#please at least do not actively harm me. easy enough but no they go out of their way! !!! to hurt! !! i don't get that! !!! why! !?!?!

[lastoneout]

Ngl the concept of natural talent has done so much harm to our relationship to art and I hate it. No one is naturally talented at anything, get that idea out of your head. Artists are not like, special or gifted or blessed or whatever, we're just people who like art enough to keep making it, and thus there is nothing stopping you or anyone else from making art. You were not born without the artist gene and thus doomed to never find joy in drawing or singing or acting or sculpting, you're a person and people have ALWAYS made art.

It just like, it fucking kills me so much every single time I hear someone say that they would love to draw but they're just "naturally bad" at it and so they can't, especially when they then contrast themselves against me and imply I have some natural talent that means I can be an artist because no!! I don't!! The only reason I'm "good" at drawing is bcs I never stopped. I picked up a crayon as a baby and I never put it down and so I have like 27 years of experience drawing, that's why I'm "good" at it. So please trust me when I say anyone can draw. And cook. And paint and sing and act and dance. You were not born lacking, you're just new to it! You just have to keep going, you'll get better!

I just...it's so fucking heartbreaking to constantly hear the people around me essentually claim that they were born incomplete and thus they can never have fun drawing or singing or just making art. That's a horrible thing to believe, and I know our society does nothing but reinforce it by punishing us for not being perfect and making a mockery of amatures and pushing the talent myth, but trust me, you were not born wrong. There is no "make art gene" that you're missing. As cheesy as it sounds, you actually can learn to do almost anything if you put your mind to it. It might not be easy, but you are not broken. You're just learning.

I've posted this before but I'll post it again bcs he's right:

Making art is human. You can make art. Hell, you can make bad art! You don't have to improve! Art isn't about good or bad, it's about partaking in a human activity because it makes us happy. I really think society would be a better place if everyone was allowed to make as much art as they want, good or bad, bcs this weird dual reverence for talent and disregard for the actual work that goes into art just serves to bolster the capitalist, AI ridden hellscape that we live in today.

Anyway, if you are one of those people who is holding back from trying some kind of art bcs you're not talented, do me the favor of trying again. I want to see all of the beautiful, earnest, imperfect art my fellow humans make. We need that now, honestly. So please, don't give up. Make art. And if you can't, well, at least try to support the people around you who do, even if they aren't churning out masterpieces. Trust me, it's good for you. It's good for all of us.

[mageofseven]

How Many Kids The Boys Would Want

This is just a cute post I thought of and decided to do.

All of this is with the Boys under the assumption that:

They believe the pregnancy would be easy or at least normal for their partner (nothing like my series were MC has their kid and there's a health risk in every pregnancy)

That they as a couple are in a stable place in life and are able to handle parenthood.

Based on the assumption that no outside force would try to harm them or go against them for having children.

Also, I wanna try adding Mephisto to my posts for now on just to get some practice with him. I still haven't seen him much in the games, but I've been reading posts and stories with him in them so I feel I have at least some basic understanding of his character and would like to practice writing him.

So yeah, I'm adding him to this post, but also please send me requests involving Mephisto (it can still be with other characters too) so I can practice with this man.

Anyway, onto the post!

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer:

Honestly, this man has already raised 7 children and still has to deal with the upkeep on 6 of them.

He is going through the hardest parental exhaustion ever.

However, there was a lot of aspects of raising his siblings that he loved and he wants his partner to experience the same joy he did though would definitely be fine if they didn't want kids all.

His answer:

1-2 (but would have to be convinced into the second one)

Mammon:

This man has a real soft spot for kids, but also a lot of self worth issues and lacks true confidence in himself.

This will ease up a bit when he starts fatherhood and actually experiences being a dad, but it never truly goes a way.

He's still a man who would be genuinely disappointed if his partner didn't want kids, but would also try to pretend otherwise.

His answer:

At least 2. Anymore would take character growth for this man and a bit of convincing.

Leviathan:

Oh. Oh boy. This man is gonna take a lot of convincing to have even one.

That's not because he doesn't like kids or doesn't want to be a parent though.

He just has like 0 self esteem points and is addicted to his otaku lifestyle.

Still, this poor lonely man has daydreamed about having kids.

With the right partner, he can feel secure enough to go lighter on some parts of his lifestyle and be open to having a kid and maybe more.

His answer:

1-2. Anymore and this man would be too overwhelmed so there's no real room for negotiation.

Satan:

This man isn't big on kids, mostly just because of his difficult childhood.

Doesn't hate them, just doesn't see the point in having them.

Still, if he had a partner that was adamant about it, he would agree to have one.

Another man whose view changes a bit after experiencing fatherhood.

He still has to be asked for more kids though; this man doesn't have a strong enough urge for them to ask his partner for one.

So how many can he comfortably be persuaded to have?

His answer:

3. Asking after that number will only cause him to have a long talk with his Kitten about not stretching themselves too thin.

Asmodeus:

Okay, this man loves kids.

If his partner didn't want any, it could possibly be a deal breaker in the long run.

However, he's already long decided how many he wants and all the activities he wants to experience with his kids.

His answer:

2. Any less would make him very disappointed but anymore and he would likely be a bit stressed.

Beelzebub:

Oh lord, this man cannot become a daddy fast enough.

Kids are a necessity with him and even if he tries to be with someone who doesn't want kids, it won't work out in the long.

These kids can come in any way though. You can carry the baby or he'll make changes to his body so he can. Surrogacy is also fine. And adoption!

Adoption is actually a big want of this man too and even if he and his partner already have bio kids, he'll still specifically want to adopt some.

Demon, human, does matter to him. Just adopt some kids who need loving parents.

His answer:

5+, but emphasis on the '+'. This man came from a big family and wants his kids to enjoy having so many siblings too. His partner will have to be the one cut to him off though because this man has no self control 😅

Belphegor:

Oh devil, none

At least that's what he will tell you at first and in fairness, he'll mean it at that this point.

Someone who would love a partner who was in agreement about this, but if not, he will eventually give in and agree to have a child.

Will honestly grow to love his kid more than he ever thought possible.

Another who will never ask for another one, but convincing him for more is not necessarily out of the question.

His answer:

1-2. Those kids would have to be borderline angels for him to even consider a third one though...and since Belphie is their dad, they are more likely to be cute little menaces 🤭💕

Diavolo:

This man wants to be a daddy so badly!

This man can't exactly be with someone who doesn't like kids regardless of how he feels on them.

I mean, he is a literally prince and needs an heir.

Has a similar energy as Beel, but has at least enough grasp on reality to have a stopping point.

His answer:

3-4, but more towards 4. Anymore than this and the prince grows a bit apprehensive. He worries that if he has too many then he won't be able to give them the attention they need and deserve with his limited time from his demanding job.

Barbatos:

This man loves children, but works so much that he worries it would be impractical and even selfish for him to have them.

Would be comfortable with a partner who doesn't want kids because of this.

If his partner really, really wanted kids though he would eventually relent, but not until after a period of preparation to help make sure the pregnancy and the early childhood of their kid goes smoothly.

Yes, that's the kind of planning this future-seeing man sees as critical.

His answer:

1-2. His partner is really gonna have to beg for that second one if they want it though.

Solomon:

A true neutral when it comes to kids.

He has neither the urge to be a father nor a repulsion at the thought.

He'll be comfortable regardless of whether his partner wants kids or not.

If his partner does want children however, he will only agree after a through talk with them.

So much changes in life when people have kids after all and he believes not enough people truly sit down and think about it.

A lot of people treat having kids as something you just have to do in life, like it's nothing more than a milestone they have to hit.

Solomon wants to make sure that if he and his partner are going to be parents then its for the right reasons and with full awareness of the changes and sacrifices that come with it.

If after that talk and a few days of thinking on it (Soli insisted on it), if his partner still wants children then he will gladly take that next step with his little Minx.

His answer:

2. That is the amount he will agree to without question with his partner. Anymore and the sorcerer becomes concerned. Is very much "quality over quantity" when it comes to children and understands that the more kids you have, the less time you have for each individual kid and wants to give his best to any children he helps bring into the world.

Simeon:

This man simply loves children; most angels do and people just assume it's in their nature to.

However, angels don't really have or become parents; they have older siblings who raise the younger ones.

Still, Simeon imagines that it's more or less the same concept and therefore looks forward to it.

If he had a partner who didn't want kids...well they better at least like Luke or wtf are you with the angel that's already technically a single father.

Because of Lukey though, Simeon would be content with a partner who didn't want any kids other than the sweet angel child in the mix.

Simeon is a man I can see as agreeing to have a lot of kids, but wanting it to at least be a gradual process.

He isn't the type of man who would want or be comfortable with his partner popping a new one out each year.

To give some context, he would only be comfortable having another kid if their youngest was at least 4 or 5.

Really emphasizes focusing on their kids while they're toddlers in order to give them a strong foundation for life.

His answer:

Maybe 5? Again, as long as things go how it's listed above, he's okay with having however many his partner wants, whether it's a big or small number.

Mephistopheles:

This man comes an elite background where there is always a 'proper' way for everything.

When it comes to kids, that means he's been taught two paths: a single child to build up and put resources in to be the perfect heir

Or two kids, the 'heir and the spare' method.

Though he's tried to convince himself that these must be the right way to go about with having children, something about these methods has never sat well with him.

So when he and his partner start talking kids, he has a bit of an internal dilemma to face on the topic.

With Mephisto, the question isn't should he have kids, but how many.

Because of this, the man has a lot of thinking and eventual talking things out with his partner to do.

His answer:

2, but can be persuaded to go against his family's teachings and have a third if it's that important to his partner, but it will take time and some comfort from them.

[conditioned-to-obey]

Hello sir, I want to respectfully add some thought i have on the whole "Virgin kink" subject (For some context not a role play scenario but a real virgin which is how most of the community likes it and treats it).

sorry if it's a bit long, it's a topic that I think isn't talked about enough and I know how delicate and dangerous it can be.

The person who is a virgin (regardless of gender) will always be more susceptible to being manipulated, put into situations where they are unaware of the full implications of their actions or the risk of them, the oversexualization of our culture and the pressure to be sexually active "to prove something" is more present than ever, because of all this the age of virginity loss is low in all countries but mostly in less developed ones, in the united states is on average between 16 and 17 years, in uk between 15 and 16, in Ecuador it is in men between 14 and 16 in such a case at least 68% (approximate) of the virgins are minors.

With this in mind my second point is that unfortunately what it's seen as innocent (in this context) and virgin kink is mostly grooming, navigating the world of BDSM relationships or kink communities is not easy and in many cases not completely safe more when we talk  about people who are just starting their sex life, little they know about their limits and tastes (less n practice). 

That they will probably look for role models or mentors on the whole subject in more experienced older people who have a great  opportunity to take advantage of their vulnerability most do not havea support system other people with similar experiences to tell what is happening and they let it go believing that probably they only feels like this 'Cause they've never done it before.

Add to this that a person can lie about their own age really easily, both in real life and on social media (and if i'm honest, most of people are not interested in making sure they are of legal age, weird no?) and you get the perfect recipe for some nasty and illegal things.

The point of all this is that please take with great caution that someone has a virgin kink no one want other pepleo to be taken advantage of, no one wants some sub just started to be manipulated and put in harmful situations, take care of yourselves and your mutuals.

I love this community, it has helped me to meet wonderful people and get to know myself and be happier then ever with my sex life, but I understand that it leaves many people in a context of vulnerability that we have to express and take care of. 🌿

Great points. This and many more reasons are why I do not participate or enjoy the connotations of sexualizing virginity. It's harmful rhetoric that does in fact create a false sense that freshly 18 virgins should jump into kink and sex.

Explore yourself first. Become familiar with self pleasure and your body. Become familiar with vanilla sex first with someone who cares about you, that you are safe and comfortable with. Then branch out further.

Vanilla first, kink later. Always.

It's not going anywhere, you can always take your time. There is no need to rush. Besides unfair societal pressure to lose, change or sexualize virginity. There is nothing wrong with virginity, it's a social construct. There is no indicator to tell if someone is a virgin or not. It simply does not matter, it cannot be measured. The only people it should matter to is you personally. If you put value in it, first times should be special. Approached without pressure, with care.

There is however something wrong with someone who seeks out virgins, because they are usually seeking out inexpirence, naivety, and unsure individuals who don't have a lot of practice standing their ground.

Be safe out there, dolls.

