#this concept hit me like a shovel to the head

[maiooo-0]

i know nothing about xmen but i saw you posting xmen art and my first thought was "i need to send an ask begging for transfem nightcrawler art like a starving victorian peasant begging the king for bread" so please milord spare me a 5 minute restaurant paper towel doodle me family is starving and our crops have been claimed by the ravenous famine

I'll take any opportunity to draw the blue guy and I wish I had the energy to draw more !!! But still I hope you enjoy it 🤲

(((Also the idea of transfem nightcrawler makes me happy bc imagine she realizes from using the image inducer and feeling super happy when looking like a woman ARGHH whatever ignore meeee)))

[derelictlovefool]

❝​🇪​​🇲​​🇪​​🇷​​🇬​​🇪​​🇳​​🇨​​🇪​-⦂❝

— 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐝.

Notes: Don't forget part one and part two! Reader and Wade suck at communicating some more, Peter's a good pal and you should remember to never walk past dark alleyways at night kids, especially when your recent ex is a merc!

Warning/s: Canon Typical violence, kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, unhealthy relationships, toxic behaviour, angst, references to alcohol consumption & sexually explicit activities, explicit language

Words: 3k

The act of finishing a favourite hot beverage had never been so difficult, so tense and unendurable. You and Wade had sat in stuffy silence, neither giving in and or walking away; the only two ways to push the painful interaction forward. You had so much you wanted to say but no words would come out, your leg bounced under the table and you'd locked your arms over each other. You were trying with all your might to block him out, physically and mentally, but it would never work with him right across from you. You inhaled deeply and exhaled just as roughly, Wade's own movements Mimicking yours as he adjusted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Look at us," he finally muttered, "This is sadder than the shitty apartment in that game they made about me." He sighed and you felt like tossing your empty mug at his head for the reference you couldn't conjure in your mind, no one in this universe was making games in honour of Deadpool—or Wade Wilson. No one was making anything his face or name anywhere near it. He was right that it was fucking sad though, you wouldn't argue with that.

"Whose fault is that?" You couldn’t help but be snippy, indignation heavy in your tone, your back restlessly hitting the back of the booth that started to feel more suffocating as the seconds ticked by. You wanted to be anywhere else, you wanted to turn back time and be sitting in this booth with Wade making jokes about the cafe decor and not remarking on your crumbling relationship.

"I blame Daniel Way and Damon Wilson-Hart personally—"

You shot him a pointed look and he cut himself off, the mirage of humour and escaping this reality joining the hot cocoa in his stomach acid as he all but deflated before you.

"How many times do I gotta say sorry?" His shoulders slumped and he held his hands up in question, he'd never sounded so lost. And there were plenty of times when he had been, maybe in even more dire and important ways than this. One's where you weren't involved.

"I don't know Wade, I've never had that big of a shitshow breakup before and I can't just snap my fingers and get over it." You snapped your fingers to emphasise your point, "I wish I could just forgive you and have nothing but happy, bubbly feelings for you again but that's not how the real world works." You unfold your arms, spreading them out across the table and you seem him almost reach out to grab one of your hands when you do; you weren't sure if you would have recoiled, or if you would have grabbed him back tight enough to leave a bruise—so you're relieved when he doesn't.

It would just make it harder.

"What do we do now then? I'm no good at grovelling, I'm much better at shovelling and shooting, neither of those apply here—or do they?"

"If I were to start somewhere Wade I'd figure out how you're gonna tell me what happened, with all the gritty details, " you ignored his latter question, "and maybe while you're at it some therapy would do you some good." You hated how harsh you sounded but you needed to say it, it's not like you were asking too much—Well the therapy might have been a step too far for Wade but you stood by it. No matter how much you praised the work your therapist had done while helping you Wade never got more than a hundred feet within a practice or office.

It was like he was allergic to the mere concept of therapy and getting help.

"And what about you?"

"I have an appointment with my therapist and i'm gonna bitch and moan about you, wait for them to fix me and tell me what to do so I can argue with them for ten minutes… And end up doing the opposite." You rolled your eyes, expecting a scoff or some kind of dig, that seemed to be what you were both good at right now. But what you got was almost worse.

"So there's still hope… For us?" His words left a heavy feeling hanging over you and you suddenly found your fingernails very interesting. Caught off guard and forced to deal with yourself rather than him had you shfiting in your seat. You wanted to say yes, of course, there was never no hope for you. No matter how many scenarios you played in your head none of them had you walking away from the merc, it just wasn't something you were capable of. Your therapist would be extremely disappointed but despite all you'd told them no one really understood you and Wade, and no one ever really would.

Even when it felt like you were worlds apart it was you two against everybody else.

You envisioned the both of you back to back, tied by that silly red string pulled tight enough to draw blood, your skin on Wade's and the both of you unable to move lest the cord pull tighter and choose to free you both of your heads and hearts. The more you thought about it the more you got to realise how much you'd let yourself need Wade and how your therapist had some credibility when they tossed the co-dependency thing around. You wished you’d never heard the word and kept living in blissful ignorance but it was too late for that, you and Wade were all kinds of messed up and this whole situation was proving a myriad of things you didn’t want to think about.

"I hope so." You whispered, the sentiment genuine as it tumbles from your lips. You wanted to stop being angry. you wanted to stop your chest from aching anytime you glanced at him and got flooded by the memories of the last two years—and that fucking breakup. God you wanted to forget about it and tuck it away into the memories that gave you hives box and never think about it again. Depending on someone wasn't a crime and you knew Wade felt the same, even if it was for different reasons. That day had apparently sucked for both of you but you dared to say you got the shorter end of the stick.

Your phone buzzed, Wade stared you down from across the table.

You picked it up and despite the notification being nothing more than a reminder for your appointment the next day you stood and stuffed it away in your pocket. You couldn’t deal with this right now, the angry arguments you could handle but the raw, open vulnerability was too much—at least for a cafe. Maybe if you were back in your apartment you’d feel more inclined to sit in it and talk. Actually talk. But you weren’t at your apartment.

"I gotta go, I'll… See you around Wade." It felt weird to walk past him without squeezing his shoulder or pressing a kiss to the leather of his suit; all of this felt wrong and you wanted to try all over again. Maybe you should have just stayed home, actually. Wade grabbed your wrist and you took a moment to steel yourself before looking down at him, his expression hidden by that red fabric and blank white eyes set into the black coverings.

"Tomorrow night. I'll see you." It was a firm declaration and it had you wondering all sorts of things but you were too tired to argue. You nodded and his hand lingered over yours as he slowly let you go. It felt nice, for a brief moment, to have your hand in his; the warmth of his palm and gentle touch of his fingertips. But it slipped away and you walked out, holding your head high as you forced yourself to head down the street. You found yourself at another park across the city, sitting on a bench and scrolling through your contacts as you thought about how to distract yourself.

Normally you loved the weekend—Normally you had Wade or friends to hang out with.

But as you looked at the names of your buddies you couldn't think of one that wouldn't give you another 'I told you so' lecture about Wade and you really didn't need that right now. You needed to think about literally anything else at that moment—or be supported in some other, less Wade-hating way.

You jumped as your phone rang and you stared at the photo on your screen for a second before you picked up the call.

"Hi Pete." You greeted, brows furrowed as the sound of wind gushing past the receiver met your ears.

"Spidey senses were tingling, you okay?" He asked, voice muffled by his mask, and you can't help but laugh. No, you were so far from okay, and Peter was not one of the people who'd keep his mouth shut about Wade. He hated him, or at the very least had an extreme dislike for him—even when you were dating, he didn't keep his disdain about it to himself. You got that's what friends were for in so many cases, but sometimes it really pissed you off, and you weren't sure you could handle any of that right now.

"I'm fine," a long pause, "Okay no, I feel like shit but I really, really, don't want to talk about it." You muttered, chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced around the park. People walked by like usual, none of their world's were crumbling at the seams because their boyfriend broke up with them—they were happy, or, happier than you. The wind died down on the other side of your phone, and you jumped as the bench bounced with the weight of someone leaping onto the wood beside you.

You turned to the side, Peter crouching beside you, fully suited up and phone now tucked safely away. You let yours fall to your lap as Spiderman now squinted at you, scrutinising the eye bags and red eyes as you stared back at him hoping he didn't say the one name you don't wanna hear from him.

"Hello totally-random-sad-bench-citizen whom I don’t know, you look like you need pizza and a joyride." You were pleasantly surprised when he held his hands out to you. People were whispering around you again, but this time, it was all directed at the superhero beside you. You stood, took his hand and let him help you to your feet, jumping on his back in what you both liked to call 'backpack buddy mode'. Within a second you were flying through the crisp air, you gasped, always in awe no matter how many times you'd done this. The feeling of flying through the air, far away from all your issues, was like nothing else. It was freeing.

You clung to Peter's shoulders and tried to get a good look at the city streets below, where everything looked like ants, and you felt like a God watching the world go by. If only you could stay up here with the birds, never touch the ground or have to focus on your problems like a grown adult.

Apparently and thankfully, Peter had already ordered pizza, and when you arrived at the rooftop of one of the taller apartment complexes in the city, there was a pizza box and cans of soda waiting. You wondered if he’d spotted you on your walk earlier, it would be too far-fetched to guess he saw you run into Wade and head to the cafe. You would be surprised if that were the case, seeing as he’d been like your small, chihuahua sized guard dog hellbent on keeping Wade away from you as you dealt with everything. Maybe he had realised what your therapist had already known or a year.

Wade was your problem and your solution all wrapped up in one messy little bow. You couldn’t get past this without him.

"I don't want a heart to heart over pizza and soda, just so you know." He set you down safely on the brick and shrugged in reply, walking over to the ledge to sit down.

"Duly noted, you want me to hear about my day then?" He clapped his hands together, and you smiled, nodding in genuine eagerness—hearing about someone else for a while might just do the trick of getting you out of your own head. And damn did you need out of it for a second.

"Okay, good, because you're not gonna believe what these bank robbers did this morning, these guys really get their routines from looney tunes or something." And so he began, pushing his mask up to his nose so he could 'chow and pow', the term you coined for talking shit and stuffing your face while you were at it. Very unattractive but inevitable when you were eating and deep into your rant.

Peter waved his arms about as he regaled the stupidity of a group of bank robbers and then the old lady who nearly got him hit by a bus, it was nice to lose yourself to his day for a while. You even laughed, a full, belly-aching laugh with snorts and all. You stayed on the roof until the sun began to set, and you ended laying on your back, legs dangling over the ledge as you and Peter fell into a comfortable silence. Staring at the clouds carving their snail pace across the sky and the shifting hues of the sky beyond them.

The pizza box and soda cans were empty, and for a moment, so was your mind. You could close your eyes, and everything was totally blank. Just a serene nothing as you listened to the faded sounds of the city and your own breathing.

"I know you don't want to talk about it."

Fuck. There it was. You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut as you readied yourself for whatever he was about to say.

"I'm here if you need me, I think I said all I wanted to say…" He trailed off and you recalled Peter arriving in your apartment the night of the breakup, his anger had almost rivalled your own anguish and he had definitely had plenty of choice things to say about… About Wade. About your relationship too, but mostly Wade.

"Breakups suck, and if you need another joyride and pizza hour with your friendly neighbourhood… With your friend, I'm here." Peter knocked your knuckles together, and you felt yourself relax, appreciative of where that had gone. Far from what you'd been expecting. You rolled your head to the side and shot him a smile, matching his own as you returned the weak fist bump.

"Thanks Pete,"

"Anytime… You need a ride home? Free of charge." You grinned as you pulled yourself up and he followed suit.

"Nah, can you drop me off at Faun Street? I think I need to walk in thoughtful silence for a bit." You mused, there was a lot you needed to get in order in your own head before you faced Wade again. You needed to decide whether you were gonna accept whatever he said and maybe try to work things out or put your foot down and decide… That it was maybe time you two were just friends again. Even though the thought alone made your stomach turn over itself uncomfortably.

"Yeah, okay, I get it." And with that, you were off, having the short and fun ride of binning your trash mid-air and being dropped off right across from the café you and Wade had sat in earlier today. You hugged Peter goodbye, and after he vanished around a corner, you rolled your shoulders and turned on your heel—headed toward the park that eventually would lead you back home.

You had to evaluate some things, like how much you could be okay with Wade's reasoning for the spectacle he made of your breakup. You think you'd need a while to get over how public and angry it was, he didn't need to be that cruel about it—no matter what. The thought he was trying to protect you in his own twisted way did make sense, but it didn't make it hurt any less. You weren't sure there was anyone for you after Wade, no one could full the shape of him in your heart, you doubted anyone would want to. So even if it had gone smoother, even if it had been cordial and he had gotten stuck forever in a black hole; you would have been more likely to steal a spaceship and save him yourself. Somehow.

You'd managed to find him in wieder places before. If he had more faith in you, let you into that side of his world more openly, then it wouldn't have been a problem in the first place. Maybe that was it, you had to break down that wall between Deadpool and Wade Winston Wilson, the division he put up to keep you away from the blood and guts of his operation—literally and figuratively Maybe then he could be more honest, still a dick but one that wouldn't break up with you on the basis of not being able to tell you the truth.

