#“you go on digging your grave dear” is not literally about death and you and i both know it

[phierecycled]

i die a little every time a person says whizzer/marvin's death is 'foreshadowed' in in trousers or march of the falsettos

[icarus-suraki]

1, 7, and 9 for the movie ask!

It occurs to me that I could just answer Goncharov (1972) for all of these…

Movie Questions Ask Bait!

->what is your favorite film of all time? Very possibly Mad Max: Fury Road. That movie rewired my brain. That movie scraped the rust off my soul. That movie sneaked up behind me and stole my spine. And it was great.

I literally went to see it in the theater seven (7) times. Seven. If you dig back in my blog here to June 2015, you'll see that this place was full of Fury Road. Stills, gifs, music, meta, fic, shitposts, all of it. All of it.

Sidebar: I think my absolute love of Fury Road is what's keeping me from wanting to see the new Furiosa prequel: Fury Road didn't explain everything to death so we, the fandom, had a great time imagining explanations or making things up. We dissected that movie and we also left it alone. I don't want to know too much. I like that world being left a partial mystery. We, like Max, get thrown into it and we're both figuring out how it works as the story progresses. I love that.

I can't exactly explain why I love it so much. The colors, the action, the fight scenes, the music (holy shit the music), the characters, the weirdness, the story itself, the callbacks and parallels, the newness and the oldness of it (it really is a train robbery movie at its core), the sense (ultimately) of hope, the presences of women (old women even!) in action roles… Something about it, maybe everything about it, were just perfect for me at that time and in that place.

Yeah. Favorite movie ever.

->name a movie you’re emotionally attached to? There's so many ways I could take this. Positive attachment? Negative attachment? Very Strange Time in My Life attachment?

Like, I know I can never watch L'Illusionniste, Les Triplettes de Belleville, or Grave of the Fireflies again because I cried just too fucking hard at each of them, which I think is an emotional attachment.

Or I could say the Lord of the Rings movies (all of them). They came out when I was in college and a handful of us were counting down the days to the premiere, watching this miniscule clip of video taken by a fan from a train that showed a glimpse of the Minas Tirith set endlessly, gobbling up any news or leak or rumor about production on Livejournal, engaging in the fandom of that era (which was a whole thing in and of itself), even going to midnight local premiers. So while I'm not a huge fan of the movies, they certainly were a constant presence in my undergrad days.

Or it could be the other movies that rewired my brain: Mad Max: Fury Road (see above), Princess Mononoke (baby's first Studio Ghibli film in 1999 at the local art house theater), Star Wars (only episodes 4, 5, and 6 though; I kind of deny that any others exist), Kiki's Delivery Service (which I had on VHS in college and would watch when I was stressed and depressed because I love the city), Voices of a Distant Star (the concept really got me)…

Or it could be the kids' movies from my own childhood, you know? Robin Hood (1973) is very near and dear to my heart. And Panda and the Magic Serpent is what started me down the weaboo road way back when I was 6 years old.

There's so many possible answers here. But that's a few movies I have emotional attachments to. How's that?

->guilty pleasure movie? Do I have to? Okay, okay, okay: I like a good cheesy, gory giallo movie, red tempra paint blood and all. Spaghetti westerns are amazing with their half-understandings or misunderstandings of USAmerican history to the point that it becomes something different, something bigger and more epic (I love The Good, The Bad and the Ugly so much). Martial arts movies full of dramatic scenes and wire-fu are so much fun (and I get to practice my Mandarin or my Japanese). Gothic drama, especially from the 1990s, is great like the original IwtV, Crimson Peak, The Crow…

But I paid actual, real, hard-earned money for a (digital) copy of Bloodsport and it's so bad. It's so bad! But I love it--maybe as much for meta reasons as anything.

Like, the whole thing is based on this Canadian-American guy Frank Dux's memoirs about being trained in ninjutsu by a mysterious Senzo "Tiger" Tanaka (who probably didn't exist at all and has the same name as a character in You Only Live Twice) and then going on to compete in this international full-contact underground martial arts competition in Hong King (the "Kumite"). Oh and he was also in the military at the time, doing covert missions, so he had to go AWOL to fight in this competition of course. Which he does without being caught. And he keeps outsmarting the CID officers (one of whom is played by a young Forest Whitaker) when they chase him to Hong Kong, meanwhile picking up an April O'Neill-style beautiful American journalist ("reporter" because it's the 1980s).

The whole thing is so clearly ridiculous bullshit but it's marketed as being based on a true story because Frank Dux insisted his bullshit was true. And it was produced by Cannon Films, which is another can of worms entirely (I highly recommend the documentary Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films for more backstory on the company; it is bonkers). And did I mention that Frank Dux is played by Jean-Claude van Damme? And yes he does do the most epic of splits.

And the whole thing is simultaneously so deep in meta layers (self-proclaimed martial arts masters, which ties into Count Dante and the dojo wars, Frank Dux's amazing bullshit and stolen valor, Cannon Films) and yet so incredibly shallow at the same time.

There's minimal plot, zero depth to the characters, massively long flashback sequences, even longer training montages, a totally ridiculous amalgamation of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean cultures into just "Asian Culture," the dubbing in some scenes is practically criminal, there's minimal exploration of the location (Hong fucking Kong!!!) outside of a chase and a throwaway scene about bad restaurant food, and even the fight scenes during the tournament aren't really all that great.

But the Kowloon Walled City gets some screentime (except that it's just a set sometimes). And there are tons of locally-hired extras and bit players, along with a slew of international actors and/or actual martial artists, even if a lot of them have been cast as nationalities other than their own???--like Bernard Mariano, who is Filipino by descent but was born in Hong Kong, had no martial arts experience but got scouted while he was working out, was cast as a "Middle Eastern" fighter named Hossein, but used his pay from the movie for university classes to go on to be an English teacher in Hong Kong. Meanwhile, Jean-Claude van Damme is busy taking his shirt off and wearing super tight spandex underwear (he snaps them in one scene; you're welcome). Leah Ayres is a "reporter," which is really "journalist" and one of the few adventurous jobs acceptable for women in 1980s movies to have, who maybe lives in Hong Kong or maybe doesn't but she's super cute and deserves better than she got in the script; she's The Girl (Leah Ayres is now into pseudoscience). And Donald Gibb is playing this American bar brawler who somehow got invited to this elite fighting tournament and he looks like Kurt Russell in The Thing if he were still infected by the Thing and living out on the ice alone.

Like, I could just keep going. I love this shit. There is so little that's "good" in terms of filmmaking, scriptwriting, cinematography, anything in this movie and yet it entertains the fuck out of me.

Hence: guilty pleasure film.

[lingering-paperwork]

Prompt: Early humans used to hunt down wooly mammoths, beings over twice their size and yet they still killed them, how, you ask?  They would gravely injure the animal and stalk it for days, waiting for it to collapse from exhaustion, then they would finally kill it. What if iterators hunted the same way?

CW/TW: this little drabble contains graphic depictions of violence and major character death, if you don't want to see either of these please don't read the drabble :P

Visual Snow shifted and turned in his cot, he couldn't possibly sleep in This house.  For voids sake everyone else here was literally infested with diseases!  Whenever they looked his way he could tell how badly they wanted to tear him apart and eat him whole.  It sickened him. 

He turned to paths, who was laying on a coy next to him.  He looked absurdly peaceful, his arms wrapped tightly around his pillow, a soft whirr from in his chassis the only sound in the room, besides the rain of course.  Snow decided he couldn't sleep, and since the rain let up enough to venture out into the Outer Expanse, he left The Garden and walked out into the warm brisk air.  The rain came down in small droplets, dripping on his face soothingly.  He felt calm in the peaceful night, a very different feeling from the one in that stuffy chapel with its rot infested walls and obvious signs of decay.  He closed his eyes and let his shoulders relax, well that was until He heard the sound of sliding tendrils slimy appendages made their way over to him.  a hand was placed on his shoulder, he instinctively flinched, turning around slowly.

"I...I didn't know you were awake.."  Snow stammered out, bringing his hands close to his chassis.

"The rotten need not sleep at the same time."  Icarus purred, his accent and the verbal distortion making it hard to make out any of his words.  "Only one must sleep...the rest can stay lucid.."   He paused to draw in a shaky garbled breath, "why are you out so late?  You mortals must rest...it is unhealthy to not sleep."  He tightened his grip around his shoulder, making Snow shiver.

"..couldn't sleep...I guess..."  He responded, his voice sounding meek and frail compared to Icarus'.  Icarus let out a mock hum of sympathy, bringing his other arm up to his other shoulder and pulling him close enough to feel the fluff of his kings cloak. 

"That's a shame, would you...like some assistance?"  Icarus squeezed his shoulders,  "I'm...not well versed in your kind...but I know some tricks....I'd like to think I do."  Icarus was breathing down his neck, the sickeningly sweet smell of his rot taking up nearly his whole thought process.  He was about to agree, as he felt himself slowly fumble to his flirtatious remarks and charismatic attitude.  He quickly snapped out of it and pushed his hands away.

"N-no, no thank you, I'm quite alright."  Snow shivered.  Icarus took his hands away, with a dull hum of acceptance. 

"Fine, suit yourself,"  Icarus let out another gargled choked sound,  "but would you be a dear and come inside?  I'd hate to lose a...friend like you."  He suddenly became more possessive and big, his tendrils raising him up to make him look imposing.  It almost worked.  With bated breath, Snow shook his head.

"No, no, I'm sorry, I just can't stay here, I have to get back to my can."  He whimpered out, a primal fear taking control of him, his systems nearly started blaring that his puppet was disconnected again.  He luckily shot that down quite quickly, but the fear was still there.  Icarus hummed disapprovingly.

"...oh no, no no my dear, you belong here ... I assure you, the rotten will take excellent care of you,"  Icarus brought his tendrils around Snow possessively.  "Come now, there is no need for...this fear."  Snow flinched as he grabbed his jaw softly, an attempt at a comforting gesture no doubt.

"No-no!  Go away--get away!!"  And just like that Snow was in panic mode, he kicked away Icarus' tendrils, clawed feet digging into the earth as he took off and ran, ran towards the direction of his can, ran away from his little brother.  Oh dear paths, please forgive me.  He murmured as tears fell from his eyes.  Then a stabbing pain drove itself into the back of his leg, to which he cried out into the night, his knee utterly destroyed by a singular well thrown spear.  He cried, his hands and snout digging into the earth.

"I suggest...you run now...if you can.."  a sadistic chuckle came from Icarus, "I give you....a minute head start."  He brought himself down to his actual puppet legs, standing straight and proud.  Snow looked back at him and tried to get up.  Icarus was counting down slowly, fiddling with his hands and brushing off his cloak.  He trembled on the ground, bushing himself up and crying out when the spear in his leg moved with his knee.  Icarus looked unimpressed.  He stood on shaky pained legs, his body full of adrenaline and fear he started to run, he ran very poorly, limping every step, but he still managed to run.  Icarus bore holes into the back of his skull.  Something In the back of his mind told him this was it, this is how he was going to die, and while yes he would come back, he'd likely never come back the same.  He knew Icarus would not make this a glamorous death, nor a quick one.  He would chase him down and kill him on the spot, tearing him in half and leaving him to bleed out and suffer.

He tripped slightly over a rock, but turned back and found that icarus was quite far away.  He kept going, he had to, he couldn't stop, he couldn't let him win.  He would not let him taste his flesh.  He hobbles away from him, never looking back for a second, though only a couple minutes later his vision starts to swim and his head begins to pound.  He slumped down, reduced to crawling now.  He was still determined, he persisted, no matter what, he was going to make it as far away as he could from him.  After what felt like hours and hours, he got stuck in a pile of muck, weighed down because of his size.  He felt the debris enter his wound and wanted to cry out to whatever God existed for him to just be killed.  Without a word, he slumped down into the mud, hoping that he would go unnoticed due to the color similarities between the muck and his carapace.  He got overwhelmingly tired, his chest heaved with exhaustion, and his eyes closed, finding a quiet peace in his final moments.  That was until he heard a very familiar slimey sound.  He opened his eyes in fear, his breathing picking up, how did he get here so fast?  He was sure he wouldn't be noticeable, he tried to relax his breathing, and close his eyes as go unseen. 

"Found you."  Icarus spoke, his tendrils dragging him out of the mud, rather cruelly.  He cried out.

"No!!  No please!!  No-nonono!!!!"  He clawed at his tendrils, only to be pressed into the hard ground face up.  He squirmed as icarus covered his speaker, trying to call out to him but it was horribly muffled.  He then felt small clawed hands graze his chassis, and click a button on the side, popping his chest open with a hiss.  He squirmed stronger now, only to be met with a crushing weight on his neck, keeping him still.  Small clawed hands entered his chassis, grabbed the wires, and pulled.  He spazzmed on the floor, tears falling from his eyes as he watched the rot eat his wires and circuits, scooping him out like he was some kind of shell holding a precious meal.  His consciousness seemed to fade quite quickly after that, slipping into a familiar blackness. 

Icarus ate the last remaining pieces of the meal beneath him.  It did not deserve a name.  He might be rot incarnate but he still had morals, and the one thing he hated more than anything was a trader.  The rat beneath him was going to leave his other mousy friend with him, leave him behind in Icarus' claws, all because he was scared?  He would leave behind his whole group, just because of fear?  Truly pathetic.  He reached into the empty chassis, and pulled out the cell.  It was a very rare item for Icarus to hold, it pulsed and beat in his hands, it made him think he was holding a living beating heart, which in a sense, he was.  He gave the rats face one good final kick with his puppet leg, and wondered back to his Garden.  Cell in hand.  In the morning, Paths asked him where the rat had gone.  precious Paths, had no idea of course that Icarus sent him back to whatever sewer he came from, slaughtered him in cold blood and ate him alive.  But he simply responded with,

"I'm afraid he ran off in the middle of the night, I'm sorry, dear Paths."  Of course, Paths was devastated that another member of his local group had left him.  But the rest were here, they would make sure he was ok.  Icarus stored the cell on a mantle in his room, held in an old velvet box he'd gotten when he first came here.  He stared at it with a chest full of pride.

[mvttsvn]

Good Little, Liar

Literal sadist😳Toji Fushiguro x bratty fem!reader

warnings: 18+ smut, ABSOLUTE FILTH,  cussing, reader is a masochist, dacryphilia, manhandling, choking, pain kink, daddy kink, impact play, degrading pet names “whore, slut”, use of “princess”, Toji threatens to kill you like once👩🏻‍🦯, no prep, mentions of blood, stomach bulge, size kink, mind break, dumbification, no aftercare :/, angsty at the end.

authors note: 2k words, UNEDITED holy fuck this was supposed to be a short drabble but I got carried away. this is completely self indulgent, it so nasty literally how did I even think of this??? I cannot get this shitty ass dad out of my head... literally just ib this one pic🤒

You convinced him alright. Convinced him so much that he whole heartedly believed he picked up and took home a totally different person tonight. You and Toji and been together a couple of times prior, nothing too serious, went out for a drink, maybe kissed, probably rode him in his backseat. Each and every time you put on your good girl façade, always so sweet, and submissive. Following his each every command. Taking exactly what he gives and thanking him for it every time.

He thought you were sent from the gods, how could he have found someone like you, who fit just perfect under his thumb, so willing to do anything just for his attention. Yet here you were, same pretty little girl, same pretty little face, telling him “no” ???.

You were straddling his lap, on his rough leather couch, the tv lowly played a old movie which by now has left both of your minds. The dim light from the kitchen buzzing due to the bulbs starting to burn out, which completely unfazed Toji, but left you slightly annoyed.

“No?” He scoffed.

You adjusted your hands to fit onto his built shoulders had his began gripping you hips tighter and tighter.

“Nope, I don’t want my jaw to hurt in the morning” you gave him a coy smile, while tilting your head down to stare at him through your lashes.

His right hand came up and  roughly gripping your jaw. “Does it look like I fucking care?” He practically growled in your face. In all honesty he was more confused than pissed, of course he was going to immediately put you in your place, but you had him genuinely concerned, we’re you always like this? Did he do something wrong?? You tried to shake you head but due to his grip you could only move so far.

“Now, on. your. knees.” He released his grip only for his hand to move to the back of you neck waiting for you to comply. You slowly leaned in kissing the scar on his lip to kiss down to his jaw then leaning back up to whisper two little words that could make or break your night, probably both.

“Make me”

the millisecond your breathy whisper hit his ear it was over, you were done for. Say goodbye to you legs you’re probably never walking again.

The force in which he pulled you hair made you shriek. He stood up tossing you over his shoulder furiously stomping into the bedroom. He threw you onto his mattress, you couldn’t help but giggle, this is exactly what you wanted it only added to his rage. He threw off his shirt, then gripped your ankles pulling you to the edge of the bed. He was immediately on top of you, his knees digging into your calves holding down your legs, has one hand gripped both of your wrists and the other tightly around your throat. You were already breathing hard due to anticipation but now he practically had you life in his hands.

“What the fuck did you do with my good little girl hmm?” His voice darkened by lust.

“I don’t know who your talking about” you laughed again, his grip tightening around your throat.

Before you could make another comment his knee was pushed up between your thighs has the hand holding your wrist bunched your shirt up exposing your bra. He ripped the right strap off  making you choke out a gasp, then he slid the rest of garment out from under you to throw it across the room. Toji mouth immediately on your breast teasing you to no avail.

“M..m..more” you choked out, you were in no right to be making demands but you really wanted to see how angry you could make him. His only reply was catching you nipple on a canine and biting down hard. You almost screamed, you thought he probably wanted to see you bleed.

He continued his teasing, you wanted to keep this game up for longer but your vision was starting to get hazy from the lack of oxygen. You started pawing at his shoulders, while wrapping you legs around his waist, quietly pleading, “I’m.. I’m sorry... T...oji..I’m...” the hand on your throat let go to harshly slap your thigh making you yelp in pain once again.