[mmriesoftvat]

CHARACTER ANALYSIS: WANDERER VS CYNO.

i've talked extensively to people about my thoughts on this, so i'm going to preface this entire post with my OPINION that wanderer is playing around during this fight. he's incredibly strong and has hundreds of years of fighting experience over the other contestants. he was ordered to keep an eye on them, not to actually harm them. THAT SAID, "playing around" also doesn't mean not doing anything. he's clearly still fighting, but i think the difference is that he's enjoying himself more than he anticipated. and of course, there are contestants that brought him a decent enough challenge and even tested his skills. but ULTIMATELY wanderer was not throwing his full strength into the ring. he was taking it easy and holding himself back. please don't come at me.

that said, let's get on with it!

here we have our first screenshot. he's not touching layla, he merely is taking the diadem from her. it's a huge blink and you'll miss it moment, and i had to slow the video way down to capture this shot because of how fast he's moving. had he been more serious, wanderer would have at least done something more. this is the first hint we see that he's holding back/taking things semi easily. he's just taking it and going.

i really love this shot of her confusion. layla has no idea wtf just happened. wanderer is a zoomy boy, okay? very "hi bye!". i love it. she's heckin confused, probably didn't even see him.

oh but faruzan definitely saw him. now she's mad. it had just been between her and layla, and now EVERYONE'S there, all fighting for the diadem. competition just got more high stakes for her. go faruzan, get your crown.

THIS was the first moment i realized wanderer wasn't being serious. if he were actually competing, he probably wouldn't have slowed down/stopped to stare at faruzan. everyone else was in it to win. he's just holding out the diadem and. dare i say, even taunting her? hat guy you silly billy.

bonus dialog after he stole the diadem right out from layla's arms. again, zoomy and zippy boy.

look at he go.

this is the first time he's being targeted. notice how he's not attacking her back. he's attacking her device in self defense.

self. defense. though, i will admit that he does throw out some half assed blades later on, but for now, he's protecting himself.

so far, yet again, he's moving in self defense. i don't know for sure if he knew the others were laying in wait and purposely flew toward them. i feel like tighnari definitely planned on hitting him, but wanderer is flying at the moment, and is still moving fast. quick reflexes though, i'm impressed. wish i could be like that.

this is his expression to cyno's weapon being thrown in his direction. to me it looks focused, like he's thinking on the spot and less "i'm going to demolish this guy." wanderer is actively thinking while moving. either for strategy or to dodge, but i love the tiny detail in that his gaze is focused right on that staff, and he looked very in the zone. and of course in the next shot, he uses his own abilities to knock the staff away.

now cyno, on the other hand. cyno is also very focused. he's definitely not playing around. that expression, what little we can see of his eye, very much screams "i'm going to pummel you into the ground." he wants that card. he's here for the win and he's going to take it.

the fact he lands and immediately starts running tells me he's NOT going to hold back. he's throwing his all into this. i love the contrast between him and wanderer. wanderer seems more focused/thinking on the spot on how not to hurt them. whereas cyno is looking to win and wanderer is someone he can target. especially considering wanderer is still holding the diadem. to me it also is very telling how low to the ground cyno is. he's still hunched forward, that guy has speed on his side and he's using every bit of it to get to wanderer.

here is wanderer, readying himself to attack cyno. and again i say he's holding back. because in the next shot-

he's landing on cyno's staff.

i've already talked about and reblogged recently a previous post where i went into detail over how strong wanderer is. if he really wanted to, that staff would not have stopped him from kicking cyno's face. we know cyno is strong, he's incredibly strong. but wanderer is also hyper strong and can do things that i don't think cyno can. plus, it looks like, to me at least, that he didn't even aim for cyno's face. the staff came up to block cyno, and wanderer immediately landed on it. there are a lot of things he could have done to take cyno out, but DIDN'T. every time i think about this entire cutscene, this moment right here is the biggest giveaway that wanderer's not being wholly serious. he landed on the staff and stared down cyno, and then jumped off. cyno may be taking this fight serious, but wanderer is holding back.

wanderer DOES throw out an attack, but i feel like it's him knowing that cyno's also fast as hell and can dodge easily. going back to the beginning, he didn't hurt layla or faruzan because he didn't want to hurt them. since cyno's also very strong, i'm pretty sure wanderer was comfortable enough to throw something out, knowing cyno could handle it. in that same vein, i don't think he got that chance with tighnari earlier, because he was too busy dodging all those arrows. i digress.

wanderer attacked because he knew cyno could easily dodge.

like so. cyno's able to block the attack because cyno is a very skilled fighter. not that none of the other contestants aren't skilled, but wanderer also just stopped to stare at faruzan rather than attack her. he had every opportunity to throw his anemo at her and layla, but he's only doing it with cyno. probably because cyno is also very fast and quick on the reflexes. still, it's a cool scene, it's my favorite cutscene in the entire game.

i mean, look at the way cyno's sliding to dodge. guy's practically doing the splits. but no, more seriously, look at the expression on his face. he's just as focused and determined, though i still think they're both focused and determined for different reasons. like i said earlier, cyno wants that card, wanderer just wants to do his job and make it out without anyone getting seriously hurt.

again, wanderer being really fast and dodging cyno's attacks. he's still throwing out his anemo, but he also flies around to make sure cyno's paying attention first before attacking again.

it's hard to see since even with the video playing really slowly this is what i'm able to get. but cyno was able to block the attack. the fact that wanderer waited until he could tells me he was holding back. were he more serious, he wouldn't have waited. at least, i don't think.

cyno is running so fast here it looks like he's gliding. maybe wanderer is a little more serious at this point. here is an opponent who can match him in speed at the VERY least, if not strength. i would even wager to say he's impressed. he's used to being the lone wanderer, hating the world around him and belittling everyone for being weaker than him. but here comes cyno who can match him in terms of speed and agility. who WOULDN'T be impressed by that? so maybe wanderer is a little more serious about who he's up against, especially considering they've been fighting each other more than anyone else in the competition fought each other. in this last round, at least. doesn't mean overall wanderer is completely serious over the whole competition.

another act of self defense. though i think in this case he didn't exactly have a choice. cyno caught him off guard. wanderer didn't have time to dodge or launch a counter attack -- cyno was too quick for him. no choice but to block the attack.

i feel like in this moment, it looks like wanderer wants to keep fighting cyno. the stare down is really intense, and it's intimidating when you see that cyno's surrounded by electro. the guy is ready to destroy something. i feel like, at least for the briefest of seconds, they both forgot about the competition and were more interested in fighting each other. but kaveh was attached to faruzan's device and flying in really fast.

bonus, i love that layla and faruzan have just been. standing around the whole time. i don't know where tighnari went. probably looking for another angle to shoot wanderer with.

just because wanderer is distracted by a flying kaveh, doesn't mean cyno is. more proof that wanderer isn't completely serious. why else would he turn his back on an opponent? cyno's not distracted, he's gonna get that diadem and win. he's so determined.

kaveh isn't even a threat. he's flying right by everything, probably too panicked and confused to let go of faruzan's device. but wanderer is reaching out anyway to spin him around. which, to me is the whole point: he may have had some enjoyment and flying around, but ultimately, the diadem was not his to take and the competition wasn't his to win. cause if he wanted to win or cared at all, he would've just taken the diadem to the podium himself. which wasn't what he was ordered to do but that's beside the point. the entire fight was nothing more than idle time wasted (and some unspoken bonding with cyno, i'm convinced of it.)

he's actively spinning kaveh around, though i think the device kaveh is still holding is helping. i don't think wanderer really intended to hurt anyone, he's just moving them around, toying with all of them.

cyno's still coming for the diadem. he wants it. but wanderer purposely holds it out. maybe he planned for it? because cyno succeeds in knocking it out of wanderer's hands. it goes flying up, leaving it open for kaveh to use his toolbox to grab it.

which of course, the force sent kaveh tumbling head over heels right to the podium. had wanderer not grabbed him and redirected him, wouldn't have happened.

the rest of the scene is kaveh basically winning the competition. but my ultimate conclusion is that wanderer was holding back. he didn't start attacking the other contestants until cyno came along, because cyno is just as terrifying as he is. i feel like wanderer enjoyed the fight, and would have continued had kaveh not shown up with the device, which provided a perfect opportunity for wanderer to redirect him and send him flying to the finish line.

wanderer was in the competition because of orders, and didn't NEED to fight. he could have continued to toy with everyone, but cyno brought out a different kind of focus in him. i'd like to think he enjoyed that fight, but he was definitely holding back. there were moments where wanderer could have kicked cyno in the face or launched him, but he didn't. and the only reason he attacked was in part because he knew cyno could dodge, and in part because he was keeping cyno distracted long enough for kaveh to come flying in.

it's another testiment to wanderer's strength and even character development. it's one of the reasons he's my favorite character, because while he's still the loner and an asshole at times, he does show his respect toward people in his own way.

[citrusreadstoa]

Reading The Hidden Oracle: Chapter 36 (SPOILERS)

"Sherman Yang's chariot, which was still circling the statue's legs in a vain attempt to electrocute its kneecaps." Is this the same flying chariot that the Apollo and Ares cabins were bickering over during The Last Olympian and that the Lost Hero trio were picked up by at the start of Heroes of Olympus? I have a headcanon that the Ares cabin felt bad about their lack of participation after the Second Titanomachy and gave it back to the Apollo cabin and that's why it's stated as belonging to the Apollo cabin in The Lost Hero. Now with Sherman using what I assume is the same chariot 'cause there's no way the camp has multiple flying chariots laying around, that means they share it sometimes! Awww I love this background storytelling.

"Hades used to love sneaking up on me that way and yelling, 'HI!' just as I shot an arrow of death." The way Apollo knows Hades is very, very different to the characterization of Hades we're familiar with. To Apollo, he sounds like the weird uncle who shows up every winter solstice and encourages the kids to participate in dangerous activities that their parents would never let them do.

"A plague arrow" That thing is a giant metal statue. It does not have organs, nor an immune system, nor any flesh whatsoever. A plague arrow is possibly the least effective weapon that could possibly be used against it other than maybe a feather on a stick. "disease to kill the Colossus's animating power" Mmm still dubious but okay.

"And... if you fail?" "I won't have the strength to try twice. You'll have to . . . Find an arrow, try to summon some sickness, make the shot" Y'ALL CONNED ME. We've all been going "give Will plague powers" WHEN IT'S IMPLIED THAT ALL CHILDREN OF APOLLO NATURALLY HAVE HAD PLAGUE POWERS ALL ALONG. Or at least it's common enough that Apollo has faith Kayla and Austin can pull it off if he fails! So all, most, or some children of Apollo can conjure up sickness, but they either don't know or simply choose not to. Maybe Will stands a chance in Tartarus after all. After all, Annabeth made it through and all she had was superpowered weaving and the ability to bruise any immortal deity's ego.

"Sherman Yang's chariot, minus Sherman Yang." Uhh, Canoe Duo, what did you do? Tell me Sherman Yang isn't dead. All y'all had to do was tell him you have a plan and you need to borrow the chariot. "Nico convinced them to disembark." You threw them off the chariot when it was dozens of feet in the sky because talking would have taken too long? Will, you're the medic! You know you're gonna have to get them fixed up and yet you deliberately cause them bodily harm!

"after that shadow travel, Nico is going to pass out any second." "'No, I'm not,' Nico complained, then passed out." First of all, funny. Second of all, Nico got seriously nerfed. There's no way he's still recovering from fading halfway out of existence. Even with the inconsistency of demigods' powers throughout this series, Nico could open a passage to Asphodel and drag someone (Bryce Lawrence) into it without even touching them. Now he tries shadow traveling within seeing distance and passes out. Yeah, he took Will with him, but that should be easy as pie after taking three people and a forty foot tall statue overseas. And it was within seeing distance. How's he gonna survive Tartarus again, let alone save one or more people from down there? With this new revelation, I seriously have more faith in Will making it through than Nico.

"Another time, in a Stockholm tavern, I met this god who was smoking hot, except his talking sword just would not shut up." My friend tells me this is Magnus Chase reference. I think. Or it might've been Kane Chronicles. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure they said Magnus Chase. Neither of us have read either of those series.

"The arrow quivered." Do not apologize for that pun. Lol. Apollogize

"PRITHEE, SHOOTING IS NOT MY PURPOSE." PRITHEE (exclamation): please (used to convey a polite request)

"'FORSOOTH,' said the arrow." FORSOOTH (adv.): indeed (often used ironically or to express surprise or indignation)

Why does this arrow talk so loudly. Such a small thing, yet such large bellows.

"In a flash of silver light, the camp's magical barriers collapsed." Fuck.

"'You can't hear this arrow talking?' Judging from her wide eyes, I guessed the answer was, No, and does hallucinating run in the family?" This made me laugh. She really must've thought he'd gone mad. Too much time in the Grove of Dodona and whatnot.

"'I'm fine!' Kayla yelped . . . splattering drops of red all over the chariot's floor." This just about sums up the demigods' attitude toward injury.

"Only one of the missiles was unbroken, and its shaft was warped." But he's gonna make the shot anyway, 'cause he's awesome. Odd how he keeps calling them missiles, though. It never occurred to me that the word for missiles might have existed long before the missiles we know today were invented.

