#(this isn’t from the story’s main timeline)

[ghost-proofbaby]

everyone sleeping? perfect. time to put some secret soft scenes between aruna and astarion on the dashboard.

[bioswear]

The new nier reincarnation art for the new chapter looks and feels SO drakengard 3 tho - the use of the same blue and white contrasting palette in some of the locations of the cage is just like 👀👀 and it may just be the immense Drakengard 3 brainrot, but it feels a little intentional from a design standpoint

Like, this is the same color palette of Cathedral City as well as similar architecture

This palette reminds me of the Land of Forests - the harshness of contrast in values is also a very Drakengard 3 aspect

This color palette reminds me of the throne room in One’s Cathedral, and during our fight with One in Branch C.

Obviously this is just speculation and pointing out the visual familiarity of the concept art for the new chapter but like… makes you think 👀🤔

[sytoran]

𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐒 || mdg pt. 5

timelines and lifelines have torn you and natasha apart, but the two of you are bound by the child you have created. though subjected to earth, loki, god of mischief, dangles the possibility of a future with natasha by making you a god.

pairing: goddess!natasha x mortal!reader (not for long)

note: this is the 5th installment to the goddess!nat universe, as per the 4k celebration! please read the other parts first if you haven't already. this part contains depictions of violence. this series is 18+ only.

word count: 1.8k

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

Previously…

Your relationship with the Goddess of Lust, Natasha Romanoff, comes to a screeching halt. Torn apart by timelines and lifelines, you’re not coping well, and neither is Natasha — especially when she finds out she’s pregnant with your child.

On the other side of the universe, Loki, God of Mischief, breaks into your apartment to offer you a deal. Worse still, he eats your leftover pizza.

Now…

When you come back to consciousness, you feel like you’re floating. Not in the whimsical, psychedelic cocaine-induced way, but in the Help-I’m-Physically-Suspended-In-The-Air way. 

And it is true, much to your demise, because despite the fruitful hours of work spent in the gym, your arms and back can’t quite handle the excruciating pain of being strung taut like a rope.

Against the will of every screaming cell in your existence for you to fall the fuck back asleep, you forcefully sit up and open your eyes.

It takes about two seconds for the headache-worthy hangover to sink in, and three seconds for you to regret every godforsaken decision you had made the night prior.

Last night- oh, fuck. Last Friday night. 

(No, this isn’t going to entail a radio pop song with a curly black-haired Katy Perry, because the only curly black-haired one in this story is the God of Mischief himself. Both equally as sassy, but expounding on that would fracture the entirety of the space-time continuum.)

“Oh, you’re awake.” 

Speaking of the devil (quite literally), Loki forces you to bring your blurry gaze up to the cocky expression painting his angular face.

“Fuck you,” you spit, dry and hoarse, memories surging through your teetering consciousness. All you were aware of was the mother of your problems was the man himself.

Now, you were suspended like a puppet in your very own living room, strings of golden magic encircling your body, keeping you stretched to the edge of insurmountable agony.

“Funny,” Loki says dryly, eyes raking over your pathetic form. “That’s exactly what you said last night that put you in this position.”

You would’ve laughed, truly, if not for the ache in your ribs and your back and your– you get the point. “You offered me a proposition,” you comment, licking your cracked lips with distaste. 

“And you said ‘fuck you’ and threw up three bottles worth of alcohol on my ridiculously expensive snake-scaled shoes before promptly passing out from your hissy fit of a heartbreak.”

“Deserved.”

“I will hang you upside down.”

You roll your eyes – however much you can roll them in this position. “You gave me an offer. That means that I had a say in this, and I certainly did not consent to take part in this BDSM-worthy fantasy of yours.”

Loki scoffs at this, shifting in his seat. Your seat, actually, his black robes draped over your armchair like it belonged to him. 

“My sex life is none of your business, and more than often entails men,” Loki begins, putting a finger up. “The only reason I’m taking interest in a hopelessly lovesick woman-lover is because you have something that I want.”

You exhale roughly, lungs and ribs screaming in protest. You weren’t of a godly status by any means, but based on his identity and the fact that a God was lurking around Earth, you were competent enough to figure out what he wanted.

“You wanna get back to the land of the Gods,” you state, eyes narrowing in seriousness. “Like me, you’ve done some shit that made SHIELD put a target on your back. Except it’s ten times worse, considering you’re a God. That’s why you’re here. What you want is connections, because I have – I had – a relationship with Natasha Romanoff.”

Natasha.

It pains you, to even put it in the past tense, that what you had with Natasha would only ever be history.

“Oh wow,” Loki responds, acting shocked. “There’s actually more to you than this himbo attitude you exude.”

You don’t give him the pleasure of a response to his provoking, despite your incessant need to sucker-punch that face of his. But uncovering his plan has that layer of composure slipping, for a second, and you delight in it for what it’s worth.

"Put me down first," you say instead through gritted teeth, looking up with a ferocious glint in your eyes.

"Say yes first," Loki answers promptly, folding his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied grin.

"Put me down and or I won't consider your absurd request," you try again, a wracking cough making your stomach lurch in pain.

"Funny you think you're in a position of power," the arrogant god taunts. "Who's to say I won't torture you to the brink of death until I get what I want?"

"...Who's to say I'd eventually break?" you say finally, narrowing your gaze. You sure as hell were scared as fuck, but you had to survive. "Threats only work on people who've got something to lose. I'm forbidden from ever seeing the love of my life again – I've got nothing to lose, y'know? No amount of torture will get you what you want."

Your little speech of sorts, delivered with an unwavering tone despite the pain coursing through your body, plays out perfectly. Loki's gaze is unreadable as he contemplates upon your counter-proposition.

Unceremoniously, you're dropped to the ground, hitting reality with a grunt of pain. “Shit,” you wheeze, clutching at your ribs with sore wrists. “Warn a girl, man.”

Loki waves you off dismissively. “The pain won’t matter anymore.”

“Wait,” you struggle to say, reaching out to nothingness as the man closes his eyes and raises his hands to the lands you once roamed.

It’s only then that you realise you’re surrounded by candles, so many candles. You’re in the center of some kind of ritual board, and what you assume are ‘offerings’ circle you.

From skulls to black flames, you know something is wrong. Very wrong. Loki is muttering incantations under his breath, a language beyond your human tongue, and the pressure in your room rises to an extent that forces you downwards.

“What,” you ask, exhaling roughly against your cracked ribs. “What kind of God am I going to become?”

Your question goes unanswered, lost in the swirling black flames that surround you. Loki’s eyes open again, and this time they are completely black. He begins a chant, crafted from an inhuman tongue, a language you’d never heard before.

That’s when the pain starts.

You scream, brain waves throbbing, a loud ringing sound echoing in your ears. Psychedelia takes over your conscience, producing images all around you, dark and distorted and everything you thought you’d buried.

“ибяѓюгэю юдякиэҁ, эиѫч ҩ рэд.”

Unbridled darkness, enemy of peace.

Natasha’s face is at the forefront of your mind, unblemished and happy and everything you’d ever wanted. You reach out, spluttering and breathless, trying to grasp that wistful memory like it’d materialize in front of you, like she could ever be yours.

“бцэт юҩщи ҩцядрҩи дю ғдг ҩця ҩиэҁ.”

Put down your weapons and fall to your knees.

Her face gets shattered into smithereens, scattered throughout the dark swirls of your mind, overtaken by shadows. Horrifying screams and flashes of a graveyard overwhelm you, and you yell through the misery for the love of your life.

“тҩ фэн тнэ юэҁѓяэ ҩғ џэиəэдисэ lə'”

To quench the desires of vengeance and rage.

Fury slugs through you, as you crawl away from cold hands that pull you back. “No!” You yell, but your voice is not yours anymore. The only thing to describe what you feel is chaos, darkness creeping in from the shadows, a slithering worm into your ear, a rotting carcass and the stench of carrion.

“ҩҁэ бҩиэҁ сдҁт ҩғ ҁсчнэҁ дию бдюэҁ.”

To see bones cast of scythes and blades.

The world snaps from reality, and you get flung into a different dimension. This place you’re trapped in is unfamiliar. You’re standing on a pile of dead human bodies, and there are ghouls and demons cheering your name. Blackness seeps through your veins, infiltrating your mindwires. 

“Revenge,” you spit, a devilish noise, and the cheers rise again.

You scream, as black wings tear through your back, ripping your collared shirt and spreading towards the sky. You launch from the depths of whatever hellhole that may have been, an inhuman screech echoing around the void, soaring towards the heavens in search of the one you’d lost.

“ҩѫэҩя, гдск-щѓəэю юэџѓг, эт ндҁ иғцяг”

Come forth, black-winged devil, let chaos unfurl

Upon descending on holy ground, unfamiliar faces intrude into your mind, prominent and unmistaken. Backlogged information begs its worth — God of Thunder. Goddess of Magic. God of Science. God of Justice. 

Then one word rings above all, high and mighty, and the darkness of your mind clears to reveal the people that had taken your Natasha away.

SHIELD.

“энҩгю яҩѫ нэг, ҩю ҩғнэ Циюэящҩягю.”

Behold from hell, Ruler of the Underworld.

Reality drives into your side like a thousand semi-trucks, bright and flashing, and then you’re back in your living room. You stay on the ground, all-fours, spluttering and gasping for air. 

Natasha.

Black wings flap behind you, resplendent and marvelous. Those had been real.

Arising from the ground, gone is the fear in your eyes. No more shreds of hope. No more sense of justice. Your blackened eyes burn red, searching for Loki. He stands in the corner of the room, and he seems so much smaller now, compared to you and your bloodlust.

“She was mine,” you growl, dangerously, fearsome and inhuman.

“She is yours,” The God of Mischief answers, marveling at his creation, for there was nothing that could stop you now.

***

“Rockabye baby on the treetop,” Natasha sings softly, a hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. Colours sweep into galaxies as nightfall arrives, cloaking her land in gentle beauty.

“When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.” As if on cue, the wind gets a little chillier. Worry clouds Natasha’s face, edging in on her safe haven.

“When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.” A holographic image of The God of Justice materializes before her eyes. It meant that it was an urgent message, from one God to the next.

“The SHIELD base is being attacked by an unknown force. We’re in grave danger,” Steve says, urgent and frantic. Screams and chaos can be heard in the background, and the God barely ducks a crashing marble pillar.

Natasha almost scoffs and switches off the image. The Gods had ignored her very existence ever since they had banished you, which was convenient in hiding her pregnancy, but at the same time rather annoying, now that they were begging for help.

That is, until Steve persisted further. “Natasha. This perpetrator has power beyond measure, dark power. It could even exceed Loki’s.”

“......What does this harbinger of hell want?” Natasha asks, steely eyes surveying her homeland.

“Natasha,” Steve repeats, weary eyes hooded with anxiety. “They’re looking for you.”

Down will come baby, cradle and fall.

so that happened.... any thoughts about our new and improved y/n, ruler of the underworld?? loki rlly stirred up a lot of shit huh

reblog or no y/n x natasha reunion

series m.list | main m.list | AO3

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell. 

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours. 

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back. 

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself. 

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you. 

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself. 

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside. 

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you. 

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

[rebelspykatie]

Steve who accidentally wishes that he never went back to the Byers house to apologize that night, and has to live out a timeline where he’s not directly involved in the upside down happenings. Just an observer of the events from afar and how his removal from the main plot changes the entire trajectory of the story. 

How some of the kids get injured when he’s not there to protect them. How Robin never gets entangled in their mess, but she’s lonelier and has no one to rely on, quiet and mistrustful of people, especially popular kids like him. How quickly Jonathan and Nancy get together when he’s not begging Nancy to forget Barb and dragging her into a bullshit relationship. How he fades from the top of the high school hierarchy after Billy’s arrival anyways, disgusted by him and Tommy. 

It provides clarity in the worst possible way and he thinks it’ll never go back to the way it was, that he’s destined to remain a bystander when every time he tries to intervene fails. That is, until he ends up in the wrong place at the right time, running into the woods when he’s threatened by Hargrove, stumbling straight into Eddie’s hideout for dealing, looking like he saw a ghost when Eddie just raises one eyebrow skeptically. 

Even with that hint of hostility, Steve’s so relieved to have something so familiar that he just starts talking, trying to charm Eddie into being his friend again and it works. It’s the first touch of normal he’s had in this upside down version of his reality, and it’s the key that connects him back to the supernatural events. 

Their friendship leads him back to the kids when they join Hellfire. Robin eventually comes around once she sees Eddie visiting their job every day and learns Steve’s not who he used to be. Nancy catches them studying in the library together so they can both graduate on time and ends up sitting with them. 

At some point, Steve gets lost in the fantasy, lost in the years of friendship he’s developed with Eddie that starts to feel like home, the key to unraveling this mystery he’s found himself in, even if there’s this nagging voice in his head telling him it isn’t real. 

And of course, the magic eventually fades, the monsters under Hawkins come for them all the same, and when Steve makes the sacrifice play, this time it’s for all of them. But it’s also for everything he’s lost out on in this world, the moments he wasn’t there, all the times the people he loved were hurt and he couldn’t intervene because of his own stupid wish. 

He puts himself in danger because he finally understands that even if things were hard, even if they lost people in his reality, those moments bonded them and gave him a family, gave them all a family. Changing the circumstances doesn’t just magically make everything better, and in some ways, it has unintended consequences, even if he had the best intentions wishing all of it away. 

