#the canon continuity is impossible to plot out

[vmures]

I love Teen Wolf and the creativity of the fandom. But the showrunners and writers did the series no favors. The continuity is among the worst of any show I've ever seen. How old are the characters? Depends on which episode you go from. What are the characters motivations and drives? Who are the villains and who are the heroes? We don't actually know, because the show changes its mind about that constantly. It's such a hot mess that I'm never surprised that can gather ten fans and ask their opinion on a scene or episode and get ten very different takes all with specific evidence to support their claims.

My personal take is that because the show is a hot mess it makes for a rich sandbox to play in. And I enjoy that. Find people who have similar takes and enjoyment and cultivate those friendships and block anyone who tries to police your enjoyment or tell you how you must perceive the show. Ain't no one got time for that.

[daisyachain]

my stance on k/k is that the Haruhi Suzumiya novels are a charming, enjoyable genre blend of romance, sci-fi, and magical realism. Koizumi is a sparkling mixer to the heady main story as our main explicator and expositionist. He's a well-spoken narrator who verbalizes the more complex concepts at play in the stories, making them a summer cocktail rather than a stiff shot. Kyon is the trope-defining sardonic narrator who gives shape to the story and is the one to ultimately sell the Haruhi Suzumiya series to us as the reader. Between the two of them, Koizumi and Kyon tell us the story of Haruhi and they are instrumental in what we-the-audience make of events. Their dynamic between the true believer and the sceptic, the fake smile and the fake frown, the obfuscator and the denier, is great just on its own when taken at face value. I'm quite content to just read them as two characters who don't like each other very much and whose relationship is limited to mild antagonism over a girl they both love. I would do just that, if Tanigawa Nagaru wanted it. However in the year of our lord 2020, after closing the Kyon/Yuki subplot, after jossing any Kyon/Mikuru speculation, after committing fully to the Kyon/Haruhi romance in the story, he writes Koizumi having psychic foreknowledge of Kyon's measurements and expects us to make nothing of it. Huh.

[venusbyline]

Jacaerys Velaryon — Nine Moons.

chapter one

(prequel)

(next chapter)

— summary: After Lucerys' death and the arrival of the dragonseeds, Jacaerys no longer wants to be betrothed with Baela. He wants to marry his twin sister, even if it means going against Rhaenyra's decisions and sealing suffering in your life and his.

— pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x twin sister!reader

— type: smut, dark, sequel to Sleep (but can also be read as a standalone series)

— word count: 2.0k

— chapter's warnings: female!reader, dark!Jacaerys, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Targcest (twin brother/twin sister), dubcon, referenced rape/non-con, referenced dubcon somnophilia, forced pregnancy, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, squirting, overstimulation, crying, dacryphilia, underage sex, curse words, pregnancy kink, minor Jacaerys Velaryon/Baela Targaryen, referenced Targaryen/Velaryon Incest (cousins), minor Rhaenyra Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen, marriage of convenience mentioned, manipulation, sexism, possessive behavior, toxic relationship, dark content, dom!Jacaerys, sub!reader, canon divergence, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— author's notes¹: Nine Moons is a shortfic, sequel to the one shot Sleep, written for Kinktober. Both Nine Moons and Sleep can be read as standalone.

— author's notes²: Each chapter will have its own trigger warnings.

— high valyrian words used: Idaña (twin), Hāedar (younger sister), Lēkia (older brother).

— crossposting: AO3

❥ Nine Moons masterlist • Jacaerys masterlist • HOTD masterlist

❥ about me • main masterlist

"YOU DISHONORED HER!”

Rhaenyra's voice sounded deep and angry during the Council meeting, everyone lowering their heads as the Queen spoke, her hands rubbing her own face before pointing at her firstborn son, her index finger trembling as she tried to get air in her lungs to continue the sermon.

"You dishonored her, Jacaerys." She repeated, now with the voice a lower volume than before. "Not only have you tarnished her forever, but you have also sealed a fate in her life without my permission."

The Council members' gazes passed to you, your head bowed and tears flowing with a silent cry, and then shifted to Jacaerys, sitting in the chair next to you, his expression frighteningly serene for someone who had just been discovered.

It was not too difficult to know what had happened between the two of you. Not when your belly started to grow and become rounded.

The maids did not inform the Queen about the lack of blood on your sheets in those three moons, everyone was too focused on the progress of the Dance of the Dragons to try to think anything, but after Daemon's return to the castle, it became impossible to hide what had happened. Either way, Jacaerys had never tried to hide it. He was excited for when your family finally found out about the baby growing inside your belly. But during those entire three moons, Jace forced you to stay silent about all of that. It was a secret that you were obliged to keep for the own good of the three of you.

You had no one else to share your despair with during that first trimester. No one but Jace knew about the pregnancy, although your twin brother had doubts that Mysaria was many suspicious about it, even if you did not even leave your room when she was around.

"You fooled your family, the Council, the Kingdom. You shamed yourselves, you shamed me as your mother and as your queen..." Rhaenyra continued, looking at the two of you with disappointment. "Both of you acted behind my back, always lying and plotting in favor of a sick feeling, always obsessed about staying together at all costs and—"

It was Jacaerys's turn to finally interrupt her. "You are not the best person to talk about obsession and unhealthy feelings, Your Grace." The heir prince muttered mockingly, his gaze turning to Daemon in the corner of the room, his face serious and both hands pressed to the hilt of his sword as usual.

"Mind your tongue, Jacaerys." Daemon's voice sounded cold, his violet eyes looking at his stepson with contempt. "You were smart, I admit. However, your actions were so fucking impulsive. Taking your sister like that, getting her pregnant in secret. I can see it now... It was a plan so you could marry her, was not it? You think we will get you out of your marriage with my daughter Baela simply because you fucked a baby inside your twin's womb?"

Jacaerys swallowed hard, the entire Council filling with surprised whispers at the King Consort's words. Even Rhaenyra looked at Daemon with a bit of surprise, despite knowing that her uncle-husband was right. Jacaerys could not go unpunished for his impulsive decision. And not even you.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath and turned to the Council, looking around before noticing Baela, standing like most of the other members. However, her face contained a hidden fury that Rhaenyra had not yet seen so clearly. She knew that the last decision would be in the hands of the princess, as she knew that it would be unfair for her to decide and impose anything on Baela after the humiliation she had just gone through.

"My betrothal with Prince Jacaerys remains."

Jacaerys burst angrily into his own chambers, his hands knocking down any object he saw in front of him, the face reddened and furious as he yelled. You were still at your brother's side, calmly closing the door and watching his outburst of fury while you tried to find something welcoming to say, even though your mind was a mess.

You did not want Jacaerys' children. You did not want to get pregnant. You did not want your brother's obsession with you. Everything was so creepy. However, you could not tell your mother about Jace's threats, about you being, in a way, forced into that situation. No one would believe you. And you needed Jacaerys to help you through that. You needed a light at the end of the tunnel, and Jacaerys was now truly the only person in your favor.

You could deal with his troubled mind if he helped you...

"And now? What are we going to do?" You asked with a trembling voice. No one would marry you after not only were you no longer a maiden, but you also had children with another man. You would be forced to watch Jacaerys marry Baela and have children with her. Legitimate children. Yours would just be a bastard... A bastard baby of the future king...

Perhaps Lord Cregan Stark would accept you as his betrothed... He was not very picky about his wives' chastity. And after all, at least you would have already proven your fertility. Perhaps that could be enough to make another deal with the Northmen.

Jacaerys turned back, his angry expression softening a little as he took a deep breath, his forehead still warm due the anger. "I do not know." He admitted it grudgingly. Daemon was right. He had been smart and stupidly impulsive at the same time.

Your brother sat on the bed, his hand covering his face while he tried to think of something, anything that seemed probably to get the two of you out of this situation. To free himself from the destiny his mother had set for him. He would rather die than not marry you.

"Come here." Jacaerys ordered, his tone softer regardless of the frustration still evident. As you walked over to sit next to him, he held you around the waist, placing your legs on either side of his thigh, making you sit down with a sigh, the underwear beneath your dress doing little to prevent the sharp friction that he had caused.

The tearful reactions followed you every time he touched you. You could not help but close your eyes and try to pull back on instinct, remembering how he fucked you in your sleep three moons ago, determined to take what he thought was rightfully his. Your body, your virginity, your purity. Trying to turn you into a wife, a mother. Fill your womb with his seed, with his heir...

Your reaction did not go unnoticed by him. "Do not back down from me again, Hãedar. You know how much I hate it when you do that." He fell silent after you keep refusing to look directly at him, your eyes now open and focused just on the mattress beneath both of you.

Jacaerys knew you well enough to know that you woul not look at him willingly. He sighed with irritation, his large hands wandering up your dress, moving the fabric up your thighs until your soft skin was gracing his view. "You know I only want the best for us, right? For me and you, for our baby..."

His sweet words made you feel sick. You did not want to be pregnant and you also did not want to subject your child to the situation that would happen soon. You had about six moons until the baby was born, however, you could not imagine how the situation could improve, not after Baela reaffirmed that she would go through with her betrothal with Jace.

"Do not you want to be a queen consort? To be my queen?" Jacaerys murmured in a husky but gentle voice, the sickly sweet tone waking you up from the noisy thoughts that filled your confused and worried mind. You did not even register that you were now lying on the bed with your legs open for him, your underwear lost on the floor and your dress lifted to expose your cunt to Jace as he settled his face in front of it.

You whined when his thumb traced circles on your swollen pearl, making you curse yourself in your own mind for feeling so wet and creamy in the face of such chaos. "B-But Baela... Mother wants her to be your queen consort, not me..."

Jacaerys rolled his eyes, applying a little more pressure to his finger, a loud moan echoing through the rooms as your clit ached. "That was not what I asked, Idaña." Jace mumbled without much patience, changing the rhythm and moving his thumb up and down. "I can feel your swollen little bud pulsing against my finger." The sudden teasing left your face all red and you tried to hide yourself in the pillow. "Oh, little sister... Do not be so shy. You are pregnant with my child, it is pretty normal to feel more horny during pregnancy."

You knew it was true, but that did not make the situation any better. Then, you tried hard to change the subject and ignore how your legs shook from those touches. You wondered if Baela had ever experienced that feeling with Jace, and for a brief moment you felt really jealous.

"You know I only want you now, little sister. That is all that matters, the current moment." Jace muttered suddenly and you whined again. It was almost as if he could read your mind. The twins thing, as Rhaenyra had said since you were born, watching you cuddle together since you were just babies.

However, the little boy who used to apply kisses to your little wounds to pretend that they would heal faster, now had made you pregnant against your own will and was eating out your cunt as if he were starving, desperate for licking the honey that dripped from your legs, like a bee being attracted.

Or perhaps you were the bee drawn to Jace's honeyed words, macabre promises disguised as the stickiest, tastiest candy in the world. "J-Jace..." Your hands grabbed his curly hair while you felt your release approaching, your mind wanting to push him away but your hips moving faster against his face, desperate every minute your her cunt rubbed and smeared your brother's mouth. "Lēkia, please... I do not.. I do not want this again..." You moaned with tears streaming down your face. "It feels so wrong but it feels so good too, I cannot take this..."

Jace smirked and chuckled, enjoying the whirlwind of conflicting tearful requests that escaped from your lips. Whining and begging to him stop, moaning and begging him to keep going... You were a crying confused mess, and Jace loved that. He loved how you tried to push his face away with your shaking hands and at the same time rubbed your wet core against his lips to cum faster.

It did not take long for you to reach your high, crying out and echoing through Jace's chambers as he remained licking you, lips closing around your pearl and sucking softly until you were squirting all over his face thanks to the overstimulation. Jacaerys finally stood up after you whimpered for him to stop. He knew he could not push you too much due to the pregnancy, so he just caressed your little round belly, giving it a gentle and fatherly kiss. "My heir..."

Jace sat in front of you, watching your shaking body and appreciating your tearful whimpers. He admired the sight of your legs spread and your sensitive cunt spasming slightly after your orgasm, completely wet.

"I promise I will get rid of Baela. I will not stay away from you two." Jacaerys murmured with a smile, caressing your pregnant belly and ignoring the way you cried, preferring to believe that you were crying out due the fear of losing him, and not because of the cruel situation he had forced you into.

[randomshyperson]

Old Yellow Bricks - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: The conclusion to the adventures of an international thief and an Avenger witch. Or the one where you stop skipping work, Valentina answers the phone and Wanda does an ultrasound.

Warnings: (+18), smut (wanda taking the lead ‘cause that’s hot), bl*wjob, unprotected s*x, creampie, more shapeshifting stuff, some supervillain drama, minor angst with a happy ending I promise. | Words: 7.094k

A/N-> Hey folks, yes, I know I disappeared for a long time but I was so busy and mentally exhausted that I couldn't keep writing anymore, and I used practically half of my vacation just to get a decent amount of sleep. This story was almost abandoned, but I decided to give it an ending, even if it was a bit hasty, out of affection for the plot and out of consideration for those who have followed it up until now. I hope you aren't too dissatisfied with the ending, I tried to address any loose ends and leave it open to the canon we already know. Good reading.

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

It shouldn't come as a surprise that you got caught. But you did, mainly because for the past weeks you've felt so comfortable around Wanda that for a moment, you weren't you. No international bounty for your head, not gangs or supervillains or big schemes. 

Just you and Wanda.

Your small argument with the Black Widow was to blame for your distracted state, but fairly, those men were probably following you for a while now, just waiting for the right opportunity to show themselves.

They weren’t aggressive, despite everything. You're just walking a little further from the hotel and this Van - Strategically hidden with paintings from a pest control service - was parked next to the sidewalk and you immediately knew. The door opened and nobody came out. 

It was an invitation.

You took a deep breath and a last glance at the street before getting in.

The face of one of Valentina's most trustworthy henchmen, Mrs. Cassian Camorra,  came to focus in the poorly lit car. He was not alone, masked guards armed to the teeth took every other seat. The only vacant spot was for you.

With a discreet shift, there was no longer much difference between your muscles and theirs. The change made the white-collar man chuckle at you.

“There's no need for that, reaper.” Says Cassian with a smirk. “We're not here for a fight.”

You stare at him with an indifferent expression, lifting your chin a little. 

“The Guns send a different message.” You say but he smiles again just before nodding to the others, who immediately relax their alarmed posture even though they continue to listen to the conversation. In that small space, it would be impossible to do anything else.

You don't let your guard down but sigh once your eyes meet Cassian’s again.

“I don't go by that name anymore, Cass, you know that.”

He chuckles. “Would you prefer shithead?” He teases but you roll your eyes, wishing this conversation would end soon. He laughs again at your expression. “I still don't understand why you would be ashamed of one of your greatest achievements. The Reaper was a goddamn legend! The name gave people the chills!” He recalls excitedly. 

You swallow, shifting in your seat. “Just tell me what you are here for.” You cut his enthusiasm with a sharp demand, managing to make your voice deeper. The security guard next to him has this immediate reaction of touching his gun, but you offer him a cocky smirk before focusing on Cassian again.

He adjusts his suit, one of his hands moving to his jacket pocket to grab something. A small purple cart is extended to you but you don't move a muscle.

“I'm not looking for a job at the moment.” You tell him but he chuckles, flipping the card to show you the back of it.

You thought it was the traditional mission paper with a coding at the back, for you to find target information but instead of that habitual info, there's a written number there.

“The Countess asks to meet in person.”

You don't grab the card. “If that is what she wants, then why didn't she come here herself?”

The man chuckles, and without giving a damn about the concept of personal space, he moves his hands to find your pocket and shove the card inside.

“The Countess is a clever woman, child. Why on earth would she talk business with your new superhero friends around?”

“They are not my friends.” You mutter, pushing his hands away with a slap before pulling the card out of your pocket. “And if she really wished to see me, her face would be the one to welcome me into this car.”

But when you make mention of getting up, Cassian loses some of the calm facade he kept so far. 

“Sit your spoiled ass back right now, kid.” The bodyguards in the two seats behind you grab you by the shoulders, but their hands move away once you are back at your spot so you don't try to start a new fight. “This is the problem with Valentina's little freaks. You all think you're special. She's too soft with your type, so you grow confident in your insignificance. Let me tell you what's going to happen if you don't take this cordial invitation seriously, Lady Fontaine. Every favor for your protection, every deal, is off. You won't be CIA protégée anymore, you'll be on your own. For once in your life. That might talk some sense into your head.”

The anger is burning in your chest because of the cruel words but it spreads around with shame and guilt. Tears beg their way to your eyes but you keep your cheeks dry.

“I've been alone my whole life, Cass. You don't know shit.”

But he laughs, truly, as if you're joking.

“Alone? You? Hydra's golden egg goose?” He mocked managing some chuckles from his colleagues. “You're the one who doesn't know shit, you brat. You have no idea what people like us would do to have the kind of protection you so proudly display without a second thought. The mansions, the travels, the luxury. All that money. And don’t get me started on the attitude. The rest of us living in the gutter, trying to survive out of crumbs while freaks like you get to walk around like you own the world.” He narrates with a trace of bitterness and contained hatred that makes you shudder.  “How many times have you walked out of prison? Do you think it's the same for the rest of us? That we get those same privileges?”

Some redness escapes to your cheeks but you manage to keep your cool.

“I have no power over how things happen in our line of work, Cass. And I am hardly the one you should be angry at. Those privileges you say, believe me, they came at a very high price.”

But Cassian rolls his eyes, dismissing your words with a hand gesture. “Fragile. You always have been. Crybaby should be your next nickname.”

You sigh impatiently and this time, when you move to open the door and leave the car, they allow it without any fight. Standing on the sidewalk, you hear Cass hold the door open and look at him one last time.

He leans for one last warning. “If you ignore her invitation, she will have her answer. And we will be back, this time, not for a conversation.” He lets you know with a little smile that makes you shallow hard. The possibility of putting Wanda in danger makes your heart miss a beat. And when Cass lets out a small exclamation as if remembering something, you somehow know it's not a good thing. He searches in his other pocket only to take a small photo.

“Almost forgot. She asked me to give you this. A gesture of trust, she said.”

But that was nothing trustworthy about Valentina being aware of you and Wanda's relationship, especially for such a long time. The picture is from a security camera and is clear by the poor definition, but still, that day is still fresh in your mind as if it happened yesterday. The Avengers fair you once infiltrate to find Wanda, only for her to end any plan you might had or ever could by kissing you. Inside those tents you were safe but outside, the camera caught the last kiss you stole from her before your departure.

The fact that Valentina knew about this, for so long, makes you feel sick in your stomach.

You don't take the picture - it's a symbol of the false freedom you possessed under Valentina's wigs. You storm off and hear the agents giggling and muttering threats before the car is gone, and so are you when you make a curve that takes you back to the hotel parking lot.

The whole thing made your blood boil. How dare she? What was she even after, what did that photo even mean? Was it a treat? Or it could really be a gesture of trust? Something like, yes she knew and she never did anything about it, so maybe Valentina doesn't want your complete misery.  But then again, you know her well enough to tell that every action she takes is a well-planned one. If she knew about your relationship with Wanda and allowed that with no fuss other than a small bait in the first weeks, telling you to read Avengers files in an attempt to get you away from Wanda, then for sure, Valentina had a bigger plan. 

And for once in your life, you're done with being the pawn.

Wanda's asleep when you're back in your shared motel room so you do your best to keep it quiet on your way to the bathroom.

This will be painful but you're confident you can manage, with your powers help at least.

The small device hidden under your ribs is a high-tech tracker and it's your last physical connection to your old life. It doesn't work unless you want it to, because it answers to a biological stimulation only you can provide. Baron von Strucker gave this to you as a work tool, if you were ever captured, you could call for help without anyone being aware.

You haven't tried to use the device purposefully in years, but sometimes, when being too hurt, it would activate on its own. And because it's quite easy to forget a hidden object behind your ribs, it occurred to you that it has been active since you bled out in Greece, the same day Wanda called to tell you she was pregnant.

