”, a name strangely feminine for a boy but oddly suiting to his appearance.

It’s strange though— Gopher swore that he could see something just a tad bit off about him if he squinted or looked close enough, but whatever that imperfection was, it’d be gone in the blink of an eye.

He frowned, brows furrowed as Millicent attended to the new guests, charming and endearing enough that he knows the customers would keep asking for him next.

No one noticed anything wrong aside from him. That, or maybe he was getting old and his senses are starting to fail him.

“Good morning Mr. Wood.” Millicent cheerily greeted him, eyes bright and happy and smile sweet. Gopher returned his greeting in kind, albeit calmer and more composed.

“How was your day here, child?” Gopher asked, subtly glancing at the way the boy drummed his fingers against the luggage he’s on the way to tow off to some guest— Gopher remembers it to be an influential woman, who thankfully immediately took a liking to the hotel and the whole of Penacony.

“It’s fine… the young Madame— our new guest has been kind and gave me a souvenir.” The boy cleared his throat mid sentence, then played with a lock of his red hair between the pads of his fingers, not looking Gopher in the eye as his expression became bashful.

“Oh?” Gopher’s curiosity was piqued, he had his fair share of stories of guests liking his servants, but he’d like to check for this one just in case there was anything inappropriate happening.

“She gave me a cake!” The boy blurted out. “S-sorry sir, I couldn’t say no….” He began to sweat profusely, like a child getting caught taking cookies from the jar in the night. Gopher doesn’t mind, not really.

Happy workers meant a happy environment.

At the very least, the boy was safe and there was nothing inappropriate happening. He’d hate for the child’s eyes to dim, so very full of life much like his children, Robin and Sunday….

He dismissed his own musings and bid the boy goodbye so he could head to his duties, leaving the redhead behind.

Gopher could have sworn he saw the boy look at him coldly before he disappeared from his line of sight.

——————

It started small, with the lights flickering in the hallway and the way his lamp would refuse to turn on.

Millicent’s little smile had been particularly tight that day, nervous if anything else as he approached Gopher with care, seemingly afraid to anger him.

“The young Madame from room 107 said there was red in her sink.” Millicent blurted out, and Gopher frowned in response. “Then the person next door’s…. I don’t know the details, but the medics said the flesh under his skin turned into wire.”

Ah, Gopher remembers that guest— an unpleasant fool, a particularly difficult customer that couldn’t be pleased with the means provided to him in reality.

Unpleasant customers aren’t uncommon, but they’ve taken a silent approach ever since the incidents began a few days prior.

That’s why Millicent stood before him, detailing what had happened as he had asked the boy and the other staff to inform him of anything and everything since the strange occurrences.

“Wire?” Gopher carefully pried, and the boy nodded quickly.

“I only overheard it, but they said his muscles looked like the cables you’d see in an electrical room.” Millicent fiddled with his fingers, brows furrowed as he refused to look at him in the eye. “Oh and…. Some of the stuff that mister had used turned to mud.”

There’s a slight hint of satisfaction inside that statement that Gopher would have missed had he not been listening intently. It doesn’t matter much, although it is amusing that this boy was trying to hide that little glee of putting a man to his place to himself.

“I see.” He hummed. “How are you faring? And how are the others?” He asked, putting his hands and slotting his fingers neatly against each other. For a moment he thought he saw his green eyes dim, the shadow behind him morphing into something that didn’t look quite right.

Gopher blinked, and the image is normal again.

“I’m okay, just a bit surprised, that’s all.” Millicent trailed off, and Gopher sensed this to be a lie. “It’s not everyday you witness people have their flesh turn into cables and furniture turning into mud and hearing your coworkers scream— s-sorry! That was out of turn.” It was not, but the boy apologized anyways. “My coworkers…. They’re okay, they’re scared though.”

Gopher keenly observed him like a bird as he curled in to himself, before he cleared his throat and dismissed the boy— another member of the staff coming in right after him.

Something’s not right, and he doesn’t know why.

Whatever it was that was wreaking havoc in the hotel was not in the words of the Order, or part of it. Whatever it was, he’ll find out soon enough.

It was just too bad that he didn’t get to see the way Millicent grinned after he left the room seeing his turmoil.

There’s a reason why people say ignorance is bliss. Too bad that’s not a luxury that Gopher Wood will be granted with.

—————————

It had been Robin who began to suspect first.

“Father, something’s wrong with that boy.” She began, looking up at him with worried eyes as her halo thrummed.

“Which one?” Gopher asked, keeping that tranquil smile on his face as he focused his attention to his beautiful daughter.

“The one with red hair..” she trailed off, and he immediately knew who.

“Why is that? What makes you think something is wrong with him?” Gopher felt that he knew of the answer already; from the way that his image would distort, fade, or appear as if it was just… a puppet made of flesh emulating a mockery of human emotion. Halovians were particularly sensitive to people and their emotions… but that boy, he felt as if he wasn’t even a person at all for something that appeared so expressive.

“He feels—“

“Wrong?” Gopher’s smiled widened by a fraction and Robin was disturbed as her father finished her sentence for her.

“Yes.” She said. “Every time I try to know what he’s feeling, I get nauseous. Like I’m experiencing too many things at once.” She frowned, her worries deepening at every word she uttered. “It felt like I was peering into an animal and not at the same time.”

Gopher was silent, choosing to listen to his daughter tell him more. Now that she brought it up, Gopher began to reflect on the times they’ve interacted. He shouldn’t come to conclusions yet, if he wanted answers, it must come from the boy himself.

It was a little early to speak, as it was Sunday’s off handed comment that hit the nail on the head.

“I spoke to one of the bellboys the other day and one of them told me to stay off the 5th floor in the 11th room.”

That little comment had Gopher pause in his work. That was the exact same location where some of the more unpleasant guests he housed resided, and where another recent incident happened.

Unpleasant people couldn’t be avoided, and even they were welcomed by Xipe’s arms. Still, he thinks it must be a form of retribution for all the evil they’ve been doing. A way of enacting Order. Still, it is improper, unclean.

“What time did you speak to the bellboy?” He slowly spoke, and Sunday replied as precisely as he expected.

“3:44 in the afternoon.”

The incident happened an hour after that.

“And who did you speak to?”

“A boy named Millicent.”

Gopher smiled, the fine line of his lips tight as his eyes closed. There is a strange tranquility in knowing who may be the one starting this now, and while Millicent appeared harmless, Gopher knew better than to trust outward appearances.

“Are you alright, father?” Sunday asked, and Gopher shot him an affectionate look— one that was proud, one that was relieved.

“Yes, yes I am.” He said. “Will you call on that boy for me? There is something I need to speak to him with.”

Sunday frowned, but nodded hesitantly as he left for the door.

He has questions he wants answers to, and that boy will give him what he wants, whether he’d like to or not.

————

Gopher was a little irked to see the boy act nervous as he entered the office.

“I assume you know what you’re in here for, Fool.”

“I don’t understand what you mean, sir.” Millicent shuffled his feet like a guilty child, feigning innocence.

Gopher Wood’s halo thrummed. “Speak, and cease your deceit, I will not be fooled twice, Fool.”

His halo glowed, and suddenly the boy grinned. “Playing that cheap trick, I see.” His voice was no longer shy, and he now stood differently.

“Well played, but too bad you’re wrong.” He said, sighing. The clock ticked ominously in the background as the bells signaled the passing of time. It is midnight.

“I’m no masked fool— although you’d send AHA laughing with you assuming I’m one of their own.” Slowly but surely, the layers peeled. With the glow of his halo, Gopher no longer saw a child.

“What would you be if not one of them?” Gopher inquired. “You caused chaos in this world— one that is unwelcome.”

“Pfft, tell that to AHA. They’re the one who requested I make my little entrance a bit entertaining.” The boy rolled his eyes, making air quotes at his last words. “ Anyways, you’re asking for what I am if not a masked fool— well, I’m something else, maybe a friend.” The boy stated. “Also, don’t mention them too often or they’ll hear you.”

“What of it if THEY hear?”

“You don’t want to know, just know that the Order isn’t here to protect you.” Gopher froze at his words. “You know, as much as I do actually appreciate Ena for what they represent, it’s you lot that are nuts in the head for bringing people down with you.”

“But… yeah.” He drawled, rather ungracefully. “If you’re nice enough to follow along, I got one request. Just one.”

Gopher narrowed his eyes, but listened to “Millicent”.

“Back off of reviving a dead Aeon and grooming your kid for Ena. You’re building a cage for them, not a paradise, Pathstrider of the Order.”

How did he know that? How did the boy know?

“You wanna know how I know you’re not Xipe’s? Is that what you’re gonna ask?” He grinned, and it’s one that looked as if he was relishing in the disbelief. “I smell Ena on you— nah actually you reek of them.”

“You’re rubbing off that smell on Sunday too— poor guy, just groomed by his own father for an Aeon that’s already served it’s purpose.” The boy’s voice started to sound a bit more grating to his ears now as he gritted his teeth. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna expose you, that’s why I’m here to ask you nicely to fuck off.”

After that, Gopher laughed.

“You expect me to follow along?” Gopher wheezed. “My life’s work.. you expect me to give it up just because you are asking me to?”

“Yeah, I don’t like unnecessary trouble and deaths— maybe except for the people that caused trouble for the staff. In my defense, they were asking for it.” Millicent shook his head, as if disappointed.

“I thought you were a reasonable man— as much as I don’t like to say this, you are a pretty decent parent, grooming your son aside.” He looked at Gopher in the eye. “So, will you back off? Or will you continue to play into being a dead god’s puppet?”

Gopher only smiled, his halo thrumming as the boy frowned.

“Last warning, don’t try to sear me using the light of Xipe, it’ll spell pretty bad—“ he didn’t get to finish his sentence as Gopher Wood uttered the words that he thought would punish the boy and smite him forever.

“Oh triple faced soul…” His vision started to distort. Was the room always this strange looking? “Please sear his tongue and palms with hot iron…..” his voice was starting to grow distant, and so he stopped.

The feeling of his head was starting to return to him, though it took moments. His halo did not stop thrumming.

“So that he will not— ARGH!” There’s a sharp pain, one that he couldn’t quite describe as his neck stiffened.

“That won’t do, Mr. Wood.” The young boy with wine red hair stated, almost bored, twirling a lock of wavy hair between his fingers as he winced.

There’s blood on his fingers, there is warmth on his chin, and his eyes stung.

What on earth was happening?

“Oh tri—“ He tried again, but not even another syllable was uttered by him before he’s shushed by the boy.

“Man, you’re stubborn, I’ll give you that.” Millicent shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to force that method to go through. It. Won’t. Work.” He told him as a matter of fact, the older man fell down his knees as the throbbing inside his head worsened. “Any more than what you’re doing now and you’ll disintegrate— oh wait, it’s already starting.”

His hands are melting.

“I don’t like having to force people to bend to my whims— that defeats the purpose of what I exist for. Unfortunately, I think you’re too far gone.” The boy’s words are muffled as his ears started to ring.

Louder and louder, til the boy’s words are faint.

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected. I cannot save everybody or make everybody happy,” Millicent sighed, tired. “I tried giving you a choice and this is what you chose.”

Gopher looked up, and in what little logic he could grasp amidst the pain and disorientation, he saw the boy’s expression morph to one of remorse(?). At least it looked to be remorse.

Genuine, pained. As if he was regretting this choice. Then saddened.

He knew he’s saying more words, but the ringing in his ears are louder than the boy’s soft voice.

Then everything grew silent as his body disassembled into familiar, horrific looking shapes.

The grandfather clock ticks. It’s 3:06 am.

————————

Hey guys I’m back!!! Sort of suffering from writer’s block rn but here’s the sort of Penacony chapter! I pulled this out of my ass so it’s not very good— might edit it and add more scenes later on but enjoy this absolute word vomit.

Thank you for the support! Love you! And happy Halloween <333

[captain-sharkie]

Alright everyone, it's time, hope you guys enjoy a little introduction to this AU! if theres any questions the ask box is open!

Reblogs are appreciated <3

Story under the cut!

Chapter One

Warnings, Blood mentions,

Word count : 1321

A whirring noise hummed through the trees at the lamb rushed past, running through Silk Cradle from a large spider, clutching their arm as they heaved, their legs aching as they ran

Normally the lamb could easily vanquish such a foe, but now? Absolutely not

the spider sprayed acid around the ground in front of the smaller lamb, stopping them in their tracks as the creature cornered them, others following suit

The lamb took a deep breath, closing their eyes as leaves rustled, the wind howling through the area as footsteps approached,

louder, and louder they got before screams rang out amongst the arachnids,

the lamb slowly opened their eyes, wincing before letting out a sigh,

“You always show up at the perfect time…” The lamb sighed, a chuckle rumbling ahead of them, as an ax wielding goat stood before them, wearing a light blue poncho in contrast to the lamb’s red one,

“At least yaint dead Lambert.” The voice spoke, a slight accent to it with a smile.

“What can I say? Wouldn't be the first time.” Lambert hummed, wiping the dirt and blood off,

The two were silent for a few moments before giggles rang out of their mouths,

“What’re you even doing out here?” The goat hummed, the ax slowly fading back into a small crown on top of their head,

“Gathering silk, we’re all out back at the cult.” Lambert spoke bluntly, summoning a large back, “I was just on my way back home actually… before all that.” Lambert huffed,

“Mind if I come along?” The goat asked, the small teal eye of the crown atop his head stared down at the lamb

“Uh… sure!” Lambert shrugged, holding out their right hand,

The two of them closed their eyes as Lambert chanted softly, the dead, gray grass around the duo lit a flame in a white light, consuming the two of them before it burned away, leaving a black ring in the ground beneath where they once stood.

Now stone laid beneath them, a pentagram drawn in dried blood beneath their feet as lush green grass ran through the area

The goat took in the sights, as Lambert took a breath, “Feels good to be home.” dragging the goat forward as worships greeted their leader,

“Oh by the way… goat?” Lambert hummed, The goat just tilted his head, “What's up?”

“Actually… What do I call you? you never told me your name exactly.”

“You never asked.” The goat sighed

“Oh, well…”

“She normally calls me Kidd, if that helps at all.”

“Who?” Lambert raised a brow,

Kidd just groaned, pointing at the crown upon his head as Lambert just scratched their head, mumbling an apology,

“Uh… Leader?” a small dog follower walked up to the two,

“Yeah? What's wrong Thorm?” Lambert asked, concerned.

“Leshy threw poop at Hans while you were gone.”

“Again? Seriously?!” Lambert groaned, Kidd just put a hand over his mouth, holding back a laugh as best as he could.

“Go ahead and wait for me in the temple. I gotta go put Leshy in jail… again.” Lambert groaned, running off

“Oooh-kay.” Kidd hummed, walking towards the temple, watching the grass beneath his feet move as he walked, the sun beamed down, bright and shining amongst the land.

The door to the temple swung open before Kidd could grab the door’s handle, two small kids running out cackling like witches, one chasing another with a wooden stick, dressed as the Lamb.

“Well that sure says something about this place.” Kidd chuckled, walking into the temple and sitting down on the ledge by the podium.

“Hmph… you would think his chosen vessel would be… better at this whole cult thing.” spoke as the crown flew off of Kidd’s head, judging the temple they stood him,

“Madame, give them a break.” Kidd sighed, watching the crown closely inspect the place, “Lambert is new at this whole cult thing.”

The crown huffed, “Suppose so.” floating back, resting in Kidd’s hands,

“Still, glad to know I’m better than him at raising a leader.” The crown chuckled,

“Madame, what happened to being nice? I thought you were kind to mortals and gods alike?” Kidd teased, chuckling as the crown scoffed,

“Child, if you ever catch me being kind to anyone from The Land of The Old Faith, Behead me.” The crown’s eye closed, the ethereal voice from it huffing,

“Who are you talking to?” a scratchy, deep voice spoke from a dark corner, The crown was quick to shut up as Kidd let out a soft bleat,

A figure in white and red robes stood, face veiled with a dark silky fabric,

“No one of importance to you, Death.” Kidd huffed, placing the crown on their head once more,

“Oh, but I believe it is.” Narinder spoke, crouching down as he stood next to Kidd, “Who is brave enough to bad mouth me, as well as Lambert?”

“Curiosity killed the cat y’know.” Kidd spoke, grinning as they looked at Narinder.

