#please do research on how to write abuse or something damn

[nonbinarypirat]

I’m catching up on Bungou Stray Dogs and I got to chapter 39 and wow… what a bad chapter. Or I should say, I VERY purely written, mishandled chapter. So I wanted to talk about why I hate this so much (even though so many people have probably talked about this here and other platforms.) Get ready for a rare known Iruma breakdown. But also I’m so mad about this chapter so this is going to be more of an unhinged rant then a well written post. Warning: child violence, abuse, abusive cycles, and sympathizing an abuser

This chapter is somehow a thousand times worse than what the anime did? I wonder if the people in charge of the anime also didn’t like this part and decided to cut it short and get through it as soon as possible and move on. Though it could also just because of how fucked up it is. No matter the reason, I went into this chapter hoping that maybe there was some context lost from the anime to manga but nope! In fact the manga goes further with trying to make you sympathize with a literal child torturer? It honestly makes me appreciate the episode just a tiny bit more for not including his oh so tragic backstory 🙄. Look, no matter what you have gone through, you don’t get the right to abuse a child. Plain and simple. Just because you were abused doesn’t give you the right to do it to someone. I get that the abuse cycle is not easy to break but once you fall down the same path you are ALSO a fucked up person! And you deserve to suffer for your actions. I wished he got a worse death than a car accident tbh 🤷.

Anyway, I hate how every character in this chapter acted like Atsushi was being irrational about not wanting to know why the headmaster was around? That’s his torturer, the man that literally made his life hell? If he doesn’t want to know, don’t force him. Like, could it give him closure, I guess. But he should be the one seeking that out. Quite frankly, once it was found out the headmaster was involved Atsushi should have been pulled from the case. Give him some distance to process everything rather having to learn about his abuser’s life story or whatever. Like I said, if he wanted to learn that info he should but only if he wanted. Idk why it treated him not wanting to know as acting irrational. I feel like every character treated him like this, from Tanizaki to Akutagawa to Dazai. Instead of comforting him in this difficult time they just… didn’t do anything? Obviously Akutagawa wouldn’t but why didn’t the other two do anything to make him feel better? Only Dazai did really and it was shitty. Full stop bad.

Which leads me into the crutch of it, I hate how they made the headmaster out to be a father figure or mentor. He’s not?? What the fuck are you on about. Like, I could see it if there was fake comfort, subtle or advert manipulation by being nice sometimes. Then it would have been a situation of, he’s the only father figure I ever had but he hurt me in the worst ways. And that’s where the ending could be. Not to say it would still be a well written depiction of abuse, it still tries to get you to empathize with the man, however, I could get where all the complication in Atsushi would lie. But this man was literally the worst human being to walk the face of the Earth the entire time we see him in the manga. So it makes ZERO SENSE. I guess that’s the angle they were going for, he’s the only adult man I know but it does NOT work at all. How is he a “mentor.” Just because he said to hate me not yourself? Fuck that shit, Atsushi does not need to feel bad for that man just because he was trying to make him strong or whatever bs excuse he has. Oh wow, he got him flowers. How ‘bout you pay for his therapy bills?!

If they really wanted to have some nuance, instead I feel like the conflict should have centered around Atsushi still not feeling safe or like he isn’t really dead. Like he can’t allow himself to relax despite the fact that he knows the facts. Especially since the headmaster was a big threat throughout his life, having him suddenly die would be a large shock to the system and go into denial mode. Thus, Dazai or someone else could help him move on and he could finally breath a sigh of relief. Or maybe he’s scared that other workers of the orphanage will try to find him. Maybe he tries to go back to normal, doesn’t give himself time to process, and it all comes crashing down and he has to grapple with the fact that he will never know WHY the headmaster treated him like this. Honestly, not having it answered would have been better because often people don’t get an answer why abusers act the way they do. This idea could add another reason why Atsushi is conflicted between happy and deeply upset because the headmaster is gone but now he’ll never understand why he was treated so horribly. And grappling with the idea that maybe he will never know or understand. Which is tragic but would be a better written and understandable conclusion.

BSD just really dropped the ball with that chapter. It had a great opportunity to bring a nuanced perspective onto why Atsushi may not be elated with his death and get further perspective on him as a character. But instead it focused too much effort on making a child abuser sympathetic because he also faced abuse in an orphanage and some people died and so he tried to make Atsushi strong or whatever. Atsushi deserved a better end in than chapter that Dazai calling that gross piece of shit his father.

Edit: I wanted to add that as much as I hate this chapter I liked the parts where we got to see how bad Atsushi’s life really was at the orphanage. I mean, it hurt for sure but getting to see this put into perspective fully why Atsushi has a hard time pushing through his trauma and past. Like, PTSD is no joke and that was reason enough, but seeing how far it got really showed that. Which makes me mad when people imply he should have gotten over it already or similar statements. Like, dude if that was me I wouldn’t have made it to 18. It’s actually impressive his resolve to live despite everything. Kind of wished we saw that in the anime as dark as it was but once again, I think it was not included specifically because of how poorly it handled this topic. Not gonna lie, it would piss me off enough to not finish the show (not that it’s too much of an improvement but it at least is like, bad writing but a pass).

[finniestoncrane]

As someone who likes degrading you have been a saving grace. My friends joke that I just wanna be abused in bed because of how mean I want them to be and I find it hilarious due to personal stuff. But honestly, whenever I see content with degrading in it - it's either someone like "you're a slut, bad whore" or just straight up non-con and I'm 1 step away from Calling the fictional police on a fanfic character. Which no offense or shame to anyone who enjoys that stuff - it's not for me but it's more so the fact I can never find a middle ground. The "nicer" stuff is too tame but the untamed stuff is just a lot of is kinks I don't enjoy.

Ik, make the content you wanna see in life but damn, it's hard. But your writing and I've seen a few others on here who are kinda like buried treasure. I am like "FINALLY!!!" because even if they have kinks or tropes I'm iffy about the majority of the think is fucking fantastic and makes everything worth it. It's just so rare to find people who still approach degrading with the same...ig finesse as they do with other kinks. Because I like to think a lot of fanfics writers probably know about all the rules of kink & BDSM and have a mature view set on sex but I still find degrading kinks just don't have that kind of polish yet.

It's either light brat taming and spanking with some nasty words or "oh you like degrading? Let me just ruin your mental state and go bonkers" and I'm just here like hhh. Sorry this is coming off so ranty - but yes, you do a great way to showing that middle ground that I've been desperately searching for and it's so perfect. Just- it's truely a treasure in my cove. - 🫖 (I'm so sorry if that was just so ranty or felt like I was judging others or trying to put them down, I'm grateful for all the writers out there)

ANON i am so sorry it took me so long to get to this, i just didn't have the capacity to respond coherently because this is such a kind and sweet thing to say and it means so much to me!!

i feel like maybe this is down to the fact that i'm incredibly kinky in theory but my body and my sensory issues prevent a lot of what i think is hot on paper coming into play. so i like to learn and read and explore and research and study, and i feel very grateful that there's other fic writers, and kink knowledgeable people who share their information for people like me, which means i've read a lot of different takes on a lot of different kinks lol

i'm pretty vigorous with tagging too, and i see some people not be quite as stringent with it, which is fine because there are no laws, but if something is going to veer into noncon or dubcon even under the guise of another kink or adjacent to another kink, then it supercedes it and it gets added to the list!! and i don't think that was ranty at all, i love hearing what people like and how they prefer things to be!! and there's never judgement in expressing your opinion! i like the whole gamut, i'll take playful degradation, i'll take middling degradation and i'll take noncon/dubcon/cnc but not everything is for everyone!!

ANYWAY i won't ramble, but yeah if you ever want something super specific in a request or a "if i can please have this but absolutely NONE OF THIS OTHER THING THANKS" then i am completely ok with that!! u-u 💚💚💚

[nerd-at-sea5]

alright this is pt 2 to 'i spent my teens in rage, spiralin' in silence' AKA the long ass yellowjackets fic i'm writing AKA the sam fender fic

pt 1 is here, pt 3 is here, ao3 link here

and uh yeah. lets go pt 2

also, during any wilderness scene this takes place in-between s1e7 and s1e10, laura lee is alive, taivan came out slightly earlier (during/around the wolf attack)

it feels weird, she thinks, to be this focused on a girl when one of the greatest albums in nat's collection is playing-and for once, for once-no one on the team is complaining.

but natalie's sitting in one of taissa's chairs, nirvana's 'bleach' halfway over from her record player-and nat can barley focus on the lyrics.

they don't need to, they know it by heart, but there's something about the way lottie's lips move to the lyrics of 'paper cuts' that make nat's stomach feel fuzzy.

van flops down next to-practically on top of her, and after one glance at their pink cheeks, nat twists around to see taissa walking out of the hallway that leads to the bathroom. she smirks at van, raising an eyebrow, how'd that go? and gets a smile and a thumbs up in response, pretty damn good.

'and they cock and-' "WOAH."

natalie's jolted out of her wordless conversation with van, as well as their increasingly more concerning lottie thoughts (now that's she's taken the time to unpack with van and realized what they actually mean) by laura lee's shocked yell, quickly scrambling to stop the record.

"laura lee, the fuck?"

"that's not-i don't get-why would that be in a song?" her face is getting redder by the second, and nat feels a small twinge of remorse, "kurt cobain-"

"it's actually an abuse metaphor," lottie interjects, and natalie's jaw almost hits the floor. the taller girl’s words are soft, her hand resting on laura lee’s knee to calm them, and nat feels a pang of jealousy. “the lyrics before 'the lady whom i feel maternal love for / cannot look me in the eyes / but i see hers and they are blue' is about how the mom who's abusing her kid can't look him in the face, but the kid can-"

"and the kid sees her true self." natalie interjects, and lottie gives her a soft smile that sends a jolt down their throat, her brown eyes flickering in the light of the lighter van is playing with-who snorts and lets nat continue. "and that true self is a monster."

she twists their hands in her lap, laura lee's eyes flicking around while she processes it, maybe they shouldn't have jumped in to explain those lyrics. van notices, and a hand closes around natalie's as tai turns to lottie, "how do you know that?"

the other girl shrugs, "i knew nat liked them, i figured it'd be a fun thing to check out and research."

the fuzzy feeling returns, racing to nat's heart as she spots a little blush on lottie's cheeks.

"i...thanks, lot."

van audibly groans, "alright, um...nat can you grab me some water, dude?”

"why the fu-oh. yeah, anyone else want some?"

laura lee holds out her cup, “me please.” while lottie raises a hand, "i'll go with you?"

natalie nods as van shoves her out of the chair, flashing a thankful look at the redhead, whos already moved on to show laura lee how to make a paper airplane out of taissa's homework.

the two end up in tai's kitchen, and when nat remembers that van loves chewing on ice in their water, lottie offers to hold open the freezer door while nat grabs some.

they do so, thankful for the burst of cold air that can be used to excuse the pink tinge on her cheeks.

it's only when natalie straightens, turning around and placing the glass on the counter next to them-she realizes that with lottie's arm stretched to prop open the door, when they turn, natlie is not only standing semi-inside the freezer-she's also chest-to-chest with lottie, who clearly wasn't expecting being this close either, and who is looking down at nat with those goddamn brown eyes.

"i-sorry, i can move-" lottie reaches to pull her arm back, and without thinking, natalie's hand lands on top of her wrist, holding it in place on the door, they can feel lottie's pulse racing-mimicking the quick thudding in nat's chest.

"....don't."

they've somehow ended up even closer now, and it's a single look; lottie's already been looking slightly down at nat-but now, her eyes drop impossibly lower for a split second-right to her lips, and directly back up to their face.

it's the 'go ahead' that she needs.

nat's hand leaves her wrist, moving to grab and pull lottie by the collar of her blue flannel while lottie's hand simultaneously cups the back of natalie's head, pulling her up ever so slightly.

it feels so different from all other kisses they've had, from all the boys when they were drunk or high or both, the boys who she'd kiss so she could ignore who she really wanted to kiss, all the times when they've been fully in control.

lottie doesn't feel like she's kissing natalie to do anything else. not to go any further or to get something out of it. it feels like she's kissing nat simply to feel their lips pressed against hers. it's a breath of fresh air-a joyous laugh in the face of everyone who made nat think you had to go further.

lottie isn't kissing natalie to go further. natalie's never wanted to go further. lottie is kissing natalie's just to kiss her.

and natalie's heart is cheering.

there's no control, everything is sliding in their brain, landing perfectly in it's place-it feels so, so right.

lottie tastes like strawberries and chocolate and for some reason natalie loves it. she wants to bottle it up and drink it when they're having a shit day, or just hold in this moment and never let go.

she feels like she's on the step to the edge of the diving board, right before you jump in, the first breathe of summer air when the school bell rings, the way biting into buttered challah feels.

there's a glowing heat spreading to their chest, their lips, their fingertips as lottie's other hand rests on her hip, she's leaning forward and natalie steps back, intending to let her back hit whatever wall was behind them-forgetting it's an open fridge-and nearly headbutts the pickle jar.

they break apart, and for one terrifying moment, natalie thinks lottie's going to run, back upstairs, back, back and away from her.

but insted, lottie smiles, tracing her hand down nat's arm and intertwining their fingers together.

---------

natalie really thought that after seeing coach's crushed leg, maggots inside a deer, her girlfriends possession and her dad's half missing head every night in their dreams for the past few weeks-nothing gory related could shake her much any more.

clearly, based on how the moment tai's legs gave out and van crumbled in front of them, natalie caught one look at the soaked blood through the clothes on van's face, down their side, down taissa's side and froze-they were very wrong.

she could hear everyone else screaming around her, maibly coach ben’s voice-trying to give off some futile attempt to show authority-but everything tunneled down to van's hand, gripping nat's leg like a lifeline, and the repeated tapping becoming more and more urgent until-

'hug?' morse code.

"yes. yeah, god fuck. van-" natalie wraps her arms around van from the non-injured side, tai still holding tightly onto van's hand.

a vivid memory of both van and nat flinching away from needles during the flu shots given, van bursting into tears only seconds after natalie, comes surging back as nat watches akilah angles the needle to van's cheek, taissa’s fear stricken face, gently rubbing van’s forehead, nat feels van's legs shaking.

nat can barley even watch without feeling her whole body go into panic mode, instead forcing themself to look at laura lee's soft hands holding down van's arm, a carefully crafted mask over the blonde girl's face, whispering silent prayers. she nods at nat, then at akilah. coach ben is at van's head, terror clear as day in his eyes, “carful. please.”

nat holds down van's legs while holding back tears. why van? why happy, funny, kind van? why her best friend? the sudden stillness of van's movements letting nat know that they've passed out does nothing to ease her anxiety, in fact it might make it worse.

she refuses to leave, mirroring tai as the two sit and silently watch over van's sleeping figure. it's only when shauna and lottie come in, shauna sitting next to tai and slowly coaxing her out of the room (not without many protests on tai's part, and one minor attempt from ben-that does not work) and to sleep for the first time in what nat thinks is around 36 hours.

"if you're going to tell me to sleep-"

"never."

lottie's voice is calm and caring, as she takes tai's former seat, gently taking natalie's hand, breaking the grip that the blond had been holding her other wrist in, leaving small, crescent shaped marks.

lottie ran her fingers over nat's hand, tracing the lines and keeping it in place when nat subconsciously jerks back to indenting their own skin.

nat dosen't realize she's begun to cry until lottie's hand cups their head as they fall into her, shaking silently.

something about lottie and holding her head always made nat feel safe. maybe it was the way lottie's hands were always soft, despite the manual labor they'd been in for the past weeks, or maybe it was because she always held nat close and tight. maybe it was that natalie could just exist around lottie, she didn't have to say anything or do anything, just existing was good enough.

the brunette said nothing, just held natalie as close as possible, that same soft, caring way she always did, gently running her hand through their hair.

"they'll be alright."

"what if they're not, lot? what if they'll never be alright? what if-"

"nat." lottie interrupts before natalie can send herself into a spiral, "breathe, baby. ok? can you do that for me?" nat shakes her head, worse case scenarios popping up each time they try to inhale, fists clenched tightly in their lap.

they feel their body move, vaguely aware of her back pressed to lottie's front, lottie's hands worming their way into nat's fists.

lottie's good at this, diffusing natalie's anxiety-not as good as van, she thinks as a fresh wave of anxiety hits.

they don't know how long they sit there, but natalie can feel their breathing go back to normal, can feel lottie press a soft kiss to her temple, "feeling better?" "mhm."

van whimpers, lottie and nat instantly on their feet as van's face twitches.

lottie squeezes nat's hand, another soft smile that has natalie feeling warmer even after lottie's hand leaves, quickly leaving the room to go retrieve taissa.

"nat?"

van gets an answer, non-verbal, but physical, with natalie throwing herself onto van (avoiding all of the wounds) and squeezes them so tight she can feel her own arms straining, "if you ever" nat manages to breathe out, "scare me like that again and i swear on laura lee's bible i will fucking kill you."

van's chest shakes slightly, they wince, slowly forming words, "good to know you love me."

"so fucking much."

---------

only jackie taylor would find a way to have a team bonding moment while trapped in the middle of nowhere.

travis, javi and coach are off having a ‘boys night’ or whatever the fuck that means (lottie thinks they just wanted some alone time) so all the team members are outside around the shitty fire they managed to make with a lot of swearing, minor shoving, and nat’s lighter.

in all honesty, lottie didn’t even want to be here. it’s been getting harder and harder to block out the thoughts that aren’t in her own voice, or to not flinch when she looks at one of her friends and spots a bug on their face. it always starts small.

she’s been falling back in on herself, regressing to behaviors she hasn’t shown since middle school. laura lee notices, laura lee was there when she freaked out in seventh grade, laura lee was there when she got diagnosed, laura lee’s always been there, she always knows.

nat notices, but natalie dosent know, lottie doesn’t want them to know. she’s heard natalie waking up every night, breathe tight and fast, whispers of dead men who haunt them when they’re asleep and even more when they’re awake. natalie dosent need to know. she won’t, if lottie can do anything about it.

lottie smiles to herself at the sight of natalie's face, pushing back her mind and focusing on the shorter girl.

mouth slightly open, pulled into a slight smirk at the left side, brow furrowed with one eyebrow raised, freckles across her nose shining out bright as day in the firelight, she's scoffing at jackie, van snorting next to her, a tight lipped smile doing little to hide the humor on their face while tai watches, a lovesick expression clear as day on her face.

jackie's expression doesn't shift, and laura lee flashes lottie a look from across the circle, "what about never have i ever?"

natalie looks down, mindlessly drawing in the dirt with her fingers, shrugs, "what the hell else are we gonna do?"