“That’s not my name. C’mon what is it?”... you met his harsh gaze, maybe just a little longer... “Toj-“ he slapped you across the face. You didn’t make a single sound but the tears pricking your eyes said enough. Lucky for you, Toji’s into that.

He met your lips in a sloppy kiss shoving his tongue down your throat. You tapped his collar bone silently signaling you needed to breathe, once he moved away he removed his pants and helped you wiggled out of yours.

“Who knew you’re such a fucking brat” he slapped your thigh again watching you squirm. His hand hovered over your already drenched cunt, as he starred right into your eyes. The flush on your chest started moving to you face. Why were suddenly getting all worked up now??

“Are you gonna give in already?, gonna be my good little whore again?”, you wanted to answer no again because he looked so hot when he was angry. The words got caught in your throat and all you could do was nod.

He lightly slapped your clit “Hmm need to hear it little girl, tell me who owns you?”

“you do....daddy” you admitted, you tilted your down, you couldn’t meet his eyes.

His calloused palm came up and caressed your jaw leaning in closer. “Are you sorry? Tell daddy your sorry for being such a brat.” He mocked making a fake pout. “M’sorry daddy, j..just wanted to make you angry.”

“I know you did princess...” He reeled his hand back to full on slap your cunt, squirming up the bed you let out a pathetic whine.

He slapped three, four more times now, and the tears started running down your face. He moved to tuck his face in the nape of your neck, leaving deep red bruises as he moved down your torso.

The muscles in his back rippled as he held himself up but the palms of his hands. God he looked so..big... not sure if he would ever explicitly admit the he liked how he overpowered you in almost every single way...but you liked it too.

There was no way you could’ve played you act for any longer, he would’ve choked you out. And would’ve done it with ease since his hand was bigger than your actual face. You knew how dangerous this was, yet still tilled wanted to play fire, but alas here you were once again, bowing to his every command.

“D..d..ddaddy..p..please..”

“Aw there she is” he lifted his face from you chest giving you one of his sickening grins. “I thought he wanted to play the little bitchy brat huh? What happened?” His voice dripping with mockery.

“N..need..you”

“How princess, you know daddy can’t help if you don-“

“please, PLEASE! need daddy’s cock! ….” you were getting impatient now, was this the most he was going to? you expected at lea-.

The scream ripped from you chest was silenced by the strong hand around your throat in a death like grip. He shoved his whole cock inside your tight little cunt, there was no prep not even when you were on the couch, he didn’t he stuff his fingers in your little cunt to stretch you out. You knew he was big, since the time he shoved his entire cock down your throat but feeling it twitch inside you making you feel like your being absolutely split open on Toji’s cock.

He gave a deep throaty chuckle, you knew how much he was enjoying this. New tears pricked from your eyes, wetting your cheeks, he moved his free hand pinching your clit between his fore finger and thumb, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. The hand on your throat gripped your hair moving so his face was flushed with yours, spatting in your ear, “You don’t cum until I say, understand?” All you could do was whine in response.

“I give you rules for a reason break them and I’ll kill you where you lay.” A threat, empty of not, it had you clenching hard around his dick. You glanced down to where you were connect, to be met with a indescribable bulge in your lower stomach.

Dear god, bless your poor cervix, he hasn’t even started moving yet  and you could feel the intrusion all the same. He started rocking his hips slight against yours, at least he was giving you sometime to adjust, all while staring two lust filled hole into your head as you writhed and whimpered underneath him. He pulled his hips back to pull out but when he’s met with the slightest sign of blood mixed with the milky white arousal coating his dick, he could’ve came right there.

He gripped your hips sinking right back into you making you scream once again. “DA-DADDY..fuck..shit..” the tears running down you face only egged him on.

“So god damn tight, maybe I should never prep you again, if you’re gonna feel like this every time” he groaned. “Such dirty little words, I would’ve punished you if you didn’t already dig yourself a grave”.

The pained moans falling from your lips were music to ears. Profanities fell from his as he continued a rough pace, your tits bouncing with every thrust. He had fucked you completely and utterly dumb, no coherent thought where making their way to you consciousness. Only daddy, Toji, and cock.

You have gotten numb to the pain but right now you were putting all you effort into not focusing on the way his dick was bruising you cervix, trying so hard not to come just from the way his pelvic bone catches your clit. You didn’t realize he was speaking to you till he lightly slapped your cheek. “Aw look at you, you’ve gone all stupid. Too bad, if you played nice I would’ve let you cum by now.” The malice in his voice made you clench around his cock, squeezing more of your arousal on his thighs. “ at least you’re taking me so well.” His breath hitched as his thrust stared getting sloppy.

“Holy fuck, keep squeezing just like that-“ you saw his abs clench, “remember you don’t cum till I say” his eyes flicked right back into yours you nodded, more like messily rolled your head around. “Holy fuck princess...” he was practically already using your cunt like a toy. With a last few harsh thrust he filled you cunt to the brim with hot, thick cum.

The groans falling from his mouth sounded almost angelic. All you could let out was a low whine met with heavy breathing. The sweat dripping down his toned chest shone from the dim light of the lamp on the corner the side table. He pulled out watching his cum drip out of you down to your asshole and onto his dark sheets.

Your body laid motionless barely opening your eyes to see him move away from edge and walk to his discarded pants. Your brain couldn’t even process this as you licked you’re tongue to wet your now dry lips.

Then it dawned that he didn’t let you cum... that fucker. You couldn’t do a single thing about it.

Because here you were unsatisfied, speechless, practically crippled, staring blankly at the ceiling. As he sat and lit a cigarette on the opposite end of the bed.

Notes: I am so sorry. There’s just something about Toji Fushiguro that I just forget how to function correctly. Um I hope you enjoyed! And that I didn’t rot ur brain too much<3

ps: ppp..ppart 2??? fluff???😏

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 2/4

part two: laughter lines on tired eyes

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: this one's pretty angsty - mentions of death + loss

enjoy :)

- jazz xx

Poe had always been terrified of losing you. It came with the territory of his job, but a lot of it stemmed from the fact you were person who he was closest with.

Dear Poe,

He tried not to think about it, really. Why would he? There was no point in pondering upon depressing scenarios when you brought enough excitement to his real life. He'd always known to some extent that there was a chance you could be lost in battle but that was a thought he shoved to the back of his head. It was locked away in a chest in a dark corner - another thing he didn't need to think about.

It occurred to me today that I'm probably in love with you. At first, I thought I was always just really happy to see you, but then I realised this morning, a MONDAY morning when I normally despise everyone including you, that I actually really wanted to see you.

But some things in life were unavoidable, and being dragged into a meeting room with a solemn looking Leia Organa was one of them. For Poe, it was an uncomfortably similar scenario to one he'd faced 25 years earlier. The General was more tired now, though - tired of fighting, tired of the war, tired of having these fucking conversations.

I'm never going to tell you, but as you know, I am famously bad at containing my emotions and I had to put this....somewhere.

They always started the same.

"I'm sorry."

Poe frowned. "What's happened?"

I'm sure it'll pass. I've had loads of random crushes in the past but they all went away. Do you remember Larry, the guy from the hangar, who I fancied for like a week last summer? And that very brief crush I had on Han Solo? Huh, maybe I have a time.

"(Name)'s squadron was flying back from Coruscant when the fleet took a hit," Leia's voice was shaky. Worlds away from her normal authoritative tone. "Three jets disappeared from our radars, including theirs."

"But you've found them, right?" He pushed. "You have to have found them-"

"- we've sent out several search parties," she cut him off. "They haven't found any wreckage on nearby planets, but that's good news, because it means they might have not been knocked down. It might be that they diverted to another planet to lay low for a few days."

I think it's the way you smile at me. You might not notice it, but you have these little creases by your eyes, and your lips always upturn even when you try to resist laughing. I really like your hugs too.

Poe sat up in his seat, heart rate suddenly picking up to a speed that almost beat that of his X-Wing. Clammy hands, sweaty palms, little black dots beginning to form at the edges of his peripheral vision. Suddenly, he was eight years old again, gripping the sides of his chair, throat as dry as the desert on a hot summer's day; brown eyes filled with sorrow and tears, feeling like a punch to her goddamn throat. She hadn't shaken that vision out of her head, not ever - and now, here it was all over again - the same face, the same creased brown, the same eyes. They were more tired now, with laughter lines etched around the sides, brown irises a little darker and more sunken. But Poe's eyes had never lost that spark - it had dimmed a little bit, but it was still there. Whether it would be after all this was hard to say.

And just...well it's you really, isn't it? It's the way you go out your way to make me smile when I'm sad and the way you'll fight anyone who makes me mad.

"Let me lead a search party," he begged. "Please, I'll find them in now time-"

"- Poe, you're too close to the matter," Leia replied. "You can help, though."

"Anything," Poe said. "I'll do anything."

"We've been trying to locate the back-up plans that (name) prepared for the mission - they should include a list of potential safe spots," she explained. "If you can find that list, we'll begin searching them."

"Have you tried their quarters?"

"I didn't want to invade their privacy," Leia said. "But if you happen to have a key, then-"

It's everything. It's your resilience and your humour and the way you see the best in everyone. The way you're never afraid to fight for what you believe in or stand up for what's right.

She was cut off by the sound of Poe's chair legs screeching against the floor. He was up in a split second, flying out the room without another word. His fists were balled up as he stormed down the corridor, nails digging into the palms of his hands - the pain of them piercing his skin was merely a reminder that all this was real. It wasn't a nightmare. He wasn't going to wake up and find you asleep in your room, safe and sound.

If Leia was right, and you were just laying low, would you not have said something to him? Found your own way to pass the message on? It wasn't like you to just disappear without a trace. You were always the organised one; the one who carried band-aids for when he inevitably burnt himself on a soldering iron, and the one who stitched him up every time he came staggering back from a mission, covered in minor scratches that he had heroically labelled battle scars.

You're amazing and I'm so lucky you're my best friend. This war is fucking awful but having you by my side makes everything a little less fucking awful.

Your room was just as you'd left it; tidy, but lived in. The jacket you'd stolen from him two years ago was strewn across your desk chair; the desk itself was piled high with random papers and forms, and there was a photo beside them of you, him, Finn and Rey. Some of your clothes were tossed on the bed, and your spare pair of boots was dumped in the middle of the floor.

Poe quickly scanned the room, before rifling around the sheets on your desk - but, to no avail. They were just random notes, and what looked like a letter from your father. He tried to recall any thing that might point to where you kept your mission plans - there had been the time you'd leant him your X-Wing maintenance guide, which was in a box under your bed.

This is probably something I'll take to my grave. Maybe I'll tell you about it in like 20 years when we're married to different people and meet up for Life Day. And I'll be all like 'hey, Poe! This one time when we younger, I was in love with you' and we'll laugh about it.

Falling to his knees onto the floor, Poe flipped your duvet up and began to peer underneath. Dust bunnies, a maintenance kit, your old blaster, the book he leant you nine months ago, and a box full of papers. After pawing about for a minute, he pulled the shoe box out and tore it open.

Now, it should be said that you had never considered the possibility that Poe would ever look under your bed without you knowing. Why would he? Unless he was creeping about, of course - but he'd never do anything like that. It wasn't in his nature, and you'd put the fear of god into him more than enough times for him to be clever enough not to do that. This was different, though; it was literally a matter of life and death.

I guess that means I think we'll still be friends in 20 years. And 40 and 50 and 60 and until we're old and wrinkly and too senile to fly a jet. I love you now and I'm sure I'll still love you then.

Tipping the papers out onto your floor, Poe crossed his legs and began to search through them.

He didn't see it at first.

All the letters that said dear Poe, I love you.

When he did, his heart stopped. Like, that full on, gut clenching, air-stealing, pulse pausing stomach drop. It only further added to his theory that this whole fucking terrible day was just a dream - but maybe, just maybe, this bit was a little less terrible.

Hands shaking (now for a different reason), Poe grabbed the first letter from the pile. It was dated to just over a year ago.

Love, (name)

There was a lot to unpack; firstly, you'd been in love with him for a fucking year. And you'd brought up the secret crush on Han Solo that you swore to never talk about - and did you really think he'd ever be too senile to fly a jet? Poe would have been insulted if that first revelation hadn't reduced his entire thinking capacity down to one, tiny brain cell.

Clutching the letter in his hands, Poe fell back against the bed. All this information - your disappearance and the declarations - was much too complicated for him to process all at once. The worst part was that you'd said you were going to take it to your grave and now...well now, you actually might have.

But there was still a chance - a chance that you were still out there, trying to find your way back to him. To your best friend.

You had to come back.

tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

[meetthefatess]

Hi dear! I just finished listening to In the Green and I'm in love, it's so beautiful and the vocals are amazing. However I'm having a hard time understanding it. Would you be willing to do a summary of like each song so that I can figure out what's happening? Totally understand if that's too much work though, I'm happy just listening to it without fully understanding. Love you!

Hi! I wouldn’t mind at all 🥰

Some of these descriptions are going to be longer than others bc I know more about certain songs. Also disclaimer, I haven’t seen the show in person so this is based on reviews & interviews I’ve seen talking about the show & the music itself! If anyone has corrections, pls let me know!

(tw for mentions of rape, I’ll tag accordingly)

O Virga ac Diadema: this is actually a song written by Hildegard von Bingen, who was a brilliant scientist, composer, philosopher (among other things) in the Middle Ages & who this musical is based on! Most, if not all, of the Latin chanting sections are taken from Hildegard’s own work! I’ll probably mention this again when the next one comes up.

Death Ceremony: following the death of her sister (which we will get into later) Hildegard is given away by her mother to Jutta. Hildegard was the youngest of 10 siblings and very shaken by her sister’s death, so this was likely done to lessen the burden on the family. My understanding is that this song is Jutta officially taking over the care of Hildegard. She is excited at the idea of Hildegard being acquainted with death (through the lessons she plans to teach her) because it is what she herself has been pursuing in her search for “the light.” The slam at the end of the song represents the two being locked in the cell together.

If I Had a Knee: in this song we become acquainted with the “pieces” of Hildegard. Because of, as she says, a “life shattering experience” she has broken into the Mouth (Ashley Pérez Flanagan), Eye (Rachael Duddy), and Hand (Hannah Whitney). This is how she has processed her trauma. She believes her mother sent her away because she is broken like this and if she just becomes whole (or one “piece”) again she will be able to return home. We also get a little forshadowing to Confession when she sings “If I had a knee I could climb out the window.”

The Rule: Jutta promises she can help the Hildegards become whole again because she used to be broken & knows what they are going through. She also believes that helping the Hildegards will give her the freedom she has been searching for and show her “the light.” We get a little look into Jutta’s life as a noblewoman here too! Jutta also brushes away the Hildegard’s questions about how she broke (or HER life shattering experience) and insists that the only thing that matters is she was able to get herself under control (by locking herself in the cell) and become whole again.

I Am Hungry: I Am Hungry is centered around Mouth and the desires held by that piece of Hildegard. These solo (ish) piece songs I believe are how Jutta learns about & tries to “fix” Hildegard one piece at a time. Mouth battles with feeling ungrateful, despite this opportunity to become whole thanks to Jutta, being uncomfortable in her own skin, and feeling like a monster. I don’t know as much about this song but it is a Bop and Ashley Pérez Flanagan is SO good.

Eve: this is one of the lessons Jutta teaches (directed at Mouth) on how to make her trauma easier to bear. I believe this lesson is given after Hildegard has her first period? Jutta’s lessons are starting to reveal her own pain and flawed judgement with the line “if you kill your every care, your burden will be less to bear.” Once again, A Bop

Ritual: time is passing in the cell! The Hildegards are still working to become whole, with the help of Jutta (who sings “it takes time to be whole” in response to the Hildegards’ “I’m trying”). They are becoming frustrated because they are still broken and are not sure what they are supposed to be learning.

Little Life: perhaps realizing that the Hildegards are more inclined to believe in light & life than the death-oriented lessons Jutta tries to teach them, Jutta gives another lesson. Jutta further shows she has gone through trauma too in understanding the Hildegards are “hiding the feeling [they’ve] done something wrong.” We also learn the name of Hildegard’s sister (Agathe) and that she has died. Jutta insists that Hildegard can get past her pain by sacrificing parts of herself (“you have nothing to lose if everything’s gone”). This also begins the instruction to dig (in which the Hildegards dig their own grave to help them become whole).

Sun Song: Hand remembers her childhood fondly & running through the woods with her sister Agathe before her death. She is trying to reason with Jutta and show her that the outside world is beautiful and that they don’t have to lock themselves away (literally). Eventually, Jutta recounts her own youth. She was engaged but decided to run away from her family instead of submit to her would be husband. She and Hand sing about the freedom they experienced in the outside world.

In The Green: the talk of the outside world awakens Jutta’s own trauma (her voice overlapping with that of Shadow, the broken piece of her that holds said trauma). When she chose to run away, she was found out and raped by a man (he is familiar to Jutta, so we can assume this is her would be husband) in the garden she was running through. In the end Jutta appears both to be yelling “leave me alone” to the man in her memory and to Shadow, who she has buried away and pretends does not exist anymore. “In The Green” or “The In The Green memory” is how this memory is referred to later in the musical.

Burial: as reasoning with Jutta does not work, the Hildegards turn on her and say they will no longer help her find the light. Jutta yells back “okay, stay broken. Have it your way.” Then the Hildegards turn on each other (mostly on Hand, the one they sing “you don’t belong here” to). They blame their trauma on Eye for having seen “Agathe’s secret,” Mouth for not keeping the secret, and Hand for not helping Agathe. More foreshadowing to Confession with “Agathe’s bleeding, I am not helping.” They all individually begin to break down and, because they feel they can’t focus on Jutta’s tasks: watch, wait, and try, they fully focus on digging until...