Kidd rolled his eyes as the door to the temple swung open, Lambert groaned, walking in, itching their head,

“Oh, Good to finally see you two getting along!” Lambert smiled, as Narinder stood,

“Guess you could say such, Lamb.” Narinder walked off, leaving the temple.

The Lamb sat in the middle of the floor, tossing the bag of silk on the floor, as well as four needles,

“Why are there so many?” Kidd pointed at the knitting needles on the floor,

“Thought you’d wanna help!” Lambert smiled as Kidd shuffled onto the floor, sitting across from Lambert, picking up two needles.

The two of them sat on the creaky wooden floor, turning silk to fabric, and fabric to carefully woven shirts and robes.

“Sooo…. Kidd, why did you wanna come back here with me?” Lambert hummed, raising a curious brow,

“Well…” Kidd sighed, setting the needles down, taking off his crown and gently placing a few shirts on top of it.

“I… I need to speak with you, Narinder and the Bishops.” Kidd sighed,

“Oh! I could go get them-” Lamb quickly got up as their hand was grabbed by Kidd,

“Later, now is not the best of times.” Kidd spoke, motioning to the crown next to them shaking around under the shirt.

“Oh?” Lambert furrowed their brows sitting back down, “I will be here all night.” Kidd huffed

“I do not want any prying eyes watching.” Kidd huffed, removing the shirt from on top of the crown as it flew back on his head.

“Oh! wait let me go check something.” Lambert hummed, standing up as they ran outside before Goat could ask what.

As the door closed an ethereal voice cracked from the crown once more,

“What was that?” spoke the crown,

“What?” Kidd asked, sewing a shirt together.

“What you did!” The voice cried, “Communication was put on pause and I wish to know why Kidd!”

“Oh bah! I only set the crown down briefly!” Kidd groaned, “Must of been interference again, I am rather far from home, aren't I?”

“...You are correct about that…” The voice mumbled, the crown’s teal eye squinting at the goat, circling around their head, yet Kidd held a carefree expression.

“...The eye of this crown makes you look so much larger than you are.”

“What-?”

“You are so small you could fit in my palms! yet you look grown in the eye of this crown.”

“Madame. I’m not a baby.”

“Yet you still are my little Kidd, are you not?”

Just then, the door to the temple swung open, Lamb stood in the light once more,

“Five!” They chuckled,

“What?”

“Five hours until my disciples and I have dinner, you wanna join us?” Lambert spoke,

The crown’s pupil went up and down in a nodding motion,

“Yeah, sure thing Lambert.” Kidd huffed,

“Good! I’ll make extra food then, for now…” Lambert spoke, sitting back down,

“Let’s finish these clothes.” Lambert smiled.

[idaoftheburningmind]

I am… or I was having the worst possible day in the worst possible week and then @becauseicantthinkwritings drops this beautifully lethal thing and suddenly I have a pulse again.

Which will probably be my undoing, given the setting and the incredibly hot club owner ( @marvelmusing this moodboard is perfection btw and I’ll let you know if I end up chewing on a bar stool…)

“You think you might hate him.

You think you might be obsessed with him.”

Oh, I know I’m obsessed with him. Like I told Chels, I’m his good girl, even when I don’t know it.

Vampire Club Owner!Billy Russo

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Breaking down the comics: BEMIS. Part 4

READING THINGS SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO! 

Part one is here. 

Part two is here. 

Part three is here. 

Issue #197.

Oh look! Burrows is back! …It’s a sad day when that makes me happy. Which means that this is going to start to get gore filled again. Yay. 

I'm going to be perfectly honest here... I didn't finish the Bemis run. When it first came out, I was so pissed off after a while that I stopped reading. 

I can't remember which one I stopped at, but I have a strong suspicion I know the point it was. 

So you guys? We're going to be surprised by the ending together! 

Anyways... 

Back to the moldy bread factory we go. 

We start with three cloaked guys (very cult looking) and five other guys. 

The five other guys all sit down at a stupidly long table. 

The leader welcomes them all. "Welcome to the Bi-Annual Feast of the Societe des Sadiques. You have been chosen--Selected--from a vast pool of candidates. Having proved your loyalty, your zeal, and your passion." 

Oh good... Let's see who we got this time. Bemis seems to like to put in strong stereotypes and then just make fun of them unfairly. 

We start with a photographer dude with thick glasses and a bit of a sad stubble face. 

Then we have a female drug lord and executive level madame. I have no idea what that is, but she's stressed up in a 'little black dress'. 

Then we have someone that is just listed as having 'a particular distinction, even in this group' and he's in a Guy Fieri flame shirt. 

Lastly we have a shirtless man with tattoos and piercings all over him and a green mohawk. "A tattoo artist, body piercer, and reality television mogul". 

So be prepared to have Bemis give them all incredibly dislikeable characteristics. You ready? 

Cause this is a group dedicated to "Sadism, in all its shapes and forms." 

We are going to get a look at what Bemis considers extreme sadism as well as people that find it not only enjoyable, but also get off on it sexually. 

And I will take the stance that I have nothing against consensual sadism. Every fetish has a time and place as long as everyone involved is enjoying themselves and also has safety in mind! 

Bemis isn't going to do that. He’s only going to show the bad side. And try to make it edgy. 

The leader asks the four others to tell them how they came to 'know and practice your fascination with the pain of others'. 

We start with the photographer named "Liberation". 

You see him as a teen getting into photography. Specifically the early 2000s in New York at the "coked-up rock shows". We see him taking pictures at a punk rock show, taking pictures of a couple making out in a dingy dirty corner of the club. Then we see him taking pictures of a passed out person in a toilet stall that has ODed on probably heroin cause there's a needle next to them. 

I'm not showing this. 

"I photographed my first cadaver in 2001." 

He talks about fashion photography that was run more like a frat party. How popular he got and how "brand" he was. 

Despite all this, he felt his true calling was in death photography and that he was sure that there would be people interested in "black market photography." 

"Snuff Couture". 

For those that don't know, Snuff films are films that feature people dying. Many of these films have been proven to be fake death films that are very violently acted and very real looking. On the dark web, there ARE real films out there. It's...Don't look this up. I grew up in the beginning of the internet and remember the unsafe place it used to be. I've seen things I shouldn't have seen. Don't look into this one. 

So he was killing people and taking pictures while he did it then selling it to other people that 'taste'. 

The group claps and they move on to the next person. The drug lord, Lyla. 

She talks about how the mafia isn't what it used to be and that the chinese economy and triad was edging them out of jobs. 

"What was going to be a straight-up assassination of the head of the Triads could have turned seriously messy when his wife and 2-month-old child turned out to be home at the time." 

You see a bunch of dead guys and a woman holding a baby. They shoot the woman and you see a happy baby covered in blood. The baby is Lyla, who apparently got adopted by the Mafia after they killed her parents. 

"See, it would have been some kind of weird fairy tale if I was brought up by the mafia don who ordered the hit. My life would have been a walk in the park. But when they stole me, they entrusted me to Daniel DeCriscio, also known as "the deathbringer" in the press for being, at the time of his death, the most prolific and brutal hitman of all time." 

Apparently he taught her exactly where she was from, made her fight on the streets for her food, and she wasn't allowed to sleep or eat till she trained with him. 

"I learned to kill before I wore my first bra. And so I did. Kill, that is. A lot. I think I was nearing triple digits by the time I was 20. I was good. I rose through the ranks." 

She eventually became his replacement assassin and murdered her 'father'. She became a 'Made Man' (not how it's done but that's a mafia lesson for a later time). She slowly killed off the leaders until she became the main leader. 

Badda bing badda boom. 

Next guy is "Sol". The Guy Fieri shirt guy. 

"Well, I started out by lobbing grenades in public places and running away. No particular motivation besides...throwing a cog in the machine. The weird thing is, they never caught me." 

This is called terrorism. 

"So, I went on to start murdering random women from 1999 'til the present." 

This is called misogyny. 

"They didn't catch me for that, either. I guess I made the cut because I'm the only living man who's been both a serial killer and a mass murderer." 

Not true. Not true at all. 

The group claps. 

Lastly, we have "Tilt" the tattoo guy. 

Wanna know how I know Bemis has no idea about tattoo culture? 

The way he depicts the tattoo parlor. 

You don't show up to 'watch people work'. And a topless lady? This would be done with a privacy screen and people wouldn't be gathered around like that taking pictures. 

Tattoo artists, PROPER ones are actually very protective of their work. If they designed it, it's their art. Doesn't matter if it's on your body, it's still their art. 

We see depictions of 'outrageous' piercings. Some of which are medically unsound. (A piercing that goes on the underside of an eyelid? Yeah, have fun with your corneal ulcer). 

Then he did a tattoo show. We aren't going to talk about the controversial tattoo show who I won't name here. Just know... It's not well thought of in a lot of circles. 

He got rich and "Being rich made it so I could have whatever I wanted. And all I ever really wanted....Was to pierce someone to death." 

Uh huh. 

So we see shadow images of bodies with outlandish piercings (Which, not all of them would actually cause death... I've seen people with some of these piercings). 

He brags about perfecting the art of 'hurt'. 

He then tosses in a completely unnecessary background. It's just not needed. He should have ended it with the images of the piercing. This is just over explanation of things and bad writing. 

"See, I came from nothing. Grew up in pretty horrible circumstances. I was already mad then. And once I had money, they started treating me different. Like now I was finally worth something. That made me even madder. So now... I get even." 

Why is he shirtless here? Why when you have a heavily tattooed and pierced man do you always have them be shirtless? Is it a macho thing? Wear a shirt! You have to protect your tattoo from the sun! They're going to fade and get shitty! 

Anyways, the group claps. 

One of the hooded figures sits down with the group. 

"Woo-Hoo! Another classic. I love how not dark this whole thing is!" 

Lyla is offended by the hooded guy sitting next to her. 

"What do you think you're doing? Do you know who we are? You're barely fit to serve us booze." 

"It was pretty good, though, right? I heard this wine pairs well with psychopathology." 

"Get out of that seat, trash." 

"Well, the thing is, Lyla, you charming flatterer... I'm actually here for the induction ceremony. I'd like to throw my hat in the ring." 

He takes off his hood and....

I hate this art. I hate so much about this. 

A sadist. Making Moon Knight into a sadist. Specifically Marc. 

Marc is not a sadist. Marc hates how violent he is. He hates his anger issues. He had issues in other runs with…murdering the bad guys… But I don’t think Bemis knows what makes a sadist. 

A Sadist is NOT someone out to watch others be murdered, be out for revenge, or tossing grenades and running away. 

According to the dictionary… “Sadist: A person who derives pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from inflicting pain or humiliation on others. “

They bask in other’s pain. They cause pain and enjoy witnessing the pain they are causing. 

So... Moon Knight assures them that "No, no! I'm not $%#& with you! I really am! I mean, yeah, I got into what I do to save people's lives. I'm a good guy. But I was messed up as a child and ended up with Dossociatve Identity Disorder. LIke, there are other people living in my head. People cope with mental illness in different ways. 

Rather than become a bad person myself, I decided to start professionally beating the snow out of evil criminals. It's basically my job. And you have to start enjoying your work or...what's the point? 

That broken part of me is made of bleak, pitch-black fury. So, the blood-spray and bone breaking... I won't lie, I enjoy it. I look forward to it, sometimes. Hard to admit, but it's true." 

I HAVE SO MANY PROBLEMS WITH THIS. 

He is implying that mentally ill people are inherently violent. 'rather than become a bad person'. He says that he has people living in his head (as if he is the house owner and they are paying rent!?) and rather than become bad, he had to chose to fight crime. 

That his trauma, his illness, his everything means he was going to fall down the same path of evil. 

DID DOES NOT MAKE A PERSON EVIL! I know so many systems and they are all such kind and wonderful people. They are traumatized. They are in pain. They are doing what they can with their lives and NONE of them are bad people or violent or evil! 

Marc carries on. "So, I'm going to hurt every one of you. Hurt you badly, if you don't cooperate. And yeah... I'm going to kind of really, really enjoy it. Did I make the cut?" 

The other henchmen open fire on him. 

Just as things are about to turn into a brawl, someone else enters, telling them to stop. 

"The masked man is not to be harmed. At least...Not yet. I knew this day would come. In the exclusive circles I run in... The threat of your existence, as well as your true identity, are a known quantity." 

He's not exactly ever been good at hiding his identity, but Bemis keeps saying "my exclusive circles know you well!" Who the hell are these circles? Is there a MK watch group out there? I wouldn't be surprised.

Oh good. They're playing coy banter. 

"And I knew you'd know And that one day I'd find you. Why do you think I'm here?"

And the new mystery figure tells him that he's arrived in time for the ritual. 

Then he gives Moon Knight a hug that no one is happy about. 

"[...] You've earned a personal invitation...courtesy of your Uncle Ernst." 

Oh good. The Nazi is back. 

And that ends this absolute trash of an issue. Nothing happened in this episode. We got people doing their best to be VAGUELY scary or menacing then had them immediately be upstaged and then an old Nazi showed up that looked weird and gave Moon Knight a hug. 

ISSUE #198. 

Alright, intro! Oh look, the blurb has updated. 

Why is the society of sadists in French? French doesn't automatically make things authentic or fancy. 

The Societe des Sadiques. "A secret group of uber-sadists" is meeting up for some biannual feast for their new inductees. Moon Knight shows up, on the hunt for their 'mysterious leader-Ernst, the Nazi who Marc witnessed torturing a man in his synagogue as a child, the traumatic event thta fed into Marc's dissociative identity disorder." 

I hate that I had to type that sentence. It was long and badly worked and also just... I feel so dirty. 

"Now Ernst can follow through on his ultimate plan..." 

Oh for cry out loud... 

I don't even know where to start. 

So... We have Ernst addressing his audience, made to look like he's talking to the reader. He's got a little Moon Knight toy and he's wearing what looks like a purple jester collar. 

I'll show you in a second because I want you to appreciate this. 

He's gonna monologue for a solid minute or two. 

"And so our drama begins, dear audience. In which a flawed hero is tested. His already dubious moral standing called into question Is he man, or is he dragon? Today, the societe des Sadiques will tease out the essence of his core." 

So are we supposed to forget the fact that he's an ACTUAL Nazi? 

Here's the problem. Now Bemis is going to try to turn him into a modern day villain that's worse than the Nazi he was. 

And you can't do that. You can't take an original Nazi that admitted to atrocious crimes against Jewish people and then put him in America as the head of some murderous sadistic cult. That doesn't make him worse. He was already as bad as he can get. This feels like a step backwards and almost like you're apologizing for him being a Nazi in the first place and trying to explain it away. 

If Bemis tries to make it about Ernst having a terrible childhood to explain his sadistic needs to be a jew torturing/murdering Nazi I swear I'm going to lose it. 

"I confess...There's a part of me that wants to see him escape this spiritually unscathed. But this is our GAUNTLET. Where the contenders for entrance into our society are made to discover just how truly merciless they are. 

In the end, they'll face one another, and if they can live up to that...Then we shall bless them." 

What on earth is he talking about and why should we care. Bemis sure loves his long pointless exposition babble. 

"As for our Little "Surprise" guest...I can only say his arrival has been anticipated. Call him a Pet Project. 

If I were a betting man... I'd bet that what we are about to witness...Is the birth of a monster." 

Uh huh. That's disgusting. Why was this needed? Ew. 

And now we have Moon Knight on some sort of light runway with people in masks all around clapping. 

Why is this all so bad? 

Oh no. Here we go. Here it is people! What you've ALL been waiting for. 

You've heard us talk about it in passing. "Don't read Bemis. Rabid Dolphins". 

YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. 

And now here we are. 

I give you... Rabid Dolphin: 

As someone who has spent an upsetting amount of time studying Rabies… I have a LOT of questions. But I’m just going to move on. I don’t want to give this more brain power than I need to. Because what’s about to happen is upsetting enough. I’m just going to apologize for making you witness the rabid dolphin incident. 

In this next part it's called "Second trial Man vs. Inhumanity. 

I don't even know what is happening here. YOu've got some sort of paper mache room? There are animals in statue paper mache and some big guy that's covered in paper so only his head is visible. 

Marc walks into the room and finds a newspaper article on the wall. The paper man yells at him and tells him not to read the paper. He's pissed that he's there and swears up and down that he knows people that can make his life a living hell.