"i can recite-"

"van, dude, babe, sweetheart, love of my love-i love you, i truly do, but if you recite the plot of 'dead poets society' again i do not think laura lee will recover from her tears."

"it's really sad, ok?!"

lottie grins again, "ok, next time how about 'heathers'?” van flashes her a grin and a thumbs up as they slump against taissa, the latter kissing them on the forehead as they do, “but for now, we don't need to drink, just hold up five fin-ok we all know how to play."

nat knocks her elbow into lottie, only to drum on her sleeves with her fingers while rolling their eyes at the taller-but it's accompanied with the same smile that lottie only ever sees aimed at her.

mari goes first, 'never have i ever thrown up in school', lottie's finger goes down-a side effect of the first meds her parents tried, so does van's-that one time their mom made them go to school with the flu, and right after seeing van vomit at practice-yep, there goes shauna.

gen next, 'never have i ever gone surfing' where, to lottie's surprise, taissa and melissa are the only ones to put a finger down.

it goes like that for a bit, natalie and lottie both go out for being high at school, jackie for accidentally hitting someone's mailbox more than once in the same car (lottie had to question laura lee's specificities), lottie goes out again with taissa, jackie and shauna for traveling out of the country before, and then it's misty's turn.

"uh..never have i ever had my first kiss?"

van snickers, but around the circle-jackie, shauna, nat, tai, van, lottie, akilah, and laura lee's fingers all go down.

taissa's eyebrows shoot up and lottie can almost predict what she's going to say before she does, "wait-laura lee, who did you kiss?"

the blonde grins shyly, "that wasn't the question."

jackie holds up her hand to laura lee, "nicely done, laura lee."

nat leans forward "ill give you a really cool lookin' pine cone if you tell me." but shauna interrupts before laura lee can respond, “we could go in a circle and say who our first kiss was?"

no one opposes, so she glances at jackie before at the rest of the group, lottie can see most people look calm, jackie looks slightly more on edge, but she's hiding it well.

"so..who's first?"

out of the corner of her eye, lottie sees van and nat glance at each other, then burst out laughing, through gasps of air, they each choke out the others name.

"what?!" taissa's starring at van in shock, and lottie can only imagine that her face holds the same expression as she looks at natalie.

van holds up their hands, giggling at jackie's startled expression and misty's wide eyes, "look. look-we were like 14, and-"

"it was so fuckin’ bad."

"nat!"

"i'm not sorry! it was, it was like kissing your sibling! hated it."

van pauses for a moment, composing themself,"yeah i hated it as well."

lottie sighs, scooting closer to nat, "jealous?" the blonde whispers at her, slight anxiety coating her words, lottie shakes her head, "i think it's funny." nat nods slowly, smiling up at her "ok, thanks."

van giggles, "hey, i mean-remember that spin-the-bottle a while ago when tai and nat kissed?"

taissa scoots away, van almost falling over, "dude!" "i thought we agreed never to mention that."

the four of them laugh again, and misty raises her hand, "wait-ok. who did laura lee kiss, and...how many people here have kissed natalie?"

laura lee catches lottie's eye from across the circle, tilting her head to the side, a silent 'is it ok?'. lottie nods.

"i kissed lottie."

"i beg your fucking pardon?" nat is staring at lottie with the same face she was just staring at them with.

"LOTTIE?!" jackie's mouth is hanging open so wide that shauna lifts up her hand to put jackie's chin back.

"hey! welcome to the gays, man." van is grinning madly when they say it, a double thumbs up in laura lee's direction.

shauna turns to face lottie, who can feel herself going red from how hard she's trying to hold back her laugher, "i was trying to figure out if i liked girls.....what are friends for?"

laura lee giggles, "it was a fun experience, it's not like it was anything bad."

mari shrugs, "i feel a little slighted by the fact that you've kissed someone before me, but going back to the other one-nat. how many team members have you kissed?"

lottie turns to natalie, who glances up at her with a sly grin, "van and tai we've already covered, lottie, shauna-that time at a temple trip on a dare, and ja-"

"it didn't count."

shauna's head snaps to jackie so fast that for a split second lottie thinks she whiplashed herself. "you've kissed natalie?!"

"it didn't count!" jackie repeats, "my first kiss was jeff. besides it wasn't even a real kiss, i'm not a lesbo, anyway."

instinctivly, lottie's hand gripped nat's, who's had already curled into a fist, laura lee and tai had both flinched slightly, while van was glaring daggers at jackie, “what the fuck, man?” -shauna looked hurt.

lottie watched natalie's gaze harden, "yeah, didn't seem to count-what with you pushing me into the locker and-"

jackie lunged forward, clapping a hand over natalie's mouth, knocking them flat on their back while jealously lottie didn't know she possessed spread out through her stomach.

"shut the fuck up." jackie nearly growled, she removed her hand from natalie's mouth, only for the blonde to flash a wicked smirk, "make me."

there was more venom packing the words than any other time lottie had heard nat speak them, and yet while jackie's face flushed red, lottie felt the urge to shove jackie off nat and kiss the latter seneless.

she caught nat's eye, the blonde flashing her a familiar look, 'i can stop if you want.' but as much as she was tempted to nod, some part of lottie enjoyed what she was watching. she shook her head, and natalie grinned.

"what's your problem anyway, taylor? i never said you were gay."

"i'm not!"

van's laugh was stifled by tai's elbow-but she was also giggling.

nat's grin only grew, "then how'd you like to stop straddling me, 'cause this looks pretty fuckin' gay to me."

"i wouldn't know if it was gay or not. i'm not gay." but she still flew off natalie like they were suddenly on fire.

now lottie was trying to refrain from giggling, even shauna-who had looked a little like a kicked puppy up to this point-had shaking shoulders and a hand over her mouth. laura lee looked as if she was about to cover her eyes, but also didn’t seem to want to stop watching.

jackie, on the other hand, was bright red and a mix of angry and embarrassed, "seriously just fuck off, scatorccio-i'm not a fucking dyke, i don't like any of that shit."

van flew to their knees before lottie even had a chance to react, "jackie taylor i swear to fucking god-" but the combined hands of taissa and natalie-both of whom looked like they were about to slap jackie to hell and back, pulled van back down.

looking back on it, it was not the smartest choice, or even the best-and god knows lottie could have come up with a better line-but she thought it was clever in the moment, and so with a glance at natalie, then to jackie, "well, maybe your not watching the right shit, here-let me help with that.”

and with that, she pulled natalie back up to their feet and kissed them as hard as they could.

she could feel natalie's hands digging into her t-shirt, always moving, the warmth radiating off of them, and when nat leaned back into a tree, pulling lottie with her, lottie couldn't help but smile into the kiss, nat grinning right back at her.

they broke apart at van's wolf whistle, that was quickly shut off by laura lee's stage whisper of 'van! let them have their moment!'

later that night, curled up under blankets, listening to mari and gen's soft snoring, lottie pulled natalie closer to her.

the blonde was already half asleep, so lottie faced no sarcastic, half-assed protests that would only really lead to nat cuddling closer like she did every night. she only felt the rhythmic rise and fall of nat's chest and their hands wound tightly in lottie's shirt.

"hey nat?"

"hm?"

"i love you."

nat's eyes shot open, bright blue in the moonlight, staring directly into lottie's.

"......"

"you don't have to say it back-"

"do you really mean that?"

it was only her tone that made lottie hesitate. for the first time that night-even after jackie's comments, they understood but it was still out of line, even after it all-this was the first time natalie's voice was anything aside from sure of themself.

to lottie, they sounded scared, terrified that she didn't mean it and that it would all go up in flames.

lottie didn't want to hear that tone from natalie ever again, not if she could help it.

"yeah. yes. of course i do."

relief washed over the blonde, and lottie felt herself smile, grinning like she was in a cheesy romcom.

"i love you, lottie."

[mcalhenwrites]

Yet another writing-related rant (it's actually a rant lmao)

Okay, I don't want to see "wow let's make sure now more than ever to have positive queer rep" bc while it's good to have that, it's not wrong to have toxic queer characters, and that won't make the fucking fashies like us more!

How about we all just write what we want to write, making sure it's not bigoted*, and stop fucking supporting book bans along the fascists bc if you hadn't noticed, it's after ANY queer rep and ANY rep for people of color.

*And make sure when you're working around this, you're not attacking people who talk about the discrimination they've faced. Work on boycotting bigoted propaganda.

Positive representation is important, but the people who write the less positive stuff aren't your fucking enemy. I fall under the queer umbrella several times, and I've met people who are toxic in that community.

Actually, you know what? I'm a better person than I used to be, but there have been times I've been hurtful or toxic too. I work to be better every fucking day, but I grew up with some shitty people and I used to hurt myself, and in doing so, I was hurting my friends. I would be hard on myself and make fun of things with friends so we could all feel better about ourselves, and do you know what that fucking did? NOTHING GOOD. Sometimes people aren't great. And honestly, someone who isn't great might get better! Someone who was horrible to you might go on to be a better person to other people. As long as they're learning to be better. For those that do harm that requires legal consequences, they need legal consequences. But let's not say "they're not queer" or w/e. Harm is done in all groups.

I'm currently wrapping up a story that has two abusive gay fathers. And before anyone says, "Queer people make better parents" NO ALL PARENTS CAN MAKE MISTAKES

And I've seen plenty of queer people normalize spanking kids, heck I've seen it even when they have spanking kinks. Like, nah, I'm sorry, go fucking read Psychopathia Sexualis cases to see how many found their kink via childhood (and I dislike Krafft-Ebing immensely, but at least he even said "maybe we should stop spanking kids"), look up Rousseau, actually just do any research for an hour and you'll find out how much of a sexual violation that was for so many people when they were kids.

And even if the kids don't find it sexually violating, they can still be messed up from it. It's not effective.

And you'd think(???) with all the queer people who are like "my parents beat the shit out of me when they found out I am gay/trans/etc" they'd be less inclined to be chill about child abuse. But no. Actually. So many still justify it. Practice it. We need toxic stories just as much as positive ones, because it's actually a good sign that if you read something with toxic characters and find it uncomfortable, you recognize that the behavior is bad! This doesn't mean you can't enjoy the story, either! Though maybe you won't, and that's okay!

What's important is that you're like, "Yeah that's not a good way to treat a person IRL, this is interesting to explore in fiction" and stop fucking trying to cancel out everything to please fashies

THEY WILL NOT LIKE YOU EVER THEY WANT TO KILL US ALL

It's why your shitty crap about cutting the B and T and Q out is also just as fucking horrifying. Why it's so curious that we always have to leave the I out! THEY WANT TO END THE L AND G TOO

Ugh I'm so angry.

I have positive representation but damn I have negative representation bc sometimes I need a good fucking cry over my exasperation over the world.

Anyway. Yeah. Today's ruling shouldn't end with "oh my god positive representation of queer people is SO IMPORTANT after today" yeah no let's all be loud and proud, and if someone is truly doing harm, we make sure to take measures to lessen that harm.

I really wish people realized fucked up fiction can be catharsis and informative, and IRL offers some horrifying shit that we sometimes have to write about through fiction to tell our stories or it hits too close to home. I literally was reading a thread about people's experiences growing up in cults/churches just last night and think maybe that's an actual thing to work on fighting in the US.

I'm going to write toxic shit and if you go in thinking that the exposure to it will make you suddenly do terrible things, maybe think about if you weren't already a horrible person going in or why you think fiction is a how-to manual (and never an insight to what has already been done to people). Personally, I can read something awful and go, "Yeah that's wrong, and I have a solid personal moral system that still holds up after I consumed this fiction."

Sorry for the incoherence, this was actually a rant lmao

[bilgisticallykosher]

Don't Jump To Conclusions

TS g/t one-shots

I'm in a Sanders Sides g/t server, and sometimes we take scenarios and write on them. I've written a fair amount of stuff on there, myself, and I decided to collect my stuff, and clean it up. This was partially written by @borrowedblue and @andtheyreonfire

Happy birthday, Vel!

Masterpost | AO3

My Discord, not to be confused with the above g/t Sanders Sides one.

Word count: 3,300

Warnings: Spiders! Spider, anyway. Sentient beings sold as pets, attempting restriction of said beings, mentions of bites, implied past abuse/bad treatment.

-----

Virgil was out shopping. Not for groceries or clothing; he was at a pet store, shopping for supplies for his, let's say, pets. Okay, technically they weren't pets. They were research at the lab he worked at, but he still liked them, even when they did try to bite and attack and hiss at him. His descriptions of such had led people to believe that he worked with cats, but he didn't. 

He worked with spiders. 

Well, a lot of bugs, but he liked the spiders the best. His lab observed their behaviors both individually and in groups to catalog a variety of information. As part of their observations, they needed to keep the spiders in their ideal environment, which included as close to the exact blend of earth as they could get. Unfortunately, they'd run out of their supply today. Fortunately, that sort of stuff was widely available. Unfortunately, they used a very specific brand. Fortunately, they found some in a pet store pretty locally. Unfortunately, Virgil was the one who lived nearest to it, so he was stuck going in and getting it on his way home. What a drag, he had to actually interact with people. 

When he got there, he could see why this was the store that had it. It was certainly… well-stocked. Which, really, was just another way to say "huge." It was like the Home Depot of pet stores; no employees in sight, and aisles in need of some serious maps. But whatever. He at least knew which sections to go past. When he finally got to the specialty mix of dirt, near the back of the store, he grabbed it with an 'Ah-hah!' Then, after his elation had faded, he took in his surroundings a bit more. He looked to his left, and noticed the rescue. 

It wasn't odd for a pet store to have a rescue in it. And despite his surly exterior, well, Virgil wasn't immune to cute fluffy animals. Maybe he just so happened to need to walk back to the registers while passing it by. And maybe while he was walking that way, he'd take a little look. You know. While he was there. 

So, path decided, nodding to himself, he strolled over, bag of soil in hand, and prepared to look at the puppies and kittens. Then he stopped and blinked. There were certainly puppies and kittens, and even a bird there, but there were also some different manner of pets. 

He saw fairies, tiny mers, and all manner of little magical creatures. He walked through the display of cages and terrariums, when one in particular caught his eye. He stared at the sign plastered on the seemingly empty glass case.

CAUTION: I BITE! 

"What the-" he squinted, leaning closer to see if there was anything actually in there. He thought he saw something moving underneath the front of the fake log, and then all of a sudden-

-there it was right in front of him. 

He flinched and took a half step back on instinct, despite the fact that it's in a freaking terrarium, genius, and he took in the creature. It was partly human, but had multiple eyes, and its back half was an abdomen, black with dark blue bands, and had multiple legs. 

A drider. 

It was reared up on its back legs, and it was bearing its (he squinted closer to be certain, and sure enough its human half had freaking fangs), and was generally acting very aggressive.

He thought it- they were trying to puff themself up, emphasizing their eight (eight!!!) limbs, six on the bottom, plus their arms. Their multiple eyes were narrowed, directly at him. They were snarling. 

And Virgil couldn't possibly help but to walk towards the terrarium, warning sign be damned. He sees the spider-person pause, some of the aggression draining out, before they rear back again, seemingly trying to be more intimidating than before. Virgil smirked, fascinated, and sank down into a crouch. He really took in the shape and look of their eyes, and his own eyes widened in response. 

Jumping spider, he realizes, and then, Well, duh, they jumped at you, moron, of course they're a jumpy. He tilted his head a few times, trying to really see the details of the drider, while he had the chance. 

"Woah," Virgil whispered. "You're so cool looking." He watched as they frowned and clicked their mouthparts (didn't look completely like typical chelicara) idly, running their pedipalps over them. They seemed to hesitate, lowering down, and stared at him in a more placated manner. 

Honestly, they were pretty cute. "How far can you jump?" Virgil asked, taking in the size of the enclosure. The creature was watching his gaze like, well, someone who had plenty of eyes, then finally, they spoke up. 

"Far beneath my limit in this facsimile of a proper environment," they crossed a pair of human arms and one set of spider legs. They seemed distrustful, gaze still not fully on him. As though they were apprehensive about his reaction, like it was going to be negative? 

"I'll bet," Virgil responded instead, and he nodded a little as his smile fell into a grimace. "This thing has gotta really suck, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, eyes still flitting over the spider creature's form every so often. They raised an eyebrow. 

"Indeed." Yeah, there was no way they were used to having a normal conversation. They seemed less wary now, but they didn't seem to be holding back their speech at all. Virgil really admired that. He liked that attitude, and that he was the one getting it out of them, and, well, he liked a lot about them. He had...a dangerous thought. 

"What if," Virgil bit his lip, "what if you got out?" The spider huffed, rolling their (well, some of their) eyes. 

"Then I would be able to jump further," they replied, voice clearly dry despite their size difference. 

"No, no," his smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I mean. What if you," Virgil hesitated meaningfully, being sure to emphasize the words. "Got, out." The creature's limbs uncrossed. Virgil saw as comprehension dawned. 

"I am," their words were chosen carefully, he noticed. They had been throughout this entire interaction. "Not allowed to leave my enclosure." Their eyes raked over the human's form. 

"What if I got you out?" The spider person chittered, nervousness written on their face. 

"Theft is not an encouraged activity," they eventually settled on. Virgil snorted and muttered 'be gay, do crime' under his breath. "No, I meant like. Maybe, I could, sort of." He paused, breathed in, breathed out, and tried to look as serious as possible. "Take you home? With an adoption fee and everything?"

"I," the drider swallowed visibly, and of course they didn't trust him, they just met him and he doesn't even know their name, or anything, and he didn't introduce himself- "I am unable to survive in the wild on my own," they finished succinctly. 

Virgil hadn't meant that. They might be a drider, but they were clearly still human, especially after the conversation they'd been having, so, was it wrong that he wanted to take them home? He knew that everyone here was raised to live in a home, with a human taking care of them, just like the pets they adopted out beside them. So, maybe they wouldn't mind if he took them home? But, he guessed that their non-answer gave him his answer, then. That kinda sucked. 

"My name's Virgil," he blurted out before he forgot again. "He/him." They stared at each other for a moment. "Uh, what's your name?" He saw them startle, "I mean, y'know, only if you don't mind."

"My name is Logan." They said, voice even, still, but maybe a little less cautious, he thinks? "I… am also male?" And Virgil couldn't help but smirk again at his confused tone. It was sort of adorably endearing. His eyes drifted towards the sign again. 

"So," he smirked a little more. "You actually ever bite anyone before?" Logan rolled (all of) his eyes. 

"Of course," he pointed to the sign. "Otherwise, it would not be stated on my tank." He sounded almost a little proud. He went on, clarifying despite not being asked to. Virgil was not complaining. "Two separate humans, not to mention the time a child opened my tank after wandering away from his parents." His pedipalps whisked over his face, "I jumped just under my potential that day, unfortunately." He didn't sound sorry at all. Virgil's mouth twitched dangerously. "I landed right on his head."