Underground: the Hildegards’ digging unearths Shadow, a piece of Jutta that she hid away, insisting she had already become whole. Shadow holds the memory of the day Jutta was raped, and understands that the pieces of Hildegard hold similarly traumatizing memories from the day their sister died. Shadow does not want to be revealed because Jutta does not want that memory to be part of her. (Think back to The Rule when Jutta says “when I see the light, I will erase my history for good” and tell be that doesn’t make you SO SAD)

Confession: the Hildegards tell their story to Shadow. Agathe sneaks out at night to meet with a man. Hildegard is scared Agathe is going to run away with him so tells their mother. Their mother is angry (likely because their family was lower nobility & did not approve of the relationship?). Agathe gets pregnant and has no husband, so wants to get rid of the baby so she isn’t ostracized or reminded of what happened. She convinces Hildegard to come with her to find herbs by the river that will “take the swelling from her belly.” This ends up killing her while Hildegard watches in horror. This also shows us how Hildegard was broken “I shouldn’t have seen (eye), I shouldn’t have said (mouth), I shouldn’t have lead her across the river (hand).”

Sun Song Reprise: after finally talking about their trauma, the Hildegards reflect. They realize that they can’t ever be how they used to be, but they can still be alright and will carry Agathe’s memory within them. They realize they don’t have to become “whole” to fix themselves.

Light Undercover: Shadow is in awe at how they’ve overcome their memory and found “the light.” She wants them to stay with her and share their light. The Hildegards realize hiding their trauma was what truly broke them and try to get Shadow to share the in the green memory with them so they can carry the burden of it together. Shadow is adamantly against this, saying Jutta made her disappear and she is content with the light from the Hildegards. The Hildegards insist that Shadow can find her own light if she just speaks about the memory.

The First Verb: the Hildegards sing about the lessons they’ve learned and the flaws in their previous mindsets. They want to help Shadow overcome her history. Shadow sings “I saw myself inside of a dream, but with your help I can wake up, make myself scream.” Essentially to become part of Jutta again and help her.

O Viridissima Virga: another song of the real Hildegard’s! A lot of her works revolved around nature and the earth mother which is is really cool thematically with the show. In my opinion ig

Light Undercover/ In The Green reprise: The Hildegard’s continue to try and coax the light out of Shadow who finally recounts the memory (voluntarily or involuntarily I do not know).

The Ripening: Jutta, presumably faced with her history once again, is conflicted. She believes she has done everything right but she still isn’t free, the only thing she’s ever wanted. She has sacrificed her whole life to her work and yet, is still trapped in darkness. Existential. Crisis.

Forgiveness: (if I’m interpretting correctly) Jutta has died. The Hildegards feel they were too late but now reflect on the lessons they have learned once again. “You have to be broken to see light in the dark.” Presumably why Jutta could never see the light is because she insisted she was not broken anymore and buried her broken pieces away.

Integration: Hildegard takes over Jutta’s place at the monastery and teaches and helps more women heal. This song is a lot about the rest of her life! If you have a little bit of background knowledge about Saint Hildegard (I don’t have much) this probably makes a good deal more sense.

Exorcism: Hildegard is faced with a member of the family her community helped destroy. Another woman who was silenced (this time by Hildegard’s influence). Story isn’t over?

Helpful timeline & things: Hildegard was 14 when she was locked in the cell with Jutta. Jutta had already been in the cell for 6 years. They remained in it together for 30 years. The only opening was a small window through which they were delivered food.

Some parts of this are my own interpretation so it’s totally cool if you see some lyrics as meaning different things!

Also, if you have questions about any songs in particular, feel free to shoot me another ask! Hopefully this helps!



[hannya-writes]

Hihihi! I know it's kinda crazy and I just found your acc but I was LITERALLY thinking about a Marvel-SVU crossover and found yoooooou. I mean... The algorithm lead me to you. It's ✨ Destiny ✨ haha So I was wondering if you could write something Marvel-SVU kinda with Carisi x reader (i don't know if you watch agents of shield) where reader has to go UC for Shield and falls in love with him and he finds out she's Shield etc. I don't know if I'm making any sense rn I'm just really happy I found you. And now I sound creepy but it's already too late and I'm sending this.

Dear @lapaquerette : I do not watch Agents of shield, but I did my best! I swear I did! 😭 you totally made sense! But I feel like there's part of this story that are not so good, anyways~ let's get to the story!!

Title: Don't Tell anyone

Fandom: MCU and Law and order SVU

Pairing: Sonny Caruso x Reader

Other characters: no, I think no

Category: romance

Warnings: this doesn't have a happy ending bc I'm bad writing those! This is long I think.

Author's note: for a moment I thought of making this a serie, but my head couldn't stand it! I don't feel like I can picture Carisi in the right way so probably he's going to be very OOC. Also I'm not supper proud of this because I literally did what I wanted with the time line, Captain America: Winter Soldier happens in 2016 however Caruso es ADA in 2020 if I'm not wrong but in this case the events of winter soldier happen in 2020. Also there's like 2 years of difference btw WS and Civil War, and I tried my best! To make everything fit, but you know, you can kick my ass in comments.

• • •

The mission was supposed to last just a couple of days. Y/n had to pose as an assistant to the Junior ADA's why did they need assistance she didn't know, but when Nick fury assigned her there she just didn't dared to ask.

"Find out what's going on there" he had said as if it was a life or dead situation.

Pepto. That's what happened. High expectations was the other thing happening. The Junior ADA's where being pressed, running towards death case by case.

It was boring, the first two days Y/n had played "who's the jerk of the room?" She had found more than one, stress made that to people. Who cares about cordiality when they had to put people in jail? The answer was Dominic "Sonny" Carisi.

Sonny never yelled or snapped at people, he always asked nicely about papers, he said "Good Morning" and "thank you". He was a gentleman, a knight in a shiny armor. He made funny jokes even when he was struggling with a case.

Y/n had felt a weird desire to help him after just one encounter. The puppy eyes, she reasoned. After that day when he was in court she appeared there, sat and suddenly the people being cross-examined poured the truth without control or bursted in fit of rage confessing everything. She wasn't making something bad, she was helping, which she was supposed to do. No one was going to link her to those incidents. No one knew what she could do.

— copies, now — one of ADA's order her and she almost pushed the asshole and told him to do it himself, it was only a copy machine, he only had to push a button! However, Y/n was a trained spy, she had control over every muscle in her face to not make a disgusted expression at the tall and skinny man. 63 ways to kill him appeared in her head in a second.

— Sure thing — she said in a gently tone, entertaining her mind in the more horrible ways to deal with Tommy.

Tommy Parish, a bully in and out of court, linked to the Irish Mafia. He thought he was a big fish, prepotent but surprisingly brilliant. He was like a weasel. He wasn't that important. Shield wasn't interested by his night activities. They thought there was something else, something more important. Y/n didn't think so. The more interesting thing there was...

— Oh, Sorry didn't meant to...— Sonny said as he almost hit Y/n with the door.

— my fault, I was standing here like a creep — she took the guilt with a sheepish smile.

— A penny for your thoughts — he said as he walked outside and Y/n instinctively followed, as she usually followed after director Nick Fury,

— I think I'm being punished — she said while walking aimlessly, if Sonny had walked in the male restroom she would have probably followed him blindly.

— punish? For what? Did Tommy said something mean to you again? — the blond man sounded concerned and for Y/n it was refreshing, people around her tended to be more defensive around her than being worried about her well being.

— no! I think Tommy is warming up to me — Y/n said proudly — it's my umm... Dad, he send me to live here and I think is because he is mad at me —

There was a small silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

— why would he be mad? You are amazing! — Sonny sounded so positive and brilliant, he always seemed to have that aura around him, even in the worst cases. Y/n noticed it, and worried her when he started to lose his shine.

— in my last job, I made a mistake and people got hurt — the confession was sincere. She wasn't lying, she was omitting that those people didn't just "got hurt", they died. She had killed them.

— You are human, humans make mistakes — he said stopping in front of an embellished door. — talk later? — he asked and Y/n nodded with a smile.

•••

After a month everything still was normal. No conspicuous action, no weird people. Y/n wondered why was she there? Was she really being punished by Fury? She had made a mistake, she had chose to save a person, she couldn't know that the objective was going to detonate the whole place. She couldn't read every single thought, her brain would melt if she even tried.

— Sorry, I need to... — said Sonny pointing at the copy machine, y/n blushed for being caught spacing out, again for the 4 time in a week

— I'm so sorry, allow me — y/n extended a hand offering to make the copy for Carisi.

— don't worry, I can push a button — he said making her smile and feel weird.

— please Mr. Carisi, let me be of help — she offered tilting her head a little bit, Sonny found that little action distracting and cute enough to give her the papers he needed to copy.

He saw her move, she was so elegant even just making copies.

— thank you — he told her sighing exhausted.

— don't worry Mr. Carisi, I'll do this, get it in a folder and get it back to you, why don't you go rest your eyes a bit? — she asked with a smile, noticing his tired demeanor

— I'll do it, if you start calling me Sonny — he negotiated and she laughed whole heartedly — come on, everytime you call me Mr. Carisi I feel like you are talking to my father —

— fine, you got yourself a deal — she offered her hand and he took her in his bigger one. Sonny felt asleep with the sound of the copy machine working.

— Sonny, Sonny — Y/n soft voice took him out of dreamland, he found out in that moment that his Nickname sounded awesome from Y/n lips.

•••

From Sonny's eyes y/n was an amazing woman who was able to help everyone with their tasks, she made copies, keep archives ordered, got everything for everyone. She made time to know all of the junior's ADA's of "her room", she served coffee when needed, got them food, kept clean clothes for them just in case. She was like a mother. Sometimes she even helped them found the info they needed. She made all of that and made it with a polite smile. She had been there for like a year and their interactions where short, but he was head over heels for her.

Why? Because she got a great sense of humor, she was nice, smart, sassy when needed, had an excellent memory, she made the best black coffee he had ever tasted. She never got nervous no matter the circumstances. He didn't understand how or why was she assigned to be the "mother hen" of 7 ADA's, but he was thankful. Some days became better the moment she gave him a smile and he imagined that smile was just for him.

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose in pain. It was past midnight and he was still in his office, working on papers. Practicing his opening statement.

— the truth... The truth....— he repeated trying to remember the next point of the speach. He grunted frustrated.

— Sonny? — the sudden voice made the attorney jump and Y/n laughed.

— Geez, doll! — he exclaimed surprised — You should use a bell — added more awake than before.

— doll? — Y/n questioned rising an eyebrow, Sonny turned red.

— Sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect you — he quickly apologized.

— you didn't, I actually like it — she admitted — I'll allow it — added in a solemn voice — with a condition councilor, only in private I don't need more gossips going around—

After saying those words, Y/n knew that she was digging her own grave. She liked Sonny.

•••

Y/n looked at her phone horrified. Nick had send her and encrypted message. Which was resumed to: You are free of SHIELD, live the life of Y/n Veith. The life he had created for her, an identity that couldn't be connected to the Spy agency. Y/n Y/l/n had died in what they called something like the purge of Hydra. He didn't needed her. He had died. Captain america had basically destroyed the corrupted SHIELD. This was her life now. She was what? a secretary? An assistant?

She should had fail with SHIELD, she should had been there with Fury, protecting him. But she didn't. She pretended nothing happened and followed his last order to her: live like Y/n Veith.

She went with the flow. Acted like everything was just fine, made a routine, followed it to the last point. Untill one day out of the blue she broke down crying in Sonny's office. He was her friend.

— what happened? — he asked on the other side of the desk, surprised that in the middle of his speech, y/n started crying. The case was difficult, a father died to protect his daughter. The teenager girl had been raped and her father was killed by the rapist. It was way more complicated but, that were the facts.

— sorry, sorry — she said cleaning her face with her hands, Sonny approached and offered her a handkerchief that she took hesitantly. — I lost, I lost him — she stuttered.

Sonny kneeled by her side, took the handkerchief and cleaned her beautiful face.

— I'm so sorry, doll — he said even if he didn't understand, Y/n felt his consternation.

— my father died — she said with a soft voice — my house burned down — she added and Sonny understood, her father adopted her, he had saved her and then lost it all. The case had hit too close to her.

— Come on, we had enough of this case — he decided getting up, taking her hands to get her to stand — I'll take you home — he said and she smiled with sadness.

— I don't want to go to my department — she confessed getting up and Sonny gave her a soothing smile.

— We can go to my place — he offered without a second intention, she nodded and they walked away from the office, Sonny ordered an Uber.

Outside of One Hogan place with a heavy heart, y/n leaned against Sonny and he hugged her while waiting for their ride, and during the ride.

Y/n fell asleep without nightmares for the first time in the 6 months after the dead of Nick. Sonny by her side, over the covers and behind a "wall" of pillows fell asleep with the image of a peaceful Y/n.

•••

Three months later, Y/n entered Sonny's little office, she said a "sorry to interrupt", the blond man stopped writing and turned to her eagerly, he tried to suppress his desire to look into her eyes but he wasn't that good at that.

He hadn't seen her in more than 14 days thanks to his overflow of cases and her being stole by homicides DA, who had discovered she was very good in investing.

She muttered a "what?" In mockery, as if the distance and time hadn't even happened and added a "I got you a donut!". A donut that he had craved since morning but wasn't able to get. He sighed a laugh, sometimes it was as if she could read his mind.

— you are life saver, doll— he sighed in relief taking the donut from her hand.

— Should I get you some coffee? — she asked with that caring tone that made him feel special.

— I would love that — he accepted as she merrily went to the coffee machine and poured him a cup and then a glass of water.

Sonny wondered about where did those pretty and elegant glasses came from, have they always been there? She left a bag in the table and walked back to him. He pretended to be working but it was hard to act when she was walking towards him with that dark red pencil skirt that hug perfectly the curb of her hips, the black blouse making contrast, hanging a bit loose over her torso.

— thanks doll — he said when she put the coffee and water in a corner of the desk, he looked at her with a smile — water? — he asked with a joking tone, y/n nodded

— yes, sir — she said in the same joking mood — I took an account of the caffeine you ingest by day, this could be dangerous for your health, so for every cup of caffeine, one of water — she explained with as much confidence as a lawyer making an opening statement.

— are you worried about me? — he was almost flirting, she blushed even if they sometimes flirted a bit.

— I worry about all of you — she pointed out and gave a mischievous smile that made Sonny blush.

— thank you, doll — he quipped with a smile, she smiled back and walked away to Parish desk, the man sat there looked down to his papers as Y/n put a bagel by his hand.

Sonny noticed how Tommy's ears got as read as a tomato and turned to look at her with adoration, the same look the other ADA's got everytime she was near. He had seen how things slowly changed with Y/n presence, at first they were rude, condescending, then they realized that she was excellent in her work. She had saved all of them more than once with little actions.

Y/n had a charming aura and some men in the office had asked her out, Tommy included, but she always turned them down, with an excellent excuse. "I'm seeing someone".

Carisi wondered who. Who was she dating?

•••

— Coffee — she announced as she took a folder and put it carefully away.

Sonny smiled and suddenly thought of Y/n lie about she seeing someone. She had never tell him about her boyfriend, he thought of all of those slice of life moments they had, the banters they have, the many times she had helped him. The times she would stay in his apartment so she wouldn't be alone.

Was he the person she was seeing?

— do you have plans for tonight? — he asked abruptly and Y/n looked at him surprised.

— I got a date with my bed, but I can reschedule — she offered with a smile, she could rest later, she had to enjoy every moment with Sonny.

— do it, I'll take you to a wonderful place — He said with all of his confidence, she giggled — after work? — she nodded contently.

— It's a deal — she said before walking away with a big smile in her face.

Sonny felt stupidly happy. It was him. She was dating him unofficially.

•••

That night Y/n tried to look as perfect as was possible in work clothes, she had refreshed herself, use a little more of make up. She was excited, she really liked Sonny and had wanted to go on a date with him, no work talk, no solving ways to state a question. She wanted to know him in a more personal way.

They sat in a table of a nice looking bar, a decent one. It wasn't pretentious, they actually served food and not just greasy fast food. She had told him distorted versions of stories with her "family and friends", (since she couldn't talk about her real life and training) like that time her father had taught her how to use a gun for her homework and she discovered she had weak fingers.

She heard about his time as a Police officer, a detective nonetheless! Sargent Benson seemed to be a very empathic person, Detective Tutuola was definitely a funny man, Amanda was for him like one more of his sisters. And Sonny discovered that she was adopted by a man called Nick, Nick Veith he guessed, since he thought that was her real last name.

She had two "adopted" sister and a brother: Maria, Natalie and Clinton. Maria was righteous, Nat was smart and sassy, Clint was funny and sometimes really annoying. Sonny thought he would get along easily with them.

They laughed between stories, they were getting fun untill Y/n felt there was something wrong. Something was about to happen. Something bad.

— Something wrong? — Y/n barely registered Sonny's voice before jumping over him yelling a "get down". A telekinetic wake made the other around people fall to the ground just in time as a rain of bullets came from the broken windows.

Sonny heard the glass breaking, people screaming in panic. Saw the bullets fly over him and the bottles in the bar breaking in slow motion. He had never experienced anything like that. The light weight of Y/n over him. And his monkey mind thought about how right that felt.

There was a "clank" from a gas' bomb, then a flash and a cloud of white smoke. People stood up and started running.

— Y/n — Sonny pulled her to see her face, he thought she would be scared, paralyzed from fear. However, when he saw her face there was no fear, she seemed confused, puzzled. — come on, we have to move —

Y/n was thinking the same, but she didn't know what was the right move: defend everyone there using her not-so-human powers? Run away and pretend to be a delicate woman, scared of the situation?