Marc reads the paper. "Sickening 'torture farm' raided by FBI. Jess Ebidiah, 38, implicated in what may be the worst case of animal cruelty in the history of California." 

Uh huh. 

Marc takes out a moon crescent and it just says "Trial passed." 

Third Trial: "Man vs Himself". 

This is where I just get angry. The dolphin hurt my head and made me tired. Now I'm seething. 

So you see a guy in a weird outfit that looks like a cross between the punisher, a luchadore, and a gimp outfit. 

He introduces himself "Greg Salinger, AKA Foolkiller." 

He's a crime fighter that is also a licensed Shrink. 

What does that mean? Is he a therapist? A psychologist? A Psychiatrist? What the hell does 'SHRINK' make him? What credentials does he have? Not all 'shrinks' are trained in how to handle all problems. Some specialize in PTSD, dissociative states, or other things. Not all are equiped to handle D.I.D. 

The man addresses Marc by name and tells him that the cultists are forcing him to do this under threat that his family be killed if he doesn't 'assess' Marc. 

Marc takes a seat at the couch and the shrink asks what Marc did to the man in the last room. 

We don't get to hear the story, but in the next panel "Three minutes later" we see the therapist trying not to vomit (that's professional). Even the cultist guy with the gun on them looks shocked. 

This is a cope out. Bemis wants us to think it's some unfathomable horror that can even make the therapist vomit. 

"Marc, it's my opinion that you suffer from certain...OTHER chemical--and Personality-based--Disorders outside your clinical diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder. See, I know what it's like to want to stop criminals from hurting people, but...The sort of actions you describe suggest a pathology that...Marc, has anyone ever spoken with you about Bipolar II? Or the spectrum of Personality Disorders relating to Borderline thinking?" 

PAUSE. MAJOR PAUSE. 

As I noted off the bat in part 1. Bemis is Bipolar. Self diagnosed or professionally, I'm not here to question it. If he says he is Bipolar, then he's Bipolar. 

He's attempting to Move Marc into a position he can self identify with. Which, unfortunately, moves him away from DID and into a different area that Bemis can claim to now be an expert on and therefore no one can question him. 

There's a major problem with this. It DOES take him away from the spectrum of DID that exists and forces him into another one and also putting all these negative traits he's given to Marc onto Bi Polar people, making the audience start to associate all these terrible and dangerous things with them. 

It ALSO is taking away from something called System Accountability. 

This is something that is learned in systems and it does take time to trust in the system for it to work. It also involves a heavy amount of intersystem communication. 

It means that if someone in your system is an asshole, the WHOLE system is responsible for making sure that this asshole gets help as well as attempts to NOT be an asshole. 

It means that no one is out there beating their spouse and claiming it was 'the bad alter'. 

Even deeper, it means that they have developed a fail safe to protect the body. If someone is hurting the body or putting it at risk, the rest of the system can take charge and make sure that person is no longer given access to the body until they are able to get help. 

You only get one body and you have to share it. This takes time and trust, but it is something I've seen done. 

We've seen it done in the MacKay run when Steven forced control away from Marc so as not to cause them further trauma. 

UGH. 

UNPAUSE...

"All very common. These things don't ever make you a mean person. On their own they in no way imply... But the MIX... You've got a heady mix, there, champ. And it's pretty apparent someone hurt you very badly at some point. The thing about it is...

I think you need to admit to yourself that your need to hurt people may go beyond just wanting to protect others. An addiction to sadism isn't anything to scoff at...Or frame with a pretty costume and make disappear. I'm sorry, Marc. You have to start thinking of it like...A nearly incurable disease." 

NO. NOPE. Not even remotely… This is SUCH a cope out. And why in each run does Bemis have an ‘epiphany’ moment with Marc realizing that he’s a terrible person and having to go on some inner journey down some path where he realizes the bad guy is right? 

The therapist babbling about some sort of ‘mix of personality’ issues… ANd ‘incurable diseases’. Ableist shit. 

What Marc has is trauma. Extreme trauma coming from more than one person or place in his past timeline. He hasn’t learned how to handle his trauma or how to connect with people. He views himself as deserving of his trauma. Thus, he views himself as a bad person or thing that deserved what happened to him. He’s also incredibly angry about it and dealing with generational trauma being placed on top of everything else! 

This is a fact. This is coming from the Moench/Zelenitz run. In the Lemire run he takes it a step further and deals with Marc’s fear of attachment and abandonment issues. As well as his uncomfortable realization and acceptance that he has DID and he has to learn to communicate and talk to Steven and Jake and they have to work as a team. 

Putting ALL this on MARC alone is not okay. Treating it as some sort of horrible disease and blaming his violent tendencies and ‘insanity’ on a chemical imbalance and on his DID is just… I want to beat Bemis with a DSM book. 

"Third Trial completed. The Hero is crowned a Prince of Death." And we see him being dressed in cult robes by guys in moon knight like masks. I don't even know anymore. 

Even though we see them clearly fitting him and measuring him in PURPLE, in the next scene he's in a fully new and fixed up white Moon Knight suit. Who knows. 

….I don’t remember this next part. I honestly think I stopped reading the run at the dolphin bit. Oh no. I thought I got further than this. There’s still two issues left. Oh no…. Did I skim the rest out of frustrated rage? You and me, dear reader…We’re going to get through this together. We got this. 

Fourth Trial time. "Fun with Morpheus, Dream Eater." 

YOU. HAVE.GOT.TO.BE.KIDDING ME. 

I'm gonna... I'm going to punch something. 

That's not Morpheus. And Marc knows how to handle Morpheus. This isn't what Morpheus DOES. 

"That's for that time with the thing." 

BEMIS DOESN"T EVEN KNOW WHO MORPHEUS IS OR WHAT HAPPENED. He's just throwing him in because he thinks he can mess with Marc's mind! 

Morpheus is a DREAM maker! He attacks with 'dream waves' because he himself can't sleep or dream. 

So we go to the inner world where we see the boys all in gladiator and medieval armor in ruins. 

Steven: "I thought he said he wanted to handle this himself." 

Khonshu: "He is holding onto a grip that is...Tenuous, to say the least." 

This is bullshit. 

This is not how his system works. 

this is not how they work. 

See current MacKay run to see how they work together when they are attacked psychically. 

He also went ahead and gave them 'roles'. 

Steven is "The Mind", Jake is "The Robust Undercarriage". Khonshu is "The Spirit". 

Then we see a fourth blank space, probably reserved for Marc?

So... Fifth Trial. "Royale"? 

We see him just fighting the four other guys from earlier. 

His outfit looks purple here. Maybe it was supposed to be purple in the other image and they got the shading wrong. I don't know. I hate this art. 

Moon Knight has zero trouble dealing with these 'sadists'. "Trial? Nah. Spanking" it says. 

You see, these guys aren't fighters. I don't know why they think they are or Bemis thinks they should fight MK. 

They are sadists that enjoy picking on the innocent and incapacitating their victims to torture them and kill them. The only one that knows how to fight is the assassin, and all she does is stand there with a gun shooting him till he punches her out. 

Marc stands over the bludgeoned members of the cult and yells at a camera. "Ernst. I get the damn point. I'm ready and I'm yours. I've always been %#^& YOURS!" 

I would like to remind you that Ernst is a Nazi. 

Steven in the background says "I...I can't do it anymore..." 

Khonshu tells him to "Let him go, Steven. He will not let our traits serve him now. That duty falls to...the other." 

Ernst calls him 'my son' and invites him in. 

"Trial 666." clever. 

"The entire society, though not present tonight, has been anticipating this moment for a long time. I knew eventually when you were ready, you'd track me down. I knew the seeds I planted would bear fruit, my little...First-round pick." 

Bull shit. Marc was not supposed to find out about Ernst. He told Marc not to go to his office till much later and he wasn't expecting Marc to find his hidden place in the basement. Then he ran off and didn't confront Marc again. This wasn't 'all according to plan!' I HATE when the bad guys do that. There was no plan. It cheapens the value of the surprise of the hero finding out in the first place! 

We see a very TIRED and broken down Marc as he follows Ernst into the back room. 

"All it took was the careful manipulation of your...Friend...Jake Lockley's undesirable "sources". I always saw something in you. Now you must see it in yourself." 

Are you kidding me. Is he going to blame this all on Jake? 

Jake the Most Jewish Part of his System?! The one that speaks Yiddish and openly presents himself as Jewish?! 

Ernst walks Moon Knight down a long badly designed hallway with pictures of members. You see some guys in Nazi uniforms from WWII and various other guys that we don't get close up pictures of. Because Bemis lacks imagination...or Historical knowledge. 

"Choice one. You fight us. ALl of us, our full might, focused soley on you. You almost assuredly, will not make it back to see your daughter alive, nor save her from me. Two. You abstain. I eliminate your child. It would take a wave of my hand. Only your value to me has prevented this so far. Or THREE. Complete the ritual. Become what you were MEANT to be, beside me, forever." And he gives Marc a picture of Diatrice. 

Oh. Oh wait. No. I remember this now. Fuck. I had completely blocked it out of my memory. Fuck. I have regrets. 

I’m going to need a minute and I advise that you all take a minute too. 

This…This is worse than I thought it was. Worse than I thought it could be. 

EXTREME TRIGGER WARNING: Racism. Nazi idealization. Race wars. Implied child harm. 

This is bad. I can’t stress this enough. We’re about to talk about some really fucked up things. 

I am going to… very carefully…sensor this. It needs to be talked about. This didn’t age well. Especially with the way things have been going for the past several years. 

So please… tread carefully and take care of yourself. If you need to nope out, I respect that. If you have had enough and need to just stop and go “Yeah. Bemis was bad. I’m glad I didn’t read that” then do it. If you need to know, then let’s continue. 

***************EXTREME TRIGGER AHEAD*****************

So Marc turns to the door after he's locked in a room with his choice on what he has to do. 

Fight them all (which I don't get how this is a choice because we know what Marc can do. But the threat of him losing and them going after his daughter is there.) Surrendering and losing his daughter. Or becoming one of them and doing 'what needs to be done'. 

He turns around to find out what his next task is. 

I don't want to draw this out. I really don't. Bemis does. It does it because he wants the impact of what his choice is to hit you hard in the stomach. 

And it does. It hits VERY hard. But not in the way Bemis wants it to. He thinks he's being clever. He thinks that he's set it up so that Marc has been pushed too hard and realized like he did with the Sun King that the villain is right and he has to do it. 

So he wants the reader to think the hero has given in and might actually do it. 

This is BAD writing. 

Instead, the way it comes across is scary. It's fucking scary because of the current climate. Because of all the things that happened in 2020. Because of all the things happening now. 

I'm so angry right now. I'm angry and hurt. 

I'm going to just TELL YOU what the choice is then I'm going to back track and show you the lead up to it. Okay? 

*****He wants Marc to murder a little black girl*****

Backing up. Let’s…Let’s just take this a panel at a time. 

Marc sees the 'choice' before him and he reacts with disgust. 

And we finally see Jake speak up. He's been pretty quiet this issue besides lurking in the background. 

And knowing what Bemis does with Jake and what he obviously thinks of Jake... You're about to see why. And Bemis probably feels like he's being so clever and doing some sort of redeemed character arch. Only the character he tarnished himself and now is trying to make better? 

"Being your dark side" 

I'm so angry. 

I don't even have the energy to explain it. I've been explaining it. If I haven't gotten through to you yet... 

"And now you won't even...To save her life? Sometimes horrible decisions have to be made when Nazis get involved." 

This is how the holocaust got started. 

This is why no one stood up against them when they saw and then denied and refused to acknowledge what was happening. 

"You think I want this to have to be my call?!" Jake is yelling at Marc. 

Marc shuts down and curls up in a little ball on the floor. 

"I don't wanna. I don't wanna. Ah God... Dad... Dad, where are you? He made me... I saw..." 

So we see Bemis' version of a PTSD type of flashback shut down. 

I can't say if this is accurate or not because everyone is different. I've had shut downs before. Both silent and a few with some sort of pleading similar to this but never to anyone in particular.  So sure. Close enough I guess. 

In this shut down, we see Steven, Khonshu, and Jake standing there watching. 

None of them move to comfort Marc. 

Jake "take that as 'feel free to take over until I grow a set of STONES, Jake'" 

I'm frowning so hard. 

Jake pops up in the body, complete with full mustache. I guess it was in his pocket? Even though he is wearing a whole new outfit? 

"Hi, my name is Jake. Don't worry about anything. Just be...Just be very still." 

The 'choice' pleads with him not to hurt her. 

"God in heaven, I'm sorry. I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this!" 

Yeah... Ignoring all the other issues... There's also a major flaw in the religious talk here too. 

Jake stops and drops his crescent dart. "I don't want to do this." 

Ernst is displeased. He thought for sure Marc would do it and join him. Because...I don't know. I have no idea. I just... Maybe I'm not filled with enough self righteous rage to be able to think like a Nazi? 

He tells his people to "Clean up and move out. This is over". 

And we get our first look at the girl. I'll let you judge how she's portrayed. 

It’s pretty clear that he asked for the most innocent young looking version of a black girl he could get. Even gave her the pigtails. 

Before he can do anything, the room opens up to show them in the middle of a forest clearing surrounded by cloaked guys. 

A large airship shows up. Moon Knight prepares to fight all these guys. 

We get TWO quotes. 

Now... Keep in mind that this run has been about Nazis. 

So do we get a quote from that time period? Or a quote about the evils in the world? 

Nope. 

"The Killing was a means to an end. That was the least satisfactory part." -Jeffrey Lionel Dahmer. 

The serial killer, Dahmer. The one that was a sex offender who killed and dismembered a whole lot of young men. He then ate and performed necrophilia on them. As well as turning parts of them into things like lamp shades and thing... 

Dahmer was diagnosed with Borderline personality disorder, schizotypal personality disorder, and psychotic disorder. 

I'm sensing Bemis is trying to make a parallel. 

Next quote? 

"A psychoneurosis must be understood, ultimately, as the suffering of a soul which has not discovered its meaning." -Carl Gustav Jung. 

Back to quoting JUNG. I have a lot of issues with JUNG's philosophy Especially when it comes to his views on the nature of personality and roles and how they can often be wrongly attributed to D.I.D. I’m nog going to get into it, but at lot of people jump to Jung in an effort to sound smart and like they know what they’re talking about even though they only ever read maybe ONE thing on Jung or heard a quote by him once and went “there’s a smart guy!” 

Anyways. This issue is over. 

Two more to go. Just two more… Then we never have to look at this bread again. 

ISSUE #199. 

Oh look. We got a new artist. Davidson. Ah fuck it's Paul Davidson again. 

Becky Cloonan did the cover. Which is why it looks so nice and lures you into a false sense of security. 

Can we skip this one? Like…. Legit… Is it needed? It is the most garbage filled issue. You thought the last Davidson issue was bad with Mr. Butterflyman and the collective? 

So... We open with Ernst in a cafe with Marc. 

Ernst is yelling at him about how there "No such thing as Multiple Personality DIsorder or whatever your legion of soft, pliable brats choose to call it these days." 

Uh huh. 

"Your trio of imaginary friends are merely extensions of your own whim. 'Mental illness'? 'Social Awareness'? Do not even get me started on the proliferated fallacies of 'queer' and 'multiethnic'. 'Me too! Me too!' SHEEP. You choose to dwell among sheep!" 

This is hate speech. I've heard it in person. I've heard a lot of these EXACT things said in person. 

He's attempting to caricature the people who make these speeches, but he's doing a piss poor job of it and it makes them come off as being 'in the right'. 

He tells Marc, who looks sad and pitiful here in this style., that he has been 'whisked away from your punching circus and shot with drugs'. 

This is what we call a cop out. He didn't want to have to write or lay out or have them draw the HUGE brawl that he lined up for us at the end of the last issue. 

So he's taken it away and put us somewhere else so we can listen to this guy MONOLOGUE for an ENTIRE ISSUE about the bad things in today's society. 

See why I want to skip it? 

He also says "What happened to the little girl? [....] is irrelevant. Fill in the blanks yourself. Hehe. he." 

Yeah... I don't like what that implies. 

He tells Marc that this is his last chance. If he doesn't comprehend what Ernst is trying to do in this last test then Diatrice dies. 