Virgil burst out laughing. Several people in the store turned around to see what the commotion was about. A volunteer in particular hesitated, before starting to come over to the pair. Logan looked smug, Virgil wiped a tear from his eye. 

"Hello, sir, may I help you with anything?" The voice came suddenly from over his shoulder. He just barely suppressed a flinch. 

"Ah!" Couldn't suppress the scream, though.

"You two seem to be getting along!" The volunteer said. "Do you have any questions about him?" The tone of the question was clearly an underlying 'Would you please take him?'

Virgil gave a look towards Logan's direction. He looked back at Virgil. Maybe, Virgil thought, not as hesitant as before.

"Well," Virgil pulled his gaze away, "maybe just a few."

~~~~~

Logan watched the human- Virgil- as the volunteer led him away, and he found himself repressing a pout. He'd been… nice. Pleasant. Tolerable. 

Okay, so Logan had enjoyed his company, and his conversation. It had been quite some time since that had happened with a human. In fact, it had been quite some time since any conversation at all had happened with a human. They never spoke to him directly. Every human he'd ever known had spoken over him, both literally and figuratively. Especially here, where they spoke instead to the volunteers and his general caretakers. 

He exhaled. Perhaps his standards for 'good conversation' had just slipped considerably. As well as his standards for 'acceptable human.' After all, there he was, discussing taking Logan into his home, with someone all-too-anxious to never see him again. Nice or not, he had to be cautious. He seemed like he cared about his opinion, but that was the thing about humans; they were good at seeming. 

He gave up on trying to listen into their conversation. They were far away, and it only seemed to pertain to what supplies he would need if he took him. At the very least, the volunteer was doing their job of explaining his needs. He skittered into the fake log that was in his environment as he considered his future. 

This was not the first time he'd met someone excited to see him, eager to adopt him. It had happened, once before. He'd been much younger then, much more innocent, much happier, much more eager to go into a home with a human family. 

That eagerness and happiness had lasted about a week. 

And, well, that's why he was with a rescue now. 

He considered Virgil. He spoke to him, yes, was interested, but he was still larger; Logan surmised he could easily fit in his hands, probably even only one. He had more legs, and more eyes, and could jump, and had venomous fangs (barely, to a human), but he was still the one with the disadvantage. A severe one. He shuddered from memories he'd considered long in the past. Apparently, they were still with him in the present. 

Likely, he would not get an opinion on who he went home with, anyway. It was why he made it a point to be so aggressive with everyone who came over to him. But Virgil… Well, he supposed he would see, and soon. The two humans were walking towards his enclosure again, this time Virgil had a large bag of items relevant to Logan’s care. 

He poked his head back out, eyes roving over his figure. Virgil smiled at him, one corner of his mouth tugged further up than the other. He turned to the volunteer. 

"Could you, I mean, if there's maybe…" he made a gesture with his empty hand, seemingly unable to finish his thought. "I kinda wanna," he lost his momentum again. He inhaled and exhaled a few times. "Could I just have a minute with him," he rushed out. The volunteer made some sort of face, but nodded, and left. Virgil took a step forward, and Logan met him (as much as he could from within his glass case) halfway, stepping out from his log. He was certainly more willing to be out in the open with only Virgil there. He returned a tiny, if uneasy smile of his own. 

Virgil crouched down again. "Have you really been here for most of your life? Around humans?" Logan blinked. That took some time. 

"Yes," he admitted. "I was abducted too young to learn any survival instincts." He couldn't say why he so willingly told him his past, but Virgil wanted to know, and Logan knew what that thirst for knowledge was like. "How did you know?" He wasn't accusatory, merely curious, undoubtedly as Virgil had been. 

"Volunteer told me," Virgil made a slight face, and Logan wondered what else he'd been told about his past. He was about to ask, but Virgil continued. "Said you'd been waiting here for way too long." There was a look on his face that Logan had only seen on childrens' face moments before a tantrum. 

He believed that Virgil was sad, but he couldn't figure out why. "That you'd been rescued from a bad situation." Ah. "Uh, listen." Virgil brought a hand up, and Logan flinched, but it was only to awkwardly scratch at his cheek. 

He looked at Logan intensely. "I know we've only known each other for a bit, and I totally understand if your answer's no, but." He looked pained. "Um." Virgil coughed into his hand, likely a gesture to fill the silence rather than a violent expulsion of the contents in his throat. "Would you? Like me? To uh? Take you home? Er- fuck." Virgil groaned, clearly frustrated by his own ineloquence. "Would you like to live with me? I could offer you a bigger space than what you've got here, take care of you- that water looks too old to be healthy- and you can decline if you want. I just- yeah," he finished, slumping over with hunched shoulders from the effort. 

Logan considered it. He considered it for a while. He considered the short time that he'd spent with the human, and made his decision. At the very least, Virgil wouldn’t be that cruel compared to his...other options. Logan nodded. The smallest of smiles flitted up onto his mouth, and that was apparently what Virgil was waiting for. He offered him a 'be right back', and went to grab an employee. Logan took in his cage one last time, hope was rapidly raising in him.

Meanwhile, Virgil was paying for his purchases as well as Logan's adoption fee. When he came back, it was with the volunteer, who was carrying a smaller containment box meant for transportation, and something else in the other hand. 

Logan's habitat was opened, and suddenly, the volunteer's hand plunged into his tank, startling Logan out of his thoughts and immediately put him on the opposition, fangs bared and ready. It didn't matter, though. The volunteer was wearing thick rubber gloves, preventing any form of retaliation on the part of the drider, and he was grabbed roughly around the middle. He hated being held, nobody knew how to properly hold him; he wasn't a human infant, why did they insist on holding him that way? Unable to resist, Logan squirmed in the grip of the human, receiving a light squeeze and a pained look from Virgil for his efforts. 

“Now, just to get him all ready for you,” the volunteer chirped, bringing a bundle of rope into view. Logan’s eyes widened, and he started struggling anew.

As if he hadn’t moved a muscle, Logan felt his arms being pinned and bound behind his back, knotted tightly. Logan couldn't move his upper arms. The volunteer had just grabbed a few of his legs between two fingers, Logan was kicking and still trying to bite, when-

“The hell are you doing?” Virgil asked in a tone that was, quite frankly, utterly terrifying. It made Logan shudder, before almost instinctively he stopped his efforts to escape. Was this Virgil's true nature, then? 

"Oh, this is just standard procedure for all dangerous creatures," the volunteer responded. And Logan's head snapped up to the two. His internal organs seemed to quiver, as much as he knew that wasn't possible. Virgil had been upset at the volunteer? "Just for everybody's safety." 

"Well then," his unending glare at purely the volunteer seemed to confirm who his ire was directed at. "I guess you'll have to untie him, because I don't think he's a danger to me at all." The volunteer stared back, and understandably backed down. 

"Well, you're his new owner, so!" And Logan remained untied, minus his upper arms, and placed in the transportation  carrier. Virgil paid the adoption fee, and took Logan by the handle, and he felt a thrill of freedom, combined with an atypical bout of anxiety. 

"Hey," Virgil started, as they were walking out of the store. "There's some more stuff on the shelves that I could get you,"  Virgil rolled his shoulder. "It's not, like, required equipment or anything, but some of it looked like it could be kind of cool?" Logan squinted. 

"Why would cold items be preferable to own?" Virgil smirked and then bit his lip. 

"No, I mean, like." He mulled it over, tilting his head. "Nea- no." He exhaled some air out his nose. "Fun? Awesome?" Ah. 

"I suppose, if you wanted to look, I would not be opposed." Virgil smiled, and for the next half hour, Logan was treated to a trip around some of the aisles. Virgil held up his cage, letting him look at some of the items made for a drider's physical and mental engagement. He let Logan decide entirely what he did and did not want to buy, even though he was sure it was difficult for him to keep lifting the transport box, in addition to being a tedious way to shop. His favorites were a little him-sized version of a 'Rubick's Cube,' as well as a better version of the log cave that he'd grown accustomed to in the store. 

He paid when he got up front, and they made their way to his car, placing his other purchases in the back. He put Logan on the seat next to him, 'passenger seat,' Logan vaguely recalled. He was about to buckle him in. 

"Alright, sit tight," Logan was about to ask what that meant when Virgil gasped. "Holy shit, I forgot about the rope." He dropped to the ground, crouched again, and opened the top of his carrier. He carefully took his fingers and untied the ropes, immediately freeing his arms. Logan rubbed around his wrists on instinct, "I'm sorry! Does it hurt? Are you okay?" Logan looked up at Virgil's earnest, open face, full of concern for Logan, and thought of how he'd treated him this entire time, how hopeful and excited he'd been. 

"Yes," Logan smiled. "I think I will be."

-----

In my mind he kinda looks like this, and check out that cool size comparison chart at the bottom!

My favorite line from the original: I guess there's like normal things there like cats and dogs and birds and like maybe magical-y things like, winged cats and winged dogs and winged birds.

Taglist

@callboxkat @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @thefivecalls @awkwardjester @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun @demoniccheese83  @thatgaydemigodnerd @aceawkwardunicorn @lookingforaplacetosleep @mirinda03 @robinwritesshitposts @averykedavra @potatsanderssides @hekking-happy-nonsense @enby-ralsei @star-crossed-shipper  @a-fandom-trashdump @thefluffyotter33 @somehow-i-got-an-account @cottonwoolsocks @idontcareaboutcanon   @starlight-era @kieraelieson  @snowdice @callboxkat @10moonymhrivertam @just-some-gt-trash @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know

[oliviayamaoka]

The Roseville Murders (Chapter 2)

Hi, just wanted to say I adjusted the plot slightly and will go into more detail with the story next chapter! This was a bit experimental and I wanted to write the growing relationship / rivalry between Y/N and Danny. I also wanted to write Y/N as a girlboss and to be just as witty as Danny!

Anyways, please comment any ideas or suggestions you may wanna see in future chapters! I have this planned out but would love any ideas or stuff I can add into the story! Tysm for reading!

It rained softly outside as you took a seat at your workplace. The desk was a bit cluttered with your art, notes, junk, and your papers regarding your current investigation.

One of the drawings on your desk was a sketch of Ghostface’s mask, attached to it was a few notes regarding the origin of the mask. Did Ghostface care for the history of it, anyways? You already theorized he was a narcissist who took pride in his work. Perhaps, he admired Edward Munch and his infamous “The Scream” artwork? Or maybe he based his persona off of it? You weren’t too sure but you did research the distribution and the company that made the masks. It wasn’t a particular popular company but it only distributed to the USA, Canada, and Brazil.

Ghostface didn’t seem too caring when it came to where he stabbed victims. As long as there was a lot of blood and something only he could perceive as art. And maybe you too. You felt excited, you already had a three year timeline. Maybe, you could get ahold of other states and ask if there’s been similar killings. Maybe even Brazil and Canada? You had to pinpoint a location and see if you could find just one name, any name.

Three years. Three countries. A part of you doubted he was Brazilian. Maybe Canadian? You weren’t so sure, you were pretty sure he was American. Y/N would probably have to go to the library tommorow to do research and use the slowly growing internet. Your research was suddenly halted when you knocked your sketchbook over.

Our slid a page. You kneeled down to pick it up, holding it as you examined the dark sketch. On the paper was a sketch of claws? No, they also looked like tentacles. Ever since the incident, you had dreams of these tentacle claws grabbing you and pulling you away from life as you know it. It must’ve been a sign of trauma or maybe it represented what happened through the nightmares? You slid it back into your sketchbook, deciding not to dwell on it. It would only make your room feel more depressing.

Beside your sketchbook was your leather journal. Y/N wrote everything in there, for mental health reasons. You included the incident and what Jonathan did for you. Your previous therapist said journaling your thoughts helped the healing process. It worked but journaling about how you killed your abuser was hell.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when your phone rang. It was a chunky, black mobile phone you got about a week ago? Y/N reached for it and answered.

“Hello?” You answered, using your other hand to organize your desk.

“Hello?” A voice answered, it was a male by the sound of it.

“Hi, who’s this?” Y/N asked, paying no mind to the phone call as she started to put some of her stuff away. Art supplies.

“Who’s this?” He replied.

“Y/N L/N, am I who you’re trying to reach?” You asked, sitting back down.

“Ah, you’re no fun, detective.” He chuckled as you stopped, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. Who was this?

“My apologies but, this is my personal phone. Can I ask who gave you this number?” You questioned him.

“Why does it matter, gorgeous? I know it’s you now.” He responded.

“Please don’t call me that. And yes, I am indeed a detective but I’d feel more comfortable discussing anything with you on my work phone.” Y/N said sternly.

“Oh, yeah… Detective L/N, huh? Think you’re some sort of hotshot because you’re new? Where did you come from? Washington? Gonna take more than the feds to catch me.” He said to you.

You listened intently and stopped for a moment. Catch him? Must be a stupid prank. Although, not a funny one since he had your personal phone number. An eyebrow raised as you looked at your notes on Ghostface.

“You still haven’t told me your name. Let’s not be rude, yeah?” You responded, being a little more cocky since you were off-duty.

“Awe, don’t tell me you forgot my name. I’ll give you a hint… I’ve been quite famous lately. In fact, I think you’ve taken quite the interest in me, Y/N.” The man teased. It was 100% Danny.

“I asked for a name, not an alias.” You said.

“Maybe after dinner, hotshot.” Danny said to you as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m not in Roseville to play games. Either verify you are who you claim to be or quit wasting my time.” Y/N spoke with a stern tone.

“My last victim had three stab wounds to the throat. It was going to be two but their scream wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would be. And they had a tattoo on their upper thigh. Bella Smith.” He said as you froze for a moment.

It was true. The latest murder victim was a middle-aged woman named Bella Smith who worked at a convenience store. She had multiple stab wounds but it was pretty much impossible to see she had three wounds on her throat just looking at photos of the crime scene.

“Okay and how did you get my number? I imagine the infamous Ghostface doesn’t have access to these types of things. How do I know this isn’t some sort of elaborate prank orchestrated by my coworkers?” You questioned.

“Honey, I am Roseville. Also sounds like you have experience with these kinds of things. You ever get humiliated like that?” Danny asked, grinning widely.

“No, it’s just a very logical conclusion. And why would you be talking to me anyways?” You asked him.

While you spoke to him, you quickly wrote down what he said and what he sounded like. You quickly speculated what his age may be, maybe 25?

“I keep tabs on the cops who are investigating my work and to be honest? They’re all stupid, it’s pathetic. Although, I noticed something about you. You come from one of the big cities, don’t you? You’re actually smart compared to those other pigs.” He said.

“Those pigs you speak of have tried their best in pursuing you. They have families too.” You responded.

“Really, huh? You’ve only been here three weeks? I think you should just trust me on this one because those other officers really don’t know what they’re doing. If you actually find out who I am, are they gonna give you credit? The newbie? A woman?” He asked.

“I don’t understand why gender is an issue. And why would they try to steal credit?” You questioned.

“They’re stuck in this shit hole city and I bet they could just really use a promotion right now. They want so badly to be the hero that arrests me… but first, they’ll let the freshly graduated detective do the work. It’s so easy to overshadow women in this world.” Danny said.

“Well, I don’t care. As long as you’re put behind bars.” Y/N responded.

“The bars at this station? I must say, your desk is quite cute. A bit plain but I like your style… interesting files too.” He mused.

“Huh?” You responded, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Your lil’ office at the station, I like it. This place has always been easy to break into. You noticed it too, didn’t you? Their security sucks and their morgue is just too damn small.” Danny said as you frantically looked around, shoving your shoes on.

“I’m going to call them right now and tell them you’re there. That was a stupid move on your part.” You said, practically yelling.

“So young and naive. I’ll be long gone.” He responded, chuckling as you hung up.

“Fuck, shit!” You said, quickly dialling the number to the police station.

You practically flung your door open, sprinting down the hallway and out through the front doors of the apartment complex after three flights of stairs. Your heart rate increased as you continued running down the sidewalk, feeling more frantic when there was no answer.

“Answer…!” You yelled, calling the emergency number.

“911, how can I help you?” A staticky voice answered as you continued running.

“I’m Detective Y/N L/N! Please inform the police station that there’s an intruder! He might be armed and dangerous! Do not touch anything since there may be forensic evidence!” You instructed.

“Oh—yes, right away, ma’am!” The dispatcher answered as you hung up, continuing to focus on your running towards the station.

Back at your apartment complex, there stood Danny with his own mobile phone. It couldn’t be traced back to him since it was stolen and he didn’t leave any DNA on it. If anything, it had the previous owners. Bella Smith. Your apartment complex had fire escape stairs outside your window. Easy enough, he thought. His outfit was black and had some stuff hanging off it. Strings? Ribbons? Danny was quite quick and extremely quiet when it came to climbing the set of stairs.

He reached your window, pulling it open gently and hoisting himself through, landing gently whilst kneeled down. For precaution, he had his knife gripped in one hand. This was purely for investigation and to see what you truly had on him. His head tilted curiously as he noticed your desk. Your art and notebook. His gloved hand reached out to your sketch of him.

Danny was truly impressed at how detailed and good it was. He read through your sticky notes and theories. Other than the fact he was blown away, he knew you were a threat since you successfully guessed his age range and height. Wait, his height? You did a careful examination of the footage he was in, looking at objects around him and his boots to correctly guess a height.

“What the fuck…?” Danny muttered as he looked at your notes.

The Scream by Edward Munch and a costume company? He skimmed over your notes and the psychological profile you built on him. He felt somewhat panicked since you were indeed no joke. His gaze averted towards your leather notebook. Eagerly, he grabbed it and opened it. Most of it was your thoughts and causes of your stress and anxiety. He stopped flipping through when he saw a darker page. It was dark because of the writing and how crumpled it seemed.

December 23rd, 1992

I was walking down an alleyway two weeks ago. It was cold so I had a jacket over my uniform. I suppose that’s why the man didn’t know I was an officer.

At first, I thought that he was going to try and rob me. It took me a while to realize that my money and belongings wasn’t what he was after. I suppose it would be appropriate to say that I was in shock for a moment. He never finished what he started. Despite being in shock, I was able to feel everything and the adrenaline only helped my rage.

Why? Why did this have to happen to me? After getting him off, I pulled my gun out and he stopped. I still remember the look on his face after I shot him. He was scared and pathetic, as he was in life. I don’t regret killing him. I never will. I just feel utterly violated. Never once have I been touched like that so violently. Is this what this fucked up world has come to? What if I didn’t have my gun and training?

He definitely did this to other women… he deserved to die. And I would do it all over again to him and to other men just like him. Of course, I had to call the police. They were going to charge me with manslaughter but they said that they would push this all under the rug, just as long as I never tell anybody. Did I contribute to corruption in the police force? This getting out would ruin everything. I don’t know but I do know that this was my gift.