The realization that Valentina was aware of your location for so long, Wanda's and her friends especially, rips a sob to your throat. It’s more painful to know you’ve been putting her in danger than the open wound.

You muffle down your crying the second you hear the bed shifting. But luckily Wanda doesn't wake up. Taking a deep breath, your shaky hands keep doing the hard work - to cut open with a medical kit's scalpel your skin so you can remove the tracker.

It's painful of course but it ends quickly. You don't need a badge but it does take a lot of energy to heal on your own so when you're finally back at the bed, after destroying the little device with a squeeze, storing everything else, and getting clean, you're quite exhausted. Stumbling around, you do a poor job of laying down without much noise.

Your girlfriend only grumbles sleepy in return before her magic brings you closer to her body.

-&-

“Wake up.”

It's less gentle than previous attempts, but Wanda had to do it. You were really disturbed in your sleep - mumbling and sweating as if you were running.

Your restlessness and discomfort disturbed her greatly, but she gives you a tender smile as she sees all the tension ease when you meet her eyes.

Sleepily, you close your eyes again the next moment and Wanda takes the opportunity to move the sweaty hair away from your face.

"You were having a nightmare." She mumbles, and she's almost sitting on your lap so you think that it would be a waste to miss the opportunity. Your hands bring her into the position with ease, but Wanda has concern on her face. "Talk to me, detka."

A smile fills your lips, and you remain in a half-asleep state. "I love it when you call me that. You're so lovely, Wanda."

A faint blush fills your cheeks, but Wanda is determined to clarify a few things. "You came back late and as big as a bodyguard. I want to know what happened." She says, and seeing you sigh with your eyes closed, she frowns her heart racing. "Did you find trouble?"

"No, everything's fine." You retort quickly, stubbornly. And Wanda tilts her head incredulously at the clear lie. You finally look her in the eye, and she thinks it's unfair that you're such a pretty liar. Unable to hold her gaze, you look away, the flush on your face more from embarrassment than anything else. "It was nothing." You correct, annoyed, and Wanda sighs at the whole thing. She hopes that one day, your barriers won't have to be so raised all the time and you'll be able to trust her by instinct. But considering the kind of life you've led so far, maybe something like that is just impossible to achieve. 

She moves one of her hands to your face, caressing the skin tenderly. "If you can't put it into words, let me see."

You close your eyes again, nodding, and the invasion is almost immediate. The whole thing happens very quickly - Wanda is getting better at it. Accessing last night's memories is easy, the hard part is dealing with their significance.

When she comes to her senses, the room comes into focus again and so does your turned-away face. Pure guilt and shame in your expression.

"I'm sorry." You say promptly, your voice a bit tearful. " I keep fucking things up. I brought them to us because I forgot the damn tracking, and I got everyone in danger. I understand if you're angry and want to shout at me."

Wanda sighs at the words, shaking her head. "No one's going to be yelling at anyone." She says, her hands moving lower to pull your shirt up a little. She traces the new scar, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders as she sees that, apparently, you've healed fine. 

"Don't ever do anything like this again." She says, and you sniffle.

"That was the only trace I had-"

"Not that." She cuts in seriously, waiting for you to look at her. Wanda looks more hurt than angry and that confuses you. "You can't just self-harm in the bathroom and sew yourself back up in silence. You have to tell me things. You should let me take care of you, all right?"

Aware that the warmth spreading through your chest is quickly creeping up your neck and ears, you give up on putting together a coherent sentence. You nod quickly, and Wanda gives a weak laugh.

"I'm not angry." She continues, adjusting your shirt again, although her hands remain underneath, drawing patterns on your skin as she speaks. "You're always so... jumpy. And you get into trouble like it's second nature. And you're so incredibly stubborn-"

"Thanks." You grumble ironically, but your annoyance turns into a choke when you feel Wanda shift in your lap. It's an intentional fit at your hips, she's probably noticed the bulge you'd forgotten you were even carrying now. And the fit takes the air out of your lungs and makes your body jerk gently, waking you up completely. 

Wanda doesn't pay a second's attention to your reactions as she continues to talk. "You also have this habit of not letting me finish my sentences." She says with a little grin, her eyes dilating as your breathing starts to get heavy. "And I have to admit that you're hard work, but darling, you're worth every second of that effort. I wish I could take all the pain out of your past, but since I can't, I need you to understand that you're no longer dealing with things on your own. That I'm as devoted to you as you are to me."

These are romantic, intense, and considerate words. But Wanda is grinding slowly against your hips as she says them and you can only return a desperate nod, a deep moan tearing its way into your throat.

Wanda won't even let you lead - Your hands grab her barely covered ass through the oversized shirt she's stolen from you in an attempt to intensify the friction, but bright magic threads pull your wrists away in the next second. 

With your hands pinned to the headboard, you can only squirm at the mercy of the woman on top of you.

"You feel bigger than last time, baby." She whispers, almost losing her train of thought during a particularly hard thrust against your hips. You struggle to breathe.

But Wanda stops, and you bite back a sigh of frustration as you stare at her in a mixture of desperation and curiosity. She works with a certain urgency on your underwear, but instead of rewarding you with her warm cunt, she moves away until she's between your legs, her nails scratching your thighs.

"W-wanda, what are you doing?" You ask, suddenly very shy, your eyes slightly wide. She giggles, as her magic removes your underwear completely, and she leans in, planting kisses on your thighs that make you shiver.

Her dominant hand finally grabs your length and it's not very gentle so you let out something between a moan and a whimper and Wanda looks at you with a certain regret.

"Sorry, babe." She says softly, still holding you now more carefully. "I've never done this before."

Your mouth is dry, and your eyes want to close and just enjoy the sensation, but you fight these instincts to speak. "Done what, Wanda?"

She giggles mischievously, and her hand moves slowly, giving a tentative squeeze that makes the muscles in your thigh twitch. "You know what." She says in return, although you both share the strong blush on the cheeks, Wanda seems more confident about what she's about to do. "It can't be that hard. And if I do something wrong, you can just tell me to stop."

"Wanda, you don’t have to-" But she leans in, and unceremoniously takes your member into her mouth. You break down in an aroused sob, arching up on the bed. 

It's heaven, you're sure. Wanda Maximoff decided to wake you up with a blowjob, it’s a gift from the heavens that you must definitely don’t deserve but you won’t complain. You struggle against the magical chains just as you struggle to breathe and not to come immediately when Wanda continues to suck you off. 

It's sloppy at first - as she mentioned, she had never done that before. But the lack of practice doesn't make the act any less deliriously enjoyable. You feel very close very quickly and have to use all your concentration when Wanda meets your gaze, mouth full.

"Jesus." You groan, your whole body vibrating. Wanda pulls back, licking the tip and your eyes roll back. "Fuck."

She revels in your moans as much as she does in the whole thing. She can feel her own core throbbing at seeing you so pathetically at her mercy, but she wants you to finish first. Her hand moves to help and with each lick of the head leaking pre-cum, your body jerks in a way that makes the bed shake.

"Come on, baby, you can cum." She encourages you firmly as she alternates between sucking and licking. "You need this. And I got you."

You cry out the warning, and Wanda takes your whole length so as not to waste a drop. Your back arches on the bed, and the hot shot is deep into her throat. Wanda moans in return, making a mess all around as you try to return to orbit, your chest heaving and your body jerking.

She kisses your now flaccid member, biting back a smile as she watches the final throbs. Taking advantage of your state, Wanda resumes her previous position on your lap. Her magic fades from your wrists.

Just the brief rubbing of her thick thighs against you is enough for Wanda to feel you harden again.

"Are you sure, babe? You're still shaking." She asks teasingly, but all you give in return is an affected chuckle, your hands helping her to settle into you. The invasion happens slowly, and Wanda groans satisfied at the proof that yes, you are bigger. The stretching is gentle, and it's not painful because she's soaked, but it's still there and she has to bite her lips as she slowly sinks down until you bottom up.

Panting together, you watch her adoringly, your hands on her hips helping her move.

Wanda doesn't rush things. She rides you leisurely, feeling every inch of your cock inside her warm walls until the slowness is too overwhelming. 

Her hands rest on your shoulders, and you don't care that her nails are digging into your skin because Wanda feels too good for you to think of any other sensation than that tight pussy wrapping around you.

She holds your gaze, and between the grunts and moans she lets you know; "I love you." You can only nod, trying to gasp the same when Wanda suddenly bounces harder.

One of your hands grips with more strength, enough to mark the skin and she has to grab the headboard for a firmer support.

You groan at her nearly roughness; "Easy, woman." You try, even though she's grinding vigorously and the room has started to spin. "Wanda, damn it. Be more... ah... careful. You're pregnant...slow down… God."

She comes first, which is a surprise because you honestly don't know how you managed to hold it for so long.

You're still coming inside her when she collapses on top of you, falling down against your shoulder. But then there's satisfied laughter filling the room, and a joke about that being a very incredible way to start a day.

-&-

It's decided that you guys need to move as soon as you and Wanda are properly dressed and Wanda has encouraged you to be honest with the other Avengers.

And she also doesn't need to be a mind reader to know that there's something wrong with Natasha, who doesn't offer more than a mumble of agreement and doesn't say anything about you keeping a tracker jammed in your ribs all this time. 

While Wanda goes out to buy breakfast for the team, you stay behind and busy yourself packing the bags. But she is recognized at the grocery store near the motel when she tries to buy breakfast. It's just a child and her older sister, wanting photos with an Avenger, but it still causes her so much anxiety that she goes back to the bedroom with something more than food: a box of hair dye.

"I thought I'd follow Natasha's idea." That's what she gives as an explanation, and you laugh confusedly but end up believing it until Wanda has bleached spots and ends up confessing what really made her late. 

You're standing in the doorway, and she's focused on painting her hair, her eyes meeting yours through the reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"I'm sorry for not saying it right away. I just didn't want to worry you." 

You let out a sigh before offering her a small smile. "No problem, love." You assure her, reaching over to pick up the empty box of the product and read some of the labeling on the back. "I'm more concerned about whether pregnant women can dye their hair."

Your comment makes Wanda giggle. Her magic continues the process of coloring the spots, and she busies herself with washing her hands at the sink. 

"Well, most pregnant women can't manipulate energy and move things with their minds. I think I'll survive." She jokes back, sticking her tongue out at you when you smile. It ends up being a small grimace battle before you return the empty box to the garbage can and lean in to steal a kiss from her.

Wanda smiles through it, but her cold, wet hands reach under your blouse and make you jump. She laughs at the reaction, and you can barely notice the time passing as you play with each other and wait for the dye to finish settling on your locks.

When Wanda disappears back into the bathroom for a while, you wait for her to finish washing her hair and nothing really prepares you for the new look. Your girlfriend is slightly shy as she reappears, the towel still slung over her shoulders.

"So, what do you think?" She asks about the red hair and you swallow dry, speechless. Wanda blushes immediately, a nervous giggle escaping her lips. "What?"

"You look..." Your voice fails you and you have to clear your throat. "Really beautiful."

Wanda smiles, but then raises an eyebrow, gesturing gently in your direction. "It does seem that you truly like it, dear, I'm flattered."

You blink in confusion, before following her gaze and noticing your own body, and the bulge in your pants. Grinning in embarrassment, you quickly cover yourself with the nearest pillow. "Sorry." You mumble with your ears burning, but Wanda giggles, glancing quickly at the ajar door.

"I wonder if we still have time before we leave." She comments, scarlet threads appearing through the wood with the thought of closing it, but as if guessing the intentions of a delay, the door suddenly opens and Captain Rogers is practically pushed inside by Natasha.

"Nice change, Maximoff. But I hope your suitcases are ready." That's what the widow said, and she looked stressed, most likely because of all the stories about her adventures the night before. If your embarrassment over the tracker story wasn't enough, there was the other one you were trying to hide under your pillow. Wanda disguised it better than you, nodding quickly to the widow and gesturing toward the ready backpacks. "Steve can you take these to the quinjet please, I want to have a word with Romeo and Juliet."

The Captain sighed, trying to ignore being made a baggage handler - Muscles must be good for something - and offered you and Natasha a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

The widow closed the door but you spoke first. “Listen Nat, if this is a second scolding for the tracker, I've already made sure it can't be retraced and-"

"That's not it." She interrupts you with a certain determination, then a forced smile. "I've found a doctor for you. For Wanda, to be more exact."

The now red-haired woman gives Nat a surprised look and it's you who asks; "Are you sure it's safe? Risking a medical appointment in the situation we're in."

"You underestimate me."

"I didn't mean it like that."

But Nat smiles genuinely, shrugging. She checks her watch.

"We're actually going to meet her. Apart from Banner, she's the only doctor I trust."

You and Wanda exchange a look before nodding to Natasha in thanks. Your girlfriend then asks; "That's not all you wanted to talk about, is it Nat?"

The widow nods, seeming to get upset for a moment.

"I'm not saying this for the tracker story, I swear I'm not, but... maybe it's better if Y/N doesn't stay with us anymore."

Wanda snorts indignantly, ready to protest, especially as you lower your head. 

"We stay together-"

"I know." Natasha cuts off Wanda's defensiveness with a sigh. "I wouldn't expect otherwise." She mutters, taking a deep breath to gather her courage. "Rogers doesn't agree, you know how protective he is over you. I mean, he was pretty indignant when Tony tried to ground you in the Tower. Anyway, that's not the point. Clint left. He accepted a decent deal until things settle down, and yes, they will settle down. I know it feels like our world has turned upside down overnight, but we need to remember why the Avengers were created in the first place. It's only a matter of time before they need us, all of us again, and maybe it's experience talking, but I've seen so many governments collapse and rise again. I have seen this movie before."

The widow vents and you and Wanda don't have the heart to interrupt her. 

"What I mean is that Clint can make a deal for his family, and maybe you can do the same."

Wanda thinks for a moment until she swallows. "I'm not an agent with years of military service to my credit. General Ross would never offer me a deal."

"Not him. And not to you." Natasha retorts, turning her face towards you.

You sigh deeply as you understand exactly what she's implying. " Is there really no other option?"

Natasha gives you a sympathetic smile. "That's not an ultimatum, mercenary. Just think about it. None of us wants a pregnant woman in the life of a fugitive, and don't make that face Wanda, I know you don't want the baby to be in danger either." Your girlfriend begrudgingly shuts up, knowing that the widow is right. "Just give it a thought. Melina has agreed to do the prenatal care, so you have all this time to make a decision."

Natasha nods in farewell before heading out the door, and you turn to Wanda.

"Do you have any idea who Melina is?"

-&-

In the safety of the Quinjet and the untraceable lines of the Avengers, you call Contessa Fontaine.

The first thing Valentina says when she sees your face in the high-definition hologram is a scolding; "That tracker was worth a billion dollars."

You have to laugh, your back resting on the cold metal of the ship. "Can't say I'm sorry, boss. Having a tracker in the middle of your ribs doesn't scream work ethic."

She gives a short laugh, and you realize from the surroundings that she's in the private room of the Fontaine Mansion, a place you've been to countless times before.

"What can I do for you, my dear child?" She asks, slightly impatient. You swallow dry.

"Your people said you wanted to see me." You comment. 

Valentina laughs wryly. "Oh, yes, in person. Not talking through an Avengers line. You must have lost your mind."

"There are no more Avengers, Val, you know that." You retort, and she smiles in satisfaction.

"Touche." She mutters before raising her bright eyes to you. "But let me guess, they're listening to this conversation."

You sigh impatiently. "What difference does it make? I've been with them for weeks. I could have told them all the secrets I know about your work, but I didn't. Just as you didn't inform General Ross of their location. So how about we stop playing games?"

Valentina gives another evil little laugh, nodding. "Oh, dear, I miss our conversations, you're always so direct and attentive. Yes, I didn't hand over Team America to Ross, because unlike that arrogant fool, I have no interest in seeing our heroes trapped in the Raft. Only someone like Ross and his ballistics background would think of something as stupid as taking out Earth's main line of defense for threats we have no means of dealing with." You remain silent at Val's words, and she takes a breath to continue. "You know me, Y/N. I like my... enhanced ones. I understand the grandeur of this new world, men like Ross, impressionable with colored rifles, don't."

"So... you've been trying to help the Avengers?"

She breaks into a laugh. "Help? Don't go that far." She retorts grinning. "Let's say we had allied objectives up to the present moment. And I have no reason to put them out of work, you know? In any case, perhaps a little time out of the spotlight and struggling will lower some of their egos. It's a shame that Mr. Stark always seems to shrug off the consequences of his actions, he could learn something without having billions to spare."

You sigh without patience for the speech, adjusting your body. "Val, speaking of money-"

"Oh, it's about time."

With a short laugh, you continue; "I need mine."

She looks at you for a moment, before smiling. "Your money has always been yours to use. Nothing has changed."

But you force a smile, not quite believing it. "Everything has changed, Val. I don't want Lady Fontaine's money. I don't want to be one of your pawns. I want a new account, a new life. With everything I've worked to earn."

"And what makes you think I can give it to you?"

You snort, rubbing a stress point on your forehead. "Please, Val, don't take me for someone naïve, who doesn't know the extent of your influence."

But Valentina sighs deeply, resting her elbows on the table and her chin in her hands, to look at you intently.

"In fact, I'm beginning to think that your naivety is indeed remarkable and, unfortunately, my responsibility." She comments, and you chuckle ironically and indignantly, but she doesn't let you question it. "There is no new beginning for you, Y/N. Not the way you're asking me, not the way you really want. You're deluding yourself if you think I can bring in false documents and billions of dollars without anyone ever finding out the truth. That's not how things work. The bill always comes, and a past so stained with red always catches up with people like us." She says and you swallow, not having the heart to interrupt when you know deep down that she's not lying. Despite her seriousness, Valentina's gaze softens: "I know it's not what you wanted to hear, but all is not lost. You've been walking around for weeks with someone who committed as many atrocities as you did, and yet have been allowed to experience the greatest version of freedom a criminal can get."

It takes a moment for you to realize that she's talking about Natasha. You glance quickly at the main area of the quinjet through the glass of the private room they got you to call Val, and your former boss uses this time to light a cigarette.

"I'm not a black widow."

Val chuckles. "Of course not, they fight much better." She comments and you grimace. Val takes a slow drag, blowing smoke against the camera before continuing to talk; "Speaking of them, you should thank your new friend sometime. The amount of black widows she's put on the market looking for work is what's given you so much time off. I'm not short-staffed, thanks to that."

"I'm glad the rescue of trafficked women has given you new employees, Contessa." You sneer in annoyance, stepping out of the way of the video and ignoring her confusion to tap lightly on the glass. The Avengers outside look up at the same time, but you wave for Natasha and Wanda to come inside. 

"Where'd you go, little bird?" Val asks the wall, and ends up choking on her smoke as the faces of the two Avengers come into focus next to you. "Oh, hello. What an honor-"

"Cut it, Val." You interrupt annoyedly, squeezed between Natasha and Wanda on the seat in the room. "Make your proposal. I want Romanoff to tell me if it's true, because she's the only one with any real experience of these things, and well, Wanda's my partner and she should be up to speed."

Your former boss smiles impressed. "What a lovely thing, a thief and an Avenger, my eyes can hardly believe it." 

You snort impatiently, but Valentina doesn't keep up the teasing. She nods, before turning her attention to the personal computer next to her phone. As she types, she repeats her earlier proposal. "I need to work on it first, dear. But I understand it will be something very similar to the agreements Miss Romanoff signed with Shield when she was hired as an Agent. Serving the American government entirely in exchange for freedom."

Natasha looks at you. "Is that what you want to do? Be an Agent?"

But you shake your head, offering her a sad smile. "There's no more Shield to recruit me. And I don't think I'm fit to be an Avenger anyway. But Val is director of the CIA. She could offer me something perfectly legal. And I could have an almost normal life."

"But what about the Sokovia agreements?" Wanda asks in concern. "You're an enhanced one."