You sighed, running a hand over your face as you crossed onto the street and past an alleyway, poor timing on obscuring your vision there you'd admit later. Especially as multiple hands shot out and took hold of you all at once—your side hit the ground and your body scraped across the concrete harshly, your skin burned and the air escaped your lungs before you could make any type of distinguishable noise. You barely got a glance at the shadowy figures around you before a heavy force hit the back of your head, blacking out your vision and leaving you limp and unconscious.

End notes: Hope you enjoyed this part, let know know what you thought about it! The next part’s gonna be tons of fun! :)

[mage-ical-character-person]

I wish I could give Seedos spare seeds. Or trade with him or something. He just gives and gives and these things are so important to him. I have spare water lily seeds cause I fully fertilize them every time because they’re pretty. Let me give the little man a gift.

It would also be cool like game mechanic wise if giving Seedos seeds was a thing you could do and it like… made him more likely to give you rarer/higher value seeds on his next visit. Sorta like how you can tip the diggerlings to increase the odds of them finding loot, and also sort of being a parallel to how being mean to Seedos makes him plant weeds in your garden. Then again he already gives me what feels like an absurd amount of gem and oak tree seeds. Maybe I’m just lucky.

Mostly just want to be his friend.

I do just generally wish the human characters other than Leafos were more intractable though. Like you can’t do anything with Storkos, Petula keeps saying she wants to visit my garden but she never gets the time, and the only way to interact with Dastardos is hitting him with the Dastardos shovel head. He doesn’t even react to being watered. :( I wish you could talk to him while he was on his way back, I get not being able to stall him that way while he’s after your piñata, but I wish he had more actual lines cause he’s so cool in terms of backstory and concept.

Storkos too she seems like a really fun character I love her but you could take her out of the game and very little would change.

and Petula. I just really like her but she’s confined to her store all the time and it’s not like Lottie where you’re constantly visiting her. And she has that line of wanting to come see your garden sometime and it’s the most genuine she ever sounds! And she CANT visit my garden. Let her in! I don’t care if Leafos has some weird beef with her Leafos needs to get over it! I want to give Petula a place to chill!

[weebsinstash]

so with a platonic yandere (or yanderes) how does it work, do you just never get the chance to have a romantic relationship, do they force/encourage you into one with someone 'approved' like a family friend or someone 'in the know' sort of thing, or do their feelings change or border on the romantic side as well?

Well, I find for me personally it often depends on the character themselves for like, what kind of relationship im looking for, or, yeah sometimes i just switch it up based on concept, sometimes i get a real specific idea that stays in my brain and I can go back and forth depending on, I guess, preference. It's kind of a recent-ish development for me to think of platonic yandere AT ALL since like 99% of the time my brain goes "well if they don't love you romantically or want to fuck you what is THE POINT"

And it kind of took me a while to realize that sometimes "the point" of platonic yandere can be that they technically "don't get anything back". If they scoop you up and force therapy on you, it's because they want to legitimately help you, not to say a romantic/sexual yandere wouldn't, but for a platonic one it's more I guess "selfless" because they aren't like, getting a spouse or a fuck buddy out of it. With a platonic yandere, they don't want you to hook up with that guy because, yeah they're jealous you're not spending time with THEM but its like, spending time watching movies or going to the park or playing video games, spending time with you as you, doing potentially anything, but also they have you up on this pedestal and the guy is just an insignificant little worm to them. He thinks he can date THEIR sister? Creep creep go to jail eat dirt go six feet under here's a shovel start digging

I can be so moody and contextual about the whole thing, like for example, I've been making a lotta posts about a purely platonic yandere Batfamily with Bruce as you know the patriarch and all that, basically becoming a father figure to you even if you're already an adult, where he is like emphatically "no, Reader is your sibling, S I B L I N G" and getting out the batbottle and spraying them like cats any time he may notice anyone in his house catching feelings for you, but i also thought about, (this is kind of an AFAB specific idea sorry) what if Damian specifically developed one of those weird "big sister when i grow up im gonna marry you" complexes and Bruce is NOT having it when suddenly Damian hits him with "but FATHER, if I'M Reader's husband when I come of age, then our offspring will be YOUR biological grandchildren" and Bruce finds himself sitting there suddenly vividly picturing you holding a fat little newborn with a big head of black hair and smiling up at him "dad come hold your grandson 🥰" and he's. He's gone, like, suddenly he can't see it any other way. OBVIOUSLY Damian is the perfect husband for you, Bruce is helping raise him? Who would make a better spouse for his adopted daughter than his ACTUAL son? Talk about keeping it in the family

In his eyes, his son would make a more than competent husband once he comes of age, especially considering not only is Damian his son but, extremely similar to Bruce himself; broody angsty genius with superhuman skills, intelligence, athleticism, etc. And if not Damian, isn't Dick lowkey his favorite child, and also, you know. Already an adult and not nearly as emotionally constipated 😅 Bruce can trust either one of them to take care of you, building off of a paranoia that any place outside his family and his home is fraught with danger and anyone who hasn't been explicitly vetted by him suddenly cannot be trusted in your presence

I keep finding myself drifting back to platonic yandere but only in like, almost extremely specific circumstances, like for real those age regression ideas i realized are coming from like DEEP places of trauma and rejection for me and feeling like I'm so permanantly damaged i literally need a do over and need to be all but remade from scratch, being helped when i was younger and at my lowest points in childhood, and I'll admit I've noticed most of these platonic yandere ideas usually revolves around aspects of family, fatherhood, childhood, etc. Like literally right off the top of my head, two characters who kind of got the platonic yan ball rolling were Stolas from Helluva Boss and Nolan Grayson from Invincible, both of them fathers. Of course I would absolutely let Nolan tear this ass up too though as you guys have seen, like i find the Viltrumite Reader concepts kind of keep fluctuating between "he wants to mentor you and then catches feelings" to "no he just wants to be your dad and Viltrum mentor and after your real family dies during some kind of monster attack he just straight up adopts you and moves you into his house and the government lets him bc, i mean, they need to keep an eye on you as a Viltrumite"

Of course I also like the idea of sort of a middle ground. You know, like, the yandere begins purely platonic without any sort of intentions but it develops into something deeper after they've already come to know you and you trust them, or even, they're actually totally 100% "a normal person" and something happens to you or them where they suddenly become yandere. Like imagine you know someone for like a couple years and then all of a sudden, they're acting differently. So I've also thought about, Bruce and Reader are work friends in the Justice League and his feelings begin as purely protective and platonic and he knows you for a decent chunk of time but when he starts getting to know you more personally, more details about you the person under the costume, maybe he eventually realizes he's getting extremely jealous watching you interact with other men and, maybe in the process of taking care of you his feelings change. You get wounded on the job and you don't have any family to help provide any care while you're still extremely weak and recovering and he's helping you and that's when he suddenly realizes "oh shit this line of work is so dangerous, he doesn't want you to die, he doesn't want anyone to die but like you most specifically, he doesnt want you doing this anymore" and maybe he brings you to the manor for recovery and you never wind up leaving

But typically yes, as you suggested, usually when I've picked a character to be a platonic yandere it's because I can see them being overly protective to the point they won't let you date at all, even if the specific reasons for WHY may change. Like hypothetically for some of the ideas I've had, Stolas doesn't want you to date or have sex period because he's kind of Goin Through Some Shit and this is kind of like his second go around of being a dad and him expressing some sort of trauma or guilt over Octavia and he sees you as His Extra Special Little Girl and you don't get so much as a kiss on the cheek with another person until like, he's had enough years with you to be satisfied with "your childhood" kwim. Or a yandere who declares themselves as your sibling not completely against you dating or all that but they just have EXTREMELY high standards. like lmao imagine, like, someone like Deku basically inserting himself in your life as your brother and you're like "ok fuck dude, who do you think WOULD be worthy of dating me" and he's just like "I guess someone like All Might!" Like bro that platonic obsessive little twink is NEVER letting you get laid, you suck off ONE dick and he's holing up in his room CRYING because "someone's defiled his baby sister and made her dirty" not in the sense that he like doesn't like you anymore or he's judging YOU but in his mind your "purity" has been tainted by someone else and the only solution is to like, kill/get rid of that person and "atone" by never letting it happen again, cause obviously by letting you suck that guy off Izuku FAILED YOU, and maybe at some point he snaps and you wake up from one of your mandatory sibling cuddle sessions and he's pressed way too closely to you as he declares he's the only one worthy of you and he's sorry he didn't realize HE'S the husband you needed

Really I'm just a creepy little freak and it can depend on how I'm needing or craving to feel accepted in that particular moment in time 😅

[kedsandtubesocks]

omg !! your mando!baku thoughts i'm—

living for this au ! 🥺 so cute and such opportunities for angst 👀 drama 👀 forbidden romance 👀 pining !! i yearn for him goodbye akfhsidbbw

ty for sharing !! just wanted to stop by and say that i am in love with this concept 🥺

okay not even joking this literally is me right now because the absolute talent behind one of the best bakugo works and you take me the way I am messages ME?!

(also so ok I’m a big reader on ao3 especially for bnha fic so at first it didn’t hit me that you wrote it and then for a split second I was like “wait why does their name sound familiar- OH MY GOD??” So FORGIVE ME IM SORRY!!)

But lovely Willow oh my goodness… I really can’t explain how bright my entire being feels seeing your message I can’t thank you enough for dropping in to send something because I am just 🥹 and probably will be like all day

But yes TEAM MANDO BAKU!! AHHHHH 😭 he really does fit the role so well doesn’t he? Our chaotic angel queen @ofmermaidstories mentioned him with a certain green baby and my brain malfunctioned because he’d be such a sucker for foundlings

And okay…Honestly 👀 depending on how the current season of the mandalorian ends I might just take the jump and write him to deal with the pain™️ LMAO

For now I knew I had to leave you with something because you are as sweet as can be and i wish I could put into words and explain how much your message means to me so this will have to do, thank you 💐

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The two of you would be stuck in the cave for a while.

“What happened to your damn shitty sorcerer powers huh? Can’t you move the dumb rocks?” Bakugo’s snarled modulated voice cuts through your thoughts and you sigh exhausted already.

You knew about his list of accolades.

One of the strongest mandalorain clan leaders that helped liberate their home planet of Mandalore. A war hero notorious for using not just a jet pack but also specially crafted beskar gauntlets that helped him fire cannon like explosions from his fists. He’s a smart strategist and commander, has earned the respect of the Jedi council for willing to work with your kind.

But he makes you want to pound on his metal helmet head with your lightsaber until it knocks some sense into him.

“It’s sometimes not as simple as moving rocks. I have to save my energy just in case those troopers come back.” You reply sharply. “Besides we both sent out distress signals, someone will come. We just have to wait.”

“Maybe you just can’t move the rocks.” It’s said so casually as Bakugo tries to survey the blocked off exit. The most childish thought rises in you to use his metal body to dig out of the rocks like an awful shovel.

So you breathe- inhale, exhale.

Thankfully the caverns glow from the tiny insects living in the rocks. It’s enough light that you can rummage through the ration packs in your bag.

“Come on,” you offer. “We need to eat something.”

“No.” Bakugo replies gruff. “We could be here a while. Can’t eat all that now.”

He’s right. You’re not telling him that of course. So instead you set your pack back down, close your eyes and try to mediate. But his awfully loud boots stomping around, crunching on every possible rock, makes your face scrunch frustrated. You try to plug up the annoyance leaking in fast.

“Relax.” You say to him or mainly to yourself.

Bakugo scoffs. Your eyes peak open to possibly glare at him. But his back is to you. The obsidian coated beskar he proudly wears is something striking. You even admire the beauty. You also notice you’ve been admiring his broad shoulders that seem to be even broader now with his hands on his hips. You shut your eyes fast.

You’re a knight. You’ve fought wars, survived training to become carved into a harbor of good and peace. You are a lightening rod for the force. You can’t falter, can’t waver.

Your stomach suddenly growls so loud that your eyes snap open horrified.

Bakugo’s helmed face even whips towards you.

“Was that your stomach? Are you part rancor or something because I had my damn suspicions…”

You almost scream at him. You think the force itself might be giggle behind your back.

Embarrassment chokes your mind as you sputter to even think of something. Until the warrior sighs. Bakugo pulls something from one of the pouches attached to his belt.

More ration packs.

“Don’t eat ‘em all.”

You glare hard at him. He knew you had your own. But, you offer him a quiet thanks. As you munch on the bland protein cube you realize-

“You need to eat too.” You tell the warrior.

A moment passes.

“I’ll be fine.” A fast simple reply from him.

“You said it yourself, we don’t know how long we’ll be in here so you need to eat something.”

“And I’ll cross that fucking bridge when if we get there.”

As if the force itself decided to give you a respite, his stomach growls even louder than yours.

It childish and comedic and you can’t even believe the timing. You can’t help it. You bust out laughing. It’s moments like this that remind you this grouchy feral lothcat of a man is in fact someone true and human beneath the helmet. (Or at least you believe he’s human. Your mind wanders about what he looks like beneath the helmet more than you ever will admit out loud.)

“Eat you idiot!” You laugh but a part of you is already terrified that you momentarily just sounded like him.

Something shifts in the air though, faint but heavy enough to notice. Bakugo goes quiet and everything stills alongside him.

“I can’t. Not yet…not here at least.” Oh.

The helmet.

“Look,” you begin solemn, composed. “I swear on my honor as a Jedi Knight you can trust me-“

“Like hell-” he snaps interrupting you first

“Fine!” But you fire back just as fast interjecting. “Starve I guess!”