— doll? — Sonny sounded worried and in almost panic, a switch turned as boots hit the floor of the bar.

— Stay behind me — Y/n said with confidence getting up, feeling the presence of 8 people surrounding them, circling them. — and... — she looked at Sonny worried — don't get scared — she pleaded softly.

— Y/n Y/l/n surrender yourself — someone yelled and the woman felt her skin crawl, she hadn't hear her name in more than a year. It sounded good.

— is this about the accords? — She thought, aware of the Sokovia accords and what they proposed. She hadn't signed them. No one was supposed to know about her, her powers, she hadn't expected the government to notice her.

Nat? Clint? Maybe Maria had told them.

— That's right, put your hands in the air — the man ordered in a shout. Y/n closed her eyes and closed her hand in a thigh fist, making the fog disappear.

— Sorry, I can't do that— she confessed pushing the man with telekinesis. — I'm not a weapon you can use —

A new row of bullets flew towards Y/n and Sonny. A bright green light appeared in her eyes and all of the bullets stopped in the air, traces of the same light that made Y/n shine seemed to contain the little bullets like tendrills, the bullets turned in the air pointing at the squadron that was attacking her

— Y/n, no! — Sonny made her react, the tendrills disappeared and the bullets fell useless to the ground as the woman turned to see the Attorney.

— Sonny, sonny — she stuttered worried— no, no, no, no, I would never hurt them, I'm not a monster, I'm not! — she said almost in panic,not because of the attack but for the ideas Sonny could get.

Sonny saw the green and now red light form an eyes over Y/n, then monsters from nightmares formed from the light, monsters like dogs, with skulls covering the hideous animals with blood dripping from their snouts, bodies wet with a black substance. The animals roared and jumped to defend them.

Y/n saw fear in Sonny's eyes. She recognized it, a bright tendril started to form in the exact point of her heart, the fear taking form in her presence. Her hand squished the light over her chest, stopping something else to form.

He didn't know what to say. Carisi knew about the avengers, the new york incident had affected his work, he had saw everything about "ultron", he was informed about Tony Stark and the avengers every move. But he didn't know what was he supposed to say? "Sign the accords" was what he wanted to say. It was selfish for him to ask that, he couldn't do it.

— doll, you're not a monster— he finally found his own voice to say that. — but you have to go —

— Sonny, I... — the ADA put a strand of hair behind Y/n ear taking her by surprise.

— If you don't mind, I'll like to kiss you — he said making her blink in disbelief.

— yes please...— she said and Carisi smiled brightly, his large hand caressed her cheek and softly leave a tender kiss in her soft lips. It barely lasted more than a second. When Carisi opened up his eyes, everything was back to normal. Like a couple of minutes ago, right before the shooting.

In the table was a note: "Don't tell anyone" he recognized Y/n writing. He wondered if everything had been a dream, a hallucination. A part of him told him that no, that couldn't be his imagination. Y/n had left.

[g-perla]

The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo

Not even SJM knows what’s going on.

Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.

So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.

I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.

Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:

Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)

Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)

If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom. 

But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.

No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order. 

Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.

Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story.  The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things). 

I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:

Nesta 

OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP

Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters. 

Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then? 

The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)

Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable. 

Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).

To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours. 

Isn’t that wonderful?

To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):

The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.

How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)

She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.

Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.

She is often associated with death post her transformation

She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere

Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux

She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.

Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well

She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero

Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:

“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.” 

--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.

“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.” 

--Acomaf, animal comparison

“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

--Acomaf, emphasis mine

“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”

--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen

“Something great and terrible.”

--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻

“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”

--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.

“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“

--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes

“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?

What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”

--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.

“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”

--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.

“I am not like the others.”

--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.

“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.

The movement was not human.

Not fae.

Purely animal.

Purely predator.”

--Acowar

There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂

I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,

G

[crimsonspade]

The first sign something was terribly wrong was when he found Red Hood’s helmet. No, he reconsidered the past four hours. The first sign something was wrong was when he’d gotten a call from Alfred that there was a break-in at a blood bank, and as he’d been busy chasing a Catwoman acting abnormally, he’d called Hood. Only, Hood hadn’t answered. It was more out of character than Catwoman stealing some relic of a fifteenth-century chain whip over the statue of Bastet being featured at the Gotham City Museum.

Deciding to deal with Catwoman later, Batman had checked where Hood’s signal was coming from to determine why he wasn’t answering. Seeing his GPS put him in the same area as the bank, he was even more confused by Hood's radio silence.

Which brought him to the blood bank in question. He’d never had to deal with a robbery from this sort of location before, not even Freeze when he was searching for donors for his wife. It was quiet, not even a guard, but the door was very obviously forced open, hanging precariously off its hinges. There was a silence in the halls as he ventured further, looking for any signs of the intruder or his partner.

That was when his boot knocked into something that rolled across the floor, disturbing the quiet. Realizing it was his partner’s helmet, something Hood would rather risk death than take off where someone could potentially see him, Batman became deeply concerned. Of the occasions Hood had lost his helmet, he’d been gravely wounded 90% of the time.

“Hood? Can you hear me?” Batman dared to whisper, looking around him for some other sign his partner was here. He carefully crept forward, slower than before as he measured his steps. A batarang was already in hand in case he found his partner’s attacker first. It was only a few moments before he heard his boots step on something other than the tiled floor.

Looking down and flicking his cowl’s night vision on, he discovered a disturbing pool of blood. At least a liter, if not more. Before he could truly panic, he told himself he was surrounded by shelves full of blood. There was no reason to assume this was his partner’s.

Besides the fact Hood would have to lose that amount of blood before he’d allow his helmet to be removed.

Moving faster through the aisles and even more on guard, Batman moved towards the faint sound of something ripping. Blood smears across the floor and the shelves lead the way. As he turned the corner he spotted someone digging around in one of the shelves. It took only a second before he recognized them.

Dropping his tense shoulders and lowering his batarang, folding it away with a motion he didn’t even think about, he approached. “Hood! What’s happened, why is your helmet off and what are you doing?”

His friend froze for a second like a deer. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder at Batman. Even with his night vision activated, Batman noticed that Hood’s eyes glowed too brightly. He was less than five feet from him.

In a blur suddenly it was much less than that- Hood’s hands wrapped like vices on his biceps, his face a bare inch from him.

“You smell di-vine!” Hood hissed with a manic and bloody grin. It was then that what he’d initially ignored in his relief to see his partner standing on his own two feet and looking unharmed registered. The many empty bags of blood on the floor at Hood’s feet.

His partner rubbed his nose along the edge of Batman’s cowl. That’s when he noticed the second thing, Hood’s smile held four wicked fangs.

“Like the sweetest of nectars...I need to have a taste. You don’t mind, do you?” Like a viper, Hood struck, his fangs breaking through most of the kevlar that made up his suit. With a forceful shove, a shove he had to redouble when Hood wouldn’t pry loose, Batman tore him away from his neck.

“Hood! Get a hold of yourself!”

A high pitched laugh was his reply, “Hold of myself? I’ve never felt so whole! So- in control!” Hood gave a dramatic spin with his arms out, his red cape weighed down a bit by the blood soaked into the edges.

“You’re covered in blood.”

“Am I?” Hood’s glowing red eyes looked down at his suit shirt. It was more red than white. “Oops. Bit of a messy eater.” His grin did not diminish, and he dragged his tongue over his bloodied fangs. “Speaking of...I still haven’t gotten that taste!”

Hood lunged at him, claws extended and Batman leaned back into the motion, using his feet to kick him off with the added momentum. His friend went flying into the shelves, breaking glass and spilling even more blood. As Batman readied cuffs to try to pin him, Hood seemed to not be able to stop himself from rolling in the new pool of blood.

“Mmm, yum...but still...not as alluring as what I can hear pumping in your veins, Batsy my dear.” A swipe from the claws tearing through Hood’s gloves caught Batman’s thigh, but just a graze and not enough to cripple him. It did however slow him down enough that when Hood attempted another tackle he took them both to the floor, pinning Batman down with strength Hood didn’t normally possess.

“What happened to you Hood? Tell me what’s going on!”

“Oh my Bats. You’ve got competition you know? I wonder if I can keep you to myself…” Hood leaned closer, but seemed to stop himself. “Ngk, stop- resisting-!” Batman narrowed his eyes, noticing the sudden hesitance.

“Hood?”

“Nnno! Not Bats!” As Hood seemed to be at war with himself, Batman heard metal sing through the air.

Thwack!

The next second something hit Hood right in the head, knocking him clean off of Batman. He went rolling into more shelves, knocking them over and pinning him beneath them. More blood soaked the tiles, covering Hood’s normally pale features. He didn’t get up. The click of heels echoed in the room.

“What am I going to do with you Bats? You can’t handle one little baby fang by yourself?”

“Catwoman. What are you doing here?” Batman narrowed his eyes at the thief, currently holding the metal whip she’d stolen earlier.

“Saving your ass from becoming dinnertime.”

Getting up, Batman made his way over to his friend, checking to see if he was alright. Catwoman protested, “I wouldn’t get too close to it.”

“Him. You know he’s my partner.”

“He was. It certainly ain’t anymore. Did you miss the part where it was about to eat you?”

Batman shot her a glare over his shoulder as he knelt down to check a pulse. He was distracted from her words when he realized he didn’t feel one at first. Taking off his gloves to do it by hand, he focused and felt a very faint thrum of life. He let out a soft sigh of relief. Looking at his head, now matted with blood that was both his own and from the surroundings, he noticed that the wound caused by Catwoman’s whip was healing remarkably-inhumanly fast.

“You know more about this situation than you’re telling. Start talking.”

Selina shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. Just let me finish up and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

“He’s out cold, start talking now.”

“It’ll only be out another sixty seconds if we’re lucky. I need to stake it.”

Batman took a menacing step towards her, “Over my dead body.”

The cat burglar huffed, “That’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t move!”

He wavered for a moment before turning back to his partner. The wound in his head was nearly closed, and Batman needed answers.

“We’re taking him back to the Batcave, I’ll put him in a cell and then you will answer my questions.” He didn’t give her an option. Using some of his cuffs he cuffed his friend and scooped him up. He was dripping blood, the smell was cloying but he refused to flinch.

Catwoman rolled her eyes and he heard her mutter under her breath, “it’s your funeral.”

The walk to the batmobile was tense, and neither said a word as he sped through Gotham streets toward the Batcave. Hood woke up as they pulled in, but Batman was able to hold him long enough to lock him into the cell.

Hood used to call it a drunk tank as a joke.

Batman wished this were as simple as waiting for a drug to wear off.

But as he listened to Catwoman explain, answers given like pulling teeth and doing nothing for his rising frustration, that hope was dashed.

“There’s no cure?”

“Not once he’s had human blood.”

“I refuse to believe that. If it’s an infection of the blood, there has to be a cure.”

“Bruce, I’m telling you. People have tried for centuries and there is no going back once turned.”

“People haven’t been me.”

Selina threw her hands in the air and shouted, “You arrogant dick! You really think you can solve the plague of vampirism before he breaks out of that cell and eats you for dinner?”

Bruce smirked at her, “I got you to stop calling him ‘it’.”

That earned him a scathing glare, but Bruce couldn’t care about that. He had work to do. So did Selina. Someone had to turn Hood into this after all, and that someone was loose in Gotham streets. If the circumstances were different Bruce would suit back up and help her hunt whoever had invaded their city. But with his partner down and needing him, he wasn’t about to leave.

[thefanficmonster]

Listener

John (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope) x Reader (Male)

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE GAME LITTLE HOPE

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: He wishes to be fine, he wants to be ok. He only wants to get over that night, bury it in the past and push forward. But you can’t bury what you can’t see or touch - the scars on your psyche, the trauma, the nightmares. He’s not able to battle it...not on his own at least.

Requested by @dark-pictures-until-dawn Hello dear! Sorry to be posting your request so late. I really hope you have stayed patient enough to still want to read the fic because I’m really looking forward to hearing your feedback, especially since it’s my first time writing a male reader. Please enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

I can’t go home. I feel unsafe and lonely there. I feel how shallow is the meaningfulness of my existence and am constantly reminded of how quickly and gruesomely it was almost taken from me back in that ghost town. How I was prepared to do anything to shield my life as well as the lives of those I was responsible of from the horrors Little Hope provided for us. Speaking of my companions at the time, I think they’re doing far better than I am. Angela is, well, Angela - unbothered by the real problem, rather focusing on herself, mostly appearance-wise. Taylor and Daniel are each other’s support and have finally made their relationship public and I’m really happy for them. They deserve nothing but the best and I hope they get through this soon. Andrew left for home for a week or two to be with his family until the concussion and the trauma wore off at least a small bit. I was really worried for him and still am, but I’m at ease knowing he’s surrounded by people who’ll take care of him.

I, however, am left to my own devices. Devices I’m not sure I have. I can hear the weak side of me whispering to me whenever I get home, telling me it’s ok to break the streak at a time like this, even encouraging me to do so. Telling me it’ll be alright, that I’ll be able to pick myself back up, but for now, I can turn to my old friend for comfort. I can allow the liquor to pick me up like it did then.  But then, thank the heavens, my rational side kicks in right on time - one second before it can be too late. It makes me ask myself if alcohol ever did anything for me except dig me a grave for my own dignity. Did it ever pick me up, or was it always the illusion behind which was the defeat and demise it truly gave me?

This rational side has helped me put down the bottle just as I was about to unscrew its cap, and I’ll forever be in its debt. Lord knows I’d be back in the same awful spot I was in before I started by journey of getting clean. I can’t go through the hellish first months of recovery another time. But the escape is a little too hard to resist sometimes.

Tonight it’s especially bad. This afternoon I had a meetup with the principle of the college during which I had to tell him all that happened that night, all the while enduring his ‘you’ve gone mad’ stare mixed with pity. He doesn’t believe any of us, how could he? I wouldn’t believe it either if I were in his shoes. Still, I’m the one who he bothers the most about it, given the others are students and I’m basically an employee of his and I am not allowed to show any sort of disrespect, no matter how much I’d like to put him in his place, if I want to keep my job.  Having to reach to the dark side of my mind for the memories of that night took a toll on me like it hasn’t been able to in the past three days. I sometimes experience rather decent days during which my mind is too occupied to crack under the weight of the trauma. But then come the nights when I avoid sleeping just to unintentionally sink in deep slumber which is interrupted by a nightmare that sends me in a state of absolute terror.

Those are the instances in which I need metal chains to tie my wrists and feet so I don’t go back to old habits. 

Why I still have alcohol in my house is beyond me. It’s like I’m taunting myself to fail what I’ve worked so hard for. Like dangling a piece of meat in front of a lion. The problem is - I’m both the person dangling the meat and the lion. I end up hurting myself by seeking comfort. It’d be a straight up lie if I tell myself I’m strong enough to resist temptation. The only reason why I do so is to avoid those first few months of the new attempted recovery. If I even attempt it, that is.

Because of the deteriorated state my mind is in right now and my weakened defenses, I have made the only move I can think of - sleeping in the school tonight. I’m lucky to have a couch in my office which I share with another professor, so sleeping here will at least be comfortable. The weather has been holding up well, so I won’t even need to bring out the heater. Just as long as no one...

“John? You’re still here?“

…sees me.

The familiar voice scares me half to death, bringing me out of my spiraling thoughts. I’ve become really jumpy and easily terrified which I consider to be reasonable. Other people are rather cautious around me and when approaching me, which I appreciate. 

The person standing in the doorway with one hand on the handle and a startled expression on his face is my colleague Y/N. He’s the professor I’m sharing this office with. Him and I started working at this college at the same time and we quickly bonded over our first-day-on-the-job anxiety. He is pretty swell guy, about my age and height. He is the laid back professor, you don’t see many of his kind, especially since he is an ECON professor. Some of my students are in his class too, and they have nothing but kind words to say about him and his teaching. While the other professors, myself included, sport suits to work, he shows up in a polo shirt and jeans. He hasn’t missed a single day of work and his class flaunts the highest score in the whole college. That should tell you enough about how professional and well-put-together of a person Y/N is. 

“Um, yeah...I just have some things to finish up.“ I wave my hand dismissively, hoping he’d leave it at that. But we’ve been colleagues and friends too long for him to let that slide so easily. He knows me well, people are an open book to him in general. He has told me he wanted to pursue psychology but his parents talked him out of it which explains his ability to tap into a person’s psyche like a literal mind reader. God knows I need a psychologist right now.

Y/N steps inside, closing the door behind him. “I can wait for you. We could get some dinner if you want.“ He suggests casually, shrugging his shoulders a tiny bit.

My eyes go wide, “No!” I answer a little too quickly and too loudly, causing him to frown in confusion, “I mean...don’t wait for me. There’s no need. It’s already late. We could get dinner another time.”

Y/N narrows his eyes slightly as if attempting to read a sign in the distance. I know he’s reading me. I bet he doesn’t even have to try so hard. I’m an open book that has suffered too much damage recently. And I’m not only talking the events back in that God forsaken town.

I try avoiding his gaze but when he says my name I can look nowhere but his eyes, “John, I know you’re still rattled and traumatized. Who wouldn’t be? Just know that you can talk to me anytime, about anything.“ His hand rests on my shoulder, “I’m one of those people who believes you. I believe you 100%” He chuckles, shaking his head, “I’ve researched that stuff probably more than I should’ve when I was a teenager. And it still intrigues me. Though I’m really sorry you had to go through such horrible events. You know you can take a paid leave for a month or two, right? No one will hold it against you. I’d be more than happy to cover for you if you’d like.” 

I find myself smiling at Y/N’s words, “I really appreciate that, Y/N, but I’m afraid that if I don’t come to work I’ll end up losing my mind. Hell...“ I motion around the office, “I don’t even wanna leave. ‘Home’ doesn’t seem so homey at the moment.“ I force a melancholic chuckle, deprived of almost all emotion.