Before you can answer, Val hums and grins. "Oh, I can see why you like that one, she's clever." You roll your eyes at the provocation, wishing you'd gone to see Val in person and could pull a gun on her to make her behave. Your boss stops typing and turns her full attention to the three of you. "Miss Maximoff has a very good point. If you wish to work with me at the moment, a CIA Agent contract, you would be legally obliged to sign the Sokovia Agreements."

You snort impatiently. "I'm not signing something that would force me to become a lab rat again! And certainly not something that says Wanda should be behind bars or-"

"Relax, I didn't say I was going to make you sign it." She cuts in. "And you're the one in a hurry for a new job after all. I don't understand the hesitation to do something that could be entirely bureaucratic if you stay out of the spotlight."

You hesitate, and exchange a quick glance with the two women next to you. Natasha shakes her head in the negative, but Wanda sighs.

"I'm pregnant."

Valentina chokes on her cigarette again, and Natasha covers her face with her hands. You don't know how to react, and Wanda keeps talking.

"Y/N is doing this for us, and if your partnership has meant anything other than work all these years, I know you'll help her."

But Valentina shakes her head, chuckling incredulously to herself. Wanda begins to worry. 

"I don't want to appeal to sentimentality, I'm just asking you to be considerate. Job or not, no one is going to put my family at risk. I won't take it lightly if your people follow and threaten her again."

But Val gestures quickly. "A child, little bird? How can you keep this a secret from me?"

You sigh tiredly. "It wasn't exactly any of your business."

But Val leans over to pick something up from the table, and you frown as you recognize your old research file. "Except, well, it's entirely my business." Val retorts seriously, her eyes running over the pages she's leafing through. Until she lets out a small exclamation. "Yes, here it is. Strucker specifically wrote that you were infertile. And that was a disappointment of course, because everyone who gets an enhanced one, would love to make more of them."

Wanda looks at you with confusion, but you stand up as if you're going to choke on the attention, taking the cell phone with you to the other corner of the room.

"I know exactly what those pages say, you don't have to read them to me." You retort angrily. "Strucker had to believe that he couldn't have more of me, okay? I couldn't..." Your voice falters, but you control your emotions by swallowing hard. "I did what I had to do. The changes to my body so that he would never find out. So that no one would find out. But when I'm with Wanda, I just... I don't think about the past. I can breathe, Val. And it happened. And I'm asking you, if your mentoring has meant anything all these years, to give me a chance to be more than a goddamn puppet. Please."

Your boss remains silent, thoughtful, before sighing and offering you something like a sincere smile, however small.

"Ten years, little bird."

You frown in confusion. "What?"

"Ten years." She repeats. "That's the most I can offer you. Your money, a new identity, a fresh start. Think of it as extended maternity leave. The child will be old enough for boarding schools, and I'll charge you for the services."

"I-I..." You hesitate, looking at Wanda who has an expression that says she can't make this decision for you.

Valentina stands up, taking the phone with her. "I'll work on your contract carefully. Nick Fury is not a foolish man, little bird. He sees the world as I do, the dangers that surround us and that must come from the outside. I like the idea of a team working on my behalf, but it's too early for anything like that. Especially with everything that's happening with the first team." Val continues, and you swallow. She gives you a genuine smile. "And of course, all those years have meant something to me. You're the first person I'd trust with the job."

You want to tell her that this isn't the kind of meaning you'd like, but you think that work reliability is all Valentina can offer you. You nod and thank her and she says goodbye before hanging up.

Natasha thinks it best to leave you and Wanda alone for a moment, and when you sit down on the floor, Wanda sits down next to you. Silently, she holds your hand and rests her head on your shoulder.

"A lot can change in ten years." You murmur, and you don't need to explain for Wanda to understand your hope that you won't have to fulfill any contracts. She squeezes your hand tighter because the decision has already been made. 

Your cell phone vibrates again, not with the CIA contract, but with your new documents and bank account filled with all the money you've earned as a mercenary. It makes your stomach turn with the feeling that you've just sold yourself again, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Wanda turns away to look at you and waits for you to do the same. Once your gazes are connected, she raises her hand to your face and pulls you in to kiss you softly on the lips.

"I'll always love you. Nothing will ever change that." She whispers against your lips, her forehead resting against yours. "I need you to promise that you'll always remember it."

You caress the wrist of the hand she holds to your cheek, and continue with your eyes closed. "I won't remember anything else."

She smiles, ending the distance again.

You kiss for a moment before you pull away to press your lips to her forehead and squeeze her hand. 

"We'll be fine, Wanda. It's me and you, and just one baby. We can manage."

She smiles tenderly, nodding before hiding her face in the crook of your neck and sighing as she repeats the words. "You're right. Two of us, and a whole team of grumpy superheroes to handle one little baby. How hard can it be?"

Six hours later, Melina Vostokoff carried out Wanda's first ultrasound, which would reveal not one, but two little boys growing inside her womb. Both of them had a natural inclination towards superpowers. 

But that's another story.

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you'd known that Simon wasn't okay since it had been announced that they'd found blood in the boiler room. his pain, his hurt, his loss had spilled out from him and into you and you'd had no clue how to handle it. and then suddenly, you'd been soothed, and all you'd been able to think of had been getting to the source of that comfort and giving thanks.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.8

Wally couldn't stop thinking about earlier. How the slopes and arches of your body fit against him like a puzzle piece. How malleable you'd been under his touch. The intense liquid heat that had thrummed between you both as he'd leaned in to kiss you; heartbeats synchronized, eyes fluttering closed, utterly surrendered to the sensation.

He'd kissed a few girls when he'd been alive. Hell, he'd made out with Dawn a handful of times when adrenaline and hormones had needed an outlet. None of those experiences held a candle to what he'd felt when he'd just barely brushed his lips to yours.

There was something underneath it all. Not just his attraction to you, which he'd harbored for going on two years now. Something else. Something mystical and big and unleashed. Maybe you already knew what it was. After all, you could reach through the veil, hear and see and feel Wally...maybe you had an explanation.

If only the connection between you and Wally hadn't made it practically impossible to finish a conversation.

"Where'd you go, superstar?"

Wally nearly jumped in surprise, having forgotten he wasn't alone. He glanced around, saw Katelynn—the courtyard fatality—and Ajay studying him as intently as Rhonda. They were in the kitchen piling a late lunch of leftovers onto their plates while, around them, the staff muddled through their end-of-day breakdown.

"Uh," Wally supplied, intelligently. He was a miserable liar, something Rhonda had teased him for mirthlessly in the past. Told him he was as easy to read as 3rd grade English (ouch). But he didn't take his promises lightly and knew he had to come up with something or Rhonda would grill him until he broke. Deflection it was, "Do you think Maddie had a good time?"

Rhonda, perched primly on a counter, rolled her eyes and plucked a bread roll from the bin one of the staff was about to seal. "Jesus, you really are ditzy for her, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that," Wally said. He really wouldn't, "I just want her to—"

"Confess her undying love? Make you the center of her universe and forget all about her dreamy, badboy ex?" Rhonda scoffed, "Hate to break it to you, hot stuff, but you'd just be a rebound and we all know how those end."

"Badly?" Katelynn guessed. Having been fourteen when she'd kicked the bucket, she'd likely never had the chance to explore the intricacies of romance. Or of all its thorns.

Rhonda's hands clamped and then bloomed in front of her as she vocalized a bomb exploding.

"No, Rhonda, that's not it," Wally spoke in long strokes, as if to a child, willing away a flash of irritation. "What I was gonna say was that I want her to know there's more to being dead than trying to solve your own murder." Since, after all was said and done, there'd be nothing left to do besides passively haunt Split River High.

And that shit got dull after a semester or two.

Unexpectedly, "I spoke to her today." Rhonda admitted, somewhat reluctant, as the group paraded from the kitchen into the cafeteria. Wally encouraged her to continue with a smile, "About how I died. She thought it could help, so..." She slid into her regular seat next to Wally, eyes fixed on her plate, "I guess it did because she took off after."

It was obvious that relinquishing even that morsel of information made her uncomfortable, shoulders curled to her ears and lips pursed, those metaphorical walls re-erecting.

Wally clapped her on the back, "You did good, Deadly." A fond nickname he used sparingly as it often earned him an elbow to the ribs.

This time, Rhonda simply glared a warning at him before tearing a piece off her bread roll and smearing it through the gravy on Wally's plate. Progress, he supposed.

To move the conversation away from Rhonda, Wally engaged Katelynn, "I saw you with the extinguisher today."

Katelynn grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"You know what we should do next time? We get those chairs with the wheels, a couple of fire extinguishers..." He mimed the scene with fervor, grinning conspiratorially between the others, "We could do it in the gym. Take bets. See who goes farthest. It would be awesome!"

Rhonda patted his knee twice—thank you—under the table. How she displayed gratitude without being obvious. As discreetly as possible, Wally returned the gesture, tapping three times to indicate I've got you.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Somehow, you'd done it: graduated to the end of the school day without incident. Sure, Mathilda had given you a funny look when you'd made your excuses to stay behind, but she'd been too distracted by what pieces to include in her portfolio to cross-examine you about it.

"Text me later, sillybean!" She called over her shoulder as she, Hana, and Lucas exited the school.

The siblings waved in unison, Hana pirouetting and blowing you a kaleidoscope of exaggerated kisses before falling back into step with her brother.

You turned back to your locker, shoving in your backpack and your uncle's hoodie. You'd accepted that the connection between you and Wally quashed any attempt you made to hide from him; berated yourself for not realizing it sooner.

After you'd closed the door and slipped the lock back into place, you mustered your courage and turned toward the direction of the theater. You could do this. Without getting sidetracked.

Yeah, you believed that about as much as you believed the lunchroom bread rolls were 'made fresh' everyday.

A metallic clamor caught your attention before you'd even stepped a foot forward, causing you to hesitate. Down several lockers along the row, Simon shook his lock against the hasp furiously. He was unmistakably upset, jaw tight, vibrating with unfettered anger.

You approached him just as he kicked the locker below his.

"Here," You said, inserting yourself between Simon and his locker, "What's the combo?"

Without pause, "8-37-15," he recited through gritted teeth.

You dialed the combination, unhooked the lock and held it out for Simon to take.

"You okay?" You asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes." Simon lied then abruptly changed his mind, "No. I don't know." He dumped his bag at his feet and rummaged through the contents of his locker only to give up and spin around. Propped against the closed bottom level, Simon ran his hands through his hair roughly, reminding you of someone with responsibility that outweighed their experience.

"What's going on, Si?"

He lifted his head, brow creased with despair, "Aren't friends supposed to trust each other?"

The question knocked you for six. Unsure if it was rhetorical, you chose to stay quiet and, sure enough, Simon expounded. "Aren't friends supposed to tell each other things, even if it's hard? Even if they think it might hurt? Because, at the end of the day, you chose that person to be there for you no matter what. And that person chose you right back."

No questions asked. Your voice overlapped with Xavier's, years worth of emotional petitions for comfort and unbiased support echoing in your head.

Thinking of your friend, you wondered, "Is this about Nicole leaving with Xavier after lunch?"

Simon seemed surprised by the news, yet, after a second, confirmed, "Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's about that."

He stared at his feet, arms folded tightly across his middle, chewed his lip as he pondered what he wanted to disclose. Finally, "I just want to be there for her, but it's like she won't let me. And it sucks." His voice was damp with pain. "And now she's pissed and she's shut me out and...I don't know what to do."

When he raised his head again, you almost choked on the sorrow in his eyes. You wanted to hug him, hold him, cry. Here was a boy whose best friend had, for all intents and purposes, left him behind, and now he was scared he'd lost someone else.

The mounting sadness radiating from Simon made your eyes sting. You had no clue how to comfort him, not like you did Xavier or Mathilda, the two people you'd chosen and who'd chosen you back.

The strength of secondhand emotion chipped away at you, threatened to shatter you into a thousand anguished pieces, but just as you thought you would break, a familiar warmth sunk into the cracks. The sensation blossomed upward and concentrated behind your ribs, loosening a deep breath of relief.

Absently, you shifted your hand the slightest bit away from where it rested against your thigh, the movement undetectable unless one was looking for it. The warmth grew, contented and safe, and then—a whisper of fingertips across the back of your hand, there and gone.

You didn't move, kept your gaze on Simon; simply waited for Wally to enter your periphery. His back was to you, his hand returning to his jacket pocket as he, Rhonda, and a couple of others walked toward the end of the hall. You vaguely saw him split from the rest of the group, Wally going left while the other three went right.

Simon swallowed, mournful, and he rasped, "What do I do?"

Invigorated by Wally's touch, you planted yourself in front of Simon, placed your hands on his shoulders, and urged him to, "Talk to her. People knock communication like it's some cringe cliché, but it's the best way to resolve things." He nodded, weak but resolute, and you dragged him into a hug. "Trust me," You said, "Just be honest and listen. You don't have to understand everything, you just have to accept it."

Simon chuckled wetly, squeezed you tighter for an instant before releasing you.

"Thanks."

"Any time." And you meant it in your bones. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Simon said, scrubbing the back of his wrist over his eyes, "I'll be fine." He cleared his throat, "Listen, um, I forgot something in the cafeteria, but if you want to wait I could give you a ride home."

Something in his tone suggested the offer was halfhearted, though you appreciated it all the same.

"Nah, it's cool. I have to study." You replied, already positioning yourself to leave. Simon didn't mention that the library was in the other direction, merely flashed you a small, grateful smile.

"See you tomorrow." He saluted.

Free to excuse yourself, you found you had to fight the desire to go go go, hurry, go, that warm sensation purring louder the closer you got to the theater. Fuck making sure the coast was clear, you were supposed to be in there right now; swung the door open with probably a lot more force than necessary.

Wally, who had been sitting on the edge of the stage awaiting your arrival, hopped down as soon as you entered the darkened space, his gaze instantly locking with yours.

One dubious step, two, three, and the warmth fizzled and licked inside you, encouraging your pace to quicken, faster, nearer. You broke into a run, closing the distance, Wally's stare never wavering. With less than a foot remaining, you sprung up, body colliding into his. He caught you easily, held you in his arms with one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist.

No thoughts, no words, no inhibitions; fever-hot and eager; Wally's jaw in your palms, you surged forward and pressed your lips to his.

💀___________________________

PART SEVEN - PART NINE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[celaenaeiln]

Nothing in Batman comics is canon because it’s literally 90% fanfiction written after the actual creators stopped writing the characters.

anon it doesn't work that way.

By that logic, practically noone exists because the original writer of Batman, Bob Kane and Bill Finger, only created Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and the villains gallery. That's it.

No Barbara, no Jason, no Tim, no Damian, Steph, Cass, Duke, Lucius, Tim Fox, Kate, Talia - there's no one then.

But suppose we go back on that statement and say 'well actually, the creators of new characters', which still doesn't make sense but let's go with that. Then major plots wouldn't happen. Because Max Allan Collins and Chris Warner created Jason Todd but Judd Winick is the one who brought him back to life. Marv Wolfman and Pat Broderick created Tim Drake but Alan Grant wrote a lot of the Robin comic and Batman comic characterization for him.

It's physically impossible to say that just because other people continued the series, the comics can't be taken seriously.

Comics are the source material. Of which fanfics are based on.

The Star Trek and Star Wars book series are written by multiple different authors but that doesn't mean that what's written doesn't happen or isn't true or is wrong. The 39 Clues and Doctor Who series are the same deal.

Batman comics are canon. Because if only the works of the original authors of Batman were to be considered canon, then practically everyone in the Batman universe doesn't exist/doesn't matter. Because they're just fanfic then.

But this idea doesn't just stop at the Batman fandom anymore because every comic was written this way. The people in Superfam? Gone. Flashfam? Gone. Arrowfam? Gone. Like this logic doesn't just apply to Batman, it applies to virutally every character in the existence of DC.

The beauty of comics is seeing how the next writer will continue the story. Sometimes they're right, sometimes they need tweaking, and sometimes they're wrong although that's usually very rare.

The problem with fandom's view on comic writing is the belief that whatever the authors create must match our perspective of the characters. That's wrong. Their characterization is what we should be adding on/building on to our perspective of the characters. Unless there is something so wrong, something so illogical, that it must be noted because that character has never acted that way before, then we must discard or critisize a comic.

Comics develop. Characters develop. Each writer brings something new and adds a layer of depth to each character they write about. That's how we get new interactions, new relationships, new sides that make each character interesting.

Take the original Dick Grayson comic and his intro to Robin

Detective Comics (1937) Issue #38

Dick originally wanted to go to the police. He had no intention of going after Tony Zucco but Bruce is the one who demands they go after him together by themselves!

I love this version created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger, but I also love the version created by a completely different author where Dick decides to stake out Zucco on his own. Both versions show different sides of him and authors sometimes even choose which one they want to include. Some have gone with this version where Dick tries to go to the police before being interrupted by Bruce and others have gone with the second, more famous version. But neither of them are bad and you can't say that the one where Dick goes after Tony Zucco is fanfiction. It's canon. If it's written in comics, it happened unless there's some disastrous, glaring contradiction.

You have to understand, these comics - especially Dick and Bruce's - are nearly 100 years old. Dick, and it's wild to think about this, existed before even the Justice League did. Wonder Woman, Green Arrow, and Aquaman were all created after him. If the orginial writers stopped writing, and noone picked it up, there would be no Justice League and that's a problem because the Justice League is one of the foundations of the DC comics.

So much has changed in a century and new writers constantly come in to show that change. That's why comics after the original writers finish writing are still canon and important. The original characterizations of all these major players were all super peppy and cheerful before new writers added angst and drama to their backstories. Bruce and Dick used to laugh and grin when they went crime fighting with no sadness or anger or other emotions. It wasn't until a couple decades later where writers started writing that in which is how we get the grim avenger Batman today.

Here's the third point to why they're relevant even though they're written by new authors: the passage of time in real life, is included in canon comics characterizations.

One comic talks about Dick discussing the Joker and he says, "at the beginning, it was just all fun and games. He would cause problems but at the end of the day it was a game. But one day, things went too far. People got shot. That day, the Joker changed. He was darker and evil. It wasn't games anymore."

This comic panel talks about the Golden Age to now, the progression and development of characters.

The comics and reality are inseparable because reality is literally written in. The works of writers after the orignal ones aren't arbitrary or some whimsical thing.

It's very different from fanfiction because fanfiction has no need to stick to the truth or canon characterization but these comic writers do because they have an obligation to do so. The only problem they might have is accidentally focusing too much on one aspect of a character and neglecting the other parts but almost none of them are way off the mark.

So no, for the sake of characterization, personality development, plot events, and new interactions, all comics are extremely important and definitely canon. Us readers might have different opinions and thoughts on them but it's irrelevant in the face of the fact that the comics are the only truth to which we can base our interpretations on.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I've been reading some of your homestuck essays, I think they're really good! I would like to know what you think about post-retcon homestuck and the interactions between reader and author throughout homestucks publishing. I was not in the fandom at the time of it being published, but I find this to be a very interesting aspect of the comic!

I was only on the fringes of the fandom at the time, but even that was enough to recognize that the fandom was absolutely awful. Every bad story you've heard about the Steven Universe, Voltron, and Undertale fandoms has its roots in the Homestuck fandom.

Pretty much as soon as the webcomic got popular on Tumblr, Hussie was put under intense scrutiny for basically every decision they ever made ever. I'm not going to say that Hussie was a perfect individual who never did anything wrong, because Hussie is a human being and that's how it works, but it's basically impossible to overstate how much the fandom tried to make an enemy out of Hussie.

The fandom was convinced that Hussie was their personal LE, and that attitude continues to this day - like, for an easy example of the fandom harassing Hussie for Literally Anything, when he stated that all trolls were bi/pan, to the point where they didn't have specific words for single-gender attraction, comparing it to a "more exacting preference" like somebody who only dates fat people - but that even within that framework, Kanaya was undoubtedly a lesbian character - people insisted Hussie was being homophobic. Fucking homophobic! For confirming all trolls are bi/pan, except Kanaya, who's a lesbian!