The words are sharp. You even hate the taste of them, a poisonous bile still lingering in your mouth. Regret already floods you, a wild drowning current. If the council had heard you they would have been disappointed. You’re disappointed in you. You need to be calm, leveled headed. But you know you’re frustrated, tired and…and you hate the strange feeling that’s been crawling on your skin, growing a festering heat, ever since you met this damn menace. So you sigh, defeated and small.

“I’m sorry. Your creed is important, I understand that and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t say a word. The silence, his silence, you discover is actually worse than any of his worst outbursts.

So you break the thick tensioned soaked air first.

“…if it helps… I have an idea.”

You move to the ground close to him. Then sit down turning your back to him.

“We sit back to back. You’ll sense me moving if I try to turn around, which I promise I won’t. But this way you can eat, even have some water and we can just…just rest.”

You can’t see his eyes even as you stare earnest and even a bit exhausted at him. The mandalorian warrior sighs.

“Fucking fine…but if you dare move I’m setting you on fire.”

“Fair enough.”

The moment Bakugo moves, settles against you back to back, your heart jumps an dizzying spin worthy of a star fighter.

You have never been this close to him, ever.

You’re surprised he actually settled fully pressed against you. His back is solid. The beskar armor is not as cold as you believed it to be, even through your robes. The flickering thought of the differences between your form and his makes your throat get tight as you swallow back something clogging your throat.

A gentle hiss of a noise comes. It gently cracks the air and out of instinct, out of panic, you close your eyes.

In and out, you steady your breathing, focus your thoughts to be mindful of the force. However, even as hard as you try, you wonder so deeply about what he looks like.

“Thanks…ya damn shitty Jedi.”

Then his voice, Bakugo’s actual voice unmodulated, clear and even more rough than you imagined, floats in the air. It gets snagged in your heart.

You squeeze your closed eyes tighter.

During the trials to become a knight, your mentors explained repeatedly that the oath, this path, would be difficult. The temptations would be many and they would be strong. You were taught so many ways to fight and be victorious. But you now fear how hard it might be to fight against the temptation growing in you. Because how are you to win against a warrior considered one of the greatest in the galaxy…

Because you realize slowly, then all at once-

Why did you not just offer to close your eyes? Why was your first instinct to offer sitting as close to him as you could?

[honourablejester]

PF2e Character Concept: Graverobber Ghost Eater Rogue

Since I was talking about grave robbers as a character concept and the lovely fact that Pathfinder actually has that as a background option ... I’m gonna build me a grave robber!

We’re gonna go rogue, because, well, criminal. But. I think for this one, we’re going to try a ruffian rogue. They’re lurking in graveyards, they’re lugging bodies around, they’re shovelling dirt and excavating coffins. They feel very physical. So we’ll go ruffian, and have equal Str and Dex, and for a bonus we’ll be trained in Intimidation. Which feels very right for a grave robber who, again, spends a lot of time lurking in graveyards.

They’re going to carry a shovel. This is important to me. Their equipment has to included a long tool (shovel) and a hooded lantern. The shovel can be used as an improvised weapon (1d6) if they want to. For their actual weapons, I think we’re going to go with a good, old-fashioned club, because they’re a very ‘hit them over the head’ sort of character, and a crossbow for range.

For ancestry …

Look. It’s slightly weird, given their views on ancestors and ancestor worship, but I really want a witch gnoll? Because creepy cackling dark-furred hyena rogue lurking in graveyards. You get some spooky occult spellcasting for free, starting with ghost sound, which feels both very useful and very thematic for a criminal trying to sneak into graveyards to loot bodies/graves. Also, seven foot tall creepy person lurking in graveyards with a shovel. The image is what I’m going for here. Heh.

I am wondering how well a grave robber gels with a gnoll’s reverence for the dead. Does it count if they’re not gnoll dead? They’re not this rogue’s ancestors, so it doesn’t count? Gnolls are also very pragmatic, which fits so well with the ghoulish pragmatism you’d get on a grave robber. They eat their dead, they use their bones. Is this particular gnoll just weirded out by putting the dead in boxes and leaving them to rot, and views grave robbing, in its own weird way, as almost a better way to honour the dead? At least they’re being useful. They’re giving strength, wisdom, prosperity to at least someone, instead of being locked in a box underground to just moulder. Eh, I think I can work something there.

And. On the subject of the dead. The thing about being a grave robber in a fantasy universe is that you’re a lot more likely to run into the undead as well. I do want to add something a little bit mystical to this grave robber. I did consider both the ghost hunter and exorcist archetypes, but … they’re both a bit too finicky? This character is not a grave tender, they’re a grave robber. I wanted something a bit more … pragmatic. Enter the ghost eater archetype, which opens, directly at the dedication feat, with the simple premise of ‘if a ghost hits you, hit it back’. Which I think fits much better for our pragmatic ruffian rogue? *grins* Yes. I think we’ll do that.

For stats, I think we can start with a +3 to Str/Dex, a +1 to Con/Int/Cha, and a +0 to Wis. We’re a thug. A slightly smart, somewhat intimidating thug, but we’re not necessarily all that sensible. Would we be in this business if we were sensible?

Because we’re a rogue, we can be trained in a shit tonne of skills, even with only a +1 Int, so we’ll get Acrobatics, Athletics, Deception, Diplomacy, Intimidation, Lore: Underworld, Society, Stealth and Thievery. We’ve got a couple bonus spots as well, so we’ll also pick up a little bit of Religion and Occultism, because when you hang around in graveyards as often as we do, you pick up some things, and we’ll also take a bit of Medicine just because it’s handy to have. To level, we’ll focus on Acrobatics, Athletics, Intimidation, Stealth and Thievery, and maybe divvy the rest between Society and Occultism.

Bundling this all back together … We’re a seven foot tall burly hyena person who’s fallen, by an odd combination of luck, pragmatism, natural talent, and some odd beliefs about the dead even by gnoll standards, into a career as a grave robber and resurrectionist in a non-gnoll society. Possibly we’re an exile from our tribe, possibly related to said somewhat odd beliefs. But we’re pretty good at our happy new career lurking in graveyards and politely thumping both living and undead nuisances over the head with a lovingly-crafted club and/or our shovel, whichever was fastest to hand. We’re enjoying it, honestly. It’s good, honest work!

Gnoll names are often bone-based, which fits so nicely as well. So we’re going to go a little over the top, here, and call her Knuckle the Lurk. A grave robbing, ghost eating, ruffian rogue. Heh.

[animaticaskblog]

Hiii doorstopper! now that you have joined our silly shenanigans…weapon of choice? for both of you! can be a list too idm :3

i like drills, paintbrushes, scissors, shovels, books, rolled up hello kitty posters (i have actually hit people witj this irl. they got hurt so very good damage points!!!), perfume bottles (actually one of my objectsonas!! also theyre pretty hard. you can hit somebody in the head with it. or you can spray in their eyes!) ooh i also like axes!! (rahh also one of my ocs and partially bc of icp) canes are good. chainsaws and saws seem great. guns are like…ok. overused though. i also really like science-y or explosive things!!! voice/sound is pretty cool. but it wont physically harm your opponent anf make them combative :\\. yoyos are cool. and spoons, though i like more the concept of spoons than the assault uses of spoons. pins and needles are awesome. pillows are juvenile and soft so i only really use them jokingly with friends. fans are rad. id like to hit somebody with a fan one day. (i had to go through the strife specibi list in the ms paint adventures wiki for this and i dont regret it.) fists are cool. but plain. daggers are freakin AWESOME!!! if i had to choose one though…AHH!! I DONT KNOW!! maybe drills, yoyos, scissors? no tengo ni idea. perfume bottles have two purposes tho so maybe…

also question for only animatic, can us fans call you “annie”? like…raggedy anne? whats your opinion on raggedy anne books/movies??? specifically the “raggedy anne and andy: a musical adventure” (its on yt!!) i think theyre really cool :3 at first i liked anne but didnt feel too strongly for her bit shes growing on me. my fav is andy though. babette is cool. shes french and pretty and polite. and i think thats really amazing.

-magician/chip anon

spas 12! theyre my best friend! perfumes bottles are second!

no clue what a raggedy anne is but sure you can call me annie! also i too like perfume bottles

SHUT UP THAT QUESTION WAS FOR ME

[augustjustice]

"Black Comedy Post-Apocalyptic Rom-Com" I gotta know, what's the premise of this one??? The vibes will surely be good!! ^_^

@pizzaqueen​: Totally belated but has anyone asked about Black Comedy Post-Apocalyptic Rom-Com for the WIP game??

Thank you both so much for the ask! I'm excited this one sounds intriguing, even though my word doc is woefully unfleshed out at this point lol. The basic premise of the concept for this fic is that it's set immediately post-Stranger Things Season 4 where Hawkins is basically entering Hell/the Upside Down is encroaching onto the Right Side Up, but...the few citizens of Hawkins left behind are making an attempt to get on like things are business as usual while our plucky band of intrepid heroes have taken up monster slaying on the daily. As you can tell from the doc title, there would definitely be a romance between Steve and Eddie (with some side Robin/Nancy) and the vibes would be very geared toward the mundanity of muddling through an apocalypse while also dealing with silly teenage problems. So, like...Eddie was resurrected after dying in the Upside Down and became a vampire, but he still has to deal with going to school and trying to finally graduate. The older teens decide to ACTUALLY go to prom, and since Hawkins is a ghost town and the dance has paltry attendance of the remaining members of the graduating class they figure, what the hell? And despite it being the 1980s actually openly dance with their real date instead of just acting as each other’s beards all night, that kind of thing. I would mostly just want to focus on the small things in life even during the worst times, with an emphasis on finding the silliness and humor (and romance) in that.

And a snippet to give a sense of what that might sort of look like:

“Eddie spent the night,” Steve says, the casualness of his tone giving way to a grunt as he swings and lands a blow to one of the pack of feral demo–cats? It’s about the size of a cat, at least, and that weird noise it’s making kind of sounds close to a hiss, though who could really tell at this point–that have invaded Mrs. Peterson’s backyard.

Robin just hopes they at least weren’t, like, raccoons, before this. Her fear of rabies is alive and well, and the possibility of getting Upside Down guts all over the ratty jeans that have become her designated monster-hunting pants is not only possible, but inevitable.

“Okay, are we talking spent the night as in…guy time sleepover spent the night, or, you know, spent the night?” Robin laces the words with insinuation, shooting Steve a pointed look, eyebrows raised.

Steve lets out a frustrated huff, running a hand through his hair. Robin doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s wiped a small streak of black demo-cat whatever viscera right down the middle of his famous ‘do.

He’ll see it later. It’s not like they won’t head straight back to the Harrington house to shower after this.

“I don’t know?” Steve admits.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Robin demands, the words undercut by an exasperated laugh.

“Don’t give me that look,” Steve levels the bat at her, pointing it accusingly, “it’s hard, okay, and after I listened to you talk about Vickie for months, you’d think I could get a little solidar–behind you!”

Robin spins around just in time, making a critical hit with the shovel in her hand. Despite her natural lack of coordination, her aim’s getting better all the time.

…The fact that Nancy’s been giving her some private pointers certainly doesn’t hurt.

She turns back to Steve expectantly, picking the thread of their conversation right back up again.

“Okay, well, what happened, exactly?”

“I mean, that’s the thing. Nothing happened, not really. Eddie came over, we smoked a little–it doesn’t do as much for him now, what with the enhanced vampire whatever–and then we just…talked. You know he can’t really sleep anymore, so when I finally drifted off, he, uh…he just kinda stuck around and…held me. He was still there when I woke up this morning.”

Robin’s eyes widen, and Steve ducks his head to avoid her gaze.

“I don’t know, Steve, that sounds pretty romantic to me,” she sing-songs the pretty, putting emphasis on the t as she rolls the word around in her mouth.

“Okay, sure, when you look at it from a certain angle, it totally does. But, then again, it wasn’t anything you and I wouldn’t have done, you know? So I can’t tell if he was cuddling me in, like, a friend way, or–”

“A boyfriend way?” Robin supplies helpfully, grinning wide when the question makes his cheek’s flush.

Steve is momentarily distracted by a screech near his ankle, which he silences with a definitive, bone-crunching thud.

“I mean…” he ignores her interjection, gesturing big and wide, bat wobbling in one hand, “you get what I’m saying though, right? Am I making sense?”

“No less than usual when it comes to your love life,” Robin quips, and gets a nose-scrunching, sour look from Steve for her trouble.

[ballsballsbowls]

If I spent all day screencapping tepid takes on this website, I'd never get anything else done.

But something about "The person making 310k a year is RICH" absolutely took me out today. I feel like I've been hit in the head with a shovel.

Lest you misunderstand me - 310k is a lot more money than me or anyone in my family has ever made in a year. It is, as the OP says, a lot of money proportional to what the average person on this website is making. It's a lot of money compared to what a lot of Professional Jobs make.

But blah blah if they are exchanging their labor for that money they are still not The Rich, you can't even tell who the rich, are, etc etc. If you're unclear on this concept by now on this website I cannot help you. Someone can direct you to some Communism Reading that might clarify this point in a digestible format, but I am not that person.