"STARTEST THOU: PLAGUEY, PLAGUEY, PLAGUEY." That friend I was talking about earlier: This was the line that took her out. THIS line. Can you believe...? Of all the jokes.

"My plan would take much too long, if I could even remember how to make a plague arrow. This was my punishment for breaking an oath on the River Styx." How does he know? Does he just... know? This is for using the whole anthill as a giant instrument and shooting arrows at the ants, right? So we know the geyser oath to save Meg doesn't supersede the oath on the Styx against using arrows or instrumental music and this is the punishment for it. I don't like how the Styx oath is just an excuse to do certain plot points. This plan not working could easily just be blamed on Apollo's faulty memory or human error (which is possible now that Apollo is human and really even if he weren't). Anyway, I wonder if he's ever gonna break a Styx oath and then, like it was said that Styx oaths could take a lifetime to wear you down and ruin you, the punishment doesn't take effect so soon after and he lives in fear of that coming back to bite him.

"Hey, Bronze Butt!" Classic weak Percy insult. "Over the Colossus's head" Shadow travel can't make new shadows. The volcano thing was a one-time incident and that was because the mountain gods working for Gaea interfered. Unless hellhounds have more advanced shadow travel than Underworld demigods.

"The weekend was here." I like that introduction for Percy. He's like "I got time on the weekend. Might drop by." And then the weekend comes and he shows up for this epic battle instead of relaxing weekend-related activities. Story of his life.

This post was way longer than it ought'a have been. I've written an essay. Not sorry.

[nimue-hidden-lake]

Leaves, sweets, spider webs, and full moon!

-@all4theluvoflizzy

Romantic F/O Take-Over ~ Halloween Themed Ask-Game

Woha, I did not expect it at all! Thank you for the ask again! I will try my best to answer and not fumble here… Especially since this is a takeover. I had too much fun writing these.

(Other ask here)

Ask Game Here  

F/O: Rinne Amagi (I hope that is ok since the f/o was not specified)

Note: Rinne uses ‘she/her’ on the s/i and uses female gendered terms. While one may refer to my Ensemble Stars s/i however preferred (they are fine with any pronouns), please do not gender me unless close. I want to  point it out in case it is causing confusion to someone.

“Kyahaha! Hm? Questions for me ya say? Like an interview? Heh, easy peasy, bring it! … ‘Don’t embarrass yourself’ ya say? Aww, c’mon. I’d never. Loosen up a little!  … I’m embarrassing you already? And we didn’t even start yet? Oh yeesh, someone’s in a bad mood~ Anyway, ‘nough talking. Bring it!”

Leaves – In general, what’s your favorite fall activity to do with S/I?

“Putting me already on the spot, don’t ya? I like that. Favorite fall activity… Y’know, dragging Ann out’s a hassle sometimes. Anyways, ya ever heard of sumo wrestling? Sure sure, it’s technically held all year and crap but the last big one’s a big deal y’know. Sumo kyushu Basho, was it? Kyahaha, gotta place your bets right and it’s always so damn satisfying seeing your picked sumo wrestler win! … Well, lady luck ain’t favoring me, that’s for sure… I ain’t winning much compared to Ann… 

Hm? An activity which is more autumn specific? Alright alright fine. Let’s see… Y’know, nothin’ too fancy but it’s fun to just walk around and gaze at some autumn leaves here and there. We’ve got some good spots around to look at them. Besides, one of us is always busy taking pictures with their phone of the view and it sure as hell ain’t me. But it’s fun y’know.”

Sweets – Are you the type to want to rush Halloween & start Christmas/Winter activities early? What about S/I?

“Pff, what’s the rush with any of that? ‘sides, not like I ain’t busy myself with events during the month. There’s no rush! Enjoy the month while it lasts, aye? Even got a costume ready and I’m more than ready to drag the guys out once we finished our work for the day, whether they like it or not!

Ann though… Yeesh, where do I even begin? She’s got no spirit for Halloween whatsoever. She sometimes forgets what month it even is y’know. Then again, she herself said that she ain’t a halloween gal and enjoys Christmas more. Like, no harm in that, but when I asked her if she ever tried it out I just got a ‘not really’. I’ll drag her out in a costume and force her to party, heh. Some fun never hurts~!”

Spider webs – Tell us exactly what about S/I captivates you!

“Huuh, we’re getting pretty personal here. Someone’s curious. But I gotta answer, don’t I? … I never really thought ‘bout, at least not actively y’know. Hmm… She can surprise someone when she wants to. Never expected her to be as lively as she’s now. ‘cuz when first meeting Ann she was a stuttering mess. Oh, not just that, but also seemed to not know how to have fun. Sure, old habits die hard, but it’s adorable to just see her havin’ fun and bein’ dragged around for a change. Well, there’s more to it than that but I’m just tryin’ to get my point across. It’s hard to put into words. Ya get me, right?”

Full Moon – Imagine you and S/I were going on a nice, peaceful, walk together during the night. During this walk, you decide it'd be a nice surprise to lead them somewhere sentimental/fun, without outright telling them where you two were going. You know them well enough to know they'd enjoy the location though, of course, so where would you take them?

“A casino.  … Hey, don’t glare at me like that! I’m kidding! Even I know that’d kill the mood~ How about a b— Haha, ok, you win. I’m not gonna finish that one!

Let’s put the jokes aside for now. Ain’t great with the sentimental stuff so somewhere fun it is! Hmm… … You know, I am seriously starting to consider the casino. Or a pachinko parlor. Actually, that’s a good idea! Best if it’s the one we met in! Kyahaha! Can’t get any better than that, can it!?”

“That’s it? Pff, told ya it’d be easy peasy~ … Ey, Ann… Why’re you glaring at me like that? I was being honest. ‘sides, as if you hate it. You didn’t run yet, did you? … Heh, knew you’d agree.

Heh, sure as hell had a blast though… More than expected~”

[just-more-trolls]

dumb fantroll ask meme, odd numbers for wyllow

Ok so this is gonna be Long’un I’m gonna put everything under cut

1.  Biggest pet peeves? How much do they annoy you? Are they bad enough to be a deal breaker if someone you were interested did them?

“okay so..im a very patient person and i understand self-loathing..”

“but i have my limits..im not here for a pity-party please dont lament how much of a pathetic asshole you are expecting me to help you only to ignore any advice i give you and continue to lament your shitty life where nothing good happens ever ok???”

“...ok so that was..a rant...uhm...my pet peeve is when people don’t want to crawl out of the pit they’re in..or downright refuse to..mainly because they like the attention..”

3. What are your turn on’s turn off’s? 

“tha-..thats a little personal hello?????”

“i choose to not answer that!!”

5. What is your least favorite and favorite parts of your body? Any feature you pride yourself on? Then least favorite would you change it if you could? 

“my favorite parts? uhm..my horns i guess? and my hips”

“my least favorite are my eyes because i need glasses to see..id change that if i could i guess”

7. What is your least favorite food and why? 

“i cant stand bitter greens like baby spinach..or kale..its just not what my tastebuds like..”

“and venison makes me legitimately ill..like bad stomach ache levels of sick..”

9. What are any tics you might have? Any nervous habits? 

“under extreme amounts of stress ive been told i get the antlerbeast-in-headlights look complete with freezing..”

“im real bad about picking at the skin on my fingers especially if im real anxious..to the point of bleeding sometimes..but it keeps me from picking on the threads of my clothes until theyre unraveling..”

11. What is your earliest memory? Is it a happy or a sad one. 

“my EARLIEST memory is of finding my ancestors hive..and consequently also finding my ancestors journals on herbology and botany..and its a happy one because its what jumpstarted my own career in it~”

13. If you could have any super power what would it be? 

“i want to command plants!!”

15. What would you do with the ability to see ghosts? Would they scare you or would you be interested in them? 

“id ask them about their life..or help them move on if they dont realize theyre dead..id also keep journals of everything i was told; preservation of history and all that”

17. How good a liar are you? How often do you lie to others. 

“i cant lie for the life of me..like ill withhold the truth but straight up lie?? id die from the guilt.......or by the hands of whomstever i lied to”

19. How far would you go to be perfect? Are you ok with flaws? 

“perfection is an impossibility”

“...that being said uhm..that depends on the..flaw i think..and flaws are subjective..that being said if a flaw is actively harmful to the individual or anyone around them im not as okay..if that makes sense?”

21. How much do you sleep? What is your typical night time routine? 

“a full eight hours~! night time routine is typical: wash up, brush up, jammies on.. i have a cup of tea before bed and i read a little until im done”

23. How good are you with choices? Is it easy to make decisions or do you struggle with them? 

“i...suck at choices if im under pressure to make them.. decisions arent too hard but if there’s weight to them its definitely a lot harder on me..”

25. What is the worst thing you’ve done to someone? Do you regret it? 

“..........theres not a night goes by i dont regret it”

27. How good are you with computers? How much do you use them in every day life? 

“fairly often! i mean im no savant but i know my way around a palmhusk or a tablet”

29. If you knew you had less then a sweep left to live how would you use it? 

“probably by myself.. id quietly wrap up my assets..tend to my garden up until’ my final night before laying myself in the largest patch of flowers and herbs to be consumed by the earth as a way to give back”

31. Which would you prefer you dying before your loved ones, or them dying before you?

“uhm..probably them dying before i would..to spare them the grief”

33. What are your stances on the spectrum? 

“in a social standpoint or a biological standpoint??”

“biologically i lowkey enjoy the diversity..how each group has something unique to them like the lower spectrum of trolls having a higher possibility of psionics..or purples with chucklevoodoos..”

“socially i really wish there wasnt such a divide..and its not like we have a choice in the matter were forced based on our blood color to fall into a certain level of financial and social hierarchy as a form of control and division..”

“honestly if i could give away all my money and not automatically get a refill i would..”

35. If you were empress for a day what would you do? 

“upend the status quo and dismantle the hierarchy..”

“..also give lowbloods a lot of money to live comfortably so they can begin the careers they wanted to do but never had the means to do them”

37. What do you fear loosing most? A possession, your senses, loved one, ect?

“the thing i fear most is losing someones trust in me...to irreparably damage a relationship with no hope of returning...ha..”

39. What is your biggest dream in life and how far would you go to obtain it. 

“i dont know...im pretty content in my life as it is; i have my shop..my garden..my hobbies..i just wish i had someone to share all of this with i guess”

41. Are there any people in your life you miss? What would you do if you could see them again? 

“....apologize..”

43. Do you consider yourself a material troll? If giving up every thing you owned meant eternal happiness would you do it?

“as cluttered and material-filled as my hive is i could give it all up if it meant id find eternal happiness..”

“..that being said i do fear losing everything ive worked on because i..kind of lack a fallback plan..”

[votestaynight2]

10th Day - darkwood,sleepingbeauty(Scene 1)

…Hm. To be honest, I can't quite figure out how to deal with her. But I already know Rider is my ally. The reason I can't calm down is not that Rider is here, it's that――――

"Aren't you going to eat, Rider? Isn't it hard for you to just sit there when we're both eating?" Um, I feel bad because it feels like I'm forcing Rider to fast.

"I will not eat." S-She's mad for some reason. "Why? Servants get hungry too, don't they? Saber ate a lot, even though she didn't say much."

"She is different from us. I am not interested in how humans consume nutrition. And―――your manners do not suit me."

"Oh. You should've said so if you can't use chopsticks." "Eh, Senpai?" "Hold on. I'm going to go get dishes and a spoon for Rider."

"…! ―――Yes, then I'll make an omelet. That'll be quick, right?" "Sakura."

"It's all right. This is your first time eating, right? You're going to be doing a lot of things for me, so please let me do at least this much." Sakura happily says this and comes into the kitchen.

"Oh, how about we make some soup while we're at it? We still have some consomme, right?" "Oh, that sounds good. We have some tomatoes, so let's make this in a flash!"

…Sakura starts to cook for Rider. Rider watches Sakura as she happily starts cooking.

Breakfast is over, and it's now nine o'clock. I skipped school today. Things are getting serious, so I have no intention of going to school until the Holy Grail War ends.

My only reason to go to school was to meet Tohsaka. Now that the reason is gone, there's no meaning in going outside, and most of all―――― It's too dangerous to have Sakura go outside.

"……" Sakura's been looking healthy enough, but we don't know when she'll collapse like she did yesterday. Although she recovered, thanks to Kotomine's treatment, she's walking a thin line.

…I don't know what Zouken intends to do, but I can't let Sakura meet him in her unstable condition. If the crest worm is activated, it'll all be over.

Shinji did it using a drug. But for Zouken, the one who put the crest worm there, it should be easy to activate just by looking at her.

"――――――――" Kotomine said it too. That Sakura won't last long. That I'm the only one who knows about this. …I can't tell Sakura or Tohsaka. I have to end the war before Sakura finds out what I'm doing.