Even if he’s scarred for life and grasping to understand why him. They’re all an important piece of the puzzle, including Steve. So when he dies, looking into Eddie’s anguished eyes as he falls, and wakes up back in his world, a very similar and equally as panicked looking Eddie staring down at him, he doesn’t take that for granted.

He doesn’t have to go back to the beginning to make a change.

[signanothername]

I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf

I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO

Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch

Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox

Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au

Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)

Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced

So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch

But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill

Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)

But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)

What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going

But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN

He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch

he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics

One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?

Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333

If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3

[lincolndjarin]

Oh Honey. ✩ Chapter 5

chapter five : i'll decide where to go from here

series masterlist ao3 kofi main masterlist

a/n : happy last chapter of oh honey!!!! took a while to get out bc i was briefly on hiatus and then was in a slump (whoops) but here it is. this is another case of me writing an ending before the story so this has been the intended ending since i started and i hope you all like it as much as i do

pairing : monster!joel miller x mortician!reader

rating : 18+ mdni - explicit content, read all warnings

word count : 6.4k

summary : a look into the past and present of life in honey, west virginia

warnings, etc. : language, allusions to sex, angst & fluff, complicated relationships and people who are trying to handle them, an obscene amount of flashbacks, reader has hair and is carried by Joel, several timelines in no particular order.

“C’mere, bunny.” His stubble brushes against the back of your neck, his mouth is warm as you feel a kiss placed against your spine. 

“Mmm, what’s on the agenda for today?” You hum, pushing back against him a bit, the camper’s freezing in the winter, your heater broke a week ago and the parts Joel ordered to fix it won’t be in for a week. So you’re stuck with a little space heater you’d bought at the hardware store. 

“I was thinkin’ we’d just do this for a while.” His arms tighten around your waist and stomach with a sigh. “We could just stay in today, order food, watch a movie on your laptop.” He yawns before nestling close against you. 

“It’s too cold to stay here, it’s supposed to snow all weekend, it’s only gonna get worse. Maria even closed the home early yesterday” You groan, rolling over in his arms to press your face into his neck. The tips of your nose and ears are freezing, the two of you are under all the blankets you own, bundled up, when you peer out the window you can see the snow falling and settling on the trees. 

Joel mumbles into your hair, deeply inhaling. “Why don’t you pack a bag and we can head back to the house then. You can stay until Monday and can fix the heat while you’re at work.” 

“I hate staying at your place, all of my shit is here.” You spend most weekends at Joel’s, it’s easiest that way, but packing up all of your things and bringing them back and forth is getting tiring. 

“Just bring it with you.” 

“I think you underestimate how much stuff I need for four days.” You’re already giving yourself a headache trying to make a mental list of everything you’ll need. 

“Why don’t you just move in.” He mumbles with another yawn. “It would make it easier for both of us if all your stuff was there.” It isn’t until he realizes that you’re frozen in place that he opens his eyes. “Or not, just a thought.” 

You stammer an excuse, hoping to alleviate the tension that’s suddenly lingering between you. “I just- I don’t know if we’re there yet.”

“I didn’t mean to rush you, just thought I’d offer.” He shrugs before pulling you close again.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper into his chest.

“Don’t be. You’re right, it’s too soon for that.” 

You’ve been together for a year now, you almost never sleep apart, if anything you should have moved in six months ago. 

What’s stopping you? 

You’ve been distancing yourself from any concrete commitments for sometime now and even if he never says it you know it bothers him. When do you stop punishing him for something you claim you’ve forgiven him for? He doesn’t hurt people as often anymore, at least he’s trying harder not to. But it’s getting hard for the both of you to keep up this system of locking yourselves in his room for a week every month. 

Sometimes your cycle syncs with Maria and Sarah has to drive in from out of town to watch Ellie, it’s just generally become harder to manage. 

But you can’t leave him when he’s like that. 

On the rare occasion that you’re too exhausted to stay awake and entertain him he’ll end up in the woods and a massacred corpse ends up on your table when you return to work. 

Everytime you think you’ve found forgiveness and acceptance you’re reminded of the fact that you love a monster. A selfish choice that you make every day. And everytime you tell him you can’t live with the guilt he gives you the same option. 

Kill him. 

You’re sure he doesn’t mean to make it sound so grim, each of you have complicated relationships with death. You just don’t think you’ll be able to live without him, and it’s not like he expects you to kill him yourself, he always tells you he’ll handle it with Tommy but you always shoot the idea down and you’re back to square one. 

“I just need a little more time, I promise this isn’t forever.” You mumble as you sit up.

“I’d do anything for you, anything at all. Just tell me what to do.” 

You don’t doubt that. But he still doesn’t give you what you actually want, all you ask of him is options that don’t involve him, or any more innocent people, on your cadaver cart.

The bed is empty when you wake up. 

You knew it would be when you went to bed alone last night but a part of you, after all this time, still feels incomplete when the sheets beside you are cold. The creaking under the floorboards is the only noise in the house. 

Your alarm clock reads 6:58 a.m. and you know it’s only a matter of minutes before you need to be up so you throw the blankets aside, stretch your arms above your head, and stand. Right on cue you hear the familiar stomping down the hall before your door swings open, Ellie rubs her eyes before scurrying over to you. Her hair’s in disarray, having fallen out of the braid you put it in last night, you scoop her up into your arms, trying to smooth the mess down. 

“Good morning, little monster.” You mumble, kissing her cheek before carrying her down the hall and into the kitchen. You can’t help but wonder how much longer she’ll be small enough to hold like this. She’s already almost too heavy for you to lift for this long, and the living room and kitchen are still decorated with banners and deflating balloons from her sixth birthday party yesterday. 

Kids birthdays, elementary school, home owning? 

Even after a couple years it’s still a little dizzying that this is your life now. You set her down at the table, retrieving the generic sugary cereal you’ve grown fond of from the cabinet along with bowls, spoons, and milk, setting them down on the table in front of her. 

“Can I feed the sheep before we go?” She says before reaching for her spoon, you nod.

“If you brush your teeth without giving me a hard time.” You fill your bowls, you have to remind her to slow down a few times as she shovels cereal into her mouth, eager to go out to the barn. You’re only halfway through your bowl when she runs off in the direction of her room.   

You hear the telltale sounds of her pushing her step stool across the tile of the bathroom as she rummages through the cabinet. As you finish up your own food and tidy up you make a mental list of everything you need to do today. 

Get Ellie ready for school. 

Tend to the sheep. 

Drive Ellie to school. 

You take your phone out of your sweatpants pocket, 7:16, and text Maria to make sure they’re still good to take her this weekend. Ellie hums as she brushes her teeth when you peer into the bathroom before making your way into your own room, changing quickly, you’ve got about an hour before you need to leave. 

Drive Ellie to daycare. 

Grocery shopping. 

Oil change. 

Making lists helps. You like knowing what you’re going to do and when you’re going to do it, you’ve had enough surprises in your life, you don’t like when the routine changes. Without your routine you’d lose yourself entirely. Ellie helps, she likes structure as much as you do, you stand behind her in the bathroom now watching her finish up and making sure she did a good job. The sparkling stone on the counter catches your eye, a reminder that you’re constantly forgetting your ring. It’s a bit much for your taste but it’s a family heirloom and Joel insisted. Sliding it onto your finger as Ellie hands it to you.

Check on Ellie.

Clean the house. 

Make dinner. 

Before she can run back to her room you gently pull her back by the collar of her shirt, grabbing a hair tie off the counter you tie her hair in a ponytail before letting her go get dressed. By the time she’s ready you’ve got your jacket on, holding Ellie’s coat out for her to stick her arms through the sleeves. She already has a toothy grin plastered on her face as you both step out of the sliding doors leading to the backyard. You take her hand, knowing she’ll run ahead if given the chance, you know better than to let her out of her sight.

Dangerous things live in the woods of Honey. 

She’s pulling you along through the short path between the trees leading to the barn with a fence surrounding it. Once you’re in the clearing you let her run ahead, once you’re able to see everything around you. The air is icy and damp as you follow after her, opening the gate as she slips under the fence. The sun is just starting to break through the trees, it’s still too cold for the sheep to be out, there isn’t much exposed grass for them to eat anyway. You’ve been keeping them in the barn most days unless it warms up, today isn’t one of those days. With a high pitched giggle Ellie rushes inside, you hear the familiar sounds of bleating as she greets all of them by name. 

You watch in momentary silence as you make your own way into the barn, enjoying her little smile that warms up the freezing barn. 

“Did you turn in your project yesterday?” You sit on a hay bale, watching her run amongst the sheep before turning to you, nose red from the chill. You hadn’t gotten to ask her about it since you’d been so busy with her party, it wasn’t really a “project.” Just a little assignment for the kids in her class, to draw something important to them. 

Of course Ellie had wanted to draw her father, something you were happy to help with until she held the crayon in her fist and began to draw the sharp angles and pointed claws that you realized she couldn’t show it off to her class. You let her finish the drawing. It’s remarkable really, how someone so small and vulnerable can portray such a frightening creature without fear. 

She loves him, that’s why. 

You love him too but that doesn’t mean he didn’t terrify you. No amount of strange magical connection was going to change the fact that he scared you. The difference of course is that Ellie doesn’t know what he’s done. You had encouraged her to draw a background, concealing the mass of flesh and teeth in darkness and trees until only the two of you knew what hid behind the blue and green. Together you decided that it was a drawing of her favorite place. The national forest on the edge of town. 

“Good, Riley guessed what it was though.” She says as she pats one of the lambs gently on the back. 

“She guessed it was the Manangahela National Forest?” You give her a skeptical smile as she fills a bucket with feed before emptying it into the trough. 

“Monongahela.” She corrects you proudly. 

After all this time, you still never get it right. 

“Smart ass.” You grumble under your breath as she carefully lifts the hose, filling the water buckets. 

“Ass.” She says with a grin. 

“Don’t say that.” You point at her sternly, stifling a laugh. 

With a small huff she turns the hose off and rushes over to sit beside you and watch them. 

“She said the forest was my favorite so it was easy.” She mumbles, briefly captivated by the sheep. 

“She’s a good friend for knowing that.” You like Riley, you’ve watched the two girls play together several times before, she’s a good influence on Ellie as far as you can tell. 

“Mhmm.” She hums, the silence returning between the two of you as you both watch the sheep.

You don’t tell her that you’re going to butcher one of them tonight. 

You know that she can handle it. At this point in her life she can handle much more than any other six year old you’ve ever met but you just aren’t ready for that sort of thing yet. You haven’t been a parent long enough to know the proper way to go about that sort of thing. 

“Time for school, kiddo.” You stand up abruptly and take her hand again, watching as she yells back to the sheep, saying goodbye to each and everyone of them. 

The truck sits idly in the driveway but you ignore it, opening the door of your own car, Ellie throws her backpack in before climbing in herself. It was the first thing you’d bought with Darlene’s money. (The second thing you did was help Sarah with her student loans and put aside some for Ellie.) You hated driving the truck, it was too big and too loud, this just felt safer for driving Ellie around. Once she’s buckled into her seat you make your way over to the driver's side. The radio plays some rock song that immediately has her squealing in the backseat, with a grin you turn it up as you pull out of the driveway. 

“Is she my mom now?” 

You had been walking past Ellie’s room after your shower, wearing one of Joel’s flannels with the towel wrapped around your hair when her voice froze you in place, her bedroom door cracked open. 

“That’s not exactly how that works, kiddo.” His voice has a nervous lilt to it you don’t often hear from him. 

“Then why is she always here?” She sits up a bit and you hold your breath as Joel’s brow furrows. 

“Is that a problem?” God you hope not. 

“No, I like her.” The tension in his face relaxes with your own. 

“I’m glad you do. I like her too.” 

“So when will she become my mom?” Her persistence on the issue makes you feel as awkward as he currently looks. 

“She’ll become your mom if she wants that. But that probably won’t happen until we’re married, and I don’t know if she wants that yet either.” There’s a beat of silence, you’re heart skipping a beat at the earnestness of the conversation. The silence is quickly interrupted by the little one screaming your name as you rush back to the bathroom, opening and shutting the door to try and make it seem like you hadn’t been listening. 

“Yes, little monster?” You make a real show of stepping loudly down the hall as you push the door open. You’re greeted by the sight of Ellie trying to wriggle out of a rather flustered Joel’s arms, face red and flushed as he tries to shove her under her blankets. 

“She’s just messin’ around.” He grumbles before throwing a pillow at the giggling mess. 

Her voice calling your name from the backseat snaps you out of your thoughts. 

“What’s up?” You turn the music down as you glance at her in the rearview mirror. 

“Can Riley come over today after school if her mom says it’s okay?” 

“You’re going to Uncle Tommy’s tonight, love. I’ll text her mom and see if she’s okay with picking her up from there if he gets you guys after school. Does that sound okay?” She nods happily when you look in the mirror before going back to singing along with the radio. When you pull up to the parent drop off you get out of the car to unbuckle her, kneeling down in front of her as she pulls her backpack straps over shoulders. 

“Can we have a birthday party with Dad when he gets back?” She tilts her head to the side as she asks, you lean forward and kiss her on the cheek before pulling her into a hug. 

“Absolutely we can.” You give her a soft smile before her attention is diverted towards a group of her friends. “Be good today, I love you.” 