Freedom was my gift for killing that man. It felt oddly exhilarating. I hope nobody remembers him, I hope his family know what kind of monster he was. Anyways, I’m being reassigned somewhere. They said they’ll give me my first investigation. In a smaller city.

Danny’s fingers trailed over the page. He felt angry and sad for you. That this happened to you. But, something arose in him when he kept re-reading that paragraph. You… enjoyed it? Behind the mask, he had a soft expression on his face. He imagined your beautiful face full of blood with you and your gun. He smiled gently as he kept the notebook.

He did indeed feel bad for you but he wasn’t satisfied with his limited knowledge of you. Danny decided to use this notebook of incriminating evidence to hold some leverage over you. Not only that but he figured he’d get to know you better if they had something interesting to talk to you about. Danny couldn’t help but grin when he thought about your journal entry and the sketches you made of him. So smart yet so naive.

Danny quickly took a look around your apartment to see all points of entry. He took a peak into your bedroom, it was neat and tidy. He seemed somewhat paranoid so quickly went back to your living room window, making his swift little escape. Not without taking some of your notes on him and your sketchbook.

About two hours later, you rubbed your eyes in frustration as another officer came to talk to you. There was a forensic team still investigating your little office space. Apparently, there was nobody here and your office seemed untouched. For about thirty minutes, you inspected any points of entry and tried to look for out of place shoe marks since it rained outside.

“Detective, are you certain it was the killer who called? We get prank calls a lot.” He said as you nodded.

“Yes, I’m certain. It was him, he knows I’m going to catch him soon.” You said as he nodded a bit.

“Okay, well, we’ll take it from here. Come early tommorow.” He said as you sighed.

“I will but please, don’t miss anything. I’m starting to think he was lying. It was him though.” You said as you turned, walking down the hallway towards the exit.

It seemed to be evening at this point and the rain stopped pouring. It was slightly humid but the city looked oddly beautiful when it was wet? You couldn’t stop thinking about your phone call with Ghostface earlier. Y/N already had some tech professionals try to track the number he called from and all of the information regarding the phone company. You’d have to wait two days at the latest for the results to come back.

As you walked through light puddles, you felt more and more tired. All the running and frantically searching for him was enough to just make you exhausted. It was all last-minute too. Y/N stopped dead in her tracks when she felt her mobile phone ring. You pulled it out of your pocket and answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, tired.

“Hey, gorgeous. Just wanted to apologize for my little deception trick earlier.” He responded as your eyes widened.

“Ghostface…” You responded, shocked that he had the courage to call you again.

“God, hearing that from you…” He said with a slight husk as you took a deep breath quietly to calm yourself.

“You know I’m close, don’t you?” You questioned him as he chuckled.

“Of course, I do… only these hands of mine can do wonders for you.” Danny said to you as you scoffed.

“You’re disgusting.” You say to him.

“Don’t lose your temper now, detective. There’s… things we should discuss.” He cooed.

“Things? Seriously?” You asked him, already tired of his bullshit.

“Yeah! Like, this lil’ notebook of yours! Really deep stuff… Victor Houston, was it? The serial rapist? Must’ve felt real good to put him down, didn’t it? Did it feel as good as you said it did in this thing?” He asked as you froze.

You probably let out a small whimper of shock as your hands trembled. Your heart pumped hard and fast. It was all you can hear as you felt your face heat out of pure embarrassment and shock. He… read your journal? This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good.

“W-What…?” You asked as he cackled.

“God, you’re so hot when you sound scared. Don’t be offended though, babe. You still sound real sexy in your cop tone.” He said as he continued.

“Yeah, I read all about the guy you killed. And how it was all covered up to accommodate you. Are you a star student or something? It’s hard covering up murders… or has it always been easy for you?” He asked.

“I-I, um… how did you get that…?” You asked him, trembling.

“You see, Y/N… we’re the same. You and I are too smart for Roseville. It’s just that I got the upper hand this time. While you rushed to the police station, I took a quick trip into your apartment.” He said as you let out a light gasp.

“Yeah, that’s right! I know where you live, I know where you’re from, and your number. I know who you truly are, Detective Y/N L/N.” Danny said mockingly.

“And what are you going to do with it?” You asked him.

“Always so straight to the point. I might give that annoying little journalist Jed Olsen. You’re trying to work with him, aren’t you? You mentioned in one of these notes… you also think he’s handsome.” He said as you covered your eyes.

You fought tears.

“Why? Why would you do this?” You ask.

“I should be asking you that. I’m a bit jealous you find someone like Olsen… attractive. He’s so boring, so normal, so… ugh, I hate talking about him. Still though, nice to know I have another fan besides him.” He said to you.

“Where are you going with this?!” You snapped as he chuckled darkly.

“I won’t tell anybody. Just as long as you halt your investigation for a while. I still want to have fun in Roseville here and well… get to know you.” He said.

“Go to hell.” You muttered.

“How original… so what’ll it be? I kinda need to know now since I’m also on a bit of a time crunch.” Danny asked you.

“W-What the fuck do you want me to do? Sit back and watch as you kill more innocent people?! I won’t let you.” You said with a venomous tone.

“What are you gonna do? Stop me behind bars?” He asked mockingly.

“Fuck you.” You said.

“I’m sure we will. But first, I just want you to sit back and not do anything stupid. We’ll see each other eventually. I’ll call you from another phone soon.” He said, hanging up.

You held your phone in disbelief and quickly made sure you had your gun. How the hell could you have been so dumb?! It was genius, leading you away from you apartment and finding such leverage against you purely out of luck. Your breath trembled as you walked back to your apartment, having your gun ready in your pocket as you did so.

[ulalumewitch]

A Song of Shadows and Light

Short Story inspired by “Day 6: Book Predictions” by @gwynrielweek - my prediction is that Gwynriel is end game and they are mates. This takes place an undetermined amount of time into the future after ACOSF.

Author Note/Warning: Brief mentions of past abuse. If you find these ideas triggering, please skip. I hope I addressed them with the care and sensitivity they deserve.

word count: 3,279

theme: a bit of angst, feels

please note: light adult language used.

*******

Azriel’s shadow’s did not speak to him. It remained his biggest secret. They did not whisper in his ear. They did not shout, nor did they cry, nor did moan.

His shadows sang.

He always thought people would assume the truth given the name, but they never did. Others sometimes asked, ‘What do they say? What do they sound like? Do they speak to you often? Do they speak in riddles?’ But never did they ask, ‘Do they sing?’

The first time Azriel heard their song had been while staring at young hands wrapped in bandages as he sat in the cold, damp hell of darkness. The inky black he’d learned to survive in had been no life at all but the sort of torture no creature should endure. Especially not a child.

Azriel had always been intelligent. His mind worked in patterns and puzzles. When he’d been allowed to begin an education beyond the fundamentals of reading and writing - when Rhys’ utter saint of a mother took him under a literal wing - he seemed to understand everything taught to him the moment the instruction passed her, or any teacher’s, lips. Initially, Azriel thought it a gift.

Until he realized the curse of it. He never forgot anything he read or heard, and he never forgot a face. His memory remained woefully accurate. While it made him an excellent spy, Azriel used to pray to the Mother to take his memory away, to take his ability to remember the finest minute details away. Or at the very least the bad memories away…

There were seven cracks in the stone on the floor where he used to sleep, where the damp seemed a little less chilling. Twenty stones around his lightless cell. He learned them all by feeling, touching, counting. Games to keep his mind from wondering if perhaps he’d died. If, perhaps, the Mother forgot about him …

Azriel turned his face up at the sky and let the rain fall softly against his face. His wings twitched slightly at the first contact. Warm, summer rain. Refreshing. Revitalizing. The burgeoning storm ushered in cool air and finally broke the suffocatingly hot, humid weather that had plagued Velaris the last week.

He took a deep breath. And another.

The memory of the first song his shadows sang to him was not an unpleasant one. Perhaps one of the only memories from that place that didn’t belong to a nightmare. They did not sing of freedom or of hope. They sang of light. They saved him.

Every once in a while they would sing of that light. The light of stars against darkness, the light of dawn breaking after another battle won, the light of eyes sparkling in love. They wouldn’t sing of it often, but they usually sang when he needed it most.

Or whenever Gwyneth entered the room. They sang of light around her the most. Their song became loudest when she was near him and it always complimented her words, as if providing a symphony to accompany the voice that filled his dreams with rest. Real rest. Those few precious nights they fell asleep side by side doing research in the library had been the most peaceful and restful nights of his entire existence.

Azriel had been a fool. For all of his abilities to ferret out the secrets of others, to become those shadows to learn what words were whispered in the dark, he’d lost the ability to see past his own shortcomings.

He’d searched for the love he’d missed as a child his entire life. Azriel desperately wanted it for his own, to heal those old wounds and to finally become the creature he always thought he could be.

Instead, he’d lived in delusion after delusion. First, the Truth Telling Warrior Queen, and then the Lady of Flowers and Sun.

It wasn’t their fault, nor was it totally his. He didn’t realize how wrong he’d been until the creature the Mother and Cauldron had paired him with left.

Azriel couldn’t blame Gwyneth for leaving. It was the right move for her. The fact that she healed, that she worked so damned hard to be able to start a new life went beyond admirable. And she’d did it on her own. True, she had her Valkyrie sisters, himself and Cass as her mentors, and the Priestesses … and it was because of that support system that Gwyn was able to save herself from the dark and to follow her own dreams and her own path, whole and healed and independent.

And he would never stop her from being herself. Even if it ripped his heart to shreds to see her go. Even if he fought every day not to winnow to that sanctuary on the other side of the Night Court as she and the others began helping others heal from their own nightmares.

He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen in love with her. Hell, he didn’t even know he’d been in love with her until she left without saying goodbye. Until he found that godsdamned note pinned to his door, rolled up with a teal ribbon around it.

Again, words he wished he could forget burned into his memory …

Do not let the water break you, Shadowsinger. Do not be scared of the warmth light can bring either. Let it illuminate you, every part of you, because you are a creature deserving of every happiness, Azriel, and only you can stop you from finding it. I pray, one day, you will be able to leave your fear behind you. ~G.B.

Azriel lost her because he was afraid. The thing he’d chased his entire life alluded him because he’d finally found it and was too damned cowardly to admit it to himself. To admit that the teal-eyed Priestess Valkyrie Carynthian was in fact the love of his godsdamned life.

And she’d left and he refused to be selfish and to do anything that might potentially ruin the happiness she fought for and won. If anyone deserved living in the light of happiness and peace, it was Gwyn.

Azriel closed his eyes, the rain beginning to fall a little harder. A low rumble of thunder in the distance that belonged to nature and not his High Lord, rolled through his bones. He welcomed it.

“I’m sorry I was a fool,” Azriel said out loud.

The rain fell harder, drowning out his words. But as he said them, a small weight lifted as his shadows swirled around him, keeping some of the drops off of his skin. Their touch soft and reassuring.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

Lightning flashed. Another crack of thunder.

‘She sings for joy and hope, her voice like a snow white dove,’ his shadows lilted, singing in his ear.

Azriel smiled through his tears as they mixed in with rain. She was happy then, she was exactly where she needed to be.

“I love you, Gwyneth,” he shouted to the storm.

Lightning and thunder and rain and his shadows sang melodies to mix with the symphony of the storm as the entire weight of the godsdamned world seemed to be lifted from him entirely. The truth and freedom of it so cathartic he let out a laugh and sob and -

A phantom pull to his middle had the Illyrian warrior stumbling forward, his hands braced and caught himself on the red wall of the training circle atop the House of Wind.

Another tug near his sternum … right over his heart …

Azriel turned as his shadows’ melody, wordless and sweet, crescendoed. A rush of breath passed through his lips as he found wide teal eyes staring at him.

He couldn’t move. For the first time in his life, Azriel forgot everything. If anyone asked him his name he likely wouldn’t remember.

All that he knew was that the beautiful creature walking towards him was no mirage. She stopped in front of him. Her beautiful copper hair somehow still shining through the dark and in the rain as it plastered to her head.

Something sparked in his chest. And Azriel, for the first time in his life, knew true happiness.

********

Gwyneth’s heart pounded as she ran through the house. It closed doors as she approached rooms as if telling her to keep going, the Shadowsinger would not be there. She had dreamed of Azriel every night since she’d been gone.

His hazel eyes, his cheekbones, his lips - those lips that she’d stare at and would forget to actually listen to what he was saying. And she’d have to ask him to repeat whatever it was and he would always quirk a smile - always the left side of his mouth - and then do as she requested. Like he knew.

But when she admitted to feeling something more than friendship. When she finally worked up the courage to broach the topic, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to push her, he gave the worst response possible.

Silence. Nothing. Not a single sound had passed those lips she’d come to love.

So, she’d left. She would have stayed. Would have carried on her work in Velaris because it was just as fulfilling as the work she now did on the other side of the Night Court. But she wouldn’t torture herself being around the Shadowsinger any longer. She’d taken his silence as a sign from the Mother that it was time for her to fly away from the nest that allowed her to grow and heal, and to live on her own.

She still had Emerie and Nesta for support as they were winnowed in a couple of times a week to help with training. The priestesses and faeries she had started to work with and train she already knew would be friends or at the very least amiable students and colleagues. Her new endeavor was exciting and scary and thrilling and all the things that she always imagined life could be.

The new compound that she, Nesta, and Emerie had dreamed up had been funded by the High Lord and High Lady, having agreed that more sanctuaries like the library should be available to others. It turned out more beautiful than she could have imagined. The Home for Wayward Stars included a temple, training centers, stables, medical building, and library. All to offer services as well as to train faeries in whatever they’d like to learn.

The compound had been built along the sea, nestled in a previously untouched basin surrounded by mountains, not unlike Velaris itself. The High Lord of Day, along with Rhysand, warded it to ensure it remained a safe haven for those seeking shelter. It was also guarded by new members of the Valkyrie so that all who sought sanctuary could begin healing in peace.

The High Lord and High Lady had been beyond kind, and even built her a small apartment that had a balcony that overlooked the sea, the waves crashing right below her and faced east. Every morning the light greeted her along with the sounds of the sea and it was perfect.

Except it really wasn’t perfect because when she woke up from her dreams of Azriel she would be alone in bed. And it infuriated her.

And so, Gwyneth decided to do something about it. The silence of his response ate away at her. She wanted a real answer. She wanted to know if he felt the same or if he didn’t. Even if the answer meant heartbreak she needed it. For closure.

But as she ascended the stairs to the training circle atop the house, her heart began to pound in her chest, and she knew he was up there. When she reached the top step she heard his voice and closed her eyes. Hearing it in her dreams was far different than the real thing.

“I’m sorry I was a fool.”

Was he talking to someone she couldn’t see?

But as she went to step out onto the roof, shadows swarmed her. Cool yet comforting, they swirled around her and gently pushed her back. She furrowed her brow but stayed put.

Gwyn loved Azriel’s shadows. When they’d researched together they’d always provide light touches to any knots in her neck and shoulders as she read, or would offer a cool breeze atop the house when training at night. Azriel always seemed to fret they would scare her but she loved them. Just like she loved him. And she just didn’t understand why -

‘Priestess of Light and Sea and Song, wait, it will not be long.’

Gwyneth’s mouth opened as she stared at the swirling shadows around her. Did they … did they just sing to her to stay put?

But Azriel’s raised voice stopped her thoughts.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you in any way.”

She began shaking. Oh gods, what if he’d found someone else? What if she’d read him all wrong. What if he really was just a supportive friend and she had been so desperate -

“I love you, Gwyneth!”

Gwyn clamped a hand over her mouth just in time to muffle the sound of a small cry born from pure relief and joy. Her hand flew to her chest as her heart pulsed in a quick beat. She furrowed her brow and looked down. No, it wasn’t her heart, but very near it. Something around her heart.

‘We sing for our Master and thee, Princess of Light and Song and Sea, we sing for the mates of darkness and light and sky and sea.’

She stepped out onto the roof, the shadows retreating slightly but remained close to her. Out of pure magical instinct Gwyneth reached deep down into that place near her heart. The place that sparked alive whenever Azriel was near her or whenever she wished he was near her. She grabbed a hold of that place and tugged.

Gwyneth watched in equal parts wonder and amusement as the renowned Carynthian warrior stumble forward in response. He whirled and she couldn’t stop herself as she did it again.

Hazel eyes locked on hers and she knew all of the trepidation she’d felt had been for nought. He loved her. He only needed to go on his own journey to find it. And Gwyneth understood that the dreams she’d had must have been Mother sent to bring her back because Azriel was finally ready to accept the destiny that had been written for them in the stars long ago.

Azriel raised a wing out over her head to shield her from the rain. His shadows continued to swirl around them both.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

“Gwyn,” he breathed out, “What - how -“

She smiled as he sputtered slightly. Gwyn reached forward and laced her fingers through his. Her thumbs lightly running over the ridges of some of the raised bits of scars. Ridges and lines that she’d memorized during their moments alone together.

“I dreamt of you,” she whispered, “And I had to come see you. The house led me here and then your Shadows sang for me to wait while you shouted into the rain. Do you always bother storms with your confessions?”

Azriel’s mouth dropped open. His hands began to shake slightly in hers.

“They sang to you?”

Gwyneth nodded and smiled, “Would you like to venture a guess why?”

She watched, fascinated, as his shadows swirled around his ears. His eyes shuttered slightly and then began to glisten in the dark.

“Is it too soon to talk about a mating ceremony?” Azriel finally asked.

Gwyneth laughed, as tears of pure relief and joy stung her eyes. She ripped her hands from his and threw her arms around his neck. And kissed him.

Azriel’s mouth slanted over hers immediately. The kiss soft but heated as one hand dove into her hair and the other held her waist tightly to him. With the first tentative touch of his tongue to hers, fire lit her veins. She tipped her head back slightly and opened further for him.

His cedar and mist scent wrapped around her as surely as his shadows did, keeping them hidden. Gwyn held on to him, suddenly worried that maybe she dreamt again. That maybe this was nothing but dreaming.

But in that very moment of doubt Azriel pulled away from her. He ran his nose long hers and brushed his lips over hers in a way that made her consider how his lips would feel on her skin.

“This isn’t a dream,” he whispered, “And I love you and I’m sorry.”

She smiled and brought a hand up to cup his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as she ran a thumb along his cheek bone.

“I love you, Azriel. But for your penance I must demand a couple of things for our future mating ceremony.”

His eyes opened and his lips quirked up. The left side of his mouth. Always the left side of the mouth. Her heart leapt in her chest as warmth spread through her.

