#I care about characters that were mentioned in like one sentence in canon

[bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell]

I need to know if anyone in the marauders fandom is still out there…pls contact me I can’t go through this obscure obsession alone

[tsukimefuku]

blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento

summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.

tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 

wc: 7.5k

notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.

writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).

disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.

oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?

It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.

Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.

During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.

One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 

"Are you certain it was him?"

"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."

"And how many students did he…"

"Two students from Kyoto."

Your head instantly felt dizzy.

"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."

"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.

 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"

Gojo was silent for a few moments.

"Hey…"

"Tell me. I can take it."

After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.

"Yes. It will."

Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.

For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.

"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."

"Of course."

Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.

He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.

There had been a few casualties, though.

Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.

Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.

To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 

That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.

They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.

Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 

Help was late to arrive.

They were too late for Haibara.

And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.

The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”

At least

There is a body 

To be buried

Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?

In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.

You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.

Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.

In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 

In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.

His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.

He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.

"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.

"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."

"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.

As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 

You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.

"Precisely."

"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."

You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.

For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.

His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.

Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.

Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.

You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.

Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.

"Why did you do it?"

Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.

"It was a necessary means to an end."

His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.

You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.

"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"

"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."

"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"

Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.

"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."

You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.

"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"

He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 

"Don't say his name."

Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.

But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.

This wasn't the case now.

Not entirely, at least.

"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.

"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."

"I'm not a would've been!"

You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 

You finally understood you were in love with him.

Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.

However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.

That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.

After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.

At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.

Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.

It felt like a promise.

Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.

What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.

What a cruel irony.

"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.

"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.

What a fucking low blow.

"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"

You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.

He diverted his gaze back to the window.

"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 

Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.

"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"

"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"

Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.

It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.

And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.

The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.

According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.

And you weren't there.

Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 

The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 

That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.

Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.

You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.

This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?

We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?

Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.

"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."

He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.

"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."

By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.

"The hell I did!"

You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.

"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."

"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."

You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.

"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 

Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.

"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."

He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.

"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."

"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.

"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"

"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."

Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.

"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."

In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.

However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.

Your own body held you back from taking his life.

He didn't seem to notice.

Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.

"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.

"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.

"You were never the practical one."

You scoffed.

"Guess I learned something from you."

He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 

Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.

You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 

Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.

The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.

You were cornered.

This is it.

You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.

Precise, just as he was.

Deadly, just as he was, too.

You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.

This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.

However, the impact never came.

His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 

“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.

“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 

“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”

You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.

“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 

He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.

“I hate you as well.”

For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 

The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.

"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."

His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.

"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.

"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.

Just fucking kill me already.

His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?

Did he hate you that much?

His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 

His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.

You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.

When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.

"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.

"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.

He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.

You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.

"What?"

You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.

"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.

His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.

Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.

I should be over her by now, dammit.

Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.

You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.

The way he'd cup your face in his hands.

 So delicate, so lovely.

This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.

"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.

He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.

He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.

You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.

"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.

"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.

His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.

In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.

A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.

You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 

Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.

This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.

He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.

Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.

His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.

"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."

You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.

"Go fuck yours-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.

He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.

"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.

His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.

He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."

You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.

"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.

"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 

Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.

You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.

With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.

“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”

His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.

To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.

Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.

“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.

He couldn't help it.

Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.

He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 

Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.

In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.

Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.

He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.

Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.

You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.

Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.

You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.

If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.

“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”

You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.

After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.

You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.

For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.

With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.

“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 

“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.

But it couldn’t.

You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.

And wouldn’t go now, either.

That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.

Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.

“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.

You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.

Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.

His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.

After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.

You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.

You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.

In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.

But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.

He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 

Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.

You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 

Good riddance to me, I suppose.

His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.

He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.

“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 

You could kiss him like this forever. 

You actually wanted to, at that moment.

To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 

Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.

Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.

You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.

Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.

Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.

Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.

Just like you were.

And just like Nanami was.

You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.

“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.

You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.

“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”

For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.

The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.

“Why?”

“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”

He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.

Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.

“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.

“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”

He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.

With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 

“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”

For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”

Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.

He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.

You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.

But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.

Not with him, but with the people he had killed.

Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.

It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 

In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.

The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.

With a decade’s old delay.

“I… just can’t. I can’t.”

Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 

He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.

He felt pathetically small.

Guess we get what we deserve, after all.

“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.

You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.

“Go to hell.”

He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.

Sad.

“We’re already here.” 

At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.

You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.

If only the world had been a little kinder.

But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.

End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉

-

Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000

@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa

@codenamesongbird

[laroserie]

— characters : Alastor, + the hotels residents (vague mention - expect for Charlie)

— content : x gender neutral reader - reader is a baker, reader is naive (for a sinner), Alastor manipulate reader into coming to the hotel, Alastor is Alastor but he's also OOC (kinda but uh who write canon Alastor anyways)

— author note : this is the second part of an (potentially yandere!) alastor x baker reader - the first part is here (also the words count is : 1.7k ) (saying that because i outdid myself lol) (also yes i know Alastor canonically do not like tea idc this mf is gonna drink tea) ++ honestly considering doing a third part because I have so much more to say and write about this

After Alastor came back from his seven years hiatus and he came for at your bakery again, he could come so often, like once every two days.