“Hey, now that offends me.“ He frowns, showing off just how much I’ve hurt his feelings, “You’d rather crash here than come over to my place? Come on, John, you should know better than that.“ He pauses for a second, eyeing me suspiciously before a smirk appears on his face, “You’re just afraid I’ll bring out the chess board, aren’t you?“

I can’t help but laugh, “Not at all. We both know I’m the better chess player.“

A mock offended expression makes its way onto Y/N’s face as his eyes widen, “Oh, you’re so on now.” He quickly open the door, one foot already out in the hall.

I hurriedly grab my jacket and briefcase from where I left them this morning, “Not before dinner, though. My treat.” I call after him, my arm automatically reaching out for him, taking gentle hold of his wrist, “And, thank you, Y/N. This means a lot to me. Your support, your company, your friendship...everything.”

Y/N turns around, sending me one of his bright, dazzling smiles, “I was on board with you till you said friendship.” He snorts, moving his hand so it can hold mine and give it a gentle squeeze, “Jokes aside, John, I really want to help you and be there for you. So, please, I’m begging you, don’t push me away. At least try not to, ok?”

The warmth seeping from his eyes comforts me, helps me forget what’s been bothering me, at least momentarily. He always understands, he’s always prepared to help, to comfort, prepared to give advice and receive criticism. He’s human, obviously, but a human who understands what it’s like to be let down, brought down and forced to pick yourself back up, I haven’t found many who understand that in my life. He was my support when I decided to get clean, my biggest stability pillar, why couldn’t he help me now too? Why don’t I allow him to make me at least half the person he is?

“I’ll try, Y/N. I promise.“

And this is a promise I’ll keep, starting by discarding all the alcohol bottles in my house.

[dietraumerei]

12 - Silk

Read the rest of my GOC stories on AO3 here!

(I just really, really like the idea of them having to take turns conveniently dying, and the other having to see to the funeral and then helping them escape.)

Aziraphale lay very still, just in case. It wasn't so much that he was worried about graverobbers, but he'd definitely startled some in the past. Breaking into a mausoleum or digging out a fresh grave only to be met with the corpse sitting up and going 'Good somebody Crowley, must you always take an age? You forgot about me again, didn't you!' generally lead to a lot of screaming and flailing and ugh. Aziraphale simply couldn't be bothered.

So when he heard the soft sound of a pick chipping away at a newly-sealed door, he lay quite still. It wasn't comfortable, precisely, but he had some idea that a hard surface was good for one's back, so perhaps it was all right.

The picking took rather a long time. Ugh, if Crowley had got drunk and lost track of time again...

“Right, s'me angel.” Finally. Aziraphale sat up in relief.

“Oh, thank goodness, I was going simply mad with boredom,” he said, hopping out of the stone sarcophagus, after shifting the cover aside. “Hullo, dear.” A perfunctory kiss, to say thank you. It was kind of Crowley to rescue him, but then it was also a bit Crowley's fault he'd had to 'die' in such a hurry.

“Next time you're getting a shallow grave on the edge of town,” Crowley grumped, examining her fingernails. “Easier on me.”

“Tell me about it,” Aziraphale said. “I can bloody well rescue myself out of one of those.” He sighed loudly. “Or, you know, I could not need to conveniently die in the first place.”

“That wasn't my fault!” Crowley protested.

A pause. It was, literally, silent as the grave.

“All right, it was a little my fault,” Crowley said. “Did you like your funeral? I hope you appreciate the silk shroud. Could've gone with linen, but got to show my husband off in death and all that.”

“It's very nice,” Aziraphale admitted, and snapped his fingers, transforming it into rather a nice silk suit, which did cover a bit more skin, blessedly. “And I did like it. I thought your needing to be carried into the church because you were so prostrate with grief was a clever touch, by the way, we'll have to remember that.”

Crowley bowed her head in acknowledgement of her clever plans. “Right, then. That's you sorted, and don't worry, all your worldly goods are going to the orphanage. Your widow's taken a vow of extreme poverty to go live out her days in grief.”

“Bless,” Aziraphale said boredly, manifesting a small mirror so he could check his hair and the lay of his collar. “Orphanage, though? That's awfully close to doing good, my sweet.”

“It's your stuff,” Crowley pointed out, wrapping her cloak more firmly around her, now that it looked like Aziraphale was finally ready to get a move on. “They're all going to grow up to be capitalists, just to be able to dress in silks all day, every day.”

Aziraphale gave her a withering look, and considered pointing out that Crowley was wearing just as much silk, but, well. They did still have to get back to England together, and having a spat with the being who just broke one out of the grave was ever so boorish. So, instead, he held out his arm and once Crowley had tucked hand into his elbow, snapped his fingers and sent them home.

[osakaso5]

IDOLiSH7 4th Anniversary Special Story: Best Wishes...

Chapter 1: A Job And An Idea

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Ryo Tsukumo: Happy anniversary!

Pop!

ŹOOĻ: .........

Toma Inumaru: ...That startled me...

Haruka Isumi: ...What anniversary..?

Minami Natsume: I wonder...

Torao Mido: The contents of his party cracker got in my hair...

Ryo Tsumugi: Come on! You're too lethargic! Do it over!

Toma Inumaru: And you're weirdly excited..?

Ryo Tsukumo: Happy anniversary! Yaaay..!

ŹOOĻ: Y-yaaay...

Ryo Tsukumo: WHOOO! Louder!

ŹOOĻ: Yaaay!

Ryo Tsukumo: Hey... Why are you so excited, when you don't even know what we're celebrating?

Ryo Tsukumo: If you get too carried away, you'll find yourselves buying magic beans before you know it. Are you sure you want that?

Torao Mido: Magic beans, eh. That sounds pretty interesting. So, what's this all about? Is it your birthday, Ryo-san?

Haruka Isumi: Ah, is it? How old are you now?

Ryo Tsukumo: 25 years old.

Minami Natsume: Lying about your age... Perhaps there is a human side to you, after all.

Toma Inumaru: Huh? But wouldn't he be saying "happy birthday", if it was his  birthday? What's this anniversary stuff  all about?

Ryo Tsukumo: You know that large shopping center, Sky Blue Mall, right?

Haruka Isumi: Yeah. The one they built in the city a few years back...

Ryo Tsukumo: That's the one. It was built in hopes of attracting people, but never boomed the way it was intended to.

Ryo Tsukumo: They're renovating the place just in time for its 4th anniversary.

Torao Mido: Renovating after only four years? That's a little early, don't you think?

Minami Natsume: It's most likely due to their poor performance. They're trying to reform their image with a quick makeover.

Ryo Tsukumo: Exactly. Their plan is to shamble from the dead with one last elixir, so they won't have to suffer a slow death.

Toma Inumaru: You didn't have to put it like that...

Ryo Tsukumo: It seems they're planning to put plenty of vigor and  budget into their 4th anniversary re-opening.

Ryo Tsukumo: They're advertising Sky Blue Mall quite a lot, whether rebuilding is going to help them or not.

Ryo Tsukumo: They were looking  for talents that could fit their four year theme, so I snatched this job for ŹOOĻ.

Haruka Isumi: But it's four years, right? We've only just debuted.

Ryo Tsukumo: It's not about your debut. This marks the fourth year since the four of you first met.

ŹOOĻ: Ah...

ŹOOĻ: .........

ŹOOĻ: Huh..?

Haruka Isumi: No, that doesn't add up at all.

Toma Inumaru: Four years ago? Literally none of us had met each other.

Ryo Tsukumo: What do you mean? Try to remember that time carefully. Torao, you were a high schooler four years ago, yes? What did you do back then?

Torao Mido: I was the student council president.

Toma, Haruka, & Minami: No way!

Torao Mido: It's true!

Toma Inumaru: Hey, stop playing along with Ryo-san's bullcrap. You're just digging your own grave.

Torao Mido: Maybe I should dig your grave. I was an honor student. Can't you tell?

Ryo Tsukumo: Alright, Torao was the student council president at a prestigious academy...

Torao Mido: What are you writing down?

Ryo Tsukumo: Nope, I'm not showing you. What about you, Haruka? What were you doing four years ago?

Haruka Isumi: Me? Four years ago, I sang in the choir of the neighborhood church...

Toma, Minami, & Torao: No way!

Torao Mido: You were such a good kid.

Minami Natsume: How adorable.

Toma Inumaru: I wanna see you in that choir uniform. You got pictures?

Haruka Isumi: No. It wasn't anything that special, really... A lot of kids from the neighborhood went there.

Ryo Tsukumo: Haruka sang in a church choir... What about you, Minami?

Minami Natsume: Four years ago, I would have been filming The Cursed Serpent's Mirror.

Toma Inumaru: Ah! That horror blockbuster..!!!

Torao Mido: I was too scared to go see that one...

Haruka Isumi: I had to close my eyes every time they showed commercials for it...

Minami Natsume: Here is a picture from back then.

Toma, Haruka, & Torao: Gyah..!

Toma Inumaru: Creepy..! That's you, Mina!? Is this special effects make up!?

Torao Mido: Normal humans can't make that kind of face...

Minami Natsume: Fufu. You flatter me. This movie is famous for its final scene. Would you like to see it?

Haruka Isumi: No!!! That's enough... I'm not gonna be able to go to the toilet tonight...

Ryo Tsukumo: I know what you mean. Horror makes even bathing scarier. You start imagining all kinds of stuff in the shower.

Ryo Tsukumo: Like deathly pale women in the mirror, or children's faces staring up at you from the floor, or dark shadows behind the frosted glass...

Haruka Isumi: Don't start describing things that'll make me more scared! You're horrible..!!!

Ryo Tsukumo: Oh? Haruka, behind you...

Haruka Isumi: Stop!!!

Ryo Tsukumo: Hehe. OK, OK. Minami was filming a movie. And you, Toma?

Toma Inumaru: I was still a part of NO_MAD. But I also went to school properly, so I was kinda like Haru is now.

Haruka Isumi: Ugh...

Toma Inumaru: Don't "ugh" me. Your school years are in important time, when you get to have lots of fun.

Ryo Tsukumo: Huh? And what about people who didn't have fun?

Toma Inumaru: That's... Well...

Torao Mido: I don't think there's anybody who didn't have fun. If you live normally, you'll get a girlfriend and excel in your club activities, doing something productive every day.

Haruka Isumi: Not everyone's a normie student council prez like you.

Minami Natsume: I didn't experience that, either. I could rarely go to school due to my work, so I have few proper memories to speak of.

Torao Mido: Really?

Minami Natsume: Yes. On the rare occasion that I went back to school, I'd have so many Valentine's Day chocolates piled up that I'd feel bad.

Haruka Isumi: You're just a normie, too!

Toma Inumaru: Haru, Haru! I got chocolates, too! Since I was an idol!

Haruka Isumi: Shut up! Even I've gotten chocolates before!

Toma, Torao, & Minami: From who?

Haruka Isumi: ........ It's a secret.

Toma, Torao, & Minami: Oh dear...

Ryo Tsukumo: Well then, next Valentine's Day, I'll have to use my own handmade chocolates to turn the holiday into a traumatic event for you all...

Toma Inumaru: Why are you always so quick to say creepy stuff...

Ryo Tsukumo: A student council president, a choirboy, an actor, and an idol. Despite living in completely different worlds, the four of you met by chance four years ago.

Ryo Tsukumo: Torao, do you remember your vice president?

Torao Mido: Vice president? There were two of them...

Ryo Tsukumo: The taller one.

Torao Mido: Yeah, I remember 'em.

Ryo Tsukumo: The park you took her out on a date once was actually being used as a filming location for The Cursed Serpent's Mirror at the time.

Torao Mido: Huh..?

Minami Natsume: Is that so? You were there at the same time as me?

Torao Mido: No, the vice prez was a guy. I wouldn't have taken him out on a date.

Ryo Tsukumo: Tsk...

Minami Natsume: Ryo-san... What are you trying to accomplish by fabricating stories?

Ryo Tsukumo: Wait, next. Haruka!

Ryo Tsukumo: As a choirboy who admired idols, you once went to a NO_MAD concert.

Toma Inumaru: Really!? You should've told me! I'm so happy to hear that!

Haruka Isumi: N-no, I never did that...

Toma Inumaru: Huh? W-what the hell. I got really excited there for a sec.

Toma Inumaru: Ryo-san, stop making shit up. None of us met four years ago.

Ryo Tsukumo: That's true.

Haruka Isumi: See!?

Minami Natsume: None of us thought otherwise.

Torao Mido: Oh. Too bad, it would've felt nice and fateful if we actually had met.

Minami Natsume: You're such a romantic, Mido-san.

Torao Mido: You don't believe in fate, despite being a fortune teller?

Minami Natsume: I do, but I have to wonder whether it applies to us.

Ryo Tsukumo: If not, then we have to make something up, since I accepted this 4th anniversary job.

Toma Inumaru: Don't make anything up! If we're caught lying, the people of Sky Bue Mall will be disappointed, too. It's their anniversary and everything.

Ryo Tsukumo: This world is full of fabrications. Edison didn't actually invent electricity, and Apollo 11 didn't actually land on the Moon.

Haruka Isumi: Really!?

Minami Natsume: Don't listen to him.

Ryo Tsukumo: If we turn the job down now, there'll be chaos. It's nicer if we  force some kind of connection between you guys. Don't you have any material?

Torao Mido: Even if you ask that...

Haruka Isumi: A student council president, a choirboy, an actor, and an idol...

Toma Inumaru: Hmm, how about this? You guys used to be my fans, and...

Haruka, Torao, & Minami: Objection.

Toma Inumaru: Why!? Isn't it nice and simple!?

Haruka Isumi: It's not fair if only you get to show off!

Minami Natsume: I don't want people to say that my music was influenced by NO_MAD. Their styles are completely different.

Torao Mido: How do you think I'll feel if all my future interviews will be   about how I used to be your fan?

Toma Inumaru: Hmm... Then what should we go with?

Haruka Isumi: What if we just met by chance? We could say we shared a table at a restaurant or something.

Toma Inumaru: That's a great idea! We ran into each other at a fast food joint!

Torao Mido: I don't go to fast food places.

Minami Natsume: I rarely visit them, as well.

Toma Inumaru: ........ Then, maybe we met at a trendy café...

Haruka Isumi: Cafés charge over 300 yen for a glass of juice! Do you really think a middle schooler's gonna go there?

Toma Inumaru: You've got a point... Now that we think about it, there's not many ways we could've ran into each other.

Haruka Isumi: I guess not...

Minami Natsume: I suppose...

Torao Mido: Right...

Ryo Tsukumo: That you met at all was a miracle... You should be grateful to the person who made it happen. That would be me.

Ryo Tsukumo: Hmm, I'm all out of good ideas. Let's just come up with something random. Like a school feud.

Torao Mido: A school feud!?

Ryo Tsukumo: Toma was a gang leader who challenged rival schools to duels.

Toma Inumaru: Isn't that something from over forty years ago, rather than four!?

Ryo Tsukumo: Haruka was the younger brother of Toma's girlfriend.

Haruka Isumi: Huh!? Don't just make up a sister for me!

Ryo Tsukumo: Torao was the student council president of a rival school. He was secretly a yanki gang leader.

Torao Mido: Sounds good. I can do that.

Ryo Tsukumo: Minami was a sukeban from a rival school. He called everyone "y'all" (1).

Minami Natsume: Ryo-san. What is a sukeban?

Ryo Tsukumo: Alright, it's decided!

Toma Inumaru: Seriously!? We're gonna go with that one!?

Haruka Isumi: I don't even have a sister!

Ryo Tsukumo: Sure, you do. I've met her.

Haruka Isumi: Huh..!?

Torao Mido: Stop lying to children.

Haruka Isumi: Oh, it was a lie. It was a lie, right?

Minami Natsume: Ryo-san. What do you mean by me referring to eveyone as y'all?

Ryo Tsukumo: Well then, now that we've got your origin story in order, I'm counting on you to do the job. 

To be continued...

Translator’s notes..? 