I don't have the power to save Sakura. But the Holy Grail, the thing that is said to grant any wish, should easily be able to save her.

"Senpai? You're making a scary face and acting strange. We skipped school, so I think we can relax…"

"No, we should rest after the war. We have to think about how to win now." "…Senpai. You still want to continue?" I'm taken aback by her uneasy tone.

"……" …I vaguely understood, but Sakura doesn't want to fight. She should know the Holy Grail is the best way to cure her, but she's not even considering it.

…Hatred of battle. Sakura is terrified of harming others. She's right, and I have no intention of contradicting her. Sakura can stay that way. I'm the one who's made her cry all this time. Therefore, it's my job to fight for her.

"―――Yeah, I'm going to continue fighting. If we could talk it out, I'd do it, but we can't be saying that. I don't think Zouken will release you, and I'm sorry, but I can't give him the Holy Grail. …There are four more Masters. I'm going to make you win and have you use the Holy Grail."

"…I'm happy to hear you say that. But… can you fight Tohsaka-Senpai?" "I'll fight her if she gets in our way… Well, I really want to entrust her with something as dangerous as the Holy Grail. I'm sure she can manage it and save you as well."

"…Is… that so? She's a magus. I don't think she will think about someone as weak as me."

"――――――――" I can't say it's not true. …Tohsaka is a nice person. I already know that. But with that aside, Tohsaka is a magus. Last night, she said she would kill Sakura. Even though that might've been the only choice at the time, she was willing to take it.

…So. If the Holy Grail turns out not to be able to save Sakura, she would surely use the Holy Grail, something far superior to Archer, to kill Sakura.

"…You're right. But still, Tohsaka won't be able to do it. She can't kill you." "Eh…? Why do you think so, Senpai?"

"Well, I don't have any proof, but deep down she's an amazing person. I bet the future she chooses is a really happy one where nobody has to die. So it's fine. Tohsaka will surely save you in the end."

"…Um. So about Tohsaka-Senpai. You… um…" "Hm?" "…No, it's nothing. I'll believe in her if you say so."

"Yeah. Then again, it'd be a shame to put everything on her shoulders, and I don't want to just hand it to her in any case. I want to be the one protecting you." I chose to lead Sakura's way, so I can't give that role to anyone else. I'm going to do my best to make Sakura happy.

"…Um, Senpai. I appreciate your concern. But I don't think you're in a state to fight. Saber-san's gone, and you're enemies with Tohsaka-Senpai now. There's no need for you to involve yourself in the Holy Grail War. So please go back to your usual life. …I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"Idiot. That's not your fault. I'm doing it because I want to, and it's not something I can withdraw from now. You should know that too, Sakura."

I participated in this war as Saber's Master. I didn't become a Master because I was dragged into it. I became a Master by choice. Then―――I can't withdraw now.

I'll fight, even if I have to do it alone. I will see this conflict to its end. …This is also my atonement for Saber, who lost her life fighting for my selfish goals.

"…Then no matter what, you will…" "I won't stop. So I think we need to come up with a plan of action. Is that fine with you, Rider?" "I do not mind. You are correct. What is your opinion, Sakura?"

"……" Sakura agrees with silence. …Good, it seems she understands.

"All right. We need a plan, but before that…" I glance at Rider. …I'm getting used to her presence, but I want to do something about this.

"What is it?" "It's about your eyes. Why don't you take off your blindfold when you're in the house? I know about your mystic eyes, so you don't need to hide them, right?" Isn't it uncomfortable?

"…So my beauty is being spoiled by its appearance?" "To be frank, yes. Your clothes may be fine, but isn't it hard to keep that blindfold on? You're beautiful, so why don't you take off that sultry thing?" "That is what he says, Master. I shall consider it, depending on what you say."

"No! Absolutely not!!"

"Huh?" …Wait. Why is Sakura objecting so desperately?

"Why? Doesn't it trouble you to have Rider walking around blindfolded?"

"N-not at all! First of all, she has mystic eyes. What would you do if you're affected by them on accident?" "Hm. Would such a thing ever happen, Rider?"

"Yes. My eyes are more like evil eyes. It would be difficult to keep from targeting you even if I saved my magical energy." "Whoa, are you serious? You can't control your own eyes?"

"No. Hence my title. …But I cannot hope for an effect equaling yesterday. You now know that my eyes are mystic eyes of petrification. This recognition weakens the effect that a surprise attack has, so you should petrify at a slower rate."

"I see. So my body won't suddenly go numb like yesterday?" "It would depend on the situation. The effect will be magnified if you let your guard down."

"Hm. So I just have to not let my guard down, right? Then there's no problem. Even if I'm captivated, you're on my side, so you can dispel me right away."

"Yes. I will not take your life. In that regard, there is no danger." "No, no, I said no…! Rider's eyes aren't just to petrify others!"

"You are right. Then I shall keep them sealed." Sakura lets out a sigh of relief.

"……?" …Hm. I don't really understand, but it seems Rider's going to keep her blindfold on.

"…I see. It bothers me, but if that's what you want, I'll have to deal with it." "Yes, I do not like revealing my face. Please do not bring this up again."

Where did her previous lightheartedness go? Rider is suddenly acting cold now. …She's hard to understand. I guess I just can't get along with her all that well.

"Let's get back on topic. About our future course of action… First of all, you're not to go out of this house, Sakura. It's too dangerous for you to meet Zouken. I'll handle him."

"That is a proper approach. But how will you defeat that magus? Do you have any thoughts?" "――――――――" …I hesitate to answer if she asks me like that. There are several possibilities, but I haven't put any thought into them.

"That's――――" …The choice will likely determine our fate. There are many choices. Of them all, the most realistic and reliable method would be…

"――――I think I should cooperate with another Master. She may not become our ally, but she may help us defeat Zouken if we tell her about the current situation."

"Another Master… Do you mean Tohsaka-Senpai?" "Eh? No, it's not Tohsaka. I know Berserker's Master. Her name's Ilya, and I know she'll listen to me if I go to her and talk."

…And to be honest, I can't leave her all by herself. Leaving Tohsaka aside, I don't know what Zouken will do. He's the kind of guy that would implant a worm in Sakura and force her to fight. Ilya and Berserker should be many times stronger than Zouken in combat, but we're talking about that monster. I'm sure he will use any means possible precisely because he can't beat them in combat. So even those two should be careful.

"Berserker… You believe that mad warrior will become our ally?" "They may not become our ally, but they should at least overlook us for a while. And even if we can't cooperate, I want to warn them at the very least."

The girl that came to this town alone. Ilya was raised as a Master and crowned with the name Einzbern, so she's not a total stranger to me.

"…I see. But Senpai, do you know where this Ilya person is?" "Yeah, she showed me once before. I remember the way. It's a big forest, so I don't think it'll go exactly as planned, but I should make it in half a day."

"Half a day… That means you're going to set out now?" "Yeah. They say to strike while the iron's hot, and if I head out now, I should be back by nightfall."

I was pressed to make a decision, but this is good. Ilya helped me yesterday, so I want to thank her for that.

…And. It might prove fatal for her if I don't tell her about Matou Zouken and that mysterious shadow.

"I'm gonna get going. I'll come back as quickly as possible, so you rest in your room." "―――Okay, Senpai. Then please, at least take Rider with you. She can protect you from anything that might happen."

"Oh, yeah. That's safer for me." …But I can't agree to that. Sakura is also in danger. No, she's in greater danger because she can't oppose Zouken if she meets him.

"No, you protect Sakura, Rider. If Zouken comes, try to avoid battle since that uses your magical energy. Instead, carry Sakura and run away. I'm sure they can't catch up to you." "――――――――" Rider nods obediently, apparently thinking the same thing.

"See, Rider's saying the same thing. You'll be staying home for today." "……But it's dangerous for you too. That forest right now is…" "Don't worry. I'll run away if I think it's dangerous. And Ilya isn't interested in anyone that's not a Master. It's not dangerous for me since I'm not a Master anymore."

I pat her on the shoulder and leave the living room. ―――Well. I'll go to the shed first and find something I can use as a weapon.

Sakura sees me off as I go. A shinai bag with two wooden swords inside and another bag filled with light food are the only things I'm carrying. I didn't bring a map or a compass. It's a route Ilya showed me with her magic. So all I can rely on is my memory and my instinct.

"…It's before ten. An hour on the taxi, and four hours on foot…" I hope that's all the time it'll take.

I'll ask the taxi driver to go slow and find the entrance to the forest. I'll get off the taxi when I find the entrance, and continue on foot from there. ―――I'll make it to Ilya's castle before sunset if I take the shortest route. I'll figure out what to do next once I've met Ilya.

"――――Shirou." "Huh?" …Then. I hear a familiar voice from behind me. It sounds practical, and cold depending on how you hear it. But my name is said politely, with as much intimacy as she can show.

"――――Sab…" I almost say the name, voicing my impossible wish. "Wait. I must speak with you before you leave."

"――――Ri… der." I turn around and accept reality. Rider is in front of me. The girl who used to call me with that tone is no longer in this world.

"Fine, but what is it? I'm in a hurry, so please make it short." "I only have one question. You said you will protect Sakura. But I have not heard your reasons for doing so, Emiya Shirou."

"Are you saying you can't trust me?" "Correct. I do not know you as well as Sakura does." "……"

That's a natural question. Rider protects Sakura, not me. As a potential ally, she just wants to know my intentions.

"……Phew. I'll only say this once, so don't ask me about this again. It's not that I'm putting undue importance on it. It's just not something to go around telling people." "………"

"―――Look. I like Sakura. Not only that. I had sex with her last night." "…It seems so. Sakura's magical energy was stable this morning. Sakura would have been sick again if she did not get outside provision. ―――What of it?"

"That's all. I like Sakura, and I made love to her. That's the only reason I'm protecting her. It's natural for a man to protect his woman, right?" "――――――――"

"…Then you are fighting for Sakura? Your goal is to save Sakura. You have no intention of letting her obtain the Holy Grail for your benefit?"

"Well, I am planning to use it. I don't know what the Holy Grail is, but if it can bring Sakura happiness, I'm going to make full use of it." "――――Bring Sakura happiness?" "Yeah. I've made Sakura suffer until now. So I want to compensate for that by making her happy."

Rider just stands there without saying anything. …It seems she understands why I'm embarrassed to tell people about this.

"―――All right. I answered your question, so it's my turn. I have a request to ask of you." "O-Okay, I shall answer it to the best of my ability."

"It's easy. Can you not say my name with that accent you just used? Can you pronounce it properly? It's Shirou. Don't drop the 'u' and pronounce it clearly."

"…? …I-I understand. Shirou is fine?" "That still sounds weird. You don't have to put any unusual accents on it." "Um, S-Shirou. Shirou. Shirou. Shirou, no, Shirou."

Rider struggles as she practices pronouncing my name. ……Yeah. She has a sharp image because of her blindfold and her black clothing, but Rider is actually sociable. I'm just guessing, but I think Rider is a klutz in her private life.

"―――Shirou. …Hm, so is this the correct pronunciation, Shirou?" "Yeah, it's perfect. I'm sorry I asked you a selfish request."

"Selfish…? You did not like to be called with the accent I used, right? Then I believe it is right for you to correct me." "――――You're wrong. I did like the way you called me."

…That's right. I liked it, so I don't want anyone else saying it the same way. I know it's a stupid thing to care about, but she was the only one I wanted to hear call me like that.

"I'm sorry. It's really just something selfish. It's not that you're at fault." "I understand. I shall not inquire about it if you say so." "Okay, then I'm going. I'm leaving Sakura to you, Rider!"

I wave to Rider and start running. I'll go to the intersection and catch a cab. Then I'll go to the suburbs and look for the forest entrance that I only saw once.

Interlude 10-1

――――And she is left alone. There is no reason for the boy to fight. The one who is no longer a Master walks into danger while she, the danger's cause, is resting. That fact depresses her even more.

"He has headed to the forest. ―――Do you regret it, Sakura?" The servant asks her master. The girl does not nod, but narrows her eyes and shakes her head once.

"…I can't regret it, Rider. There's no point now." "You are correct. That was certainly a meaningless question." "Yes. But it's not all painful. I know it's wrong to say this, but I'm happy. I'm happy that Senpai's doing something for me." But her face is filled with agony. The mouth that says she's happy is heavy as if bound by a feeling of guilt.

"But that's wrong. Grandfather will show no mercy. As long as Senpai keeps fighting, there's a chance that he'll die. And most of all――――" It's troubling for her if he stays in the war any longer. It will bring a bad fate down upon them both.

That's why she wants him to simply return to his normal life. She will not last long. That being the case, she wants him to live. …But… At the same time, she clings to hope. For as long as he fights, she can be with him. No, it delights her that the person she loves is fighting and getting hurt for her sake.