“Love you, bye!” She leans in to give you a kiss on your own cheek before rushing off, you watch her go, waiting until she’s in the building before getting back in the car. You send a quick text to Riley’s mom and Maria, scheduling plans for the girls before putting the car in drive as you head off towards a neighboring town. Honey has a grocery store but on days like this where you have so much free time you like to go to the nicer ones out of town. 

You turn the radio off now that it’s just you, cranking the heat to keep warm as you drive in silence. 

“We should get married.” You had brought the idea up, much to his surprise. About a year ago, as you were setting up for Ellie’s fifth birthday party, a year after you’d finally moved in. 

“Are you serious?” He had been laying on his back, under the camper, working on the more technical aspects of the project. In his shock he’d rolled himself back out to stare at you. 

Why wouldn’t you be? Sure, it took a lot of effort on his part but you finally feel like you’ve stopped holding everything against him. You had hoped that he knew that by now. 

“Why not? Everyone already thinks we are, everyone at Ellie’s school calls her my daughter, Tommy’s been teasing me about it for ages-” He pulls himself to his feet, quickly putting his hands on your shoulders. 

“Bunny, slow down.” He’s getting flustered, you swear his drawl is thicker when he gets like this.

“You’re the one who always says I take things too slow.” You frown, turning back to the flowers you’d been planting in the boxes under the window but he turns you back around to face him.

“You mean it?” His voice is a whisper and you quickly realize how much this means to him.

“Of course, I mean, we’re going to spend our lives together anyway, why wait.” You give him a reassuring smile as you tilt your head to kiss his cheek, briefly letting yourself indulge in the taste of his skin before pulling back. “As much as I’d love to talk about this more, we should get back to work if we want to finish this before she’s home.” 

He doesn’t say anything else about it as he goes back to running the electrical under the camper and you can’t help but wonder if you crossed a line. Thankfully you’re on a time crunch to finish this and your mind is kept busy. 

The two of you work in silence, almost synchronized as you move from task to task. He brings the cinder blocks out and lines the camper, creating a semi-permanent foundation as you string fairy lights along the outside and finish up planting flowers around the entire thing. Joel attaches the small porch he and Tommy made a few weeks ago that you had painted as you step inside. It’s unrecognizable after all the work the two of you put into it. The ceiling now painted a dark blue, glow in the dark paint dotted along the entire thing, when the sun goes down she’ll be able to see the stars from inside the camper. You painted the walls and changed out the curtains and sheets more to Ellie’s tastes. She’d always loved it here, when Joel was actually busy with work trips she’d stay with you in the camper. Even nowadays with you living with her and Joel she still often asks if she can play in the camper. 

Just as you’re finishing up Joel steps inside as well, testing all of the faucets while wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. 

“Think she’ll like it?” You ask, your fingers nervously twitch as you roll the hem of your shirt between them, he laughs as he leans back against the counter. 

“She’s gonna love it, s’better than any gift I’ve ever gotten her.” You can’t help but smile as he holds his arms out towards you, you quickly step into them, leaning against his chest and taking a deep breath. 

You open your mouth to speak, wanting to address your proposition from earlier quickly so it doesn’t hang in the air for too long but you hear the familiar rumble of Tommy’s truck pulling into the driveway and the two of you quickly rush out of the camper and down the steps. You straighten the bow on the door and quickly lock it. You hear Ellie’s laughter as she runs around the side of the house, Tommy and Maria walking up behind her. 

She’s excited to see both of you, a paper crown announcing her birthday adorns her head as she runs up to hug her father. The second she sees the camper though she darts right past him. 

“Why’s this here?” She yells excitedly, she knows exactly why it’s here instead of sitting stagnant on the piece of property you sold just a few days ago. You smile at Joel, nodding towards her as he leans down to pick her up. 

“She got you a little birthday present, since you’ve been so nice to her and let her come live with us.” He points at you as she immediately starts squirming out of his grasp, tossing her backpack aside as she runs up the little porch steps. She turns around to look at you with a huge smile on her face.

“Are you fucking serious?” She screams. You can’t help it as a laugh slips out of you, thankfully Tommy can’t hold it together either as Joel immediately breaks into a lecture you nudge his shoulder as you hand her the key.

“It’s her birthday, she’s allowed to say it on her birthday.” You murmur through your continued laughter. She wraps her arms around your legs, hugging you tightly before turning around and unlocking the door. “Happy birthday, Ellie.” 

She had loved her party, thankfully. And she loved her new playhouse much to your relief. 

You and Joel laid on opposite sides of her as her little snores filled the camper, she had wanted a campout as a birthday treat and you were both more than willing to oblige. You’re staring up at the faintly glowing stars painted on the ceiling when he sets the box down next to you. You grab it, wanting to ask him more but not wanting to wake Ellie up you open it. 

And you’re met with a ridiculously gorgeous ring. 

Clearly an heirloom but he’s recently had it polished, one large diamond framed by two smaller ones on either side of it. Your eyes are wide as you stare down at it, shimmering in the moon light before sharply turning your head to the man with a dopey smile lying across from you.

“Been carrying that around for a while now, if I’d known you were ready I would’a asked sooner.” His voice is low as Ellie stirs a bit and you both freeze as she rolls over closer to her father. 

Neither one of you speaks again, but the look on your face as you put the ring on was answer enough. 

The beeping brings you back to reality as you scan every item in the self checkout lane. 

You’re only feeding yourself while Ellie’s with Maria and Tommy, so you keep it simple. Another box of cereal, milk, an apple, a loaf of bread and deli meats. You’re pretty sure you have enough cheese and other essentials to get you through the rest of the weekend. On your way up to the checkout counter you grab a bag of dark roast coffee beans and a box of tampons. 

You’re out of both. 

You know you live in memories too often, especially without Joel to keep you in reality. You find him in the past when he isn’t beside you because something needs to fill the aching void that yearns for his smell, his taste, and his touch. And echoes of Joel are almost as good as the real thing. There’s a funny comfort you find in memories. Even unhappy ones. There’s no surprises in memories, you know what’s going to happen and you know you survived it.

Even the bad memories bring you comfort when he isn’t around to do it himself. 

You pay quickly, loading everything into the cooler in the car as you head off in the direction of your mechanic. When you park you’re told it’ll take about fifteen minutes, nodding as you sit in the waiting room, where your mind inevitably wanders to one of the worst memories in the hours following your meeting in the Applebees that has since closed. 

You didn’t pay attention to the road. 

Instead you stared at your hands in your lap as he drove, not bothering with the radio, the two of you stewing in your silence as he pulled into the driveway. You didn’t even unbuckle your seatbelt, he had come around the truck and done that for you, pulling you into his arms and carrying you bridal style up the porch steps and into the house, only stopping to kick the door shut before bringing you to his room, clicking on the lamp he hadn’t bothered to remove, and setting you on the mattress. 

He lays down beside you, taking your face in his hands but you immediately recoil, pushing him away. 

“What do I have to do to earn your forgiveness? To show you I’m sorry? Cause I don’t see a point to any of this if it’s never going to happen, it’ll be better for both of us if we know where we stand.” He’s right, unfortunately. Neither one of you deserves to waste the other's time if this is going to mean nothing. 

If you can’t forgive him.

“Can you at least let me love you? Do you think you can manage that?” His voice is dangerously close to cracking and you have to pray that he doesn’t break. If he can’t hold it together you know you won’t be able to either. “Neither one of us wants to deal with this but we don’t have a choice.” 

“I don’t know.” You mumble, you really don’t know so why answer with anything else? 

“I don’t even need a concrete answer, bunny. I just need to know if someday you’re going to be able to forgive me. I can’t live a life where you keep me at arms length.” 

You hadn’t responded. Just slid closer to him. 

And you let him hold you until you fell asleep, hoping that would be enough. 

Your phone buzzing is what snaps you out of your empty thoughts this time. When you open the notification you’re met with a message from Maria, a photo of Tommy sleeping in the recliner, Ellie sitting in his lap, and Riley sitting on the arm of the chair, watching whatever movie they put on the T.V. 

[ Made it back from school. Watching Treasure Planet. ] 

[ love it ] [ thanks again for taking them ] 

The mechanic returns shortly after, handing you your keys and telling you you’re good to go. The hour drive back isn’t terrible, you opt to listen to music on the way back. It’s quiet when you return home. Putting away the groceries and making yourself a sandwich as you look around the cluttering remnants of the party yesterday, the only sounds are your chewing and the soft creaking and scratching from under the floorboards.

Joel has so much pride for your home. He would hate it if he knew how dirty it was currently, the thought alone has you reaching for an empty trash bag once you’re finished eating. 

You turn all the lights on as the sun starts to set, how much time did you spend daydreaming today? You try not to think too hard about it as you start cleaning up the plastic cups and paper plates that litter every surface of the living room, popping deflating balloons and sweeping up discarded streamers and confetti. There’s a feeling of solace that comes with cleaning the house, making it feel like home once more. 

This isn’t just Joel’s house now, it’s yours as well, even if you thought this would never be the case. 

“I know that you shot down the idea last time but I want to show you something.”

“Joel, I just don’t think…” Your voice trails off as you stare at the key ring he’s holding out towards you. If you can’t guarantee that he won’t hurt people you can’t share a home with him, it’s stupid and it makes you feel childish but you can’t come home to him knowing people are still dying, even if you can’t stay away from him. 

“Just give me a chance to show you.” He puts the keys back into his pocket before taking your hand. Walking you down the hall towards his room, he stops briefly to check in on Ellie, still tucked into her own bed as you peer into her room before he closes her door quietly. “I don’t want you to think that a life with me is going to be only horrors, and I know that a part of you has already resigned yourself to such a thing but you don’t deserve that.” You’re about to interrupt him, tell him that’s not true despite the ache in your chest that tells you he’s right but he’s opening his own bedroom door and you’re too busy staring slack jawed inside. 

It’s unrecognizable from the monster cage he’d created for himself. 

Instead of resting bare and on the floor, the mattress has sheets and now rests on a low to the ground metal frame. The photos that were once taped to the wall are now in frames or pinned to a bulletin board he hung up. 

He put a rug down that covers any claw marks on the floor and he’s done his best to hang up photos and paintings over the scratches on the walls. There’s even furniture now, a nightstand on either side of the bed with a matching dresser, lamps scattered around the room make the space feel warm and lived in. 

“You- you did all this?”

“If you live with me I don’t want you to have to sleep in some sort of creepy homemade dungeon, you deserve an actual bedroom.” He whispers as you look at the paintings on the wall, all of them are Alice in Wonderland themed. “I borrowed those from Sarah’s room, we can change them out when- if you move in.” He quickly mumbles as you look up at a painting of Alice staring into a lake, her own image being reflected back up at her. 

“It’s lovely, it’s perfect Joel.” You turn back to him as he rubs the back of his neck bashfully. 

“This ain’t it, there's a few more surprises for you.” The shocked look remains on your face as he takes your hand once more, bringing you back into the kitchen and out the sliding glass door. 

You had run outside without shoes on and took down the banner hanging on the camper before rushing back in and tossing it in the trash bag. When you look at the clock it’s just a couple minutes from 7:00 p.m. You bring the bag out to the porch before washing your hands. 

You don’t bother taking a shower as you change into your pajamas, setting your ring on your nightstand, not wanting to risk damaging it as you pull up a pair of sweats you don’t care about being ruined and an old shirt you wore when you painted the bathroom a month ago. Grabbing the apple off the counter you shove it into your sweatpants pocket. Shooting Maria one last text and turning your phone on do not disturb, you tell her to say goodnight to Ellie for you before slipping your sneakers on and heading out the back door once more. 

You don’t like going to the barn alone, and you should have put on a proper jacket, without the sun to warm you, your skin prickles with goosebumps. The dark doesn’t frighten you very much anymore, and it’s easy to follow the familiar path even in the dark. Your phone flashlight illuminates the ground in front of you as you walk, you’re trying to remember if there is a specific sheep Ellie isn’t attached to.

Most of the flock is sleeping save for a few stragglers, you decide not to overthink it, grabbing a lead and putting it over the head of the first sheep that’s brave enough to greet you. The unlucky winner is one of the older sheep, making its way over to you the second you open the gate. You reward her bravery with the apple in your pocket, the only sounds in the quiet night are those of chewing as you walk her back towards the house. 

You swung your intertwined hands between the two of you as you walked through the trees behind his house. He must have worked startlingly fast to do that for you, no ones ever put in that sort of effort for you before. 

The sun is just starting to set behind you as he takes a step back and covers your eyes.

“Hey-” You start to object with a giggle as he continues walking you forward. 

“Oh hush, let this be a surprise.” He chuckles as he leads you further down the path before stopping abruptly and lifting his hands. “Surprise.” He whispers, taking a step back.

“Woah.” You exhale in shock as you stare at the barn in front of you. A white fence surrounding it. 

It’s beautiful. 

“Tommy and I grew up on a farm, we can raise whatever you want, pigs, sheep, chickens, anything you want.” He mumbles as he wraps his arms around you from behind, kissing your cheek. 

“I love that idea, but can I ask why?” You let out a nervous laugh as you turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“That’s actually a part of your last surprise.” 

“Another?” Your voice pitches up, he built you a fucking barn, what else could he have done for you?