Other examples include: calling Hussie homophobic for John saying he wasn't a homosexual and Karkat literally not knowing what a homosexual was, because again, all trolls are bi/pan. Calling Hussie racist for making the kids aracial but accidentally leaving references to Dave having pale/pink skin in (because Hussie is a biased human person who can't be perfect and who did try to be more inclusive as the comic went on). Deciding that the dancestors served no purpose except for Hussie to be mean to their audience. Like there are valid criticisms to be made of Homestuck, but anything that was valid, nuanced, or thoughtful was drowned under a deluge of incoherent accusations of every -ism and -phobia that the fandom could possibly muster, the fandom as a whole racing to see who could paint Hussie as the biggest monster, even as they were harassing them to make more Homestuck.

Not to mention this was the era of rampant, unchecked ship wars and fandom misogyny. Not that fandom misogyny has gone away, mind you, but it's slightly more in check now. This was the era of fandom where it was normal to be sent death threats for shipping the "wrong" ship, and fandom ship wars were often encouraged by media of the time (love triangles were HOT - think zutara vs. kataang, team jacob/team edward, danny fenton/sam manson vs. danny fenton/valerie grey) because it drove up engagement. Homestuck was not really interested in shipping wars and love triangles - while many characters had circuitous routes and false starts, many were also pretty clearly set up to have specific endgame ships. But the fandom wasn't trained to behave that way, and the troll quadrants + canonical bi/pan trolls + active role of romance in the story meant that the ship wars were brutal - and also, Hussie was getting harassed every step of the way for not making peoples' favorite ships canon, a major part of a larger trend of people constantly ragging on Hussie for things not going the way they wanted plot-wise, to the point where Hussie had to comment on it constantly on his Formspring.

And don't think I forgot about the fandom misogyny! Here's a hot take for the class: Vriska is literally just Girl Zuko. She's ostensibly a noble from an imperialistic, warmongering, fascist society with an abusive parent who raised her with strict expectations, who thinks she has to act much more evil and more tough than she feels in order to earn the approval of her parent/society, and who secretly has misgivings and feels really bad about it and was set up for a redemption arc.

And people HATED Vriska. Vriscourse was so bad that many Homestuck fan spaces banned talking about Vriska at ALL, because just the mere mention of her name would spark massive, endless flame wars as people argued whether or not she deserved her little redemption arc (spoilers: yes, it turns out death is cheap in Homestuck and characters changing, growing, and becoming better is a huge part of the story) or whether or not she was justified in doing the things she did. Genuinely, I think a huge part of this intense hatred and anger was just misogyny. God forbid women have Zuko's character arc.

It was also part of two other large trends in the fandom - the first was that, despite finding every possible reason to call Hussie -ist and -phobic they could, the fandom itself was, ummm... "of its time." For example, the original March Eridan stuff was pretty clearly meant to be funny because, look, man in a dress! Isn't it sooo funny when Eridan wears a dress? (No hate to the artist, this was a long time ago and I'm sure they're a different person now.) The fandom was also constantly goading Hussie on WRT which characters were fat, and while we can argue about whether Hussie is fatphobic because none of the characters are canonically drawn to be fat, I'm going to go to bat for them on this: people treat the Fat Vriska jokes as though Hussie is the creepy weirdo exclusively, but the fandom was goading them on and thought that shit was hilarious, because that was what early internet fandom was like a lot of the time - at the same time as it harassed and decried creators for being problematic, it would turn around and delight in shitting on women, neurodivergent people, POC, and fat people, and Homestuck was rampant with it.

The second trend the Vriscourse was a part of was one that also hasn't fully gone away, but it's better now - wilful ignorance of the actual comic's contents. I'm not talking about the usual fandom fare of noncanon ships or "x character is trans/autistic/etc. even though I know there's no canon basis," which is all pretty damn harmless, but I mean like, memes and fanon would override canon and you would be outright harassed for not playing along. There are STILL places to this day that will call you an actual fascist, genocide liker, evil and irredeemable, etc. if you try to stick up for Eridan, even though Eridan is actually the LEAST casteist highblood and his entire character arc is about how his shitty fascist society makes him deeply anxious and unhappy. Similarly, you can/definitely would be be harassed for saying you don't like March Eridan and/or think it's OOC (it is), and I have nothing but sympathy for Gamzee and Equius fans, who also get it really bad.

The most vocal parts of the fandom, if not the majority, were people who were generally uninterested in engaging with Homestuck on Homestuck's terms, instead dead set on making up a version of it in their head and harassing people who disagreed, including Hussie. Echoes of that persist to this day - Equius, Gamzee, and Eridan get it bad, but practically none of the trolls have fandom interpretations that actually line up with who they are - Kanaya is actually just Eridan's bully (and did nothing to help Tavros after she caught Vriska kissing him), but people portray her as Nice Team Mom. Feferi is a casteist hypocrite who loves classism and calling people the r-slur, but people portray her as bubbly equality lady. So on and so forth. Like, damn, I barely participate in fandom and I'm out here meeting people who think Karkat ACTUALLY hates his friends like he says he does.

And then, of course, these people went and harassed Hussie because actual Homestuck did not match up with the Homestuck that existed only in their own heads.

On top of all the fandom harassment, Hussie was also facing ballooning scope. Most of Homestuck was a single dude drawing, writing, and animating it, and they would update every two or three days, sometimes less. So from the get-go, Homestuck was an INSANE project that demanded an insane amount of work and time from Hussie, and as it went on, it only got worse - and fandom expectations only got bigger. Suddenly, Hussie had to be in charge of merchandise, in charge of vetting, hiring, directing, and paying third-party artists, planning animations months if not years in advance, creating entire sections of the comic that had GAMEPLAY, directing ACTUAL GAMES, etc. ... there's an argument to be made that Hussie should not have taken on a workload they couldn't manage, but at the same time, the fandom certainly wasn't telling them to slow down. If anything, they harassed Hussie for every update, and were furious when hiatuses needed to happen to plan and execute some of the bigger moments later in the comic.

There's a Sarah Z video out there on the creation of the Homestuck game, which I think is OK if you take into account that Sarah kind of has fandom brain and is a little biased against Hussie (and I guess Hussie did send a spurious legal threat which is pretty funny but, y'know, understandable that Sarah would be peeved), where it's really clear that Hussie was not ready for the kind of responsibility, time, and effort needed to manage a whole-ass video game.

So by the time Game Over and the Retcon roll around, you basically have to imagine that Hussie has so many irons in the fire that the furnace is about to pop like a balloon, and the people they were making the damn things for in the first place have been relentlessly harassing them for YEARS, and weren't even that interested in engaging with the actual story in the first place. I'd say the majority of the fandom to this day STILL does not understand Eridan - how do you think they would've taken his redemption arc, and especially the fact that he was set up to date Karkat and Roxy? Given the pattern of their behavior up to that point... they'd probably harass Hussie and call them homophobic.

This is why I genuinely cannot blame Hussie for turning on the fandom and truncating their story. Vriska got upgraded to main character and had her character development reset because fuck you, fandom, you couldn't understand her redemption arc in the first place so now you don't get one. DaveKat got (kind of) made canon but as a weird throuple with the Mayor because fuck you, fandom, you didn't appreciate any of the actual gay ships that were set up so now you're stuck with brutally OOC DaveKatMayor. Karkat and Jake have their plot threads left hanging because fuck you, fandom, you never even noticed all the prophecies and symbolism and character arcs because you were all too obsessed with screaming at women and took the dancestors as a personal insult, so now the guy who's supposed to defeat LE and the guy who's supposed to bring equality and forgiveness to all bloodlines don't even get to participate in any of the important boss battles.

People call Hussie a troll, and they really aren't. If you read their old Formspring, they're clearly deeply fucking passionate about the art of storytelling, and switch between bafflement, mild indignation, and playing along when people ask them stupid questions. But back then, they were always very serious and genuine when they answered questions asked in good faith, and I'm being 100% genuine when I say that I've learned about how to tell stories better by reading Hussie's Formspring. Over time, however, those stupid questions became more common, and often morphed into outright harassment, and in response to that, Hussie's answers became more humorous and facetious, and the fandom - who was already trying to find ANY reason to hate Hussie - started to paint Hussie as an unreliable trickster and liar who got their jollies by shitting on the fandom.

Honestly, in doing so, the fandom was what turned Hussie into exactly that. Again, I'm not saying Hussie was a perfect baby who did nothing wrong - there's a lot of stuff to critique and scrutinize about their writing, their biases, and what topics they found appropriate to joke about. However, I AM saying that they were also just a human fucking being who was trying to write a good story, who was harassed at every turn, mostly for things that actually weren't problematic at all, whose words and actions were always taken in the absolute worst possible faith, and that the fandom is not fucking faultless, and if there's anyone that I'm mad at for how bad Homestuck ended, it's the fans.

That's my hottest Homestuck take.

[nellie-elizabeth]

What We Do in the Shadows: The Finale (6x11)

It's so wild to finish watching this finale and then hop over to Tumblr to see people lamenting and grieving for this epic queer-bait on one hand, and then other people throwing a party because Nandermo is canon now, and I'm just like... what show did you all think you were watching? lol. This was a fun finale.

Cons:

This finale cemented once and for all that the Guide was pretty useless as a character, and I hate saying that because I love the actress and I wanted her to have more to do. But her final character beat is that Cravensworth's Monster is really horny for her? The alternate ending where she's a detective on the case of the vampires was really funny, and it was the first solid bit they've given Kristen Schaal all season, and that bums me out. They even get in a last mention of Nandor's feelings for the Guide, which again goes nowhere and isn't funny or clever or interesting. So that's a bummer.

Also, I want to be careful here because there's all this extra weight put on finales to be some big thing that both shatters and preserves the status quo and that's an impossible standard to live up to, but, the one thing I do wish for was a bit of a resolution or at least an escalation on the whole "the vampires have fallen down on the job of conquering the new world" plot. It's just that the season started with that, and I didn't need some gigantic world-altering payoff, but some sort of circling back in a way that felt like things ended with a bit of momentum into the nebulous future might have been nice? Not the end of the world, but whatever.

To give space to the people who are sad about Nandermo, I will say I wish this show had had a bit more of a substantial relationship to the queerness of all the characters. For all that every single one of them is casually mentioned to be sexually attracted to multiple genders in a way that's really freeing, the only core romantic relationship on the show that has story-lines and gets narrative weight, is between Nadja and Laszlo. I honestly would never have expected or even wanted this finale to be some big grand "Ross and Rachel are finally together" moment for Nandor and Guillermo, but if I reflect back over the show as a whole... yeah. I do wish the queerness of the entire cast had been slightly less incidental in some way? It's more a reflection on some adjustments they might have made over the years, rather than a complaint about this finale in and of itself.

Pros:

Honestly, as I said above, finales have such a weird heavy lift in the TV world, especially when it comes to a comedy like this show. You have two options: either the show ends with a big change, the status quo splintering off and leaving you with a bittersweet sense of time passing (i.e. Friends), or else you basically say: and things go on thusly forevermore, and even if you're not here to see it, they're still out there being themselves. And frankly for this show, any ending that wasn't a preservation of the status quo would have felt disingenuous to me. Because the core tenant for these characters is that they're vampires and they'll continue on indefinitely being who they've always been. It's the core tension of Guillermo as a character, that he's a human with the impulse to grow and change, and his chosen family is frozen in time in a way he can never fully understand or be a part of. It's the thing about the show that makes it a good sitcom, but also doesn't lend itself naturally to some big climactic moment where everything snaps together.

So what do they do with it? They go meta! The episode starts with a setup as if it's going to be about Cravensworth's Monster turning horny and offering his dick as a gift to the Guide, and what they're going to do about this situation. But then, just as everyone's discussing it and giving their cut-away interviews to camera, the documentary crew suddenly declares that they have enough footage and they're done. Everybody else takes this completely in stride, but Guillermo is devastated and confused. So many years, basically his whole adult life, he's been followed around by these cameras, he's had his life structured into narrative arcs, and now... what? What was it all for?

One of the core strengths of the "found family" thing in this show is that the jokes can keep rolling while there is actually a subtle underpinning of sweetness to certain moments. So here, nobody takes Guillermo's reaction all that seriously, they all play off the end of the documentary filming like it makes no difference at all. But, at the same time, they all do something to acknowledge Guillermo's pain in their own way, and try with the typical clumsiness of this gang of vampires to offer him something in the way of comfort. Early season Colin and Nadja and Laszlo and Nandor wouldn't even have bothered to pretend to give a shit that Guillermo is upset, but here we have Laszlo offering to play a tune on the piano, Colin giving empty platitudes and talking about the nature of found family (even though he says he lost his found family in the early twentieth century and has been forced to hang out with these people instead). You have Nadja, using her new keen insight into human psychology to explain to Nandor why Guillermo must be upset, hitting the nail on the head by remarking that Guillermo probably feels like his opportunities for growth and development have passed him by. She uses her hypnotic powers to give the audience the perfect ending they would want, and we'll get into those alternate endings a little later on. And Nandor - Nandor gives Guillermo the stage to speak to the cameras and offer his own resolution, and makes earnest entreaties for them to stay together and be partners in fighting crime.

It's silly, and they all fumble it, and it's not actually reassuring or comforting except that the very effort in and of itself proves that they care. And that proves that these vampires are capable of change, doesn't it?

Guillermo really got the Main Character treatment here at the end, which is honestly his due: he's the one who has to grapple with the documentary ending, with the knowledge that this isn't even the first time his friends have been followed by cameras, that life is cyclical and that everything he's been through isn't new or original. He has to come to terms, in a meta sense, that he's a character in a sitcom. And so he goes for the sentimental ending: he helps put Nandor down to rest in his coffin one last time, acting as a familiar in all ways, and then he tells Nandor goodbye: that it's time for him to move on. He calls Nandor "Master" and when Nandor says he doesn't have to do that, Guillermo says: "I know. But you'll always be Master to me." And then he closes the coffin, slowly and with finality. Both actors give genuinely solemn and touching performances in this moment.

The end.

Of course, a camera still rolling in the corner of the room picks it up when Guillermo doubles back right away, interrupting the crew packing up their equipment. Nandor is pleased to see that Guillermo hasn't left after all, and Guillermo explains that he just wanted to give a satisfying conclusion to the documentary. He has no intention of leaving Nandor! And Nandor treats him as a friend and an equal, inviting him to share his coffin (although not, ostensibly, in a sexy way). Turns out, despite Guillermo's worries that the whole crime fighting thing was a whim and that he'd have to do all of the work, Nandor has actually been working hard on his secret underground lair, accessible only through a secret coffin-shaped tunnel through the earth. Our last glimpse of Nandor and Guillermo in the narrative proper is the two of them plunging through the earth in a coffin together, on their way to Super Hell. Or, I mean, their secret underground lair from which they'll fight crime.

I loved it, honestly. Guillermo's awareness of narrative convention, this whole season being about him stepping back and making his own choices, and then Nandor asking for Guillermo to come back, and Guillermo ending up where he wants to be without any false promises between him and Nandor. They are not a Master and his Familiar. They are friends, and equals, and it was honestly exactly the ending that makes sense for these two. A balancing point between the stagnation inherent in a character like Nandor, for whom change is almost impossible, and a character like Guillermo who had to go on a whole journey to figure out where he wanted to end up.

And then, we've got to talk about Nadja's three proposed "perfect" endings for the viewer. She hypnotized us into three parodies: the first is a Bob Newhart thing, where Nandor wakes up next to his husband Guillermo in bed, having had a crazy dream that encompasses the whole plot of What We Do in the Shadows. I saw some people saying that this was "making fun" of the viewers who shipped these characters, but like, guys, this show is nothing but making fun of everyone. It's all that, it's all jokes, it's all goofy. We got to hear some version of Nandor call Guillermo "honey," we got to see Guillermo kiss Nandor on the cheek. It made me giggle, it was so delightfully absurd. And it really revealed that the creators of the show understand what the Nandermo part of their audiences were picking up on - it's saying, yeah, some of you wanted this as an ending, but can't you see that the two of them having some grand romance at the last second would be genre-and-tone-breaking? I loved the line where Nandor was saying that in his dream, he and the other vampires all were having a lot of sex with each other, and "not you, Guillermo." Amazing.

The other alt "endings" provided by Nadja, available at least on Hulu as extra features, are great also... and I saw by reading some of the reviews of this episode that it seems people genuinely got different endings somehow when watching live - people reacted to the Nandermo Bob Newhart thing as one of the "alts," but I saw it as the actual content of the episode. The reviews that I saw all had the "Usual Suspects" ending as the one in the actual episode, with the others as the alts. That is fantastically troll-worthy behavior and SUCH a good note to go out on, the idea that some people might see one of the three endings and genuinely not know there's more out there. Through these endings we get to see Sean and Derek and some other frequent guest characters play bit parts, which is a fun way to give some of the extended cast a last hurrah.

I want to end by saying that if you're feeling hurt or betrayed by how this show ends, I want to honor that feeling as legitimate to you. But for my personal take? I don't think this show did anything wrong. Like, politically or structurally or tonally. My personal opinion is that this has always been an irreverent show where nothing really matters and nothing really changes, and this finale managed to actually feel like a sweet sendoff to the characters. Evidence of growth like I mentioned above, as this vampire family actually does make space for Guillermo's feelings, albeit in an unconventional and insufficient way. But this was never going to be a show where everybody got suddenly sentimental and sincere and confessed their deep personal truths to each other. It's a show that might wink at you, that might have Nandor say he's glad they won't be on film anymore, that might have Guillermo hopefully pushing to find out what he means by that... but that will always end with Nandor not picking up what Guillermo is putting down, that will always have another silly punchline waiting around the corner. This is a show that made me smile and felt really special in how bizarre it could get. And I did feel, on a genuine, emotional level, like this was the perfect way to end the show for Nandor and Guillermo's relationship.

As Nadja says, nothing is going to change - they'll keep on doing what they've always done, but now there will be nobody to film them doing it. And as Laszlo says, "We’ve had lots of laughs. Sucked lots of blood. And then fucked each other senseless."

This final episode gets high marks from me!

9/10

And the show as a whole, I don't feel like there's much more to say that hasn't been said above, which is probably another sign of a good finale: this was a real wrap-up of the chaotic and goof-ball energy of one of my favorite comedy outings of all time. It kept me good company these past few years, and Guillermo de la Cruz is always going to be a Character of All Time in my book. I'm sad to say goodbye, but what a send-off!

8/10

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Sidekick_Hero! @sidekick-hero has 82 works on AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 80 of them are in the Steddie tag!

@steddieas-shegoes recommends the following works by Sidekick_Hero:

I wore his jacket for the longest time

Suitcase of Memories

to the rhythm of eternity

Will you cleanse me with pleasure?