But it could take him a while to make a 'move', try to get closer to you or talk to you about the hotel but one day, he comes to your bakery and asks for an unusual amount of pastries. You don't comment on it as it's not your place - you are just a simple baker ! But you can't help but raise an eyebrow.

Alastor meant to talk to you about the hotel, not because he wanted you to reedem yourself or because he wanted to do it for Charlie - well maybe a little but he won't admit it - but more or less to keep an eye on you. By then, he isn't sure as to why he wants to keep an eye on you - his assumption is that he feels the same way toward you as he does toward Rosie. He sees you as a friend but not quite - you are the sweet baker who makes quite good pastries and you are by far one of the less annoying sinners he ever spoke to. But he feels some kind of protectiveness over you - probably because he sees you as quite meek and weak.

So obvious what could be better than inviting you to stay at the hotel ? A place where he can both protect and keep on eye on you at -nearly- all time.

Alastor took this opportunity, 'These aren't all for me, dear. They are for ... my friends ?' he started while you were wrapping up what he purchased, 'You see ... Have you heard of the Hazbin Hotel ?' he asks.

'Uhm ... The hotel run by the princess ? Yeah I've seen a bit of talk about it, why ?'

'Well ! I am the facility manager of that, hotel ! And the ... pastries are for my fellows workers and residents.' He stopped for a second to gauge your reaction to that information - which was a simple nod and a 'ohh' - he continued. 'Hm, the goal of the hotel is to help sinners redeem themselves ... could you be by chance interested ?'

This question probably takes you by surprise. By then you already finished packing Alastor order - you push it toward him on the counter. You respond hesitantly 'Ha, well ... Is it possible ? To even redeem yourself ... ?' Your smile falter a bit and you look in the void for a bit. 'I don't think redemption is for me ... If I'm here it mean I deserve it and that it's already too late ...' Alastor didn't fully expect you to react like this - he did expect that you could say 'no' at first but not that.

'But ! Anyways, there is your order, enjoy !' You said trying to end the conversation there. But alas Alastor was not the type to give up so easily.

He took his order but continued on, 'If you couldn't mind dear, please just come and visit once, to be truthful, we haven't had a whole lot of sinners coming, you just simply visiting could be wonderful, and you could help bring Charlie mood up, oh and you both could get along so well !' As he finished his sentence he turned and walked toward the door and threw you a 'Goodbye!'.

Alastor knew you enough to know that he could pull at your heart strings to get what he wanted - you were always the sensitive type, the type to care even about strangers. He was sure that he could see you 'visit' in the near future.

And well he was right ! A mere three days after you found yourself at the doorstep of the hotel. You had been waiting for a few minutes already - you were still debating on entering or just turning on your hells and going back home.

But before you could do anything the hotel door in front of you opened in a big 'slam'. And once again before you could do anything, you were dragged into the hotel in a very enthusiastic manner.

'Hello !! Are you interested in the hotel ?' A cheerful voice asked you, as she dragged you into the hall, you recognised quite easily who is was - the owner of the hotel - Charlie Morningstar. It wasn't your first time seeing her, but it was your first time seeing her up close. You had to restrain a laugh at her over-enthusiasm, you didn't want be irrespectful toward the princess of hell.

'Good morning, I am simply visiting as it was recommended by ... a friend of mine.' You saw her be a bit disappointed hearing that. 'Oh. Is there anyways you could I don't know change your mind ? Maaaaybe ?' She asked.

You a small smile appeared on your face 'Maybe. If your convincing is good enough.'

Charlie took it as a challenge, she started by showing you around the hotel, and then made you meet the residents - you spoke a bit with everyone - at the exception of Alastor how was visiting his friend in Cannibal Town. To say you were surprised knowing that the two sole residents of the hotel were one of the biggest pornstar of hell and somekind of mad inventor could be an understatement. The staff of the hotel was also something - you knew already Niffty and Husk having heard about them from Alastor and you saw and spoke with Husk a few times when he picked up orders at your bakery for Alastor. And then there was Vaggie, she seemed to be quite suspicious of you and it feel like she could gut you out as soon as you do something wrong.

By the end of the day, Charlie asked you once again if you wanted to join the hotel - you struggled to answer her - a part of you seriously started to consider joining the hotel and trying to get redeem but the other one was still wary of the idea.

But you asked her if you could come every once in a while to visit and she was overjoyed by it - you didn't join the hotel but it was still an advances to have someone visit the hotel.

You did end up visiting the hotel a lot - at some point you could come once a week - you ended up befriending most people from the hotel.

One of those day, most of the hotel residents were out - only Alastor and Niffty were at the hotel. Niffty was running around chasing cockroachs - you were having tea with Alastor.

Alastor had finally decided to move to the next steps of his plan - to have you under his grip. He started by asking you a few questions about how you felt about the hotel.

'I told you, you could get along with Charlie !' You nodded as you sipped on a cup of tea. 'Are you thinking of joining the hotel officially ?' You sighed and shake your head, 'Alastor, you already know my answer ...'

'Are you sure dear ? I truly think it could be beneficial for you to join.' He persisted. 'But, I have a bakery to run, I, I have responsibility.'