“I want you to know how serious I am about you moving in, I don’t want you to have any doubt.” He mumbles against your temple, inhaling deeply before pulling away and taking your hand one more time. “Come on.” He pulls you back towards the house as the sun sets for good, you walk in the darkness until he brings you to the basement entrance and pulls out the keys he’d offered you. 

Several locks adorn the basement entrance, you sift through your key ring until you find each lock's respective key, letting them drop into the grass as you remove each one. When you swing the heavy metal doors open you’re met with the welcoming warmth that comes from below. Several lamps and space heaters create a warm glow that beckons you down the steps. Almost immediately the sheep pulls away, bleating fearfully. Animals are far more intelligent than anyone gives them credit for, they know when something is wrong. 

You pull her down with you then reach up and let the doors slam down, sealing the poor thing in its tomb with you. 

You drop the lead once the doors are closed, there’s no point in leading the lamb any closer to the inevitable slaughter. 

“I have loved you since I first saw you in that bar. I have loved you every moment since, you could be cruel and terrible and I’d love you still and I’d probably deserve it. But you aren’t. You’re smart, and you care about everything, and you love everyone even if they aren’t worthy of it.” His hands caress your face as he whispers into the night air. “And you feel so much guilt for the things I do even though you shouldn’t. You can forgive me for all that I’ve done but it won’t change the fact that I’m still doing terrible things. I’ve done terrible things for so long that I didn’t really consider any other options, but you deserve other options.” 

He pulls open the basement doors once all the locks are undone, and offers his hand to you. 

“I want to show you that I can change, that I would do anything you need me to do, be anything you need me to be.” 

It’s your choice, take it or leave, he won’t hold it against you if you crack and can’t handle it anymore. But you need him to keep yourself together in the first place so you take his calloused hand in yours and let him lead you down into the darkness. 

The smell of vanilla and pine is dense down here. 

As you descend further down the steps you see the familiar set up, a few lamps and lanterns are scattered throughout the darkness as well as a couple space heaters that are only there for your benefit. A mattress you insist on putting sheets on is pushed against one of the scratched up walls, the blankets and pillows scattered about the space, you walk over to the mess, picking up the scattered quilts as you throw everything back down on the mattress. You can feel the movement behind you, the scratching against the cement as you lay down, even with the heaters it’s cold. Thankfully you know you’ll be warm enough soon.

The panicked baa’s of the sheep are swiftly silenced, replaced with the wet tearing sound that once would have filled you with dread. It’s a bit morbid how comforting you now find them, you roll over as you pull another blanket up over yourself, watching the iron chains drag across the floor as the unseen figure pulls them in different directions. 

You can see movement dancing on the edges of the lamp light, the smell of blood is almost as prominent now as the suffocating sweetness. A smile begins to tease the corners of your mouth as you hear him moving closer, the familiar, gravely voice that calls out from the dark recesses of the basement fills your ears like warm honey. 

“C’mere, bunny.”

a/n : that's a wrap on oh honey folks, once again im sorry i made yall wait so long, i hope it was worth it &lt;3

i no longer have a tag list but for fic updates follow @lincolndjarinnotifs !!

[forever-rogue]

Could you please write a story about how best friend reader somehow blips from the TASM!Peter’s universe into MCU!Peters universe and just about the reunion between the reader and TASM!Peter

Bonus points for angst if the reader and TASM!Peter had a fight before they blipped our

AN | This has been in my inbox for months but anon, I hope you see this, and I hope you enjoy it! And yes, I took some liberties with the Peters/timelines ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings | Language, Nondescript mentions of Injury

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” you folded your arms across your chest as you glared at your best friend. The very same best friend that happened to be Peter Parker that also happened to be Spider-Man. The boy sighed as he hung his head, his face bruised and bloodied from a rough night. 

“I think I’m being the normal amount of ridiculous,” his attempt to make a joke didn’t land well with you at all. You took the warm, wet washcloth that had been in your hand and tossed it at him. He caught it effortlessly and looked up at you with a pathetic little look on his face, “alright, I deserved that.”

“Peter,” the way you said his name was enough to make his heart constrict. He hated seeing you upset, but he hated knowing that he was the cause of your pain, “look at you. It’s almost four in the morning and you crawled in through my window, bleeding and clearly in pain. I know…fuck, I know you’re Spider-Man but I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me-”

“Telling me that isn’t going to suddenly make me stop caring, Peter Benjamin Parker,” you sat down on the bed next to him, “I think that sometimes you take too many risks when you could play it safer.”

“I don’t…” he couldn’t even get the sentence out. He knew you were right and he knew that’d been even more reckless than normal lately. Peter wasn’t doing it out of anything really…he just wanted to get things and get his point across, “I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” you whispered, gently taking the cloth back from him, reaching up and gently washing off the blood that had started to dry. The way he winced at even the lightest of touches caused you to frown again, “I love you, Pete. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t know if…” 

You swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, blinking back the tears that were already stinging at the back of your eyes. Peter put his hand on top of your where it rested on his cheek, “nothing is going to happen to me. You’re stuck with me forever, sunshine.”

“Am I?” your voice dropped to a soft whispered, “am I stuck with you forever? Because sometimes I truly wonder about that. I don’t want you coming to me in the middle of the night hurt and upset, but I’d rather have that then nothing because the alternative is…much worse.”

“Yeah,” he missed your touch as soon as you pulled your hand back from him, “I know.”

“Promise me you’ll be more careful?” your voice shook as you willed him to look at you. You wanted him to look at you, wanted to see those big brown eyes looking back at you, “Pete…please.”

“I’ll try and be more careful,” he would barely look in your eyes and that served to break your heart even more, “but I can’t make promises that nothing’s ever going to happen again.”

“Just please don’t make all these sudden, rash decisions, Pete-”

“I can’t promise that will or won’t happen!” he didn’t mean to raise his voice and the way you flinched broke his heart, “you don’t know what it’s like out there! Sometimes you just have to do things…you can’t just think about them!”

You remained silent for a few long moments, before standing up and nodding slightly, “okay. Okay. Get out  please, Peter.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I mean it Peter,” this time it was you that looked away and refused to meet his eyes, “get out. And if you keep acting like this, don’t come back.”

He looked at you in disbelief but when he saw that you weren’t joking, the reality of the situation hit him. He made a small sound before nodding and standing up. He stood there for a moment, both of you avoiding looking at each other, before he gently brushed past you and towards the window. He slid it open but before he could step all the way out he turned back, “I love you too, you know.”

He left without another word, leaving you there with your mind teeling. Had he really just said that and left?

Of course he had. This was Peter Parker after all. With the heaviest of sighs you flopped into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers as you willed sleep to claim you. 

This night had turned out so entirely different from what you had imagined. Now you were afraid you’d lost him forever. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hoped that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Right? Right?

You woke up the next morning to sun streaming in through your window. You groaned as you rolled onto your other side to try and hang onto your sleepiness so you could get a little more shut eye. But luck wasn't having it, and you felt wide awake. With a groan you fumbled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom; you couldn't place it but something felt…off. 

You couldn't shake the feeling all morning as you got ready for work. You checked your phone too many times for what was warranted and found nothing from Peter. You were half surprised but figured that you were pretty harsh on him last night and decided to give him some more space. You'd try him later if he hadn’t gotten back to you.

As you left your apartment for work, everything seemed slightly…different. Like there was some sort of lavender haze settling over everything. You tried to ignore it, rationalizing that you just weren't thinking straight. 

When you got to your office, you received a few weird looks but no one really said anything. So, you settled into your office and got to work, ignoring the nagging feeling. The fact that you somehow couldn't remember your computer password or that everything in your office was just slightly different didn't register.

What did, however, was that Peter hadn't contacted you. So, during your lunch you decided to call him and apologize. If he was willing to listen anyway. You didn't actually want to lose him, you did, however, want him to stay safe and sound.

Midway through the day you grabbed your phone and called him, waiting either bated breath for him to answer. It rang and rang and when you thought it would be kicked over to voice-mail, it was answered.

"Hello?" It was a voice that was most decidedly not Peter. This one sounded…younger? Different? Something.

"Hi, umm, can I talk to Peter?" Maybe one of his coworkers had answered the phone for him. 

"Well, you're talking to him, so…" he sounded confused as your brows knitted together, "w-who is this?"

"This isn't funny," your eyes were tearing up as you tried to figure out what kind of joke this was, "please just put on Peter. I-I need to talk to him, it's important."

"This is Peter-"

"Peter Parker."

"This is Peter Parker," you wanted to be mad but the voice on the other end of the line wasn't laughing. Nor did he sound even remotely amused, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on but…maybe you have the wrong number?"

You hung up without another word, mind racing as you tried to put all the pieces together. Who had Peter's phone? And why?

What was going on?

The rest of the day went by in a blur, as your mind wandered and wandered through a million possibilities of what was going on with Peter. You came to the only logical explanation you could think of - you would simply go by his place to see what was going on.

As soon as you were done, you almost ran out and to his apartment. The concerned looks you were getting from passersby didn't phase you. All you could think of was Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

You knocked on his door, looking around the hall and noticing that a lot of people had made some changes to their places and there were new plants. You listened for his familiar footsteps but after a few moments when you didn't hear anything, you knocked again, this time with more vigor.

This door was wrenched open after a few moments and you found yourself face to face with a young man with wide brown eyes and curious expression etched onto his features.

"Hello?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion, "can I help you?"

"Peter - where's Peter?" You tried to look past him but realized you had no clue who this kid was. Peter was your best friend, you knew his other friends too, "and who are you?"

"Umm…" he looked behind you before turning around and studying his own space. The boy grimaced before exhaling slowly, "I'm Peter. Peter Parker."

"I…I don't understand," you shook your head, rubbing at your tired face in exasperation, "is this supposed to be a joke? Is he in on it?"

"There's - no. Here," he reached into his pocket and fished out his ID and handed it to you. A gasp escaped your lips as you studied. He was Peter Parker and his home address was listed the same as the real Peter, "I don't know what happened with the mix up but-

"Spider-Man," you breathed out softly and a look of shock crossed his features, "how did…how?"

"Peter - my Peter - he's Spider-Man," your mind was reeling as you tried to put all the pieces together, "he has the same phone number and this is his address."

"Wait…" his brows knitted together, "what's your name?"

You told him your name and let out a bit of incredulous laughter, "I know you. Well, umm…I-I guess a version of you. Or whatever this is you. My aunt works with you."

"May? May Parker?" You asked and he nodded with a sheepish shrug. Your May was definitely not going to be the same person, you knew that much. You exhaled slowly, "this is so weird. I don't know what or how or why or anything but I don't think I belong here. You're not…my Peter."

"No," he shook his head and motioned for you to come inside. You stepped into the familiar, yet completely new, apartment and looked around, "is everything okay with him? Your Peter? Are you....?”

“He’s my best friend,” you looked around at all the photos that lined the walls. There were plenty of Peter along with what you assumed were his friends and aunt. Definitely not your May, “at least we were. We kind of got into a fight last night and I basically told him to get out.”

“Oh,” he watched you curiously, “I’ve gotten into a few of those arguments before.”

“You mean the ones where someone gets mad at you for being reckless and asks you to be careful but you claim its part of the job but you’ll try your best?” you asked and Peter nodded in amusement. Part of the job, you supposed. You ran a hand through your hair, “He kept getting hurt and its been getting worse lately and I just…I want him to be careful, you know? He keeps coming through my window, bleeding and bruised, and I’m afraid one day that he’s just not going to be there. He’s not going to come home to me. And I-I can’t lose him. He is…everything to me.”

A mixture of emotions colored his features as you offered him a small, sad little smile, “you’re in love with him.”

“Yeah,” you couldn’t even pretend to lie about it, “I am. I have been for a long time. I’ve just never told him. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“I don’t think you have to tell him,” he offered you a lopsided little smile before tilting his head to one of the pictures on the wall. It was of him and a beautiful girl, both of them beaming at the camera, “not if it’s anything like that.”

“I don’t know,” you’d always wondered if he knew or felt the same. You had no idea and now you were afraid that you might never find out, “but what if I…how do I even get back? What am I doing here?”

“I don’t know how it all works,” he confessed and while you knew that it wasn’t his fault at all, you couldn’t help your sigh, “it’s confusing to me at times too. But there’s a whole…multiverse…theory and all that.”

“Yeah,” you agreed softly, “all that wild, sciencey stuff. Pete is the science brain…just like you I presume. I’m the…not science person. It all gets kind of lost on me. I just don’t know what to do now.”

“Maybe we can figure it out,” he suggested and you couldn’t help but admit that the kid was growing on you. He seemed sincere and kind…he did remind you of your Peter in a lot of ways, “just give me some time to think, okay?”

“Thank you,” you reached over and gave his shoulder a squeeze, “you’re very kind. In the meantime I guess I’ll just try and keep calm and all that.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked softly, “do you want to stay here?”

“I’ll go back to my…well, this world’s anyway, apartment,” you hadn’t seen anyone else, namely the alternate universe you, in the apartment or anywhere at your work. You figured you’d probably replaced her…or yourself or whatever it was, “I guess I’ll see you around? You have my number now if you think of anything.”

“I will,” he promised, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow and we can figure out something. If you need anything or anything seems off, please call or text me.”

“Sounds good,” you headed towards the door and gave him a small smile, “thank you, Peter. It seems like in every universe you’re a good guy.”