She doesn't want him to fight. But having him fight makes her happy. The two contradictory wishes compete for control within her.

"…What a lie. It's not competing at all." With a pained murmur, she acknowledges the darkness within her. Yes. She wants him to fight. She wants him to save her. She wants him to answer her to make up for all the times he did not. For that reason――――he can get hurt. And she thinks about something she shouldn't.

"Hah, kuh……!" She clutches her chest. As if responding to her dark passions, the worm within her stirs against her nerves. …It was only for an instant. She imagined him getting hurt for a mere instant, and the worm has begun to violate her once again.

Wriggle, wriggle. Wriggle, wriggle. Wriggle, wriggle, wriggle. The squirming in her body makes her ears ring. It melts into her blood, causing a chill to run through her body. The feeling stimulates her, and she thinks her body is lewd and evil. …The worm that melted into her blood becomes aphrodisiac, heating up her body. The waves threaten to wash her consciousness away. She always thinks with her heated head.

That her limbs are too dirtied to be called human limbs. Sexual desire easily fills her body, and she clings on the ground in a vulgar manner. Her panting does not stop, and her hips wriggle like mucus. It is no different from the thing entangling her nerves. The worm violates her the more she tries to deny it, her consciousness is melted away, and… ――――She feels like she is a worm herself. And in the end, an ominous feeling dominates her whole body.

"Sakura." "…It's fine. I'm still all right. More importantly, Rider. Please go with Senpai." "…I shall obey if that is an order. But Sakura. You do not have long to live either. To use me is to shorten your remaining life. Is that fine with you?"

"…Yes. I won't last long anyway. I'm fine now, but I lose track of what I'm doing if I let my guard down. …My memory becomes more vague by the day, and I can't feel anything in my limbs anymore. Even my sense of time is going, so that a day doesn't flow properly for me. …Like today. It feels like it's been a week since I saw Senpai off."

She says it as if it's nothing. …She has accepted death. She's fighting the ugliness of clinging to hope, and she has ordered her to protect him.

"―――Understood. I shall obey my master and guard Emiya Shirou." "Thank you. …I'm sorry, Rider. If I'm no good anymore, then go make a contract with someone else. I don't want Senpai… but maybe it's okay if it's with you." She forces a smile. The Servant in black nods and turns her back to her master.

"…An ill wind blows. I will be using my Noble Phantasm. Is that permissible?" "Yes. Please bring Senpai back if things turn out to be dangerous." "I know. But Sakura. I believe we should be on guard against that priest over the old man." Rider speaks without looking back.

"――――――――" That's a surprise for her. This Servant does not state her opinions. She silently does as she is told. She has never shown concern for her the way she does now.

"―――Yeah. I think so too." She murmurs as if singing. Her grief dispelled, she is now filled with languorous elegance. "―――But don't worry, Rider. He can't beat me." She smiles like a girl picking flowers.

End of Interlude

A few minutes' walk from the national highway. Even though I've never seen it in person, the forest's entrance looks familiar. It's white like morning mist, even during the day. The dim sunlight and fog steal the sense of time from this place.

"…Whoa. Am I really going to be fine?" I can't believe how reckless I'm being. I didn't get lost back then because I was watching it through Ilya, but this isn't something I can manage by memory alone.

"―――No, I can whine later. I'm desperate, so I just have to go tackle this." I put spirit in myself as I put the bag over my shoulder.

It's past noon. It takes about four hours to reach Ilya's castle from here, according to what I saw. All I can rely on now are my physical strength, memory, and recollection skills――――

I walk through the forest. The smell of sap is a bit suffocating. The unpaved path is tiring to walk on.

It's been two hours, and I think I'm following the route Ilya showed me. But it's worrying that there's no sign to confirm that I'm on track.

I can keep walking all day because of my training, but mental fatigue is chipping away at my energy. If memory serves, I still have two hours to go. I can easily imagine what'll happen if I don't end up at the castle in that time. My physical limit is far, but I'll make trivial mistakes with a disturbed mind.

Rehydration and monitoring your condition are your highest priorities during mountain climbing, and you have to worry about which foot you step with and the depth of the bare rock you're scaling.

Even though the forest isn't as dangerous as a mountain, this place has a different kind of danger. Losing your sense of direction, not knowing where you are… There's the danger of getting lost, and who knows what beasts you might encounter.

The beasts living in this vast forest are likely to have their territories. When people stray into those territories, they're usually attacked.

Walking aimlessly is like asking to be attacked, and even a straight animal trail needs to be avoided from time to time. Fortunately, snakes don't seem to exist in this forest. All I see are traces of wild dogs, and that's rare too.

I bet there aren't many living things here because of the magic of Einzbern on this forest. But there are a few wild dogs, and there may be far worse things.

"―――Oh, that way is bad. I'll have to watch out on my way home."

I go around the thicket that an animal may be lurking in and make my way according to my memory. Discretion is the better part of valor. It's a rule of thumb to simply avoid dangerous places rather than waiting until the danger confronts you and then running away.

"…But still… This forest seems different from the one Ilya showed me."

…The air around me feels different. An ominous chill runs down my back with every step. ―――Don't go any further. ―――Get out of this forest now. ―――Nobody will return alive from this forest today. I feel like the swaying trees are warning me.

"―――――Come to think of it, this smell is…" I thought it was sap, but that's not quite right. …The sweet smell is nothing like the forest. This is―――― ――――Probably…

"――――――Hold on." I take out a wooden sword from my bag. …I stop, concentrate, and strengthen it within a few minutes.

"―――――Something's coming." …I hear footsteps from the other side of the thicket. I hear sounds among the swaying branches.

"――――――――" …It's coming. It comes out and heads straight for me――――!

I raise my wooden sword. Tensing my arms, I grip the sword and stand ready.

"That's it, don't move――――!" "All right, don't move――――!" We both freeze.

"……" "……" …………Well. How should I handle this situation?

"…Hey. Can you lower that? This isn't a haunted house, you know?" …Tohsaka lowers her guard first.

"Oh, sorry." I follow her example.

"…Hmph. What a strange place to run into you. I guess I'd better ask, but you're not just scouting sites for a picnic, are you?" "Of course not. What about you? You're not the type to take walks in a forest. What are you planning?"

"How rude, I do too take walks in the forest. Well, my business today is different." She protests. The surprising part here is that she's not denying that she's planning something.

"――――Tohsaka. Are you planning to fight Ilya?" I get right to the point.

"…What if I am? You're not a Master anymore. So you don't have the right or the duty to meddle with our battles." "――――I don't. But I'll stop you if you're going to fight Ilya."

"Why? Are you planning to have Ilya join forces with Sakura?" "That's part of the reason. But you won't come out unwounded if you fight Ilya. One of you will end up hurt if you two fight. I don't like that. First of all, I…"

"You decided to fight to stop the battles, right? I see you haven't changed your mind." Her sharp tone gone, Tohsaka shrugs in resignation.

"……Oh." That's Tohsaka's real face that she had on before that thing happened to Sakura.

"W-What? I can't change it so easily because it's something I decided on."

"I figured as much. Geez, I've suspected this for a while now, but…" I don't know why. But Tohsaka gives an exaggerated sigh… "You're really stupid, aren't you, Emiya-kun?" …And gives a smile that surprises even me.

"Wha――――" "But this is good. You never learn your lesson, but that's what I expect from you. You should do your best as a clumsy person."

"W-What's with that triumphant expression!? You piss me off!"

"Now, now. So I guess you have business with Ilya too. You're really planning to talk with her?" I'm angry, but Tohsaka just stares at me with a smile.

"Hm――――" …Damn. I don't know why, but I can never deal with Tohsaka in these situations. I feel like I'll back myself further into a corner no matter what I say.

"…? Why are you quiet all of a sudden? It's not like you." "……Heh. Yeah, you're exactly right. I'm going to see Ilya, so don't bother me. I'll chase you away if you come following me."

"Huh? Oh, you know where Ilyasviel lives?" "Oh." Crap. Me and my big mouth.

"Good, can you lead me there? I know the general location, but I only have a really old map, and I can't really trust it. It's great if you know where it is." "――――Hey now. I told you not to follow me."

"Oh. Can you let me be when you're going to go talk to Ilyasviel? If I find her first, she'll be too busy to talk with you."

"…! A-Are you threatening me!? First of all, you're going to fight her even if we go together, right!?"

"I won't. It's best if we can cooperate with her. Our priority is to kill Zouken, right? I came here to warn her." "――――! Warn her about what?"

"Matou Zouken is planning something, so I'm going to warn her not to let her guard down. You remember what happened to Caster, right? It'll be to our disadvantage if the same thing happens to Berserker. But I was ready to fight her even though I only came to warn her. Considering us, we can't just talk. I thought it can't be helped if we ended up fighting after I warned her. I have to beat her eventually, so this is just a matter of time, right?"

"But you seem to have expectations. Then I don't need to take risks, and things can end peacefully depending on your efforts." "――――――――"

"Hey, don't make a difficult expression! I'll go back without doing anything if you can persuade Ilyasviel. But if you fail, we can beat her together or I'll help so that we can both escape. How about it? It's not a bad deal, right?"

"…Deal or not, you're going to follow me anyway, right?" "Of course not, that's a false accusation. We just happen to be heading in the same direction."

"……" She's a devil. But she'll listen to me, so long as I'm guiding her. Tohsaka will go fight Ilya if I leave her be, but she'll stay quiet if I take her with me.

"――――I'm not too sure about the way either, okay? Don't complain if we get lost." "You don't need to worry. You're heading exactly the way my map says. We won't get lost with your guide and my map."

"――――――――" I sigh loudly, making sure Tohsaka can hear it.

"All right, I give up. Let's go to the castle together. You won't fight Ilya, right?" "Right, I won't interfere while you're talking with her. She's troublesome if she's your enemy, but she's reliable if she's――――"

"An earthquake…!?" The trees shake. I hear explosions in the distance. …No. This isn't an earthquake. Something like a typhoon is raging nearby――――

"Tohsaka, this is…!" "――――Berserker. I guess we were a bit too late."

"Wha… Then Berserker's the one raging around!?" "Yes. We're here, so there's only one person Berserker would be fighting against. …What will you do? I'm going, but will you stay?"

There's no time to think. I…

[the-er-system]

Living up to our system name!! We’ve been to the ER three (3) times in the last week with no help or answers each time. At least today we got a doctor who listened and tried to get us admitted to hospital. But the hospital wouldn’t fucking admit us because “they didn’t feel it was necessary.” Even though I’m experiencing things like significant breathing issues, a spike in chronic fatigue, and now problems with my vision that are odd and upsetting. But wait there’s more! That I don’t want to get into because it’s almost 2:00am, I just got home, and I need to shower.

It has been four fucking years of this. Of going to doctors with health concerns that stop me from living my day-to-day life only for them to shrug and send me on my way. Because my case is odd and complicated and uncommon (possible rare idk). And they don’t want to deal with that. They want something easy to diagnose and treat that won’t take too much time and effort. So I’m just left on my own, struggling to get by and begging for any help from anyone. But even fucking trauma therapists have started being like “Your case is too complicated I can’t help you.”

I’m so thankful for my friends who have been supporting me through this. But also how the fuck am I supposed to live my life and keep attending college if all the professionals take one look at me and decide I’m not worth their time? When Disability Services is a fucking joke that sits on their hands? When I don’t even have a wheelchair that doesn’t actively do harm to me? I’m trying my best to just suck it up and figure out how to cope. But there’s only so much I can do and it feels like I’m far past my limit. But there’s also nothing else for me to do but keep punching a brick wall hoping somebody will decide to be gracious enough to lend me a key through the steel door. Instead of walking by and being like “look at how successful you’ve been so far! Figure it out so you don’t throw it away! Don’t use your disability as an excuse!”

I dunno man, I’m just tired. Not quite relapsing into the “I don’t want to live anymore” tired. Just “it’s been 19 years of me having to try and survive trauma after trauma on my own with rapidly declining health, while being expected to be The Best at everything anyways. Can I please catch a break?”

[paulidin]

#WearAMask Before sunrise this morning, between bouts of rain, I got bundled up to walk around outside next to the ocean. I ended up next to Gladstones near the Pacific Palisades / Malibu border for this selfie. The Pixel 7 Pro's nightsight and unblur combo are great for shots like this.

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I haven't been on a regular schedule nor doing my pre-sunrise mental health walks since before the Santa mantle descended on me for the end of the year. I feel very out-of-shape, somewhat agoraphobic, and just generally reluctant to leave the warmth of my bed. But that's one of our most dangerous failings, we human beings: intertia. It's so easy to keep doing whatever we're doing, even when it's not something we like, or it's something unhealthy, or even actively harmful to us. If we've made it a habit, it feels like the least amount of energy to keep doing it, which makes it seem comfortable.