Marc starts to see a weird Cthulu thing walking by. Ernst tells him not to be distracted. 

He calls him weak and crazy. 

"I stole your heart in your youth...But this is not your Ghetto. Here I can grip it tight and squeeze." 

I take serious displeasure in the fact that he talks about Marc's Ghetto. We know Marc grew up well off in a proper home. And a Nazi using the term Ghetto to describe his growing up conditions is just poor taste. 

"Ask yourself....Did I break your mind? Or did we break your genes?" 

Uh huh. 

"We're friends, Marc. And I have seen your power. I am in need of an heir. And a young, able fist." 

Ew. 

"See. I was never a true anti-semite. I was and am a REALIST."

Are you fucking kidding me right now

"I realist offers fame, money, and power consolidated. Bargain bin vigilantes. You do not belong among them. Besides, soon none of you or your kind will matter. Du schwein." 

This is disgusting. 

You see why this is wrong, right? 

He's now backtracking from the Nazi plot line. Saying "Oh fuck. I should have just made him a cult leader from the start. But I had to use some way to traumatize his past so his being Jewish was the problem the whole time!" 

So now Marc is tripping pretty hard on the drugs and seeing monsters and demons and things. 

You can see why I’m not posting much art from this issue.

Between the art (I hate this so much) and that LONG meaningless hate speech there, there is literally nothing of merit to this issue. 

He goes on and on like this. 

I have no idea what he's talking about. He's just saying things that sound meaningful and metaphorical at this point. 

Blah blah blah "Here we can hear the fait, weak sounds of self-knowledge as our dark idea literally comes to life. Here, we taught it how to both love and despise itself. Perhaps what we created can think at this point? Like a child. AN IDIOT GOLEM who fancies itself some kind of philosopher." 

The not so subtle use of anti-semetic language is not lost on me. 

And you know what else we need more of? That’s right. Racism. 

Marc protests he won't hurt these people. 

Ernst yells at him to do it. "Make them hurt like you want the world to hurt, Marc!" 

They are now in some druggy's house. He tells Marc to look at the man deeper and see the monsters inside him. 

Marc yells out for Khonshu, Steven, and even Jake, asking for help. 

And we see them trapped in some sort of Egyptian bubble thing under Ra's eye. 

Marc rebells and Ernst kicks him in the balls. I kid you not. 

Then tells him to "Say you're nothing but an errant SLAVE." 

ANd Marc is on his knees crying and says he's his slave. 

"Say I'm the first man you ever loved." 

"You're not my dad. YOu're not my dad!" 

"Join me or she dies!" 

"I...You're the first man I ever..." 

"Ha! You are like clay! Now. Say these words. 'I am no hero. I don't deserve my own infinity. ANd today is the day I finally give up." 

NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. 

This here? This is anti-semitism propaganda. 

They believe that the jewish people think they are uppity and holier than thou and will be the rulers of the earth and afterlife. 

This is incorrect. This is Messianich teachings. And Bemis slipped it in. Didn't think we'd notice, but we did. 

Marc refuses to say it and he fights back. We see Khonshu and Jake and Steven break free and start to fight the monsters and Marc hits him in the gut. 

"Because I would rather my daughter DIE than grow up in your sick fable."

Marc tells him that he doesn't think his daughter is in danger because once the cultists saw Marc fighting back, they abandoned Ernst. 

Ernst begs him. "Stop. you don't know what it was like, Marc. In Germany. For a man like me." 

"I can imagine. My grandparents were Czech, remember?" 

It's like Bemis can't decide what to do with the story line he already set down with Ernst killing Marc's Grandfather and fleeing Europe. 

Even the art is inconsistent. 

And he heads back out to the streets and it's still covered in demons and angels and cherubs and devils and so on... 

And then he runs into "The Sun King". 

Who Bemis probably thinks is the best villain ever because he made him. What a twist. 

He doesn’t look like Jesus anymore. Why does he look like Rasputin now? Ra Ra Rasputin… LOL It’s a pun. And now that song is stuck in my head. 

You know what REALLY upsets me? 

The fact that BEMIS got a huge milestone…

ISSUE #200.

Art back to Jacen Burrows. Cover by Becky Cloonan. 

This is an oversized anniversary issue. LAST ISSUE EVERYONE. I can see the end of this endless torture and bread factory. 

Oh, Jesus is back. 

Thanks Burrows. 

Also… I have ZERO memory of this issue. I legit don’t think I read this issue so getting to the end will be a surprise to me. 

We get a flashback to them all leaving the island. 

Marc is talking to Sun King. 

"I mean it! It's a Quasi-Max asylum run by the government, and they'll put you down if you even try to escape, but...I belive you can be redeemed. Maybe. In all seriousness, you need help." 

Truth, remember him?, asks if he can go too. 

Truth legit wants to be helped. 

Ra is pretty pissy at the whole ordeal. 

We get to hear a lot of psycho babble as Truth and Ra are analyzed. 

I'm not typing all that up. 

WOW. They just attacked Asecuality too! They're just adding to the list aren't they? 

"The Truth's Asexuality a normal reaction due to being socially abandoned." 

I lied. Here's more that boils my blood. 

"...Mental Illness being both a difficult and challenging trait and a beautiful gift to be shared with others when utilized in a positive, giving way, as referred to in Dr. Lemire's seminal thesis, 'Healing, or: How to be okay with being you.'" 

At least he's getting CLOSER to what Lemire was getting at. 

We see Sun King starting to heal and also get his fire powers back. He is happy to have been paired with the Truth. They're bonding. 

Then we see Ernst bust in with his cult. He spouts things about old money buying them out and tells them to come get one more shot at Moon Knight. 

Now we are back to present times and Sun King looks weird again???

Marc tackles him in the street and threatens him. Truth tells him to stop and listen to him for a second but Marc isn't listening. So Ra attacks and burns up the cult followers around them.

Where is this going? Am I the only one that doesn’t understand where this is going now? With Ernst ‘gone’ and Sun king on his side for now and Truth doing his own thing… How are there so many pages left? 

Sun King tells Marc that Ra can go to hell because Moon Knight is a good man while he himself is not. But he was born with fire powers so he's going to "Prevent the creation of 'monsters' like me. For the rest of my life. Or I will die, trying to eradicate that dead Nazi's legacy." 

Marc tells Sun King that he needs his crew. 

Oh look. It's the army of random regular people that Marc recruited from the island. 

They all head to Marlene's house. 

Marc tells Marlene that a crazy group of Nazi sadists are coming after them so he hired the Sun King and his goons to come help protect them. 

Marlene Maces the Sun King despite being told not to. 

Marlene starts to yell at Marc about his 'weirdness' and problems and that she can take care of herself. 

Marc, Jake, Steven, and Khonshu gather with Marelne to form a plan. 

Marlene points out that she can't see or hear Jake, Steven, and Khonshu and that Marc is just standing there in silence. 

In the background we get a cameo with Dr. Emmett yelling about making Sun King Believe. 

whoopie doo. Chaos. Fun. everyone's crazy. wheeee.

Diatrice interrupts (and she is drawn very poorly and kinda looks like a frog face with pink hair. I hate this art. 

She drew a comic of them all saving the world. 

Marc is in good spirits now so he and Sun King run off to...I don't know. Things. 

And we find Moon Knight and Sun King facing the giant hover craft after it catches fire and crashes. 

The dialogue here is... It's bad. 

They fight more cultists. 

And there's a big battle scene of Marc's army fighting cultists and things are on fire and Moon Knight and Sun King are fighting... 

It's a mess of just like.... 2 giant spreads of just chaotic fighting. 

Glad they are using this 200 issue anniversary well. 

Sun King tells Marc that "you're pathologically violent but you, almost literally, wouldn't hurt a fly." 

Then we...get Sun King's LONG back story that includes things like "My past is spotty, but I know I'm from the southern states and that I was born a Christian." 

Who even asked? 

"We 'Play for the same team'. Christians come from Jews who come from...It goes on." 

It literally doesn't go on. It literally doesn't. But history. Can't be bothered, right? 

He starts talking about Atheists, magicians, witches, and beautiful people all fighting for the right to believe in anything. 

Then he goes on about "our fixation with the beauty of the Egyptian spirituality' and 'reconciling our peoples' ancient struggle and the uselessness of bigotry." 

Whhhhhhyyyyy is he still going on about this?! NO ONE ASKED. 

"Now imagine a mentally Ill "Power" whose ability was to take his own inner devastation and then force the world to believe it." 

Almost sounds like you're saying DID isn't a real thing but just a construct of the mind that is being forced on others... Careful there, Bemis. You might give yourself away. 

He tells Marc that there is a new leader to the cult. The real enermy is "The False Truth". 

And we see Truth attached to some sort of weird machine thing. Ernst brain washed him to do his dirty work. 

The Truth attacks and forces Ernst's knowledge on them. 

Here we go...Ready? 

"1935. Ernst is imbued by one of Hiler's mystical artifacts with what we will refer to as 'the blue corruption'." It infects people with 'self-created thought virus, or Meme." 

fuuuuuuuuuuuu-

"1936 Jose Mengele creates an unseen subsect of Jewish people 'Infected' by the artifact under Ernst's supervision, using his brain as a conduit." 

-uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck

"This plan is unsuccessful, but the altered children remain and disperse into the post-holocaust diaspora. 

There are images here. I'm not showing you those. They aren't good. 

1938....(the war ended in 1945. Why is he...FINE. Let's go with it...) Something about comic books with 'corrupted ink' and preserving the medium's integrity. 

1944 the war is closing. Erst is the only Nazi officer who has the corruption. His psychological devastation and personal history cause the corruption to turn into a sort of Venom? 

Marc concludes that this all can't be true because then he can change what happened too and still have all his friends and be married to Marlene and have been there for their baby's birth.... 

This is false logic and I have no idea what he's talking about. 

Marc tells him that he's too crazy to fall for Ernst's memories and truth. 

They tell truth that the blue goo Ernst was injecting into him is making him crazy and aggressive. 

Truth attacks them Moon Knight and Sun King again. 

Things are said... Bad things. 

They argue back and forth in an attempt for Truth to get them fighting. ...I'm not going to waste my time on what they said. Just know that it's poorly informed crap and more stuff about Jews being slaves to Egypt. 

Then....Jake... sorta takes over? He attacks truth, smashes up the machine. He yells that he's "a Jew too." Then Khonshu attacks him too.... 

Then Moon Knight declares he is "No Man's Slave" and breaks his arm. 

Marlene shows up? She yells at Sun King for a bit. Threatens to mace him if he ever goes near her kid again. 

Sun King sticks up for Truth and notes that "allowed himself to have his mind warped by abusers." He offers his friendship to Marc. 

Marc and Marlene agree...as long as he goes to a mental health facility first. 

The orderlies offer to take Marc in for help too. He tells them he's fine and leaves. 

Marc calls up Marlene to tell her he's coming home. 

And we get at long last... WTF am I looking at? 

I…I’m exhausted. It’s 3am Christmas Eve and I’m exhausted. 

Why did I read this. Why did I put myself through this? Why did Marvel let this happen? Why did Bemis get away with this crime? 

How did Moon Knight survive this run?! 

Why did this run follow one of the best written runs ever? 

I had plans to type up a big breakdown on why this whole two trade run was so bad… But if you made it this far with me (Thank you. Thank you so much. And I’m sorry), you know why it’s bad. You saw it. 

I’ll be real… I lost steam here. This was like a 10+ psych hit attack and I’m just baffled now. That ending was so convoluted and trash. The plot didn’t know where it was going. The characters were so rushed. The pace had issues. The bad guy didn’t know he was a bad guy till he suddenly needed a bad guy. The main bad guy couldn’t decide on why he was the main bad guy… And the good guy kept having existential moments of “Maybe I’m the villain?” 

It’s safe to say that EVERYTHING Bemis set up in these comics all faded away and were never touched again. With good reason. 

It’s like he set up a whole world ready for people to use and patted himself on the back and thought he’d done a really good job and done everyone a favor and then the world had time to process what he did. And the smart people? They took one look and went “No. No no nononono.” And closed that door again. 

Keep it closed. Lock it tight. Don’t let any of it sneak out. I beg you. 

We don’t need this racist, anti-semetic, homophobic, ableist shit in this fandom. If you know someone that is a Bemis fan and cites it as ‘an amazing run’ or ‘one of the best runs’, I encourage you to REALLY look at that person. They’re probably not healthy to be around. 

So… This was Bemis. Thank you for taking this journey with me. I need to go… go do anything that isn’t this. Expect some Moench soon. I need to not have this taste in my brain anymore. Questions and comments are welcome. Hate and bigotry are not. Feel free to discuss this run. But remember, Friends don’t let Friends read Bemis.

[iwtvfanevents]

Rewind the Tape —Episode 5

Art of the episode

Just like we did for the pilot and for episodes two, three, and four, we took note of the art shown and mentioned in the 5th episode while we rewatched it. We didn't identify any new visual art pieces this episode, but we have updated our previous posts with newly spotted or identified works.

Rouget et Anguille

Édouard Manet, 1864 [Identified by @knifeeater.]

We've actually seen glimpses of this piece one before, but this is the clearest look we got. This is not the first Manet we've seen around Rue Royale: we saw two in episode 2!

East St. Louis Toodle-Oo

Duke Ellington, 1926

The song playing in these scene is by Washington-born (but Harlem-based) jazz pianist and composer, and leader of his eponymous jazz orchestra Duke Ellington, known for his inventive use of the orchestra or big band. [Identified by @sygoflyy.]

Madame Bovary

Gustave Flaubert, 1857

The novel's protagonist, Emma Bovary, is famous for being lost in her books and obsessed with the romantic ideas she reads of in the popular novels of the day, which leads her to a series of poor decision and, ultimately, tragedy.

Etiquette

Emily Post, 1922

A huge success when published, Post's book instructs readers on manners and social rules of the time. It was popular with Americans who had moved up the social ladder and the waves of new immigrants who used the book as a guide on how to "level up" in American society.

De Masticatione Mortuorum in Tumulis

Michaël Ranft, 1728

The book in Claudia's bag is titled Folklore of Eastern Europe, but we haven't been able to find its author. At the end of the episode, she also pulls out some books, and mentions that she's read the "Masticatione Mortuorum," which can only be this book.

Cheri

Colette, 1920

The book Louis is reading at the end of the episode tells the story of a relationship between a middle aged woman and a much younger man, who must marry a girl his own age.

Home Is Where You're Happy

Charles Manson, 1973

The song that plays at the end of the episode is by murderer and cult leader Charles Manson. He called his cult a "Family," and convinced his followers to commit murder as well. Manson was a white supremacist.

If you spot or put a name to any other references, share via DM or in the reblogs, and let us know if you'd like us to add them with credit to the post!

Starting tonight, we will be rewatching and discussing Episode 6, ...Like Angels Put in Hell by God. We hope to see you there!

And, if you're just getting caught up, learn all about our group rewatch here ►

[artzychic27]

You ever think how the science kids might feel about some of the Resistance’s ideas/plans (mostly Nino’s plans), well if they’re invited to join that is?

Lacey: Okay! If no one’s gonna say this, I will! These plans are trash! Intentionally getting someone Akumatized? What’s that gonna do? How will that help us?

Nino: Well-

Lacey: Shut up! Here’s how we’re gonna do things from now on! First, no more shitty code names! You’ll refer to me as Madame Badass! Step out of line, and I call you Little Bitch.

Reshma: *Blushing* … Damn.

Lacey: Marinette! Since you’re scarily good at gathering information on people, and you know what I’m referring to, you’re on intel! *Points to Juleka, Nathaniel, and Ivan* You, you, and you are quiet and wear dark clothes! So you’ll spy on possible leads on the identity of Monarch! Anyone got any problems with how I’m running La Resistance?

Nino: *Starts to raise his hand, but Alya shakes her head, and he sets it down*

Lacey: That’s what I thought. Now, as for the rest of you, assignments will be given as this goes on. But remember… If you get caught, you ain’t our comrade anymore.

Adrien: That’s kind of harsh.

Ismael: *Pointing to the news live feed on his phone* Everything right now is harsh!

Aurore: I think you’d better listen to Lacey. Out of all of us, she’s the most prepared for any apocalyptic event.