I had a second point about a LOT of expenses scaling and a lot of people who make 6 figures are losing the same percentage of money on the same expenses so they're not really getting ahead a lot of the time on BASIC stuff let alone expenses that seem frivolous to someone who's struggling and/or childless, but I suspect that would be screenshotted for my future callout post, so just pretend that I wrote it.

[feralmoonlight]

17. what do you do to motivate yourself to write? 

mmmmm, I'm not sure honestly. It's usually more the problem of just keeping myself focused than getting myself to start. I have so many ideas and concepts and things bouncing around in my head at all hours, and it all wants to get out all the time, so I'm usually bouncing around the *checks list* 18 ish documents I have going right now, but staying focused on one (and not on drawing or just consuming tumblr or other fan content) is the major challenge. I don't know how to turn my brain off, or dial it down to focus on one particular story some how, honestly. Even if I end up closing everything else, sometimes the words just don't want to work for that one thing. Usually it's only after I get something else out, whatever tidbit is floating around for some other idea, or throw down a concept that's got me distracted so its just not in my head anymore, it makes me feel like I can wait for someone else's input on it and it's off my list I guess? Gotta shovel all the other shit out of the way to get back to the one I want to focus on, and THEN I can work on something specific, but as far as motivation in a genera sense? I just love creating. It's a core aspect of me as me, and if for some reason I cant, either my emotional state tanks, or I'm somewhere where it's not allowed, or I'm just too tired, I start to feel like a shell of a human if it keeps going, and for a while I did hit that point, and I was just existing to exist, but now that I'm back working on things, drawing, weaving stories, it makes me feel alive again. Not sure if this hit the answer you were curious about but it's what i got XD;

[asterjennifer]

Hello! I'm not sure if you take requests or brainrots but feel free to ignore this if not! It just pop into my mind when I was playing Saeran's route for the sixth time LOL. It makes me wonder what if Saeyoung meet Ray and Suit!Saeran respectively. Like, (spoilers) Seven was still missing at the end of his route but what if after all that and he was found and years later, he just found out that his bro has other persona(?) since Ray was the one who always tended the garden and Suit was more...aggressive than the usual Saeran he knew lol.

I kinda think he'll be heartbroken because Saeran didn't tell him about the two 😭 but it makes me wonder about the possibility that Ray was the one who told Saeran not to say anything about them because he was kinda?? Insecure?? Scared?? Because Saeyoung promised to be together WITH Saeran not WITH Ray and Suit.

Just thought its a good angst/comfort reveal lololol. Have a great day!

🎀 That is a really nice concept if I'm honest. I think Seven and the whole Ray/Suit dynamic could've played out really well from a storytelling standpoint! 🎀

© rinjkk on Twitter

There's more than me

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Pairing: Seven & Saeran (& MC)

Category: Fluff

Warnings: Spoilers

Word count: 2634

Summary: After so long, there are things that come to light. Some more significant than others.

It gives Seven and Saeran some honest conversations about the past.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Saeran kneeled down carefully between the endless sea of flowers planted all around the garden he now owned for himself and his loved ones. How long it took everyone until there's only peace remaining was absurd. He pulled the rubber gloves over his hands, making sure not to get scolded by his Angel again after they whined last time to not just dig his fingers into the dirt raw. Saeran saw no issue, it's not bad coming back messy when taking care of his passion, if anything, he secretly preferred the direct contact with the earth.

Not to mention; it's fun touching what's underneath your fingertips as he forbade himself that joy back at Magenta most of the time due to the gloves he wore. Although there's more benefit in his eyes, they begged to him in a pleading voice. And who's he withholding a wish coming from the love of his life. It's been a while Saeran got used to the new lifestyle, and yet he still dealt with moments of internal doubt about his happiness. They promised him it's fine, that he deserved it more than any other person in the world. Both his Angel and brother reassured him whenever it's necessary.

Saeran took the shovel while lifting the surface of the dirt underneath the blooming hydrangeas, just checking if there's no parasite settling in and playing potential enemy to the beauty he caressed. Saeyoung liked the bush of flower the most, especially afterwards, when Saeran explained the hidden meanings to them. »The hydrangea represents gratitude, grace and beauty.«  He'd told the older one, watching the amber eyes he once carried widen with this particular sparkle of adoration. »Woah! Yeah, I like that. I mean.. I'm sure as hell grateful for everything you've done and overcame, little bro~«

Saeran hit his shoulder that day because it sounded way too cheesy. However, there's no reason to lie since he felt his heart gliding into a peaceful state. A gift in some sense, he thought that moment. Saeran looked up a short second, thicker clouds were gathering all around the precious sky over his head. It would probably start raining later. What a convenience, considering it meant Saeran didn't even have to fetch the watering can from the garden shed. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, revealing the older twin with a box inside his arms. Saeyoung smiled at him, which Saeran tried to return wholeheartedly.

He's still working on some habits, after all. »Hey hey, busy?« The older one asked curious, jumping down the terrace floor and onto the grass. Saeran shrugged, letting the leaves of the flower fall back down into their position. »I'm good. What's that box?« He pointed to the carton, which made Saeyoung wiggle it a bit from left to right. »This, my dear brother, is a small package that arrived for ya~« The older chimed, unable to swallow the laughter by the almost bewildered gaze Saeran showed openly. »What? But I didn't order anything. Are you sure it's not yours instead?« But Saeyoung shook his head, pushing his glasses back up. »Nope. It's for you! I just bought it.«

He held it out, waiting in anticipation for the younger twin to take it. Saeran's eyes widened a bit, pretty surprised even though it's no news Saeyoung had a small addiction to buy things online. As good as every day, there's at least one package arriving at their door. Neither you nor Saeran managed to make him stop though, that's a hopeless task you're attending since moving in together. Saeran rubbed his hands, getting most of the dirt off the gloves before accepting the gift. »Really? Thanks. It wasn't necessary though..« A slim whisper of shame crawled over his cheeks, yet Saeyoung only kneeled down near him with a big smile.

»Nah, I know that. But it had your name labeled on it. I just couldn't resist, ahh..« Saeran smirked by the helpless sigh. Taking the scissors he brought along to cut some striving shrubs. The one with bleached hair cut the tape open thoughtfully. Not that he accidentally left scratches on the contents, that happened one time and that surely was more than enough. »Com'on, Not clamping down on torture! I wanna know if you like it!« Saeyoung waved his hand like they're in a hurry, but Saeran put the box down slowly on purpose for the sake of teasing.

It made the older twin sit down at the grass as another, dramatic sigh fell over his lips. »You're mean, Sae!« But he just smiled to himself when opening the carton. »Hm, am I? Couldn't tell.« He then peaked, a little noise coming out his mouth after realizing what's waiting inside. »It's...« Saeran pulled the brand-new book out, inspecting the cover first. It's a flower history book, that conclusion made him stare up in question. The redhead rubbed nervousness away from his cheek, avoiding eye contact for some reason. »I know you uh.. You have plenty of books talking about language and whatnot. I thought it's cool to have one about the emergence of the flower language.«

He suddenly lifted both hands, seemingly excited. »It starts waaay back at the ancient Egypt! It's insane! I thought you might like to have it.« His voice ended up mumbling, quite hard to understand. The usual rollercoaster of motions the redhead struggled containing. Saeran turned the book like it's an excavation of a valuable piece of contemporary history, eyeing the words, fond, pictures sensually. Another wave of warmth crashed into his chest, followed by a timid 'thank you' for the consideration. A gift's always coming with the secure emotion of gratitude, whereas other people seem clueless to such reaction, his brother understood without a word exchanged.

To know there's someone who cared, people willing learning about the depths inside his heart and staying nevertheless. He's truly a lucky man. Saeran laid it down in his lap, none of the darker clouds above reflecting in his eyes. Only the clear blue created by happiness. »I mean it. Thank you, Saeyoung. I really like it.« His brother huffed relieved. »Glad you like it as much as I do!« They stayed silent, no need to pressure words if the air's already conveying meanings by itself. There's a calm that's often impossible to maintain given the older twin's energized behavior, Saeran appreciated the times of peace a tad more, which he couldn't bring over his heart to point out.

»Ray!« Another voice calling out to him's like a melody, forcing a smile to his lips once his Angel stuck their body through the door. He titled his head, Saeyoung immediately threw his head back to make out their shape. Finding them peeking through with a tiny hand placed onto the door frame. Saeran couldn't help it, it's so adorable. »Yes, love?« Your cute expression melted his heart like nobody's business. »Oh, Saeyoung you too! Perfect. I just wanted to know what you'd like to eat today? Since, you know.. My turn to cook.« A giggle filled his ears, lingering sweetly.

»Whatever you chose, my love. Everything you make is amazing.« Despite you thanking him for the compliment, they both could tell that's not the answer you're seeking. The redhead took the burden off your shoulders instead by gasping. »Oh, I know! What about pasta? Hadn't that in a second.« Your eyes wandered back to Saeran, obviously waiting if that's fine with him as well. It caused his heart beat to increase. As he nodded in agreement, your smile reached your eyes. »Sweet! I feel like pasta, too. I start cooking then!« You waved at the brothers, leaving again to get the work done.

After your steps silenced, Saeyoung turned his head back. There's a slight uncertain touch to the way he saw through Saeran's mind. »What?« But the older one just bit his lower lip. letting the focus drift over the plants instead. »It reminded me.. There's something I wanted to ask for a while now.« The serious tone told Saeran everything he needed to know, therefore he hummed. It costed Saeyoung a long intake of air, having the one across wonder what exactly's plaguing his head. And that for a while, apparently. »Well.. I never came to understand why- Well..«  He collected his words, rushing through the red chaos on his head in order to smooth his nerves better.

»Why do they call you Ray sometimes..? Is that, like, a nickname I'm unaware of?« Saeran's back straightened in alarming rate, making Saeyoung stutter out an apology right away. It reached Saeran's ears muffled though. It's true, once Mint Eye was out of his priorities, he smoothed your desperation when allowing you to use both names as you liked. Which led to you calling him by both. Albeit Saeran being your personal favorite, Ray's still popping up here and there. Depending on your mood, or rather his, you switched without thinking. How come the one with ocean-colored eyes didn't cross the thought of his twin feeling confused?

When it's conspicuous and justified. Saeyoung let his head fall forward in defeat. »I'm just lost, sorry.. If it's a touchy subject then we can leave it be.« The apology's bitter on Saeran's tongue, because there's really no reason for one. »It's fine. It's..« His words caught in the back of his throat since he's less than prepared for this conversation. Back at Magenta, Saeran told Ray over and over to never reveal his name to others, specifically when it came to the RFA. They're not supposed to learn about him in any way, that's a secret rule his Savior- no.. Rika tasked in between the sea of hacking.

Saeran's hidden in the shadows whenever Ray's awake, telling people beforehand he's not the only one occupying this body, it'd take power away. That's what she preached on end, saying that Ray didn't have much to begin with which should make him cherish the bit he did own treat with caution. Once Ray vanished, however, things became messy to the point it's out of his control. »You're both! Saeran and Ray, it doesn't matter.. You're one person.« That what you tried to engrave into his consciousness for what felt like an eternity. »You've always been one.. That's why I love every side of you.« The words never failed to have the younger Choi tear up.

You had experienced the change first hand, but Saeyoung hadn't been there to witness. Saeran never spoke of Ray before, either. On one hand because you didn't like it when he split those names. Maybe you're subliminal with your opinions, but Saeran could read you like an open book, knowing regardless how it made you feel. On the other there never seemed to be a reason for it. That's past which felt insignificant these days, he just never considered it might be important to his brother. Maybe that'd been wrong, despite his habits screaming otherwise. »Saeran..? Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trigger..« Saeyoung whined, that tip-toe tone he disliked the most.

As many bad habits as Saeran held onto, Saeyoung's often no better. This particular treatment of guilt made the older one with glasses come across as if he's dealing with some porcelain doll instead of a human being. »Stop pitying me, I'm okay. Let me think.« He rubbed his eyes, hearing Saeyoung give a little sound of acknowledgement. How to start? More important; where to start? He could tell this was going to become messy. »Ray's.. Let's just say Ray is the child you knew back home.« Unsure how to phrase it, Saeran picked his words wisely. It's surely hard to comprehend if you're not familiar with such process. »Ray was another one in here for the longest time.«

He pointed to his chest, right above his heart. Somehow the sentences came out fluently and honestly? Saeran's surprised about that himself. To talk about the flower boy this way, it 's been what felt like ages. As if bringing awareness to it influenced how he felt deep inside. Who knew, maybe it did. He had no way of knowing. »(N) met Ray first, too. But.. Ray sometimes left the control to m- Saeran.« He corrected quickly. It's awkward to talk this over, especially to Saeyoung hearing the story. His therapist once calmed him, promising he didn't have to tell his twin everything that happened. Yet it's Saeran's decision, here. It felt okay.

It was okay, he replayed the comfort using your voice while gathering his memories. »Saeran is.. angry. And more pessimistic. Um-« He stopped himself, taking a look at the invested expression on Saeyoung's face. A bit of shock to discover, some confusion still left as his brows frowned slightly. Saeran licked his dry lips, stroking his hand over the book cover. »But (N) showed me that I'm not actually.. I'm me now.« That came out rather dull, Saeran could've facepalmed himself for it. Habits, he figured. »I'm going by both names, I told (N) that when we left Mint Eye. But I'm not just Saeran or just Ray anymore. I'm both.. kinda. It's hard to explain.«

He wheezed the tension out, this vulnerable fear nagged on his soul. What if this was a mistake? Would his brother be able to understand? »I never knew about that..« The older one whispered, leaving Saeran on the edge considering he could neither categorize the tone of voice very well, nor predict which meaning his thoughts had. »Thanks. For telling me. haha ..« The emotional giggle gifted the younger one the courage to look back up. It scared him to death as Saeyoung teared up. »Man, you amaze me so much these days! There's so much to you.. I can't catch up, it seems.« He smiled through the tears.