'You can continue to run your bakery while being a resident here darling ! Honestly, why don't you want to ? Please don't tell me you seriously believe you cannot be redeem, we all know that it's not true. You by far one of the most ... redeemable sinner there is' Alastor tone of voice was serious - the atmosphere shifted and suddenly the way you were sitting became uncomfortable. 'Alastor please ... Don't.' You managed to utter, your looked down at the cup between your hands.

'What, I am simply saying the truth. I am just asking you to enlighten me as to why you don't think you should at least try to redeem yourself and join heaven.' You looked up to see Alastor with his usual smile plastered on his face - it felt wrong, you felt yourself crack. 'There is no real reasons to be frank, I just know that it's not possible, that it's not right ...'

Alastor shacks his head, 'If you don't do it for yourself please do it for Charlie, you both are dear friends now right ? Couldn't you like to make her happy by becoming a resident and attempting to cleanse yourself of your sins ? Ah, it could even make me happy ...' He pulled out the last card in his deck - once again he knew that playing with your feelings could be the easiest way to get you to stay - and so he did.

He could see you hesitate a bit, 'Are you sure ...? What if she learn that I don't believe in it truly ? I do not wish to be hypocritical ... isn't that a sin itself ?' Alastor laughed a little hearing you, 'You shouldn't worry about that darling. The important thing is the end result - not how you got it. Who cares if you aren't honest ? And if it's stay between the two of us, Charlie will never know.' You took a few minutes to think - weighting the pros and cons.

You sighed and nodded your head, 'Sure, I mean what could go wrong ... ha.'. Alastor smiles 'Exactly dear !', he took a sip of tea, 'Now, shall we do the paperwork now ?', he didn't wait for an answer and just pulled out a stack of papers and a pen out of Satan know here and slided them toward you.

You didn't brother to question him and just took the pen in hand, 'Do I really need to read all of that ?' you said pointing to the small toward of papers in front of you, 'Oh of course no, it's just good 'ol paperwork, you don't need to read anything ! Just sign the bottom of each pages and ... we should be good.' you probably didn't notice the way his smiles twisted as he uttered those words or if you did you just preferred to not question it.

Looking back you probably should have - it could have saved you from the collar and leash attached to your neck and the overall pain that was having your soul being owned by Alastor - with the added layer of being a full time resident of the hotel.

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 5/5

Author’s Note: Hi! I've put these two through enough. It's still sad, but the ending makes up for it, I hope! Enjoy!

Summary: Out of the hospital and on the mend, you finally make your way to Clinton Church to try and make sense of the grief for the man you loved who has been out of your life for ten years.

Warnings: Angst, grief, PTSD, unresolved feelings, canon-typical violence, wound recovery (reference to pain from wound/surgery, reader is using a cane in recovery), recounting of the end of The Defenders/Season 3 DD, emotional damage, absent parents/friends, mentions of death, fear of loss, reconnection, fluff, hopeful ending

Other Characters: Father Lantom, Sister Maggie

Word Count: 3,162

You hum in pain as you sit down in the pew, the short walk taking a lot out of you. It smells like incense and old wood, and you can hear everything both in and out of the church from where you sit, the echos loud and all-consuming. You wonder if this is what Matt felt like all the time—hearing sounds reverberate and echo like church bells in the mountains, never finding a moment of quiet or solitude, condemned to listen to everything all the time. Never knowing peace.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” you breathe into the empty church after a few minutes. “I hoped you’d give me a nudge in the right direction if I came here. I know what this place meant to you. I . . . I’d like a sign.” You look up to the ceiling, looking at the images staring unblinking down on you before closing your eyes and hanging you head. Why are you even trying? What does it even matter? Matt’s gone—he was long gone a decade ago.

“New to the city?” a new, older voice says. You look over, seeing a man in all black approach you down the aisle. “Or in need of some guidance?”

“I needed somewhere quiet,” you admit with a sigh as the elderly priest sits down next to you. “I needed a way to try and find peace. The last few months . . . they have been too much to bear.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If it helps, I’m a friendly ear that’s willing to listen. At least you’ll be able to get it off your chest. Sometimes, that’s half of the battle, just letting it out,” the priest says. Father Lantom. You remember him from when you came with Matt to a service one Christmas and a few other times.

You dip your head and let out a sigh. “About a year ago, my husband passed away. It was . . . fast. Unexpected. He didn’t suffer.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The worst part was, I didn’t feel sad like someone should when their spouse passes away. I was sad, but . . .” You let out a long sigh and tilt your head back. “He was good to me. Kind. He cared. But it wasn’t love, at least not the kind of love that should lead two people to get married. But I got through it. And then a few months ago—.” You wipe away your tears and sniffle. “This was his church. I went with him a few times when we were in college together.”

“Who? Your husband?” 

“No, an old friend.”

“I’ve been here for a long time. I’m pretty good with names and faces. I think it’s because I’ve got a connection upstairs.”

You give a small smile at his joke. “His name was Matt. Matt Murdock.” You wipe away a tear. “I was in an accident, and I was in the hospital when he died.”

The priest lets out a long, low sigh. “Do you mind me asking how he passed?”