Lacey: *Blushing* Aw, come on. I’m just good at parkour, fencing, and have some climbing equipment. It’s not a big deal.

Rose: Okay, well, how do we figure out Monarch’s new powers?

Lacey: Think. What is the common factor in each Akuma who was given the powers of the Miraculous?

Akuma Class: …

Science Kids: …

Kim: *Messing with his Alliance ring* Hmm… I’ve got nothing.

Lacey: Okay… Well then, what are some events that happened around the time Monarch made his appearance?

Ismael: Ladybug doomed us all.

Lacey: Good, good, dig deeper.

Marc: I heard she trusted a some random guy with the Dog Miraculous when there was already a holder for it.

Marinette: Okay, maybe we stop talking about Ladybug-

Lacey: No, this is good. Someone write this down!

Denise: There’s footage of Ladybug at the wax museum showing her not grabbing the Miraculous off of Monarch while he was captured. Instead, she gave this long ass monologue.

Mireille: Lila somehow became a character selection for the Alliance ring. And that is why I refuse to buy one.

Alya: Do guys you seriously believe Lila could have something to do with this?

Simon: We’re not ruling anything out. Not even any of you.

Jean: Oh, Gabriel started dressing like a cult leader and all the rich people are wearing white. Except Reshma.

Reshma: Yeah, I’ll stick to pink and black.

*Meanwhile, with the Akuma Clasd*

Nino: Okay, this is not what I had planned.

Ivan: But, you’ve gotta admire their planning.

[idaoftheburningmind]

Chelsuuuiii 😭 you’ve been so encouraging to me 🥹 thank you for reading my smol fic and giving it your love.

Dawn Greeting Dusk Falling

A reimagining of the events after ‘Siege and Storm’ and a coping mechanism for the SaB S2 ending we would rather not have…

She had kept a little of his shadow, he enough of her light. This is what made it possible, this meeting at the roiling edge of the Fold where Alina knew she would one day find herself.

Fifty years did he say? She knew it had been more, and still it surprised her as the seasons dragged on that love had endured — the love of so many, and the love of one above all. Even if she had to watch each one shrouded and laid in the ground. Each and every one.

What she means to do here now is neither a reckoning, nor a reconciliation. The moment is simply right. She looks into the shadows, and lifts her hand. The globe of light is muted, as though in a fog; but she knows he will not fail to see it.

“Alina.”

There is no rage in the way he says her name, not even a question. They are past that, she supposes.

One who was too young, and one who lived too long; they were here now, nearly unchanged but for her white hair worn unbound. He did not expect her to come sooner, he knew time well enough. He might have thought he knew her as well.

She did not destroy the Fold.

Thought dead after the collapse of the Chapel, legend had it that her spirit guided skiffs as they made each journey. For not a soul has been lost to the Fold since.

That was how she knew that he wasn’t lost. And the knowledge, when she realized it, caused her that day to weep with joy.

The two of them lived because they could not let the other die; when his humanity was burning away, she held on blindly to what remained and he … she could not name what he did, but in the end she knew he had kept her from falling into darkness.

He had kept — some essence, some hope? Light either way.

And a resolve not to lose her to the void.

What was left of him that day was drawn to the Fold, the only place where he could still exist.

A shadow among shadows.

“You might have left me with a fresh set of clothes. An eternity disheveled is its own unique torture.”

She startles with laughter, the unexpected joy at the even more unexpected attempt at humor freeing the tension in her shoulders. She lets herself smile at him, and his smile is genuine as he smiles back.

“Are you angry?” she asks.

“What is anger for?” is his reply.

Flame sputtering to life in sunlight has more purpose.

A silence heavy as the weight of loss they now share settles between them.

“I could not bear it if you turned from me now.”

He spoke the truth. It was the same truth she would always understand, no matter the centuries left to them, no matter their choices that will always hang in the balance.

She reaches for him with a tendril of shadow.

He holds out his hand in welcome.

————-

A/N: For my AU sister @becauseicantthinkwritings who has been putting up with my not-fun era for longer than she should 😅

[acequinz]

Lan Sect being deemed as actually "one of the good ones" is so bullshit to me.

Cause the entire story is just proving that their rules don't mean shit bout morality. (And also because my alarm goes off anytime any group tries to claim being morally superior just because they follow a very specific set of rules, babe that's just a cult or any other super religious group of people both terrible.)

At the end of the day they are literally what they are, gentry.

It reflects in their treatment of Su Minshan(especially post sunshot because cmon he's a sect leader too now, shouldn't you show proper behaviour???) and Wei Wuxian(in the gusu lecture days, lqr I ain't forget about you hounding him like a demon).

The rules are just that, rules and breaking them gets you punishment but not if you are one of the elders. (Qinghen-jun only went into seclusion for marrying his wife to protect her from being killed for attacking another elder, which also toned down her punishment because she was the madam of the sect now, she still suffered of course.)

And it's only because LWJ is so high up in position, he's a sect heir and LXC is the sect leader that he gets away alive after nightless city fighting the 33 elders.

They are not morally superior or one of the good ones they are simply people who follow a set of rules and throw you out once they know you wouldn't fit in with the group but that also takes a back seat if you are high enough in the lan clan chain.

So they clearly aren't as fair as they portray themselves to be.

At the end of the day, even they indulge in gossip and classism (see ayao treatment in the untamed scene and Lan Jingyi being able to dish out those bitching sentences with ease. Those were not the words of someone complaining for the first time.)

So I still maintain that LXC, LWJ and LJY are very good boys? Yes. But I will always be partial to those 3 cause I love them.

[shukei-jiwa]

OC Interaction Tag!

Hehe, thank you @leahnardo-da-veggie for tagging me! I don't know if i should reblog or make a new post.

Her OC :

Luna's a young woman (aged 23) who just so happens to be a mind mage and former cult leader. She's fairly pretty, petite with red locks and green eyes, but her magic, which she uses on everything, obscures all that. Anyone who can get a glimpse past her powers would find her to be your high-school mean girl who never grew up - book-dumb, lazy and cruel with a charming veneer. Even that's just a result of her upbringing, however. Being hunted by the magical police meant she never had a chance to experience a normal adolescence, and her abrasive nature is the result of a distrust of everyone and insecurity. Having an army of thralls to do her bidding since she was 12 did no favours for her life skills, so she can't cook, drive, or even use basic technology.

My OC :

Go Gum I, a 25 years old woman who's been away from home since 19. Her hometown tradition forbid her to go home, unless she come with a husband-to-be. She's an apprentice teacher (ups spoiler) and also an elder sister to Go Min U. She have a lot of nickname start from Gumi, Miss Go, Madam Gum (yikes another spoilers) and Kokeshi, since her brown bob hair looks like it. She also have a normal black eye and a pale yellow skin. Do 158 cm count as petite? Her past is... mysterious, people who knows her will never know her past unless her brother spill it out. ANYWAY, she always had this dream of meeting someone with his face covered with mist. And she believe that it is a sign of her soulmate.

Their Interaction :

Since Gum is a teacher, and older than Luna. I think Gum might able to teach her stuff, especially cooking because Gum teachs--- ehem no spoiler heheh. Because Luna got hunted by the magical police, i'm sure together! They will rarely have a peaceful moment. Except if the troublemaker, Minu, is not around. Minu don't like to be alone.

Yikes!! That's all, i'm really afraid that i might spill something just like her brother, btw it's really fun! So challenging!

Who should i tag...? I don't have much but i'll tag @shockingly-green-chicken , and of course anyone who like to play.

[warningsine]

In what might be one of the most creative TV shows of the last few years, Apple TV+’s Severance takes the much-talked-about idea of work-life balance to the extreme. And, in doing so, brilliantly shines a light on the cult-like atmosphere of modern corporate culture (looking at you Big Tech) and the myth of achieving a true work-life balance.

What is Severance?

In the series, employees of megacorporation Lumon undergo a procedure known as “severance.” The procedure surgically divides the individual’s memories between their work and personal lives. When employees take the elevator down to their floor, they lose all memories of their outside life. Alternatively, the moment they step off the elevator at the end of the day, employees have no recollection of who they work with or what they do. As a result, their work selves are known as “innies,” and the people they are outside of work are called “outies.”

The Cult of Corporate Culture

Severance is essentially a mix of Black Mirror meets The Office with a splash of Lost thrown in. But despite its sci-fi, futuristic premise, it hits the nail on the head when it comes to the inhumanity and cult-like tenants of today’s corporate culture.

There’s the deification of Kier Eagan, the founder of Lumon, reflected by the Perpetuity Wing — a Madame Tussauds museum-like shrine to the founder and his descendants — which employees get to visit for a rare break from their perpetual work. It might seem over-the-top and ridiculous, but it closely mirrors the way society views CEOs like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos as more than mere humans.

The obsession and cult-level worship for Lumon’s founder and his descendants also unlock the deeper reason for the company’s focus on its leaders’ infallibility and accomplishments: showcasing how a life of working at Lumon provides a “greater purpose” or a sacred mission. Much like the overly ambiguous corporate mission statements found on every modern company website, Lumon hopes to get buy-ins from the “innies” to dedicate their entire lives to serving the company by making them believe they are a part of something bigger than themselves, something making the world a better place. In reality, the “outies” wouldn’t even be able to tell you what it is that they do at work. This is quite similar to reality in which many working in the corporate world could quote their organization’s mission statement in a second, but would have a hard time pinning down exactly how their day-to-day role adheres to or advances that mission. It’s the idea of the mission that matters.

Then, there are the perks. Just like in real life, they are completely meaningless, and yet, just like the characters in Severance, we attach value to them because the company has convinced us of their value; they signify our own worth and contributions to the greater mission.

In the show, it takes the form of finger traps, erasers, and an engraved paperweight, which one character treats as his greatest life accomplishments. In real life, perks to incentivize you to work overtime and hit your goals could be a shout-out at the next company-wide All Hands meeting or a gift of corporate swag AKA t-shirts and mugs with the company logo. Outside the context of work, they mean nothing yet we are still willing to sacrifice our mental health by working harder and staying later for a chance at “earning” these rewards.

The Myth of the Work-Life Balance

Then there’s the main premise of the show: how to achieve true work-life balance. To the leadership at Lumon and those who willingly opt-in, the severance procedure unlocks unparalleled productivity by getting rid of the distractions of home life.

On the surface, the procedure seems to successfully accomplish the ever-elusive idea of work-life balance by creating a physical barrier between the two in the brain: your work self and your normal self. Never the two shall meet.

But what the show gets right is how even a medical procedure isn’t enough to solve the work-life balance problem permanently. Because who we are at home, while different, is still a part of who we are at work. Compartmentalizing is the goal, but segmenting out your brain like that doesn’t work in real life and it doesn’t work in the show.

We are good at our jobs because of our skill sets and professional experience, but our memories, our lived experiences, inform how we respond to certain stimuli and situations. As a result, it also plays a role in our job performance. Similarly, you can’t help if the stress of an upcoming work deadline stays on your mind well after you’ve clocked out.

The increase in remote work with the global pandemic over the last two years has only blurred this divide even more, begging the question of whether work-life balance was ever actually achievable in the first place.

Is “balance” the impossible goal we should be pursuing or should we reframe our approach and look to achieve work-life synergy? We need to acknowledge that the two don’t operate in silos and understand that they are intrinsically connected and need equal focus, protection, and time. At times, you’ll need to resolve a personal issue at work, and other times you’ll need to do some work during your personal time. The two need to work in tandem; rather than balancing the two and treating them as wholly separate from each other. After all, there is only one of you.

Severance brilliantly illuminates the fallacy of work-life balance and the other lies corporations tell us in order to secure our compliance. Maybe the ongoing “great resignation” trend means we’ve finally caught on and are no longer willing to accept this status quo. But then again, maybe not.

[idaoftheburningmind]

Lawbreaker

I’ve told Chelsea time and again that there are international conventions against what she does to us with her stories. Like, how in the name of heaven (and hell, because we want to be fair) do we go from “Shock, worry, arousal, confusion, more arousal…” to :

"I'm not afraid of you." You whisper aloud in realisation, that this is probably the most intimate you've ever been with another person and having him here didn't scare you. You knew he wouldn't try anything, or force you in any way, that you could just be you, without needing to guard yourself from him.”

All that in the time it takes to read (and re-read, because we all did, repeatedly in the case of certain parts) this glorious new chapter.

The flutt (i.e., fluff with smut, as Chelsea has branded it but which I suspect is her personal access to the pure heart of matter, or how else to explain the absolute primal pull of her stories) is exquisite and downright maddening in its perfection.

His hands squeeze down impossibility tighter and in the moment, you realise both your bodies are communicating the same thing; don't you dare pull away from me.

There’s both a sense of a grand plan and a fierce intimacy in how Chelsea describes the scenes leading up to the — ok let’s be grown-up about this — tail-fucking. Her writing is so beautifully deliberate that beauty is exactly what we see; the sequence of events aren’t celebrated for being grotesque, but rather for their captivating intensity.

You cry out against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to delve his rough tongue into your mouth. Your breath catches, feeling absolutely consumed by him, fucked by his tail, invaded with his tongue until there's nothing left that you wouldn't give.

Then to end with that scene of Billy touching her jaw, taking away a pain he could feel, knowing it was something he inadvertently caused, we circle back to how the hell (or heaven) Chelsea makes us so hot and bothered and then soft and sobbing mere moments later.

This chapter of An Altar for Our Sins though introduced a new character, and there may be more weeping and wailing in store for us with his arrival.

On that note, can we all please give Chels a standing ovation for that entire church scene? From the description of the stained glass, the other objects within, the silence…

The church is so silent compared to the street outside and it emphasize how alone you are.

To the moment Billy reappears :

It's hard to see more than his silhouette with the brightness of the sun behind him, but you know by the horns, that it's your demon at the church doors.

He’s described as “standing in the light…covered in blood” and it is — So. Damned. Sexy…

Chelsea has broken every law with this chapter; so it is purely for emotional support that I’m following that trail of blood.

An Altar For Our Sins

Part 6 // Masterlist

Demon!Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: Dark!Billy Russo, minor talks of non-consensual acts done in part 5, smut, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, face sitting, tail fucking, (putting that in bold so you see it), you hear me? He fucks her with his tail. It's consensual. Do not complain to me if you miss these warnings. She sort of gets a little high at the end from his cum. Mentions of blood and violence similar to other parts.

You'd let it bother for quite some while. Ever since he confessesed it to you, you went through many confusing emotions. Shock, worry, arousal, confusion, more arousal, concern, and then acceptance.

Now, you were onto another emotion entirely.

Fury.

As you watch him, deep in thought, pondering your next logical move after the events of today, you finally decide to say something about it.

"I think I'm mad at you."

He pauses, turning to look at you with widening eyes from his spot, leaning against your dining table. He almost looks innocent, with the way he blinks once, his eyebrows furrowing immediately after.

"Mistress?" He asked with a concerned voice and your glare doesn't waver.

"You cleaned me up while I was asleep, Billy... with your tongue."

You can see the genuine confusion and concern in his eyes.

"Yes?"

Damn, you were so aroused already. You take a few steps toward him, looking up at him angrily.

"You used your tongue on me, your rough, perfect tongue on me, while I was asleep- do you see the problem?"

His eyebrows draw together just a little, deep in thought.

"I-"

"You didn't think I'd want to be awake for that, Billy? Hmm? Didn't think I'd prefer to feel it? What if I did that to you? What if I licked that big cock while you were asleep and told you all about it when you woke up? How would you feel?"

Billy gulps.

"I'm sorry?" He mumbles, eyes trailing after you as you turn away from him with a scoff.

"I can make it up to you." He offers, watching your retreating form, his stomach clenched with the need to make things right.

You sigh, "Yeah, but I won't know if you're genuine or not- there's nothing quite like the first."

"Mistress." He says, desperately.

You turn back to face him. He takes the few steps it requires to stand before you. He looms over you so easily, your stomach flips at the size of him.

When he drops to his knees, you struggle with your arousal to stay composed, though it takes everything in you not to crumble.

He takes your hands in his, looking up at you with pleading eyes and you're so eternally turned on.

"Let me make this right," he begs, kissing your fingers, "Please, I can do better."

The power he gives you, goes to your head all over again. It's just like that night, the way you want to torment him burns inside you. You raise your hands to cup his face, your thumb brushing his lips.