1) a sukeban is the leader of a (school)girl gang. also, ryo originally mentions minami using the first person pronoun “atai”, which is very informal and feminine, but since english only has one first person pronoun, i changed it up a bit to make more sense

[commonalex]

Sensors

So uhhh… “commonalex_”, “Common Alex”, “cOmMoN aLeX”..?  It’s basically the same, pick your fave, no biggie. It’s just that commonalex really blurs the line between an alias and a username, ever since people’s legal name seem more and more out of date for their purpose. A name assigned to you like that without any option back then can’t reflect the scumbag you ended up today, and people are slowly realising this. Like, how many can identify you just by your grandparents’ name generator and how many know you as that richie_tameimpala93 fuck that posts these shit ass stories everyone skips? How many know Bruce instead of Batman? How many know this kid instead of, uhhh, y’know, his actual name (yeah it’s in the title, I know, shut up)? How did you come up with a poetry collection- you know- living and breathing in <place current year here>? Like, what the fuck?  You have a point there (laughs). I know well how cringey, dumb or miserable poetry slams can be, how pretentiousness creeps behind these weird haikus your aunt posts on fb and how exhausting all these rumblings without any trace of cohesion but a bunch of enters smashed here and there (cracking up). This is why I tried to not have a single line without a purpose. All that’s left is what I want to communicate as transparent and less chatterboxy possible to prove that whatever I made has a point and a place (hilariously shitting ourselves from manic laughter, a priest preaches above us at the moment and we get dirt thrown at us due to death by funny as hell humor and such). Mmm, sounding a bit guilty. Like you were ashamed somehow to do something like this. Why’s that oh dear conventionalalexander_?  It was the most natural thing to put out as a finished work. Prose and short stories have their charm, ok, but I always have to convey what I want to say behind a cAtChY enough premise that seems worthy for someone to read it; even just for the aesthetics. With poetry I cut the middleman on one hand and on the other I get closer to the art format I prefer the most, music albums. I used this approach like I was writing my “album”, either by following some beat inside my head or planning out the structure of what I intended to capture with all this. So my collection consists of 12 “tracks”; enough to trigger an effect (or some sort of a situation) without getting tiresome. I know the attention spans I have to deal with. I don’t want to give people chores. I want to chat with someone as long as it takes to take a better peek inside my head. That’s very woke, my man, congrats. Sensors really seem like just the right kind of thing to be put inside the literature textbooks of the future along with Rupi Kaur, Savannah Brown and this particular man over here.  I’m not delusional, Sensors ain’t getting anywhere. Not that I didn’t want it, in some sense. I planned to print 40 copies of it and push them for free to whoever would like to pity me, but the world decided to turn into a huge distributed big brother-esque shit filled people spamming 24/7 that we all are going to die. It didn’t take me much time to understand during these circumstances that my plan wouldn’t quite fit to Sensors either way. It’s a product of the internet and self-inflicted isolation, it can’t afford to lose its home court advantage. All this crushes every hidden dream of mine about seeing my bs printed, collecting dust on somebody’s bookshelf, just to boast about how much of a totally real writer I am to poor innocent people that have the misfortune to listen to me talking. Ok look this might seem to make some sense but no one gives a flying fuck go get a actual job you moron like for fuck sake nobody asked for this why are you still talking about it go fuck yourself asshole.  I'm trying so hard to not be seen as some cynical douche playing the know-it-all schtick. I really do. However, I do understand how much can a bunch of poems worth at this very moment (spoiler alert: fewer than absolute nothing). Debord wrote that forms of expression such as poetry are doomed, something I both understand and get behind. Nevertheless I ain't planning on no such thing as a "resurrection"; nostalgia is the coward's approach towards the fear of today's uncertainty. I write about now, as a person that lives in sync and deals with the shit of the present. Anything else would be a clumsy grave-digging attempt that screams "boohoo I was born in the wrong generation", even with the best of intentions. And why would anyone care about this, man?  Dunno.  This extremely sterile type of expression just for the sake of the expression you typically find inside boring ass museum exhibitions, bittersweet classic literature or fake deep songs always bugged me and always motivated me to find alternatives that would bypass those miserable bullshit, just so I could draw some loose gray parallels with what I was living at the moment.  But alternatives got more and more scarce, and the internal burning started making its way to my throat and hand. I couldn't feel through other hosts anymore and this "oh ok then I guess I'm gonna make it myself instead" attitude didn't quite work out. I began to censor myself based on the assumption that by this way I wouldn't get lost in pretentiousness and laziness of the "others". I was literally explaining everything I wrote while I was writing it with a stupid perfectionist complex in the back of my head, just so my works would pass the test of time by not making me cringe just as much as reading sad fanfics of a person who really needs friends (and yet to this day I can't read anything I wrote without feeling like I got kicked in the balls).      I've lost the way to talk about exactly what’s eating me from the inside because I'm afraid I might look too obvious and banal. I've lost the words needed to express myself and honestly I can't feel a thing around me anymore. But I'm in the process of fixing that, for real. I now realise how in vain all my efforts to connect back to the world were, until Sensors came to help me. To remember once again my sense of humanity and hug the shit out of it. To show the damage I caused upon myself by being disconnected all this time. To get a better look at what boasts my reaction, my blues, my sex drive and my creativity deep inside.      This is a start of something already ending.  These are the data I got this far from my new Sensors. 

Online aesthetic reading over at commonsensors.github.io

Download the pdf chapbook here

[littlemisssquiggles]

RWBY Musings #50: Oscar’s Great and Powerful Semblance A Squiggle Meister’s Views on ThatKaitoDan’s RWBY Theory.

megashadowdragon asked “what are your thoughts www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=9YElXr5_Mqw”

Squiggles Answers:

Well first off, appreciative shout out to both @che1sea-xiao-long​ and @megashadowdragon​ for sharing this video with me.

I actually really, REALLY like ThatKaitoDan’s theory on Oscar’s possible semblance being sealing---the ability to permanently take away someone’s ability to use their semblance in combat.

I like Dan’s concept because I appreciated how he was able to connect it back to Princess Ozma---the Wizard of Oz character that many RWBY theorists have speculated Oscar to be influenced by. So that titbit I enjoyed the most about his theory commentary. If Oscar’s semblance does have a sealing kind of effect then I can anticipate it being what finally stops Hazel Rainart in his tracks, should he and Oscar have their inevitable rematch.

The last time our heroes faced off against this rampaging juggernaut, none of them were successful to stop him. Neither the combined efforts of everyone teaming up to combat him nor Weiss utilizing her summons amplified by Jaune’s semblance was enough to thwart Hazel. Hazel, with his own semblance that enables him to block out pain, is a nearly unstoppable villain which currently places him as a very unbeatable foe.

The heroes were fortunate enough that the arrival of the Mistral authorities and the announcement of Cinder’s fall was what caused Hazel to retreat with Emerald and Mercury. If the battle had been allowed to continue, I don’t think they would’ve fared well.

Though Oz did make mention of Hazel having a ‘limit’ to his semblance, this still makes him dangerous because if Hazel can take being empowered by two shards of dust crystals into his body, then how much can he take? What exactly is Hazel’s limit?

I’m curious to know just how many dust crystals Hazel can take before he completely overloads himself on power. And even if he does combust from all the energy within the crystals, I don’t think a still rampaging and unstable Hazel Rainart will be any less a threat against our heroes.

Here’s what I think. I think in a rematch, Hazel will use so much dust that he’ll literally risk killing himself in the process. He’ll lose control and put his life at death’s doorstep. I think it’s in a moment like that where Oscar possessing a power that can seal or perhaps nullify another’s semblance would be a powerful asset. It’s what I think could be a very key factor in finally stopping Hazel.

Picture a crazed Hazel transforming himself into a human dust golem, no longer able to control the power being emitting from the embedded dust in his body. It’s in this moment where Oscar gets a crazy idea to climb on top of Hazel’s back.

Removing both of his gloves so that he can have better physical contact, Oscar uses the full extent of his semblance on Hazel; nullifying his abilities. This tactic works as it slows Hazel’s movements. With his pain resistance switched off a la Oscar Pine, Hazel begins to thrash around, now wreathing from the excruciating pain with Oscar holding on for dear life but still managing to keep the giant man neutralized.

This will later allow for the other heroes to quickly remove the dust shards from Hazel, ending his tirade. I figured this would’ve been how they defeated Hazel during the Haven Battle but no, the most we got was Nora Valkyrie going all supercharged on him and whaling him through the front door. This still by the way, didn’t stop Hazel either.

As I said already, the next time the heroes go up against Hazel, I doubt they’ll be able to stop him like last time. Not to mention that I figured a rematch with Hazel would be the best opportunity for Oscar to unlock his semblance in the heat of battle. The events of V4-V5 already set up Hazel being a sort of arch nemesis to both Oscar and Ozpin so if I had to predict a perfect time for our veteran farm boy turned wizard incarnate to awaken his own hidden power, it would be then. But this is just my assumption.

If Oscar can disable Hazel’s semblance then he can finally stop the juggernaut.

In Dan’s theory video, he referenced the scene from V1 C6 where Pyrhha used some of her aura to unlock Jaune’s. Another lovely tie in since I don’t hear folks often talk about that scene.

Speaking of which, there’s something I’d like to point out about that particular moment. As Pyrhha unlocked Jaune’s aura, she recited something:

“…For it in passing that we achieve immortality, through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above us, infinite in distance and unbound by death. I release your soul and by my shoulder, protect thee...”

I made note of this in my RWBY Recap of Volume 1. In my notes, I asked myself if it was absolutely necessary for Pyrhha to recite this whenever using her aura to unlock another’s. Almost like a little spell or ritual incantation of some sort. I’m curious about this since it was never mentioned or brought up again. We haven’t even seen another character use this technique after Pyrhha.

I call attention to this quote because its words make me wonder something.

Pyrhha said ‘For it is in passing that we achieve immortality, through this we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above us, infinite in distance and unbound by death…’---why does this line somehow make me feel like Pyrhha is somehow still alive. Not physically but like…perhaps spiritually.

If Remnant is a world where super powered human beings, monsters, immortal beings and magic exist as part of the norm then surely supernatural beings such as ghosts and spirts are plausible things too, right? It shouldn’t be too farfetched if there are spirits who roam Remnant, right? 

I can’t shake this inkling of a feeling that after she died, because of her virtuous nature and her willingness to sacrifice herself for the sake of protecting her school and loved ones, that Pyrhha basically cheated death and returned as this sentinel spirit that now guards Beacon including the Vault of the Fall Maiden.

Ozpin mentioned back in V5 that he made things very difficult to find the Vault of the Fall Maiden. So my idea is that the Vault of the Fall Maiden is probably constructed like some kind of labyrinth with many hidden rooms and equally hidden traps and puzzles. 

I sincerely hope that Fall’s Vault is more fortified because what disappointed me about the Spring Maiden’s Vault was that it wasn’t as reinforced as I expected it to be.Another point is that Oz chose Pyrhha as a candidate to become the next Fall Maiden, right? Imagine how interesting it would be if Pyrhha’s Spirit went on to become some kind of Guardian of the Vault or Beacon Academy. 

I don’t care if her physical body got turned to ash. May Pyrhha’s spirit return as an eternal hero, still continuing to protect her school from beyond the freaking grave, dagnabbit? A squiggle meister can only dream.  

Anyways, back to talking about Oscar. Although I really do like Dan’s idea, I’m still standing by my own theory about Oscar having a mind semblance. While Dan’s theory connected to Oscar’s character influence, I based my idea more so on Oscar’s personality or…at least my interpretation of what little glimpses of it we saw last season.

As you guys know, V5 C5 was my all-time favourite episode of the last season purely for the scene between Oscar and Ruby. I love how Oscar was able to get Ruby to finally open up about how she truly felt regarding everything she’s been through since V3. Oscar has only known Ruby for a couple of weeks during that time and already he was able to do more for her than what any other character has done in just one scene.

Not to mention that he even attempted to do the same with Hazel by trying to reason with him during their fight.

That whole impression of connecting to others---understanding the way they think and feel and ultimately helping them come to their senses and thus assist them from within--- I figured these traits could be adapted into a strong mental semblance where Oscar is able to connect to other’s via their mind---seeing their memories, reading their thoughts and thus understanding them from an empathic point of view that wouldn’t require much physical effort. It’d be a supportive power as Dan mentioned in his video.

I based that purely on his current predicament being connected to Ozpin and forced to share a mind space with him while also considering Oscar’s inclination to want to reach out and understand others; be it ally or foe.

Not as fleshed out as Dan’s but…I really do like the idea of Oscar’s power having something to do with his mind. After all, the mind is a fragile thing and it represents the uncharted inner corridors of one’s very being.

Can you imagine a character having power over that especially if they’re a hero?

I also dig this concept because it also provides the threat of Oscar being able to possible control; manipulate someone’s thoughts and/or possibly destroying their mind. 

I just have this thought of Oscar letting his emotions get the better of him and becoming so furious that he uses his mental semblance to stop someone and the results leaves the person either brain dead, brain damaged or at least mentally unstable. 

For all the Young Justice fans in the FNDM community, remember how in Invasion, Miss Martian turned Aqualad into a vegetable after becoming angry and overdoing it with her telepathy powers on him? That’s how I figured it would be for Oscar.

We rarely talk about the dark implications a powerful semblance can have on a victim.

While Dan sees Oscar being like Eraserhead from My Hero Academia, I was more leaning towards a Professor Xavier from X-Men kind of power for Oscar. 

In a way, I think both can work really well cause they tie into Oscar as a character. As a matter of fact, I’d like to take both Dan’s idea and my own and combine the two together.

Theory Fusion Activate!

Oz mentioned that one’s semblance can grow and evolve, right?

So what if…Oscar’s semblance is Nullification. He unlocks the ability to disable one from using their semblance for a period of time depending on his aura levels. In the beginning, he’s only able to use this power by making physical contact with said person but in time, with more training, his ability evolves to the point where he’s able to nullify another' with his mind. While doing this places a bit of mental strain on Oscar’s part, the mental nullification proves more effective than the physical version.

Not sure how much this makes sense in the context of Ruby but it can work. It takes the best parts of both mine and Dan’s ideas and merge them to form something plausible for Oscar to have.  

My reasoning behind wanting Oscar to possess a mind or mental-based semblance is because at the moment, Emerald Sustrai is the only mental-based semblance user in the cast and she’s with the villains.

I wanted another mental-semblance user on the side of the heroes in order to counter Emerald.

Let’s say, Emerald is fighting Oscar and tries to use her illusions on him. But because Oscar’s power is Nullification, his semblance makes him completely immune to Emerald’s tactics so he’s able to negate her illusions. That’d be awesome.

Or even better, imagine Oscar’s Nullification growing to the point where he’s able to just activate his semblance by merely looking at his opponents. So anyone who dares step within close proximity of his line of vision gets their semblance rendered useless against Oscar. The only limit to that is at first Oscar is only able to nullify one person at a time but again, with more practice and training, he can grow till his range of ability could expand to more than one person depending on his mental strength.

To make sense of how Oscar is able to do that, let’s return to my theory of his semblance being mental or becoming mental-based in time so his Nullification evolves from requiring physical contact to just a stronger mental focus. So Oscar would need to become stronger mentally to help enhance his semblance which fits into his character. This could lend to Ren providing Oscar with some mentorship in meditation and focus.

The final form would be the sealing---permanently stopping a person from using their semblance for good. As Dan already mentioned, the series pointed out that aura can be used to unlock someone’s aura and training one’s aura is what leads to them eventually unlocking their semblance, correct?

So if semblance is awakened by aura and aura can be used to awaken aura. Then what would happen should someone learn to use aura to permanently disable someone’s aura so that they can’t use their semblance?

Aura is a term in RWBY that still eludes me a bit. Aura has been described as the manifestation of the soul. So…if someone were to seal off another’s aura…couldn’t that potentially kill a person if used incorrectly? Just asking. 

If Oscar does gain that kind of power in the end, then I’d imagine that it’d be a tactic Oscar would only resort to as last alternative because of the dangerous consequences of using it; not just on the victim but on Oscar himself.

Dan referred to Oscar’s sealing power being like Energy bending in Avatar the Last Airbender.

Wasn’t one of the drawbacks of energy bending that the user could be corrupted by the essence of the person who’s bending they were taking away? 

I can’t recall where it was said but I think I remember the lion turtle mentioning that to Aang when they first met. I…think? Correct me if I’m wrong here guys. 

But let’s say…Oscar does gain the whole sealing power as part of the final form in his Nullification Semblance. I only like the Sealing aspect of Oscar’s semblance as a last resort because I imagine a power like that could be very unsafe to use freehand.  The dangers of such a power are that one, this technique could run the risk of killing the victim since we are messing with aura---meaning one’s very soul, here. 

Not to mention that it places the user---Oscar at risk as well. Finally two, this technique would require a lot of aura on Oscar’s part or at least I’d imagine so. Like a lot especially to account for the victim resisting against the sealing process. 

After all, Pyrhha used some of her aura to awaken Jaune’s right?  So let’s say each time Oscar uses his semblance to nullify an opponent’s semblance, the effort to maintain this feat requires aura so the longer he maintains the nullification process, the more aura he drains from himself.

Somehow I’m visualizing Oscar’s nullification powers like chains that bind his enemies with an analog timer ticking down to how much longer Oscar can restrain his victim. A little exaggerated but you get the idea. 

So if sealing becomes a power for Oscar to have, it’s something that could help win a fight but can also potentially kill Oscar. I know it takes away the light-hearted ease of use of Dan’s original point but…this squiggle meister thinks a power like that would come with risks. After all, with great power comes great responsibility.  

But that’s just me. The more I think and elaborate on this, the more I’m really digging the concept of it. 

ThatKaitoDan is a genius for coming up with this theory for Oscar’s semblance. 

I doubt he’ll ever read my Tumblr post response to his theory but I would’ve loved to have heard his feedback on my add-ons to his theory. I’d love to hear his thoughts on my thoughts. 

He really is onto to something awesome and his idea for Oscar’s semblance is now one of my favourites apart from my own and the combination of our two theories. 

So if I had to pick which powers I can see Oscar having, it’s either a mental based power (like telepathy) or sealing or nullification---the grand combination of the two as I described in this post. That’s this squiggle meister’s thoughts on that. 

ThatKaitoDan’s Oscar’s Great and Power Semblance: RWBY Theory 

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2018) 

[askullinajar]

Fifty Shades Ghostlier

The sequel to Fifty Shades of Ectoplasm that literally no one asked for!

Yet again, the people of discord are all heathens and bad influences, namely @ironsilversaltandtea and @skull-in-a-jar this time.

Warning: Any accuracies, historically, scientifically, or to canon, are completely accidental. This is pure crack. No actual hanky-panky - as I am but a totally innocent asexual - but a whole lot of inappropriate jokes. You have been warned.

Fic info: Post teg. Rating: Mature, clearly. Pairings: Implied locklyle. Word count: 2284

Summary: Contrary to what canon might suggest, the main trio of Lockwood & Co are all teenagers and, like many teenagers, they can sometimes be rather immature. Especially when given a pack of condoms.

Fifty Shades Ghostlier

On that midsummer evening, Lockwood & Co sat in the cool kitchen of 35 Portland Row. Holly bustled around making homemade lemonade, while Lockwood, George and I sat around the table, acting, for once, like normal teenagers as we were currently in a competition over who could doodle the most phallic images on the thinking cloth. I was winning, though I was helped by my talent at drawing as well as the skull’s ghost at my shoulder making increasingly obscene suggestions.