“That building that went down, Midland Circle? I guess he was around it, got crushed under the debris. Matt and I, um . . . We lost touch for about ten years, and then by chance he came back shortly before my accident and before he . . .” You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. It doesn’t sound right saying that he’s dead—it coats your mouth with a bitter taste. But why? You shouldn’t feel like this. He left, he completely cut you out. You tried to get in touch, but he still walked out of your life like everyone else. But yet you still have this feeling. “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, when he ghosted me in law school. I guess that some part of me always held out hope that he’d come back. At some point, I made peace with it—that our lives took us down separate roads, that it was probably the best for the both of us. But seeing him a few months ago dredged up feelings and reminded me of how happy I was with him, having him in my life, and how unhappy I am right now. How unhappy I’ve been for a long time. And now he’s not even around to help me sort through all these feelings—he’s the reason they’re all swirling around now, it’s only fair he help settle them. And he had the gall to die.”

You don’t realize that you’re crying with your voice raised and body shaking until the old priest hands you a bag of to-go Kleenex. You open them, wiping away your tears, desperately trying to collect yourself. You’re not supposed to behave this way, your parents taught you better, but you just can’t help it; you’ve never been able to act rationally or control your emotions how you were taught to when it came to Matt. And that’s how you know you really, truly loved him.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” you croak. “I’ve already lost my husband. And now I’ve lost the first man I’ve ever loved. None of it makes sense. None of it feels right. There wasn’t even a funeral. A-A-And now I’m here feeling hurt and abandoned by the only person who I felt saw me for who I was, not who he wanted, begging for there to be a way to bring him back. To take me instead. For me to feel something . . . because now I feel like the same lost girl finishing law school.”

“Grief and loss . . .” Father Lantom lets out a sigh. “There’s no easy way to go about it. Saying that everything happens for a reason or that it’s all part of God’s plan doesn’t always help, either. Sometimes, things just happen. And it really sucks sometimes. But every time we go through it, we become stronger. That doesn’t mean we can’t feel sad at everything that could have been, though. How things could have turned out differently if not for one thing.”

“Your connection with the Big Guy upstairs can’t give me insight when this hurt will stop, can it?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he sighs. 

“I figured I’d at least try.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“(Y/N),” you say, extending your hand for him to shake.

“(Y/N), do you have a moment to spare? I think there’s something that you should see. It might help with this grief you’re feeling.”

“Oh, I—.”

“Please.”

The sincerity in his voice gets to you, and you give him a gentle nod. He helps you stand with your cane, holding onto you to keep you upright and steady as he can tell walking is still a rather tender movement. You both slowly make your way down the basement steps, the sound of your shoes echoing against the stone.

“Stay here for just a moment, please,” he whispers with a gently hand on your shoulder.  “I need to confirm that what I want to show you is actually still here.”

“O-Okay,” you say, confused and concerned. How could something in this basement leave? It doesn’t exactly seem like a lively place; it’s cold, dark, and frankly, a little spooky. But from what you remember about Father Lantom, he only ever wants to help, so, whatever is down here must be worth it. Matt trusted him, put his faith in him. That’s enough for you.

“(Y/N)?” he calls after you softly as he come back to your side. “May I?”

He takes your hand and slowly leads you into the large, open room, light streaming in through small street level and stained-glass windows. There is nothing in the open space, and you turn to give the elderly priest a questioning look as he starts to move out of the basement. 

“F-Father, I—,” you start, but he raises a gentle hand. You turn back to facing front and you’re startled when you see someone step out from the shadows. You take a half step back, afraid of what is emerging, but a voice in your head tells you to relax. Despite what popular culture has told you about spooky basements, you listen to the voice in your head. He wouldn’t have brought you down here if it wasn’t safe. Walking closer to what looks like a makeshift bedroom, you carefully look around to see what is moving. It’s probably just a rat— you don’t think churches are exempt from New York City rats. But the next movement you see is decidedly larger than a rat.

“Matt?” you say, barely audible. It can’t be him. Foggy said he died. Foggy wouldn’t have lied about that—the pain on his face was too real, too raw. A building—a full-on skyscraper—went down on him. But he’s here, right in front of you, real as ever. When Matt’s lifts his head, your heart nearly stops. It’s him. Beaten, bruised, and a scraped up, but it’s him. It’s Matty. “No . . . What?”

“(Y/N/N),” he breathes, groaning in pain as he stands and walks toward you. The silence is deafening as your heart races in your chest, and it just doesn’t feel real. “It’s so good to . . . Are you okay?”

“N-No,” you whimper, your voice trembling as you drop your cane. “I-I . . . You’re alive. I thought you weren’t. Nobody does. I . . . I don’t know what to think or do.”

His hand reaches for yours, his calloused fingers brushing against the palm of your hand, his thumbs running against your knuckles. You want to yank them away— you don’t want to give him the luxury of holding onto you, but you just can’t pull back. Not when he’s here, not when he’s alive. “I . . . I thought I was going to die. I don’t know how I didn’t. I should have. I deserve to be dead.”

“How could you say that?” you murmur. 

“It’s how I feel. People would be better off that way. No one needs me. You don’t need me. You were better off without me, both in Columbia and a few months ago. I’m the one that brought you pain.” 