“And what’s that Berdara?”

She pressed the front of her body to his, allowing her curves to mold to the hardness of him, to the cut of muscles honed over centuries of being a warrior. Her own warrior called to him, ready to take on anyone who would dare to hurt him. The instinct to protect, she mused, and they hadn’t even officially done anything. Not yet anyway. Hopefully not much longer.

“That we have our ceremony by the sea, our feet touching water and land. That we have our ceremony at dusk as day and night hedge on each other. So that sky and sea and dark and light surround us. So for that sacred moment it will seem like we teeter on the edge of the universe and its us. Just us. And that you will do your duties and live your life and I will do the same and we will carve out a life just for us by forging those parts of us together to make a whole. So that we’re both stronger.”

Azriel leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers. He brushed his lips over hers again before placing a chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth. His lips lingered and then slowly pressed kisses to her cheek and jaw line and then … then he kissed the sensitive spot below her ear, warm and pleasant and her knees buckled.

His lips curved into a smile against her skin and she wanted to scream at him to stop - to not stop - to do it again but more.

Azriel moved his mouth to press a kiss to the pulse at her throat, and her toes curled in her boots. All of her breathing techniques forgotten as she struggled to remember how to draw breath into her lungs.

With his blessed lips still against her skin, nuzzling her, he replied, “As you wish, Princess of Light and Song and Sea. It’s a good thing I’ll be able to winnow to you every night. Tell me Rhys and Feyre made your apartment big enough for someone with wings.”

“Our apartment. And yes. Now, kiss me again, Shadowsinger,” she smiled, “And this time. Don’t stop.”

Azriel flashed a grin and before Gwyn could form another thought his lips met hers. And she fell. No matter where she landed, and no matter where her journey led her from here, she knew that she would be living that journey with the Shadowsinger, her mate, beside her.

So they fell together as his shadows sang to them a song of darkness and light, sky and sea, hope and love.

*****************

hope you enjoyed! i love all possible ships and these two give me the feels.

[0aurelion-sol0]

Yo~

What's your opinion on the Will Byers DID theory? If you like it, which version do you like better? Both interpretations seem cool to me, though I personally like strangertheory's version better ^.^

Hi!

That's a very interesting question. I want to start by saying that I am a singlet, so I don't have DiD or OSDD. My knowledge of this condition is primarly known through medias I consume or some more "advanced" psychiatric documents or researches.

DiD is a condition that hasn't been always best represented or accurately represented since this condition varies from people who have it and so while there are similarities, the experience of it is very much unique and personal. It is also something that in a fictional setting with different genres, themes and tones is very hard to pull off or represent unless you go for the very realistic take on it.

It is bound to be, like many other things in fiction, dramatized. And speaking from a singlet perspective, who also had particular problems represented in fiction, I think it's okay as long as it's done right, in the setting, tone and genre it is in.

For example, we have today a lot more LGBTQ+ representation and like everything, unless you go for the fully realistic route, it's going to be simplified and dramatized. There's so many gender identities and sexual orientations today, you have to simplify it. And that goes for many other things that people care about in media, it has to be done right, but the writers still have a story to tell and unless that subject is the focus of the story, they're not gonna always spend their time talking about that. There is a story to tell.

Secondly, if it is the main focus of the story, that is where people have to do their research and really represent what they are talking about. Not some half-baked representation with dull arguments and points that come from a capitalist and conservative worldview. (Looking at you Disney.)

Now what you are referencing are @strangertheory 's and @kaypeace21 's theories which are about the show being about a DiD system where we see different alters evolving in said story with the host being Will Byers.

There is a lot of evidence pointing towards it, I'm gonna let you go see their posts and read it.

But their theories are very different in the way that they see the show portraying DiD, I have actually find quite a great way to describe the two takes.

@kaypeace21 's take is that elements of the DiD system have been externalised through science-"fictional" or supernatural means. Similar to Legion from the Marvel universe.

(David is a powerful mutant with DiD where each alters, if I remember correctly, has a different power or powers. (Which to this day is still one of the most BADASS thing I have ever come across though it must be quite terrifying for David.))

@strangertheory is an internalised POV on the DiD system existing in the show. She believes that what we are seeing right now is what is exclusively happening INSIDE the DiD system and that what we are experiencing is not our standard definition of the "real world". As in the physical world we all know. This would be in very vulgar terms happening inside Will's self, head, mind or brain. In a sense, it would be a more accurate representation of what DiD is about. A Shyamalan twist if you prefer.

(Though right now I don't have any word for word examples of such take, there is a show called MR.ROBOT that fits a bit of this description since there are moments in the show that we are seeing are only happening in the DiD system itself.

I recommend this show A LOT. It still is a bit dramatized but from what I know the DiD representation is quite accurate and pleased a lot of people with DiD. Also some people on the Stranger Things crew worked on that show.)

Now do I love the DiD theory ?

Heck yeah, I fucking love it! And with a big L! (Am I right "The First I love you?").

And I Love both of the takes and I think each one works at explaining the mysteries of this story. I even think that in some ways both could work well together.

I believe that DiD can be, without the meaning of being used, like many things a powerful storytelling "device" since it is connected to so many themes and other writing tools and is linked literally to the psyche, emotions and personalities of the characters.

I can understand why some people like both or one or respectfully and logically dislike both or one of the takes. But it is close to my belief about what the show is about or were even before I came into this fandom or on the internet, not as complex and thought out as the theory itself but pretty close in the overall themes and aspects of it.

(Though it bewilders me how much people lack imagination or are scared of such twist when I have seen so many of those types before whether it's done well or not, accurate or not.)

Now both @strangertheory and @kaypeace21 are intelligent people with very nuanced takes. And they had their fair share of completely unjust controversies coming from either rabbid ignorant shippers, far too sensible people or downright ignorant stupid people, most of the time 16 year olds. I am not saying that they are perfect, no one is, but the hate they have received is completely unjust.

And I am gonna lay it down right here, they are begging for an accurate representation here, they are not doing this because it just sounds cool and is edgy, they are actually wanting that The Duffers pull this off well. They would be very mad if they use all the imagery just to make it look cooler or scarier.

They are not bringer of truths, they are just like us. They are theorists, they believe in something that they think can explain the story they love and are experiencing. And so far, they have a pretty damn good track record.

They are analysing, dissecting the show because it's what they want to do and they believe in it and they believe the Duffers wants them to do that (I mean how come no one believes it when watching a show like that set in the 80's with so many references ?).

It is also supposed to be fun. Have fun for God's Sake! You can disagree with it but calling names and being disrespectful because somehow they don't agree with very basic, lazy and cliché theories (and no it's not being hypocrite, a lot of people barely do the work.) or are not on board with your creepy projection over the characters IS not okay.

And no, they aren't supporting p*d*philia as some people have claimed. How can you read these theories and come up to that conclusion ?

Most people haven't even read the DiD theory or have gone all the way through with it because they are lazy, easily bored people who don't have the time to just relax, process and think.

Stranger Things is not a kids show, some dumb teenage romance drama show with cool monsters! It's a very mature show, with real problems that are treated, out of which is trauma and mental health. Kids are killing people and even dying on this show. There is sexism, racism, abuse both physical and psychological.

It is a very mature and dark show. And you are being disrespectful to the Duffers when you say they are not that smart or that isn't that important. They are putting a lot of thoughts into this and the fact that no one really recognises this annoys me.

Or people only think it's important when it is only about the things they enjoy in the show. (Which is more hypocrite to me.) OR people are very stupid if they truly think that or are just jealous, bitter that two women have more imagination together and individualy than all of them or that person alone.

Color and costume choices, subtext, context, camera angles, directing, VFX, music, editing, sets, props, script, acting and editing are very important. All must be carefully done or you get very bad or generic stuff if you don't. If you love and you are passionate about the work, you put all the details you can into it.

And the Duffers and all the people working with them have already referenced those sort of things AND the practice of what we do on the internet. They are aware, they know because they have been in the same place too. They grew up with stories too, they made theories too whether it's on the internet or not.

At the end of the day, it is just a theory. An explanation of what is unfolding, may unfold or may have unfolded. I believe in it, I think it is reasonable, it has logic and it makes sense. It also has a lots of elements backing it up.

And the Duffers don't even have to go with DiD or mention it. Will creating some of the characters and supernatural events from his trauma is also similar and more accessible to the masses. But a Shyamalan twist can also work if it is done well.

And I am also open to other possibilities and theories, if they make sense and have enough elements IN THE SHOW and everything connected to it backing it up.

If the Duffers write something completely different but it is as good and also explains even better than this theory than I'll be okay. I love being wrong, it makes me learn new things and enhances the way I approach stories in the future.

If the Duffers only used this as some very inaccurate and disrespectful scary/abstract subtext without commiting to it. That is where I will have a problem.

Or write something completely incoherent with the rest of the show with a bad plot twist catering to the main public masses to sell the story even more and just make money so that they are safe with a fallacy of a work of fiction. Because they are cowards who didn't know how to manage themselves and baited entire audiences or listened to some crappy executive who didn't understand shit about the story. (wink wink, looking at a certain something...)

So yeah, I do love the DiD theory and both of it's takes and if it happens and is done right, with of course my perspective on the thing and PRIMARLY the perspective of people who have DiD or know a lot about it, I'll be pleased with it and I think it could be something very important for stories, people, the world and "art" in general.

Thank you for the question it was really fun! I hope I described the theory and the condition in the right way @kaypeace21 and @strangertheory and also the people who are concerned or know about it if I didn't let me know. Also, if you disagree with what I said, the way I said it or the subject itself let me also know IF it's respectful of course.

[neon-junkie]

I haven’t read that callout post for me, I scanned thru it and most of it was bullshit like ‘oh shes racist because she tweeted that Micahs tummy looks like a pillow, therefore she is sympathizing with him!!’ and ‘oh she thinks this PoC chatacter is hot therefore she is fetishizing them!!’

But one thing I will comment on is that myself and my mutuals/followers never said a thing to NewAustin.

First thing, I’m an 18+ blog, why the hell would I be on a minors blog in the first place? I’ve had NA blocked since day one. I’m not comfortable interacting with minors. They, however, never blocked me, and they were behind some of the abuse I recieved.

Next thing, NA said that somebody sent the r-slur to them. Well, NA has also never mentioned their race on their profile. How is anybody meant to know what race NA is? only goes to show that they sent that to themselves. Plus, theyre a child, so they don’t quite understand how serious all this stuff is.

Another thing, I’ve told my followers/mutuals from DAY ONE to NEVER interact with any of the abusive people on this site. I’ve made posts telling people to block said group, and not interact with them. Block block block. Ignore ignore ignore. Don’t feed the trolls, and whatknot.

HOWEVER, just a reminder that ethnic-cowboys, antivaxxer, arthur-dirtydick-morgan2, and the rest of the crew did attack a minor repeatidly not too long ago. I won’t tag said minor, but I have reblogged all the posts about this.

Very strange how the tables turn, huh?

I’ve also said before that if you don’t like my/my posts, then just block me and blacklist the tags you disslike. When you enter a fandom, it is YOUR responsibility to filter out the content you disslike. Blocking/blacklisting stuff is there for you to help cater the content to what you want to see.

If you refuse to do this, which is what that lot have done, then it’s your own damn fault. You can’t attack anybody for making content that you disslike - just because the content isn’t for you, doesn’t mean that nobody can enjoy it.

Again, if you disslike my stuff, please block me. Making out of context callout posts for me isn’t going to do anything, apart from getting your blog removed for the third time for targeted harassment.

Why haven’t y’all blacklisted the Micah tag too? there’s a lot of fans out there, and a lot of content floating about. Why not help prevent your future self getting worked up, by taking five minutes out of your day to blacklist and block all the things you disslike?

Again, block myself, blacklist those tags, and go and enjoy your life. Do you really want to waste your time getting worked up over content you disslike? oh no, this stranger on the internet likes a villain, therefore nobody can like them and they must be cancelled. lol, what a toxic mindset to have. C’mon, put your big boy boots on and filter out that content you disslike.

Why don’t you use all that hatred inside of you to fight something that actually matters, such as all the REAL racism out there in the world? a lot’s been going on recently, not just for racism, but sexism too. Or would you prefer to harass a bunch of strangers on the internet because they’re a bit horny for fictional characters?

Like, damn, go and do something useful. Quit sitting behind your computer screens spewing false claims, when you could be a good person who really does make a difference by targeting real life racists!

EDIT: About the slur fic, that happened almost a year ago. I put my hands up and admitted that I made a mistake there: back when I first started writing fanfiction, I had heard that slur in the games, but thought it was just an insult - not specifically a slur. When I was aggressively informed that it is a slur, I edited the fic, added warnings, and made THREE apology posts where I apologized for my mistake, my lack of research, my general ignorance, etc. The fic is still on AO3 under the name ‘knife play’ with a tonne of warnings. I meant to delete the fic, but I thought ‘abandon’ meant delete (i was new to this stuff,) and now I can no longer edit it in any form. I’ve been talking to AO3′s DMCA takedown team about what I can do to have the fic removed, so we’ll see where that goes.

But yeah, that was genuinely my mistake, and I can see why some people would consider my ignorance as ‘racist,’ but that’s it, that’s the only thing I’ve done that was genuinely wrong. I still apologised for it and corrected it.

EDIT2: i’ve found the third and final apology post, but cant find the other two. you can read it HERE.

[another-bloody-multimuse]

True Intentions

So, the latest Pokemon Masters event gave me Feelings, and therefore I had to write something for it.

Needless to say, this contains Pokemon Masters event spoilers, verbal/mental abuse, and one reference to physical child abuse.

And in case the “read more” breaks, this is also tagged as a long post.

N stepped into the cave, his heart thudding. He could see the oh-so familiar cloaked figure in the distance, and he swallowed hard. He was not alone, for which he was very grateful, but companionship was not doing much to assist his nerves. 

‘You’re sure about this?’ his companion dubiously asked. In Nate’s opinion, N was making a huge mistake, and it was not yet too late to turn back.

‘Yes. This is the answer I’ve come to. I’m sure,’ N insisted, and Nate held back a sigh. Damn it. ‘...Thank you for coming with me, though.’

‘It’s fine,’ Nate replied. ‘I wouldn’t want you to go and see him alone.’

‘Mmmm,’ N murmured. He knew only too well that Nate had a point. ‘We need to be careful when dealing with a man like… him.’

N had tripped over his words. He was uncertain how to refer to the man they were meeting. “Ghetsis”? “Father”? As much as he wanted to call the man “Father”... it was too soon. Much too soon for that.

‘I’m still a little worried,’ N confessed, after a pregnant pause.

‘Yeah, well no matter what happens, I’m on your side,’ Nate promised.

‘Thank you…’

Any further conversation was cut off,  by a sudden interruption. 

‘N! You’ve come to see me!’ a voice called out. For a moment, N froze; when they entered, Ghetsis had his back to them. His and Nate’s conversation had been in whispers, and he had assumed Ghetsis had not seen them yet. 

He shook himself out of his reverie, his face calm, stoic, as he turned to lock eyes once again with the man he called Father, his abuser.

At least in appearance, Ghetsis had not changed. N sincerely hoped that was the only thing that remained static. Incredibly tall, Ghetsis towered over those he met, and his own son was no exception. He still used a cane. N’s gaze lowered to the gloved hand that held onto it, as his mind helplessly wandered to thoughts of what was hidden beneath the cloak. Was Ghetsis’ health the same? Had it improved? Or perhaps worsened?

That was the most likely scenario; Ghetsis always had a great love of expensive wines, scotches and other such alcoholic drinks, and it had taken its toll on him. Combined with one arm, the nerves permanently damaged by his Hydreigon, Ghetsis was an incredibly unhealthy man. 

N lifted his head, staring his father in the eyes. One was still covered, and the other just as vividly scarlet as he remembered. It was difficult for him to maintain eye contact, but he forced himself to push through it. 

‘I’ve come to let you know my answer,’ N declared. He had taken a quiet, deep breath in before speaking, to ensure his voice would not wobble, nor crack.

His head had been spinning, ever since Ghetsis initially approached him. Wanting to be a father to him again…

Though in order for him to be a father “again”, he had to have been one before. N knew that, deep down. But it was a thought he tried to keep pushed to the back of his mind. 

‘Let’s send out our Pokemon,’ N added, when Ghetsis remained silent, just observing him. 

Zekrom and Kyurem were both released from their Pokeballs, two thirds of the Tao Trio coming eye to eye with one another again for the first time in years. 

‘Well? What’s your answer?’ Ghetsis demanded. Still so impatient. 

‘...I don’t think it’s possible for us to become a true father and son so easily…’ N cautiously replied. His nerves were threatening to spill over, and he grabbed the brim of his cap. Something to focus on, while under his father’s scarlet gaze. ‘But… if you’ve really had a change of heart, and are seriously prepared to face people and Pokemon, then… maybe one day, it will be. That’s why I need you to show me that you have love in your heart -’

Ghetsis, the lower half of his face hidden by his incredibly high collar, clenched his jaw together tightly. How the fuck was he going to do that?

‘- through battle!’

Oh. The former Plasma leader relaxed. That was alright, then.

‘Father!’ The word escaped N’s lips, as he called out to the man before him. Ghetsis’ eyes slid shut.

‘I am grateful you’ve given me this opportunity…’ he started, his voice soft. N’s demeanour changed a little - Ghetsis was accepting what he said? Then maybe, just maybe, he had been telling the truth, after all! If Ghetsis could work on his issues, and treat those around him like human beings, and N himself like one, instead of an extension of Ghetsis, then -

‘Thank you for this chance.’ Ghetsis’ voice pulled N out of his thoughts again. The Plasma leader’s face twisted into a wicked grin, as he leant forward on his cane, a malicious glint in his eye. ‘To capture Zekrom for myself!’

No. No, please, God, no -

‘What?’ N gasped. The words left him winded, as though Ghetsis had struck him with his cane.

And it was a feeling he remembered all too well.

‘Now! Restrain Zekrom!’ Ghetsis commanded, his voice thunderous, as N tried to wrap his head around what was going on.