“But we’ll get you back to your Peter. Promise,” he held up his hand with his outstretched pinkie and you couldn’t help but laugh at his silliness. You hooked your pinkie around his and nodded.

You had some hope that whatever happened would be fixed. 

Then you’d go back to Peter and finally tell him how you felt. You had to - you knew you did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A few days had passed without much happening. You spent the time you could with Peter and his friend Ned trying to go through all the possible things that could have happened. You kept rehashing each moment in your mind, going through it all over and over again until you felt like you no longer knew what had actually happened. 

The worst part of all was that none of you could figure out exactly what happened or why you were suddenly there instead of your own home. The only thing it did was cause your hope to slowly dwindle away - what if you were stuck there forever? What if you never saw Peter again? That would have been the worst thing of all. The boys did help though and kept reassuring you that things would be alright. You hoped they were right.

After a week, you started to accept that you weren’t going anywhere. At least, you reasoned with yourself, you weren’t stuck in some weird universe that was completely different from what you knew. 

Things were starting to seem normal, until late one evening while you were watching a movie and you heard a loud, frantic knocking at the door.

“Hold on, hold on,” you set your ice cream down and padded towards the door. Perhaps it was a neighbor you hadn’t met before or maybe someone had the wrong address; either way, you definitely weren’t expecting anyone. You opened the door without even thinking about checking to see who it was, “hello?”

“Hi,” your mouth opened and closed a few times as you looked at the man standing across the threshold. Peter Parker. But not just any Peter Parker, it was your Peter. 

“Peter?” you almost whispered his name and he nodded at you, confused for just a moment. Without thinking about it, you threw yourself into his arms, and he caught you without missing a beat as he hugged you back just as fiercely, “Peter!”

“Sunshine,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “oh, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you pulled back and took his face in your hands, looking him over. It was still the same man you loved and adored, the bruises and scratches from the last time you’d seen him almost completely gone, “I…I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“You didn’t really think one little argument was going to keep me away, did you?” he wrapped his fingers around your wrists, looking at you softly, “I thought that maybe you didn’t want to see me. You weren’t answering my calls or texts.”

“I…” he had no clue. He had no idea that you’d been gone for over a week, “how long was I avoiding you?”

“Like…ten days, not that I’ve been counting or anything,” he admitted sheepishly, cheeks pinking, “this was kind of my last ditch attempt to apologize and to tell you that -”

“I’m in love with you,” you couldn't help yourself - you just had to get it out. His big, brown eyes softened and he seemed to lose his voice for a moment. You nervously smiled at him, “Peter Parker. My Peter.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, heart eyed with a lovesick smile on his face, “I’m yours.”

This time he surprised you by pulling you in and kissing you. His actions caught you so off guard that it took you a moment to respond. When you did, you looped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with just as much hunger and neediness. Neither of you wanted to stop, reluctantly pulling apart when you needed air. 

“I’m, ugh, in love with you too,” he pressed his forehead against yours and you couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses from him, “have you been okay? I was getting worried when you didn’t call or text back. No one had seen you either.”

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” you reached for his hand and pulled him inside, “so much.”

“Wait - did something happen?” he looked you over, relieved to see that you didn’t appear to be in any sort of pain or harm, “sunshine?”

“I haven’t been gone,” you weren’t even sure where to begin with this one, “well, not really. I was with Peter Parker.”

“Umm….not sure where I was, but I don’t remember…”

“I don’t expect you to - but you’ll understand,” you looked at him with wide eyes, “because while it was Peter Parker - it wasn’t you. A-and Aunt May was different too.”

“Whoa, whoa,” he grew excited as he quickly caught up on what you were saying - he was a practical genius after all, “are you saying that…”

“Multiverse,” you finished for him, “it’s all true - I think. Some of it anyway.”

“Holy shit.”

“I have so much to tell you,” you grinned, “and, ugh, thank you for not immediately assuming I was crazy.”

“I’m Spider-Man,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’ve heard and experienced stranger things. Tell me more.”

“I will,” you promised, dragging him over to the couch before stopping yourself, “wait - there’s something else I want to do first.”

“What is it-”

And then you were kissing him again and he immediately melted into your touch. 

“Oh,” he sighed softly, “I could get used to that.”

“Good,” you beamed at him and things suddenly felt right again the world, “me too.”

[milkyboybluewriter]

The Disappointing Case of Wendy Corduroy

Wendy Corduroy has a lot of potential, but too often is pushed to the side by a lot of fans, and even by her creator.  But not for lack of trying, or an interest in the character.  In fact, Alex’s idealised view of Wendy may have been her greatest obstacle in receiving a story of her own.  Dipper isn’t the only one who seems to consider her ‘the coolest person he knows.’

Wendy was inspired by the first girl who ever spoke to Alex Hirsch, as well as several people the creative team thought were cooler than them. These were likely special memories or people in order to base a fictional character on them.  But that puts her on a pedestal.  And when someone puts you up there, it’s hard for them to take you back down.  Either for fear of ruining you or concern that, when others look closer, they’ll be disappointed in what they see.

He wanted her to be a main character (in the same way Soos is, if not Stan, Dipper, or Mabel) but in many ways Wendy feels like a side character.  She never receives her own episode, and lacks the character arc that even some side characters like Pacifica and Robbie received.

Her family, her friends inside the Shack and out, her physical abilities and survival skills, the drama of being a teenager, not to mention being a resident of the weirdest place on Earth.  All of these can lead to a hundred stories across the spectrum.  So why do people not write more stories about her?

Maybe it’s because she wasn’t given the opportunity that others had.  

As a cool, older redhead, Wendy’s main role in the show was being Dipper’s crush.  Which already puts her at a disadvantage because it means they designed her purpose first, character second. In fact, this is probably why she changed so drastically from her vegan-hippie prototype seen in the Gravity Falls bible.  Everything from her boots to her hat has changed since then, save the way she makes Dipper’s heart go faster.  

Most of her appearances in season one featured this one-sided romance and Dipper’s attempts to impress her, which usually resulted in a morality lesson about being yourself and not doing dumb stuff to impress others.  Pretty standard cartoon crush territory.  But between the episodes, a real friendship bloomed. 

In The Time Traveller's Pig, she gives an indifferent shrug as she casually agrees to go to the fair with Dipper, yet before her injury - and in the timeline where she avoids it altogether - she’s shown to genuinely enjoy his company.  A couple of episodes later and she’s outright excited at the prospect of working alongside Dipper at the pool.  They have regular movie nights.  They crack jokes and tease the Shack’s customers.  Climb trees and play at the arcade.  Wendy spends more time with Dipper than any other character.  Which means she must care about him more than she does the rest.

The crush might be one-sided but the affection is not.

But in the DVD commentary of Into The Bunker, Alex Hirsch, Matt Chapman, and Rob Renzetti mention that fan feedback convinced them to end Dipper’s crush sooner rather than later, even supposedly having ‘KILL THE CRUSH’ as one of their main story goals for season 2.  Understandable.  The crush episodes weren’t always the best, and if it was always intended as an unrequited attraction then better to get it over with rather than draw it out.  And it’s a good lesson to have a young boy learn, especially around twelve.  Love and puberty are relatable, but no less frustrating for it.

Into the Bunker is my favourite episode for multiple reasons, not least for Wendy’s presence in it.  She shows off her friendship with Dipper in the cold open, reveals her lumberjack and fighting skills later, and shows she would be an excellent adventurer.  I see it as a prime example of What Could Have Been.  I especially adore the ending, where she lets Dipper down so gently, it’s a beautiful scene.  As sad as Dipper feels, he’s also been told by someone very special to him that he’s very special to her too.  Maybe not in the way he wants, but perhaps in an even more important way.  

I had high hopes after that episode.  I remember thinking this meant she would develop beyond just being his crush, especially now we’d seen her hold her own against the weirdness and danger.  I really wanted to see more of this adventurous, sensitive Wendy we’d missed in season one, and wanted her to be a regular companion and friend to the twins.

Wendy appears in 16 episodes in the first season, and 15 episodes in the second if you don’t split Weirdmageddon 3 into two.  In season one she appeared in but didn’t participate in the adventure of key episodes like Dreamscaperers or Gideon rises.  In season two, she joins the adventure in Society of the Blind Eye, The Last Mabelcorn, and the Weirdmageddon trilogy, but has limited interaction or story impact in most episodes, save Love God.   She only has what amounts to cameo appearances in Not What He Seems and Tale of Two Stans, two of if not the most important episodes of the series.  

Including each of the Weirdmageddon trilogy, she’s referenced via Dipper’s lingering crush six times, including episodes she doesn’t even appear in.  So, after Into The Bunker, Wendy goes from being Dipper’s crush to…his crush that appears less.  

Wow, they really failed that Kill the Crush mission, didn’t they?

Perhaps the biggest issue is that she is so keenly tied to Dipper.  I love the Dipper and Wendy relationship, I could write a massive essay on that alone.  But it is such an incredible waste that she didn’t get a chance to interact with the others nearly so often. Every other main character has relationships with others.  Soos has a father-son bond with Stan as well as a friendship with the twins.  Ford was introduced later in season 2 and still interacts with Soos and Fiddleford as well as his family.  It’s a hindrance to her character that most of her interactions were for Dipper’s arc, yet she received nothing of her own.  

Wendy spends some time with Mabel, trying to help her with boy trouble (not the best person to get dating advice from, Mabel) in Hand That Rocks the Mabel and Society of the Blind Eye, then goes along with the girls to keep them safe in Last Mabelcorn.  This lets us see her affection and big sister vibes don’t end with Dipper, and should have been explored far more.  Her interactions with Soos and Stan are also limited, mainly to the workplace.  Her only dialogue with Ford is one line in Journal 3.  

Yet we also never see her be by herself.  We never see her home life, or how she entertains herself away from her friends or work. She's always interacting with a main character or her group of friends.  No alone time or personal interests are seen beyond pranks and reading magazines to avoid work.

We even get to see Robbie Valentino’s home life and musical hobbies, but not hers.

This lack of independent material has even continued in the Book of Bill where two of her very limited mentions is in regards to Dipper being stuck on a tree and another is his search history.  Even her own dream is made into a joke at Dipper's expense.  Ten years later, and so much of her is tied to Dipper, specifically to mock his feelings for her.  I don’t know if that’s more insulting to Dipper or Wendy at this point.

Speaking of dreams, let’s get to another issue: her mother.  Who we know nothing about.  In a show so heavily focussed on mysteries, the fate of Mrs Corduroy is a question that’s been left hanging since season one and we have come no closer to an answer of any kind.  Even a direct question from fans on both the Alex Hirsch and Bill Cipher AMAs were answered so vaguely they told us nothing.  She’s no longer with her?  A Fountains of Wayne reference?  Even the Book of Bill’s reveal that Wendy dreams about her most nights says nothing.  Are these good dreams?  Nightmares?  Memories?  The implication is that she’s dead, yet not even that has been confirmed.  For all we know, Mrs Corduroy could be dead, missing, abandoned her family, or could be working on an oil rig for the summer.  Your guess is as good as anyone’s by this point. 

We know she’s Manly Dan’s oldest and his only daughter, but we didn’t even learn her brother’s names until a paste up sheet was released in 2017.  She barely shares a scene with any of them, and when it happens it’s in the background.  The only exception I can think of is their group hug in the Fearamid.  A tender moment which would have been so much better if we’d actually seen her engage with them beforehand.  Her lack of interaction is especially jarring considering her confession in Society of the Blind Eye:  "Okay, I'm not actually laid back. I'm stressed, like, 24/7. Have you met my family?"

Not really, no.  And for a show that’s about family as much as it is about mystery, it’s a shame that Wendy is let down in both areas.  

Even side characters like Robbie, Pacifica, and Grenda receive more character development, despite their limited importance or screen time.  In fact, it was recently pointed out to me that Archibald Corduroy, Wendy’s ancestor, is more integral to Pacifica than his own descendant.  Once again, Wendy’s interactions come up short, including from her own family.  

With the release of the Book of Bill, some people were hopeful that she might finally get some attention.  I wasn’t.  Personally, I think Bill simply has a low opinion of Wendy anyway since he called her a pushover in his AMA, so it can be fitting he doesn’t mention her often.  But it’s also the context of these mentions, and those on the website.  On Thisisnotawebsite.com she’s referred to twice - Her one contribution is a simple note where she pranks the reader.  Then she’s mentioned in Stan’s list of embarrassing moments.  

Ten years later and not only are her contributions incredibly minor, but they’re as much to do with other people as herself, if not more so.  She’s supposed to be a main character but she might as well be a cameo.

Her lack of representation is so bad, that I realised my friends were celebrating her being mentioned in The Book of Bill.  That’s how desperate we’ve become for Wendy material.  And I’m sick of it.   At this point, I’m anticipating a Wendy story as much as I am Winds of Winter.

Last month I was discussing some of my writing ideas with my father.  And he gave me a very hard truth: it doesn’t matter how good your ideas are, if you don’t act on them, they’re only ideas.  And he was absolutely right.  It doesn’t matter how great these ideas are in my head, if they’re only in my head then what good are they? 

Hirsch has been saying for years he’s wanted to do more with Wendy, but he hasn’t. Not in the show, the comics, or the other material.  Intentions, like ideas, are useless if you don’t do something about them.