“Matt, I do need you. No one understands what happened on the roof. They tell me it’s going to take time, it’ll get better, but it doesn’t. I keep having these nightmares. They’re all from that night. Sometimes it’s just me reliving the memory, other times, our roles were reversed—me standing on the other side of the roof, you kneeling on the ground with a sword to you . . . watching a blade cutting through your stomach, hearing you cry out in pain, holding you in my arms . . .” You sniffle and wipe away tears. “Why’d you disappear?” you whine. “Why’d you leave me?”

“I almost got you killed,” he breathes, his voice low and gravely with emotion. “I had to.”

“No, Matt. Why’d you leave me in law school?” His face is one that looks similar to a scared child, fragile and anxious. “We were so close. And then one day you were just gone. I know you were with her, but, why couldn’t you keep me in your life? A call, a note, something. Anything. Why’d you have to leave?”

“I . . . It just happened. A door opened to a life I never thought of, one where it all seemed easier. It was a chance to forget all the baggage, all the pain and trauma from my past. After everything, it sounded nice. And it was, for a while.”

“Matt . . .”

“She died that night on the roof,” he swallows. “I mean, I thought she did. But s-she actually is now, and . . . She was so involved in everything that happened months ago, and you almost died because they grabbed you just because they saw us talking. I felt like I was poison. I am poison.”

You hold back tears, running your fingers through his hair. “You were the air in my lungs at Columbia,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “It was so much harder to breathe when you weren’t around.”

“But you survived.“

“I was unhappy. 

“You survived.”

“Surviving isn’t the same as living.”

“You weren’t hurt. You didn’t have a sword sticking through you. You were safe far away from me.”

“I wasn’t me. I only ever felt like me when I was with you and Foggy. Without that in my life . . . I was a pawn in a game of the wealthy. Foggy, you . . . you only ever wanted me.”

“I did. But I’m not what you deserve. I’m damaged goods.”

“No you are not,” you say sternly. “Yes, you’ve been through things, but you are not damaged, Matty.”

He closes his eyes, letting out a long breath while tears roll down his cheeks. “You were the first and last person to call me Matty after my dad died. It always made me so happy to hear you say it.”

You're crying with him now, and you don’t care that it hurts your wound. “You were the first person to call me (Y/N/N)—you’re the only person to call me (Y/N/N). I mean, besides Foggy, but . . . It makes me feel like myself. Just me. No expectations to live up to, no labels attached.” You sniffle, swallowing hard to keep it all together. “My husband didn’t even call me (Y/N/N). It was always my full name or the abbreviated version my parents use for me, and I couldn’t stand it. The formality, the rules, the masks—it made me feel like I was a child again getting told what to do at a function, getting scolded for not behaving how an Upper East Side daughter should.”

Matt lets out a wet chuckle as he rests his forehead against yours. “Do you remember when that happened in Intro to Constitutional Law? I thought you were going to jump up from your desk and deck the professor when they called you that.”

You both laugh at the memory, holding onto one another closely, basking in a touch neither of you ever thought you’d get to have again.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you breathe. “I’m not strong enough.”

“I don’t want to lose you either. But I don’t think your parents will care for you hanging with good-doing hooligans from Hell’s Kitchen. And if it’s not them that’ll pull us apart, it’ll be something else.”

“I honestly don’t care what my parents think anymore, or what anyone in their sphere thinks of me. They already had me. I’d like it if you had me now. If I could stay. The life I dreamed about, the one that we talked about at school, that’s the life I know I can have with you. I want that, and I want you.”

“(Y/N/N).” He lets out a sigh as he swallows hard, the muscle feathering in his jaw. "I hear your scream every night. It’s terrifying. It haunts me—it kills me. It’s the only thing I can hear, it’s louder than anything in the city.”

You wipe a tear from your own cheek. “Every time I close my eyes, I see the look on your face when you held me in your arms. I’ll never forget it.”

“My life is dangerous. What I do—.”

“I’m not looking for easy, I’m just looking for you. I just want you, Matt. I didn’t know how badly I did until I saw you at that event. I want to be in your life again. Any way you’ll let me, I want to be there.”

“I’d like that,” he breathes. “I can’t tell you how much, angel.”

“Then let me in, please.”

Tears stream down his face as he does his best to control his breathing. 

“I’m afraid,” he breaks. 

You give his hands a firm, reassuring squeeze. “I am, too. But if we have each other, we don’t have to be. Or, at least we don’t have to be afraid alone.”

“There’s this man, (Y/N/N).” He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “Until he’s taken care of, I can’t be close with anyone. If I am, they’ll be targets, they’ll get hurt. You’d get hurt, again, because of me. And I couldn’t live with that. I’d never forgive myself. Not that I forgave myself for letting you get hurt in the first place.”

“It’s not always on you. You don’t have to shoulder any of this alone.”

“I can’t lose you again.”

“Matty . . .”

He lets out a sigh, resting his forehead on yours. 

“It’s dangerous,” he repeats softly. 

“I know.” He nuzzled his nose against yours, desperate for more of your touch. “But I promise that everything will be alright. I’m not going anywhere. Okay? We can start back slow, but I’m not leaving you alone. It’ll take a lot more than dying—real or fake—to shake me.”