How could you be so stupid? Of COURSE Ghetsis was going to betray you, it’s what he DOES! the former king mentally chastised. How could he have been taken in so well? How, even now, with years free from Ghetsis’ influence, could he still be so easily manipulated? 

As Ghetsis slammed his cane down on the rocky ground, several unfamiliar figures in black and white masks suddenly leapt out, having been waiting for Ghetsis’ signal. More Pokeballs were flung into the air, as more Pokemon were sent out, between N and Ghetsis. 

Crackles of electricity zapped around Zekrom, the giant legendary held in place. N had frozen up again, feeling helpless, lost for what to do. 

‘Zekrom!’ he cried. 

‘It can’t move,’ Ghetsis said, a sinister chuckle coming forth. ‘I took special measures to use Pokemon that can hold it in place.’

N’s hands clenched into tight fists, shaking. How could I be so stupid? The entire thing had been a scam. Not only had Ghetsis prepared his Hydreigon to counter his team, not only had he made sure the Shadow Triad had Pokemon that could take down Zekrom, he had now done the same thing again on Pasio, to ensure he got what he wanted!

And like a fool, I fell for it, N’s mind traitorously whispered. 

‘What d’you think you’re doing?!’ Nate angrily snapped. He looked as though, if the Pokemon were not there, he would run at Ghetsis and try to physically attack him. 

‘I can’t believe you’d actually do such a thing…’ N’s voice was flat, hollow, belying the deep sense of betrayal that was rooting him on the spot. 

‘Of course I would!’ Ghetsis taunted, cackling. In typical Ghetsis style, he seemed to be relishing rubbing salt into the wound. When he spoke again, his voice was a disdainful sneer, not making the slightest effort to mask his contempt for his own child. ‘I only put on that ridiculous act so that I could get my hands on Zekrom! That is all you’re worth to me! As if we could be a true family! Me? With a freak like you?!’

N’s jaw was clamped tightly shut, only barely managing to contain an outburst of pain at Ghetsis’ words. He had heard that insult too many times.

“He’s nothing more than a freak without a human heart!”

“DON’T TALK LIKE A PERSON, YOU FREAK!”

He had lost count of just how many times that word had been wielded like a weapon against him throughout his entire life. Every time he had attempted to talk to his father, particularly about his ability to talk to Pokemon, it had always gone the same way.

And that was no doubt the reason why, as an adult, he was still being called a freak. Because Ghetsis had always refused to believe his claims. 

The fight had left N, and he did not bother to counter his father’s harsh words. But Nate was livid. 

‘How dare you play with N’s feelings like that?!’ he yelled, launching his Pokeball into the air, Braviary bursting from it. ‘I’m going to help N protect Zekrom!’

With an instruction to attack, and N still paralysed, Nate began to battle the Team Break grunts that had gathered under Ghetsis’ command, and easily took them down. As the last opposing Pokemon fell, Ghetsis’ expression twitched, ever so slightly. 

‘...Not bad,’ he conceded. ‘I can feel your anger!’ And it fuelled him.

‘Next is the pair holding down Zekrom!’ Nate declared. The Team Break trainer in question looked concerned as Nate attacked again. 

‘That’s enough.’

A new, commanding voice interjected, as yet another Pokemon appeared. The sleek, yet threatening form of Mewtwo landed between Ghetsis and Team Break, and N and Nate, pushing the latter two back. Mewtwo extended one arm, launching a hard blast of psychic power, taking Braviary down. Trying not to panic, Nate recalled his Pokemon before it could hit the ground, as N gawped at the newcomer.

‘Is… is that…?’ His voice trailed off, his eyes wide in horror when he recognised his father’s ally. 

‘Stay out of my way,’ Giovanni warned, his voice a low snarl. He looked almost exactly as N remembered. He had not seen anything of Team Rocket himself, not even on the news; Ghetsis had done too good a job when Team Rocket were around, of keeping N secluded and ignorant of the outside world. But the boy had heard things from his sisters, and done his own research since escaping Team Plasma. 

This Giovanni did not look too dissimilar to the man he had seen in photos. Perhaps a little older, his face slightly more lined. A few flecks of grey in an otherwise jet black head of hair. But the biggest difference, was the symbol emblazoned on the breast of his jacket. Not a red R, but multicoloured. Reds, yellows, greens and blues, one colour transforming into the other. 

Rainbow Rocket Giovanni rolled up a sleeve. In doing so, he revealed not just the fact that his arm was so heavily tattooed that his skin colour could not be seen, but more importantly, the Mega Bracelet enclosed around his wrist. 

‘Giovanni?’ N questioned, as the man in question approached, coming to a stop beside Mewtwo. ‘W-What are you doing here?’

The realisation that an already bad situation had just gotten worse caused N’s voice to crack. Which in turn made Ghetsis smirk. N was afraid. Good.

‘I just so happened to meet Ghetsis, while recruiting Team Break members,’ Giovanni explained. The apparently leaderless team had been like a gift for him. Already organised, already with their own Pokemon, all they needed was someone to take them under their wing. Someone to guide them.

And who better than Giovanni?

‘He told me all about his plans. And if he’s able to get his hands on your Zekrom, then that works out perfectly for me.’

In just getting him this far, this Ghetsis had already proven himself to be much more useful than the one he had already met and recruited into Rainbow Rocket. But, Giovanni was a smart man. He knew that the Rainbow Rocket Ghetsis had already tried to manipulate him, and was absolutely prepared for the current Ghetsis to try and do the same. Ghetsis no doubt had his own hidden agenda, but he was certainly not the only one. 

‘Yes, so I should thank you for gathering these pawns, and sharing your information with me,’ Ghetsis smirked. ‘I’ll be sure to return the favour. Now, our preparations are complete! I will soon possess a legendary that combines two powers!’

‘No…!’ Nate gasped. 

‘The fusion of Kyurem and Zekrom…’ N murmured, the memories of the exact same thing happening before flying through his mind. 

‘Watch this moment closely!’ Ghetsis cried out, as he approached the trapped Zekrom, Giovanni keeping close behind him. 

‘Zekrom!’ N called.

‘Ghetsis, don’t do it!’ Nate added. He knew too well that there was no way Ghetsis would listen, but without his Pokemon and badly outnumbered, there was not much else he could do. 

‘Kyurem! Absorb Zekrom, use Absofusion!’ Ghetsis ordered, an unhinged, determined grin set upon his face. 

‘Now’s my chance,’ Giovanni quietly said, watching the scene intently. He snapped his fingers. ‘Do it.’

Mewtwo reappeared, floating in the gap between the two other legendaries, facing Kyurem down. 

‘What the -?’ Nate spluttered. N looked similarly taken aback.

‘They stopped them from fusing?’ he questioned, not entirely certain whether he believed what he was seeing. 

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Ghetsis spat, glowering at Giovanni. He slammed his cane on the ground again. ‘Giovanni!’

‘Well, you see… I too have a plan,’ Giovanni replied. ‘I know how you operate, Ghetsis. Perhaps a little too well, and the way I see it, once you have both of these legendaries under your command, your next move will be to secure more pawns to make use of. And as these Team Break members answer to me, I know that it’d be me you target next.’

Ghetsis remained silent, teeth bared. As Giovanni observed him, he could see that he had been completely right. Granted, it would not have been out of character for Ghetsis to lie, and claim he had nothing of the sort planned, but he surmised Ghetsis would only have done that if he were calmer. And the ex Plasma leader, as he was currently, looked apoplectic with rage. 

Ghetsis’ raging, hateful silence was the only answer Giovanni required.

‘So, I intend to take Kyurem and Zekrom before that can happen!’

‘How cunning,’ Ghetsis hissed. ‘But it’s too little, too late.’

More masked members of Team Break appeared, again, on Ghetsis’ cue, standing beside him, as Giovanni’s eyes widened, just for a second. 

‘What?’

‘You are not the only one who has a talent for convincing people to join you,’ Ghetsis gloated. ‘I am more than capable of that, too! A faction of Team Break is already under my command!’

Oh, shit. This was not what Giovanni had in mind. He knew exactly what Ghetsis was planning, yet the son of a bitch still out-witted him!

Despite his inner panic, the Rainbow Rocket leader’s expression continued to be a smug grin, as though it was all a game they were playing. He would be damned if he was going to let Ghetsis know that he was rattled.

‘I guess I underestimated you after all,’ he admitted. ‘In that case… Mewtwo, get them!’

‘Rise! We must defeat Giovanni!’ Ghetsis roared. 

‘...So they’ve broken their alliance,’ N mused, as more Pokemon were sent out. With the attention mostly taken off Zekrom, N felt he could breathe a little more easily. ‘...I suppose they were never actually allies in the first place… 

‘I want to help Zekrom, but there are way too many Pokemon over there…’ Nate fretted. 

‘Go, Volcarona!’ 

Another new voice entered the fray, as a familiar Volcarona appeared over N’s head, striking the Team Break Pokemon. As they were knocked out, N and Nate spun around on their heels to see the former champion, Alder Castillo, striding forward. He was staring directly at Ghetsis, his expression set into a look of grim determination, with a young redhead behind him. 

‘Alder! Silver!’ Nate greeted, a wave of relief washing through him to have some backup. 

‘I had an unpleasant feeling that something bad would happen,’ Alder stated. The sensation of foreboding had been with him ever since he learnt Ghetsis was back. He knew that N had been ambivalent about forgiving him, and having a proper father and son relationship with the man again. And Alder did not want to completely squash his hopes of that happening. He had been direct with stating that he did not trust Ghetsis, but seeing the look of utter defeat in the young boy’s eyes, Alder had to wonder just what he had missed. That maybe he had not been severe enough. Perhaps he should have explicitly told N not to trust his despicable excuse for a “father”, even for the faintest fraction of a second. ‘I’m glad we made it in time. We took care of the Team Break members at the entrance, but reinforcements are on their way right now! We need to get out of here!’

Silver, the young redhead, was not paying any attention to Alder. Nor was he even paying any attention to Ghetsis. No, his gaze was firmly on Giovanni, and his expression was one of hatred. 

‘Oh?’ Giovanni questioned, glancing over. He was uncertain how to react, so he kept the same usual smug demeanour. This boy was not his Silver, but was a Silver. And clearly things had gone the same way between him and his Giovanni, as they had in the Rainbow Rocket leader’s timeline. 

‘I have more important things to worry about right now, than him,’ Silver declared, without giving one single fuck about the fact that his voice was loud enough for Giovanni to hear. Not that Giovanni seemed bothered. He was used to it from his own Silver. ‘Come on, hurry up!’

Now freed, N turned back to the rest of the group to see Zekrom land before him.

‘I’m so glad you’re okay…’ he murmured, relief sparkling in his eyes.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ Nate urged. 

Sensing that the situation was no longer in their favour, the Team Break grunts who had followed Ghetsis began to retreat, much to his annoyance.

‘Tch… Worthless fools,’ he growled. 

‘Now that a former champion has arrived, I suppose I have no choice but to give up on Zekrom,’ Giovanni decided. For now. ‘Kyurem, on the other hand, will be mine.’

‘I warned you before…’ Ghetsis started, his voice dripping with rage, before suddenly ramping up to a scream, ‘NOT TO UNDERESTIMATE ME!’

The cane struck the ground, as Kyurem roared. Alder winced at the noise, but Giovanni seemed unbothered. A snap of his fingers later, and he was gone, along with Mewtwo. Alder glanced back, seeing N approach, and noticed how the boy looked mentally exhausted. It was no surprise, Alder guessed that N must felt like he had been put through the wringer.

Because he had been. He was about to speak up, to try and reach out to N, when Nate interrupted with another insistence that they should leave. He was right, the less time they spent in the cave, the better. Giovanni might have been gone, but there was still Ghetsis to contend with. 

N stopped before he reached Alder and Nate. And, without breathing a word, he turned his back, and strode over to his father. 

‘...What?’ Ghetsis questioned, a look of annoyed confusion on his face. N refused to clarify, but stayed by his side. 

‘What are you doing? Just leave him!’ Silver irritably told N.

‘Yes, what are you doing?’ Ghetsis agreed, clearly as baffled as his son’s friends. 

‘...I want to save Kyurem, regardless of whose Pokemon it is. Even if that means I have to help you...’ N finally answered, without looking at any of them. Part of him had to wonder what the hell he was doing, siding up with Ghetsis, after how Ghetsis had betrayed him, insulted him, and openly laughed about it. He told himself that he was not doing this for Ghetsis’ sake, or even his own.

This was for Kyurem.

‘...I won’t call you my father, Ghetsis.’ That was fine with the Plasma leader. His skin always crawled when that word left N’s mouth. Disgusting. N turned and looked at him. ‘But if you co-operate, I’ll help you get out of this!’

‘I see. Very well. That’s convenient for me,’ Ghetsis replied. No “thank you”, but of course not. N had never gotten a “please” or a “thank you” from Ghetsis in his life, and he definitely did not expect that to change now. ‘Let’s take him down, N!’

‘N and Ghetsis, standing side by side…’ Nate muttered. The idea left him unsettled. It was wrong. He brought the Pokeball with his unconscious Braviary in it up to his mouth, whispering to it, as he used a revive. ‘Just a little longer, we need to help N…’

‘Hey!’ Silver called out, as Nate and Braviary took off. 

‘It’s too late to stop them. Let’s just make sure that they have a safe escape route,’ Alder told the redhead. 

‘The plan is to hold off Mewtwo until he can’t come after you any more, alright?’ N told his father.

‘Yes,’ Ghetsis crisply agreed.

‘Well, why don’t we put it to the test?’ Giovanni questioned, as he was joined by his own Team Break grunts again, now they had recovered from the previous fight. ‘Let’s see what your little father-son team up can do!’

Nate’s Braviary, and the two other legendaries opposing Giovanni started the battle, fighting ferociously against the Rainbow Rocket leader and his underlings. It was not long until it was just the legendaries against each other, and with Mewtwo outnumbered, it was Giovanni’s team that fell. 

‘...Hmph, I suppose that does surpass my expectations,’ he reluctantly confessed. 

‘After him!’ Ghetsis then commanded. 

‘No! You remember what I said earlier, don’t you?! We’re getting out of here!’ N countered. 

‘What?’ Ghetsis hissed, angry that N spoke back to him. But he could see that this time, N was not going to be moved. ‘Fine.’

‘Too bad,’ Giovanni said to himself, as the others left. ‘This would have been so much easier had you stayed here...’ He glanced to the cave exit. ‘Go after them.’

‘Hey!’ 

Giovanni had assumed that it was just him, Mewtwo, and his underlings left. That the others had all left with Ghetsis and N. So he was surprised when he saw himself suddenly face to face with his son.

‘That’s enough. Your plan failed,’ Silver glared. ‘Let them go, or else!’ 

To Giovanni’s surprise, the Pokemon that Silver released was none other than Ho-Oh. 

When did Silver obtain a legendary of his own? Giovanni thought, as Ho-Oh flapped its wings and released a loud cry. 

‘...Change of plans,’ Giovanni decided, recalling Mewtwo. ‘We’re leaving.’

His decision confused his underlings, who had been readying themselves for another fight. 

‘B-But sir…?’ one hesitantly questioned.

‘The more people you command, the harder it is to control them. I think learning that much is enough for today,’ Giovanni replied. He tilted his head, glancing to the side at Silver. ‘Besides… I’m very pleased by what I’ve seen today.’

Silver pulled a face, and blinked. Was Giovanni complimenting him? For standing up to him? Obtaining Ho-Oh? But once the shock quickly wore off, his expression turned back to angry. He was not going to be taken in, be swayed by Giovanni’s words! This man had no idea who Silver was, if he thought a few pretty words could appease him.

It was probably a lie, anyway.

Silver headed outside the cave again, where the rest of the group - unfortunately, still including Ghetsis - were waiting for him.

‘I think they’ve stopped coming after us now,’ Silver declared, without offering any explanation as to why he had stayed behind. None of them needed to know about him challenging Giovanni. Or what Giovanni had said to him. 

‘I see. In that case…’ Alder pointedly looked back at Ghetsis.

‘You want to come after me, now? I can’t allow that to happen,’ he warned. ‘Perhaps we can come to a truce for today. What do you think, N?’

‘...I know that you haven’t changed, at all,’ N said, and Alder was relieved. He had been concerned that siding with Ghetsis to protect him might have caused N to start reconsidering, again. He wanted nothing more than for N to have a father he could be happy with, but as long as his father was Ghetsis, that was just not possible. ‘If you do anything to harm the people or Pokemon here, I will be the first in line to stop you!’

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ Ghetsis replied, tone thick with sarcasm. Clearly he did not believe N to be a big enough threat to him. ‘Then, farewell.’

‘Wait, Ghetsis!’ Nate then called. Ghetsis paused, not turning back around to face them, but instead peered over his shoulder, to see what Nate wanted. ‘I hate you. I’ll never forget what you did in Unova! But you’re still N’s father! You raised him, and spent all those years together!’

Ghetsis had no idea where Nate was going with his tangent, and neither did N. N’s childhood had been spent cooped up inside one room. A very spacious room, admittedly, but still locked away from the rest of the world, and fed only whatever information Ghetsis deemed worthy of him knowing. As much as N longed for change, he was no longer blind to the horrendous circumstances that stole his childhood. 

So why was Nate bringing it up?

‘Are you really going to say you felt nothing when the two of you were fighting side by side?!’ Nate demanded. ‘It’s not too late to change your ways! Please, at least think about it!’

Oh. N braced himself. He was certain that Ghetsis was going to scoff, laugh hysterically at such a ridiculous notion, and he knew it was going to hurt. 

‘Nate…’ N began. 

‘Ghetsis!’ Nate repeated, when he got no reply. And N’s heart sunk to his stomach, when sure enough, Ghetsis began to chuckle. At last, he turned back properly to face them, and erupted with laughter.

‘You naive fool! Our relationship is nothing more than that between a master and his tools! What happened here changes nothing!’ he barked, before turning his evil scarlet gaze onto N. ‘As long as I can keep using you, I don’t care what you call our relationship! I do whatever I please! I am not your ally, not your friend, and I am certainly not your father!’

In unison, N and Nate both tugged on the brims of their headwear. Nate in embarrassment, and upset for N, and N to try and cover his face. He was attempting to be as expressionless as he could, but the hurt shone in his eyes.

‘How dare you -!’ Silver began, readying to go into a full force rant. 

‘Despicable,’ Alder quickly interjected, unwilling to let the youngster draw too much of Ghetsis’ attention. ‘You’re the one without a heart!’

‘If that’s all,’ Ghetsis sneered, their anger and words bouncing off him. With another - but more sardonic - farewell, Ghetsis was whisked away by Kyurem, leaving them free of him at last.

‘I had a bad feeling this might happen,’ Alder sighed. ‘N, my apologies. I think I should have stopped you before you went to help him.’

‘Don’t apologise,’ N said, to Alder and Nate. ‘It was my decision. Please, don’t be sad on my behalf.’

‘...Nate, are you crying again?’ Silver questioned. He looked embarrassed.

‘You truly have a kind heart,’ N gently told Nate, ‘one that resonates with others. You got angry for the people of Unova, you yelled at Ghetsis for me… and now, you’re even crying for me...’

‘I can’t help it! It’s just all so messed up!’ Nate wept. ‘You’re not asking for anything special! You just want a normal relationship with the man you call your father! It’s not asking for much! Why can’t you have that too?!’

‘Nate… It’s okay.’ It was a lie, but a lie told for N’s own sake as well as Nate’s. Right now, he felt like being strong for his friend distracted him from his own pain. ‘I may not have a father, but I have good friends like you.’

‘N…’ Nate sniffled.

‘Yeah, you can survive without a father,’ Silver chimed in, and N nodded in agreement.

I’m blessed to be surrounded by such kind people and Pokemon. That’s enough for me. I suppose… a father figure was just never meant to be.

...But it was nice to hope for it.

[vergess]

36-40, the poem is wild geese by mary oliver (which isnt exactly obscure but its gotten me through a lot so)

36. they say to write what you know. setting aside, for a moment, the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you know?

Not much LMAO

I know more queer theory than is strictly reasonable or at all useful, and that is about the end of that.

Well, no, I suppose I also know how to do research, which is a skill that is not nearly as common as people insist on claiming. But it's not as if writing about "doing research" is terribly fun. I mean, I tried it once, and it went pretty poorly honestly.

37. if you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

God help me. Nothing good, I'm sure. That I was an intensely angry person who was weirdly obsessed with abusive romance?

38. what is something about your writing process YOU think is really weird? if you are comfortable, please share. if you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