Sandy is an incredible writer and always manages to paint beautiful scenes regardless of rating or situation. She was one of the first authors I found in the fandom who really captured so many things about Steve and Eddie that I love. She continues to inspire me constantly! -- @steddieas-shegoes

Below the cut, @sidekick-hero answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Great question! I'd been out of fandom and on a writing hiatus since 2016, the spark had just left me. Until early 2023, when I wanted to give Tumblr and fandom another try, but nothing really clicked until late summer when this wild-haired, bambi-eyed guy started popping up on my dash more and more. I fell in love with Eddie first, looked him up, and found that people were shipping him with this Steve character. I've never seen Stranger Things. I went to AO3 looking for some fic and the rest, as they say, is history. I fell in love with this ship the way you fall asleep, slowly, imperceptibly, and then all at once. I think what drew me in is these two characters who are so different from each other on the outside that you'd never think they'd work, but the closer you look, the more you can see how well they would fit, how good they could be for each other, bringing out the best in each other.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Wow, so many. I actually love the range of tropes this fandom offers. I'm a big fan of modern aus, especially ones where one or both are famous. If it's canon-based, I'm a sucker for Kas!Eddie. In general, I love it when one or both are creatures of any kind. I also love friends with benefits fics because they are idiots. Enemies to Lovers and Fake Dating are also high on my list. Last but not least: Porn with feelings and hurt/comfort.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

That's tough. I enjoy writing all kinds of smutty tropes as one-shots. When there's more plot going on, I really enjoy the "exes to friends to lovers" trope, just because as someone in their 30s, I look back on past relationships and hookups and realize what went wrong and how it could be different today, and I think that's something I can relate to a lot when I'm writing it for Steddie. I also love writing about second chances in general.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s impossible to pick just one, sorry. I give you three with the disclaimer that there are so many more I could - and probably would - have picked on a different day. But I wanted to share some older ones in the spirit of what this blog is all about. the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway is that it’s you by greatunironic Keep it Steady, Eddie by outofmygourd Love blooms, love hurts, love prevails by corrodedbisexual (mishabawlins)

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Yes! I definitely want to explore some fantasy/creature fics (more outside of a pwp I wrote with Lake Creature Eddie), I already have the idea for Werewolf!Steve, and I really want to try my hand at Vampire!Eddie. I'm also super excited to finally get to work on a fake-dating trope fic for the summer exchange, I've been dying to do that. Last but not least, I really want to try writing an omega!verse at some point, I just don't have an idea yet.

What is your writing process like?

Pretty straightforward, I guess? It never really feels like a process, to be honest. I have an idea and I let it grow in my head (daydreaming, my beloved) until it has grown enough to become an actual fic, and then I sit down and write it out chronologically. Before I start writing, I need to know a few things about the story. I don't usually work with outlines or anything like that, but in my head I know where it starts, what the emotional beats and major plot points are, and how I want it to end. The rest I let unfold as I write. That's why I'm not the fastest writer (plus the whole not-native-English thing). Often the story tells me where it wants to go, so as long as I have the cornerstones, I let it flow.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Not sure if these are quirks, but my sentences tend to be very wordy. My dear friend @yournowheregirl used to comment on my fics when she beta-read them, "Another Sandy sentence. Make it multiple sentences." Also, I only write in present tense, even though I know most people prefer past tense, but it's too hard for me. Other than that, I can't have too many WIPs, I have to finish one story before I can start another.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Post when I'm done writing, for sure. I hate waiting, I have the patience of a toddler.

Which fic are you most proud of?

I wore his jacket for the longest time, no question.  It's still so precious to me, especially because I got to write it with my platonic writing soulmate @legitcookie, but also because I got to really explore these characters and their growth in this story. It has so much of me in it and I'm really proud of how it turned out.

How did you get the idea for I wore his jacket for the longest time?

Actually, it wasn't all me. I just had this idea of them being kind of friends with benefits, but Eddie wants more than Steve is willing to give him, so they hook up one last time before Eddie sends Steve away for good. That was the original idea that inspired the prequel "we pass the ghosts that haunt us later". The idea for that actually came from a song, "we can never be friends" by mgk. Jen (legitcookie) would not accept the ambiguous (sad) ending, so she demanded that we fix it. So we decided to find a way to let them both grow as people apart and then rebuild their friendship, because only then would they have a real foundation for their second chance.

When writing I wore his jacket for the longest time, what was something you didn’t expect?

How much fun it would be to develop those OC side-characters, especially Mrs. Horowitz but also fucking Tom or even Fritz. It was also the very first time I collaborated with someone on a fic and I was a bit apprehensive if this would work out so I was surprised when I discovered how much I love writing with someone else.

What inspired to the rhythm of eternity?

My love for London, really. I am madly in love with this city and have explored it a lot, so I wanted to use my experiences in a fic. And when @tboygareth asked for a long distance relationship fic for our server holiday exchange, I knew this was my chance. Their meeting as well as the ending is heavily based on my own experiences.

What was your favorite part to write from Suitcase of Memories?

The dreams! They were so much fun to explore because there's a certain mood I wanted to set with them, that dreamy feeling mixed with events from another time period. Their first date and especially their first kiss is a close second, though, because the swing set scene is something I've been thinking about since I saw 13 going on 30 as a teenager.

How do/did you feel writing Suitcase of Memories?

To be totally honest, a bit stressed 😀 It was my first big bang and I was so glad to have Jen by my side, but then real life happened and I realized it's hard to write on deadline. BUT I still love this fic. Especially the theme of love as a choice, even if some cosmic interference gives you a second chance, you still have to WANT it, you still have to work for it and choose it, over and over again. I feel like we nailed that pretty well and I'm proud of us and this story.

What was the most difficult part of writing Will you cleanse me with pleasure??

The emotional setup, because it was a gift for Ger (@steves-strapcollection) and he wanted them to be disgustingly in love, but I also needed Eddie's condition to be something he kept from Steve at first for fear of losing him. Besides that, the logistics, really. So many tentacles, man. So many.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Okay, some very, very self-indulgent scenes I wrote are for my Runner!Steve verse. I am a passionate runner, and it was so much fun to write that love for Steve and to geek out about it in my writing. Another scene I'm very fond of is from my very first ST fic, "I'm tired of asking to settle the debt," and it's a scene where they're both kids and meeting for the first time, it's winter, and Eddie is doing an impression of a dragon with his breath.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Well, by the time this comes out, I will have posted my reverse big bang fic "Emotional Motion Sickness" with art by the amazing @arimakes. There's also the summer exchange, in which I was lucky enough to claim my dear friend @starryeyedjanai's prompt, and the steddie big bang 2024. I'm also finishing the last chapter of "hold me close (I'm shaking apart)" and hope to post it soon. 

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Yes, I want to thank everyone for making this project possible! This fandom has grown so much and there is so much amazing fic that easily gets buried under all the content, so having this project to give the writers of this fandom some visibility and love is precious to me. Thank you, really 💜🙏 Also, all my love to every single writer out there - you make my life and the lives of so many better by sharing your gift with us.

Thank you to our author,  Sidekick_Hero, and our nominator,  @steddieas-shegoes on tumblr! See more of Sidekick_Hero's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[snnrinc]

Codename: ROOK

Now completed on AO3!

Ch. 1 /11- Outside Contractual Obligations [AO3 Portal]

— PAIRING : Dabi/Touya Todoroki x F!Reader x Hawks/Keigo Takami

— WARNINGS : NSFW (Not in this chapter), Noir AU, No Quirk AU, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M, Drugs Blood and Violence, Crime Scenes, Organized Crime, Murder, Eventual Smut, Cunnilingus, Double Penetration, Masturbation, Analingus, Mildly Dub-Con, Not Canon Compliant, AFAB reader, She/her pronouns for reader

— SUMMARY : Being a police officer in a city where crime runs high and respect is non existent has got to be one of the shittiest jobs you've ever had. But it pays the bills. However, once you and detective Keigo Takami are assigned a case that deals with the murder of a prolific law enforcer and the subsequent chain of disappearances happening all over Musutafu, you realise that having your bills up to date is most definitely not worth all the danger you're up against. Especially when that danger is named Dabi, one of the most sought after criminals that you've been trying to catch red handed for years. Nonetheless, this is your only opportunity to make your job finally mean something, so you and Keigo decide to go undercover right in the jaws of peril, its razor sharp teeth waiting to bite into your neck like a guillotine. But you won't back out now, will you, officer? Good luck on the job, codename Rook.

— NOTES : This was supposed to be a smutty one shot I have no idea what the fuck happened. It's been gathering dust in my Docs for over a year and yet this is the only chapter I have 💀 I left notes for myself saying "don't go overboard with the plot because the point is for them to FUCK" and now here we are. It definitely worked. For sure... Still hope you enjoy!

“A big-name agent of ours went missing a few months ago. No trace of his whereabouts until a couple weeks ago, when his body was found in the dumpster behind a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Well, parts of it anyway.”

The man in front of you took a final puff from his dying cigarette and promptly extinguished it in the ashtray in front of him, right next to a bowl of sweets with generic labels. He exhaled the smoke in billows and it vanished in the air, lingering with a pungent smell of tobacco and an awful chocolate flavouring. Your nose scrunched up slightly and you resisted the urge to cough.

“We have no evidence left at the crime scene and the body being chopped up makes it near impossible to determine the murder weapon,” he continued. “We have some of our best agents dealing with the autopsy and the case as a whole, but no clear suspects so far.”

“This seems like highly classified information. So why are you telling me this?”

You closed the file you were handed and placed it back on the desk, eyes shifting to detective Enji Todoroki sitting across from you, watching the way his eyebrows dropped down just a little in an expression that seemed to almost be judging your intelligence.

Really, you felt like you should be the one judging here.

To say you were confused would be an understatement. When you were called into Enji's office, you had assumed you did something wrong on the job, since most people in your workplace seemed to overlook you even when it came to small tasks. Sometimes you felt that if you wouldn't turn up to work one day, no one would notice. Usually, you didn't mind — being invisible meant you could do your work in peace without being bothered by unnecessary small talk or the occasional office drama that you sometimes overheard in the break room. You were just an officer, one of the lowest ranks in the force, so the only time you expected any attention was when something went wrong.

When Enji personally came to look for you before you went on patrol for your shift you felt your stomach drop. Yes, the job sucked a good majority of the time, since you noticed you were often not taken seriously by your colleagues, sometimes probably even considered a liability when dealing with more violent cases. But like any other person roaming the earth, you still had rent to pay and food to buy if you wanted to continue existing, and working for the Public Safety Commission ensured you did just that and still had some money left for your more frivolous wants. Straightening your back, you followed Enji to his office, every bad scenario playing in your mind only getting worse when, as soon as you sat down, he dropped a file containing the case details on the desk in front of you, pushing it forward in a silent prompt for you to read it.

And now here you were, bombarded with information about a murder you were pretty sure you were not qualified to deal with, at least judging by your contractual obligations. You had half a mind to ask if you'd be getting paid more if you worked on the case, but you bit your tongue from the overwhelming feeling of uneasiness creeping up your spine.

“Of course, I don't expect you to understand things so quickly.” You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his comment. “But surely you've gathered by now that you have been assigned as an assistant to this case.”

“That much is obvious,” you couldn't help but retort. “The question is still why?”

“I was meant to be assigned to this case, but the crime rate has spiked in recent months. I have bigger issues to deal with, so the Commission decided that we need someone that can slip under the radar.”

Ah, so they just needed some cannon fodder. Part of you thought you should've expected as much from the Commission.

“I still think I'm terribly underqualified to be working on this case.”

Enji leaned back into his chair, tapping one of his armrests with his index finger. “So do I, but you'll be working under detective Takami.” He heaved a sigh and allowed a sarcastic undertone to lace his voice, “Who should've been here to give you a quick overview of the case progression so far, but who are we to count on his punctuality?”

Wait a second, working under who?

You blinked and did a double take at him, replaying his words in your mind as if trying to dissect their meaning. This was fantastic in the worst possible way. Not only did you practically have a murder case of a prominent agent dropped into your inexperienced and unsuspecting arms, you were now the right hand of the second best detective of the Commission, Keigo Takami.

If only you had these kinds of odds bestowed upon you if you played the lottery, surely you'd have won enough to ditch this job.

You thought back to what Enji had just revealed to you and couldn't shake the feeling that there was a different reason why they would ask an officer to help with this case, other than just “slipping under the radar”. With one of the best detectives taking over, you figured the Commission wouldn't be stupid enough to allow someone like you to get in the way of the investigation.

As the questions multiplied in your mind, your tongue was tied, unable to figure out a way to put your doubts into words, especially since you knew Enji would do nothing to soothe them.

There was a knock on the door breaking your train of thought, before it opened to reveal detective Takami, an easygoing smile etched on his lips, his gloved hands buried inside the pockets of his shearling jacket, with only one coming up to push his aviator sunglasses that were resting on the bridge of his nose to the top of his head.

“Sorry I missed the introductions,” he said, “but I'm sure we weren't called here just to chat.”

“At last you grace us with your presence, detective. A little while longer and our officer here would've taken over the case in your stead.”

You whipped your head towards Enji, almost ready to ask him if he was serious, before you looked back at Keigo to see him meet your gaze.

“I'm Keigo Takami, it's a pleasure to meet you.” He gave you a charming smile and extended his hand for you to shake. You grasped it firmly and introduced yourself. “So, were you one of the first responders at the scene?”

“Actually,” Enji interjected, “the officer is unfamiliar with the case at the moment, save for the basic details.”

“Oh?” Keigo frowned in confusion.

“As of today, this is your new assistant in this case.”

Keigo blinked a few times, then shook his head and huffed a laugh. “I'm sorry. What? An officer? Not that I mean to doubt your judgement or anything, but isn't this case a little too sensitive for an officer to deal with?” He turned towards you. “No offence.”

“None taken, I'm a little confused myself.”

Enji sighed and massaged his temple with one hand before he leaned forward. “You see, your role in this case will be a little more... 'hands-on' than usual. I mentioned we don't have any concrete suspects, but we do have an idea of the organisation that might be responsible for the murder, which is why we need to employ your help for the investigation.”

“I don't see how this is anything new,” Keigo said. “We've been investigating the League for a while, they operate in this area. Tying them to this murder would be the most obvious first step.”

“The League?” you interfered.

Enji raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you familiar with them?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your eyes shifted between the two men watching you. “They've made a name for themselves amongst the police officers. We've been trying to catch a few of them in the act but they always slip away.”

“Unsurprising for the police force,“ Enji scoffed and you frowned. “Let's hope we won't have the same disappointing results in this case. We have no time to waste on pathetic failures.”

Keigo looked at you from the corner of his eye and noticed the way your shoulders tensed up. He leaned over and dug his hand into the bowl of sweets on the desk, effectively catching both of your attentions. With a fistful of candy, he resumed his questions for Enji who was dishing out your responsibilities.

“So is this about the NOMU Program?”

Enji's eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that program? It's classified information, even for you.”

Keigo shrugged and shoved some more candy into his mouth. “If it is about that, I'd argue that's even more reason why we shouldn't drag an officer into this.”

“Sorry,” you interjected. “What is the NOMU Program?”

“Don't concern yourself with things outside of your duties,” Enji snapped.

“Come now, let's be courteous with our colleague,” Keigo said with a light-hearted tone before turning to you. “It's a codename used by the League. We figured it stands for Network of Metahumanoid Units. A fancy name that's probably got to do with their attempts at reanimating corpses.”

Fuck, so now you were dealing with zombies? Sure, technology as a whole was impressive, but it was nowhere near sophisticated enough to bring someone back from the dead. As far as you knew, every attempt to reverse death was futile. So then why would someone bother?

Enji noticed the confusion in your eyes and spoke before you could ask any questions. "They're planning to use them as weapons. Keigo called them corpses because essentially that's what they are: on the brink of brain death.”

“The only reason why they don't collapse is because the League is pumping them full of a drug called Trigger that boosts their baser powers,” Keigo continued, earning an annoyed glare from Enji at how readily he presented the classified information to you. “We've only had a few attacks reported so far, and we weren't sure what exactly we were dealing with, so we had our top agents deployed to deal with them. Which is why the police weren't mobilised.”

“Sounds like a pretty important omission to me,” you countered with a frown. “So is this what we're dealing with here? Drugged up zombies?”

“We're still unsure,” Keigo answered. “If this victim was supposed to be part of the NOMU Program, then we wouldn't have a body cut up into pieces on our hands. Maybe they're trying to send a message.”

“That's where you two come in," Enji announced. "This time, you will not be dealing with any forensic analysis, suspect interrogation or evidence collection. Instead, you two will act as our eyes and ears and infiltrate the League.”

An insurmountable amount of pressure crashed over you and clenched your muscles in a vice grip, to the point where you almost felt as if it would crack your bones at any moment. You tried to control your expression in an attempt to stop your shock from washing over your face, but surely the vein that started throbbing painfully in your temple was enough proof.

“Hold on.” You raised your hand again to signal for Enji to slow down. “You mean to tell me you called me here to act as your spy?”

Enji scowled. “I don't like it either. They shouldn't send a rookie in for such a big case. I should've been the lead, but it wasn't my decision to make, so I suggest you suck it up and do your job.”

Your voice was exasperated, “There are so many ways that this could go wrong if you send me out there! I'd just hold detective Takami back!”

“I have to agree,” Keigo said. “It's best if I work on my own as usual.”

“Well you see, Takami, things are not so easy in this line of work,” Enji snarled, then produced two folders from his briefcase and stood up, handing them to you and Keigo. “Commission's orders and instructions. Read them thoroughly. Good luck with the mission detective, officer.”

And with that, he stepped out of the room and you felt as if all oxygen made an exit along with him, your heart pounding in your chest so hard you could almost hear it through the grave silence that fell over the room as you read the instructions:

“Officer,

As of today you will refer to yourself as Rook and to your mission partner as Hawks. Forget your real name. Return your weapons, badge, uniform and any other equipment that may be in your possession at the reception of the PCS HQ.

While infiltrated do not contact anyone outside including family members, friends, acquaintances and other PSC employees except for your partner.

You will not have any accolades attached to your name. Your achievements will not be disclosed by the PSC if you succeed. You will receive no posthumous awards if you die. This is your duty to fight for the people. Failure to comply could result in dismissal, sanctions and/or prosecution.

Destroy this document after reading.”

This job was so not worth it.

You watched the grainy screen of the tube TV perched in a corner of the office intently, listening to the news broadcasted somberly by the anchor along with your colleagues. Keigo was by your side, expertly twirling a pen in his fingers, but his focus was zeroed in on the screen, his nose and mouth buried in the raised collar of his jacket.

After the discovery of the body of the Commission's agent, the disappearances around Musutafu increased by a concerning margin. What was worse was that not all of them were agents, some were simply civilians that seemingly had powerful or useful builts and abilities, like the person whose face was now on the screen, their name, last known location and clothes they were last seen wearing listed underneath the picture.

You crossed your arms over your chest and frowned. If this was what you were dealing with, even with your training and experience you were unsure how you'd survive as a double agent. You had no special skill, no upper-hand tactic and you couldn't rely on Keigo—Hawks—for fear that you'd hold him back and compromise the mission.

With how they had you bring back anything that would suggest you'd ever had any contact with the Commission, it really seemed as if they were trying to erase any trace of your existence. This job was all you had, all you ever worked for since you were just a bright-eyed trainee at the police academy, ready to take on any danger coming your way if it meant you could save someone else from it.

How naïve.

Maybe you should've just given up when you were still a child, still able to choose a path that would fit you and your capabilities more. The society in which you lived was unforgiving to weak people, so you had to adapt. But women were not always respected in the police force, and those who were got there because of their network rather than their own abilities more often than not. Not to mention that a police officer's chances of advancing without having someone behind them were close to none.

In other words, there was no way out for you. But at least you weren't exactly the perfect catch for whatever the League was planning, by the looks of things.

From the fog of your worries, you felt Hawks tap your shoulder to catch your attention. His collar was now pushed down neatly and you could see the serious way in which his lips were pursed. He gestured with his head for you to follow him and you complied with a nod.

You reached his office, after stopping by your desk to collect the last bits and pieces you had left laying around, and sat down in front of his desk, one hand worriedly rubbing your chin as you looked out the window. His eyes never left you as he sat down and leaned back in his chair, the pen he was playing with earlier still in his hands. He watched carefully as your brows turned downward in a frown that casted a shadow of concern over your eyes, before he put the pen down on the desk, the sound making you turn to look at him.

“I know you're worried,” he started, “but I want you to know I won't let anything happen to you.”

You let your hands fall into your lap. “Please, don't worry about me. I don't want to be a drawback in this mission.”

“You won't be,” he said, but noticed you were unconvinced when the corner of your lip lifted in what was supposed to be a polite smile, but didn't quite reach your eyes. “You graduated as the top eighth trainee in the police academy, surpassing like, what, 22 of your classmates? That's pretty impressive.” You stared at him in a mix of confusion and surprise and he shrugged nonchalantly. “I've read your file. You've got a lot of potential, officer.”