He nods lightly. “I promise I will do absolutely everything I can to keep you safe, and I swear there won’t be a day that I let pass without letting you know how much I care about you. I-I know that I messed up. I know. Leaving you, that was the biggest mistake of my life. But—.”

“When are you gonna stop apologizing and just kiss me? I think we’ve both waited long enough.”

He just smiles, closing the space between you so your lips finally meet in a soft kiss. You hum happily, sliding your hands around his waist, accidentally irritating an injury under his shirt. You gasp and pull back, just enough to look at his face. 

“Sorry,” you breathe.

“It’s okay,” he hums. “Occupational hazard.”

“Well, maybe I can help make it better.”

He smiles dreamily, giving you a gentle nod before leaning back in, only for the clearing of a throat to interrupt your embrace. Looking over, you see one of the nuns standing by the steps, and you're quick to create some space between yourself and Matt.

“Looks like things are starting to look up,” she hums. “I think that’s the first time he’s smiled since he got here. Can you get him to dress like he’s ready to rejoin the land of the living instead of skulking down here?”

“Well, I can only do so much,” you respond, blushing deeply, taking your hands off Matt’s torso. “Lead a horse to water, and all.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice—especially with this one. Stubborn as a mule.”

You turn back to Matt. “I’m glad you’re not dead, but don’t you dare disappear on me again.”

“I won’t. I promise. When all of this is over, the first place I’m going is into your arms. And this time, I’m not leaving.”

You press a kiss to his cheek, giving him a small smile. “You better.”

Matt leans in for one more kiss on your lips. “It’s a guarantee, sweetheart.”

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[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  Pricklywhicket/@messessentialist ! Prickleywhicket has four fics published to AO3 -- All in the Steddie tag!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by pricklywhicket:

so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey

it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)

start by pulling him out of the fire

"Sadie is so super talented in the way she describes literally everything. She is so good at writing and it's a shame that she's flown under the radar because she's not the quickest at putting things out there." -- Anonymous

Below the cut, Pricklywhicket answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

Why do any of us write anything? Because we want the story to exist in the world, and it doesn’t yet, so we gotta hike up our pants and do it ourselves!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hurt/Comfort. I’m always a sucker for the blorbos taking care of one another, in whatever form that takes. This has always been true, across a truly astronomical number of fandoms I’ve found myself dabbling in over the years.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

…actually, probably hurt/comfort! I just need to get those little dudes some validation and unconditional positive regard, okay?

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

I’m sure I won’t be the first one to say this, but: I HAVE TO PICK ONE????? Okay, alright. I can do this. I’m gonna say…Sanctuary by SpicedSage.

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

I’ve only written canon or canon-adjacent fic so far, so I’m eager to work on something that’s completely AU. I think there’s a unique challenge to keeping characters recognizable as themselves in a world that might not have all the same contexts that made them into that person.

What is your writing process like?

I would love to say it’s super organized and well-planned, but the truth is it’s mostly about routine and responsibility. I set aside time to do it every day, even if I can only tap out a few sentences. I’m not very strict about writing in a straight line - I can stop a scene if it’s giving me trouble, write a note about what I think happens in some [brackets], and move on to something that I have more fully fleshed-out ideas for. Sometimes writing the next scene helps you know more about what needs to happen in the current one. 

Do you have any writing quirks?

I'm sure my betas would say yes 🙃 I tend to write a lot of dialogue - a lot of my revision process is going back through and realizing I have two pages of a conversation with no indication of what’s physically happening in the world around the speakers.

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

Definitely when I’m finished. Prior to my ‘23 bang fic, I had never written anything chaptered. I knew going in that I could NOT start posting if it wasn’t finished, because I’ve been burned too many times by abandoned works. I didn’t want to do that to people reading my fic, and the best way to avoid it is to finish before you post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Easily start by pulling him out of the fire. The biggest, most ambitious thing I’ve ever attempted - I still kind of can’t believe I wrote 85k.

How did you get the idea for start by pulling him out of the fire?

Like most terrible ideas, it was spawned in a fandom discord chat. We were discussing the tendency of Steddie fics to centralize the party at Steve’s house, because his parents are never there anyway. And then someone mentioned what if the parents came home and found their house occupied, and someone else mentioned Wayne being there, and it just sort of…spiraled out from there.

When writing start by pulling him out of the fire, what was something you didn’t expect?

I had no idea, going in, that I was going to write a comprehensive history of the Wayne and Eddie Munson relationship. I started writing it where I did to give some background on Wayne’s existing distaste for the elder Harrington, and then I just…kept writing. Over the course of a month or two I wrote 20k of WayneAndEddie that I had no idea was in me - it just kept coming.

What inspired it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

@wynnyfryd. It was a gift for her birthday. We were talking about our mutual love of Letterkenny, and she mentioned that the episode was her favorite and wouldn’t it be funny if someone wrote… and the rest is history.

What was your favorite part to write from it's supposed to be fun (turning twenty-one)?

I had an unreasonable amount of fun with that one in general. But I think my favorite part was Eddie polling the party about what Steve means to them all. It was fun to sort of put myself in each character’s shoes and think about how they would answer. Plus y’know, any excuse to unironically love on Steve Harrington.