"Poor little demon," you whisper, watching his eyelids flutter at the words, "Wants to make his mistress happy so badly."

His eyes flicker red for a moment.

You straighten your body.

"I suppose why not? It's not like you haven't already had your taste of me." You speculate, turning away from him to head to your bedroom.

.

.

.

EARLIER TODAY:

"You're being followed."

You tense up, fighting the urge to look around.

Was it the same people that had kidnapped you? Hadn't Billy confessed to killing them all? Maybe it was just some random person that had taken an interest in you.

You try to keep walking calmly, Billy's hand pressed to your back to steer you.

After a moment, you build up the courage to speak.

"What's going on?" You ask him, raising a hand to your mouth to pretend to yawn while you speak.

Billy looks around for a moment.

"Got a sense that something was off, noticed there's a car that has been following you for a couple of blocks, and three people on foot behind us that are suspicious- here- just stop to look at this flower for a second."

You do as he says, pausing to look at the bouquets lined up outside of the store.

"Oh, they are pretty." You say, distracted by the combination of sunflowers and roses.

"Yeah, they're definitely following, bad job at it too. Come on." Billy says, hand pressing into your back to guide you along.

You turn, and continue down the street.

"Where are we going?" You ask, curiously.

"There's a church nearby, you'll be safe there while I find out more. No one will think to look for you in a church if they think you're bound to me."

"Why?"

"Cause they think I can't enter. Turn here, I'll make you invisible until you go in, call for me if anything happens."

You swallow, hesitating to leave him. Your body takes on a purple aura, letting you know that you're invisible. You head up the steps to the small church, the large wooden door makes a solid sound as it closes behind you.

And then you're alone.

You swallow, studying the carving on the door. The church is so silent compared to the street outside and it emphasises how alone you are.

You turn, there's no one around you can see, but the atmosphere of the church distracts you. You study the beautiful stained glass mural at the front, light shines through, tossing a kaleidoscope of colours into the air.

The calm hush of the room calls to you, quietly asking for you to respect the space you're in.

You're entranced by the detailed design, everywhere you focus you find so much carefully thought out devotion expressed as art.

Carved marble columns, religious paintings lined with gold, you wonder how much time and effort had been put into the place.

And then you remember that Billy's existence implied there was one of higher power.

It doesn't necessarily change the way you see the world, it's not some big epiphany that comes with the realisation that God was real.

It did make you wonder about both sets of your parents.

You hadn't known your biological parents well, but you wondered where they were. Was there a heaven for them? Had they already faced judgment?

The thought makes you frown, a searing pain in your chest and the idea that you would face a similar judgement one day.

Then your adoptive parents come to mind. People who had taken you in and raised you as their own couldn't have possibly been bad enough to deserve hell right? They'd been atheist, did that automatically condemn them? Was that fair?

"I can tell you're spiralling." A voice says behind you.

You spin in fright, to find a man with a very kind face smiling at you. He raises his arms in a surrendering motion when he realises he's scared you.

He's dressed in a cassock and collar, with a shiny black rosary around his neck, a pair of red tinted round glasses sit on his nose, so darkly tinted that you wonder how he can see anything through them.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he says, "I just have a sixth sense for existential crises." He smiles.

He's very hot, you decide, with hair neatly combed on his head, and a short cropped beard, you find yourself returning his smile.

"Sorry, yeah, I just came to the realisation that God exists." You say, nodding your head in the direction of a wooden carving of Jesus on the cross.

He hums, "Well then, welcome to the club."

His words are so odd that you can't help the laughter that spills past your lips, and then you find him smiling along with you, proud that he'd lightened the mood.

"I'm Matt." He says, extending a hand to you.

"Matt? Not 'Father' or anything?" You ask curiously. You find yourself studying him closely, realising that there are some healing bruises on his cheek, and a split lip that looks to be a few days old.

"'Father' is so formal. Matt is better."

You nod, giving him your name and reaching out to shake his hand.

"Are you okay? You look like you lost a fight." You ask, concerned.

Matt smiles, waves off your concern.

"Ah, not being able to see sometimes means you fall down stairs. I'll be okay."

"Oh, I'm sorry." You say in sympathy.

"About the stairs or the blindness?" He asks with a humorous inflection in his voice.

"Are all priests this funny?" You ask with a wide smile, and he chuckles.

"I'm just trying to make you feel better, I know how confusing things can be for you right now."

You let out a sigh, nodding.

"I appreciate it. Life has been a big mess as of late... but not all bad." You turn to study the rows of flickering candles nearby.

"I imagine being soul bonded to a demon can't be all fun." He answers and it takes you a second to realise what he's said.

You turn slowly this time, mouth open comically. He keeps a kind smile on his face while you quietly lose your shit.

"What do you mean?" You say, playing dumb.

He bows his head, to hide his smile.

"Cards on the table, I can sense demonic auras. But I've never met a living person with a demonic aura, so I put two and two together and figure that you must have been bound to one... I assume against your will. Am I correct?"

"Y- yeah..."

He nods, deep in thought.

"I'm not judging. I'm in no place to do that. Though I hope you're okay, and I want you to know that if you ever need any help... I won't turn you away."

You blink at him. Was it really that easy not to judge someone?

"You're not... condemning me for it?" You murmur in a soft voice.

"Don't get me wrong, it's not something I support... but you don't seem like a bad person, just an unfortunate circumstance."

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, nodding, feeling the urge to make him understand.

"You're right. I didn't want this. They tried to sacrifice me... he saved me. He keeps me safe."

Matt nods in understanding.

"Please be careful though, manipulation is in their nature."

You blink, your head trying to come up with a myriad of excuses for Billy, a way to explain to this knowledgeable stranger that for all Billy was bad, he was working to be better.

As you open your mouth to explain, the church doors open.

It's hard to see more than his silhouette with the brightness of the sun behind him, but you know by the horns, that it's your demon at the church doors.

"I have to go." You say to Matt, turning back to him.

He inclines his head.

"Be careful." He says, before turning away, and disappearing into a room to the left of the altar.

You think about the strange conversation as you head toward Billy.

When you get close enough to make out his features, your mouth drops open in surprise.

He stands in the light of the church doors,  drenched in blood.

"What the hell happened?!" You whisper aggressively to him.

All he does is give you a bloody grin.

Water pours over both of you.

You're still fully clothed, but you take your time helping him out of his bloody shirt.

Blood runs in rivulets from the crown of his head, down the sides of his face and over his torso.

He's deliciously attractive like this, and you try not to let it show as you help clean him.

Just moments ago, you were standing in a church corridor, Billy had wrapped his arms around you and teleported you right into your bathroom.

"Whose blood is this?" You ask, grabbing some shampoo to work into his hair.

He bends his large body, presenting the top of his head to be cleaned.

You take your time, working the shampoo in, lathering easily, and rinsing the blood from his hair. Out of precaution, you give him a second wash too, making sure to get every inch of his horns. He groans once or twice when you use your nails to scratch along his scalp, not paying it much mind.

"The group that summoned me is a lot bigger than I thought." He starts, as you work conditioner into his hair.

"Some of them had been watching from cameras that night, and they'd seen everything happen." Billy continues to explain.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself.

"They know where you live, but they wouldn't dare try something, not with me here."

"Should we move? Just in case?" You ask. Your little apartment definitely wasn't the safest place to be, and if it made you feel safer, you wouldn't mind getting a place with better security on Billy's influence.

He thinks about it, and after a minute, he nods in agreement.

You think about what they could have seen- you, sobbing and bound, wearing your coat and nightdress, the way you'd tried to crawl away, the way Billy had looked, naked and shrouded in smoke.

What would they do if they managed to catch you? The thoughts were terrifying.

"Hey." He says, bumping his horn into your hand to get your attention.

He raises his head, and you gulp as he towers over you.

You know what he sees, your worried expression, you wonder if he can feel the nervous wriggle of your stomach, the way you're trying your hardest not to freak out.

"I-" You try to tell him that you'll be okay but the words won't come. You look away, avoiding his eyes.

"Mistress." Billy murmurs softly.

You look back at him, his hands raise to cup your face.

"You're safe, I promise you that you're safe."

You swallow, nodding.

A warm moment as he bumps his nose against yours, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

.

.

.

NOW:

You're sitting on the bed patiently when he walks in. Though you were confident only moments before, you've gone shy now, with the realisation of what you're about to do.

Slowly, looking up at him you tug your shorts down your legs, letting him see the comfortable, white silk panties just below.

He moves closer, eyes still fixed on yours as your thumbs curl into the waistband of your underwear next.

He leans forward to stop you, his large hands covering yours, pulling them away.

"Why don't you lay back, and let me take care of everything?" Billy offers with a soft voice, and you nod, looking up at him.

You take a breath, scooching back on your bed, propping your head onto a stack of pillows that has you reclined at a 45 degree angle.

He gives you a warm look of approval, before reaching back to pull his shirt over his head.

His hair gets messy, and you fight the urge to right it, his horns poking through his hair.

You swallow, eyes trailing down his bare torso, carefully sculpted, beautifully carved, leading down to a small waist.

He's built a little like a swimmer, you think, defined in all the best places.

His knees touch the bed, you press your thighs together tightly as he crawls his way up to you. A predator in every sense of the word.

He hovers over you, large and imposing, with warm eyes and a gentle smile.

"Sure you want this?" He asks softly.

You struggle to open your mouth to speak, only able to nod eagerly.

"What are you going to do to me?" You whisper, watching his eyes dart down to your mouth.

He lets out a long sigh, eyes sparkling red for just a moment before he speaks.

"I'm gonna get you nice and naked." He breathes, "Gonna kiss your pretty skin until you're so relaxed under me that you can barely lift your head." He leans in to whisper the rest into your ear, his soft stubble scratching your skin gently, your core throbs in response to him.

"Then, I'll put my tongue on you. Lick that sweet cunt until you're crying, until you're not sure if you want to pull me closer or push me away."

He draws back so you can look into his eyes. There a place, set between your hip bones, that tingles deep inside of you.

"What about your fingers? Or your tail?" You ask.

"What about them?"

You swallow.

"A-are you going to use them on me?"

His smile grows into a grin.

"No." He murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

"If you want that, you're going to have to ask for it. I'm not going to fuck my tail into you without your consent." He says. The tail in question trails gently over your thigh.

Oh? Now he's concerned about your consent?

You nod in understanding, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He lets out a slow sigh, closing his eyes, savouring the feelings in his chest.

Your hand drifts, cupping the back of his neck and he opens his eyes to meet yours.

You pull him closer, you brace your other hand on the bed to push your face closer to his.

When your lips meet, it's surprisingly gentle, despite the fact that you can cut the desire in the room with a knife.

Your first kiss with Billy, your real first kiss and it's perfect, he doesn't treat it like a preamble to anything else, doesn't rush to pull at your clothes or feel your body while you're distracted. No, he cups your cheeks to keep you in place, no chance of you slipping away or breaking the kiss before he's ready.

He sighs against your mouth and you desperately take the opportunity, parting your lips to run your tongue over the seam of his.

He groans, his hands tighten on your face for just a second, before his mouth parts, eager to slip his tongue against yours.

You make a small sound of delight, his tongue just a little rougher than normal, tangling with yours in the best way, a sharing of your breaths that feels more intimate than anything else.

Your hand drifts higher, into his hair, all the way to the lovely dark horns sprouting from his head.

From the first graze of your fingertips against his horn, he lets out a long groan, the sound vibrates against your lips, desperate and brazen and begging you.

It's you that has to finally move, slipping your hand from his hair, grabbing one of his hands that cup your cheeks and guiding them down to the edge of your shirt.

His fingers curl around the fabric absentmindedly, moving only the way your hand guides.

You push his hand up one side, until the shirt can go as far as possible, and then you reach for the other side of your shirt.

He breaks the kiss finally when the shirt is tucked under your breasts, his other hand moves from your cheek to where your hand is, pulling your shirt up, and off your body.

The air kisses your cool skin and you can't help but shiver.

You're bare beneath it, and you watch Billy's eyes shine red, tucking the edge of his bottom lip into his mouth to bite down on it.

You reach up, smiling as you use your thumb to untuck his lip, leaning forward to bite down on it yourself.

The sound he makes is downright unhinged. You almost giggle and if you weren't nibbling on his bottom lip you definitely would.

He pulls back, letting his lip slip from between your teeth, pushing you until you fall back against the pillows with wide eyes.

He kisses your lips one last time, then the corner of your mouth, over your cheek, the edge of your jaw to the spot right below your ear.

"Let's not forget why we're here, Mistress," he says into your ear, his tongue slipping out to graze the shell of your ear. You gasp in surprise at the pleasurable feel, "My tongue."

How could you forget? It's not as if you could stop thinking about his tongue from the moment you licked over it a few nights ago.

He kisses down the column of your neck, before taking his time, licking all the way up.

God, that feels so nice, the ache between your legs can no longer be sated from being pressed together. You wriggle, and he leans back to give you the space you need to wrap your legs around his hips.

Your ankles lock behind his ass instinctively, and when he smiles, leaning back in to continue his exploration of your chest, you feel his stiff erection right against your centre.

You gasp, rocking your hips a little, chasing the feeling that grinding your clothed pussy against him gives you. You wriggle, whining when the pressure isn't exactly in the right spot, only to feel his tail, work its way between your thighs to press right against your clit.

You gasp, body arching at the pleasure that fills you. His tail making micro movements against the gusset of your panties, relieving the ache.

You relax, sighing as his tail sates you for the moment, his lips resuming their careful exploration, kissing over your chest, followed by the swipe of his tongue over your skin.

He gets to your breasts, kissing them softly, suckling the stiff bud of one breast between his lips before switching to the other.

He's so gentle, you feel a pull low in your stomach, begging him to just take you.

Fuck, if he was smaller, you'd be begging for him to try, but as of right now, you were still daunted by the size of the erection pressed against your thighs.

His hands push your breasts together and you groan, with his tail rubbing over your slit and his rough tongue dancing over your nipples and you feel just about ready to cum.

"Billlyyyy." You sing his name, he chuckles against the soft skin of your breast.

"Mistress," he murmurs, "I'd appreciate your patience while I explore your body. It's not every day that one gets to explore his willing charge."

You groan as his tongue snakes from your nipple to your neck.

"You're being mean." You gasp out, one hand drifting up into his hair.

"I know. Isn't it fun?"

You let out an exasperated breath.

He continues kissing over your skin eagerly.

You let the need take control of you, reaching up to grip one of his horns, you pull him up for an eager kiss, putting all your feverish need into it.

He makes a sound, one of surprise and disapproval of interrupting his exploration.

"Please, please, please." You murmur hotly against his mouth, licking over his lips and feeling his tail press more firmly down on your clit in response.

"Stop teasing me." You beg finally before pulling away.

"Or what?" Billy challenges and you finally understand how truly demonic he can be to you.

But maybe you had a little bit of torment inside you too.

"Or I'll get someone else to do it." You hit back.

When his eyes flash red this time, you know it's anger and not lust. His jaw clenches, he takes a sharp breath. He lets some of the anger out on his next exhale.

His eyes remain red, as his mouth turns up into a smile.

"You're adorable, mistress." He say, leaning in to speak right into your ear in a soft voice.

"But if you think I'd sit by and let another touch you, you're in for a surprise." He leans away, hands drifting down your body until they settle on the waistband of your underwear.

"Because you're mine. Just as much as I am yours."

With those final words, he tears your panties away from your skin.

You're not surprised by his actions, only complaining to him that they were your favourite pair, watching him smile up at you before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

His hands are firm on your skin, daring you to try and move. He grips your hips as his lips trail down your stomach and over your thighs. You let out a sharp cry when he grazes his teeth against your inner thigh, his tail moving to circle your other leg, holding you open for him.

You watch him, as his eyes land on your dripping centre. You watch the way his mouth parts, the way he runs his tongue against the edge of his teeth as he looks at you.

"Fuck." He says suddenly, and you can't help clenching at the low, guttural way the word leaves his lips.

You let out a shaky sigh.

"Please." You beg, voice trembling in desperation.

His eyes flit up to yours, eyes a dark red, barely noticeable, but yet still so distinct.

He doesn't speak, dropping his head to kiss your slit.

You let out a soft hum, enjoying the way his lips feel, and then making another sound of approval as you feel his tongue for the first time.