I honestly hate how harsh this sounds.  I love Gravity Falls.  And I love Wendy.  And I believe Alex Hirsch does too, he just…doesn’t know what to do with her.  As he says in the Inconveniencing commentary: “We wanted to honour her so much that we couldn’t figure out the right episode with her because we didn’t want to mess her up.”  He’s put her on a pedestal just like Dipper did.  And I think she needs to come down so we can see how awesome she really is.

So, what can be done to fix this?  Well, when creators don’t have the time, interest, or ability to do something for a series, that leaves the fans to fill in the gap.  

I urge other Gravity Falls enthusiasts to try and give her the attention and character development she sorely deserves, especially now there’s a resurgence of activity and interest.  Draw or write her if you can, have her interact with other characters, not just be a crush, explore her depths.  And if you can’t, seek out those who have or can and ask their advice, or thank them for their work, offer encouragement.  For Wendy if not for them.

I want to leave this on a happier note and say that I’m going to follow this up soon with another essay, this time offering advice on writing Wendy.  Even talented writers I admire have surprised me by saying they struggle to write her, yet I’ve found it pretty easy.  So hopefully I can encourage other people to write her too.   

But if I could summarise what I want to see and what I think will help people write Wendy, it would be this: She’s not just Dipper’s crush, and she’s not just the cool girl.  She’s bigger than that.

She’s Wendy Flippin’ Corduroy and she deserves so much more.

Cheers, Milky Boy Blue

[peachdues]

Hi Peach!

I hope you are doing well

I just seen your reblog about the DS Mark and in the tags you had mentioned WWII

I hope this isn’t nosey but I was just wondering what your theory/explanation about the war was as I was curious to see if we had the same thoughts about it

My headcannon is that Sanemi and Giyuu survive the mark but I always pictured them passing away during the war in their early 50s

X

Okay! Theory time! Slight spoilers for KNY ahead.

So first and foremost, we never have proof that the curse is actually real — it’s a theory. we never get direct confirmation that the 25 thing is true. The Corps does not have a good track record when it comes to life expectancy. Muzan is also not a reliable source — he has an ulterior motive in baiting Tanjiro to become his new vessel.

But even setting that aside, the “dead before 25” thing just isn’t feasible — especially for Sanemi and Giyuu. To break it down, let’s take a look at the canonical timeline and both men’s ages at the end of the series:

When we first meet Giyuu/Sanemi, both are 21 years old. Following @demonslayedher ‘s timeline (which is wonderful and the most accurate I’ve seen), the final battle with Muzan happens a few months later, most likely in January.

We don’t for sure whether Sanemi or Giyuu is older than the other — as in, we don’t know who turned 21 first. Sanemi very well could be 22 by the time the final battle happens and we know Giyuu has his 22nd birthday between the end of the battle and Tanjiro regaining consciousness (the timeline estimates Tanjiro wakes up sometime in March if I remember correctly). That means either Sanemi is 21 at that time (to turn 22 months later) or he’s already 22, going on 23 in about eight months time.

We get a year update from Tanjiro (one year after the ending of the main series). this means Sanemi and Giyuu are at least 23, and possibly one of them is 24 (or near that age).

We know, based on the update, that Giyuu and Sanemi are both still adjusting to their new lives post-Demon Slayer Corps. There is no mention either of them have settled down. In fact, at the end of the main series, it appears both are traveling to an extent (enjoying the youth they haven’t experienced).

Applying the “Sanemi and Giyuu die before 25” theory, that means they both have just over a year (at MOST maybe a year and a half or two years) to find a wife and settle down — AND have children. One pregnancy = 9 months, so that shortens their window even more. Why? Because of the epilogue.

We know that both Giyuu and Sanemi have at least one descendant who has carried their surname into the modern age. In a patriarchal society, surnames pass with male children. So not only would Sanemi and Giyuu have less than two years left to find a bride (and I don’t think either of them settle for the first woman who comes along) and impregnate her, but they *also* had to have both had a male child on the first try. Otherwise, there is simply no time for either of them to keep trying for children until they produce a male, which, again, they already lose 9 months with one pregnancy.

I’m not saying this scenario is impossible — but also think about the greater context of history. Demon Slayer is a historical fantasy set during the Taisho Era. Thus, while demons certainly don’t exist in the real world, KNY incorporates much of the history of that time period into its story — the Taisho era setting is almost its own character.

And what happens about 20-ish years after the end of the series? WW2. A time that resulted in massive loss of life to Japanese citizens as a result of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings (plus the war in general).

So, not only would Sanemi and Giyuu both had to have had a male child in the short one year before their theorized deaths, but those male children had to have survived long enough to reproduce with more male children to continue the family name into the modern age. Again, not impossible, but considerably less likely given the historical context, never mind the realities of being a human.

All this to say, to actually apply the 25 theory means a lot of variables have to align perfectly — more so than is almost believable.

TL;DR — it’s a theory at best, but correlation does not equal causation. That slayers who manifested the mark died before 25 isn’t surprising given the context. The mark manifests when the slayer is pushed to their absolute limit — meaning they simply can’t fight any better. It makes sense then that their body gives up, or that they lose especially because everyone’s limit is different. A weaker slayer can manifest the mark and be no where near the strength of a hashira, so it makes sense they die against a demon with the strength of an upper moon.

Simply put, we have no hard confirmation that Sanemi and Giyuu will die before 25 — and even if they did, that undercuts the significance of their own endings, which further casts doubt on its validity.

I could go on about this, but I’m probably rambling. But that’s my summary in general!

[satorugojjo]

The more I read the more I don’t understand the absolutely homophobic coded hate for The Sun and the Star. Nico literally shares a homophobic experience he experienced in the 40s that shaped the way he viewed himself, reflects on it, and then comes to the conclusion that’s what made him react to Cupid so badly, and THIS is something to hate??? Nico, growing, learning to share, learning to not impose isolation on himself, learning to feel his emotions and let them out, to be there for people, to miss Percy and Hazel and Jason, actually developing, and people are like “ugh so boring and unrealistic, they ruined my fav character”

Well, sorry he’s not the miserable little edgelord you all desperately want him to be. Sorry that Will actually has some very understandable flaws, sorry that Percabeth aren’t perfect, sorry that you’d read book about the experience of coming out for an Italian raised boy from the 1930s and think it’s boring, sorry that you’d read about the trauma of his Tartarus experience from HoH and go “OVERDONE”!!! This book does have flaws but it is not Nico and Will.

Every single interaction feels meaningful, the focus on emotion, growth, light, happiness, connection, love, friendship, and more is what is quintessential PJO to me. It’s not full of adventure after adventure and that’s perfectly fine to me. They’re navigating an emotional minefield. How the fuck can this fandom sit here and complain about the lack of emotional depth in Blood of Olympus and then when they do get it they’re like, “oh no no no this is the WRONG kind, I want him to stay miserable, I actually don’t want to read about his sorrow from his POV, I don’t want Nico to be MATURING” GROW UP?

Nothing about Solangelo so far feels OOC to me, and every time they do it’s actually even pointed out to us that it IS ooc, and we get to see how they feel about it. This is exactly what I expect from canonical middle school sunshine/darkness tropes.

Also, this is VERY IMPORTANT so pay fucking attention. THIS. IS. NOT. A. MAIN. PLOT. BOOK. IT DOESNT HAVE TO BE BREAKNECK PACING. If this was an anime, this would be a sweet little OVA arc. This is a side story, just the same way the Percy/Thalia/Nico story was. It’s a companion book about two side characters. Why are your expectations as high as a main series book? It’s a NICO AND WILL book, it’s not anything more or less. Another thing to remember? Canonically this is meant to be the year 2011. The RRverse is very anachronistic where current year elements feature in a timeline where it shouldn’t, but EVEN SO, it still feels at best 2015. More importantly? It’s only been a year since Cupid. A singular YEAR. For reference the pandemic started 3 whole years ago.

I can’t stand fans sometimes, you’ll jump on any bandwagon of hate without exercising a single shred of critical thinking or nuance, and then conveniently forget a whole bunch of things that are GOOD for the minor flaws this book has. This isn’t a 10/10 book, it’s probably a solid 7.5!!! Stop treating it as if it’s 3/10. And I stand by what I said before. We need more middle grade LGBT lit! Is this the BEST out there? No. Is this however bad? No. And before you guys come for me without having a molecule of reading comprehension, it’s OKAY to not like this book. It’s not okay however to make sweeping statements of hate as if everyone who enjoys this book is a blithering idiot.

[casp1an-sea]

because no one seems to agree with me here are reasons why the acolyte is actually really good!

Nothing feels drawn out. A lot of people say things are revealed too soon or too easily but with a season that’s only eight episodes long I think the quick pace actually helps people stay invested. We don’t run into the issue of filler episodes that plague many other Star Wars shows.

It shows the inner workings of the Jedi, when they are at their peak, and in what ways they succeed and fail essentially highlighting what eventually leads to their downfall in the prequel movies

The story feels unique because it doesn’t follow any characters in the main movies and doesn’t have any unnecessary cameos from other pieces of Star Wars media, with an exception of Darth plagues, but it’s still limited to the point that it doesn’t feel unnecessary or like fan service. I personally don’t mind cameos, but they can take away from the mood of the show, acolyte does not have this issue.

also because the characters are not in any of the main movies, there’s an added tension, because we know these characters stories do not directly affect characters in later things in the timeline so we do not know what will happen to them, and it also gives the writers more freedom to do what they want as the story won’t interfere with a Skywalker Saga that way, it doesn’t feel boxed in or stretched to fit a certain narrative

The dark side is seductive. No this is not just me saying Qimir is hot, because while he is, that’s not the reason why it’s so seductive. He’s nice he doesn’t force Osha to do anything he lets her make her own choices because he knows that something The Jedi aren’t really allowed to do so he’s offering her something new, the opportunity to find herself rather then find what others want her to be. This is how the dark side should be feared yet tempting.

The good side doesn’t win. This is more of a personal choice, but I just think it makes it feel even more unique.

The light saber fights are amazing

This isn’t to say there aren’t any issues with the show, but every show has issues. I think a lot of people went into the show already thinking they were going to hate it and that tainted their view of it I’m just tired of people missing the point of the story because they hyper focus on it’s flaws. Star Wars has made much worse things I promise.

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | alt chapter: one last cigarette

Toxic!Ex!Mattheo Riddle x f!Reader

Chapter summary: Just when you were ready to leave the past behind, the very person you're trying to escape shows up. 949 words.

Author’s note: Final upload for this series! Wrote this back in March, but it took me forever to post because it's hard to officially say goodbye to the series but here we are.

This chapter is not canon. The main story line officially ended with the previous chapter. This one is just an alternate ending I wrote when I was trying to figure out what to do with Mattheo’s story arc and I like how it turned out. Ex!Mattheo isn’t very popular in this story and for good reason. In the end, I couldn’t write this ending without him being toxic!Mattheo so be warned.

This chapter contains angst and a bit of angry sex so 18+ only below the cut. It was hard writing this because the tone has been mostly fluff, but you can’t really have an ex!story without the heartbreak.

series masterlist | previous chapter | main masterlist

A rude awakening

A/N: This is the final flashback with yours and Mattheo’s story.

“I love you, Mattheo,” I whisper against his ear as the first rays of sunlight filter through the window. 

Mattheo wonders what he did to deserve her affection. Breathing here in between slumber and the waking world, his defenses dwindle. The thoughts he long kept at bay claws its way to the surface. 

He is the dark lord’s son. He was always fated to ruin everything and everyone he loved. If he didn’t hurt her now, he would in the future.

It was easier, kinder even, to let her go now.

So he did what he knew best.

The last cigarette

A/N: Timeline wise, this takes place before chapter seven. In this alt timeline, you and Enzo never attend the ball.

I inhale the cigarette smoke, letting it fill my lungs, and exhale. One last cigarette for Mattheo. Once I snuff it out, I’m letting him go.

A week after we broke up, grief came in waves. I’d do well in class and get excited to show Mattheo before I remember I no longer could. I’d see his favorite food at the Great Hall and turn, but he wasn’t beside me. I’d snuggle in bed and wait for him to climb in, but he no longer did. How did I keep forgetting?

How did I keep remembering?

I remembered one evening how smoking helped him relax. Maybe it could help me too.

All it did was make me smell like him and I clung on because it was the closest I could get to him. 

But here, now, one last smoke then I'll let him go. I inhale and think of twinkling night skies, when Mattheo and I pretended we were floating among the stars. The way they reflected his eyes.

I remember hot chocolate and croissants, snuggling by the fireplace. He complained about my chocolate flavored kisses. Deep down, I knew he loved them.

I recall his fire. Hair pulling, lips crashing, back scratching. The way his touch seared my soul.

And it was good for a while. I exhale and watch it all drift away in the night wind.

I inhale and recall that night. Begging him to stay, to talk to me, we could work it out. Instead he said he got bored. Instead he kissed her.

And oh. Love really did leave you hollow when it left. I exhale and watch the smoke disappear.

I inhale and—

“I thought you liked your lungs?” Mattheo asks, approaching me.

“Don’t talk to me like you know me.”

He stands beside me, eyes searching my face. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“It’s a little too late now, isn’t it? What the fuck, Mattheo? I’m with Enzo and suddenly you care about me?”

“I’ve always cared, please—” he tries.

“You had three weeks to find me, Mattheo. To apologize. But you didn’t. I’m not some trophy you can take from Enzo just so you can score another point against him!”