How do/did you feel writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats, honey?

I believe my exact words upon deciding to write it were “jingles miserably to a blank google doc.” This was a classic case of saying “god I wish there was a fic where—” and having friends tell me that it was now my responsibility to write it. I’m glad I did, though. I love that story, and it proved to me that I could write sex and publish it and not burst into flames. I also just really, really love summer storms. And Wayne’s use of the singular ‘herpe.’

What was the most difficult part of writing so let's sneak in from the cheap seats honey?

Getting over the fear of publishing something E-rated. It was just something I hadn’t done, and I had a lot of anxiety that people were not going to respond well to it. I made three people individually review the sex scenes before I even asked anyone to beta the full fic. Of course I was worried for nothing, the reception for that fic was super lovely and gave me the confidence boost I needed to attempt start by pulling him out of the fire!

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

This is like asking me to pick a favorite child. I’ll say this: most of my favorite lines in start by pulling him out of the fire were taken directly from conversations @wormdebut and I had about the fic. She’s my number one cheerleader and sounding board, and sometimes she’s so goddamn funny that I just have to include it. You have her to thank, for instance, for Steve quite literally dropping his croissant when he first sees Eddie in glasses.

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

I have a couple of irons in the fire, but nothing I’m ready to share just yet! I’ve been taking a breather from writing (blame baldur’s gate 3, okay) but my WIPs are still very much IP. Stay tuned!

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

Not that I can think of!

Thank you to our author, Pricklywhicket, and our anonymous nominator! See more of pricklywhicket's works featured on our page throughout the day!

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

[melancholic-and-delusional]

Fyodor Is Alive. A Bungo Stray Dogs Theory.

The recent episode of Bungo Stray Dogs season 5 presented to us the supposed death of the main antagonist of the series - Fyodor. However, I'd like to argue that he is, in fact, very much alive. Due to the impossibility of Studio Bones being able to animate the last chapters shorty after their release, I'm going to go by the narrative that Asagiri has informed them of what should be animated beforehand, and so the final episode of the season is canon.

My first argument, which should go without saying, is that this is not the first time we have been death-bated. There are too many examples to count, where characters seem to have no way of avoiding their demise. However, that was never the case. For that fact, I believe that this will be the same situation once more.

Secondly, an argument which was quickly brought up by many fans is Fyodor last words - 'Eli, Eli, lama sabachtani?'

The words are a direct quote from the Bible, meaning 'My God, my God, why have Thou forsaken me?' That was the last sentence Jesus Christ uttered before finally dying on the cross. As we all know, however, he came back to life 3 days later, which raises suspiciousions if Fyodor would also come back or not.

The next thing I would like to mention is that Fyodor's cut-off arm looks incredibly fake.

Fyodor was in the helicopter, which crashed and immediately after that set on fire. If that arm was his, it would've been burnt and dark, and if that arm was an actual limb, it would have cut off blood vessels hanging from the end where it had been previously chopped off. The use of a fake arm had already been performed by Dazai in season 2, when him and Chuuya were fighting against Lovecraft, so it is very much possible that this once mentioned detail holds a certain importance later in the story (Chekhov's gun or something like that).

Moreover, when Fyodor was in the helicopter, he was not alone. He was with another vampiresed guard. As soon as the vehicle set on fire, it exploded. Fyodor could've pulled the guard to himself, protecting himself from the explosion, just like Kunikida did with Tetchou in the previous season.

However, I am slightly uncertain of this argument since both of them were inside of the exploding helicopter, and it'd be difficult to protect yourself from such a thing. I do still think that it is worth suggesting that the guard might have been of use for Fyodor to survive.

The next thing I'm bringing up is that when Bones animated Dazai's "death" scene, it appeared much more dramatic than in the manga, and it actually seemed fatal. (This is a bit of a dumb argument, but I'll still go with it.)

The manga panel of Dazai's headshot looks faked, but what Bones animated doesn't. When the chapters of the manga that were just animated come out, it might give us the opportunity to form more theories regarding Fyodor's supposed death.

Another thing I wish to point out is that season 2 of the anime ended with Fitzgerald's "death".

Of course, in season 3, we find out that he was alive all along. He used to be the main antagonist of the series up to that point and before Fyodor took over that title. Studio Bones could've waited for more chapters and content to come out for them to animate, especially since this season has been the shortest one yet, but they chose to end season 5 with Fyodor's death, leaving us on a cliffhanger. This leads me to believe that they're purposefully doing that, so in the next season, they can shock us when Fyodor comes back alive.

Finally, we know nothing about Fyodor's origin, ability, etc. It would be anticlimactic, and I'd even consider it as poor writing. Even if Sigma survives, which I think he will, and he goes to share the information he got out of Fyodor, it wouldn't be as satisfying to know all of that once Fyodor is actually dead. In a way, there's no reason for us to care about his backstory once he has died.

Also, not long before the incident occurred, Fyodor spoke about Dazai being his greatest foe since that man. However, nobody has any clue who 'that man' is.