Saeran lifted his hand, hanging uselessly in the air as he's uncertain what to do. It hurt seeing Saeyoung wipe his eyes dry after taking off his glasses, did he do the wrong thing by confessing? »I feel like I missed out on.. everything. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you.. you know.« Now his hand moved by itself, landing on the older twins' shoulder. »Hey, it's alright. I had (N) to help me.. I'm good now— stop crying.« He ended up pushing further when squeezing Saeyoung's shoulder. The redhead sniffed away the overwhelm, nodding to himself rather than the other.

»Yeah, yeah.. I know that. Still. I'm glad you told me. Thanks for sharing that with me, it means the world to me.« Saeran didn't need to pay attention to the sincere smile to know he meant it from the bottom of his heart. That's good, better than he expected. »Sure, I guess it's worth telling you about- Huh?« Cool hit his forehead, followed by more until he realized there're raindrops falling from the sky. Saeran stood up to shield the book better, stretching out his hand to the older one. »Come, it's raining. I don't want the book to get wet.« Saeyoung chuckled amused, accepting the offer and stood up as well.

»Right! (N)'s probably done with dinner soon. I'm damn hungry, anyway.« Saeran raised an eyebrow since the timing's perfect for Saeyoung's stomach to rumble. It made him roll his bright eyes. »No wonder after living on chips and cola for years on end, idiot.« The redhead gasped, pressing his hand to his chest. Freed of the shock, both appreciated the moment regardless. »How can you be so cold!! I'm hurt, Saeran!« The younger referred from chuckling, holding the door open instead. » Hmh, whatever you feel due to my words isn't real. Now get in.« Again, another loud sniff after stepping inside. »Pain, Saeran... My pain is real and you're mean!«

[farfromsugafanfic]

Dance Lessons

Genre: Hogwarts AU, friends to lovers, fluff

Pairing: Hoseok/Reader

Warnings: drinking, mentions of bullying, tooth rotting fluff

Synopsis: Your friends are absolutely stunned when you say you’re not going to attend Yule Ball. When they find out it’s because your embarrassed to dance, your friend Hobi offers to give you a lesson. If only he knew he was the reason why.

Note: I’m not really satisfied with this but I’ve been blocked lately and it’s the best I can do at the moment. I’ll probably write him another Hogwarts AU eventually with a better concept. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this fluffy mess of a one shot

vVv

"So," Taehyung said. "Does everyone have dates for Yule Ball yet?" His cheeks were stuffed with hot dumplings, but he didn't seem to notice as steam escaped his mouth. 

You tried sinking into the bench and took a bite of your mash potatoes, hoping that by stuffing your mouth no one would pry further. Luckily, someone else piped up before you. 

"I'm going with Hye-jung," your best friend, Hoseok said. 

Your heart dropped and you shoveled another spoonful of potatoes into your mouth. Bangers and mash is your ultimate comfort food--the magic of Hogwarts and the house elves somehow knowing you needed it.

"It's so unfair that the two best dancers always go together," Jinjoo said. She glanced over at you. You imagined that your red hair resembled a lion's main and your cheeks matched the color. "You always steal the show."

Hobi shrugged. "We just dance well together." 

"It's not like you like Hye-jung though," you said, finally swallowed the potatoes and carefully used a cooling spell to quell the heat that had risen in your cheeks. "What if someone asked you otherwise? Would you go with them?" 

Hoseok looked down at his bowl of ramen and stirred it before looking back up. "I don't know. It would depend on who it was." 

A moment of silence passed over the four of you. Despite the mass chatter of the rest of the Great Hall, the quiet passed between you like a dense morning fog. 

"What about you, Taehyung?" Hobi asked. "Who's your date?" 

"Oh, uh," Taehyung squirmed in his seat. "I asked Jinjoo."

Jinjoo smiled and bit back a laugh. "And I said yes. Goodness Tae, there's no reason to be so shy." 

You caught the small way Jinjoo continued to smile, even after she returned to eating. While it came as a surprise that Taehyung and Jinjoo were going together, the two had always seemed to click in a way you didn't seem to understand. Much like you and Hoseok. 

"What about you, Y/N?" Hobi asked, turning to look at you. His large brown eyes bore into you like a hungry puppy's. "Have you found some poor soul to take you yet?"

"I, uh," you glanced between your friends. Jinjoo shot you a sympathetic look and Taehyung watched you blankly, waiting for you to continue. "I'm not going." 

Your friends all paused and three pairs of eyes looked at you with concern and pity. This is exactly what you were afraid of and you had to hold yourself back from sighing and letting your face fall in your hands.

"You don't have to have a date, you know? You can come with me and Tae," Jinjoo said, looping her arm with Taehyung's. 

"No, no," you said. "It was my choice, really. I would just drag down whoever I'm with." 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

You turned away from Jinjoo because you felt another pair of eyes on you. Hobi was still looking at you, a small line forming between his brows as his eyes looked you up and down.

"It's not that I don't have a date. It's that I can't dance."

Your friends were silent before breaking out into laughter. "Is that really why?"

"Y/N, we've all seen you dance before. What's the big deal?" 

You were certain none of them remembered and you knew you shouldn't have let it bother you so much. You shook your head, trying to change the subject. 

vVv

It was the last party before the summer. Hufflepuff had won the House Cup for the first time in twenty years. Fire whiskey and spiked butterbeer were making the rounds. Being close to the kitchens meant that the Hufflepuffs were closest to the stash of alcohol for the professors and house elves.

"You know, it's ironic we're breaking all these rules after we won the House Cup," you said, simultaneously stuffing three bottles of Fire whiskey into your bag with an extendable charm.

"We were good all year," Jinjoo said, miniaturizing bottles and putting them into her sweatshirt pocket. You laughed and quickly zipped up your bag, careful to leave a few bottles behind so that it wouldn't be obvious that students had swiped some from the stash.

The majority of Hufflepuff House barely remembers the rest of the night. Most of the first through third years had fallen asleep or drank so much they passed out, the mid-years were barely coherent and keeping the party going, and the sixth and seventh years had either called it a night or sat in the corner pretending to keep an eye on the younger ones.

Your friends were a mix. Jinjoo had fallen asleep on Taehyung's shoulder and Taehyung pretended not to be absolutely charmed. He didn't drink, but had eaten enough that night that he might as well have been in a stupor as well. Hoseok--despite normally becoming a depressed and tired version of himself--was out on the dancefloor with the fourth and fifth years. His eyes wore dark cloaks and he looked nearly ready to collapse at any moment, yet he still stayed perfectly on beat.

"Y/N!" he called to you from the dancefloor. He held up the half full beer bottle in his hand as an invitation. "Come dance!" 

Your body stiffened. It wasn't that you didn't like dancing, it was usually just something you did on the rare occasions that you had the dorm room to yourself. Hoseok, though, dance was practically his life. He might be at Hogwarts studying magic, but before that he'd been at a fancy muggle arts school studying dance. Hoseok even took dance classes over the summer. 

It seemed somewhat stupid to worry about what Hoseok would think. He was one of your longest friends, having met on your first day of Hogwarts after you got sorted into Hufflepuff directly after him. His smile never failed to let you down and there was nothing in the world--you thought--that would ever dim the brightness Hoseok made you feel. 

Yet, much of his sun set when he drank. While he still ruled the dancefloor, you could see the chemically induced exhaustion and depression weighing under his eyes. As you approached him, he wore a small, forced smile. His hand reached out for your wrist and you felt electricity spark through you like you'd been hit with a hex. 

You started bobbing up and down like you'd watched the other kids who didn't know how to dance do. You felt awkward, all of the movement coming from your knees. You imagined that you probably looked pretty awkward too. 

Hobi, on the other hand, was moving flawlessly to the beat. Popping and locking in a way that looked fluid and clean, like a well oiled machine. His natural talent was always something you'd admired about him. Yet, you couldn't help but compare yourself with your best friend. Why did he want to dance with you when he was so good and you were just--well--bad?

Hobi let out a small, half hearted laugh. "Looks like you could use some dance lessons." His hands reached out and lightly took your hips, something he never would've been bold enough to do sober. If the small touch to your wrist was a hex, this was the Cruciatus curse. "Come on, just move your hips in time with the music."

When you failed to do so, not exactly sure what he meant by 'time', he let out a full belly laugh this time, though it was interrupted by a Butterbeer induced belch. "You really are bad. Didn't think they knew what they were talking about?"

Your body froze and your face fell. "Who didn't you think they knew what you were talking about?"

Hoseok pointed to the opposite side of the room from where you had stood earlier. "Mary and Perri. They bet me a galleon that you'd make a fool of yourself if I invited you to dance." 

At this, your heart sank. Hufflepuff--despite its value of kindness overall--still had its bullies. And they were Mary and Perri, a pair of twins who loved to torment you and flirted with Hoseok any chance they got. Normally, Hoseok was polite to them, but would generally avoid their presence. A sober Hoseok never would've made some stupid bet and told the twins that he loved your awkward little bend at the knee dance.

Knowing this wasn't the true Hoseok didn't stop your chest from constricting and the words from slicing through your chest. You wanted to cry, but more than anything wanted to get out of the party. Hoseok--even in his drunken state--paused when he noticed the pained look on your face. 

Before he could ask what was wrong or say anything else idiotic, you said, "I just remembered I have a lot of packing to do before we leave tomorrow. I'll--I'll see you in the morning."

Heading to the room you shared the rest of the fifth soon-to-be sixth years, you changed into your pajamas and threw your clothes into one of your already packed suitcases. It didn't take you long to find sleep.

vVv

You were positive that Hoseok doesn't remember that night. In fact, based upon his fuzzy recollection that he was the one who received the last few points needed to win the Cup, you knew he barely remembered anything after three pm that day.

As you came out of your thoughts, it felt like you were breaching the surface of the water. Like someone pulled you out before you could lose consciousness and drown.

"If you're really so worried about it, I bet there's like a potion or a charm or something that could make you dance better."

You paused with another scoop of mashed potatoes halfway to your mouth. You'd never considered that possibility. Leave it to Jinjoo--the smartest girl you knew outside of Ravenclaw--to so blatantly put it out there. 

"Or, I could teach you," Hoseok said, his voice holding a different quality than normal. "You don't need to do anything fancy." 

You were about to politely decline in favor of Jinjoo's idea when she spoke up. "Actually, I like that idea better. Hoseok could give you better moves than any potion." She glanced over at Taehyung and they seemed to share a moment.

"We could use the Room of Requirement too. That way no one would find us and you won't be too embarrassed."

You could hardly argue with his logic and there was something about the look in Hoseok's eyes that had you agreeing. He was one of your oldest friends, yet, you'd never seen him look at anyone with his eyes softened like they were.

"Meet me there tonight then," Hoseok said. "Just after curfew."

vVv

Casting the Disillusionment Charm, you crept down the corridor towards the Room of Requirement. You and your friends had done this many times when you wanted to hang out after curfew outside the dorms. Never once had you been caught. Still, you felt your heart racing as your turned down the correct corridor. 

Entering the Room of Requirement, you let down the charm and saw Hoseok standing near the middle of the room. The room had transformed itself into a small dance studio with mirrors along one of the walls and shiny hardwood floors. 

"Hey Y/N," Hoseok said, his heart-shaped smile not allowing your heart to slow. "Ready?" He approached you and his hand came to your wrist. His thumb running over the delicate skin of the inside of your wrist, it made you shudder. "You seem nervous."

You shook your head, denying the obvious. He didn't push you further, simply turning on some music. "Just dance," he said, beginning his own fluid movements. He played some muggle music that you'd never heard before, but you liked the beat. No matter what he did, it seemed to move perfectly to the beat of the music. 

You tried your best to follow along, moving your hips in small restricted movements. Occasionally, you tried to bring your arms into it, but would quickly drop them back to your sides when you realized you didn't know what to do with them. 

Hoseok laughed, but unlike before where his drunken laugh cut through your skin and bone, this time, it seemed to rise with the crescendo of the music. 

"You're cute," he said. "I don't need to teach you anything."

You stopped and the music stopped too. As if controlled by your thoughts and actions. Hoseok's gaze returned to the one from earlier in the cafeteria, soft but also penetrating. Like a dull knife through butter. 

"But, people make fun of me," you said, pouting. This only made Hoseok laugh again and he moved closer to you, lightly grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. His other hand lightly grabbed your wrist. You swore that the room's temperature rose.

"Who makes fun of you?" Velvet was the only way to describe his voice. 

"Mary and Perri."

"Since when do you care what they think?"

"Well, they're not the only ones."

"Mm?" Hoseok arched an eyebrow, but otherwise, his face stayed static. The emotions you could read sitting somewhere between content and provocative. 

"It was also--"

"Me?"

You felt the blood drain from your face and your whole body stiffen. When he felt you go rigid, Hoseok loosened his touch on your wrist, but didn't pull away. 

"You remember?"