The number 1 first step in the writing process is to lay down and go to sleep, and as you are falling asleep, tell yourself what you want to happen as if it were a bedtime story, and then when you wake up, try to remember whatever details you can, and use them to draft your outline.

Also cats say that we're massive and made of spiders, which stands in contrast to dogs who say that we're loud and made of mouths.

39. what keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

Literally nothing. When I feel like giving up, I give up.

It's okay to stop doing things.

As the meme goes: Just Walk Out!! Real Winner Quit!!

I can always come back to it if I want to, later. There's no point in making myself sick over it.

40. please share a poem with me, i need it.

Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver.

That's a much nicer and more artistically engaging way of saying "real winners quit," TBQH.

In exchange, I will admit to having written terrible poetry in middle school, including a 7-part series of "themed" poems centered formatted as "[color]-tainted [positive emotion]." Including but not limited to the truly outstandingly cringey titles "Green-tainted Love" and "Crimson-tainted Innocence."

They are exactly as clumsy as you might be thinking. In fact, they're worse. Most of them don't even have a consistent meter, let alone something as advanced as rhyming, or imagery.

But damned if they weren't valuable stepping stones to creating things I actually enjoy reading nowadays, lol

[40 Writer Questions meme]

[mothra-obeyme]

Demon brothers with a gn!MC with a toxic mother

!Trigger Warning!

These headcanons contain toxic behavior and if you get triggered easily or have a toxic friend or family member you should be prepared that this may trigger something. If you have a toxic friend leave them and if you have a toxic family member tell it someone who can help. There are also an eating disorder and a panic attack mentioned. I never had an eating disorder before so i would be glad if you told me when i wrote something wrong about it.

Writing this is like therapy for my own problems. If i made a mistake about writing for a gender neutral reader please tell me and i will correct it as soon as i can

- You never really told him or any of his brothers about your toxic relationship with your mother thinking that they wouldn’t really care

- At dinner when one of them asked about your relationship with your parents you told them that it could be better

- All the bad feelings that you managed to push away suddenly came back again which let to you having a nightmare

- Because you were not able to go back to sleep you decided to wander around the hallways

- But when suddenly a stern and slightly angry voice behind you asked what you were doing up at this hour you yelped and quickly turned around

- After explaining to Lucifer that you had a nightmare and couldn’t go back to sleep anymore he asked you about the nightmare

- Knowing you wouldn’t get out of this without telling him you explained your bad relationship with your mother which lead to you having the nightmare

- Thinking that you don’t trust him he asked why you didn’t tell him before

- You told him that you thought hey wouldn’t care and that you were scared that they would make fun of you because of worrying about such a small thing

- He felt hurt because you thought that he would react so badly

- Giving a little lecture about how you should tell him when you felt unwell he noticed that that only made your mood worsen

- Putting his pride aside for a second he wrapped his arms around your body and told you that everything’s going to be alright

- He walked you back to your room to make sure you got there safely

- The next day he told Diavolo about it trying to find a way of making sure you’re safe

- Diavolo suggested you staying here because you would be saver with him and his brothers

- When Lucifer told you the news you jumped in his arms happily and hold him tight which made him blush a very dark shade of red ( he was glad that your head was in his his chest so you wouldn’t see his face

- He found out about it when you guys were studding together in your room when your mom called

- The shocked face you made didn’t go unnoticed by him as well as your shaking hands when you reached out to your phone

- At first when you got into the Devildom you were happy that you were allowed to keep your phone

- They let you keep it so that you could keep in touch with your family and friends back in the human world

-But right now you wish that they would’ve just took it away from you

- When you picked up your phone you were immediately greeted by the loud voice of your mother telling you how disappointed she was in you for not calling her in the last few days

- With a blurry vision you tried to say something despite your voice cracking but you didn’t got the chance to say anything because she interrupted you telling you how much of a crybaby you are and that you can’t to anything by yourself

- Because of his demon senses Mammon was able to hear everything which made him angrily grab the phone away from you putting it to his ear

- “Shut the fuck up! This human is the best person i have ever met and if you can’t see that then you are stupid! So shut up or i will come to your house and eat you!”

- After he hung up he looked at you and saw your shocked and slightly scared vision which made him immediately wrap his around you

- When he noticed the tears spilling from your eyes and you saying that she is definitely going to kill you this time he comforted you by saying that he will make sure nobody hurts you, that you are safe with him and that nobody is going to kill you

- The rest of the day was spent with you two cuddling

- Yes he may be stupid sometimes but he knows how it is to get insulted by your own family

- The next day he told Lucifer about it who discussed the matter with Diavolo and Barbatos

- They went to the human world to report to the police about your abusive mother which lead to her getting arrested

- He found out about it when you two were playing a video game with a toxic person in his room

- “Damn, this dude is almost as toxic as my mother.” You quietly said to yourself thinking that he was too focused on the game to hear you

- But unfortunately he heard you and sat there not focusing on the game and thinking about what you just said

- After he took in the information he asked you if your mom did bad stuff to you back in the human world

- You told him that your mom always talked shit about you behind your back and most of the time ignored you making you having to learn how to cook and clean alone

- He was genuinely concerned and worried about you saying that when you need someone to talk to or get rid of your mom he would gladly

- You told him that you already moved out as soon as possible and now moved a few states away from your old home

- After that he would always make sure that you knew he was there to talk or if you wanted to get away from the bad thoughts that you could come to his room and you would watch anime together

!Extra Trigger Warning!

You have a panic attack in this one

- Because he also reads books about the human world he rather quickly picked up about the sign of your mothers abusive behavior: the jumpiness, the self-hate and you never really saying anything good about your mom

- He also research a bit and asked few witches which told him that he was right about your mother being abusive

- At first he decided against asking you about it thinking that you would come to him when you were ready but over time he got impatient

- So when the two of you were reading books in the library he asked why you were so jumpy all the time

- You told him that you lived in a house full of demons all by yourself and that being jumpy is normal in that situation

- He got slightly angry seeing straight that it was a lie and asked you why you think so badly of yourself

- Kinda scared why he would ask that you told him that you didn’t know

- “MC, i know about what your mother does to you. You don’t have to lie to me.”

-Tears started to overflow your eyes thinking back about how your mother treats you in the human world

- Streams of tears spilled from your eyes, your breathing quickened and your pulse raised quickly

- Satan of course noticed that put a hand on your shoulder to ask if he was allowed to touch you and when he saw you nod he wrapped his arms around you

- He told you to try to match your breathing with his

- When you calmed down he told you that you were going to be alright and that he would help you

!Extra trigger warning!

You sort of have an eating disorder in this one

- Beel was always a little worried about how much leftovers were on the plate you pushed over to him when you and the brothers ate together

- Yes you may be smaller than him but that doesn’t look like a healthy amount to eat

- Over the time he also noticed how you weren’t really comfortable with your body, how you would wear baggy clothes and when getting yourself something to eat that you would look how much calories it has

- When the two of you got into a relationship he was even more worried seeing how you still be uncomfortable showing your body to him

- When he found you in your room in front of a mirror crying looking at your body and only wearing basketball shorts and a bra/shirtless he was extremely worried

- He was shocked seeing how skinny you were, turned your body around to him and cupped your cheeks with his hands

- He asked you what’s wrong which even made more tears spill from your eyes which made him wrap his arms around you and hug you close

- When you calmed down you told him about how your mother always told you how fat and ugly you were and telling that no one will love you when you look like that

- He was shocked how can someone tell his wonderful human that no one will ever love them

- He told you how beautiful you looked for him and that all she was saying were lies and spoiled you with compliments

- After that he would help you get more comfortable with your body always telling you how good you look and working out with him ( Private gym to make you feel better )

- He would help you trying to eat a little bit more everyday and always cooking things you like

- He found out about it when he slept in your room one night because he annoyed you until you said he can sleep in your room

- Waking up he heard you shuffling around in your bed and your heavy breathing

- When he stood up he saw a pained expression on your face and streams of tears on your cheeks

- Hesitating he decided to put a hand on your shoulder to wake you up

- "Hey MC wake up human."

- You ripped open your eyes and quickly sat up trying to calm down

- He immediately knew that you had a nightmare because he also has nightmares sometimes and told you that it was all just a dream and that no one is going to hurt you

- When you calmed down you told him that you want to cuddle because you needed affection

- He complained about how stupid humans are sometimes but you could hear in his voice that he didn't mean it

- He sat himself behind you leaning against the headboard, put his legs on either sides of you and wrapped his arme around your body

- At first you tensed up still a little shocked from your nightmare

- "Stupid human everythings going to be alright no one will hurt you."

- You relaxed hearing his low voice comforting you

- "So what was the nightmare about?"

- You decided to tell him about how your mother would always tell you how worthless you were while beating and smacking you and that you often had nightmares about it

- He was shocked hearing that the stupid homo sapien mother of his favorite human does something like that

- "If she does anyhting like that ever again you will summon me with our pact and i will rip her to shreds."

- "Belphie! She is still my mother and that's illegal you can't do that!"

- "I can do everything i want when it involves protecting you."

- Let's just say the next time your mother said anything bad about you that she wasn't going to do it again

You are trans (Female to Male/Nonbinary) in this just so you know i thought that it would work better like that and the brothers know it

- He found out about it when you two were hanging out him his room

- He let you do his makeup when he noticed how good you were doing that despite not wearing any yourself

- When he asked you where you learned to do makeup like that you stopped your movements and tensed up for a second which didn't go unnoticed by Asmo

- You told him that your mother taught you how to do makeup since you were 10, that she was very stubborn with her methods and that she always made you wear dresses because she wanted you to be a model

- Confused he said that he thought children shouldn't wear makeup at such a young age and shouldn't be forced to do something like that

- You told him that your transphobic mother always said that you have to wear makeup because you are a girl and will stay one

- "Yeah but i got over it. It's okay now."

- Grabbing your wrists to stop you from continuing doing his makeup he looked you kinda shocked in the eyes

- "No that's not okay how could she say something like that. You are beautiful how you are no matter if you wear makeup or not."

- He pulled you against him to hug you and you slowly wrapped your arms around him to return the hug

- After that he always made sure to make you feel beautiful and more comfortable with your body

- Everytime an other demon would say some transphobic shit to you he would nearly beat the guy to death

- You had to hold him back and call Lucifer to help you multiple times to not let him do something bad

Masterlist

[ohworm-writes]

Don't know if ur still taking requests but maybe something w/ Toshinori Yagi  and a native Canadian s/o whose sad and grieving for the 215 children that were found at kamloops residential school. I've been so sad thinking about all those poor babies who never made it home to their seghąxole (family/clan) as a native/aboriginal i grew up listening to my setsuné's (grandma) and ęnę's (mother) stories about what the nuns and priests did to them and their siblings, and it's heartbreaking just imagining the horrors those babies must've faced b4 their deaths. I think it's important to not forget what happened at these horrible places and what those monsters did to children and I don't know what else to do but to have people learn about this in whatever way I can cuz it's not right what happened and continues to happen to my people. Sorry if this is something you aren't comfortable with writing.

BNHA/MHA: Toshinori Yagi Grief Headcanons

bnha/mha masterlist

‼ Canadian!S/o who is grieving over the Kamloops Residential School Murders ‼

Featuring: Toshinori Yagi

Warnings: murder, residential schools, abuse, grief, death, trauma (implied)

a/n - hello dear, i want to say a few things before i get into these headcanons. 

one, i apologize this took awhile for me to write. it may not have taken me a while to write as my other requests, but i was conflicted on how i felt. i didn’t know if it was okay for me to write, seeing as i am not a Canadian resident. but, it still does affect me. 

two, this was shorter than i would have wanted. i wanted to talk more about it, but i didn’t know how exactly, if that makes sense? 

third, if i get anything wrong in this, let me know immediately. i will take it down and edit. i am not trying to misinform about this in any way. also, if you wish for me to add anything, let me know. i don’t have a problem with it. 

fourth, to my other readers, please please do your own research about this situation. this is serious and needs to be treated as so. children, as young as 3, have died due to these residential schools. 

i hope you all stay safe, and if you can, enjoy.

content below the cut!

when he came home to you sobbing, he knew something was wrong

he came over to you, crouching down and asking if it was okay to touch you

and what was wrong

when you told him about the news of the 215 children found dead, he froze completely

as a hero, he always wanted to save people

he wanted to protect people

especially children

knowing that 215 of them were murdered broke him

he wasn’t from Canada, obviously, but it felt like a personal attack towards him

you explained to him everything about it, as horrifying as it is to recall

the history behind the actions of Residential Schools

how long it had been since they closed

how they, just now, were finding these bodies

he was conflicted in his own way

angry, devastated, all of his emotions came to him all the sudden

he sat with you in his arms, hearing you talk about this

he knew how personally this had affected you

you spoke with venom about the Prime Minister when he came up

he understood completely

you started to tell him about your own family’s stories

it continued to break him

if you didn’t think he was crying before, he was full-on sobbing now

the abuse that these children received, the murders, everything made him feel helpless

how could he call himself a hero if things like this had happened?

how had he not known about this?

while trying to combat his own grief, he did whatever he could to comfort you

whether it be rants, stories, getting you food, or simply staying by your side

he would do it all

he tried to take your mind off of it, but that wouldn’t exactly be possible

this would always remain a memory in your mind

it would always hurt

this wasn’t something you could sweep under the rug

he knew that

and neither of you intended to

it didn’t matter if he was still the #1 hero in Japan or not

this affected you

this affected the world

this affected him

and he would make damn sure everyone else knew about this horrors

[mistabullets]

Twilight (Kinktober Day #5 - Corruption)

Characters: Takuto Maruki x Reader

Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: You remind Maruki too much of someone.

Content Warning: n/s/f/w, afab reader, fem pronouns, corruption, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, teacher/student relations, doctor/patient relations, angst, dubcon/noncon cw, mind manipulation/alteration cause of maruki’s persona, older man/younger woman, dubious ethics, maruki calls you by the wrong name, p5r spoilers

Note: I went to town on this. I’ve been wanting to write something with Maruki forever and finally got the inspiration I needed

It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.

It had started out simple - his relationship with you started out strictly professional. You were one of the seniors who had endured Kamoshida’s abuse, although not to the extent some other students had. You still held on to your high hopes and ambitions despite the pressure of exams weighing you down occasionally. Sessions with Maruki-sensei were relaxing. Unlike your parents and teachers, he listened . He didn’t brush off your complaints and invalidate them, he wouldn’t go off on tirades about how you needed to do better. He truly listened - it made you happy to be heard for once, even if you felt your problems were infinitesimal compared to your peers.

You frequented the nurse’s office. While you had friends who were probably better company than the school’s therapist, you found comfort in his words. You never grew bored or tired of his little lectures - he was researching something about cognition and how to mend the heart of its emotional labors. While he threw in complex words you couldn’t quite grasp, you tried your best to follow along and ask questions if you couldn’t wrap your head around a certain concept. And while Maruki was happy to grant you little tidbits of his knowledge, there was something gnawing at him, something he knew he shouldn’t admit.

Your mannerisms and speech patterns, the conversations you two shared, and your upbeat and quirky personality reminded him of Rumi. Every time your eyes glued on him, inquisitive and attentive, he was reminded of when Rumi would pause her studies, just to listen to him babble about two dots he was able to connect. Then he would recall her touch - lingering kisses, careful caresses, the act of becoming one, the noises that spilled from her lips, the heat that she would engulf him in—

But lately, he would visualize your face; contorted in pleasure, pleading with him oh-so-sweetly, and brows knitted as he speared your virginal walls.

However, he was the adult here. He knew it was wrong and he kept those thoughts locked away from his students. For him to fantasize about such things with a student more than a decade younger was unprofessional. For him to lock the doors after you left and pump his cock fervently to the thought of you was disgusting on his behalf. He tried to bury those carnal desires deep within - and he masked them for quite some time, believing he could simply get over it. His heart still belonged to Rumi and no one could replace her. Certainly, he wouldn’t throw that all away for some replacement, projecting her onto you, right?

But it all came to ahead.

The school was out for the day; most students had already gone home for the evening. Just when he was finished organizing paperwork, he heard his office door slam opened and closed. He glanced up, ready to offer whoever came in through his door some snacks and juice. But he was greeted to the sight of you, tears cascading down your puffy eyes. His chest tightened - he hated to see his students cry… but he didn’t want to see you like this. Usually, he thought of you as resilient and independent but he supposed you needed a shoulder to cry on, every once and awhile.

“Oh my, what’s the matter, L/N?”

He offered you a seat on the couch and sat beside you, offering a box of apple juice. You thanked him in a choked whisper, trying your best to collect yourself. Thank god Maruki had the patience of a saint, giving you ample time to compose yourself and reassuring you it’s okay every time you hiccuped a weak sorry .

You sniffled, “I-I don’t even know where to begin…”

“Take your time,” the counselor reassured.

A moment of silence. The clock ticked. You let out a shaky sigh and swallowed harshly, “T-This is all confidential, right?”

Maruki hesitated for a moment but nodded, “Yes. What happens in this room, stays in this room.”

“Okay… well, t-this is embarrassing. But I trust you the most right now,” you swallowed down your pride, willing the courage, “There’s… this student. We’ve been talking and we, uh… did some things.”