His first proper lick makes you gasp loudly. His tongue is just rough enough that you feel where every part of it rubs against you.

He's gentle as he licks you, and when he touches your clit, you cry out.

It almost feels like too much, and in the pleasure of it, you try to squeeze your legs closed, but you're unable to do so with his tail and his hand keeping your legs wide.

He presses his tongue flat on you, shifting his head slightly so that it feels good, but not nearly enough.

He groans, pulling back for a moment to speak.

"You taste so good, mistress, I could do this for hours."

His lips close around your clit for a brief moment, before he focuses the tip of his tongue right on that spot. You jerk in bliss, your thighs tremble.

"Billy. Billy. Please. Please." You beg.

With his tongue on your clit, you hear him let out a short laugh.

"Yes? Is there something you need?"

Fuck. How could he play with you at a time like this?

"You. Need you." You gasp.

"Me?"

Without thinking, you reach down and gently take one of his horns in your grip.

When he stops moving, you look down at him in concern that you make have crossed a line.

Instead, he looks at you with so much heat in his eyes that it floors you.

With half-lidded red eyes, he reaches for your other hand, wrapping it around his other horn.

"You better hold on, baby." He says, leaning down to continue licking you.

His slick tongue probes you, exploring your cunt in ways you've never felt before.

Your grip on his horns tighten when he starts licking into your entrance and over your clit at a steady pace. You let out a prolonged cry of his name, feeling your body tremble as the pleasure overtakes you.

He moans, the vibrations send tingles over your body, the wet sounds of his tongue on your cunt adding to the pleasure.

You hold his horns securely, back arching involuntarily as you feel your orgasm fast approaching.

Tears spill from the corner of your eyes. You pull on his horns to keep him close though you try to fight the sensations by attempting to close your legs. He doesn't let you, keeping you wide open for him instead.

His tongue speeds up, swiping over your clit repeatedly, he circles his tongue on you. You can't help the pitiful sob that leaves your mouth.

You cry his name, he doesn't stop.

You tremble violently when you cum. Your body spasms and shakes but you can't control any of it because you're too lost in the bliss to focus on anything else. Like molten lava spreading through your veins, sending scorching hot pleasure through your body, your clit throbbing as Billy continues to lick you softly through your orgasm.

You pant, struggling to catch your breath with the onslaught of bliss, absentmindedly realising that you've been gripping his horns harshly- you release them suddenly so that he can move away if he wants.

He doesn't budge, continuing to lap at your dripping pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His lips are shiny with your arousal, eyes like rubies as you watch his tongue swipe over his mouth.

You swallow, body tingling at the sight of him, aching for more.

"Can I-" Your voice cuts off, shocked at the absurdity of the question you were about to ask. More? You wanted more? How could you possibly ask him for more after he'd given you so much already?

"Mistress?" Billy asks curiously with a tilt of his head, his eyes reverting back to his natural dark hue.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Thank you Billy." You say, sitting up.

He reaches out to stop your movement, hands on your shoulders, thumbs circling your skin.

"Whatever it is, you can ask. I'm here to serve."

"That sounds awful." You say with an apologetic twist of your mouth.

He grins, leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

"Let me put it this way, if I didn't want to... I wouldn't."

You swallow, nodding.

"I want... more." You whisper, unable to meet his eyes.

"More?" He echoes.

You nod shyly.

He cups your face between his hands, angling you up to meet his eyes that have gone right back to their crimson colour.

"More of my tongue? Or something else?"

"T- tongue." You whisper so softly in hopes that he doesn't hear.

"Would you like to try sitting on my face?"

Your eyes widen.

"What?" You ask, perplexed, your body warming with the thought of sitting on his face, gripping his horns for leverage while he-

"I'll take that as a yes." He says suddenly, flipping you both until you're seated on his adonis belt. You gasp in surprise at the sudden movement, and then groan as your bare center rubs against him.

His hands smooth over your thighs, to grip your hips.

"Are you sure?" You ask him cautiously.

"I'm sure if you are." He agrees, and you don't hesitate any longer, shuffling your way up his body. When you lose your balance, he grips your hips tighter to hold you securely.

Billy is aching below you. He wants another taste badly, he's almost impatient to feel the weight of you on his face, the way you'll moan and buck your hips for him while he gets another taste of you.

He waits, he's calm through your hesitation, reassuring when you freeze.

"It's okay, I want this." He murmurs below you.

You take a slow breath in as you make contact with his face.

Billy groans below you.

"Oh shit-" You say, moving to raise off of him, "Did I hurt you-?"

He groans again, hands tightening on your hips to pull your weight back onto his face. You gasp when his lips seal around your clit, distracting you from your worries of crushing him.

"Oh fuck Billy." You cry.

His tongue is deliciously amazing, coarse and gentle, working into an eager pace. You can't help reaching down to grip his horns, a move that gets a moan of approval from the demon below you.

His tongue traces circles, careless patterns of pleasure that guides you into rocking against his face involuntarily, panting his name on each breath.

"So good Billy, please, I need you so bad." You praise, rolling your hips onto his rough tongue and feeling the dizzying pleasure take control of you. He's everything you've ever wanted, your deepest desire come to life and when he kisses your clit, you can't help jerking in surprise at being brought up to the edge so suddenly.

He doesn't stop, swirling his tongue, plunging it as deep into you as he can possibly get, hands gripping you tight so that you can't even think of pulling away.

When gripping his horns is not enough, you allow one hand to delve into his hair, tangling the strands between your fingers before tugging.

His hands squeeze down impossibility tighter and in the moment, you realise both your bodies are communicating the same thing; don't you dare pull away from me.

The thought alone is euphoric, that he's happy to be exactly where he is, and with a few more ruts of your clit against his tongue, your body tenses, muscles spasming as you cum hard for a second time.

You barely have any faculties left to help you stay upright. Your body relaxes without your permission, and you allow yourself a space for your body to hit the bed.

You try to extricate yourself  from him, but he only growls, grabbing your legs to spread them apart so that he can continue licking your pussy.

You let out a harsh cry, his tongue avoids your clit as best as possible, and you realise as an afterthought, that this is him cleaning you up just the way he did a few nights ago.

When he's done, he raises his head to find you looking at him with glassy eyes.

"Need you." You gasp out, and you keep your eyes on him as he crawls into the space beside you.

You bury your face into his warm skin, your body still sending wave after wave of pleasure down your spine.

His hand is soothing on your cheek, thumbing at the glistening tears there.

If you had any reservations about asking for what you wanted, it's completely gone from you now.

"Want your tail. You- you said you could- you said I just had to ask-"

"Shhhhh, easy, take a deep breath."

"No," you fight, "I need you now. I feel so empty Billy. I've never felt this empty before."

He lets out a slow breath.

"Okay, okay, I'll give you what you need."

You hum in appreciation, hooking one leg over his hip, spreading the other eagerly. Open thighs for your demon to fit his tail into you.

"I should open you up a little on my fingers." Billy suggests, and your impatience gets the better of you, but when you open your mouth to protest, you catch sight of his tail and pause. The widest part of his tail is about the width of three of your fingers, and you know it would hurt a little to take that much into you.

"Okay." You whisper, meeting his eyes, a little daunted by the acts you were about to undergo, yet too desperate to stop now.

His large hand covers your pussy, his middle finger makes contact with your entrance. Your breath freezes in your throat at the delicious sensation of him rubbing your entrance.

"If anything hurts, you stop me. Okay?"

You blink, eagerly nodding your head.

He gets his finger nice and wet with the abundance of your arousal before he sinks his first knuckle into you. You gasp in a deep breath, tilting your hips up in a silent beg for more.

Billy is meticulous, careful, as he works his middle finger right into you, you barely feel any pain at all.

When he reaches all the way in, and you can feel him so impossibly deep inside of you, he pauses.

"How does that feel?" He asks, eyes trained on you. You turn to look at him, desperate eyes on his warm ones.

"Feels s'good."

"Yeah? What about when I move like this?" He asks, bringing his lone finger out and then pushing it slowly back into you.

You cry out, head falling back, eyes squeezed shut. He doesn't stop his slow movements, and you find yourself rocking your hips in time to his movements.

"It's not enough." You whine, "I need more."

"Okay, this may pinch a little bit, take a deep breath for me."

You do as he says, and in the exhale, two of his fingers probe your entrance.

He's right, two of his fingers pushing into you does pinch, and when you gasp in pain, his hand freezes.

"I'll stop." He says, beginning to withdraw his fingers from you.

"No please," you beg, "I need it, please Billy, I want to."

You hear his gulp, and feel as his two fingers attempt to push into you once more.

This time, he takes it even slower, allowing his fingers time to get wet with your arousal, before fucking them into you. You whimper, desperate and eager for the feel of his fingers. It makes you feel so full, in a way you've never felt before.

"I'm gonna open you up on my fingers." He whispers hotly in your ear, his voice sending shivers of bliss down your naked body.

"I'm going to stretch my mistress' tight cunt, until I can fit my tail in. Can you guess what I'll do next?"

You gasp, turning to look into his vermillion eyes, unable to say a word as his fingers do just as he says.

"That's right. I'm going to fuck you with my tail. Make you cum on it, maybe I'll make you clean your own cum off of my tail, kiss you so that I get the taste."

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Maybe I'll flip you on your stomach and fuck my tail into you from behind. Maybe I can keep you stuffed full with it. Give you an idea of what my cock could be like."

Your breath hitches, you writhe beside him.

"I think you're ready for it." He whispers in your ear, and you think you are too.

He withdraws his fingers, and then something too familiar is working its way in.

Incoherent, your mouth opens wide to take in more air. His tail feels different than his fingers, thinner at the top, and only a little wider at the base. You clench around him eagerly, hearing him groan as he pumps his tail into you.

"I can't tell you how much I think about this. How often I've touched myself to the thought of being inside you." Tears spill onto your cheeks, you realise that you can feel the rough bumps on his tail rubbing against your inner walls, amping up your pleasure.

He starts slowly, but when he feels how eager you are, his pace increases.

You sob more, unable to form a single thought in your head past the pleasure if you tried.

You reach for him, grabbing onto the first thing you can reach- his wrist- and squeezing tight.

Billy leans closer, so that his lips brush your ear.

"I know, I know it feels so good. I can feel your pleasure- did you know? I can feel how mindless you are. It's a good thing you don't need to think. All you need to do is cum."

Your nails claw into his skin, he chuckles, his thrusts growing harsher.

He readjust his angle slightly, and a sound of pure bliss leaves your mouth.

"You feel so good, and you taste even better and you're all mine, mistress."

Your breath stutters in your throat, his tail slows it's pace, prolonging your pleasure, sliping in and out of you so calmly now, still touching every desperate part of you.

He reaches up, his fingers sinking into the pliant skin of your jaw, and tilting your head so that you can look into his eyes.

More tears leak down your face, as his tail continues to take its time fucking into you so sweetly. The pleasure burns inside you, scorching hot and sears ecstasy into your mind until you can think of nothing else but him.

He looks down at you, drinking in your expressions, feeling your pleasure in the back of his head like a light going off- some big realisation happening inside of him as he gives you what you crave.

"In truth," Billy utters, "I want to own you."

He feels you clench around his tail.

Your breath stutters.

"I've found myself tied to you for a very long time. I'm at your mercy. At your service. Anything you want, I provide- and the concept of it makes me so fucking angry."

You blink, trying to focus.

"Bill-" You start to say but his palm swiftly covers your mouth, and you huff through your nose, raising a hand to cup his, not attempting to pull him away just yet.

"Not angry at you, angry at the entire system that put me here in the first place." He looks away, and after a few moments he confesses, "You're the one thing that's good about this."

He looks at you again, and then leans in, moving his hand out of the way so that he can press his lips to yours. His tail stills inside of you, pressing in deeply, you try to focus- to return his kiss- but when his tail shifts upward, you let out a sharp cry against his lips as he touches an incredibly sensitive spot inside of you.

Your body shakes, your eyes widen in shock.

"There it is." He says, as if he was looking for this spot inside of you all along.

Too desperate for the pleasure, you open your mouth to speak.

"If it's ownership you want, then it's yours." You say, watching his eyes flash bright red for a second.

"Own me."

A low sound leaves his chest, and then his mouth is on yours again, and his tail begins to fuck you earnestly.

You cry out against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to delve his rough tongue into your mouth. Your breath catches, feeling absolutely consumed by him, fucked by his tail, invaded with his tongue until there's nothing left that you wouldn't give.

"Prove to me that I own you," he murmurs against your lips, "and cum for me."

You nod eagerly, as his tail moves faster. He dips his head to lick against your neck, one hand trailing down to press one of your peaked nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You shudder. Your body no longer feels like yours- only a toy for him to manipulate whichever way he likes.

A loud sound breaks past your throat, you tilt your neck to give him more place to work. His lips continue to suck and torment at your shoulder, until you feel the pleasure of his touch grow to be too much for your body to contain.

You entire body pulls taut, one hand grips the sheets, the other holds his wrist, your breath lingers in your chest as you stop breathing.

Your back arches off the bed when you come.

It's like some large explosion going off in your head, your vision goes white, pleasure sparks down your spine, and your very thinking unspools as your orgasm moves through you.

You're gone for a moment, floating somewhere very far away, unable to get back to your body no matter how hard you try.

"Shhh, relax, mistress, I've got you." You hear him say, and you allow yourself to float peacefully, with the knowledge that you're cared for above all else.

When you come to, you're pressed tightly against him. You take a deep breath, your vision swims for a moment before it focuses. His tail, now clean, is wrapped around your thigh, you cunt tingles and aches, throbs in bliss at being used so well.

"How long was I out?" You ask him.

"Couple of minutes, that's normal." He says in an attempt to reassure you.

"How did you- I've never... come that hard before."

Billy hums in acknowledgement.

"You should expect a lot more of that." He says, and you feel your body pulse with excitement.

Your limbs feel heavy, your breathing slows, calmed by his closeness.

"I didn't make you cum." You say after a few moments, feeling his hot erection through his clothes, pressing against your thighs.

"That's alright, it'll go away."

You frown.

"That's not what I want." You challenge.

"No?" He asks.

You fight the exhaustion, sitting up, and turning to look at him.

"No." You say, leaning down to kiss him.

He hums against your mouth, and then stiffens in surprise when your hand drifts downward to cup his straining erection.

"Want you in my mouth." You say decisively, reaching for the button of his pants to undo it.

You get his pants off with only a little difficulty, and then tug his boxers off too. He doesn't do much more than shift his hips when necessary, to get them off.

And then it's just you and his cock.

Big... too big.

He'd never fit all the way in your mouth, you may have to use your hands like you've seen in porn, but you're determined, eager to feel him come undone below you.

You pause, looking up at him. He looks flushed, propped up on his elbows to get a better look at you, eyes and cheeks tinted red until you're sure he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Even his chest is coloured with an undertone of pink, flushed and eager for you.

Precum dribbles from the head of his cock, large and mouthwatering and before you lose your nerve, you lean forward.

He hisses when your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock. Salty precum coats your tongue, your eyes meet his as you savour his taste.

His lips are parted, the sheets clenched in his fists on either side of his body. You smile at his reaction, leaning down to kiss his cock.

He groans, low and primal and you get the idea that he's barely contained, ready to rip at the seams at any given moment.

You think about all the amazing things he's done for you, and you don't hesitate to suck the smooth tip of his cock into your mouth.

He fills your mouth easily, you press lower until you're at your comfort limit. You can hear his shallow breathing above you.

With a new thought in mind, you raise your head.

He looks at you, and you look at him, and before he can utter a word of question, you reach for his hand, gently running your fingertips over his clenched fists before pulling at his wrist.

He releases the sheets and allows you to pull his hand up until his hand is cupping the back of your head.

"Can you help me?" You ask softly, and his eyelids fluttering while he blinks is the only indication that he's heard you.

You give him a gentle smile, sinking lower once more.

It's slow and deliciously sinful, he keeps a steady hand on the back of your head while you suck his cock, enjoying the delightful sounds he makes.

When you feel confident enough, you wrap your free hand around his cock and begin stroking him to the slow pace of your mouth.

"Fuck, you're so good at this- I don't deserve it." You hear him say, which makes you raise your head to speak.

"Of course you deserve it, Billy, you're such a good demon for me."