"No, I don't."

"Then, how do you--?

Hoseok pointed up to his head, an amused look on his face. "I'm practicing Legilimency, remember?"

He read your mind. Jung Hoseok read your mind. Nothing made you want to crawl into a ball and disappear into a far corner of the Room of Requirement more. 

"I didn't really mean to, but your mind is so easy to walk into. You really should work on that." He winked at you and pulled you into his chest. He'd noticed the way you brought your hands to cover your face and let your hair fall in from of your cheeks. His hands wrapped around your back and held you softly. "I am sorry, Y/N. The alcohol isn't an excuse for what I said or did, even if I don't remember it. It was stupid and untrue."

You pulled your head from the warm embrace of his chest to look up at him. "I forgave you a long time ago, Hobi. I know you didn't mean it."

"So, if I tell you that I think it's cute when you dance and are a little offbeat, will you go to Yule Ball with me?"

"Aren't you going with Hye-jung?"

"There's been a change of plans."

[actualbird]

djgdgj I was having such a fun time reading Luke and mc's suffering with beer and then you hit me with Vyn's section wHY

Poor Luke and mc having to drink beer of all things. Literally everyone around me who drinks talks about how it tastes bad so my heart goes out to the two of them. From then on the two of them never go near beer ever again.

Marius making fun of Vyn and his wine tasting fgidgi perfection. There's this post on tumblr talking about how easy it is to scam wine connoisseurs and how they can't tell the difference between the high quality vintage wine and cheap wine. Once Marius finds it it's over for Vyn. Marius just gained some incredibly strong ammo and he will absolutely use it as much as he can. It'll be an exercise in self restraint for Vyn to not bash him over the head after that. The last section with Vyn and his father had me in so much pain. To have something he liked be ruined by memories...

dgjdfu poor Marius alcohol really doesn't taste good to a child. I'm just imagining mc mentioning the whiskey Luke had in his Christmas SR and Marius immediately being disappointed in Luke. He respects his tastes and the sentimental value of the whiskey but also his tastes are wrong.

DGJDGDJ CELESTINE GOING TO BRING A SHOVEL I LOVE HER. Artem don't complain your friends are amazing and I wish I had them. Celestine and Neil never let him near alcohol when it's not for work reasons ever again. After Atmospherics, Artem wakes up with a hangover, remembers the behaviour that Neil and Celestine noted down and immediately starts panicking. He really did just subject mc to his drunken shenanigans.

All of them are braver than me sigh the smell of alcohol alone ensures I'm never touching it if I can help it. I absolutely loved this headcanon alcohol shenanigans are my absolute favourite.

🌌

irt when and how each of the nxx team first drank alcohol

hi, milkyway :DDD

i gotta keep u guys on ur toes!!! funnies one second, strained relationship with vyn's father in the next second, HAHA.

i did try to temper vyn's section with marius being a loveable pain in the ass and kjBKSJKF UR RIGHT!! idk anything about winetasting, both how it supposedly works and how it's supposedly ease to fool winetasters, but if marius manages to convince vyn that this 5stellin bottle of wine is tooootally a renowned vintage from a little unknown town in italy, well. marius is never gonna let vyn live that down.

but yep, ive been on a kick lately of thinking about vyn's relationship with his dad. i watched vyn's bday2 ssr where his dad shows up but i watched it when i had covid HAHA so my memory is kinda fuzzy but overall there was just this vibe like......it's not an unsalvageable relationship, but it's one that has vibes from vyn that are like "why are you here i dislike you i do not want to see you" and vibes from dad de haspran that are like "i wish i was a better father." or maybe that was my covid symptoms talking, i'll have to rewatch the card HAHA.

beer sucks!! IT SUCKS, IT TASTES SO BAD I HATE IT!!! but also when i was a teenager, beer was like the most common alcohol to know about? also the easiest to buy and smuggle places esp if ur Not Sposed To Have It. shoutout to that legendary student in my high school who apparently filled their jug with some kind of alcoholic drink and took swigs of it in class and did not get caught. insane behavior but also rlly impressive!!!

luke and mc dont stay away from all beers after that, but they never drink that specific brand ever again. and in general, beers r just on thin ice. luke, once hes got his bartending experience, can mix drinks that taste waaaaay better

JSBFKJSD WAIT UR RIGHT LOL, this hc in conjunction with SSR Atmospherics creates that hilarious reaction from artem. he panic texts celestine before coming into the office in the last bit of that story like "Does she look disgusted by the general order of the world and maybe the entire concept of who I am as a person?" and celestine texts back "She mostly just looks sleepy, lol"

and all i will say about marius is this: BLEH!!!!!

glad u liked the hc post hehe :3!!!

[i-call-me-clarence]

Life’s a Cemetery (Dig It)

Kevin and Jack get their hands dirty on grave duty. 

Rated G 

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Fic below the cut

----

“You sure you’re good?” Dean asks for the third time. 

“Kevin is here, and if anything happens we have angel blades and silver bullets,” Jack answers, making a little wave motion at Kevin who’s silently asking him how much longer he’s going to be on the phone. Kevin rolls his eyes and goes back to leaning on his shovel, refusing to start digging until Jack joins him. Jack doesn’t want to keep him waiting any longer, “Dean, I’m sorry, but I have to--”

“And you’ve got the iron poker, right? And the holy water?”

“We still have everything in the pack you left us.” 

“But did you double-check? A real hunter always double checks, triple even--”

Before Jack can respond Kevin is taking the phone from Jack’s hands, “Believe it or not the ex-god and current prophet know what they’re doing. Bye.” and he hangs up the phone. 

Jack gives Kevin an apologetic shrug of his mouth as Kevin hands back the phone, slapping it into Jack’s hand. “He’s protective.”

“He’s turned into a helicopter parent. If I wanted that I’d just go back home.” 

“But that would put your mother at risk.” Jack tilts his head in confusion.

Kevin rolls his eyes and tosses Jack a shovel, “Come on. Let’s get this done before the sun goes down.” 

---

Three hours after sunset and they’re still digging. Jack started feeling lightheaded thirty minutes ago, and it’s gotten to the point where he needs to sit down. 

“I’m sorry, I have to--” Jack ends up thunking down on his butt before he can finish.

“Hey, are you okay?” Kevin asks warily, stopping his digging and leaning against his shovel, “Is the talisman wearing off or something?” 

“I--I don’t have a talisman,” Jack’s body is shaking and he’s starting to feel nauseous. Perhaps he should have listened to his body hours ago when it screamed at him to rest. But Kevin had kept going and he’d said he wouldn’t dig alone so…

“You don’t have an energy talisman?!” Kevin gaps at him and drops his shovel, “Are you kidding me?! You do realize you’re basically human now?” 

How could Jack forget? Being human was so difficult that it was impossible not to be reminded of it constantly. Even when he slept. He didn’t use to sleep as a Nephilim...or as God. But Amara’s taking care of that now. Letting Jack have a ‘normal childhood’ as she’d said. Something she was envious of and didn’t want Jack to miss. ‘Even Chuck let himself have one. After he invented the concept.’ when she’d told him that it was clear she was hiding a deep sadness. Jack had decided after his childhood was over, he’d take over as God again so she could have one too.  

“How are you even standing?!” 

“I’m...not.” 

Kevin looks at Jack, taking notice of the way he was starting to sway a little. Before cursing and getting down on his knees next to Jack. 

He grabs a hold of both sides of the necklace his talisman was supposedly attached to, “I’m going to regret this,” Kevin groans, before taking off the necklace and holding it out to Jack. A green light pulses from Kevin’s chest, swirling around his arm, before being sucked into the little medallion hanging from the golden chain in Kevin’s outstretched hand. 

Jack quickly takes the necklace, seeing the sudden strain in Kevin. As soon as he has it, Kevin lays back with a dull thud as his body hits the earth. 

“Oh my god,” he gasps, suddenly breathing very heavily. “Worst part about that talisman,” he pants, “After you take it off, you feel every bit of exertion. All at once. Oh, I’m gonna die.” 

Jack puts on the talisman and instantly feels better. Better than he’d felt since turning human. He wonders what would happen if you kept the necklace on all the time--

“And if you’re tingling from the charm and wondering ‘why can’t I wear this all the time,’” Kevin says in a deep mocking voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean, “Just look at me after five hours. Imagine a week, or even just a whole day.”

“It kills you?”

“It kills you.”

“I can finish this alone.” 

“Yeah, but first,” Kevin tried to sit up, grunting in pain, “Help me out of this damn hole.”

---

It had been an hour since Jack started digging by himself, making a grand total of eight hours. Just a constant monotony of stab scrape shovel. At least Jack felt pretty good with this talisman, and at least they were almost done. 

Stab, scrape, shovel. Stab scrape shovel. Stab--THUD!

Jack gasps in surprise, and Kevin leans over the opening of the hole to look down at Jack equally surprised, and elated. 

“Oh my god,” he laughs, falling back on the grass, “We finally did it,” Jack hears him say. And then he groans, “But now I have to move.”

“If I were still God I could read this. Or create new eyes that could,” Jack notes, scrapes the remaining dirt off the coffin with his hands. 

“If you were still God we probably wouldn’t even need this spell. And if we did, you could just teleport the tome out without all this bullshit.” 

A reneged sector of angels, lead by the angel Inias, had decided to declare war on all remaining prophets. They thought they could use them to find a way to spy on Amara and overthrow her from, well, Goddesshood. This was the grave of a prophet, and inside was a tome they were buried with that held a spell to make prophets invisible to angels and demons. Probably how she lived long enough to die of old age. At first Jack had been sad, thinking this would mean he wouldn’t get to see Kevin anymore. But Sam said he was pretty sure that he could rework the spell so any angels or demons that gave of their blood in the ceremony would be able to still see prophets. 

Jack hopes so.

Kevin leans his head over the grave again, wincing. “Wow, now that you’ve uncovered it, those sigils are really bright.” 

Jack agrees, though what seemed like blue glowing sigils to them wouldn’t appear at all to normal humans.

Jack opens his mouth to say so but is cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket.

“Is that Dean again?” Kevin asks tersely. 

Jack checks the caller ID and nods.

“Hand it here,” Kevin says, lunging his arm forward and down.

Jack hands over the phone and Kevin rolls back over with it, out of sight.

“Dean?” Jack hears him say. “Bring burgers and water.” A pause where Kevin must have been about to hang up because he says, “Oh, and get your asses over here.” and Jack hears a beep from the call ending. 

“Here you go,” Kevin dangles his arm over into the grave, phone in hand.

-----

They eat inside the impala--Kevin mostly chugs water at first--with the engine idling and cabin lights on. Kevin and Jack are both filthy, but Dean doesn’t mind. ‘Part of bein’ a Hunter’ he’d said. Back in the old times, Cas or Jack would clean everybody up. But seeing as they were both human now, he and Kevin were doomed to be dirt-covered.

“How did it go?” Castiel asks from the front seat, mouth half full of burger, “You didn’t run into any problems?” Castiel had been wearing his regular suit before he’d left but was now wearing a space cats hoodie he’d gotten for himself when he took Jack to Hot Topic. He must have brought it with him in the car.

Kevin stops chugging water to answer, “No ghouls, no cops, no cemetery keepers or grieving loved ones, though that last one would be unlikely seeing as she was buried three hundred years ago. Where’s my burger?”

“Got you four,” Dean grins and waggles his eyebrows. 

“I may just be able to eat that many.”

“Yeah and I’ll finish whatever you don’t. That goes for everybody.” Dean continues.

“Didn’t you just get back from a dinner date?” Kevin asks suspiciously, “Actually, if you didn’t, don’t answer, I don’t wanna know.”

“We did just get back from dinner…” Cas starts slowly. “It was, uh...fancy.” 

“Too fancy,” Dean grumbles.

“Ah. Small portion sizes.” Kevin nods, but then pauses, “Aren’t you supposed to have fifteen courses or something?”

“Yeah well, we got a call three courses in to deliver some emergency burgers.” Dean shrugs, “Prefer the burgers anyway.” 

“Jack, are you wearing an amulet?” 

Jack jerks as he realizes he forgot to take it off, “Uh oh,” he says, setting down his burger. “I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“What’s happening?” Dean asks looking around the cabin, panicked.

“Jack left an energy talisman on too long.” Cas sighs, looking sorry.

“Ohoho buddy,” Dean says into the air,  smiling but also looking kind of sorry too, and even more so when he meets Jack’s eyes. He pauses. “Yeah bud, uh, that’s gonna be a bitch to take off.” He frowns.

Jack grabs the golden chain--

“Woah, man, what are you doing?” Kevin gasps after having grabbed Jack’s arm and stopping him from taking off the talisman. 

“Will it kill me?” Jack asks everybody, suddenly nervous.

“Well, no,” Dean begins, winces, “It’s just gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Then shouldn’t I get it over with?” Jack asks, confused.

“You might pass out,” Castiel warns gently.

“You’re probably gonna wanna go with the passing out,” Kevin says, putting a bracing arm on Jack’s shoulder “It’ll suck less.”

Kevin nods at him and Jack takes that as a sign it’s time to take the talisman off. He lifts the chain up and off, and then something strange happens. 

A green light swirls from both Jack and Kevin’s chests and swirls into the amulet. 

Both of them double over. 