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That's what a bad habit really is, rather than something sinful or shameful -- it's a thing so familiar for us to do, we don't decide to do something better for us even if it's more comfortable or healthier or productive or even more profitable to make the change. The comfort of momentum is terrible. So I made myself go outside. And i'll do it again tomorrow. And once that's my habit again, I'll save the world.

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If you need help doing something like protecting queer lives & rights or saving abortion rights, try using @resistbot to tell your representatives how you feel about one issue. And later maybe another. And so on. If you go out to vote or protest in person, please #WearAMask.

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I'm lucky enough to be comfortable but I'm still poor and could use help saving for a new car. If you like what i share online, you could gift me!

- Cash app $paulidin

- Venmo @Paul-Roth

- PayPal @paulroth

- Amazon wishlist https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1KB07NUAQ3Y8F?ref_=wl_share

[dreamkidddream]

Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.

Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!

The Undateables with Yorkie!MC

Diavolo

He is LOVING your energy

Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)

He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)

As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do

Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for

But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!

He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way

(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)

You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too

Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)

Barbatos

Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)

You’re still harmless in his eyes though

Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times

Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen

He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers

With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf

“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”

“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”

“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”

You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!

He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)

It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face

Simeon

You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?

Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke

And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be

“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”

“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”

He’s keeping them btw

He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)

“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”

MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary

He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back

He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now

Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!

He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!

Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always

Has definitely written a character based on you

Luke

Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm

You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!

Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice

You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)

We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him

And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it

You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off

You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt

It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!

You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!

He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!

Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!

You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed

Solomon

Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!

He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter

Congrats on becoming his new victim MC

Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either

He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?

He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)

Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao

But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him

You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!

He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…

But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?

He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes

If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-

[valtsv]

Yeah I know what you feel I see stories popping up every so often about people saying horrible things in twitch streamers chat and they do nothing to stop it and I’m like I’d have a nervous breakdown if there was so much racism in my chat and then at the same time I see people that Stan creators and I’m like shit even if the creator doesn’t turn out to be horrible it’s still like almost a cult but the creator didn’t even want to make one. No need to answer this ask just wanted you to know others have a similar opinion on the situation

yeah. the issue with addressing parasocial relationships

is that they're extremely complicated to discuss, because everyone involved in them past the point where boundaries get blurred and ignored is in some way a victim because they're not healthy for anyone. and anything you do as a content creator feeds into them. and no matter what you say or do some people will continue doing things you've said you're uncomfortable with because it doesn't match up with the version of you they've formed a relationship with in their heads. or to get a reaction out of you because the possibility of receiving your attention, no matter how realistic, is a major part of what fuels a parasocial relationship. (which is not me saying content creators shouldn't address things like racism and other forms of bigotry in their fanbases, but there's only so much they can do and even if they try to block or ban as many people as possible to discourage them there's always some people who'll slip past because there's just too much for one person or even a team of mods to keep up with 24/7).

and at the same time content creators do use these relationships to make money through fan meetups, selling merch, random interactions online, etc. which in a way can't be helped because that's how they make their careers but does arguably exploit people who've fallen off the parasocial deep end and need help and support getting out of that mindset. but also any creator with a platform cannot bear responsibility for or offer support to every single person who claims to be a fan of them and in fact could cause more harm than good by feeding into that desire for attention.

parasocial relationships can drive people to do increasingly desperate and unreasonable things in pursuit of that (entirely human, but often unreasonable and unhealthy in parasocial relationships) need to receive validation, which is unfortunately just the nature of online spaces to develop because we all post and interact with each other at least partly to receive the validation of other people liking our content and, by extension, especially in parasocial relationships, us.

i'm speaking from experience. i used to be addicted to receiving validation online (and i am a former addict, so i don't make that comparison without understanding the implications) because there is a high that comes with seeing the numbers of likes and shares and positive comments on your content go up and it is possible to get addicted to that rush. i did, and it took me the better part of a year after realizing how negatively it was affecting my life and therapy - no, i'm not kidding - to start to make progress and no longer be obsessed with pleasing strangers online who know very little about me and don't really care about me even if they think they do (and this is not in any way an attack on my followers, i'm sure many of you are good, kind, helpful people, but at the same time the concept of me that exists in your minds and you care about is a parasocial one.)

this is even harder if you're a content creator who has a career online. i don't make any money from posting on tumblr. so it doesn't matter if i produce less content or don't consistently interact with the people who follow me for that content. but if you do, it's not easy to step away from that and try to recover from and distance yourself from parasocial relationships and set boundaries when your whole career relies partly on them. even if it gets to a point where, like me, they're harming your wellbeing. it took me months of obsessively checking my social media and follower count and having panic attacks when i couldn't or my activity dropped, struggling to sleep and having anxiety attacks because i couldn't think of enough fun new content to share, struggling in classes and at work because my attention was elsewhere, and feeling despair to the point of having depressive episodes brought on by people saying hurtful things about me or criticizing me about things that weren't my fault and i couldn't control, before i even considered that i needed to do something about the parasocial hell i'd dug myself into. and i don't make a single cent. if i did, it would have been a lot harder. maybe even impossible.

this is really just a ramble with no conclusion but it just frustrates me and makes me really sad that parasocial relationships can cause so much lasting harm to people, both content creators and their fans, and there's not really any solution except seeking therapy one day and hopefully being able to heal from the damage. although i do think talking more openly about and spreading awareness of parasocial relationships would also help people find support and think more carefully about how they interact with people and consume content online (without ruining the fun!).

[tteokdoroki]

awake with you | s.todoroki

♡ pairing: shoto todoroki x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 1.7K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: ua student!au, angst, comfort, fluff.

♡ summary: during the night, bad things happen but your boyfriend is always there to keep them away. by your side always, shoto todorki makes it his mission to fight your demons and make sure you know that you’re loved.

♡ warning(s): please read ! character death, mentions of car accidents, nightmares, guilt, lack of sleep, but a lot of fluff and the best boyfriend in the whole world :(

♡ author’s note(s): guys! it’s shoto’s birthday, so here i am postiing this shoto request from anon a while back, i hope you all enoy and have celebrating the beautiful boy’s bday <3

♡ masterlist | requests

it was hard for you to sleep.

harder, when shoto wasn’t around.

sometimes it was your thoughts that kept you up; late at night— dark thoughts that swirled around in your head and slowly poisoned your brain with heavy black venom. it was hard to sleep when your mind was heavy with fear, but ever since dating shoto todoroki; those nights became easier and sleep wasn’t so hard to come by.

you weren’t so sure what it was about your boyfriend that made it easier for you to get some shut eye; it’s not like he really knew either. todoroki just didn’t like seeing you in pain, the way your face twisted with discomfort or the way sleepy tears would wet your cheeks under the moonlight— but you had somewhat of an idea, that his fresh peppermint smell and warm arms are what often helped you.

shoto would so lovingly sneak into your room, no matter the time, dusk or dawn— he would hold you tight under the sheets until you drifted off to dream land. even if it meant being teased by the others for stumbling out of your room in the morning, his pretty hair a wild mess creating the image that’d you’d both been up to no good, he’d face it all for you, over and over again.

but tonight, your loving, caring and doting boyfriend was nowhere to be seen— everyone’s second internships had begun and todoroki had chosen to work with his father along with izuku and katsuki, so it was no doubt that they wouldn’t be home until late. what with endeavour being the number one and all.

your friends knew about your struggles to sleep, of course, todoroki bluntly mentioning how you ‘like to sleep together’ to soothe your nightmares ( iida had lectured you about it after, saying it was inappropriate while deku and ochako turned as red as your boyfriend’s hair ) so offered to stay up with you— but you needed rest, today’s training sessions  having taken a toll on your body, and wave them off with a smile laced with tiredness.

you could call him, he wouldn’t mind and you know it— but he’s with his father and that takes enough out of him as it is.

you decide, instead, to trudge to the dual quirked boy’s bedroom, instantly calmed by his sweet peppermint scent embedded into every inch of his dorm. you swipe one of his clean sweaters straight from the closet before hitting the lights and snuggling into his bed.

tonight would be fine, todoroki would come home, wrap you in his arms and with the aid of his scent surrounding you— you would sleep safe and soundly.

is what you hoped as you drifted off to the land of dreams.

when you were younger, you watched your older brother, haru, get hit by a car.

the scene haunts you to this very day, crawling up on you while you rest at night— choking you out in your dreams. you see it now, feet glued to the ground as you’re forced to watch the younger version of you, mess with your older brother using your new found quirk. your parents had called it scenery, back then your powerful quirk had been their pride and joy, giving you the ability to create a mirage in a certain targets mind— make them see things that weren’t really there.

back then it was fun to play tricks on your sibling— you made haru see all of his worst nightmares, everything but the road.

everything but the oncoming car.

everything but his untimely death.

you want to scream at little you— tell her to stop and that it’s not funny anymore as she forces your brother back into the road— he’s giggling, he doesn’t know it yet and neither do you. but the words you want to say die down deep in your throat, suffocating you from the inside although they burn at your lungs to burst through.

why cant you speak? why cant you stop her?

adrenaline trickles into your blood stream as you will yourself to run out into the street and protect haru from the oncoming traffic just as he slips off of the sidewalk. your senses are blown out of the water, static noise filling your ears and intertwining with childish screams and the sound of a not so distant honking horn.

you claw harshly at your throat. speak. save him. for god’s sake; do something.

“you’ll kill him! stop! you’re going to kill him!”

the flickering of artificial, yellow light behind your closed eyes has you jolting awake, sweat forming at your brow and hands clenched tightly around your boyfriend’s plain bedsheets. your gaze darts across the room while your heart thumps loudly in your ribcage from the fear that struck you in your dream and finally, your stare settles on a shirtless, bewildered shoto todoroki. his face is a little scratched up no doubt from being on his father’s patrol and he looks exhausted but that doesn’t stop the concern he has for you taking over his expression. “yn—?”

“s-sho,” you hate how your voice caves so easily, the single syllable of your nickname for him falling wetly from chapped lips. todoroki is by your side in an instant, not caring that he’s only half dressed and half awake. he’ll deal with that later.

with tender hands shoto cups the back of your head, letting you sink into the warmth of his flesh. you reach out for your boyfriend and he’s there, taking your free hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze to help ground you. “love, what happened? why didn’t you call? you know i don’t mind—” his timbre voice fills your ears like warm honey, calming your rapid breathing but all you can do is shake your head.

“nightmare ‘n you were working,” you pant, cutting him off while the death grip on your lover’s hand begins increasing. you feel so far from the ground, the scene of haru’s death dancing across your mind. “i killed him, again—“

shoto watches your body twitch with fear and your usually glimmering eyes gloss over in away that makes him feel sick. you’re not here with him yet, still tangled up in the black string of your bad dreams. the world around the dual eyed boy begins to change and it seems you’ve activated your quirk by accident— showing him scenes of the day your brother died.

you screw your eyes shut as flashes of his body tangle with reality to the point where you don’t know what’s real and what’s not. you’re losing control of yourself so easily, fresh sets of tears stinging their way down your streaked cheeks. trapped. you feel trapped like a bird in a cage even while you’re awake and the sounds of cars and screaming burn at your ears once more.

make it stop, please.

“yn... come back to me love, i’m right here,” todoroki’s calm voice cuts through the suffocating song of death, dragging you back to reality while the effects of your quirk drift away. his fingers, although contrasting temperatures, now cup your cheeks to tilt your face towards him so that your eyes lock with his under the crescent moon. “you didn’t kill him. that wasn’t you. it wasn’t your fault.”

you blink away more tears like a helpless child, chest heaving but todoroki doesn’t give up. “but—“

“no.” your boyfriend says softly, yet sternly, leaning down to place an eskimo kiss to your nose. your eyes flutter shut at his simple gesture, although it raises saftey and warmth across your body— black radiates behind your closed eyelids, no longer plagued broken bones and blood. it’s easy to keep breathing from there, focusing on that as todoroki pulls you into his lap and the sheets fall away from your body.

“no,” you repeat back to him while shoto’s arms settle on your waist and his familiar scent of fresh peppermint fills your senses. “not my fault.”

it wasn’t your fault, that day the car had come speeding down a usually safe road in a residential area. the accident was a hit and run, but being a child made you feel every ounce of the blame. shaking the thought away you curl into your lover’s chest, listening for sounds of his heartbeat while he toys with a lose string on his sweater— the one you wear.

“that’s right, good girl...not your fault, here with me yet, love?”

when you glance up, todoroki is looking right back down at you— brows creased with worry but there’s love in his stare, overwhelming amounts that make you hum into his bare chest, grounded by the feeling of his skin against yours. “present and accounted for,” his chest rumbles with relieved laughter, soothing you even more. “thank you, sho. i’m sorry for making you do this so late at night.”

this time, shoto shakes his head— sending locks of red and white flying. “don’t thank me and don’t apologise,” his words are feather light in the dark while he manoeuvres you both onto his back to settle into bed. you’re about to mention that he’s still half in his suit, but your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care, already closing his eyes. “i’m yours, your boyfriend and i’m going to support you no matter what. i’ve got you, okay? you’re always here for me so i’ll do my best to do the same for you. what kind of man would i be if i wasn’t?”