Holly set a jug of lemonade on the table and looked over Lockwood’s shoulder at one especially graphic doodle featuring Rupert Graves and his rapier.

“Honestly! I’m going to have to wash this again now,” she scolded, her eyes sweeping the cloth and her lip curling. She frowned at the image I was drawing of Marissa and Ezekiel, as per Skully’s suggestion. “I did always wonder how she managed to conceive. I mean, there was no man ever mentioned, right?”

“Exactly!” said Skully, though she couldn’t hear him.

“Do ghosts have sperm?” George wondered allowed as I poured myself a glass of lemonade.

“What do you think ectoplasm is?” said Skully, right when I’d taken a sip. I started choking.

“Lucy?” said Lockwood, concerned, standing from his seat to round the table and pat me on the back as I continued spluttering. “What did he say?”

“Ectoplasm-” I continued choking. “-ghost-” More coughing. “-jizz,” I finished as Lockwood gave me one last hard pat on the back.

George snorted. “Wait… so the Red Room?”

I went back to choking.

“Didn’t those monks get executed for doing ‘unholy things’?” Lockwood asked, snickering.

George nodded. “I’m calling it now: Monk orgies.”

“Good thing you didn’t take a blacklight in there,” said Skully.

“You are all disgusting,” said Holly, though I could see she was trying hard not to laugh.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. I stood to go and answer, wiping my watering eyes as I went.

“Hey, Quill,” I said, upon seeing the man in question at the door.

“Listen,” he said, looking rather sheepish, “I need a favour.”

“What?” Holly asked, coming into the hall with George and Lockwood following behind. Quill didn’t seem pleased at us all being there.

“Promise you won’t make fun of me,” he said.

“Oh, Quill,” said George. “I can’t promise anything.”

Quill glared at him but sighed. “Look, I’m going away for the weekend with Kat and Bobby. Catching up and stuff. And, uhh…” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Look, I forgot I had these on me, and it’ll take too long to go home and drop them off, but I don’t want Bobby to find them… he’s so small and innocent…”

“Get to the point, Quill,” said Lockwood.

Quill shot him a glare, then he huffed and pulled something out of his pocket; a little box by the looks of it. He practically thrust it into my hands and then turned to leave. “Just hold on to them for me, okay. I’ll be back for them in a few days.” And with that, he practically jogged away and down the street.

I stared after him, then looked down at the box in my hands.

Fittes Condoms: For the Perfect Fitte!

Side effects may include: nausea, vomiting, unplanned ghost pregnancy, and death.

Warning: May contain ghost nuts.

Beneath the title, a picture of Penelope Fittes smiled up at us.

“I didn’t know they made condoms,” said Lockwood, matter-of-factly.

“Oh dear,” said Holly. “Do you thing Quill read the small print?”

George removed his glasses to wipe on his shirt. “Well, now we know what Marissa used with Ezekiel.”

I whacked him with the condom box.

Later that night, once Holly had gone home to spend time with her totally platonic roommate, I stood in the kitchen fixing myself a cup of tea, because even in the midst of a heatwave, it’s never a bad time for a cuppa.

“You know,” said Skully, who was hovering nearby, “you should pinch a few.”

“What?”

“Condoms,” he clarified. “Ya know, just in case you and Locky get all heated like you did last night. You’re not exactly quiet, you know. Good thing George is a deep sleeper…”

I flushed scarlet and lobbed a used teabag at him, but it just passed straight through and hit the wall with a wet slap.

“What?” said Skully. “I just want you to be safe, if all…”

I went back to stirring my tea, trying my best to ignore him, though I almost shattered the cup clanking the spoon harshly against the sides to try and drown him out.

“You’re lucky,” he continued. “We didn’t have them in my day. Teenage pregnancies abound. Though, most people died at twenty so that was probably a good thing… But, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And I hear you can get them ri-”

“Fine!” I interrupted. “You like them so much? Here.” I stormed over to the table where the box sat and ripped it open, tearing right through Penelope’s face and scattering little foil squares everywhere.

“Oi, what are you doing?” he said, as I opened a condom and grabbed the skull.

I ignored him, though he started up a gale and smashed my mug of tea. It didn’t really phase me; I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. So, with difficulty, as the condom seemed to be coated in lube, I tugged it over his stupid, mouldy skull.

“How’d you like that!” I said, dangling it in front of me, triumphant.

No reply.

“Skully?” I said, looking around, but his ghost was gone. I peered at the condom curiously and noticed the ectoplasm swirling within. “GEORGE!”

After a minute, George shuffled into the kitchen, toothbrush still stuffed in his mouth and froth spilling out. He grunted in what might have been a ‘what?’ and I shoved the slimy, skull-filled condom into his hand.

“Happy experimenting,” I told him.

“So, as it turns out, lubricant is far more effective on ghosts than iron or silver,” George informed Flo as he and I sat with her on a wall by the river eating sweets. I’d only joined because George owed me a bag of bonbons after he’d scoffed mine the other day while my back was turned. “In fact, lubricated condoms make very effective containers for Sources.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Flo, through a mouthful of liquorice. “Used ‘em to hold Sources for years.”

“What?” I said, almost swallowing a bonbon whole. “So you just carry around stuff in condoms all the time?”

Flo cackled. “Yeah. Really freaks out the relic-men.”

“We ought to experiment on more things like this,” said George, thoughtfully. “You know, there’s actually a high salt concentration in sem-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” I told him.

“I dunno about that stuff,” said Flo, “but I did find something in the mud the other day.”

She went about digging through her sack before pulling out a strange chunk of iron. I stared at it, puzzled for a moment, before realising what shape it was.

“Is that an iron dildo?” said George, bursting into laughter.

“A proper old-timey one,” said Flo. “Reckon this made some Victorian lady - or man - very happy.”

George took it from her.

“George!” I cried. “You can’t just touch it with your bare hands!”

“Why not?” said George. “The river’s probably washed away anything too bad.”

“Still,” I said, disgusted. “You don’t know where that’s been.”

“Or who it’s been in,” Flo added.

“Please stop.”

“Well, this should do nicely for my experiments, in any case,” said George. “We should try using this stuff in the field. Any clients with Type 1s?”

“I think there might be,” I said.

And that was how Lockwood, George and I ended up in a clients house, facing off against a weak Type 1, with a circle of lube in place of an iron chain, condoms rolled onto our rapiers, and a bucket of saltwater to fill condoms with to lob at the ghost.

“You were right George, this is actually quite effective,” said Lockwood, prodding the ghost with his condom-tipped rapier as I squirted bottles of lube at it.

George knelt by the bucket, dunking a condom in to fill it up, but when he pulled it out again, water began spurting out.

“Huh,” I said. “Looks like they’re more effective on ghosts than they are as actual condoms.”

“We’re probably doing Quill a favour by wasting them all,” Lockwood agreed.

George attempted to throw the filled-condom at the ghost anyway, but it sloshed harmlessly in a puddle on the floor.

“So much for that idea,” said George. “Plan B.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” I said as he attempted to tug a condom over his head.

“Hey, if you can get a skull in one, it can fit over my head,” said George.

Lockwood, who seemed to be having the time of his life, helped George tug the thing on, and, I had to agree, he did look hilarious with his face all smushed up inside the latex.

We stood back and let the researcher charge head-first at the ghost.

He made it about two steps before slipping on the circle of lube. As he fell, he grabbed my arm and tugged me down too, and I, in turn, grabbed Lockwood’s tie and dragged him with us. We landed with a thud, and skidded across the hardwood floor that had been drenched thoroughly in saltwater and lube, which, unsurprisingly, is a pretty good lubricant. We shrieked as we slid at breakneck speeds directly towards the ghost, until, at the last minute, I managed to tug the iron dildo from George’s coat pocket it and lob it at the ghost’s face.

We skidded right through the spot the ghost had just been, all the way to the other side of the room, and slammed into the wall before falling back in a tangled heap of slick bodies.

“Okay,” said Lockwood, “no more experimenting on cases. Anyone see where it went?”

“There!” I said, pointing at a floorboard that seemed slightly raised above the others. I shuffled, or more like slid, over to it and fumbled with it to pull it open. The ghost had reformed in the centre of the room now, and maybe it was the fact that we were all thoroughly drenched in ghost-repelling lube, but it didn’t come anywhere near us as I plucked the Source - an old ring - out from under the floorboards and handed it to George, who tucked it into an unused condom. The ghost vanished instantly.

“We should always use these things to contain Sources!” Lockwood said, cheerily. “They work so well!”

“I think I’ll stick to the regular stuff,” I said.

We got home a little past midnight, where Holly was waiting for us. She inhaled deeply as we entered, soaked head to toe in lube, her lips pursed as Skully cackled loudly behind her.

“I see you kids had fun!”

I ignored him and headed upstairs to take a much-needed shower.

The next morning, I came downstairs to the sound of Holly arguing loudly on the phone down in the basement.

“What’s happening?” I asked Lockwood as he poured us both some orange juice and put some crumpets in the toaster.

“I don’t think we’re getting paid,” he replied. “It seems our client wasn’t too happy about coming home to find lube and broken condoms all over his bedroom.”

“Can’t imagine why,” I said, sipping my orange juice.

Holly entered the kitchen, trying her best to retain her ladylike etiquette, though her face was flushed and her hair wild.

“I told you that was a bad idea!”

Lockwood shrugged. “We’ve got cases coming out of our ear nowadays. What’s one Type 1?”

“Unless he goes to the press about it!”

“Ah,” said Lockwood, “didn’t think of that.” Then he perked up. “We’ll go to the press first! ‘Condoms: Effective protection against more than just STDs!’ What do you think?”

Holly rubbed her temples like she was getting a migraine.

There was a knock on the door, and I heard George bustling through the hallway to answer it, but I stood to see who it was anyway.

“Have a nice weekend away, Quill?” George asked, jovially as Quill stood awkwardly in the doorway.

“Yes, yes,” he said, impatiently. “Now, come on. I’m going to need the box back.”

“Ah,” said Lockwood, “about that…”

Quill narrowed his eyes at him.

“We took the liberty of testing them,” said George. “They weren’t very effective. Kind of leaked.”

“Christ,” said Quill, eyes widening. “What did you do?”

“Calm down, we just filled them with saltwater,” I told him. “...And stuffed Sources in them… and rolled them onto our rapiers… and stuffed George’s head in one...”

“And we blew the last few up like balloons and chucked them around last night,” Lockwood added.

Quill pinched the bridge of his nose. “I suppose I should have expected the worst, leaving them with teenagers…”

“Better buy another brand next time you want to see your lady friend,” said Lockwood, grinning at him.

Quill turned a brilliant red. “There’s no… lady.”

“Ooh, a gentleman?” Holly gushed. “What’s he like?”

I put on my best innocent face. “Is he good in bed?”

“That’s it,” said Quill, turning around. “I’m done. Goodbye.”

“No, come back!” Lockwood called after him.

“Tell us about the guy you needed a twelve pack of condoms for!” George yelled, loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear as Quill all but sprinted away from us.

No matter. We’d see him again, soon enough. And then the merciless teasing would really begin.

[blankdblank]

Tempted to do another prompt request

Don’t know why, just curious if anyone wanted to request some prompts. Got a compilation of lists i’ve seen on here before I glance through randomly sometimes for ideas for my other rambles and series.

Mostly do 

Hobbit/LotR - Modern au/regular

Marvel - Mostly Loki w/ others thrown in

Celebs - Richard Armitage, Lee Pace w/ Hobbit cast thrown in, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Holland w/ various Marvel actors thrown in

You can add in scenarios or random items or locations if you like too.

It can also be y/n style if you want, otherwise i’ll probably use a variant of my usual oc to put it all together. :D

Prompt List

1 “Fancy seeing you here.” “I work here.”

2 “Can I buy you a drink?”

5 “If I go through with this, I die. If I don’t, we all die.”

6 “No, no, you do NOT want me navigating. I’ll accidentally navigate us off a cliff.”

7 “Is that blood?” “No?” “That’s not a question you’re supposed to answer with another question.”

8 “This is all your fault.” “I hope so.”

9 “I’d rather be pecked to death by a flock of hummingbirds.”

10 “You have no power over me.” “You sure about that?”

11 “Hold on, you died.” “Yeah, well it didn’t stick.”

12 “Excuse me! I was a superhero for ten whole minutes!” “And in that time you got kidnapped and we had to come to the rescue”

13 “I am way too sober for this.”

14 “You’re not as evil as people think you are.” “No. I’m much worse.”

15 “Why do you keep risking your life? To prove a point?” “Yes.”

16 “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

17 “This plan of yours is going to get us killed. Of course, I’m in.”

18 “Can you please go be stupid somewhere that’s away from me?”

19 “Stop that!” “Stop what?” “Doing that thing with your face when you’re happy. It’s making me nauseous.”

20 “You can’t just turn into a bat and fly away when you don’t want to deal with things!” “Watch me!”

21 “Wait, you’re a superhero?” “How do you not know? My face is literally on the news on a weekly basis.” “I’m in grad school. I won’t have time to follow popular media until I finish my thesis. You’re lucky I’ve carved out some non-existent free time to date you.”

22 “I’m just really tired of watching you get thrown off the tops of buildings”

23 “Whether you believe in me or not, I will continue to exist.”

24 “I don’t care where I sleep, as long as it’s with you.”

25 “You’re a psychopath.” “I prefer creative.”

26 “I thought you forgot about me.” “Never.”

27 “I want to go home.” “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening sweetheart. Time to accept that.”

29 “You really have no clue who I am?” “You’d think the confused looks and blank stare would have answered that for you.”

30 “Nope. I can’t go to hell. Satan still has a restraining order against me.”

31 “Well, what can I say? I’m a badass.” 

32 “Define normal.” 

33 “Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” 

34 “It’s amazing how fast the world can go from bad to total shit storm.” 

35 “And you wonder why you’re still single.” 

36 “Remind me to kill you. Please.” 

37 “I’m listening to you. I’m just not paying attention.” 

38 “Were you dropped on your head?” 

39 “She’s crazy. And just when you think you’ve reached the bottom of her craziness, there’s a crazy underground garage.” 

40 “She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind close doors she’s latex and whips.” 

41 “My middle finger salutes you.” 

42 “This is a whole new level of moronic, even for you.” 

43 “I don’t think I could ever stab someone. I mean, let’s be honest. I can barely get the straw in the Capri Sun.” 

44 “I don’t have enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel.” 

45 “Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops.” 

46 “Oh darling. Go buy a brain.” 

47 “Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.” 

48 “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” 

49 “All due respect, but that’s a bunch of crap.” 

50 “I am one of the few people in the world who can murder you and leave no forensic evidence behind.” 

51 “Excuse me. I have to go make a scene.” 

52 “What did I tell you about calling her/him the devil?” “That it’s offensive to the devil?” 

53 “I heard that!” “You were supposed to!” 

54 “I need therapy after this.” 

55 “I’m not weird. I am limited edition.” 

56 “I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.” 

57 “I think you’re weird.” “I think you’re boring.” 

58 “If history repeats itself, I am so getting a dinosaur.” 

59 “You seem somewhat familiar. Have I threatened you before?” 

60 “I’m afraid I’ve been thinking…” “A dangerous pastime.” 

61 “I’d explain it to you, but you’re brain would explode.” 

62 “Wow, there’s a big surprise. I think I’m going to have a heart attack and die from surprise.” 

63 “I’m gonna hit you so hard, it’ll make you ancestors dizzy.” 

64 “Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass!” 

65 “Sarcasm is the body’s natural reaction to stupidity.” 

66 “Well, excuse me, psychic wonder!” 

67 “The female of the species is more deadly than the male.” 

68 “Don’t look in her eyes, she might steal your soul.” 

69 “She’s hot, but she’s evil.” 

70 “Do I regret it? Yes. Would I do it again? Probably.” 

71 “I already know that I’m going to hell. At this point it’s really go big or go home.” 

72 “Go on, knock his teeth down his throat.” 

73 “What’s the point in screaming? No one’s listening anyway.” 

74 “I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.” 

75 “So stick that in your juice box and suck it.” 

76 “Never take life seriously. No one ever comes out alive anyway.” 

77 “This place hold a lot of memories for me. Some bad, some… No. No, no, all bad.” 

78 “A little gasoline… blowtorch… no problem.” 

79 “Good, bad, I’m the one with the gun.” 

80 “I know you can’t kill anybody, ‘cause I can’t kill anybody.” 

81 “You’re insane, but you might also be brilliant.” 

82 “What you call insanity, I call inspiration.” 

83 “Sometimes I question my sanity. Occasionally it replies.” 

84 “Why should we date?” “Because we are attracted to each other.” “I am attracted to pie, but I do not feel the need to date pie.” 

85 “Why does everyone assume the worst of me.” “It saves time.” 

86 “I like you. You’re different.” 

87 “You successfully cured him/her of anything interesting about his/her personality.” 

88 “You’re questioning my methods.” “I’m not questioning it, I’m saying it’s stupid.” 

89 “Wow, somebody needs a Happy Meal.” 

90 “I didn’t do it!” “Then why are you laughing?” “Because whoever did it is a freaking genius.” 

91 “Idiots. I’m surrounded by idiots.” 

92 “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.” 

93 “I care so little, I almost passed out.” 

94 “Well behaved woman rarely make history.” 

95 “You’re so weird.” “You have no idea.” 

96 “You haven’t even seen my bad side yet.” 

97 “Obviously you have mistaken me for somebody who gives a shit.” 

98 “How’s life treating you?” “Like I ran over it’s dog.” 

99 “Rule number one: don’t bother sucking up. I already hate you, that’s not going to change.” 

100 “Oh God, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we.” 

101 “I’m so glad you could come.” “Cut the crap. Give me a drink.” 

102 “You make no sense to me.” “Welcome to my life.” 

103 “Have fun being a big deal.” “I will.” 