He raised his eyebrows when you paused, hearing you take in a deep and uneven breath. He could hear how broken your pride was - without considering it, he placed a hand on your upper back, rubbing it soothingly, reminding you to go at your own pace. It was welcomed. “Go ahead.”

“I… I really thought he liked me b-but…”

“He broke your heart, huh?”

You nodded, “I… I can’t go back in time. If I would have known… h-how cruel he is… M-Maruki-sensei, what should I do? My heart feels so heavy…” you buried your head into his chest, soaking his dress shirt with fat tear droplets. Awkwardly, he held you there, contemplating how he should properly respond to this situation. He furrowed his brows - he was a damn therapist and couldn’t even give you any advice on the matter. Hearing your cries reminded him too much of Rumi’s - the harrowing tears unstoppable as she was reminded of her trauma. He wanted to make them stop, make them disappear somehow. Life was so unjust, he pondered, forcing you to deal with inevitable heartbreak which would some way or another, define you. It was the seed of mistrust, the loss of innocence, and the beginning of life’s hardships.

He pulled you into his embrace, muffling your pathetic wails into his chest. Maruki noticed a faint throbbing in his head, a distant voice telling him, you can save her, let me help… he clung to that voice, asking himself how he could help, how he could be useful .

And then a flicker of kaleidoscope flooded the peripheral of his vision.

There was a ringing.

And your tears ceased.

“M-Maruki-sensei…”

You forgot why you were crying.

“L-L/N? Are you feeling any better now?”

Oh, right? You confessed your feelings.

“S-Sensei… I…!”

You lifted yourself away from the shirt you just soaked with your tears. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips desperately against his; you tasted coffee from his mouth and wanted more.

Maruki was registering what was occurring - a student was kissing him and he needed to put an end to it, he reasoned. However, before he could push you away, a hand reached down for his crotch. You pulled away from the intoxicating kiss, brain fried with overwhelming love for the man before you. “Takuto… a-are you hard?”

And for a moment, he was reminded of his first time with Rumi - her sweet voice whispering his name, worried about pushing him over the edge, “Takuto…”

Takuto…

“Takuto?”

And he snapped. He didn’t care anymore if this was wrong. He just needed you . He gained control and pushed you back into the couch, pouncing you like an animal. Experienced lips found yours and his tongue easily slipped into your mouth when you let out a gasp. He feverishly rubbed his clothed erection against your soft thigh as his kiss deepened and you were already moaning against his mouth. He needed you out of your uniform; he needed to be out of his clothes. God, he needed you so bad, he wanted you—

“A-Ah, please slow down, t-this is my first time.”

Oh right, you never specified if you were still a virgin or not. “S-Sorry…! Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good, L/N… I mean, Y/N. Just let me take the lead.”

You nodded and assumed kissing, albeit much more calculated and less desperate. Maruki guided you as he promised. He stripped you of your pesky uniform, discarding them to the floor of his office. All that remained on your body were your simple bra and simple underwear which did not match. Maruki was addicted to the little noises you made under his kisses - you whimpered and sighed his name just like her . He ghosted his lips on the ample flesh of your breast and the experienced hand went unclip your bra, exposing the perky buds. His eager lips suckled and nipped each nipple, his slender hands fondled each mound with gentle calculation. He admired the quick rise and fall of your chest and your heavy pants; he wondered what kind of noises he could draw if he touched you down there. Would it be like Rumi’s?

“D-Do you like this, sensei?” you asked curiously, nervously spreading your legs apart as the older man settled in between them, groaning at the maiden heat of your core. He rutted against your clothed sex, relishing in the mewls you released and wishing he would strip off your panties already. God, you were particularly dripping - he couldn’t tell if it was your essence or his pre-cum that sullied the front of his trousers. And he didn’t care either.

“You’re doing so wonderfully, Y/N. You’re already so wet, my god… I’m going to take off your panties.”

“O-Okay…” and you helped him wiggle out of your underwear. He threw them to the floor, on the pile with the rest of your abandoned attire. While you were exposing yourself to him, you didn’t feel nervous - you trusted Maruki to handle you with care. The counselor gulped when you spread your legs for him, showing off your pretty pink pussy. He steadied his breathing and sighed, nestling him and observing it. Hesitantly, he brought a finger to collect your slick, rubbing the slit up-and-down. It was maddening, overwhelming all of your senses as he experimentally touched and observed your womanhood like it was some sort of specimen. Only when you bucked your hips against his hand did Maruki realize he was making you impatient. He couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness, “Patience, I need to prepare you so you can feel good.”

It was fucked up - how he was so willing to discard his ethics just to be able to relive the feeling of being with her; to fill the void in his heart since her memories were wiped clean. But wouldn’t it be more fucked up to deny your feelings? Sure, you may be confused, but… wouldn’t fall deeper into despair if he rejected you? Not only would you have to suffer through one heartbreak but two. If this helped relieve the stress of that one boy, so be it. If he could help you in the slightest, even if it means tossing morals and logic out the window, so be it. He’ll make sure you’re happy too .

After exploring every inch of your core, his index finger aligned with your entrance and pushed. Oh, did it burn but it was pleasant to have him inside. Maruki leaned down to pepper kisses on your throat and jaw, easing you into the thickness of his finger. When he buried it to the knuckle, he inserted his middle finger and sunk that into your tight heat. You hissed and the older man apologized, reassuring you that it would feel good here soon. You believed him and once you stopped trembling, the discomfort molding into a strange sensation, you told him you were ready. With careful precision, he pumped his digits inside of you slowly - he curiously scissored the canal, preparing you to take something bigger than his fingers.

When he curled his finger against a particular area of your wall, you jolted and cried out. It was just like Rumi’s first reaction, “Ah… I found your g-spot. Good, good… I’m going to go faster and touch that again. You may feel funny at first but I promise, it feels wonderful.”

Before you could question Maruki what he was about to do, you wailed as electricity shot throughout your synapses. You writhed and trembled, your head was flooding and your stomach was taut with a strange feeling. However, you couldn’t ask what this feeling was -  not when the counselor kept assaulting your g-spot, particularly finger fucking and rendering you a whining mess. Your hands found purchase in the cushion of the couch, tensing when you felt your pussy throb around Maruki’s fingers. You called out his name and he leaned down to silence your cries with his lips - the faculty should be long gone now but he wanted to be safe. You continued moaning into his mouth - then the strange coil in your stomach exploded and you arched your back, wailing and crying. He continued his ministrations, easing you down from your climax.

“T-Takuto… I-I feel so warm…” you panted, once you came down from your high.

“You just orgasmed. It was beautiful, Y/N,” he said.

“I-I’m glad…” you sighed, your body slumping against the couch. As you were washing up to the shore of your post-climax, you heard the rustling of belts and zippers. You glanced down to see the hard erection of your therapist, the pink head glistening with some fluid of sorts. Trepidation overrode your tranquility.

After seeing you come undone with just his fingers alone, he wanted to see you come undone with just his cock. Your reaction reminded him of her too, when she first offered to blow him. Her eyes had widened in surprise, not believing his cock could have this much girth to it. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought you were her reincarnation. Not hesitating a moment longer, he reached for his pocket to tear open a package of condom (better safe than sorry). He rolled the latex over his length before spreading you open to rub himself with your juices, coating himself with plenty. He wished he had a bottle of lube, just to make sure you were prepared but you were particularly dripping on the couch. You watched nervously, chewing your bottom lips as the head of his cock aligned with your entrance.

Maruki had his manners though. He gave a chaste kiss, littering more to your neck and collarbone before placing his forehead against yours. A hand reached to hold yours. Your free hand went to hold on to the back of his shoulder as he gave another kiss. “This may hurt… just relax, breathe in and out, and tell me when you’re ready, okay? … Are you sure about this?”

You nodded, giving him a demure smile as you took a gulp of air, preparing for the intrusion.

And he pushed in his bulbous head inside and you whimpered pitifully. You squeezed his hand until your knuckles turned white. Carefully, he pushed further in and knocked the wind out of you - you cried out and he paused, whispering sweet nothings and apologies. Once you were calm, he continued, and finally, his heavy balls rested against you. “Good girl, now just tell me when you move… on your cue,” he praised, leaving more ghost kisses on your vulnerable skin. You shuddered, adjusting to the painful thickness impaling your insides. However, the pain was quick to fade to only mild discomfort - it was bearable now.

“T-Takuto, nngh… y-you can move now.”

He smiled gently and carefully moved out before slowly thrusting back in. His rhythm was slow and tactful, giving you time to adjust to the feeling of sex. The initial discomfort swirled and spiraled into intense pleasure. When you moaned for more, you received more. Maruki picked up the pace - and his kisses became harsher. His head was buried in the crook of your neck and he nipped the side of it, leaving behind a red-purple bruise. That made your nerves sing and made you mewl, “T-Takutooooo~ Go harder, go faster, p-please…!”

Groaning, the older man readjusted your legs, pressing them against your shoulders so he could fuck your sweet pussy even deeper. You moaned, back arching as Maruki started to pound your oversensitive cunt. He was impossibly deep, you swear you were going to break apart on his thick cock. You continued crying and singing how good he felt, how happy you were that he was your first, and how you were wanted more. Your thighs smacked together, his balls hitting your ass deliciously, and his groin swiveled against your needy clit. His big cock was wrecking your insides and rearranging your guts, and his pace was growing desperate. He would ram the entirety of his length deep inside until the tip kissed your womb before switching it up and jackhammering into your tight walls with abandon. It made your toes curl, made you dig your fingernails into the meat of Maruki’s shoulder, and god, were you about to orgasm again?

Yes, you’re cumming again, Maruki thought as he panted against your sweat-slicked skin, relishing in your virginal tightness. He released your hand to quickly rub your swollen clit - he rubbed and rubbed ferocious circles, groaning when your pussy gripped onto his cock like a vice. Losing himself to your unbearably warm cunt, he began singing a name.

“Rumi, Rumi, Rumi…! I love you…! I’m gonna cum…!”

But rather than question the name that didn’t belong to you, you held him closer, telling him you’re going to follow him over the peak. “T-Takuto, I-I love you…!”

And the two of you exploded. He spilled himself inside while you milked his cock for more.

And while he was crying out someone else’s name like a mantra, you were praising him, seemingly not minding this. Once he finished spending the last of his seed inside of you, he collapsed on top of you. He was exhausted and didn’t seem to realize he was murmuring that stranger’s name again in your ear. Instead of shrinking into the couch out of hurt, you clung to him, peppering kisses to the side of his neck.

“I love you, R̼̗̗̹̻̄ͭͦ͌͜u̶͙̱͌ͩm̺̠͉̥͖͖ͯ͢i̖͕͚͗̽̓…”

"                    Y/N…"

You smiled. You loved how your name left his lips.

“I love you too, Takuto…”

You glanced out toward the window.

It's twilight now.

[venicebixch]

🚨TW: mentions of r4pe / SA, exploitation, misogyny, pedo, if any of these things make u uncomfortable please skip this post🚨

Same anon. . sw wil never be ethical i was criticizing the indrusty not the SWers , the industry should be demonised, it’s harmful not to mention how it encourages violence and S/A aswell as abusive behaviour towards women. . The existsince of 🌽 itself IS exploitation of women. Period. It was invented on the basis of misogyny and exploitation of women and their bodies and LMFAOOOOO DID U SAY PORNHUB IS HAS ETHICAL CONTENT???? 🤣🤣 If that was the case they would take down the “BARELY LEGAL TEEN!!!!!!!!” category giving pedos outlets theres many more steps to come (which will never actually come cause they are making money) . u saying all jobs are technically also unethical bc they are all driven by money. and mentioning all those jobs like nba player, or people who work in factory’s that are exposed to harmful chrmicals. do u have any critical thinking at all?? that’s wage labor for skilled trades, services, etc. A woman’s body being used/violated for sex with men is not the same thing. but maybe ur just weird and think paying someone to have sex with u even tho theres no way to verify their consent is totally fine. Sooo What’s ur price for consent? and you know imma say something in pretty much laymans terms to help u understand what I mean. There’s much more depth and reasons but heres why I believe no 🌽 is ethical. even the so called ethical ones u think of. The very act of paying for it, being paid for it, creates a coercive and imbalanced power dynamic. They also cannot ever revoke consent once it’s up. The simple fact that there is still no way to prove or confirm that it is ethical. Further, you can’t buy consent. It must be freely given. Consent SHOULD be - freely given, and be able to be revoked at any time no matter what. Neither of these conditions can be met for ANY form of “corn”. be mindful of how addictions manifest and how harmful it is for the brain, i love ur writings and ur very talented and this isn’t meant to come off as me hating u. I used to think that 🌽 was fine until I ruined my sleep schedule for weeks researching how terrible SW is and scarring myself with pstar testimonies, maybe it’s cause I’ve never interacted with p*rn but to me , why would you take that risk knowing u could have watched someone be r***ed yk?.

alright you’re clearly mad and i’m done with the conversation. i’m literally just here to vibe and simp for vinnie. i’m a damn vinnie hacker fanfic writer on here, that’s all. i’m not tryna contemplate consent and misogyny or critique the societal norms for women, i do enough of that in my uni classes. if you don’t think i know PLENTY about these issues, i do. i promise. i’m not a fucking idiot. i did debate club for years, i’m well versed on a lot of issues and have strong opinions on them. nonetheless, i’m literally just here to chill and write. i’m so damn tired of anons starting shit like this. if you have a problem with what i post and say, leave. it’s quite literally that simple and some of y’all are beyond insufferable on here. strangers on tumblr are not a medium for you to take out your anger toward society on. go argue with a mf on tiktok or twitter or something cause i’m not the one lol

i have my own opinions and you have your own opinions, and that’s that. you’re not gonna convince me all sex work is wrong because it isn’t. see my last post because it seems to be going over your head when i say there’s ETHICAL and NONETHICAL sex work, period. and you keep bringing up the clearly nonethical side and using it to make your point about sex work as a whole.

i do not have the energy to deal with anons like this anymore, i could write books explaining my perspective and it’s not gonna matter because we both have our own beliefs. i’m this 👌🏻 close to just blocking people who start this shit with me. chill tf out.

[natasha-romanoff-deserved-better]

Clintasha Advent 2020 

Day two - Music 

(small trigger warning for brief mentions of red room abuse.) 

.

At first, Clint thinks Natasha just really, really likes music.

She is constantly listening to it- through the Bluetooth speakers she had bought for every safe house and apartment she had, through her laptop as she types away while doing research, through her headphones plugged into her cellphone. He even discovers she keeps a second pair of headphones in her pocket “just in case” the first pair dies or is somehow broken.

It doesn’t seem to matter what type of music, either. Her favorite seems to be rock, but he’s heard her playing everything from rock to country to EDM. Once he even caught her listening to the full soundtrack of Hamilton.  

He’s teased her about it several times since noticing it- poking at her and asking if she is making her own life soundtrack. But she’s never actually said much about the habit, usually just rolling her eyes or maybe flicking him off on particularly feisty days.

Sometimes it was annoying to constantly have her playing something, but it was easy enough to tune out and ignore. Usually.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Their mission had been hard and grueling, eleven days spent in the sweltering desert of Africa only to discover the intel had been bad at the last minute after engaging the leaders of the trafficking ring. There had been a casualty- an innocent bystander who had happened to wonder into the wrong place at the wrong place.

They’re sitting in the tiny room SHEILD had directed them to wait in while awaiting extraction. It’s nothing special- a small mattress on the floor tucked into a corner with some blankets thrown on, a Bunsen burner in the other corner, and a bathroom so small it might as well have been a coffin. All Clint wants to do is drift into thoughtless sleep, but Natasha has her headphones in, and she is blasting the music in them so loudly that she might as well have been playing it out loud on full volume.

He tosses a sock at her, hitting her square in the head from where she is sprawled out on the floor while writing a report. She glances up at him, an eyebrow raised in question.

“MUSIC TURN DOWN PLEASE” he signs at her. Using his voice would be useless right now.

She stares at him for a second, and then signs a simple “no” as she goes back to her writing.

Clint is slightly taken back at first. Sure, Natasha often ignores him on things, but he didn’t expect a struggle over some songs. But fine.

He pushes himself up from the mattress, leans in closer to his partner and yanks her headphones out of her ears. She makes a grab at them, but his reflexes are faster and he snaps away his hand, the headphone wire still attached to the phone and dragging it away from her.

“What the fuck, Clint?”

“Tasha, please. I just need some quiet for a couple of hours, okay?”

“Give them back.” She growls, eyes fixated on his hand where he is wrapping the cord around the phone.

“I will in a bit. But you need to get some sleep as well. You haven’t slept since-“

“I don’t care! What I need is my music back.”

Clint’s brows furrow at her voice, the slight panic creeping in and the faint hint of desperation in the word need. That’s weird. She had never referred to the constant music as a need before.

“You don’t need it,”

Natasha swipes at him for her phone, but he catches her wrist and holds her still, not allowing her to pull away from him. “Yes, I do.” She says, breath hitching. “You have no fucking idea.”

“You’re right, I don’t. So tell me.”

Natasha struggles slightly in his grip for another second, before giving in to the exhaustion and heat and slumping against the wall, head dropping into her hands. “It never stops.” She moves a hand up to grip at some of her hair. “I can always hear them. My trainer’s voice every time I do something wrong telling me how failure is unacceptable. My ballet teachers voices constantly critiquing my body and my form and how im holding myself. The screaming of the girls when punishments were happening. Ivan telling me how special”- she spits the word- “I am every time I make a kill. They’re always there, I don’t know how to make them stop.”

She looks up at him, making eye contact as the moisture in hers threatens to overflow. “And I can’t stop thinking how I betrayed my country. How many innocent people I’ve killed. How many lives I’ve destroyed and didn’t even care.”

“The thoughts never fucking stop and the only thing that works is drowning them out and I can’t do that if you won’t give me my phone.” There’s a slight hiccup in her voice, something Clint has never heard from her before. His chest aches as he listens to her and he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close into his side.

“Focus on me instead.”

“What?” She stares up at him as if he’s insane.

“Focus on me instead. The texture of my clothes, if they’re soft or rough or itchy. My scent, which is probably not the greatest, sorry about that- remind me to pack extra deodorant the next time they send us to a damn desert- or trace the scars on my arms some. Hey, and my voice. Here, listen.”

He holds her close and sets off on a tangent about anything and everything he can think off. He tells her all about the childhood dog they had had, the silly pranks he and his brother would play on each other, fun stories from his circus days. Eventually, when he runs out of stories to tell, he begins giving random opinions no one asked for. “Fuckin ping pong,” He snorts. “Who the hell came up with that name? They really couldn’t think of anything better than ping pong? Is that name racist? It feels like it might be a bit racist.”

He keeps talking and talking, even as Natasha’s breathe begins to even out and her body finally gives away to sleep against him. Some of the first silent moments between them since he had brought her to SHIELD so many months ago.