He recoils, hurt in his eyes. “Do you really think that little of me?”

“Have you forgotten what you’ve done?” I ask.

“If I could take it back, I would.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” I accuse him.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks, exasperated. “I’m an idiot! I messed up. I never felt like I was good enough for you.”

“No Matty, you don’t understand,” I point to him, a tear escaping. “You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough!”

My tears spill and his eyes water. He pulls me in his arms as I sob.

“You don’t get to hurt me and cry as if you’re the victim,” I say.

“Angel, please, I didn’t mean to” he shifts so he can look into my eyes and wipe my tears. “If words are not enough,” he kisses me.  

My lips are electrified, everything inside me burning. Needing, hating, mourning. I want to scream, instead I suck his lower lip hard enough to bruise and grip his hair. It earns me a grunt as he hauls my body to his, closing the gap between us.

His hand trails down my waist to press me where he needs me most. Moving against each other, friction and heat sparking embers within. And it’s still not enough.

Without leaving my lips, Mattheo turns us around. Hands locked around his neck, eyes closed, I follow his footsteps until I feel the wall behind me. His hand snakes under my skirt, caressing my thigh. A filthy moan leaves my mouth—begging, praying, craving. More.

He moves his finger where I’m most sensitive and I gasp, breaking our kiss. He brings his mouth to my ear, “I’ll show you just how sorry I am.” With his free hand, he tugs my hair until I’m staring at the stars, and runs his tongue from the base of my throat to my chin.

Muscle memory takes over as his fingers slide across my folds, knowing just where I needed him. My breathing gets ragged when he fills me up with his fingers, exploiting all the ways he can make me moan and whimper. “Fuck. I missed you, angel.”

I ride his fingers, hating his stupid voice and his messy hair.

He bites my neck, leaving marks and I hate his filthy mouth.

He moves relentlessly. I hate his eyes. I hate his hands. I hate his voice.

I burn until I’m overcome with white hot rage, coming undone for him. Shockwaves of pleasure writhe through me as he presses me for all I have.

A second before afterglow, in the quiet darkness, I hate myself most because I still love him. 

“Come on angel, I’m not done apologizing,” he says, taking my hand, leading me to my dorm.

I never get to finish my cigarette.

series masterlist | previous chapter | main masterlist

A/N: If there was a quote for you and Mattheo in this series, exploring your past relationship, it would be:

"The love was there. It didn't change anything. It didn't save anyone...but it still matters that the love was there."

Thanks again to everyone who followed the series! ♡

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf @helpimhopelesslyinlove @helendeath @optimisticsandwichgladiator

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Did Lilia leave NRC? Is he dead?

It sounds to me like you might not yet be caught up with book 7 yet! These questions do somewhat get addressed (and I will provide those answers as well, but below the cut in case you want to save the reveal for later and can still be surprised!)

***Spoilers for book 7 (up to part 116 in the JP update) below the cut!!***

A major story beat in book 7 is that Lilia’s magic is waning, so he plans to drop out of NRC (you need the ability to do magic, especially for the upper level classes) and retire in the Land of the Crimson Long. Diasomnia throws a going-away party for Lilia, inviting everyone in the school to attend and send him off. However, right as they announce that the carriage is here for him, Malleus crashes the celebration and, unable to handle the idea of his loved ones leaving him, forces everyone on Sage’s Island into a deep slumber so that they may be in an eternal state of “happily ever after”.

Lilia was very close to leaving NRC, but technically (even by 7-116) because he’s physically unable to. Malleus still has him and several others tangled in his powerful sleeping spell.

Lilia is also still alive, but it isn’t specified just how long he has left to live. He states that “his kind” of fae can live up to 1000 years but then admits that his lifespan might be cut short due to how wild and reckless he was during his youth. We later learn that, in actuality, his lifespan may be shortened due to him giving Malleus a significant amount of his own magic to help him hatch from the egg. Currently, Lilia is about 700ish, but based on the lore we can guess that he won’t make it to 1000 (and even if he did, most of the characters in our current cast wouldn’t be around anymore by the time Lilia passes too).

I’m uncertain that they’ll actually kill Lilia off given that this is a gacha game (and he has to stay alive for the sake of being marketable/having more cards come out)… unless maybe they formally introduce AUs or branching timelines in the main story (the vignettes + event stories are already “AUs”). Book 7 also proposes the idea that Malleus might die (as the characters stated there are only two ways to bring an end to his spell: either the caster dies or the caster willingly stops his magic), though the cast also discusses amongst themselves and come to the conclusion that they have to convince Malleus, not kill him. Again, I’d be genuinely shocked if TWST killed off Malleus, who has been their poster child all the time. The idea alone is pretty morbid yet fascinating; imagine all the ways him and/or Lilia dying would drastically impact the course of not only the lives they’ve touched at NRC, but also their country 😔

[coelii]

let’s talk Castlevania lore~

so it occurred to me that, within the game material (I haven’t watched the TV show or anything like that so that’s not personally interesting to me for this discussion, sry sry), we don’t have all THAT clear an idea of why Dracula is A Bad Guy Who Must Be Stopped At All Costs, do we? I kinda feel like it’s mostly just treated as “c’mon, it’s Dracula, let’s go vampire killin’”

I mean we’ve got the accusation that he “steals men’s souls and makes them [his] slaves,” and, okay, if true (do we ever, like, see that?) I guess that’s pretty not great. And I’m willing to accept just a priori that he is A Vampire and therefore, okay, presumably there’s some drinking of innocent blood or something, not ideal. (Again, not sure that ever occurs on-screen?) I guess he also cursed Simon to have some pretty horrible nights? That’s not rad, i guess.

But like, fundamentally, do we ever have actual word in the games/game material of what exactly Dracula’s menace really IS? Just what kind of fate is the Belmont clan (et al.*) supposedly protecting us from? I guess I probably don’t want to live next door to an Active Vampire, but honestly it’s pretty amusing to me that I can’t actually think of what Dracula supposedly, like, wants.

(*from the Latin “et Alucard”)

So if we’re strictly looking at game material (and specifically main game and not the Lords of Shadow reboot) in my opinion there’s two origin games that have made a case for Dracula’s desires.

Castlevania Lament of Innocence

As covered in another recent ask, this is the official first game in the timeline

Here you play as Leon Belmont whose betrothed Sara is kidnapped by an ancient vampire named Walter Bernhard. Leon’s close friend Mathias Cronqvist, an alchemist who is grief stricken over the loss of his wife Elisabetha (who died of an illness while he was away), informs Leon that Walter was the one who kidnapped Sara and Leon goes to save her. Over the course of the game you learn that there are two powerful vampire relics and Walter is in possession of one: the Ebony Stone that produces darkness and makes Walter effectively invulnerable (as he is strongest in the darkness the stone produces).

You also create the Vampire Killer whip during the game which has the power to break the Ebony Stone and make Walter susceptible to damage. At the game’s climax, when Walter is close to Death (both metaphorically and physically) it’s revealed that Leon’s buddy Mathias had the other vampire relic, the Crimson Stone, the whole time. This relic absorbs the souls and power of other vampires (kind of a Ghostbuster situation).

Walter’s soul is captured in the stone, but Mathias uses it for his own dark purposes - to become a vampire himself and take revenge against God (whom he curses for taking his wife from him). Mathias eventually gives up his name and adopts the name Dracula instead and is canonically the Dracula in all Castlevania Games.

This origin story unfortunately leaves a lot to be desired in Dracula’s motivations because it basically amounts to Dracula being a man who’s just mad that God took his wife from him and uses another Vampire’s power (Walter) as his own. He isn’t noble or powerful without the stone (which is this red thing he wears in much of the official artwork apparently)

But I guess “stick it to the man” is technically a motivation…

Castlevania Legends

Now I’m a Lament of Innocence denier personally and would prefer to use the older games as the source to answer this question.

According to the Legend’s instruction book the story is:

IT WAS THE MIDDLE AGES IN TRANSYLVANIA. ONE MAN CAME INTO POSSESSION OF AN EVIL POWER, AND THE PRINCE OF DARKNESS WAS BORN. BEFORE LONG, THIS BEING HAD USED HIS NEW-FOUND SUPERNATURAL POWERS AND THE MAGIC POWERS OF HIS FOLLOWERS TO SPREAD HIS PLAGUE OF DARKNESS AND DESPAIR THROUGHOUT THE EUROPEAN CONTINENT, HE WAS COUNT DRACULA. EVEN TO MENTION THE NAME OF THIS PRINCE OF DARKNESS WAS TO CAST FEAR INTO THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE IN THE LAND, WHO WERE POWERLESS TO DO ANYTHING SAVE VOICE THEIR CONCERN. HOWEVER, AT ABOUT THE SAME TIME A BABY GIRL POSSESSING SPECIAL POWERS WAS BORN TO A FAMILY LIVING IN A REMOTE AREA OF THE COUNTRY. "YOUR POWERS ARE MEANT FOR A HIGHER PURPOSE AND NOT ONLY FOR YOURSELF” SHE WAS OFTEN REMINDED AS SHE WAS GROWING UP. THE PLOT OF THIS GIRL'S FATE BEGAN TO DEVELOP ONE NIGHT IN HER SEVENTEENTH YEAR WHEN SHE MET UP WITH THE YOUNG ENIGMATIC ALUCARD, WHO WAS ON A JOURNEY TO SEARCH FOR THE FATHER THAT HAD DESERTED HIM. THE YOUNG GIRL'S NAME WAS SONIA BELMONT, AND SHE WAS THE FIRST OF THE VAMPIRE HUNTERS IN THE BELMONT FAMILY TO BECOME LEGENDARY.

Now unfortunately this doesn’t tell us too much. In this origin Dracula exists already, obtained his power by coming “into possession” of it, and his motivation is simply “spread his plague of darkness and despair throughout the European continent” (Africa, Asia, the Americas, and Australia are all safe apparently).

Now I don’t want to theorycraft too far off the actual game material here, but I do know that Vampire Hunter D was heavily inspirational to the development of Castlevania. Many people know the anime films, but Vampire Hunter is a series of novels first published in 1983 (three years before the first CV game was released) and in these novels the being known as the “Sacred Ancestor” is the progenitor of all the other vampires and the oldest among them. He is known as the Vampire King or God and D is the Sacred Ancestor’s son (so to speak). This was the inspiration for Alucard, who we know in Castlevania lore to be Dracula’s direct descendant.

The VH novels present vampires as a race unto themselves, not the traditional mythos of humans given vampiric power (although they can still create vampires from humans).

Novel #17: White Devil Mountain (published 2014) is more explicit in this stating that vampires predate humans by possibly millions of years. The Sacred Ancestor, as the oldest among them, felt it was his duty to watch over his people and did many experiments over the years to try and save his race from eventual extermination (not necessarily by the hands of Hunters, but through a variety of circumstances). Some experiments included inventions that could block out the sun and give eternal darkness (a common theme in vampire lore).

The Dracula of Castlevania seems as much inspired by Bram Stoker’s creation and the historical Vlad Tepes as he was by Vampire Hunter’s Sacred Ancestor.

If the Sacred Ancestor’s motivation was as ward and protector of his race, acting in various ways to save them and ensure their continued reign and existence then I would say Dracula’s motivation is similar: “spread his plague of darkness” by ensuring that the curse of night spreads and his people can remain powerful and eternal.

In Short

Both games present Dracula as a man who obtained power through unholy means. Walter Bernhard’s origins aren’t necessarily explained in the game and it’s possible that like Vampire Hunter D he is of a race of vampires older than humanity and Dracula simply is just a man using his power as his own. However I feel Dracula’s motivation may still be similar to that of the Sacred Ancestor from VH: with great power comes great responsibility (thanks Ben!) and his duty is to protect and allow his people to thrive in a world hellbent on destroying them.

[asleeponelmstreet]

Burnt (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3

Charlie takes you to a show, and you are confronted by your past.

Tags: Alastor x female reader, Blitzø x female reader, eventual smut, lots of angst, panic attacks, drug use, Charlie and Angel Dust being the best friends a reader could ask for

wc: 3,244

This takes place after S1 of Hazbin Hotel and before Helluva Boss S2 E7 Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special. I don't know if that timeline is canon, but it's what works for my story so that's what I'm doing.

You can also read this on AO3 here if you'd prefer.

Minors DNI!!!

Fuck.

This was not fucking happening.

Your muscles stiffened the moment you stepped outside of the bright pink limousine that took Charlie and you to the show. A tingling sensation crawled up the tips of your fingers as you realized the mistake you had made, not asking the princess who you were seeing in the first place. Now you found yourself facing a grand concert hall adorned with a gigantic banner for the most famous clown in all the seven rings of Hell, the great Fizzarolli.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him plastered on every available surface in the general vicinity. It had been impossible to ignore one of the most well-known faces in Hell, but you did your best to shove down all the emotions that just the mention of his name evoked from you. But here, surrounded by all these pictures of your long-lost friend, it was just too much.

A high-pitched ringing filled your ears, drowning out all the noise of the city as well as your heartbeat thrumming in your chest. After thanking the driver, Charlie grabbed your hand and pulled you towards a side door away from the main entrance. You let her tug you along, not trusting your own feet to carry your weight. You could vaguely hear her say, “Being the princess of Hell comes with some perks” through the buzzing in your ears.