“a very unmanly man,” you tease with a kitten like yawn, already feeling the confines of a more comfortable sleep, taking over.

todoroki rolls his eyes but pulls you closer to him anyways. “you’ve been spending too much time with kirishima.”

“at least i don’t spend everyday working with bakugou, now that’s true nightmare.” you counter, narrowly missing a pinch to the side from your boyfriend.

the pair of you sleep soundly that night, wrapped in each other’s arms. you feel safe, knowing that nothing could ever harm you, as long as you were with him. shoto todoroki would give anything for to you to have a goodnight’s rest. no matter what. even if it meant staying awake with you and being late to patrol with endeavour the next day.

not like he cared, he hated his dad anyway.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

“I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

[presidentbungus]

Miss Pauling miscellaneous adventures part two: The One With Engineer. check it out on ao3

If there’s anything good about her job, it’s that every paycheck she gets she has to spend a few seconds ogling and counting the zeroes. It’s not like she has any time or place to spend the money or anything, but it’s a nice sentiment to think about her bank account while she’s moving corpses and dissolving corpses and burying corpses and making new corpses to move and dissolve and bury. 

And, well, once in a while she buys herself something nice. The fancy speakerphone she paid to get installed in the dashboard of her truck did mean that she had to take her regular, non-motorized bike to work for a week, and while her legs were seconds from tearing themselves off of her body at all times for a month or two after (piles of bodies are not easy to cart around), it was definitely worth it.

Mostly.

She might just repeat this to herself every time she punches numbers into the little pad, like she’s doing now, on the road between spots. Just left a sort of stressful meeting with a few overbearing business execs, and now she’s heading for a big plot in the desert she already prepared to bury a few overbearing business execs in, and the RED base sits somewhere between those two spots and she decides she might as well treat herself. It occurs to her after she punches in the number to Engie’s phone that he’s definitely gonna ask questions about what she did after Spy sent her home yesterday, but he picks up before she can mash the hang-up button (and that never seems to work, anyway).

“Howdy,” he says—the sound quality is awful, and somehow it manages to crackle six times on one word, but she isn’t exactly not desperate. “This is Engie, Reliable Excavation Demolition. May I ask who I’m speaking to?”

“It’s me.” She has to yell for her voice to get through at all so she does. “Pauling. You don’t need to do the whole script, you know it’s gonna be me.”

“Oh, lotsa people call me.” He laughs. “That’s a lie. How’s it goin’, Miss P? Anything I can do ya for?”

The question hasn’t appeared yet. A tiny glimmer of hope that maybe he forgot. “Yeah, actually—sorry, I’m just…” She leaves out a really tired. “Would you mind making a thing of coffee for me? I’m gonna pass the base between spots and I could just—really use it.”

“Any special instructions?”

She clears her throat. “Lots of cream and sugar. Please. As much as you can fit in the mug.”

“One Miss Pauling special comin’ right up,” he says, laughing, and then his voice dips just a little bit and he says: “You got any more time to talk?”

There it is. “I know what you’re gonna bring up and I promise I got some sleep.”

“Some sleep isn’t the same as enough sleep, sweetheart. Spy told me ya seemed hesitant to go home—I knew I shoulda checked up on you some point.”

“If you did it probably wouldn’t have changed anything, Engie.” Last night she got home at about seven, ordered takeout—at least she ate (not that it was healthy but she can conveniently leave that part out)—and then she spent the next six or seven hours profiling suspects and arranging paperwork because she felt guilty about not doing anything. She passed out at some point, at the very least. That’s gotta count for something. “Look, I ate and I did a lot of work that wasn’t, like, physically strenuous—by my standards that’s rest.”

“Miss P, your standards are obnoxious and just damn harmful, and I hope the fact that I’m the person you’re hearing this from hammers something home.”

“I promise I’m fine.”

“No you ain’t. When you get here I’m gonna make you eat supper with the rest of us and then you’re gonna take a nap and it’s actually gonna be a nap. Okay? Actually, I’m not even gonna ask. You don’t have a choice.”

“Engie, there are corpses in my trunk that are actively decomposing.”

“I’m sure Medic’ll be happy to take care of them for ya. Save some burial time, huh?”

Pauling sighs. “I don’t want to deal with shambling abominations this soon in the month.”

“Y’know he’s been getting better about that. If I ask him not to he won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

Pauling nods, then realizes he’s over the phone so she says “Yes.”

“‘Are you in a relationship with coworkers and can we please kill you over it’ forms don’t count.”

“I’m sorry, I’m actually contractually obligated to be still mad at you about it.”

“Sure,” Engie mutters. “Look, how close are you?”

“Pulling up now, but I might just drive past.”

“I guess I’ll just throw away this mug of coffee if no one’s gonna drink it…”

“I get your point. Walking in the building in like five seconds.”

“Heh, sure you are. Seeya in a minute.” In front of her, the garage door rolls up. Engie swivels and grins at her through the windshield, waving.

“Bye.” She hangs up, steps out of the car, and beams as she’s handed a mug topped with a not insignificant amount of whipped cream. Dell swings open the little minifridge he keeps under the workbench and puts the can back in its place. Is she really here that often?”

“Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve talked to you,” he says, mussing up her hair. “What? Days? Years? I’ve lost count.”

“Yes, it’s just absolutely insane how I see you in your garage two steps outside of my car.”

They share a laugh, and then Engie gestures at a little cot set up in the back of the room. “Okay. Go lay down. I’ll call you when supper’s ready.”

“But I just got…” She takes a sip from the mug.

It’s hot chocolate. Dammit.

“Sorry I tricked you,” Engie says, shrugging. “Now go. Get some shuteye. I ain’t gonna take no for an answer.”

“Okay, I’m—“

“Now.”

“God. I was agreeing with you.” She goes and sits down on the bed and honestly it’s the most comfortable place she’s ever been, so she hesitantly leans back and sets her mug on the side table and waves at him. “Okay, I am going to sleep. Get out of my face. Goodbye.”

“Keep an ear peeled,” Engie says, and he goes out into the hallway and yells MEDIC, and Medic’s down in about two seconds, waving at Pauling and quickly moving to the trunk to start piling body bags onto his shoulders.

“No zombies,” she says, tugging her bun and about fifty bobby pins out of her hair as she tries to lay her head back.

“Yes. I remember what happened last time, Pauling. I can learn from my mistakes.”

“Sure you can.“

“Goodbye. Have a good nap.” He says this in a way that somehow definitely implies I am going to lecture you about your health later. She finds that somehow she does not entirely mind about it.

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Red Room

Summary: Meeting Yelena in the red room is the best and worse thing that’s ever happened to you. Warning: romantic Yelena x Fem!reader pairing and depictions of violence.

Those first weeks in the red room pass in a blur. You have one room. Just you. Meals are delivered like clockwork; no one speaks to you. Your only company being the television set that plays the same clips; morning, noon and night.

Until one day the lights flip on brightly above you and a woman enters. You squint up at her, “hello?”

“Hello.” She replies, “are you ready to get out of here?”

“Where will I go?” You wonder.

“Wherever I tell you.”

That is your first encounter with Madame B. When you were younger you thought her something of a savior. You know better now. Still when she calls for you, there’s no choice but to go.

You make your way down the long hall, florescent lights humming above you. Finally reaching the room you’ve been assigned; you grasp the door knob. Feeling the weight of the cool metal against your palm, with a steadying breath you turn it.

Inside is only Madame B and a girl. One you’ve only seen in passing, one of Dreykov’s favorites.

“Y/N, meet Yelena. She will be your partner from now on.” Madame B leads the introduction.

“Did something happened to Oksana?” Your brows pull together, voice small. Afraid to cross an unspoken boundary. She’s always been your partner.

“Oksana is no longer your concern.” The woman bites out. “Shake hands and prepare for your lesson.”

You nod, biting your tongue.

Lesson…

Sparring.

Dancing.

Captive simulations.

What will it be this time?

“Oksana is ok.” Yelena tells you, once the trainer is out of earshot.

“Good,” you whisper, holding your hand out to shake without another word.

“Is that why they kept you locked up so long? You don’t play well with others?” The blonde takes your hand, eyes narrowed into slits.

“I don’t play at all.” You inform her. Pleasing these people is your ticket out of here, and you will get out.

“Everybody plays, whether you want to or not.” Yelena tells you, letting your fingers slip from hers. “Just don’t get in my way.”

——————————————————————-

You don’t get in each other’s way. Somehow having Yelena as a combat partner is a lot less annoying than you anticipated.

Oksana is a better friend, but you aren’t here to make friends. You’re here to kill. Topple regimes from the inside out, Yelena helps you do that.

Your training with Yelena is different. Chipping away parts of you until you fit together seamlessly. From trust falls to synchronized attack plans, you name it you do it. Sometimes until you bleed.

One of your trainers, Ivan, has taken a liking to blind folded direction. Outside of captive simulations it is your least favorite team building activity.

You remind yourself to focus and breathe. In some ways guiding is worse than being guided. “Veer slightly to your right.”

Yelena lifts one bare foot, holding it airborne, allowing you to assess the placement of her next step. “Here?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, as she clears the bit of shattered glass. “That’s perfect.”

———————————————————————

Your first real assignment comes on Monday, June second.

“Come in, Miss American Pie. I have eyes on the target.” Yelena informs you through the ear piece.

“That’s still not my name, over. Stay high, I’m going down.” You reply, deploying your rope and riding it to the ground.

“Five ticks northwest and the package is yours.”

“Copy.” You follow her instruction, ducking away as a bullet shatters the window beside you. “Easy.” You chastise, in a hushed whisper.

“Sorry,” she apologizes half heartedly. The kill was necessary and she had a clean shot.

You spot your target, ready to turn onto the main street from the alleyway. You wrestle him to the ground, he puts up a good fight. Not good enough.

You wipe the blood from your hands before removing the usb drive from his breast coat pocket. “Just admit it,” you taunt, turning to the building Yelena is scoping from, “you’re proud of me.”

“Y/N!” Her tone is not playful at all.

What’s wrong? Before you get a chance to ask the man you’d assumed dead has his knife buried in your thigh.

You crumple to the ground as he prepares to strike again. In the time it takes to unholster your weapon a silent bullet reaches his temple from the sky.

You squint up at Yelena, watching her ride her teether down to the ground beside you. “Thanks.” You pant, inspecting the damage.

“That was sloppy,” she frowns, searching her pack for the midkit, then tearing open a package of gauze. “You always check the body, confirm the kill.”

“I know, I was stupid.” You gasp, feeling Yelena apply an obscene amount of pressure to your wound.

“We need to move to the extraction point, they can deal with you in medical.” Yelena rises, tossing your arm over her shoulder for support.

“It won’t happen again.” You promise, leaning heavily against her side.

“You’re right, it won’t. I have no idea what happens to me if you die.” She grumbles, somewhat bitterly.

———————————————————————

Interactions with Yelena are sparse after that. She doesn’t trust you. Only showing up for your lessons and leaving the moment they’re finished. You understand why she’s angry, you would be too.

According to your weekly rotation, today should be live target practice, however you are directed to a different room.

Once inside your eyes find the chair. You hate that chair. You hate this room. Nothing good ever happens here.

Slowly you move toward Yelena at the far wall.

“A little birdie told me that you’ve been holding back in combat lessons.” Ivan says, tapping a finger to his chin. “Why is that?”

You bite anxiously at the inside of your cheek.

“I said why is that?!”

You notice Yelena flinch from the corner of your eye. “It’s my fault,” you hold up a hand. “I took a hit on our last mission and my partner was being mindful of my injuries.”

“Oh I see.” He smirks, condescendingly. “You don’t want to hurt each other.”

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.” Yelena points out. The red room drilled that into you.

“That is true.” His eyes dart between you. “But we can’t have you afraid of sparring together. Now can we?”

Your jaw ticks, awaiting the consequence.

“When’s the last time you girls ran a captive simulation?”

“Two weeks ago.” Yelena presents her left index finger to him for inspection. The nail just beginning to grow back.

Ivan hums, “When’s the last time you ran a captive simulation on each other?”

Your heart drops, all the blood running out of your face. Not for months.

“Hmm,” he wets his lips. “Who gets to play the captor first?”

Neither one of you volunteer.

“Belova,” he purrs. “Come choose your tools while Y/L/N straps herself into the chair.”

You don’t hesitate, it’ll be worse if you do. Tuning out his incessant chatter you find your seat. The metal chair sends a chill up your spine. Bending at the waist, you strap each ankle into a leather restraint, then your non dominant hand. Free hand waiting, curled around the arm rest.