You smiled and nodded as thanks. In the past, this kind of compliment would've left you feeling all warm and fuzzy on the inside, feeding into your pride and fuelling your determination to get even better. But now, the comment felt like tossing a coin down an endless pit, nowhere near enough to fill the hollow space in your chest and, despite its value, ultimately useless. When did your outlook on your job get so sour?

Maybe it was when you were put up for disciplinary action after attempting to stop one of your fellow officers from brutalising a murder suspect. Or maybe when you had one case shut down because the culprit was the daughter of an acclaimed attorney that somehow found the perfect team of lawyers to render the evidence null. Or maybe it was simply after you had graduated from the academy and were thrown out into the real world. Any way, perhaps this was the universe's way of making up for all the times it fucked up. By giving you a new opportunity.

You picked up the pen from Hawks's desk and fiddled with it. “Officer, huh? I thought my new name was Rook.”

Hawks chuckled. “They're really terrible at picking codenames, huh? Sounds like we're just two bird enthusiasts with no imagination.”

You chuckled at his comment and after a moment you bent down to rummage through the box in which you had collected your remaining possessions from your desk, pulling out a document. You opened it, quickly finding the file in which you and Hawks took notes about your action plan.

“So,” you started, scrolling through the notes, “you were saying you already have a way to get inside the League?”

Hawks leaned forward on his elbows to get a better look at the notes. “Well, yes and no. Enji didn't tell you this, but remember how I said we've been investigating the League for a while? Well, I've been in contact with one of the members. I managed to get close enough for him to think I'll soon defect and join them.”

“So you've been planning to go undercover for a while now?”

“It's the only way I could squeeze any information out of them. They seem pretty loyal to their cause, so getting one of them to become an informant for the PSC was highly unlikely.”

You nodded in thought. “So who's your contact?”

“A guy named Dabi.”

Your blood ran cold and your eyes shot up to Hawks. You knew that name too well. Not only was he notoriously known among the law enforcement as one of the most dangerous members of the League, but he was the person responsible for numerous counts of arson in your area, courtesy of his pyromaniacal tendencies. You'd been trying to find a way to get closer to catching him for years. Each time, he slipped out of your hands, your attempts always too late or too little.

You knew what Dabi was capable of, and without the comfort of a self defence weapon and protective equipment by your side, you feared you'd be turned to ash before you even tried to get any information out of the League.

You stared through Hawks for a few seconds. His eyes searched your expression as he frowned in confusion at your sudden change. You noticed that and blinked a few times, clearing your throat.

“So this contact is our ticket inside, but how do I get him to trust me? I think I'd be found out before I even get to talk to him.”

“No need to worry, I'll send him your way somehow. You then offer to be their informant. We'll have to act separately to avoid raising suspicion, so if we cross paths, try acting like you don't know me personally.”

You nodded in acknowledgement then remained quiet for a second before frowning in thought.

“I don't understand. If you already have an in, then why would the Commission send me to help?”

Hawks sighed. “You heard what the Commission said, you'll be the bait.” He leaned back in his chair. “The League is reluctant to let me join because I'm a well-known detective. They know who I am and what I do, but they don't know you. If you manage to convince them you're also just a crooked law enforcer, that would be the last step we need to finally get inside.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

Hawks regarded you thoughtfully, tilting his head and looking you up and down. His scrutinising eyes seemed to glow as the final rays of dusk poured through the blinds of his office window. Before he even spoke, you knew that his idea would not be to your liking.

“Say, how comfortable are you with flirting?”

[venusbyline]

Gift ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 16, oct.

— pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x servant!reader x Aemond Targaryen x Gwayne Hightower x Criston Cole

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: punishment + exhibitionism

— summary: Your bravery to face King Aegon II would be admirable, at least if he did not humiliate you in front of his brother Aemond, his uncle Gwayne and Ser Criston.

— word count: 1.9k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 16th day, female!reader, dark!Aegon, dark!Aemond, dark!Gwayne, dark!Criston, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, punishment, exhibitionism, rape/non-con, nipple playing, degradation, non-consensual touching, blood, face slapping, face punching, implied gangbang, dacryphilia, public humiliation, public nudity, crying, breast worship, body worship, sexism, oral (male receiving) mentioned, curse words, dom!Greens, sub!reader, canon divergence (Pre-The Dance of the Dragons), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole @badger-reads @turdettethefirst

— crossposting: AO3

You had not been working at the castle for a long time. Alicent had hired you just days after the coronation of her firstborn, Viserys' second child, Aegon II. She needed more servants to deal with her son's stupid demands.

You would rather have gone to the Red Keep to serve the Queen Consort, Helaena, or specifically care for hers and the new King's children. You would rather have been chambermaid to other members of the royal family, any task that you did not have to deal so directly with Aegon.

However, it was impossible. Alicent had specified that you take care of the King's private chambers. Not the matrimonial chambers, where he rarely went to sleep with the Queen, but the room where he took the Ladies, the prostitutes or even some maids. The room that was always stinking of wine, sweat and male fluids. Sometimes even his urine. You hated your work and you hated Aegon.

Alicent ordered you to clean Aegon's chambers even though he was still asleep that morning. She had not explained the reasons why you needed to clean with the King's presence still there, but you did not dare question her. You loosened the ties on your uniform as a precaution, as you already noticed how Aegon always smirked when he saw your curves accentuated by the tight fabric. Even though it was Alicent who gave you the clothes on your first day in the Red Keep, you knew very well that it was probably Aegon who demanded his mother that his servants wear only smaller and tighter sizes. After all, where would the fun be for him if they always dressed appropriately?

Upon entering the room, the smell of wine immediately hit your nostrils. You had nothing against drinking alcohol, but the strong stench present inside the room made you hope that all the wine from Westeros would one day run out.

"You look angry." The King's deep husky voice caught your attention, and you swallowed hard as you approached with the two buckets and some rags.

You ignored his words and lowered your head, positioning the buckets on the floor to begin carrying out your task. "Excuse me, Your Grace. Your Lady Mother has ordered me to clean your chambers immediately."

Still lying in bed, Aegon's sleepy eyes fell on your kneeling figure, your delicate hands cleaning the wine stains spread across the floor. Aegon did not remember very much about the night before, only that he had drunk a lot and ordered the guards to bring him some random maid for him to have fun with before bed. He wanted to ask for you, order the guards to bring you even if you were dragged by your hair.

However, he was so drunk that he could not even say the order correctly, then he had to fuck the servant his men brought. She was pretty. She was hot and had a tight cunt. But she was not you.

"You look so fucking beautiful when you are angry..." Aegon continued to tease, making you take a deep breath and look up at him. His milky white skin remained covered by the silk sheets, his blond hair was messy and probably tangled, his lips were still reddened by wine and there were dark circles under his eyes. He was quite a sight, even if you hated admitting it to yourself.

"I am not angry, My King." You went back to mopping the floor with the wet cloth, trying to ignore your thoughts and the fact that his cock was so marked under the sheet.

"Yes, you are." He chuckled, especially when you got up to clean some other part of the room. The glimpse he saw of your pretty breasts pressed into the neckline of your uniform was enough for Aegon to grab your hand, stopping you from moving to the other corner. Preventing you from continuing your task or continuing to ignore him. "Do not play that fucking shit with me. Do not you dare ignore me."

As harsh and angry as his reprimand was, you could not help but look at him with contempt. Those fingers that were inside another servant's cunt during the last night now held your wrist as if he wanted to mark you. The smell of alcohol and sex around became even stronger. "I am not ignoring you, Your Grace. I am just doing my task."

A humorless laugh escaped the King's lips. "Your task? And what would it be, uhm? To look with disgust at my chambers? Or perhaps to loosen the ties on your uniform because you know I am always looking at your body like a hungry man? Is your task to hate your King?"

Your gaze moved away from his hand squeezing your wrists and shifted to his violet eyes, his pupils so dilated when you stared at each other that you could not tell if he wanted to push you onto the bed and fuck you rough or if he he wanted to order the guards to send you to the guillotine. Perhaps both.

"My task this morning is to clean your chambers, something you, My King, are not letting me do properly."

Aegon's jaw clenched at your boldness. He was not used to receiving sharp words from his own servants. It stressed him out and turned him on with equal measure. The way you were staring at him like you wanted to kill him, the way you did not flinch from his grip, the way you ignored his other questions, and most of all... The way you did not deny that you hated him and did not even beg for forgiveness.

Aegon felt his heart accelerate with anger and his cock begin to throb with arousal. He released your arm from his hands, and brought his calloused fingers to your cheeks, caressing the soft flushed skin for a few seconds. "You are a brave little thing, you know that, my dear?" He purred, lips pulled into a dark smile, before silencing what you were about to say with a slap.

The sound of his palm hitting your face left you in disbelief and fear, your eyes wide and filled with tears as Aegon shouted for Ser Criston Cole, who was doing his daily patrol in front of the outside of the King's private chambers.

"Yes, Your Grace? What does the King desire?" Criston asked, positioning himself and looking curiously at the sight in front of him, you with a redness mark on your cheek, Aegon's fierce and at the same time sarcastic gaze. It was clear what had happened.

Aegon let out a slight chuckle before saying. "I have some things to sort out with my brother and my uncle Ser Gwayne in the Small Council room. Please take this girl there when she finishes cleaning here." Aegon murmured, getting up from the bed, letting go of the sheets and starting to walk to the washbasin, his bare ass and his boner catching your attention when he looked at Ser Criston one last time. "Take her naked, preferably. Aemond and my uncle need some distraction and fun. Just like me"

When Criston pushed you into the Small Council, a weak whine escaped your swollen cut lips from the punch he had given you a few minutes before when he had to drag you through the corridors. You flinched as you held the tray with three glasses of wine, entering the room with red cheeks, the gazes of the three men sitting at the table landing on your naked and vulnerable body.

"Your Grace..." You murmured with a sad and shy reverence, walking over to them and placing the tray on the table, handing the largest glass to King Aegon, who smirked excitedly at your presence.

"Oh, finally! My most beautiful servant!" Aegon clapped his hands before taking the drink and taking a sip, admiring the view of your ass when handed the other glasses to Aemond and Gwayne. The prince looked at you with the same cold gaze as always, although he was enjoying watching your shivering body, completely vulnerable. The knight, Aegon and Aemond's uncle, widened his eyes, taking the drink and whispering an embarrassed thanks, your breasts so close to his face. "You can sit with us, Ser Criston. I am sure my other guards will not mind."

Criston nodded silently, sitting on the chair, but remaining with a severe face as he looked at the hairs of your cunt.

The awkward silence followed for a while, despite Aegon's amused smile when he saw you standing naked next to him, your hands clasped in front of your body, waiting for any more orders.

"What did the girl do to deserve a punch on those pretty lips, Ser Criston?" The King teased, the tip of his thumb rubbing circles on your waist, an involuntary sigh escaping and making you squeeze your thighs together reflexively. Your reaction did not go unnoticed by any of the men.

"She tried to refuse to walk naked through the castle halls while I brought her here." Criston looked at you with a little anger and you lowered your head so as not to see their reactions, but Aemond let a low 'uhm' escape coldly, along with Aegon's laugh as if the royal guard had told him the best of jokes.

"Oh, I see... She is a pretty stubborn little whore. Sometimes too brave for her own good." Aegon's mockery was like a knife spinning inside your chest, further adding to the humiliation when even Gwayne Hightower smirked too.

As much as you wanted to take the dagger from Criston's armor and stab the King to death, until his blood ran all over the marble table and permanently stained the green robe he wore, you forced yourself to look at him with false regret. "Forgive me, Your Grace."

It was an absolute lie and everyone knew that, but Aegon did not address your insincerity words. He caressed your bare waist again, moving his large hand up until it rested on your nipples, playing with them for a few minutes, enjoying your pathetic whimpers and the way your body twitched, without even trying to move away. It would be worse for you if you fought his sadism.

"Do not you think she is beautiful?" Aegon's smile was macabre, his thumb and forefinger wringing the small buds becoming hard like rocks, quite reddish and painful.

Aemond and Criston let out a similar scoff, but nodded in agreement. "She is pathetic." The prince added, looking your body up and down. "But she looks better than most of the stupid maids you fuck."

Aegon chuckled and nodded too, turning to Gwayne. "And what do you think, uncle?"

Gwayne looked at you, his red hair matching his flushed cheeks as he gave his nephew a mischievous smile. "She is quite a sight, My King."

Aegon laughed again, moving his fingers away from your breasts and scratching his chin to think of something that could humiliate you a little more. He knew this would be crossing the line and would make his mother reprimand him furiously, ashamed of the firstborn that came out of her womb. However, it did not matter anymore. He was the King now, and a King should decide how to punish his own people.

"I think you would like to receive some pleasure after the tiring journey to King's Landing. Right?" Gwayne seemed a little shocked by the suggestion from Aegon's words, but it did not take long for him to agree.

"Yes, my nephew. It would be very useful." Gwayne ignored the tears that streamed down your face when Aegon forced you to kneel in front of his uncle, lifting your face so you could see the lust on Gwayne's face.

Aegon petted the top of your head like a puppy, before smirking and whispering. "Well... then take her as your welcome gift, uncle."

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[ay0nha]

I am on my knees begging for CRUMBS

you disappear and come back with vengeance

please give me crumbs

anything

drafts, WIP, old stuff, anything

I need crumbs

SUMMARY: There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. Yet, you were lethal, the definition of torment. Your silhouette alone was enough to send Buggy spiraling.  

PAIRING: OPLA!Buggy x f!reader (smuggler)

WORD COUNT: ~500

WARNINGS: hurt Buggy subconsciously seeking out reader for help, canon-typical things, mentions of blood/injury, smoking, sarcasm, two idiots in love, mutual pining that's ignored, slow burn, etc.

A/N: LMAOOO this made me SNORT. Any writer knows apart of the process is disappearing for a chunk and coming back thinking your WIPs write themselves lol. So you don't starve lol, below the cut I'll add what I'm currently working on! Be gentle, she's still forming up plot wise but based of a request for Buggy (OPLA)

FULL THING OUT NOW. FIND HERE.

There were reasons habits quickly morphed into vices, something immoral and wicked. Yet, you were lethal, the definition of torment. Your silhouette alone was enough to send Buggy spiraling. 

Each step toward you felt unreliable and fuzzy, making Buggy question if he reattached his limbs correctly. His gut felt twisted with a foreign feeling that he wanted to trap away. He wondered if he buried the feeling deep enough if it would turn to treasure or become forgotten rot. 

“Buggy.” Your voice even irritated him. Yet, he found relief in finding you alone. “Third time this month. Careful…I’m starting to get a big head.”

“That sounds like a medical problem…” He mumbled with little enthusiasm and a half-hearted smirk, “...should probably get seen for that.”

“Admitting you care, eh?” You teased. You were preoccupied, cigarette dangling from your lip and bobbing with every word. “What can I help you with?”

The receipts tended to be formidable, but you couldn't help but feel your concentration falter when you were met with uncharacteristic silence.  Typically, you were shy of whiplash from an unwarranted insult or backhanded compliment. However, once your eyes landed on Buggy, you only saw deep anger veiling desperation. 

 “How serious is it?” Your pen was settled beside the book, whatever records you were once concerned with dismissed.  Buggy looked awful—his posture gave away his exhaustion and discomfort.

“What? Can’t we skip the part where I say ‘the other guy looks worse’?” His busted lip ticked with dry humor. There were rumors he was in trouble, but that paled compared to the truth you knew about Buggy. 

“Depends.” You frowned. “That other guy isn’t stopping by, is he?” If it were true, you’d have to lay low, something you never had time for. “This is why I don’t like your kind.”

“My kind?” Buggy continued unamused. You weren’t more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing to him. You were a smuggler. Plain and simple. It was impossible for something to stay hidden from you for long.  “You’re not far off, sweetheart.”

His terms of endearment never held affection, but he seemed to soften this time for some reason—almost pleading between the lines. You held a trained expression, taking a moment of consideration. 

Your typical jobs with him were small. Typically, they consisted of information that he could coax out of you for trinkets. He brought the world to you. Other times, you moved things through the shadows to an even darker location. 

This was different, you decided. 

Stalking toward the clown, you saw how the pain mapped on his body.  “You look awful.” 

The jester’s bow was fueled by pained sarcasm. Although his abilities helped, Buggy's flesh was still pliable. His jaw was a deep-set purple, contrasting the faded red of his cracked lips. It was hard to distinguish what was paint and what was blood. His eyes were bloodshot with broken blood vessels, and there were gashes littering every place imaginable. 

You were surprised he was still standing. You noted how his breath became labored, as if holding onto what he could before he collapsed entirely. But looking between his eyes, you saw the struggle he had deciding what was worth his final breath: business or pleasure. 

[fictionnatic]

Best Night Ever

Pairing: Inumaki x Female Reader

Summary: You and Inumaki have been together for a while. He's amazing however, there is something you want to hear him say. And on a date one day, he did the unexpected.

Setting: Canon setting

Tags: Fluff, established relationship(is this correct?)

A/n: This is my first fanfic so sorry if it's bad(I think it's too long and descriptive for a first. And I feel like I didn't focus on the plot properly), I'll take criticism but pls be respectful🤧. Also, sorry it took a while(I had to study his onigiri language🙂). And thank you to @lainschizophrenia for this wonderful idea.

Inumaki is a great boyfriend. You've been with him since the start of second year of high school. And ever since then, all he's ever done are good things. Although he has a very limited vocabulary of onigiri ingredients, his actions tells you he loves you and you love him too.

You have gotten used to his language, you understand it even..however, deep inside there is one thing you've always wanted him to say. You do understand that would be near impossible considering he has to lessen the words he says to protect those around him so in a way..you forgot about it.

.

.

.

It's a Saturday evening, and Maki is helping you get ready for a date with your boyfriend. Yep, you're going on a date, a little date somewhere in campus to be exact. It was unexpected to say the least. He asked you out yesterday after class through a little note he so graciously slipped in your pocket while he was walking you to your room.

"Is this too casual?" you asked Maki. "Girl, you look great and besides Inumaki thinks your beautiful even with a bed head". " How do you know that?". "He told me..and Panda, even showed a pic-". "Excusemehehidwhat?" You exclaimed. "Ehehe.. that's a story for another time..you don't want to be late to your date do you". "Oh right! Bye Maki!" And with that you bolted out your room.

You were exiting the dorm buildings when you spotted your boyfriend waiting for you. "Ah Inumaki!" You excitedly called as you were jogging to him. "Kelp!(He's happy to see you)" He opened his arms for a hug that you obviously accepted. You stayed like that for a while, until you asked "Soo.. where is this place you wanted to take me?". "Tuna tuna!(There!)" With his cute smile, he pointed to the direction of the bridge just near the dorms.

A/n: To help visualization

(cont.)

.

.

.

"Oh okay! Let's go then". He then held his hand for you to hold and you both walked to your destination.

It was a calm night, the moon is bright, the stars are visible.. and a beautiful dinner set in front of you. A table centered by roses and lights surrounding you. You looked toward Inumaki in awe and he seemed to be just as flustered as you. "I..don't know what to say. This is amazing!". "Tuna mayo!(I know cause it's for you)". The way he said it made it clear he put a lot of thought into this.

You both made your way to sit. And before you do, your gentleman of a boyfriend helped you sit first. You appreciated the gesture and felt your cheeks warm up. A giggle escaped Inumaki's lips seeing your face.

Looking at the table you realized he prepared your favorite dish for you. You smiled and teasingly said "This is different from what you usually do.. you got something up your sleeve?". "Tuna mayo!(heyy, how did you know?*cute pouty face hehe*)". You laughed at his response until he slipped out what seems to be a letter.

Inumaki handed it to you "Tuna tuna(here it's for you)". "Oh" you took it and then continued "do you want me to open it now?". "Salmon!" He responded excitedly.