104 “Damn, you’re strong for a little thing.” 

105 “It’s called thinking. Go with it.” 

106 “I made a new friend today.” “Real or imaginary?” “Imaginary.” 

107 “Where have you been all my life?” “Hiding from you.” 

108 “I’m getting real bored and impatient. I don’t do bored and impatient.” 

109 “The girl is strange no question.” 

110 “Do us a favor… I know it’s difficult for you… but please, stay here, and try no to do anything… stupid.” 

111 “I know most people don’t like me; I don’t care, I don’t like most people.” 

112 “You are a very strange person.” “Well, thanks for noticing.” 

113 “I can tell that you think what you’re saying is funny, but… no.”

114 “I didn’t steal it. I permanently borrowed it.” 

115 “I’m not shy. I’m just examining my prey.” 

116 “If you pull out my earphones, I will pull out your lungs.”

117 “I don’t dislike you, I nothing you.” 

118 “Are you crying? No, I’m impersonating a fountain.” 

120 “You’re kinda anti-social, you know that?” 

121 “I feel like a freakin’ soccer mom.” 

122 “I’m just gonna pack up and go straight to hell now.” 

123 “My ex? Yeah, I’d still hit that. Except this time it would be with a car or baseball bat.” 

124 “She’s complicated like the DaVinci code, you know but harder to crack.” 

125 “And just like everything else we do around here, it’s about to get weirder.” 

126 “Such big evil in such a little thing.” 

127 “Why do I still like you, knowing you’re a total asshole?” 

128 “What does not kill you will likely try again.” 

129 “Oh honey, I would but… I don’t want to.” 

130 “And hello to you too… little homewrecker.” 

131 “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead.” 

132 “I don’t need anger management. I need people to stop pissing me off.” 

133 “What doesn’t kill me might make me kill you.”

134 “In another life, I think I was in a mental institution.” 

135 “I’m not crazy. I’m just interesting.” 

136 “Don’t make me pop your ten grand sand bags honey.” 

137 “This is fun.” “Seriously, we’re trying to hide a body.”

138 “If you touch my food, I’ll have no choice but to hurt you.”

139 “I found this cat. It doesn’t matter how exactly I found it, but we’re keeping it.”

140 “When I was a child, I wanted to be a fire hydrant because I wanted to help people. Well, it was a real let down when my mother told me that being an inanimate object wasn’t a valid option.”

141 “There’s not a single day in my life when I haven’t been thoroughly humiliated and it’s too late to change now.”

142 “Unfortunately, my tears of joy and tears of sadness are not so easy to tell apart.”

143 “Sex dream? About you? Nah…it was about, uh, my uncle!”

144 “How did I break my leg? Well, it’s a long story.”

145 “The punch was out of love. For myself.”

146 “I can 100 percent fall down those stairs without getting hurt.”

147 “You act like I’ve never been lost in a foreign country before.”

148 “I always knew I’d be digging my own grave, I just never expected it would be digging a literal grave.”

149 “I did not eat the cookies. I’ve never even seen a cookie in my life.”

150 “Closets are my mortal enemy. And snakes.”

151 “I am wearing your clothes but not for the reason you think I am.”

152 “I’m trapped under the bed again.” “What do you mean ‘again’?”

153 “I shouldn’t have to tell you not to eat that.”

154 “I’m no longer permitted to enter the city zoo because I ‘allegedly’ don’t understand boundaries.”

155 “I didn’t eat your chocolate bar–Oh, I have chocolate on my face? In that case, it attacked me.”

156 “They told me not to take that selfie in the emergency room but now I have a great profile pic for Halloween!”

157 “I’m not saying I’d fight a child, I’m merely saying my legs are longer, my arms are stronger, and my brain is superior.”

158 “I’ve never been to Japan until today, but I have no idea how I got here.”

159 “We rock, paper, scissors-ed it and I played fire. I won in principle, but lost in morality.”

160 “Trains are fun until you’re fighting the conductor.”

161 “The first time I saw the ocean I cried, but that’s mostly because I was choking on seawater.”

162 “There is no sign in the library that says no birds so how was I to know.”

163 “The chokehold was out of love. Why can’t you see that?”

164 “I know the police.” “What? You know all the police?” “Well, it’s more like they know me.”

165 “I thought I could do parkour, nay, believed but my faith is weak and my body weaker.”

166 “I only got stuck in a baby swing once. The other two times I managed to get myself out before the fire department arrived.”

167 “Elbows and knees. That’s the fight club motto.” “No, it’s really not.”

168 “I don’t get lost. I take the long way.”

169 “There’s a snake in my boot. No, I’m serious. Why is there a snake in my boot?”

170 “My doctor told me chocolate syrup is not an actual beverage. The more you know, huh?”

171 “I don’t fall in love. I faceplant.”

172 “If you try to high five a police officer, they will taze you.”

173 “I can do the splits but not on purpose.”

174 “I am the ruler of pigeons now. I didn’t know I was even a candidate, but here we are.”

175 “To be fair, I’m surprised I didn’t break more fingers.”

176 “Who knew bear traps were that common?”

177 “I will run away with you.”  

178 “I am never coming back.”

179 “I forget time and space when I’m with you.”  

180 “I don’t belong in your universe.”  

181 “I’m dynamite ready to explode.”  

182 “I don’t know where you’ve gone. It’s like you aren’t here anymore.”  

183 “We are in this together – for better or for worse, do you hear me? I’m not giving up that easily.”  

184 “You don’t even have to hold me, and I still feel safe with you.”  

187 “Everything you think I need isn’t what I need. What I need is you.”  

188 “I always come back to you.”  

189 “You have to keep fighting.”  

191 “I’m begging you. Please.”

192 “I need you to let me all the way in.”  

193 “This was all just a game to you… wasn’t it?”  

194 “I will give you heaven and I will give you hell.”

195 “Please, be gentle with me. I’ll break if you aren’t careful enough.” 

196 “I promise I’ll be tender.” 

197 “I can assure you that you are safe here… with me.”

198 “It is my duty to take care of you, so stop forcing me away.”

199 “Never trust a man whose smile steals the breath right from your lungs.” 

200 “Take it – I don’t care. Take it all!”

201 “I’ll feel much better if you let me walk you home.”

202 “You make me feel things that I’m not supposed to feel. Why? Why do you have this control over me? You’ve taken over most of my thoughts. It’s infuriating.” 

203 “Would you look at that? Anger does fuel me.” 

204 “I don’t even remember the last time I got a decent amount of sleep. I’m hallucinating things, I can’t focus for more than five minutes… I’m going crazy.”

205 “You were always beside me.”

206 “What happened to us? To you? I miss it.” 

207 “There is no good in goodbye.”

208 “Say it again.” 

209 “You look happy. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the reason for it.” 

210 “Sometimes we get hurt and we just have to find a way to overcome it, and sometimes… sometimes it’s not enough to heal the wounds.” 

211 “You’ll understand. You have to.” 

212 “You lit a fire in my veins ever since the first time we held hands.” 

213 “Don’t stop.”

215 “I don’t care! I don’t!”

216 “There are times I can drink the pain away, but this time it’s become impossible.” 

217 “This pain… it’s still fresh. Give me time.” 

218 “Your memory will burn like a fire.”

219 “It just keeps spreading and spreading and spreading and I can’t stop it.” 

220 “I won’t ever forget you.” 

221 “I think I’m losing myself, and I don’t know if I can ever come back from this.” 

222 “I prefer being alone.”

223 “To see you smile, I would do anything.” 

224 “If you’re reading this then that means… that means I didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

225 “Fuck, I wish I could give you one more kiss, to feel your warmth, to see you smile… I miss you so much.” 

226 “Don’t go too far, alright? I wanna be able to catch up to you, just give me time.” 

227 “I’m sorry I couldn’t be there.”

228 “You stood up for me.” 

229 “You keep giving me excuses, what’s your problem?”

230 “Always be kind.” 

231 “You’re so warm.” 

232 “Oh my god! That was so not funny. These are fake tears, and that was sarcasm.” 

233 “Damn damn diggity damn.”

234 “Daddy.”

235 “Run me over with your car.” 

236 “Ew. Emotions.” 

237 “I’m sorry, was I supposed to laugh?” 

238 “Stab me. No, seriously. Stab me.” 

239 “That’s so stupid. Please, do it again.”

240 “But I’m not her.”

241 “I need you to see yourself as I do.” 

242 “Breathe.” 

243 “What are you running from? Why are you so scared?” 

244 “Let’s do something spontaneous!”

245 “I can still feel every little kiss you pressed to my cheek.” 

246 “I need to be closer to you.” 

247 “It’s feels like I’m suffocating.” 

248 “This will be the last time you lie to me.”

249 “You know it’s not like that.”

250 “How could you think this wouldn’t hurt me?”

251 “You’re never going to be the same after this.”

252 “I just think it’d be best if we never met.”

253 “I can’t believe you would even think to leave me like this.”

254 “You never loved me, did you?”

255 “It didn’t have to be like this, but now you’ve ruined everything.”

256 “I hope you’re happy.”

257 “If you had have kept your mouth shut, then he’d still- he’d still be here!”

258 “What did you want once this was all through? Tell me!”

259 “Now I have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Thanks, it means a lot.”

260 “You could’ve- could’ve stayed. You could’ve helped me fix things.”

261 “I knew she’d never change, she was too stubborn, too similar to me.”

262 “This isn’t going to be fixed. You’ve ruined this for good now.”

263 “I hope I’m not put in the same part of hell as you.”

264 “When did you think you could hurt me again? Today? Tomorrow?”

265 “You’re back in my life and I want to die again.”

266 “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”

267 “I hope you got what you wanted.”

268 “You made me miserable and I still loved you.”

269 “When you die, I’ll be the first to dance on your grave.”

270 “Don’t underestimate me, I have more power than you can even comprehend.”

271 “If only you knew what you’d brought upon yourself.”

272 “We’re never going to have a happy ending, just remember that.”

273 “Everytime something goes well, I momentarily forget how much I despise you.”

274 “Don’t pretend like you’re not happy to see me like this.”

275 “There is nothing worse than seeing you get what you want.”

276 “Your mind must be a horrible place.”

277 “You can cut me, bruise me and skin me alive, but you will not take her from me.”

278 “How is it that we always end up in this predicament?”

279 “I want to wipe that grin of your face with my sword, but my mother taught me to play nicely.”

280 “Did anyone ever tell you how pathetic you are? It’s incredible how low my standards are for you.”

281 “Ah, well if you want them back alive, I suggest you lay down your own life.”

282 “Don’t be ‘smart’. The battlefield is no place for Math Scholars.”

283 “You shouldn’t have come. You can’t be-”

284 “Stop talking or tomorrow won’t come.”

285 “Hand me the gun and I’ll kill him myself.”

286 “I shouldn’t care for your life, but I’m starting to and it’s becoming an inconvenience.”

287 “If you live to see her, please send my best regards and this box of her father’s ashes.”

288 “It would’ve been nice to get to know you better, but I’m afraid I don’t care.”

289 “I can’t help but think you’re a terrible person.”

290 “Seeing your face has unconventionally made me want to die. I wasn’t quite prepared for this feeling.”

291 “You could have loved me, I’m quite good at seducing, but you’re actually vile.”

292 “I hope I see you in a bodybag sometime.”

293 “Let’s pretend you didn’t cheat on me with my sister and be good people for a few minutes.”

294 “We should probably stop talking forever.”

295 “If I hated you anymore, I think I’d probably be crowned as satan’s right-hand man.”

296 “To say I ‘tolerate you’ is a vast overstatement.”

297 “You broke her heart and came back for more, you bastard.”

298 “This isn’t fifth grade, this is a courtroom, you whore.”

299 “I think you’d be the perfect match for my ex-husband. He loved to sleep with multiple people.”

300 “I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.”

301 “Time was always a measurement of this relationship and we finally ran out.”

302 “Please don’t look at me with such hatred.”

303 “I could’ve died and you couldn’t have cared less.”

304 “Just get out. I- I don’t want you hear, just leave.”

305 “You’re not the same person I married, don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

306 “I wish you wouldn’t beg for forgiveness, it has the opposite effect of what you want.”

307 “Don’t hate me for this. You would’ve done the same.”

308 “This could’ve been the end and you were ready to let me go.”

309 “You should’ve left me, you could never deserve the person I’ve become.”

310 “Hate me all you want. I know I’m right.”

311 “Today you broke my arm, I hope tomorrow it’s not my heart.”

312 “Nothing can justify this, you’ve ruined him.”

313 “You live with so much guilt, I hope it drives you mad one of these days.”

314 “My life was ruined because of one mistake. You were that mistake.”

315 “You are everything I hate, don’t ever come back.”

316 “Evil doesn’t come close.”

317 “Your wrongdoings are becoming your pastimes.”

318 “I wish you had of just done it for the thrill of it, but now you’re in deep shit.”

319 “Next time, I won’t be here to salvage your wreckage. This is the last time.”

320 “You should have ruined me when you had the chance.”

321 “No one will keep your name alive. Once you’re gone, everything you once stood for disappears too.”

322 “Don’t pretend you haven’t thought about your life without me.”

323 “This is always how it ends.”

324 “Break my heart once more, I dare you.”

325 “Forget how you loved me once, I mean nothing now.”

326 “This isn’t Romeo and Juliet, this is real life and I can go on without you.”

327 “You don’t own me, I don’t belong to you.”

328 “I should’ve died. That would’ve made you happy.”

329 “Are we going to carry on like this or are you going to give him back to me.”

330 “She drowned and he lost his mind.”

321 “We shouldn’t. You’re married and I’m pregnant.”

332 “You’ve never been loved, I can tell.”

333 “Who told you I needed fixing and what made you believe them?”

334 “You’re almost as far-gone as I am.”

335 “Maybe it’s best that we don’t go home.”

336 “Roaming the streets was never safe for her. What makes you think it’s different for you?”

337 “I think you’re going to ruin me. Am I right?”

338 “Do you remember our last feud? I wouldn’t want someone to lose their life again, would you?”

339 “Kiss me quick and leave them be.”

340 “I hate seeing you so sad. It’s just so dramatic how humans show emotions and being sad is such a boring one.”

341 “Will you ever forget my number? No? Ah, because you still love me.”

342 “After the funeral, let’s surrender.”

343 “What made you think I cared for you?”

344 “It’ll be fun explaining this to your sister. I hope she likes horror stories.”

345 “Don’t act as if we’re friends. I know how much you want to slit my throat.”

346 “Let’s not get angry. Let’s calmly and sensibly take this outside so I can ruin your face.”

347 “Please ruin yourself for me and I’ll watch in adoration as I fall apart as well.”

  Already requested – but still requestable

3 “Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off a bridge” “Can I pick?”

4 “You know what they say, panicking burns a shit-ton of calories.” “Who even says that?” “Me. Just now.”

28 “Sometimes, memories are the worst torture.”

119 “Ah, he’s playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.” 

185 “Be with me.”  

186 “I’m vulnerable around you, and it only gets worse when you smile.” 

190 “I’m surrendering myself to you; body and soul. What more do you want?”  

214 “Please, just… touch me.” 

348 “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I break his nose a little?”

349 “Show me your scars.” “But… why?” “I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there.”

350 “She’s my best friend. That hasn’t changed.” “It’s clear your feelings for her has.”

351 “Did you just… agree with me?” “Oh, I wish I could take-““Nope! You said it! No take-backs!”

352 “I think I’m having a feeling. How do I make it stop?”

353 “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be in the corner having another existential crisis.”

354 “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!” “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

355 “You don’t strike me as a professional criminal.” “That’s what makes me so good at it.”

356 “It’s a good thing you’re cute when you’re angry.”

357 “What are you afraid of?” “You.”

358 “I don’t give a damn.” “You give so many damns they’re visible from SPACE.”

359 “It’s a long story” “You conned me into thinking you were dead for eleven months. I have time.”

360 “Unless I screw this up again, I’m going to marry you.” “Well you better not mess this up”

361 “Hey, I didn’t kill anyone today!” “What do you want? A gold star.”

362 “I feel like I’m being stabbed.” “How do you even know what it feels like to be stabbed?”

363 “What now?” “I don’t know. I thought the jump would kill us.”

364 “I saved your life.” “You pushed me off a building.”

365 “How do we keep getting into these situations?” “Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.”

366 “We’re leaving.” “But they have a lobster tank in their basement.”

367 “Take my hand.” “Why?” “I’m trying to ask you to marry me, so take my damn hand!”

368 “You look…” “Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?”

369 “I’m fine.” “You don’t look fine.” “Then stop looking.”

370 “You gotta stop doing that.” “What?” “Saying things that make me wanna kiss you.”

371 “I think that you’re not as dark as you want people to believe.”

372 “I hate you.” “Why? I’m lovely.”

373 “Why are they afraid of you?”

374 “Literally everything about this is illegal.”

375 “You love her don’t you?” “Was it that obvious?”

376 “Why me?” “Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

377 “I was just kind of hoping that you’d, y’know…. fall in love with me.”

378 “It’s okay. You don’t have to love me.”

379 “You know, no one bothered me this much when I was dead.”

380 “Only a fool would fall in love with someone as deadly as me.”

381 “I’d know that smirk anywhere.”

382 “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” 

383 “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” 

384 “Don’t look for any redeeming qualities. I don’t have any.” 

385 “If my day gets any worse, I’m asking hell if they’re having an exchange program.” 

386 “If I survive, can I go home?” 

387 “That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” 

388 “You didn’t get in trouble for lying. You got in trouble for lying badly.” 

389 “You’re good. A monster pain in the ass… but you’re good.” 

390 “Neither one us is drunk enough for this conversation.” 

391 “The universe may not always play fair, but at least it’s got a hell of a sense of humor.” 

392 “My advice is much more subtle. Stop being an ass.”