“Woah! You kids alright?” Dean asks, lunging a hand over the backseat to touch Jack’s back, as Castiel quickly spins out of the car and back in at Kevin’s door, holding him up, checking his eyes and tongue, he goes to stick his finger in Kevin’s ear to take his temperature before remembering he can’t do that anymore. 

“Kevin? Are you okay? Jack! Jack, are you okay?” Castiel asks urgently.

“Goddammit,” Kevin sighs, “Twice in one night, oh man I’m really gonna die.” then he looks at Castiel before reassuring, “Really, it wasn’t that bad.” Kevin turns to Jack, “How do you feel?”

“...Not that bad,” he answers truthfully.

“Hot damn.” Dean is smiling, leaning back into his seat, “Well now we know that’s a thing!” 

“It could potentially save lives,” Castiel agreed. “I’ll have Sam tell the other hunters...though this may just be a situational occurrence between a prophet and a Nephilim. Who knows really.”

“It was still pretty cool,” Dean defends. 

Castiel gets back into the car. 

“And I’m not denying that. Why do you always jump to conclusions?”

“What are you talking about ‘always?’” Dean grunts back and starts up the car, pulling out of the cemetery parking lot.

Kevin and Jack tune Dean and Cas out. 

“That was pretty cool,” Kevin says.

“Yeah,” Jack frowns, looking at his friend. “We’re going to perform the ceremony when we get back.” This may be one of the last times he ever sees or hears him again.

Kevin puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Even if we have to do it by proxy for a little while, I won’t stop being your friend. Okay?” 

Jack smiled, putting a hand on Kevin’s shoulder too, which may have been weird or awkward but seemed like the thing to do. 

Kevin smiles at Jack before patting his shoulder and saying “I’m going to pass out now.” 

Jack nods and Kevin immediately drops his head back onto his seat and starts snoring. 

Jack leans back in his own seat, feeling exhausted as well. Dean and Cas have stopped arguing and put the radio on low, laughing at j=okes here and there as they talk softly. 

The running engine and metronome light of street lamps going by, and the familiar classic rock playing all seemed to be in some sort of competition with who could lull Jack to sleep first. The sound of the impala won. 

The End

[trentsleatherboots]

Carach Angren, interview translation Dutch > English

Published in the magazine Rock Tribune, edition June 2020, nr. 192.

Text by Morbid Geert. Fotos: Stefan Heileman.

WILL THE REAL FRANKENSTEIN STAND UP NOW?

At the end of last year you could already read about how we kept close watch on Carach Angren. Back when they were still heavy in the production process, on Halloween Day we went over to Ardeks homebase and studio to see the first glimpse of their new work and later Rock Tribune got invited to listen to the album in Germany. Now it's almost time for 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus' to be shown to the world and that's why we wanted to take an even deeper look. Weaponed with an oil lamp and shovel we went onwards towards the graveyard to uncover the soul stirrings of Ardek. (Text: Morbid Geert)

---

Ardek, the last time I talked to you the songs were still in a very early stage and what we heard was more of a pre production. Did you tinker more afterwards to come to an end result or did you purposely keep your hands off to avoid overproduction?

"In terms of song structures and lyrics not much changed on the premature songs that you heard. What followed however was another production-finish, where especially the mix and mastering made a big change. That last stadia really lifted it all to another plane and you can really hear that."

A FRESH LOOK.

As far as I knew, Patrick Damiani was still fully onboard working on the songs at Tidal Wave Studio in Germany. How important was it for you to pull an extra producer into the process? After all, you are very much at home with that as well? Or maybe not as much as you'd like?

"Back then he worked on drumediting and played the basslines, but his role is way bigger than that. We've worked together a lot and now we're doing something for L'Âme Immortelle, where we vibe together perfectly and know exactly how to handle such a project.  When he takes on production for Carach Angren however, I notice how much better he controls it. He has so much knowledge about drum sounds, mixing,... and he's really specialised in it. It is nice to add that knowledge, it brings a lot of added value. These days a lot of bands record at home and that all makes it a lot cheaper, but a good producer brings a lot of experience and equipment, it ends up with a whole different result. Besides, we left the mix and mastering to Robert Carranza."

That last one is a pretty big name, who among others worked with Marilyn Manson. I can imagine that has a big impact on your budget, but was it worth it?

"I think so. When I listened to 'Killing Strangers' by Marilyn Manson on headphones and heard the bassline, it went so deep that it turned me upside down. Apparently Robert Carranza mixed that album.  Furthermore he does a lot of different things such as make latin music and win grammy's, but in the extreme metal scene he is totally unknown.  However, he wanted to help himself to our record and yes, the price was steep, but I managed to convince both the band and the label… even though that wasn't without some doubts, since all eyes were on me for a bit. I had a good feeling about it and shared it, with the result being having a record now that doesn't sound like the others.  He had a fresh look on our work and thus we could avoid the recognisability of the average metal producer.  There are too many records that when you hear them you know exactly who had their hands on them and in which studio they were recorded.  Contrary to what you might think, there was constant contact with him (Robert) and a lot of talking about how we wanted it to sound. In particular the clarity of the sound is massive and gives it a bit more of a cinematic effect. There was no compression applied where everything sounds constantly loud and where as a listener you'd get easily tired, but the dynamics were preserved."

DIDN'T FEEL LIKE IT ANYMORE.

To refer back to Patrick Damiani: if he does so much and even plays the basslines, do you see him as sort of a 4th band member or is that just a bit too much credit?

"That's not how we see him. He's an amazing producer and musician, who gives us his opinion and helps us out. On the other hand he is not part of the creative process and he isn't on stage with us… but it is a relationship that's been going on for 12 years and something we get a lot out of."

Now I'm saying '4th band member', but after the recordings of your new record ended, your brother and drummer Namtar left the band. Can I ask what happened and if you saw this coming, or whether it was a bolt from the blue?

“In November he recorded his drum tracks and back then everything went fine, but then there came an offer to play at '70000TONS OF METAL'. Since we always looked at the financial side of the band together, we talked about the offer and he was immediately against it.  I thought that was strange and to me it seemed better to sit around the table with three to talk about it. Then it became apparent that he'd been wrestling with it for sometime and in brief didn't feel like it anymore.  We offered him to take a break of a few months instead of just throwing away what we've worked for the last 20 years, but that wasn't a solution.  It wasn't an easy decision, but afterwards we saw it had been an issue for a long time and at that point you rather put a stop to it.  That hit us hard, but you can never force somebody to stay in a band.  To keep our motivation high we played '70000TONS OF METAL' after all with Michiel van der Plicht of God Dethroned as replacement. That pleased us all and he's willing to help us out in the future."

Michiel van der Plicht in indeed an amazing drummer. Are there any plans to keep him in the band permanently or is this an emergency solution and is there an offer still standing?

"I discussed that extensively with Seregor, but together the two of us stay the core of the band. We already have an extra guitarist live and in the studio we will definitely have those people join again, but all decisions will be made by us two in the end.  We want to avoid that other people leave a mark on the band, causing us to lose our individuality (personality). It's about so much more than just making music: the stage decor, our own stage outfits,... for us it is very clear and it's going well, so we only need help to fill in with the music in the studio and during lives."

MILKED OUT?

Let's get to the core of business. At the end of this month is the release of your 6th album, 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus'. Now lends the Frankenstein story itself perfectly for a horror metal band, but I wondered if the story isn't too milked out by other bands… unless you do it with a completely new vision. After all, that's what you did with 'This Is No Fairytale', where Hans and Gretel were transported to the now and the horror became bigger than ever. 

"When we started, I had the same feelings about the Frankenstein story, but there's a twist to it. Everything started for me as a dream, where I flew through an old house. There, I heard dissonant piano tunes and I got sucked into a room where a portrait of an old man hung on the wall. Later I made a drawing of that portrait and it got stuck in my head. When I began doing research for the album months later and even read Mary Shelley's amazing book 'Frankenstein', I found out that there is a theory that when she wrote her book she was influenced by Johann Konrad Dippel, an 18th century alchemist.  Then when I looked him up, he turned out to look like what I had seen in my dream, which personally motivated me to dig deeper. Dippel is an unknown figure for the masses and that's why it seemed fascinating to us to do something with it.  There is fiction and truth mixed in our story. By the way, Dippel lived in Frankenstein Castle near Darmstadt, where he was looking for the elixir to eternal life. He was also a theologist, but he clashed with the church and was therefore cast away. Because he also did experiments on cadavers and sought life extending resources, he would've inspired Mary Shelley for her story. What we did was make a concept around the source of her story instead of following the clichés.  That monster with screws in his head, we've seen it already before…"

Yet it doesn't seem like a concept album, because I notice that you address very diverse subjects.

"It is definitely a concept, since all stories are connected to one another, even if it's not noticeable. 'Operation Compass' is about the North-African desert war between the Brits and Italians. In official documents the Brits were ordered that if there were to be a fallback, to make all sources unusable for the enemy with 'Dippel's oil' (a nasty substance that made water undrinkable but did not poison it, so it was in battle with the Geneva protocols).  In our story it leads to a demonic outburst that went towards the soldiers. So you see, Dippel comes back throughout different moments in history. 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' is about a real figure that is still alive. He committed necrophilia, killed people and drank their blood, … but is now at large. In our story he lost his ways after reading Dippel's books, which once again links it with the core story. 'Here In German Woodland.', the opening song, is about a boy that gets lost and dies in the forest surrounding Darmstadt, but later comes back and eats his parents. In the closing song 'Like A Conscious Parasite I Roam' it all comes full circle: Dippels life elixir only works for his soul, and his body rots away, so he searches for a guest body and his spirit creeps into that little boy." 

In a few songs, some German lyrics show up. Is that besides the concept also because of the grim sound of the language or is it simply because you live so close to Germany and it has a certain impact? 

"The subject lends itself to it of course and Seregor speaks German very well, which made things easier. And yes, the sound does play a certain role. 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' sounds way better than the English translation, it immediately sets the right tone."

Some of these stories are the result of reality, but are often at least as gruesome as many fantasy stories: such is the bonus song 'Frederick's Experiments' about the sick science experiments of emperor Frederick II, a man who apparently was not inferior to the Nazi doctors?

"Yes, you can say that he set a good example! Seregor came with the idea and somewhere the story did fit within the total picture, even though we couldn't fit it into the big story. Our label Season Of Mist however asked for a bonus track and that's how we managed to include the song after all."

CROSS-POLLINATION.

What I noticed with the first sneak preview, but what has become clear now, is that Carach Angren this time worked very innovative musically.  Watch out, it is immediately clear that it is from Carach Angren, since you already have your own sound, but at the same time there are noticable things we haven't heard from you before. The title track has a considerable industrial touch and we also hear something from Laibach in it, just like 'Monster'. Is that something you've only recently been getting into or have you maybe secretly been an industrial fan for years?

"It is more recent, even though I've always been appreciative of it. By also collaborating with Till Lindemann for his project Lindemann, I also came into contact with it more and started taking it up unconsciously. Afterwards I got to experiment with it for my solo project and that's how I came up with the song 'Monster'. Seregor tested some things out for singing for that song and it just made sense.  It was very cool to experiment like that, which you should when you're making a record based on Frankenstein…"

It became a musical experiment instead of scientific experiment, but you do create a parallel, yes.

"Inside Carach Angren we like to put a lot of variety in the songs and if you can also give that a different look, then that is something you should try. We ourselves are absolutely crazy about it! Some fans will have to swallow when they hear those songs, but for them there are plenty of old school songs on it."

To come back to Lindemann: he and Peter Tägtgren got you involved since you are so good with classical orchestras and arrangements, but in the end it seems to have become two-way traffic, doesn't it? Have you learned a lot from it and developed other visions? 

"We worked together in a very awesome way and you do learn a lot from that. You grow as a componist, as musician and as producer. It made me compose more compactly and I sometimes pursue slightly less complex songs, like the two more industrial based songs. Always great to be able to take a different approach."

Both those songs have an easier buildup, but in the other songs you go back to the complexity that you left out purposefully 'Dance And Laugh Amongst The Rotten'. Is it a way to generate more contrast?

"In some ways yes, but it depends on how it works out in a song. We tried to make the title track a bit longer, but then the effect fell away and it didn't feel right anymore. But strangely enough I write a complex song like 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' easier than a less complex piece like 'Monster'.  With less arrangements it quickly becomes hard to keep it exciting(engaging), but seeing as you want to keep the concept to level, you need to have enough variation. The industrial songs sound a bit less complex, but there is a lot happening in the background and they are full of tiny details that make the difference."

MIXING COLOURS.

With the new approach you have opened some doors to maybe do more experimenting in the future. Is that actually your goal or is there nothing reasoned behind it and do such new influences pop up sooner when they seem to be able to improve the song?

"It all almost comes down to what the concept of the album requires. Back when we wrote 'Death Came Through A Phantom Ship' we added swirling waves and custom/adapted sounds to it. With the new record the 'marching' of the pulsing industrial beat seemed to work the best with our Frankenstein theme. You have to see it like a painter who is mixing colours to make a new colour to fit his vision. We don't do any different and we would love to experiment more in the future. If we see what we've already tried with singing now … in the long run we were completely out of control trying to do crazy things."

The singing is indeed a very remarkable part of 'Franckensteina Strataemontanus'. We always thought Seregor had a good black metal voice, but we were very impressed by the way he twisted his voice this time around and helped set the mood.