She led you up a small flight of stairs, into an elevator that sped towards the top floor and through a doorway guarded by security and a red velvet rope. The whole time you wracked your brain for a way out, but you came up with nothing. Your mind was about as useless as soup, alphabet soup. The letters only came together to form self-hating words and phrases that were not helpful right now: Idiot. You should have known better. Coward. This is on you. Traitor. It’s all my fault. That last one is the only one not in your own cruel voice.

The room you found yourself in was elegant, almost entirely built of glass walls along with an open front window facing the stage. If you weren’t brimming with dread and starting to feel a bit nauseous, you would be giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing a live performance from these luxurious box seats, fit for demon royalty. Growing up an imp from a poor family, you never dreamt of being somewhere like this – getting to see how the other half lives.

Velvet couches faced the stage with a few cocktail tables brimming with finger foods interspersed throughout the room. A fully stocked bar took up the back wall, complete with a bartender who didn’t appear to be drinking (or sleeping) on the job. A part of you wished Husk was behind the bar instead to bring some much needed comfort from your new life into this blast from the past. “Soooo what do you think? Isn’t it amazing?!” Charlie asked excitedly, waving her hands around as if she couldn’t keep her happiness to just her beaming smile.

Someone else entered the room before you could answer saving you for a few more moments. You didn’t know how it was possible, but Charlie’s face lit up even more when she saw them. “Uncle Ozzie!” she practically screamed as you turned to face the person who had joined you in what you had thought was a private space. You would have recognized him even if Charlie hadn’t said the name – though, you didn’t know him personally. Asmodeus, the King of Lust.

Your friend did a running jump into his arms, wrapping him in a great big bear hug. He reciprocated the tight embrace, planting a chaste kiss on the top of her blonde head before settling back down on the floor as if she were a child and not the tall, lanky thing before you.

“It’s always a pleasure to receive one of your strangling hugs Charlie.” His voice was as deep and smooth as you imagined the finest bourbon. “I’m so glad you finally made it to one of Fizz’s shows! How’s that dear old dad of yours? Haven’t seen him in quite a while.”

Charlie talked with THE embodiment of Lust as if he was a close family friend, but your mind wouldn’t let go of the familiarity in which he said Fizz’s name. You knew at that moment that the gossip columns you tried your best to avoid were right. Hell’s worst-kept secret was true. The powerful demon had a much more intimate relationship with your old friend than just working together on the popular sexbots made in Fizz’s image.

“Forgive me, I should introduce you two,” Charlie said. At the mention of your name, you thought you saw something — maybe a flicker of recognition in his eyes. You wondered if Fizz told him about you. But you quickly pushed the thought away, not wanting to think of what he would have revealed to the powerful demon now standing before you.

The show was about to begin, and Asmodeus motioned to you two to join him on the couch. You complied, but you were still on edge, trying to decide the best way to get out of this situation without offending Charlie who so sweetly invited you out tonight.

After all these years apart, you were about to see Fizz perform with his secret beau sitting only a princess of Hell away. You tried to ignore him, the way he looked at you as if you were a puzzle to be solved. Looking out into the crowd below was worse. Fans decked in merchandise featuring Fizz’s name and likeness filled the seats. They were screaming his name, cheering him on even before he appeared on stage. Some of the freaks were even debauching their sexbots right there in the crowd.

It was still hard to think of all the freaks who had their hands on him (even robot versions of him) since the last time you touched him. The overt sexualization of Fizz made you feel even sicker than you were before if that was even possible. You had seen it all before, but only in small doses. You even came across several of his robot clones throughout the years but did your best to steer clear of them at all costs. If you ever did, you had to remind yourself repeatedly that it wasn’t him – even if the RoboFizzs looked identical in every way.

But he was everywhere here. His name, his face, his fucking body. His body. Just thinking about what the fire did to his body made bile rise in your throat. And what they did and are probably still doing to his body today. The room started to spin the more you got lost in your thoughts, you gripped the armrests to ground yourself. That’s when you noticed Asmodeus eying your nails digging into the supple velvet.

The curtains parted and his small figure appeared center stage. Your stomach lurched and you felt tears coming. Damn, you’ve already cried so much today. You didn’t think your ego could handle it anymore. But it was too much. His arms and legs stretched out to unnatural lengths as he said something, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the roaring crowd. That’s it. I’m out of here, you thought. “I’m going to the bathroom,” you ran towards the door cradling your stomach. Charlie jumped up to show you the way, you assumed, but you bolted towards the door before she could catch up to you.

Once you locked yourself in the bathroom stall, you fell forward releasing the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. It burned – probably from the hot sauce – and tears stuck tufts of your hair to your forehead. You tried to pull at your hair to keep it from falling into the bowl as you retched, but it was no use. You were a mess.

The knock at the stall door didn’t startle you. You knew who it was. “You know there’s a private bathroom a bit closer to our seats…” she paused as if reconsidering what to say. “Can I help you?” You gave in because damn you really did need help. You fumbled at the lock on the door until it opened, and she was down on the floor by your side.

“I can hold your hair back for you,” and with that, she took the ribbon from her hair and tied it around your own. Even with it tied back she gently held your hair keeping it from falling over your shoulders as you continued to throw up.

Once your stomach was emptied of everything that you had eaten that day, you lay your head against the wall and let yourself cry. “I’m sorry you’re missing the show,” you choked out.

“Shh, it’s okay. I can come back any time,” she cooed. She took your hands in hers and just held them in silence as you continued your embarrassing meltdown. After a few minutes, she asked, “Do you think it’s something you ate?”

“No—uh, yeah. Maybe?” You said, shaking your head. You just blew your best excuse. Why hadn’t you thought about feigning sickness? Probably because your brain was just about as functioning as that summer when you spent all your earnings on heroin and horse tranquilizers. That would be preferred to how you were feeling right now.

Charlie moved in closer to your side, wrapping your shaking body up in her long limbs and rubbing soothing circles into your sore muscles. “Would it help to talk about it?” she asked. “If you don’t want to, I understand. I can tell you’re holding a lot in. But if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.”

You were so used to holding it all in. Holding it all back. Her comforting presence made you think that if you opened up just a bit, it may provide some relief. But you wouldn’t crack, you knew better. If you told her everything, she would never look at you the same way again. You couldn’t lose her or the hotel. They were the only things that gave your life a purpose anymore. “I’m not ready,” you said. She didn’t frown or let disappointment show on her face, but you imagined that she expected you to open up. She lived for those sappy heart-to-heart conversations that you avoided at all costs.

Charlie sat with you on the floor of the bathroom in silence until you were ready to leave. She explained that she just needed to say goodbye to Asmodeus and then the two of you could go back to the hotel.

Once you were back in the private room, you hung back while she told him you weren’t feeling well. Charlie had done a good job at helping you fix up your makeup and hair in the bathroom, but you knew the demon of lust didn’t have to be very perceptive to know why you had missed the start of the performance.

Before you could escape the door, his eyes locked with yours. His gaze startingly soft. “Charlie has my number if you would ever like to see Fizz. I can speak with him.” He danced around it as if not wanting to reveal anything, but you knew. The fact that he said see and not meet. He knew something and this was an invitation.

The ride back was silent as stared out the back window, thinking about what Asmodeus said the whole way home. What did it mean really? Was there a possibility that Fizz didn’t hate you? Or that he could forgive you? You couldn’t even begin to wrap your mind around it.

You walked into the hotel lobby, expecting to have to make up an excuse for why you were back hours early. Luckily, it was just Husk asleep with a half-empty bottle of liquor behind the bar. Charlie pulled you in for one last hug, reminding you that if you needed anything she would be there before the two of you went your separate ways.

Once you were in the privacy of your room, you slumped on your newly made bed. You didn’t bother to bathe or change before you curled up into a ball. You wouldn’t cry, you couldn’t. You had already shed more tears today than you had in your entire life. More than after the fire. More than when you learned your parents died. More than when Fizz refused to see you. More than when he left.

Sleep didn’t come. No matter how many times you tried to empty your mind of all the thoughts clouding it. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the darkness behind your eyelids gave way to Fizz’s face. Seeing it plastered on every poster in the concert hall and briefly on stage before you made a run for the bathroom brought back so many memories. His little head tossed back in a fit of giggles, that smirk he threw your way amid a round of applause and those wide eyes full of hope before you turned your back on him.

After tossing and turning in bed for over an hour, you gave up. You tiptoed to your dresser where you found your hidden stash in your underwear drawer. Sitting astride the open windowsill that looked out on Pentagram City, you thought about how you found comfort in the place you least expected.

As you exhaled smoke, the tension in your body released a little. A few more inhales silenced your unquiet mind, letting you focus on the better parts of the day. Like Angel rushing to your side in the morning. And how kind it was of Charlie to invite you out in the first place. And was that a compliment you received from Alastor – of all the sinners in Hell? That overlord may have come from Earth, but the stories about his reign of terror preceded him.

A soft knock at your door had you scrambling to put your joint out and hide it along with the rest of your stash behind a curtain. Probably not the smartest move, but you weren’t exactly thinking clearly.

The door creaked open, and the top of Angel’s head peaked into your room, “It’s just me. Don’t worry the fun police is fast asleep.” You sighed in relief. Though you had a feeling Charlie would have been a bit more understanding of your rule-breaking after the day you had. “Is that fuckin’ grass, babe? What are we in the fourth grade?” the spider teased.

“It helps with the nausea… and my nerves,” you said tossing your hair out of your face before relighting what was left of your joint. You motioned for him to join you if he wanted. Though, you had a feeling he would have preferred some of his namesake or at least some Devil’s Dandruff as Charlie liked to call it.

For all that teasing, the porn demon still didn’t refuse a high. Angel joined you on the windowsill and took what was left of the joint you offered him as you lit another. “I saw Charlie earlier,” he said slowly between puffs as if he was trying not to rile a rabid animal. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Yeah, some.” You mumbled, perfectly content with smoking in silence but also not hating the company. Angel looked out at the skyline, gazing over all the bright glittering lights from all the buildings filled with sinners who never seemed to sleep.

“Why did you come here?” He asked. “You could’ve gone anywhere in Hell, but you moved to this tacky-ass hotel.” You smiled, knowing it was all a façade. Maybe he crashed at the hotel for a free rent at first but since you’ve gotten to know him, you knew he cared about it, about Charlie and her dream of redeeming sinners. “We don’t even know if sinners can get into Heaven.”

“I know there’s no way for imps to get into Heaven. That’s not why I’m here.” You let out a sigh. “But there are other ways to redeem yourself even if you’re not getting anything out of it.”

“Isn’t that the whole point of redemption?” Your immediate thought was no, but you did technically want redemption for selfish reasons even if they weren’t the same as his.

“I guess, but I’m not trying to get into heaven. I just wanted to help, and I thought it might help me find some relief.”

“Relief from what?”

“All the guilt.” You looked down at your lap, knowing it sounded stupid.

Angel cackled. “What do you have to be guilty of? You’re a fucking demon.”

“Well, I’ve killed more than I can count.”

“Ha! Haven’t we all?”

“True. And I don’t feel guilty for most of it.”

“Then, what is it?”

Although the conversation was getting a bit too serious for your liking, you felt like you owed him some truth. “I hurt the people I love. And even after losing everything, I keep doing it over and over again.”

Angel’s expression grew serious, and he thought for a moment before speaking. “We all do that. It comes with the territory.”

“No, you don’t understand.” You looked away from him. “It’s different.”

“Everyone thinks they’re different, hon. You’re not special.”

“I guess.” You pouted, wanting this conversation to be over. Maybe you could change the subject to something else. “Alastor complimented me today…” You noticed the time on the alarm clock beside your bed. “Or I guess, yesterday.”

“Al complimented you?! Didn’t know he had it in him. Are you sure he wasn’t sizing you up for a meal? What’d he say?”

“He said I looked absolutely divine,” you used your best impression of the radio demon when saying those two words.

“Oh, yeah. He totally wants to eat you.” You giggled, but Angel went on. “And not in a sexy way. I don’t think he’s interested. I would know because he keeps turning me down. Me!”

“Maybe he plays for another team,” you mused.

“Or he doesn’t even play the game at all. Because anyone would be all over this.” He emphasized his point by motioning to his body and doing a slutty little hip thrust that almost shifted him out the window. You grabbed him by the shoulders to make sure he didn’t fall as you tried to contain your laughter.

“You’re right. Anyone who refuses you is out of their mind!” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, don’t mock me. You know it’s true. I’m surprised we haven’t hooked up yet.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I like you too much, Angie. I haven’t had a real friend in a long time, and I wouldn’t want to ruin it.” You also had a feeling he’d much rather be fucking Husk or Al than messing around with you.

“Why would it ruin it?” He leaned into you seductively, close enough that your lips were almost touching. “C’mon, it’d be hot,” he purred.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,” you crooned. “Maybe someday, but not today.” You could see it being fun, but that’s all it would be. And although you weren’t a saint, you tried to avoid those kinds of situations now.

You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, wondering if Angel knew how much you needed this distraction.

Thank you so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. I know Alastor isn't in this chapter but he'll be back, I promise. And if you're patiently waiting for Blitzø, don't worry I am too. I had to post this so I would stop worrying about it and finally be able to focus on the next part. It may have a little bit of spice. But shhhh... you didn't hear that from me.

tag list: @sirens-and-moonflowers @whoknowswhoiamtoday y'all literally made my week, thank you <3