You nodded and opened the short letter. It read:

Dear (Name),

We've been together for a while. You have been one of the best things that happened in my life. I want you to know that. I try to make you feel loved and appreciated. And there is one thing that I would like to say..

The letter ended.

You were confused. "Uhh Inumaki what did you want to say? I mea-".

"I Love You"

Huh, did you hear that right. "Eh?" You quickly looked to your boyfriend. "I.. said I..Love you so very much"

There it is, the one thing you wanted to hear from him. The feelings you buried deep inside have been fulfilled. You were overjoyed and felt tears welling in your eyes..tears of joy.

Seeing you're about to cry Inumaki immediately jumped from his chair to you. "Takana?(Why are you crying?*worried tone*)".

"No I'm fine it's just you saying that is so new..? I got so used to your language I didn't expect you to say that like...I-I Love you too."

Wow, that was a mess. And the tears are still falling. Without saying anything else Inumaki just hugged you until you calmed down.

At this point you forgot about the dinner,and you didn't even care.. just those words from the love of your life had made this night the perfect night..the best night.

.

.

.

A/n: I don't know if I translated or used the onigiri language correctly😪 but anyway what do yall think? (Btw, special mention to Maki hehe)

[rhythmic-idealist]

I'm really emotional, tonight and for as long as I've had him, to think about how Tenya is someone for whom the world worked for a very long time. And then that fell apart, and the crisis point he hit was why isn't it working, and then for the rest of the plot of My Hero Academia, whenever he comes to understand a way someone wasn't saved (Izuku, Yuuga, Touya), he finds himself going why the hell is that happening.

(The above is my least-favorite paragraph here, but I can't figure out how to rewrite it; I think I get to a better point down below.)

And he's usually trying to be the thing that fixes it, but when Ochako leaps up on that rooftop and teaches him what Izuku needs isn't possible if it's us continuing the impossible task of protecting him, he needs a world that agrees to stop rejecting him, Tenya listens and goes oh okay this is bigger than me.

Tenya never says this is TOO BIG for me and sets a fight down, he will never stand down if someone is hurting and he is able to try to reach them—but he does need this is BIGGER than me. Saving Izuku isn't too big for him but it is bigger than him, he needs the confidence to race forward to him but also has absolutely no problem with this being a race he can only win if the entire combined speed of 1-A is what sends him forward. Until this point Tenya has conceptualized of himself and Izuku as these kinds of islands of 1-A who are uniquely aware of each other's ability to stray from the path, who pull each other back onto it, each of them the only obstacle standing between the other and their capacities to crash and burn.

Tenya is an example of privilege in a way that reminds the audience privilege usually (usually) refers to a cocktail of things that everyone should have. Tenya was always loved, and the world always believed Tenya could be a hero, and Tenya always had every material and emotional comfort he needed. Tenya fucked up very badly, and hurt someone, and yet he didn't fall down the same slippery slope as Twice and Gentle, because the world understood him to be a good person with potential who was experiencing a crisis and who should be allowed to do good in the world as he moves forward. The greatest pressure on Tenya at the beginning of canon is his feelings of gratitude and admiration for his own family and his desperate desire to have something to offer. And when his world falls apart and his brother becomes mortal and Tenya suddenly discovers getting the bad guy doesn't make me feel better, getting the bad guy doesn't make Tensei better, making Stain hurt is supposed to be good but pretending away helplessness hasn't made me feel less helpless—

Tenya in many ways does shut back down after that moment. The law must always be right and I must always be wrong. Authority must always know better than me and I must always be wrong. But he doesn't stay shut down. His motives are always, always I am 15/16 years old, I have just discovered what mental health is, and I want to save everyone about it. Tenya discovers that nothing is worth anything if it isn't for the purpose of saving someone, and he holds everything he sees and does moving forward to that standard. He has always held the world to a standard, a standard of respecting everyone (that's why we keep our feet off the desks! that's why we applaud Ochako's noble hero motivations right out here in the hallway!) and being good. What changes for him is the standard. Tenya is autistic and does not make exceptions from the standard— if something calls for an exception, then whatever standard he's using isn't working, and he is going to feel horrifically unsettled until he has some kind of grasp on why. On what needs to happen instead.

The world has always worked for Tenya, but nothing he upholds is something he upholds for the sake of status quo, or for the sake of his own family at everyone else's expense. Anything he upholds is something he upholds because he believes it is working. Nothing is too sacred to fall apart– if it isn't saving first.

When he ran away from the zero pointer in the entrance exam, he did it because he was sure he wouldn't have been told anything false by the exam proctors, and he was sure, obviously, that heroes wouldn't let anything bad happen to any of their test-takers. When he was immediately angry with himself for not doing what Izuku did, he assumed Izuku had found a secret rule, because this exam is run by heroes, and heroes know what to do. (It was a secret rule, but that's not why Izuku did it. The world hasn't always worked for Izuku. Of course he has less faith in its 100% stability, that it will definitely stop the zero pointer and save Ochako.)

That's why Tenya followed the letter of the exam as it was laid out: Heroes know what to do, and they wouldn't allow anything bad to happen. So Tenya was certain it wasn't his job to take initiative to make the right thing happen in that entrance exam arena.

But authority doesn't know what it's doing, and all the right laws haven't already been made, and sometimes Mr. Aizawa will expel your friends for going on a rescue mission so you can't tell your sensei you think they're going to get themselves killed, you just have to take initiative and keep them safe yourself. And that's an insane starting point, but it gets him damn well where he needs to be going.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-15

(Previous post - current page 605)

I'm a bit bleary but I had an early-morning appointment cancelled and I literally HAVE NOT been able to get Homestuck out of my head, so I'm gonna do YET MORE liveblogging and keep up my storm-rush to catch up-- or at least get back to the Candy timeline I already care about so much more than this one!

But first (as evidence of my obsession), before we hit that next link, I have some THOUGHTS I typed up in the middle of the night on my phone after recovering my wits from that huge binge of liveblogging yesterday that I'd like to go ahead and paste, then I'll hit the link and continue as usual after that under the cut. Ahem:

I belatedly realized that AL is glowing rainbow because of the power she stole by devouring Lord English, and we don’t know what that power entails beyond “she’s immortal and massively powerful and could perhaps even curse others” (and/or has some extra command over the narrative perhaps, gone into below).  Dirk is still confident that he can destroy her or stop her from stopping him in time to thwart his ambitions, somehow, which is arrogant of him but also interesting and probably right because there’s no way thematically she’s going to win all on her own… the last two times she was knocked out of commission, Alt Calliope was a victim of **TIME** delaying her by knocking Jade out or knocking her out of Jade, Time serving as SPACE’s vulnerability.  All Dirk needs to do is use ploy after ploy to STALL her and dilute her power until his work is done, and once he’s responsible in sort for the creation of all that will ever exist in Paradox Space, securing his spot in a piece of the puzzle as part of the canon story writer of “FOREVER” and its Paradox-Space-spanning loop, he will have won in his eyes.  But if Sburb and its world-devouring sacrifice system of reproduction are CREATED here inside Canon, that also means that OUTSIDE OF CANON, the system of creating universes can be WRITTEN DIFFERENTLY, more kindly and without Dirk’s judgmental and character-traumatizing nature, a new game that births non-doomed timelines and universes of promise WITHOUT destroying what it came from just for “fairness’s” sake, a new game without Dirk’s need for such draconian challenge that teaches its players to become Heroes but doesn’t have to follow such punishing, destructive planet-wrecking and eliminationist rules as the original or give Gods too much control over the universes they create… a system of Orchids instead of Mistletoe, which uses the freedom of being outside Canon for possibility to bloom INDEFINITELY.

Calliope and Roxy were about to describe or debate a plan of their own to fix the broader problem, but any plans the two of them had went interrupted and unsaid… which means they possibly HAVE plans in play already which they wanted to help discuss with Kanaya and Jade but were interrupted before they could describe.  The Plot Point is happening over in Candy’s timeline… and if it’s a story that Callie is writing, that could mean that Original Calliope’s plan to save the Meat timeline, a plan appropriately assisted and thought up in part by Roxy the Rogue of Void from BOTH TIMELINES, is the way Calliope is WRITING INTO EXISTENCE an action that will influence Canon from within (Candy) of crucial importance that both Dirk and alt!Calliope are discounting!!!!

Roxy's comment on how he thought new overgrown house wasn't as ugly as alt!Calliope saw it— as a Void player, just how he thinks the and finds Calliope cute where those not infatuated with the unusual and absurd and impossible might write the cherub off as monstrous— was a thematically appropriate expression of the idea that ROXY DOESN’T HATE THESE NEW STORIES WE'RE READING.  The Epilogues and Homestuck^2 seem grotesque and sprawling to many readers and characters from a perspective on the outside, which perhaps ISN’T STRANGE or unjustified for them to think!  But as an appreciator of the Void, Roxy still finds beauty in it just as he finds beauty in what everyone else thinks of as shitty or silly or disturbing.  For both gender-fluid parts of Roxy on the inside and outside of Canon to work with the original, oft-discounted Callie to make all external fanfiction essential to the nature of reality’s existence as the final tie needed to close the loop and allow for both freedom from the competing authors inside Canon and even TRUER freedom and survival for the timelines OUTSIDE CANON, is the truest plan to this story’s meaning and themes beyond even what alt!Calliope has planned and beyond what Dirk Strider can stop, giving life to the timelines outside the Breach in ways both aspiring narrative-hijacking authors deemed unimportant and useless, and helping prove that they don’t have to be Canon to matter, once and for all.  To grow the sprawling, splitting house into a beautiful tree with two branches of promise, the canon resolution versus the unbound infinity of possibility.  Lord English’s flashing colors that AL inherited also represent her flexing her LORDSHIP OVER THE CANON TIMELINE, that intoxicating and toxic control that trapped the characters before and is trapping them back in the story now, and Roxy and Callie’s plan to bridge Canon with Non-Canon is like the ultimate refutation of that power.

(Does Terezi’s role as contest judge have an important role in the rules of the game of Sburb’s creation that will have the characters balanced at the fulcrum of disparate wills, and/or even the criteria determining the Heroic and Just death of god-tier players encoded into the very game itself?  Does her caliginous fling with Rose represent some clue as to the game’s relationship with the Horrorterrors in allegory?  Hmm…)

I've also thought about how due to his writing style and nature and the havoc he's already proved more than willing to wreak in the Epilogues, Dirk is going to try to cause the characters serious pain.  The Candy side of things has shown that even in their own before the timeline split, what the characters have gone through hasn’t been without a great deal of emotional pain themselves, though Jade seems to have suffered more than we thought in (Candy) proving that the extracanon storyline knows how to be serious when it needs to be, and did so masterfully.  Jade feeling so trapped by her Godhood that Yiffy’s birth was literally her only escape was rendered chillingly in that panel with the shadowy hands reaching out for her, enough to haunt me with her hopelessness after the fact once I was through the high of active liveblogging for the day, and I hope that after all she’s just divulged that Candy Jade can find a new way and learn to BE HAPPY FOR HERSELF too… although on top of everything, on a plot note instead of a character note, I forgot to acknowledge that the way she says Yiffy is the future (Time stuff aside) is very much in line with Yiffy and the others being the heroes of their own universe-creating session soon enough, perhaps even only at the very end of the story to demonstrate the path to the unknown multitude of futures outside of canon unfolding wherever the fans might take them.  Beautiful.

But it does make me afraid, too… afraid both on the Meat and Candy sides, Meat especially, of **who is going to DIE.**. Because this isn’t going to end without at least a few god-tier characters dying or getting soul-trapped or some other cruel fate, especially Davebot’s likely choice at self-sacrifice, but others too, possibly even one of our Jades like Candy Jade if we’re really, REALLY unlucky… except there is one more wildcard to be contended with, one last wrench in the works to wrestle a happy ending out of the dark story Dirk Strider is trying to write.

And that is the three copies of the Ring of Life in play.  Two of which are in the hands of versions of Callie… who might be willing, their stories written, to finalize their ultimate roles as the Muses who bring happiness to all of their favorite characters for the rest of their time, by giving up any of their Rings of Life to bring back someone who has passed on from the story… like the taxidermied Dave from Jade’s sylladex in Candy to bring him back to meet Karkat again and rescue that piece of Davebot back when Davebot thinks his sacrifice is finally made and over, or like John’s corpse in Terezi’s wallet still waiting for resurrection, or any other character who might die too in the upcoming struggle who deserves a second chance… although for the most part side from those who deserve it, I think Homestuck^2 is aiming for an even less traumatizing ending than the original Homestuck, and a future of promise where the rest of them don’t have to suffer as much.  Rosebot and her Ultimate Nature are thwarted and/or sacrificed to create the Game, but Rose’s life-support body is saved for Kanaya to finally have her back after they were unjustly torn apart by the Prince of Heart’s manipulation and lies and power.  John is given an opportunity to find happiness living as Nune that he was never able to before.  (Candy) and it’s Earth survive, and become a starting ground for the expansion of new realities no longer trapped in the Cherubs’ (LE and AL) or Dirk’s or Andrew’s stories, and in fact *Callie herself* by giving up her Rings, the author of (Candy), is the symbolic Death of the Author used to finally free them, one last tragic self-sacrifice that she knows she’ll be happy with because of the infinity of unbound stories, fanmade and otherwise, that the characters outside Canon are now fully free to make for themselves from the initial bedrock of her Fanfic brought to life, allowing her to finally step out of the way and infuse it with life via the Plot Point to allow it to bloom ON ITS OWN into whatever futures it may without her intervention.  Tragic and beautiful, but in a way that would allow Callie to die truly happy knowing the wonderful possibilities she created for all of her favorite friends.

I might tear up a bit!  But it’s only a possibility, right?  Yeah… only a possibility.  The rings sitting in Callie’s hands, waiting for her to take off to repay the Life that was so graciously given back to her by Roxy after her death at her brother’s hands, as thanks and out of pure love for everyone she’s ever written a story about.  A better and more honest and just author than either AL or Dirk.  The story’s last martyr.  :’C

Dave's taxidermied corpse being in Jade's sylladex is a serious promise of hope for the happiness of those in the Candy timeline, no matter which way you look at it, even if Jade and Dave's relationship is toast. If Dave is resurrected at the end of Candy from his taxidermied corpse… perhaps it’s to have a potential future with Karkat or June instead, while Jade — long after having confessed her real feelings as we just recently witnessed, and after even more heart to hearts — finally might find love again by dating Rose and Kanaya? What a self-indulgent potential future… but what would (Candy) be without a little self-indulgence?

(Side question I’m pondering, who **IS** Aradia ACTUALLY dating as was implied?  It can’t still be Candy Sollux right, she can’t go back to him through the Black Hole Barrier even by rewinding her personal timeline can she?  So it has to be another “he” we aren’t acquainted with, or don’t realize we’re acquainted with, who she capriciously visits whenever she wants to……)

Okay let’s get back to the story and distract ourselves with the lore and speculation inevitably born by their choices of new alien races.

Oh my gosh it just caught up to me that Homestuck^2 isn’t anywhere near over just yet, and when I catch up it’ll still be in the middle of things and I’ll be waiting on upd8s to liveblog them.  That’s going to be torture after the joys of all this bingeing.  XD  And there is so much author and artist commentary I’ll have to at least skim in the bonus material, especially the author commentary for that AMAZING HEART WRENCHING SCENE of Jade confessing her insecurities and her hatred of her Godhood and how Yiffy is the only thing she feels like she’s done that she can be proud of since coming to Earth C…!!!!  Holy SHIT I NEED CANDY JADE TO FIND MORE HAPPINESS THAN THAT, I’m starting to get some of my old “Jade has been through too much trauma” trauma bubbling back up and I have to fight it back down because I JUST KNOW they have to do right by her this time, I KNOW IT, she was screwed too hard in Homestuck original and put through too much pain, screwed too hard and put through too much pain in the Epilogues, is finally FINALLY VENTING all of her pain to her friends so it can FINALLY BE RESOLVED AND SHE CAN FIND COMPASSION for her insecurities, and… and god I can’t wait for Hade to be happy but the story isn’t finished yet, I hope the path to happiness for EVERY VERSION OF HER becomes clearer than ever to me soon enough!!!!!

But I’m enjoying the story too much, I’m one of the readers who dragged them back into the spotlight with my need to know what would have happened to them, and I will absolutely enjoy the SHIT out of this winding journey they’re in because it keeps getting better and better and mixing comedy and pain in the perfect cathartic blend and giving me theories to chew on and I can’t help myself, this is the exact same narcotic thrill I got from the original Homestuck and I’m finally confident again that it is and will continue to AMAZE and satisfy me.  I’m so excited despite the butterflies in my stomach.  SO EXCITED.  Excited for everything but the alien races this piece of trash is about to show us, in fact...

(MIDNIGHT PHONE TYPING ENDED ABOVE)

To continue with more stuff I thought about since last night, just this morning... (Candy)'s Rose Lalonde last time was clearly dipping into some of the complacent thoughts of her Ultimate Self, of which she is a part, and I'm glad Jade's confession of her feelings is going to serve in part to begin shaking her out of, though it will take more talks and some time. Oh, and also the Red Flickering that Vrissy and Harry saw may have been the battle alert and not Yiffy setting everything on fire, but... I'm pretty sure Yiffy is setting things on fire after what she just witnessed. There is no possible version of the gleefully-malicious-toward-the-proud-and-neglectful Yiffy that we saw sneak into that vent who wouldn't have been EXTREMELY disturbed by her mother's honest confession, more than enough for her to start breaking things. In fact with her black dog-ears and tail giving her a slight resemblance to Bec Noir, perhaps we should view her destructiveness as in part a reflection of Spades Slick's somewhat similar attitudes to her? Although Yiffy's attitudes are MUCH more based focused on the abuse of power of the proud and laying that hypocrisy low, a very political sort of view against the whims of the Gods and Goddesses that has been sorely lacking as anything but an undertone in these stories so far and SORELY NEEDED a voice serving to deliver it as an overtone instead of an undertone, to speak to the inherent JUSTICE of Just deaths and object like Jasprosesprite^2 was doing to canon President Crocker on the way the denizens of the world and universe deserve to determine the direction of its future more than its celebrity creators.

Oh gosh these are still new thoughts I'm writing this morning, not last night like I'm still dreading how the commentary on that AMAZING scene with Jade confessing the feelings she had behind choosing to have Yiffy and the toxic attitude Rose was taking and the attitudes behind it is going to be something I'll need to read and comment on... that moment as amazing as it was is becoming retroactively a little more painful for me to scrutinize but I won't let that control me. I'll charge ahead right back through to Candy if I have to and fill my thoughts on Candy's last left-off goings-on with FRESHER thoughts on the goings-on in that timeline continuing, even if I don't have time to get all the way forward to where commands are in different sorts of brackets yet that I glimpsed at the beginning of the log accidentally from time to time from the most recent updates.

Let's get back to business. I'm not at 100% capacity right now but I need to make some progress forward, I'll do what I can until I start noticing I'm missing things or out of mental energy to think clearly (because of the rocky sleep I had needing to fast despite my stomach condition only for my medical scan to get cancelled by insurance at literally the last minute), and then get some makeup midday sleep and come back to it. I've still got enough in me for a few pages though, and once I've napped I'll doubtless want to do more later today!

==>

Holy fucking shit. That is... I mean I guess that is "A LOOK" for poor Terezi here. The lankiness, adult-style curves and clothes... augh. It doesn't suit her very well, at least maybe because she isn't grinning and she's wearing the AWFUL suspenders outfit Dirk tricked her into Lil-Cal-ing it up in, but... bluh. Maybe it'll look better with one of her wicked grins on soon.