He closes his eyes with a groan, and you let out a breathy laugh, dropping your head once more.

You keep going slowly enough, until your jaw starts to ache, something you hadn't realised would happen.

You do your very best to ignore the ache, trying to focus only on the taste of his veined cock and smooth tip.

You begin to move faster, keeping the pace of your hand in time so that you can pleasure as much of his shaft as possible.

"You're amazing mistress, fuck."

Billy's head tips back, gasping for air as pleasure assails his senses. Your mouth on his cock had been everything he'd ever dreamed of and hoped for. The inside of your mouth was soft and hot and your tongue- holy fuck your tongue was going to kill him.

Worst of all was when you took him a little too deep and you gagged a little around the head of his cock. He could feel your throat contract around him, it had made him feral to own you. He'd resisted thoughts of gripping your head and fucking your mouth, saving the filthy thought for later, knowing that he'd get everything he wanted in time.

Billy's eyes roll back in his head, he's so close, all because of you, and your sweet smiles and your perfect mouth and he couldn't get enough of you if he tried.

"Close." Is all he can find the strength to say, and then he feels your efforts double down.

He groans when he feels you speed up, and you're desperate and eager to feel him explode in your mouth that you hyperfocus only on his cock.

You feel his abdomen tighten, and the muscles on his thighs contract, his hand holds fast to the back of your head.

There's a low groan, and you take his cock all the way into your mouth as he comes.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to make yourself as comfortable as possible as waves of his cum flood your mouth.

You swallow as much of it as you can, but inevitably, some slips out of your mouth.

You pull up with a gasp when his cock stops pulsing, looking up at him and finding his head tilted back, his chest heaving.

You can feel something warm settle in your head, a fog that relaxes you, soothes your soul, and you can't help the need to clean all of his cum.

You take your time, licking his shaft, seeing him raise his head to look at you in surprise as you begin cleaning him up. His cock hasn't softened at all, and you moan in delight, swirling your tongue over his tip to catch the last bits of his cum.

"I think I love the way you taste." You murmur, looking up at him with hooded eyes. He takes your chin into his palm, tilting your head up to look into his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly, his eyebrows drawing together in concern.

"Yes. Your cock is massive and delicious." You try to explain.

He sighs, tilting your head from side to side, examining something you can't see.

"Your pupils are blown wide." He comments, concern lacing his voice.

"Can I kiss you? Are you one of those guys that doesn't like to be kissed after a girl sucks you off?" You ask as if he hasn't spoken.

The corner of his mouth twitches, amused.

"You can kiss me anytime you please, mistress."

"Yay!" You cheer, leaning up to press your lips to his.

You moan into his mouth, kissing him softly, savouring the way your naked body feels sliding against his.

"I'm not afraid of you." You whisper aloud in realisation, that this is probably the most intimate you've ever been with another person and having him here didn't scare you. You knew he wouldn't try anything, or force you in any way, that you could just be you, without needing to guard yourself from him.

His hands trace your spine, squeezing gently at your body when the exhaustion finally hits.

You huff out a sigh, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, rubbing your cheek against his stubble every now and then.

You head is still hazey, and you're not too sure why, but you don't focus on it at all.

"Your cum tastes amazing," you mumble sleepily to Billy, who has tilted back on the bed to allow you to rest on his chest while you drift off.

"So you've said." He hums.

"I need to taste you again when I wake up." You sigh against his chest, feeling his hand pause for a moment while rubbing your back, only resuming his soft motions when you make a sound of complaint.

You lick your lips, feeling his tail wiggle it's way to wrap around your thigh, smiling softly as sleep overtakes you.

Billy had never had a mistress before, definitely not one he was attracted to. Yet he had the sneaking suspicion that his cum had drugged you in some way. No one had mentioned that being possible, and he racked his brain to remember the last time he'd been sucked off.

Nothing came to mind.

Had the last time he'd been treated this way really been when he was alive?

He swallows, figuring that eternal damnation definitely didn't intend to come with blowjobs this good.

You shift in your sleep, muttering about peaches, your breasts are fitted snugly against him, and he sighs in bliss. He can feel the soreness in your jaw through his bond, and he rubs your jaw softly, his fingertips glowing purple as he soothes your ache. The ache you had from sucking his cock.

He pauses, thinking for a second that he should have left your jaw sore- a reminder to you that you had him in your mouth, but then guilt fills him- he didn't want you in any pain.

Billy blinks, wondering about his feelings, and not surprised at the conclusions he comes to about himself.

.

.

.

[doxieandthedead]

5 Songs and 3 Outfits

RULES: post 5 songs associated with your OC, followed by 3 outfits they would wear

Tagged by @crystal-overdrive, not tagging any folks specifically but please do it if you read this!

Also this was HARD. It was hard to really pin down which specific songs/outfits to show off, as I've got Pinterest boards and playlists coming out of my ears for her.

Tamasvi, daughter of Bhaal, chose redemption.

Songs

A song from my own childhood, this one in particular feels fairly emblematic of Tamasvi's experience of being Daddy's little favourite, especially at the height of his influence on her. She is a prolific serial killer: there's a reason I named the fic I'm writing 10,000 Deaths for Bhaal after all.

Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the, floor!

Another one before Orin's betrayal, this one more accurately feeds into her feelings about her existence and how she felt about being Bhaalspawn.

I'm so sick infected with where I live Let me live without this empty bliss Selfishness I'm so... I'm so sick

A classic! This tends to represent Tamasvi's feelings in Act 1 and Act 2; her confusion and feelings about the Urge, the terror of it taking over and fighting for control.

I liked Halocene's cover of it for Tamasvi, it feels softer than the original in a way that suits her better.

I don't know what's worth fighting for Or why I have to scream I don't know why I instigate And say what I don't mean I don't know how I got this way I'll never be alright

Getting into Act 3 and Post-redemption. She might have defied Bhaal, but she is very afraid of falling back into her old lifestyle and her new found freedom being lost.

And I fear my destiny Will this curse follow me? I study to be the opposite breed And fear when I see similarity

One of my favourite songs and very much inspired Tamasvi and her story. I love the outright claims to divinity, the rejection of what others think of the struggles she has around her new life and attempts at a better morality.

I am not a woman, I'm a God I am not a martyr, I'm a problem I am not a legend, I'm a fraud Keep your heart, 'cause I already got one

Outfits

Cult Leader

As the Chosen of Bhaal, Created from his Flesh and leader of his cult, The Child of Bhaal generally remained masked and her face hidden. This included ceremonies, red room appearances and even when she first met the Chosen of Bane.

It mostly served as a way for The Child of Bhaal to lose her sense of self and only function as the conduit for her father.

When she took on the mantle of Death Stalker and Madam Priestess. Only Helene, then Orin and Scelartis Fel saw her face. Until a certain handsome younger man entered her life anyhow.

Adventuring Times

When Tadpoled, Tamasvi mostly wore black padded armour that made it easy to keep the stains out. This is 100% stolen from a corpse she found and she absolutely ignored Shadowheart's disgust when she tried it on. As a warlock/rogue, she prefers light armour and soft soled shoes to do her work. The collar hides the bite marks too!

Even post-tadpole, Tama prefers to wear black, light clothes that allow her to move quietly and blend into the dark. She has been persuaded not to just loot clothes off corpses now though.

The Daisy Dress

One Figaro special, inspired by the "Elegant Robes" (Daisy dress) in the game! When she wears it is spoilers, but I wanted specifically to not put her in black or red, so white and gold felt like a good opposite!

[msclaritea]

And sony pictures damn well knows it. No one was looking for Dakota Johnson as a superhero, and the public bitterly complains about these companies making sleazy cult leader Jared Leto even richer. Although, considering his passion project, there's no telling how much kompromat dude has.

But no, this is incredibly irresponsible and now Sony just like their buddies at warner bros have done MORE damage to the comic books genre. Just remember folks, Madame Web is a SONY-led project NOT Disney.

[isleofdarkness]

UnSafe Adults

Warnings- mentions of past rape, mentions of child abuse, mentions of underage prostitution, mentions of human trafficking, drug mentions, murder mentions, attempted murder mentions

-

Maleficent- if they had a week they wouldn't be able to name all the things she's done. She would have them beaten or killed for sneezing without permission. Just stay away from her. There's even a system on the Isle where messengers cross gang lines to warn the entire island that Maleficent is stepping out.

Gaston and the Bimbettes- victim-blaming misogynists. Gaston gets way too handsy. It's un unspoken rule among the Isle Kids that if Gaston is near, guys keep track of the girls until it's safe.

Hans- Hans created the beginning of the human trafficking issue on the Isle. If you're around him, buddy system. Harriet will actually leave her ship when Hans is stepping out so that she can follow him and make sure he doesn't kidnap a kid. Plus there's his treatment of Anna and how he treated Constantine (Hans II)

Bill Sykes- ever wondered why Chaos is partially paralyzed and why Agony has a bionic arm and a metal leg? Yeah, that was his fault. He tried to blow up their house to wipe them out but Chaos's magick manifested despite the barrier and he managed to keep himself and his sister alive. Bill has tried again and they all know he'd kill anyone else, too. Plus he sells drugs and has created a massive problem where he gets kids hooked on drugs and, as the only real money-paying job is prostitution, created a lot of underage prostitution and human trafficking

Jafar- they've all heard what Jafar does to Jay. They know he's a pervert. Stay away from him and his shop and, whenever possible, keep Jay away from him, too.

Evil Queen- victim-blaming and the fact that she seems dedicated to saying something to make people snap so that she has an excuse to send Maleficent's men after them.

de Vil elders- Cruella and Cecil. Yes, they are cursed and yes, they know she's extremely mentally ill, but those two are dangerous. They recognize that those two need help but, since they are all children, they know they cannot give it and thus should stay away.

Horned King- please report all Horned King sightings to Harriet Hook so that she can declare an Isle lockdown. Everyone remembers the corpses of the kids he killed, even those who weren't yet born when it happened. He will do it again.

Chernabog- y'all he ate someone in the middle of the bazaar. No one knows what Justice did but no one has seen him in years after that. They are all very grateful. Report any Chernabog sightings to Justice Olympian immediately so she can put the fear of the gods back into the Isle.

Madam Mim- back before the barrier was completely finished, she used her powers to make one of the kids Hook's crew had adopted (Murph's older sister) rot and wither. None of the kids saw it, but the adults will never forget. Fear of Madam Mim is practically in their genetic code.

Nerissa- she tried to rip out Agony's eyes to steal her magick. She tried to drain the life out of Harriet, Ginny, and Sammy. She will try and they might not be able to stop her, so everyone needs to stay at least twelve feet away from her.

Mr Dark- yeah, he's a rapist.

Rasputin- he's a major creep and he's tried to kill all of his children at least once.

Mother Gothel- she hasn't done anything yet but she treats Ginny so shittily everyone is sure she will.

Drizella Tremaine- she is so extremely racist.

Judge Doom- he tried to kill Harriet and some sins cannot be forgiven.

Claude Frollo- he's a rapist and a child abuser and a cult leader

Lyle Rourke- he's a frequent customer of some of the brothels and Ginny has lost count of the amount of times she's had to save someone's life once he was done with them.

Stabbington Brothers- something about them just gives off rapist vibes so the kids stay away.

Lawrence- he got into a massive beatdown with Facilier and the kids like Facilier more than they like him.

-

Past actions cause present concern-

Madame Medusa- she kidnapped a child

Percival McLeach- he kidnapped a child

Stromboli- serial child kidnapper and human trafficker

Nasty Nanny- child abuser

-

Avoided by association- Creeper, Lord Ombra, Mr Snoops

Has never been seen- Ravana, Surtr, Oogie Boogie, Zhan Tiri, Red Faerie, Blue Faerie, Mother Earth, Father Time, Pitch Black

[basicallyjaywalker]

For the OC ask game

Jackie Fei: 1, 11, and 19

Hannah Stone: 4, 12, and 24

Roxie Andrews: 8, 20, and 25

TOASTY!!!!! Back again to allow me to lore dump (ty for the ask!!!!)

Jackie Fei:

1: Her voice? Hmm, I don't have a voice claim for her yet but I always imagined it as very clear and firm, like a bell ringing the time. There's something very sure in the way she speaks.

11: Her family life? Hmm, in terms of biological family, her parents are dead. Her relationship with her mother is very loose, built on stories she's told by those who knew her. She knows nothing about her father, since he was someone her mother met long after she lost touch with the other elemental masters.

She was raised by a caretaker named Madame Donadieu who really, really didn't like her. Treated her more like a servant than a child. Jackie doesn't consider her family, but does acknowledge that woman raised her, unfortunately.

Her family as she knows it now is her team and the ninjas. Master Twyla is the closest thing to a mom she's ever had and she considers Misako like a second mom. Kai is very close to an annoying brother. She, Hannah, and Roxie all have a close connection, each due to the similarities they share in their pasts. Traumabonding talks at 3 AM when?

19: Reaction to betrayal? Absolutely crushed, but depending on the severity of the betrayal, ready to cut ties. Worst case scenario, you've also got a pissed off magic-user who it's on sight with.

Jackie stakes a lot in her trust, especially because sometimes she's trusted too easily and it's come back to bite her (Hello, Overlord). Betraying her, getting her or her friends hurt in the process, is an excellent way to make a terrible enemy.

Hannah Stone:

4: Her insecurities? Feeling weak or helpless. When she was still on Chen's Island, she constantly dealt with taunts of her being weak. She was constantly beaten and bruised to train her to take on every other elemental master in the future. As a result, she's very insecure about being vulnerable and it takes a lot of trust from her to see her in any state that's not trying to be "tough."

12: Romantic life? Mwahaha, shipping chart time

Her first girlfriend was Skylor! Though she didn't know that Skylor was Chen's daughter and figured she was the child of another cult member, like Kyle was. Skylor was sometimes sent to check on her and take care of her and they ended up taking a liking to each other. Unfortunately, you shouldn't combine the daughter of a manipulative cult leader who has yet to unlearn her brainwashing and the volatile human weapon he's training, that's not healthy for either of them. They broke things off right before Hannah and Kyle escaped. They're on good terms post-s4, but anything romantic has been tabled.

She and Nataly had something for a little while, but it didn't last. It was way too soon after Hannah left Chen's Island and she still wasn't willing to be emotionally open or available. They're still good friends and close confidants.

Her and Kai... well, they're kind of my end game. They mesh well with each other. Whereas Kai's mellowed out more already, Hannah's still got that hotheadedness. I think he'd provide her with some stability and support she desperately needs. Plus, I love couples who, while they bicker and poke fun at each other, still love each other all the same.

Bonus: Kai helps her cut and dye her hair sometimes. When they'd been dating for a while, she got red streaks and he helped her put them in.

24: What motivates her? Two things:

Self-motivation: spite and malice! Listen, is it super healthy? No. But something that kept her from turning tail and running during the Tournament was going in there and winning the damn thing so she could spit in Clouse's stupid face. Often, that desire to spit in the face of whoever is what drives her to do other things. Bonus if that whoever is a shitty authority!

External motivation: protecting her friends/family. While the opportunity to spit in Chen's stupid face kept her going on the Island, it was her friends who got her there to begin with. They were going to go and she wanted to keep them safe. She knew the Island and Chen better than them, so she swallowed her fear and came with.

Roxie Andrews:

8: What she likes to eat? Anything home-cooked tbh. Homecooked meals for her were a rarity and it shows that you care enough to put time and effort into making something for her, and that means a lot. It can taste terrible even and she'll still love it.

20: Reaction to a mystery love letter? Schoolgirl giggling and daydreaming about who it could be. Flustered and embarrassed but in a good way!!! Absolutely telling all of her friends about it.

25: Why I enjoy her? Roxie is one of my most down-to-earth characters, compared to the others. She's unshakeable. She's caring. She's one of the few who are so genuinely goodhearted and noble that I have trouble imagining her turning evil or hurting people. There's something about her that just makes me want to hold her and give her only good things. I gave her parental issues and a crippling sense of self-doubt instead, but that's neither here nor there.

Also, it's really funny to imagine her dealing with her team. She is the leader because she is the most stable of the six, which isn't saying much. She's got them all on child leashes except for Jackie, who just cannot be the leader because she's too likely to get herself killed. Somebody get this poor girl an aspirin.

Original ask game here!