Yelena kneels before you, her selections resting at your feet as she closes the final strap around your wrist. Your breath quickens.

“Fifteen minutes on the clock then you’ll switch.” Your spectator announces. “Make them count or we’ll start over.”

On autopilot Yelena reaches for the scalpel.

You don’t mean to scream…but eventually you do. You always do.

———————————————————————

Yelena knows your weaknesses and regularly exploits them to leave you face up on the floor during hand to hand combat sessions.

You used to resent her for it, but it made you strong. Stronger than you’ve ever been or hoped to be. The day you finally best her the room is filled with hushed whispers. Now you are ready.

You learn to move in harmony. The trainers ease up a bit and the other girls line up to watch you like an exhibit. You are two halves of a more perfect whole.

“Madame B, can I ask you something?” You say, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.” The older woman replies. “What is it?”

“Why was my training so different with Oksana?”

She leans in. “You were not brought here to be a partner to Oksana. She was standing in until we could be sure you were ready for a partner. Nothing more.”

“Was I brought here to be Yelena’s partner?” The question burns at the back of your throat.

“I understand the desire to seek meaning in these things. You hope to find your place in the world.”

You nod.

“But you have no place in the world,” the words cut like a knife. “What you do have is an opportunity to prove that you are not a waste of space, time, or resources. Come, let’s sit for debriefing.”

You wait in silence for Yelena to arrive, finally she does. Taking the seat beside you in the meeting room.

“In two days you will undergo the graduation ceremony, after which you are granted up to three days recovery time before you will be deployed to Moscow.” Madame B reviews the information, handing you each a folder of details.

“Enclosed you will find your identification cards and aliases. I suggest you take this time to familiarize yourselves. Tomorrow we will begin shooting photographs for the past two years of your lives. Report with several changes of clothing. Congratulations on this assignmet. It is a great honor.” Madame B dismisses you.

You open the file. ‘Katherine and Irena Reiner.’

“We’re sisters?” Yelena guesses.

Worse. “We’re married.”

“Even better.” She says under her breath, rising from the chair.

———————————————————————

Life in Moscow is different. Good. The neighbors are easy enough to convince. You play your parts to perfection.

The company you work for being the main focus. They have access to some sort of programming that Dreykov is desperate to get his hands on. You know better than to ask why.

Most mornings you get ready together, discussing the events of the previous day to prepare for the next.

“How come you only speak English?” Yelena wonders, turning off the steady spray of water from her shower and reaching out to grab a towel.

“I have a theory,” you reply, spitting excess toothpaste into the sink. “I think keeping me dependent on translation had more pros than cons.”

“They taught me.” She says, stepping onto the bath mat. “But I guess that’s different.”

You were brought in much older a majority of the other girls.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, seeing each other as if for the first time.

“I could teach you.” She offers, breaking the connection as she turns away.

“Yeah?” You pass the brush through your hair.

Yelena shrugs, “I have nothing better to do.”

“Just don’t teach me the wrong words to make me look stupid.” You arch a brow.

“It would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

Hours turn into days. Days into weeks and suddenly you stand on a blurred line. How much is she pretending? How much are you?

The two of you rest on opposite ends of the couch. Enjoying another round of prime time television.

“Yesterday I was talking to that girl in accounting.” Yelena pulls your attention from the picture.

“The blonde one?” You ask, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

She attempts to catch it in her mouth. Having had more than a few drinks her coordination is lacking.

You smirk, when it falls into her lap.

“No Maggie.” She corrects you, finding the wayward piece and biting into it.

“Mmm.” You hum.

“Mmm? What do you mean, ‘mmm?’” Yelena’s brows pull together.

“Nothing,” you insist. “I was just acknowledging what you said.”

“You didn’t sound very happy about it. Did she do something to you?” Yelena demands, straightening her posture.

“No, she didn’t do anything. Anyway tell me what happened.”

“She’s worked there for a long time. I think she knows more than she says she does.”

“So are you gonna talk to her again? See if she’ll open up?” Yelena has that effect on people.

“I am married.” She rolls her eyes, flipping her left ring finger in place of the middle.

“Shut up.” You chuckle.

“I’m crazy about you, know you. Ever since we met in high school. You didn’t like me at first but you came around.” Yelena elaborates.

“I don’t remember seeing all that in our cover story.” You cock your head to the side.

“That was a shit story, I’m rewriting it.” She waves a hand.

“Tell me more.” Tell me everything.

———————————————————————

“Did you get milk?” You shout, peeking into the nearest paper bag.

“Was it on the list?” Yelena hollers back, from the front door, kicking it shut. Her arms full of groceries.

“I don’t remember,” you say, unpacking the head of lettuce and eggs.

“You made the list.” She scoffs, setting the rest of the haul on the floor.

A knock pulls your attention away from the food.

“Who is it?” You wonder.

“It’s me, George. From next door.” Your neighbor answers.

Yelena rolls her eyes, waving you out of the kitchen. It’s your turn to make small talk.

You step carefully around the produce to the main entrance. “Hey George.” You smile, swinging open the door, “what’s up?”

“Katherine!” He greets you. “Could I borrow Irena for a minute?”

“Is that lawnmower giving you trouble again?” You guess, leaning against the door frame.

“It’s running great actually. There’s something else I’m curious about though.”

“I can send her over after dinner.” You attempt to dismiss him.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” George moves his foot to prevent the door from closing, producing a pistol from his waistband.

“George!” Yelena waves, clearly oblivious.

“Irena,” he looks down at the gun, pointed at your chest, “we have much to discuss.”

“Clearly.” Yelena agrees, coming to join you on the threshold. “Are you going to tell me why you have my wife at gunpoint?”

“We should take this inside.”

“I’m good here.”

He presses the barrel against your skin through the fabric of your shirt. “You sure about that?”

“On second thought, I could go for a drink. Do you like scotch?” Yelena takes a step back, leaving room for him to enter the house.

“Who sent you?” George demands, guiding you into the kitchen.

“We also have brandy.” She says, expression unreadable.

“Who are you working for?” He asks a second time, adjusting his grip on the gun. “First one goes in her leg.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Yelena drawls. “But I’m going to warn you, if you hurt her, you die.”

“You have three seconds to give me a better answer,” the nuzzle of the gun sits flush against you upper thigh. “One, two-“

Yelena lunges, the gun firing into the floor when he’s knocked off balance.

George tosses her off as if she weighs nothing. You rush him, knocking the fire arm to the other side of the room. Your arms locked around his neck, flush to his back. He rams you back first into the china cabinet.

You fall away with a grunt.

“Now,” the man rights himself. Wiping away the blood from his split bottom lip with the back of his hand. “We’re going to have fun.”

Taking a fist full of your hair he begins pulling you toward the center of the room. You grab for a large shard of glass, slicing it over the back of this knee. He releases you, doubling over.

“I warned you.” Yelena snarls, stabbing her knife into his belly, making a straight line up to his sternum. “You thought you could use her to break me? They used to make me torture her! They used to make me-“ she breaks off, withdrawing her knife. Only to ram it in again and again.

George, if that was his real name, is long dead. A crimson puddle blooming on the floor. It doesn’t stop Yelena, hot, angry tears rolling past her cheeks.

“Yelena.” You say softly.

“They used to make me do it.” She repeats, the weight of the words crushing down on her.

Your arms envelope her from behind.

“No.” She sobs when she feels you there, holding exactly where it hurts.

“It’s ok.” You whisper against her ear.

The blood stained blade clatters to the ground. Her breathing ragged as both her hands find yours, squeezing tightly. Don’t let go.

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not.” She cries, frantically shaking her head.

“I did it too.” As if she needs reminding. “They made me do it too.”

She allows you to stay curled around her, desperately trying to absorb some of that pain.

———————————————————————

Yelena’s drug of choice is alcohol, the spirits burn their way into her blood stream. Erasing all that she’s done.

“You want a glass?” She offers, setting the bottle of clear liquor down on the coffee table.

“No thanks.” You shake your head, hair still damp from the shower.

“Don’t be a hero,” she rolls her eyes as she takes a seat. The water had washed away any trace of George.

“Fine,” you take a long swig from the bottle in question.

“You’ll thank me later.” She tosses back a shot, sliding the strap of your pajama top down to assess the damage to your left shoulder. “It’s deep, going to need stitches. This is why we don’t go through china cabinets.” Yelena chastises, moving for the first aid kit.

“Yeah, not my finest moment.” You peek at her. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” she hums, returning to her spot. Flipping open the white box and removing what she needs to stitch you up.

First she hits you with the antiseptic “сука!” Bitch.

“See,” you can hear the smile in her voice, “you are learning.”

You let out a pained laugh, “I guess I am. We need to call someone to clean this up.”

“Here,” she hands you her phone, blowing gently over you wound. “You take care of that, I take care of you.”

Your heart clenches at her words. But Yelena is your partner. That is all.

“Belova, do you have a status update?” A familiar voice answers after the first ring.

“Yeah, we need a cleanup.” You say matter of factly.

“Agent Y/L/N.” He greets you. “How many?”

“One.”

“For now,” The man remarks.

“You didn’t tell us we weren’t alone in this pursuit.” You purse your lips.

“There’s a reason we sent the best. I’ll put in for a clean up crew in the morning.”

“Let them know the body is in the bathtub.”

The goes dead.

The conversation distracts you well enough from the dull ache of the needle poking and pulling at your shoulder.

Carefully Yelena bandages the abused skin. Her finger tips running along the back of your arm.

“Thank you.” You whisper, relaxing into her touch.

Her lips ghost over your skin. “You’re welcome.”

Oh.

Slowly you turn, as if not to startle her. Yelena’s eyes find yours.

You move closer, tracing the line of her jaw. “Thank you,” you repeat.

She nods, still unsure.

“Of all the people I could’ve been stuck here with…I’m glad it was you.”

“You don’t have to say that.” She pulls your hand away gently.

“You’re right. I don’t have to say anything.“ You murmur, “But I want to… and it would be counter productive to harm my partner.”

“We can’t.” She knows it. You know it. “It will get in the way. They’ll kill us.”

“No.” You chuckle bitterly. “They’ll make us kill each other.”

“I wouldn’t do it,” Yelena insists.

“You won’t have a choice.” You point out. “Didn’t you hear about that stuff they started pumping into people?”

“Mind control.” Yelena replies in Russian.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“Maybe we get out.”

“Maybe,” you smile sadly, “maybe we find each other.” In another life.

———————————————————————

Three days later Yelena comes home late. During your day off you were tasked with the more mundane tasks of running a household, but you suppose there are worse things. She finds you in the laundry room, drink already in hand. Her mouth set in a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You drop the piece of clothing back into the basket.

“I have it.” Yelena confesses.

You press your lips together, you knew this was coming. That information is the only reason you are here. “Did you contact them?”

“Not yet.”

“Are you going to?”

“You say that like I have a choice.” She stares down at her drink.

“I just meant-“

“I know what you meant.” Yelena knows you, better than anyone. The red room saw to that. “Do you want to stay one more night?”

“Do you?” You wonder.

“When I was a little girl…I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.”

“In the morning,” you offer. Any longer and the risk will be too great. “We’ll go in the morning.”

She nods, taking in the room around her. “I wanted it to be real.”

“It was.” You choke down the lump in your throat.

———————————————————————

Your return to the red room is swift. No pat on the back or celebration to be had. Just two pawns, returning to their places on the board.

You’re separated from Yelena. Because your loyalties are to each other and that poses a threat. But what did they expect? They made you this way.

You are alone. Perhaps the most alone you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’d just forgotten that you could feel things. You remember now and wish you didn’t.

Like it or not she changed you. Knowing her had changed you, for better or for worse. After Yelena you were never the same.

Word of Oksana’s escape only fuels the need to chemically alter the minds of all agents. Beginning in order of importance.

Finding Yelena seated on the bench outside the physician’s office steals the breath from your lungs. To see her now is blatantly cruel and calculated.

Still you sit in the empty space beside her.

“Do you know where your orders are?” She asks.

“Yeah,” you nod, “Budapest. You?”

“Back to Moscow.” Yelena informs you.

You swallow hard, your pinkies skating past each other.

“Agent Y/L/N,” the doctor opens his door. You watch as another widow exits, she doesn’t look any different. Maybe the mind control drugs aren’t affective.

You steal one last glance at Yelena. Her eyes are desperate, ‘don’t go.’ Both of you knowing you can’t stay.

“Enjoy Moscow.” You whisper, moving reluctantly to your feet.

She tears her gaze away, unable to watch you leave. “I hear Budapest is beautiful.”

You hope so.

Wanna know what happens next? Check out chapter one of Miss American Pie! 💜

Yelena Belova Taglist: @captainwonderwidow