"We are very happy about that ourselves. He delivered an excellent job and we really pushed everything to get to that point. We actually took several weeks to make sure my home studio was in perfect condition and sometimes Seregor had to redo a certain part up to 10 times to get the result we wanted, but he did it without struggling. A lot of singers that ask so much from their vocal chords are dead on their feet after an hour, but then there is Seregor who gets through the day without complaining, even while screaming his lungs out.  While recording 'Operation Compass' we did however find out it is better to record a deep grunt in the early morning, since your voice is still a bit slow and heavier from sleep.”

MUSIC AS A BOOST.

The whole corona crisis made it so that as a band it is way more difficult to promote an album now, since all concerts got cancelled. Did that have a big impact on Carach Angren or can you make it?

"I myself am very concerned with the people who are really affected by the disease and that is why I can partially ignore the inconveniences for ourselves. Nevertheless, it has a serious effect on the music industry, although that is secondary to me. We are dealing with a pandemic, people are dying and we all have to work to keep everything under control. In addition, it is strange to release an album in a full crisis, but we decided to go for it anyway. It's a cool record and we already started the promotion, so we just keep going. For now, tours are not planned, but that does not mean that we will now stream all kinds of performances to attract attention. We are not that type of band… what is a shame is that our plans for a very cool video clip are now also being abandoned. We had to go to Germany and there are also the social distancing rules, which make such a recording impossible.  But should we really want that and turn it into drama? Of course it sucks to have to promote the release like this, but the whole world is just not what it was a few months ago."

Do you have any alternative ideas to bridge that gap? I know that you guys always have enough visual ideas and there already is a lyric video for 'Monster', but I can imagine that there is more to come.

"We are working on that yes, because last month we made one for 'Der Vampir von Nürnberg' and next month we might take another song in hand. We will keep doing those sorts of things together with some 'making of-' videos that we recorded in the studio, that way we can give the album some extra promotion.  Nothing for us to worry about so… by the way, there is something about releasing a record in times like these. The people have been stuck at home for months and have nothing to do, so if we can give them a new piece of music to listen to to get through the day, then that is awesome too. It would be disappointing for the fans if we just put our new work on the shelf because of this pandemic. Every band should do what they think is best, but we had already started our press campaign anyway and we would also be a lot less driven if we only had to arrive 'with old stuff' within six months or later."

Carach Angren already has a few beautiful video clips which are build up with a real story and don't only have something musical to offer. In addition, there are also the lyric videos, where certainly those for the complete album 'This Is No Fairytale' with comic images by Costin Chioreanu stand out from the crowd. Have you never thought of bundling everything on a DVD?

"We've honestly never thought about that, but that's actually a really great idea! I think it would be nice to bundle everything together and that way we immediately remove some (away) from youtube. That can always be a good idea for the future."

LEARNING SCHOOL.

As songwriter of Carach Angren you may have previously absorbed a lot of influences that shaped you into the musician and songwriter you are today. Can you list the five most essential records or artists that shaped you personally and what exactly were their interests?

"That is a good question that doesn't let itself be answered very easily. In the classical field and orchestras I think Tchaikovsky and Stravinski are very important. They both had a lot of influence on me as a componist. Another important inspiration to me in that respect is John Williams (modern componist famous for his film scores for Star Wars, Jaws, Jurassic Park..) They helped shape me even more when it comes to layered composing, although I don't come close to what they do. As a child I followed keyboard lessons for 8 years, I did a year of conservatory and studied a year of music and media, as well as cinematic orchestration. Those last two were online, but on a serious level and you really had to write pieces for an orchestra. I learned a lot there, but ever since then I kept learning by actually doing it myself, looking through books and analyzing musical pieces.  But if I hadn't gotten the theoretical basis I had as a child, I would've never been able to do this today. On production level I have to mention Nine Inch Nails and, something you'd might find strange, Michael Jackson! If you see how well their albums are produced, and how many layers are incorporated, it's amazingly well done! You can say about Michael Jackson's music what you want, but the way the songs are built up and how much dynamics are in there thanks to the arrangements by Quincy Jones, it is absolutely astounding.  There is no lack of bells and whistles and sometimes, for example, the snare drum comes in in four layers, something you don't hear so loudly even in extreme metal. I mainly listen to those albums as an audiophile to analyze them and see what I can get out of it as a producer. Last week I checked the solo record of Roger Waters, in which I heard effects that seemed to be situated outside the loudspeaker field. Then I want to know how that is done and whether I can integrate it with Carach Angren. That kind of thing is the reverse of the compression they use too often today and you wonder why we don't all go in that direction anymore."

---

Translated by Jeordie/Trentsfishnets.

(For the record, if this interview already exists in English, I will just see this as translating practice C:)

[spideymarvelws]

one true love.

Dark!Peter Parker x Dark!GN!Reader

Main Masterlist

Summary : Peter will go threw everything to keep you safe, protected and most importantly always his. He saw you as the person he observed and watched for the past few months, the sweet, kind girl that stopped to pet stray dogs or smiled at everyone who needed it. But somethings he never took notice of, some things that would’ve made him love you even more.

Warnings : THIS IS A DARK FIC! I am not responsible for your media consumption but if any of these topics or just dark fics on a whole trigger you please do not read! cursing, murders, blood, violence, mention of sexual assault, death, stalking, graphic description of a dead body, homicide, fluffy if you squint, use of guns and knifes.

A/n : If any description throughout the one shot does not pertain to a gender neutral reader please let me know :-) also if i missed anything in the warnings.

Word Count : 1.8k

...

The definition of love is something that never stays constant as its experienced from person to person. Even to that very being, the meaning changes every year, month, day even hour, from what that individual may feel in that moment. In some cases, it may be the most beautiful thing that’s ever happened to someone, changing there life in ways they could never even imagine. 

In other cases, it could break a person whole, bit by bit, tearing down at who they once were. Emotions like guilt and regret, jealously and remorse running through there veins, thinking that love is only made to destroy the ones foolish enough to believe it exists.

Then you have the rare case of love at first sight.

Now, some may argue that this concept that only seems to show up in movies and TV shows is complete bullshit, that it doesn’t exist.

“You can’t look at someone and automatically know they’re the one for you,” Ned said to him one day, pulling his head out of his chemistry book,“What if they’re an awful person? What if they do something constantly that you don’t like? Seriously, looking at someone and knowing there the one is just basing It of there’s looks or something,”

Peter didn’t respond, afraid that he might lash out at the only friend he’s managed to keep throughout the years. He thought about the last statement a lot, wondering if all he ever really felt was the physical attraction.

But no, that pull you feel when you look at someone for the fist time, watching there movements with whatever tasks they’re doing at the moment, even if it’s nothing at all. Falling entranced with there every gesture, taking in every curve and colour, memorising every feature.

It wasn’t just looking at their appearance, it was taking note of how they moved, how they acted, how they laughed, god there laugh is like music to your ears. It was watching and observing, that’s what Ned missed in his little speech.

Then of course you have the people who don’t believe in love, which was something he could understand.

Before he saw you.

For Peter, love was not a strong enough word to describe what he felt for his one true love. The way you made his heart stop with one smile, his face red with one touch, his hands sweat with one word. In your eyes, he found his entire world.

And he destined for you to be his.

The countess nights he spent dreaming of you, laying besides him. He longed to touch you, to feel your skin against his, to mark you with his love. He shocked himself with the self control he had to maintain around you especially when it came to the people you hung out with.

The amount of times he wanted to run out of hiding and crack the skull of some idiot who decided to talk to you or dare even look at you in any suggestive matter. The thought make him gag every time, but he’d like to think that you already knew that he was looking over you, that you belonged to him. That’s why you never took any of them on, that’s why you turned them down.

He couldn’t blame them for trying, but they had no chance since they would be gone the next day.

Which is why he hoped you could forgive him for what he did, for what he had to do.

The body laid in the back seat, wrapped tightly in a bag. There was no blood spilled, sadly, only the indents of his hands on the base of his neck. 

It was fun, watching the life drain from his eyes as he listed off every bad thing he’s ever done, mainly to you, but he threw in a few more ex’s just to spice things up a bit more. Maybe he shouldn’t have killed him, maybe he should’ve just let him walk free with the threats he shoved down his throat.

But then he had to call you a bitch, from that point he knew his life would just be a waste of oxygen.

Peter let out a chuckle at the memory, at the fake confidence he showed, struggling in his hold. It truly was a sight to behold, one that made his realise why he enjoyed being Spiderman so much. 

Seeing people suffer for there terrible mistakes and knowing that he had the power to punish them.

The drive was long and quiet, one of his hands was on top the steering wheel, tapping to an imaginary beat while the other settled on the arm rest. The streets were rather empty at this hour to Peter’s surprise, making him smirk that he would get away with the murder.

Maybe he could’ve stolen a better car.

But he was doing everyone a favour and he was keeping you safe.

He took a right into a dense forest, his car moving with with the bumps on the course road. When he felt like he was deep enough down the path, he hit the breaks, cringing at the squeaking noise it made.

Regardless, the exited the vehicle, opening the trunk to grab a shovel. He knew that there were a number of more efficient ways to get rid of the body, one that could’ve used his position in the avengers to his advantage, but his old techniques started to grow repetitive. 

It didn’t take him as long as he thought though, the hole he dug was around eight feet deep and hopefully the right size to fit the body. Dropping the shovel to the floor, he walked back to the car not to worried about his surroundings knowing that no one ever visited this part of the forest. 

He grabbed the body from the back seat, throwing it over his shoulder carrying it to the hole and tossing it inside without care. He smiled at the bag as he filled the hole a quarter of the way.

“Time to find an animal now shall we?” He whispered to himself, pulling out the hunters knife from the back of his pants along with a flash light, “Just incase,”

As he walked threw the trees and bushes, keeping look out for any movements he heard a gun shot cut threw the air. He gripped his knife, walking carefully towards the noise. 

Oh how he was sorry for the poor lad that decided to be here this night, but he had too do what had to be done.

Suddenly he was sent back by a force jumping on his back. He fell to the floor with a thud, his body forcefully turned over with a gun pointed directly between his eyes.

“Y/n?” He froze, his breath becoming heavier at how close your face was to his. Now he understood why his spider senses didn’t alert him, because you weren’t a threat to him, you could never be.

“Peter,” you whispered, lowering your gun, scrambling off of his body much to his dismay, “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” He asked back, still shocked at you proximity to him, talking with him, breathing the same air as him.

“You answer first,” you said quickly.

“No you,” Peter said back, crossing his arms.

“I-,” you started, but looked down, trying to hide your bashfulness, but it only drew attention to the blood dripping from your hair.

“Baby,” Peter whispered, walking up to you to grab your face, any sense of self control left his body after seeing the state you were in, “What happened,”

Peter thought it was some attack on you and judging by the amount of blood covering your skin, you had to defend yourself. He expected you to look up with the innocent eyes he’s studied for so long, finally getting a chance to get a closer look.

But instead, you raised your head with a sinister smile gracing your feature, you stepped out of his embrace, taking his hand in yours.

“Let me show you,” you whispered, in an almost sultry voice sending shivers down his spine.

You pulled him to a tree, taking the flashlight held in his fingers and pointed the light to the base of the trunk. Peter stared confused at the sight, walking forward slightly to inspect the slumped body. It was tied down tightly with rope around the waist and mouth, cutting threw the skin deeply showing signs of struggle. There was multiple stab wounds in the stomach, words carved in there legs that he couldn’t make out with the dirt and blood covering them. He did however notice his name on her forehead and the bullet wound in the middle. 

The streaks of blond in the hair falling in front of the face told him that this body belonged to Gwen Stacy.

“When she started talking to you I could see how uncomfortable she made you,” you started, looking to the floor while playing with the dirt with the sole of your shoe, “I- I didn’t like how close she got to you, and- and since she bothered you too I- I thought we were doing us both a favour,”

Peter stood back up, looking back at you. He wondered how somebody so insane could hide it so well. Even with the evidence painted over you, he still saw you as incapable of ever doing anything like this.

The thought made him laugh loudly, walking up to you and grabbing your face.

“I fucking love you,” he laughed more, making you smile brightly as he put his forehead against yours, “You’re perfect I swear,”

You laughed along with him, putting away your gun in your pack pocket, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’ve- I’ve so long for this,” you giggled, pressing your nose into his neck, basking in his sick scent, “But, what are you doing here?”

Peter giggled as well, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “Same reason at you my love,”

Your eyes widened, you placed your hand on his cheek, bringing his lips back into yours. It was longer and sloppier than the first, both of you getting use to the movements but also desperate for the feeling.

Peter backed you up against another tree, pressing his body against yours, his deluded mind not reregistering how fucked up the situation was, but he loved every second. His lips moved down to your neck, sucking and bitting at the skin, drawing out delicious moans from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you sputtered, biting your lip and tangling your fingers in his hair, both of you not paying mind to the blood, sweat and dirt, “I’ve- I’ve wanted this for so long Peter,”

“Me too baby,” he said, tightening his hold on your waist, “Me too, now how about we hide these bodies together hmm?” He tickled your sides lightly, grinning at the giggle you let out, “Then I’m gonna take you home and make up for lost time,”

...

--->Interested in more? check out my other Dark!Peter fic<---

Hearts, reblogs and comments always appreciated 🥰

Taglist: @jadegill​ @joyleenl​ @ietss