Now all that remains is to- TEREZI: D1RK Ahem. All that remains is to- TEREZI: *D1RK* Sign. DIRK: What. TEREZI: YOU 4R3 DO1NG TH3 TH1NG, *4G41N* TEREZI: 4ND WH4TS WORS3 1S TH4T 1NST34D OF 4T L34ST H4V1NG TH3 D3C3NCY TO SPOUT OFF 4BOUT SOM3TH1NG N3W OR 1NT3R3ST1NG TEREZI: YOU H4V3 1NST34D CHOS3N TO W4T3RBO4RD TH3 R4W N3UR4L T1SSU3 OF MY TH1NKP4N W1TH 4N 4CR1D 4ND SUP3RFLUOUSLY OV3RC4RBON4T3D N4RR4T1V3 R3C4P DUMP DIRK: Well, it's a recap for *you*. DIRK: But for those who haven't checked in on us in a while, it's more of a stage-setting thing. TEREZI: 1TS B4S1C4LLY 4 R3C4P FOR TH3M TOO, 1D1OT TEREZI: YOUR 1N4B1L1TY TO SHUT UP 3V3N 4S YOU 4CT1V3LY CH4MP1ON TH3 N33D TO G3T TH1NGS MOV1NG WOULD B3 4LMOST 4W3-1NSP1R1NG 1F 1T W4SNT SO 4STOUND1NGLY OBNOX1OUS

Yeah all told, it felt a little soon for a recap, but it HAS been a couple years since most of the events he was describing after that HS^2 authorswap megapause!

Terezi, as you can tell, is still decidedly less enthusiastic about this whole shindig. Maybe she's feeling a bit unheard and insignificant confronted with the reality-shaking splendor of two gods deep in their genesis bags and with little time to entertain her trivial mortal misgivings. Maybe the magnificent gravity of this is lost on her entirely, as she seems to spend all her effort these days avoidantly trudging through a mire of self-pity and principles deadlock, instead of getting into the fucking spirit of the moment a little bit and appreciating not only the opening lines of a stupendously important chapter in the history of Fucking Everything, but her privileged role in it. Maybe she'd prefer we just in-media-res'd this shit and skipped right t-

Dirk is more smug and shitbag and like his part-Doc-Scratch portion of his soul by the passing minute, except less charming.

TEREZI: Y3S, YOU P3TTY V1ND1CT1V3 J3RK, 1 WOULD V4STLY PR3F3R TH4T TEREZI: 3SP3C14LLY G1V3N TH4T 1T 1S SOM3TH1NG YOU 3XPL1C1TLY PROM1S3D M3 TH4T W3 WOULD B3 4BL3 TO DO DIRK: And we will. DIRK: After Rose and I release our progeny into the Deltritus wilds, the three of us are going to timeskip forward ten thousand years or so, so that we don't have to sit around twiddling our thumbs like assholes and waiting for our respective species to become sufficiently advanced. DIRK: Even I'm not so much of a micromanager that I'd be able to keep myself entertained for millennia with only Deltritus to play with. DIRK: Nobody has the patience for that. DIRK: Besides, we have other important shit to get to. DIRK: Also, you'd probably die of old age.

That makes plenty of sense... though it also means that except for perhaps for what Rose's Seer of Light vision shows her without his knowledge, their species might evolve to coharmonize or even interbreed in ways they hadn't expected, even with Dirk's narrative powers trying to control the outcome...? (Again half-predicting their unique traits get smoothed out to turn them into the White and Black Chess People here or something.)

TEREZI: 1M 4BOUT TO D13 OF BOR3DOM *R1GHT NOW* TEREZI: SO 1F YOUR3 F1N1SH3D MONOLOGU1NG 4ND L3CTUR1NG 4ND G3N3R4LLY B31NG 4 S3LF-S4T1SF13D P4PR1K4 PR1CK TEREZI: 1TD B3 GR4ND OF YOU TO DROP YOUR K1DS OFF 4T TH3 D4WN OF TH31R C1V1L1Z4T1ONS, F1R3 UP YOUR BULLSH1T M4CH1N3, 4ND L4UNCH US TO TH3 B3G1NN1NG OF TH3 N3W S3SS1ON L1CK3TY-SP1T DIRK: It's "lickety-split". Yuck.

That'd be pretty nice, please! Get this show on the road!! (So we can get back over to Candy!)

DIRK: Anyway, I'm pretty much done monologuing, but I've got a bit more lecturing and self-satisfied paprika prickery in me, so you're going to have to sit tight for a bit longer. TEREZI: BL3GH DIRK: Don't you BL3GH me. DIRK: You think you can just roll up to my grand commencement speech and interrupt my triumphant expository flex-sesh without taking some of the heat? DIRK: Lest you forget, you've actually got a pretty important role to play in all this.

Oh? How is Terezi actually going to be DOING the judging and such?

DIRK: Taking up the helm at the command terminal, guiding the Deltritan civilizations slowly but surely towards the Game. DIRK: A role Rose tells me you've chosen to automate. TEREZI: Y3P DIRK: ... TEREZI: ... DIRK: ... TEREZI: WH4T >:[

Excuse me, automate? AUTOMATE???!??

Did Terezi create an immortal auto-responder-like AI CLONE of herself like Dirk did in his youth which might subsequently be corrupted or co-opted into serving the judgment/balance role for all future sessions?????

==>

Oh Terezi has learned to fucking HATE this dude even more than before.

DIRK: It's just a little disappointing, is all. DIRK: Rose and I put so much work into whipping up some zany, adorable, kind of fucked up little dudes. DIRK: The least you could do is attempt to give a shit about how they turn out. DIRK: Or was all that hand-wringing about how worried you were that Rose and I were becoming big bad cosmic tyrants with no regard for the poor little mortals buffeted to and fro by the vicious momentum of our designs just virtue signaling? DIRK: Or worse... foreplay? DIRK: Wow. DIRK: Pretty low, Terezi. DIRK: I expected a lot better of you.

Why would Terezi even TRY to control these two, when she knows full well that thanks to Dirk overembracing his role and his ultimate narrative powers and smoothing out any of Rose's moral qualms and objections, he's already proven that he won't let ANY JUDGE control him in any way?

Why not standardize the process of Sburb tempting its players to inevitably play the way it always naturally ended up doing in every subsequent instance?

TEREZI: TH4T JOK3Y-BUT-NOT-R34LLY F4M1L14L GU1LT-TR1P MOOSH1T M4N3UV3R M1GHT WORK ON ROS3 DIRK: It doesn't. TEREZI: BUT 1T DO3SNT M34N SH1T TO M3 DIRK: It does. DIRK: Not that I needed to bust it out for you. DIRK: I know you wouldn't just abandon the Deltritans to the cruel march of time and whatever scant preparation you imagine we gave them. DIRK: You don't trust Rose or I to give enough of a fuck about them, and despite your occasional protestations, you are, for the most part, too good a person to just turn your back on them and let whatever happens happens. DIRK: I trust that the automated suggestions you put in place, and the conditional map that prompts them, were thought through with an honestly touching amount of care, considering your misgivings.

This makes it seem even more as if she's ended up making a core component of the way Sburb/Sgrub works in the first place, intentionally or no.

DIRK: There's no doubt in my mind that even if Rose and I hadn't already basically knocked this creationism shit out of the park, the sons and/or daughters of Deltritus would make it to the Game just fine with even the barest phantom of your counsel.

DIRK: That's why I'm allowing you to do this at all. TEREZI: 1 DONT N33D YOUR P3RM1SS1ON Wrong. TEREZI: OH FUCK YOU DIRK: And for the record, you're also wrong in your assertion that we don't care about them. DIRK: We do. DIRK: I do, at any rate. TEREZI: Y34H YOUR P4T3RN4L G3N3ROS1TY KNOWS NO BOUNDS TEREZI: 4NYON3 WOULD B3 GR4T3FUL TO H4V3 4 B3N3VOL3NT CR34TOR L1K3 YOU TEREZI: ON3 TH4TLL ULT1M4T3LY 3NSUR3 TH31R 3NT1R3 PL4N3T 1S ORB1T4LLY BOMB4RD3D 4ND TH31R SP3C13S 4LL BUT DR1V3N 3XT1NCT S4V3 FOR 4 F3W "LUCKY" JUV3N1L3S DIRK: That's just how this shit goes down for species *lucky* enough to fucking *matter*, Terezi. DIRK: Circle of life. Hakuna Matata. Que sera, sera. DIRK: And you know it.

Terezi is objecting to the very injustice in the STRUCTURE of Sburb here, essentially! To the canon system of universe creation itself and the demands it puts on species and players, the annihilation and threat it poses as payment for the creation of a universe! In ways that reinforce my theory at the beginning of the post and a bit in my previous blogpost that the Orchids versus Mistletoe metaphor is going to be extremely important in differentiating how Universe-Creating Game Sessions work OUTSIDE of Canon as opposed to INSIDE, that there's a better way of doing them that is less traumatic and ruinous than Dirk-- and for that matter, initially, Andrew-- believed the plot demanded, and perhaps DID demand, but is no longer NECESSARY for those who have escaped the brutal confines of "Story" itself and its necessary conflicts, outside the fabric of Paradox Space.

DIRK: Originally, the plan was to pop in every couple hundred years to check on the Deltritan races' progress and to give you a bit of time to guide them manually. DIRK: Which I maintain would have been pretty fun, and would encourage you (probably fruitlessly) to consider giving a go. DIRK: But hey, you say you aren't feeling it? DIRK: Fine. DIRK: I can make concessions. DIRK: I've got other agents in play, and as I've said, I know you aren't going to risk fucking your end of the work up.

Other agents in play? Did he create servants like the Midnight Crew or Felt to do his bidding that those who arrive at Deltritus and its session will need to contend with?

TEREZI: HOW C4N YOU B3 SUR3 TEREZI: M4YB3 3XT3ND3D PROX1M1TY TO STR1LOND3 D3LUS1ONS OF GR4ND3UR H4S DR1V3N M3 TO TH3 BR34K1NG PO1NT TEREZI: M4YB3 1M JUST L4Y1NG LOW TEREZI: 34RN1NG YOUR TRUST SO 1 C4N COMPL3T3LY RU1N YOUR PL4NS FOR 4NOTH3R S3SS1ON TEREZI: DO1NG 4LL 1 C4N TO TURN SK414S 4TT3NT1ON 3LS3WH3R3 4ND D1SQU4L1FY TH1S PL4N3T 4S 4 C4ND1D4T3 TEREZI: NOT ONLY TO PROT3CT TH3 UNTOLD M1LL1ONS OF FUTUR3 D3LTR1T4NS YOU PL4N TO PULV3R1Z3 TEREZI: BUT 4LSO FOR TH3 S4T1SF4CT1ON OF SH4TT3R1NG TH4T STO1C D34DP4N OF YOURS TEREZI: 1F JUST FOR ON3 D3L1C1OUS MOM3NT

Sburb code already exists on the planet; they confirmed it before they landed, at the end of the Epilogues. It's already too late for the denizens of Deltritus unless they have only one dead session, and that seems unlikely. Plus, that isn't Terezi's plan, either. Whatever she plans for John's corpse, or for making this right, it's likely after getting into or involved with the active session with these beings somehow. And she knows that if she WANTED to try and stop Dirk from murdering the civilizations they're creating for the sake of a session, she couldn't. She's just voicing her frustrations, really, about what she knows she can't do-- an Injustice that for the moment she has no ability to stop.

Her views on Justice have evolved, to the point where she'll likely be able to pontificate at least a little bit on the way Sburb ITSELF views Justice as they create the first ever reproductive session and the way it works.

==>

Ugh, this framing showing him throwing his power and influence around is so unsettling and disgusting, it's perfect.

DIRK: Must feel pretty good to imagine, huh? DIRK: But you won't. DIRK: I'm sure, Terezi, because if you did, I'd just have to take you out of the picture and start again. DIRK: Not that you value your own life that much right now, though you really should, but you and I both know you aren't here because I need you. DIRK: You're here because you need me. DIRK: You need this session to happen. DIRK: You need a chance to fix the mistake you've got in that wallet, burning a hole through your pocket.

Ah yep, it's not just how I said, but he KNOWS it's just how I said.

DIRK: You've made a lot of those, Terezi, but you know that besides being important, what we're doing here is a chance to rectify one of them. DIRK: And you aren't going to let that chance slip. TEREZI: ... DIRK: I know what it's like to make hard choices for the people you care about. DIRK: To run your brain raw thinking about how to make things right. DIRK: I've been doing it my whole damn life. DIRK: The choice you're presented with here is pretty fucking easy, and you're a very smart person, so I trust you to make the right decision. DIRK: That's all. I don't really feel like pontificating at you any more. TEREZI: ... TEREZI: GR34T

"Trust" is a loaded word here. Dirk knows Terezi's Heart well enough to "trust" that Terezi will be Terezi. That's not the same as trusting her as a person.

DIRK: We're getting ready to kick this thing off, so all I have left to ask you is DIRK: Do you think you've done everything you need to do to prepare the terminal? DIRK: We're counting on you. DIRK: He's counting on you. TEREZI: Y34H Y34H >:[ TEREZI: 3V3RYTH1NGS S3T UP TEREZI: 1 DONT F33L L1K3 B31NG PONT1F1C4T3D 4T 4NYMOR3 31TH3R SO 1M L34V1NG TEREZI: ONC3 YOU 4ND ROS3 G3T DON3 PH1LOSOPH1Z1NG 34CH OTH3R L3T M3 KNOW SO W3 C4N G3T TH1S BULLSH1T T1M3SK1P OV3R 4ND DON3 W1TH TEREZI: 1LL B3 1N MY FUCK1NG CH4MB3RS DIRK: These are shared chambers, but whatever.

Alright, looks like all we need is a talk with Rose Lalonde bot and we'll probably get this show on the road. Plus we'll get to view her "adult" bot art too likely enough.

==>

*angry brush past bunp*

Strilondes: Banter.

HOLY FUCKING SHIT we are approaching Supergiant's Hades games levels of godhood art here.

ROSEBOT: Looks like you're getting pretty good at motivational speaking. DIRK: Well someone needed to shake the rust off of her. DIRK: She's getting nerves. DIRK: Right before the big game. DIRK: We're never gonna make it to nationals at this rate. ROSEBOT: Ah, fuck. The sports. ROSEBOT: How quickly I forgot them.

And in so many ways they still haven't frickin' changed. XD

DIRK: There's gotta be some kind of sports penalty, for forgetting the sports. ROSEBOT: Oh, definitely. ROSEBOT: I've been very bad and I need to be punished, to preserve the integrity of the sports. DIRK: Let me just slip into my jackass sports judge mime outfit and get to laying down the fucking sports law. ROSEBOT and DIRK: Let's stop saying sports. DIRK and ROSEBOT: Agreed.

Okay the way that appeared on the page to emphasize that DIRK WAS PROBABLY CONTROLLING HER and/or they were just so similar that they jinxed each other and said the same things at the same time was super creepy and I like it.

DIRK: Speaking of outfits, though, look at you. ROSEBOT: You like it? DIRK: It's chic. DIRK: I dig the return of the hood. DIRK: You could deliver a whole hell of a lot of cryptic prophecies out from under that sucker. ROSEBOT: Yes, well, I figured that if I'm to appear before our chosen peoples as a harbinger of their simultaneous doom and salvation, I may as well look the part.

Damned good looking and very appropriately dramatic, yes.

Okay I know this was short, but you at least have my midnight pontifications and post-pontifications up top, so I'm going to pause here to nap and recover some mental energy before I get back to the reveal of these final civilizations we're presumably getting in-medias-res as promised or what have you. So I'm posting this very short liveblog post now but you can likely expect MUCH more in the afternoon/evening unless I indicate otherwise.

[frog-man-blog]

Spoiler for AvA Season 2

I got a theory I have to share rn

Also this post is long- just be prepared

If you don’t understand or if I’ve accidentally leaned off topic please let me know! (Also remember you don’t have to agree, this is just a theory)

So we know how in the end of the episode, where Orange and Chosen were captured, they have been imprisoned.

Orange was locked inside of a cell wall Chosen was locked inside of this giant white box.

But take a good look at the giant white box Chosen was put inside of



I’m pretty sure by now, everyone knows that this isn’t just a normal cell specifically made for Chosen so he can’t escape. And if you don’t know, well, those wires and weird contraption in the middle should give that away.

This is a machine meant to do some thing, but nobody knows what it’s meant to do. Some people have brought up the idea that Chosen could be tortured, however, I do not think that’s the case.

If they were to torture Chosen, that would mean they would want information out of him. The only information that Chosen could possibly have is anything about Dark or Alan. I do not believe they would torture him for the sake of their own entertainment or enjoyment.

Dark is a reasonable assumption as anything about his whereabouts are unknown, and nobody knows if he’s alive or if he’s dead. However, there were no wanted posters of Dark anywhere, and no indication that they were looking/going after him. 

Alan is the next reasonable assumption as to why Victim wanted to captured him, as people have been speculating that Victim wants revenge on Alan. However, if Victim had done his research considering all of their origin stories are on YouTube in canon (I could be wrong) wouldn’t he have known Alan had enslaved Chosen for five years? Thus knowing Chosen should have some sort of grudge against him?

Yes, there is a chance that showdown could have been on YouTube in canon, considering Chosen and Dark fought on YouTube’s website during showdown. However, with that logic, this episode would have been uploaded on YouTube in the canon universe. (Unless this really is just a reality tv show and they’re all actors but that’s for another time)

 Of course, Chosen could be questioned about something else entirely however, we have no way of knowing what. I do like the idea of Victim going after Alan for revenge, but that also might not be the case because if I’m right that they’re not looking for information out of Chosen, it wouldn’t make sense why they captured him specifically. Especially if they have access to the YouTube videos that are in canon and know that Orange and his friends are much closer to Alan. 

Yes, they could’ve very well captured Chosen to lure Orange and his friend out however, unless they planned to use Chosen for something else, capturing him in a machine meant to do something to him seems like they would be plotting something bigger.

Also the fact that they would’ve easily been able to capture the 5, or at least Orange makes it even more confusing why they targeted Chosen first and not raid Alan’s computer. (Unless you know… their computer is hard to find or not wanna make contact with Alan yet)

We do get this scene of one of the mercenary’s getting feedback from someone else as the other mercenary’s were about to attack Orange. Could it be that they had planned to capture him, but were going after Chosen first, and Orange so happen to be there? Or was that feedback meant for something else… we don’t know yet.

However that doesn’t mean Victim seeking revenge isn’t impossible. Just because he might not question/tortured Chosen about it, doesn’t mean Chosen won’t play a big part in it.

So let’s continue back on the path before. The reason why Chosen was captured and why specifically a machine that’s definitely more than just a special prison box.

With the torture being out of the way, we still have tons of options as to what it could be that they want from Chosen. And there is no way we could go through all of the endless possibilities. However, I would like to bring up 1 theory I found that could be plausible.

This is a machine meant to harness Chosen’s power, and use it to power up something or make them stronger. In no way do I think this is just a prison for Chosen, as there is even a control panel and tons of wires hooked up to this white box.

Obviously, this machine could do anything. But it would make sense that Victim would want Chosen’s power for his own, considering we don’t even know if Victim has powers. Perhaps he’s stealing them, or just using them for his own benefit. Again we don’t know. 

We currently do not know anything of Victim’s character and his motives. For all we know we could have everything wrong. All we know was that he was deleted, and technically died, but is now back. (although I think it should be obvious that when you delete something off the internet, it’s not gone, it’s still there)

Yet, I can’t help but feel excited about where the story is going. Really takes me back to when the first episode of season 1 aired. It was such a small community back then and we all freaked out about Chosen’s return. This was even back when Dark was mostly (Aka a part of the fandom on insta) characterized as a nice, and goofy bestie to Chosen (which isn’t entirely wrong per say) and it caught us off guard when it was revealed he was gonna be the main villain.

No joke- I was actually heart broken when he was revealed the big bad

But that’s about it

I don’t wanna make this post any longer

And my phone is lagging bad-

So if you read this far thank you for listening to this giant post 😭 and again you don’t have to agree, I just like sharing silly goofy theories.