This leaves another question unanswered and another reason for Fyodor to survive.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Thank you so much for reading my theory! It is the first time I have ever written one, so I'm hoping the arguments I've brought made the least bit of sense.

[thisisarcanereverie]

When the World Went to Shit (Chapter 2)

Joel Miller x FEM! Reader

A/N: this is a SPOILER WARNING, this contains spoliers from the second episode (and more to come). Also I did NOT bother editing, so if there are a few mistakes my bad.

WARNINGS: Canon level of violence, swears, reader is ready to fight a goddamn child, Joel is sad, talks of grief, PTSD, brief mentions of gore, Eventual Smut, pining (on both ends), grumpy idiots in love, reader is in her late 30's to early to mid 40's. DISCLAIMER NO CHARACTERS/GIFS/PICS USED ARE MINE.

Summary: 20 years later after the world went to shit you, Joel, and Tess have to take 14 year old Ellie to the Firefly base outside of Boston QZ. What was supposed to be a simple plan turned into something much more complicated.

Prev. Chapter

Shit

You take a deep breath in as you, as you and Joel watch the girl with bated breath as Tess sleeps next to you two. Joel tried to get you to sleep as well, but you refused. All the adrenaline from the running and the commotion from before still lingered in you, keeping you awake. Time seemed to go on forever, just watching her, waiting for something to happen. It was like your own brand of hell, maybe one you deserved. You always did hate to see people become infected, so fresh and recent that you’re reminded that they were human once. Even the terrifying creatures that barely looked human at all once were, had families and a past, it’s just that their luck ran out. What’s even worse, is that the fungus itself wasn’t to blame for all of this either, it just evolved to survive, like all things did. It’s just one big evolutionary mess. Before you could delve deeper about it you noticed Joel’s hand trembling. His knuckles still bloody from before, your thoughts suddenly turn to what happened before. How Joel had beaten a man to death, his PTSD took over didn’t hold back. Something you don’t blame him for, he was going to kill a little girl for stabbing him in the leg. But still, it looked like it hurt. 

“Hey,” you said silently, careful not to wake Tess and Ellie, “Joel.” The man turned to you, his brown eyes glancing over at you before returning to the small figure snoring. 

“Yeah,” he replied softly, careful not to wake them too. 

“Let me see it,” You said nodding toward the bloodied hand that rested over the gun, you unzipped your bag before he could say no. 

“I’m fi-” 

“Joel,” you called his name sternly, “stop trying to be macho and let me see your goddamn hand.” he mumbled something under his breath before he shifted the gun to his other hand and let you examine the damage. You scooted closer to him, turning his hand a few different ways, gentle as to not displace something. 

“Can’t be anything more than a hairline,” you said, hairline fractures were common punching injuries to the hand, usually you would treat this with ice or something cold, give him a few pain pills and tell him to lay off it for a while. But you weren’t in the QZ and couldn’t afford to lay off his hand for a while, so you did what you could do. You grab a sterilizing liquid from your bag and rip off a piece of your own shirt as a makeshift bandage. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Yes I do,” You said as you continued to heal him with what you had. 

“You could let me get my sentence out first before you answer.” He gruffed, you looked at him a moment before a small smile graced itself on your lips. His hair might be peppered with gray and his eyes may be hardened by time, but when he made that face you could still see who he used to be. Tommy’s cool older brother who used to smoke outside of the arcade and would always roll his eyes when you told him that smoking caused cancer. You were too wrapped up in that memory to see his gaze drift over to you, watching as you diligently worked. His hand still felt like shit, the burn of the sterilizing liquid still lingered. If you had looked at him you would’ve seen it, the conflict and desire that he had buried deep within himself ever since you came back into his life. 

If only

But instead he turned his head back to the teen when you were finally done. 

“What were you smiling about?” He asked, curious to know what had been on your mind at that moment. 

“Nothing,” you told him as you put your stuff away. Making sure to close the lid tightly before settling it back into your backpack. “How’s the hand feeling now?”

“Like shit,” He replied, “but thanks for the help Doc.” You both sat in silence for a little longer, the crickets made a nice lullaby in the middle of all the hell going on outside. 

“You should get some rest,” He said, “in a few hours we’re going to have to decide on what to do with her.” The adrenaline was wearing off a bit and you were starting to feel the energy leaving you, but you were bound and determined to stay up with him. 

“Not tired,” you defied as you fought keeping your eyelids open, but pretty soon sleep overcame you as you finally fell into its embrace. 

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

When you opened your eyes it was daylight, and Joel and Tess were up staring at Ellie who was starting to wake up as well. You went to sit next to Joel when he stopped you, his eyes looking up at you. 

“Stay behind me.” He said, and you complied. Your physical skill left much to be desired, but you were skilled enough to take on a clicker or two if it came down to it. 

Daylight streaked through the hole in the ceiling, where you could see the brunette girl start to stir on her bed of moss. Until she sat up and looked around, eyes settling on you three. 

“Morning,” she greeted, standing up from where she laid. The sudden movement causes Joel to raise his weapon higher, causing Ellie to pause before sitting on the moss again, her eyes carefully eyeing him. 

“Do I look like I’m infected?”

“Show us your arm.” Joel commanded, and without hesitation you saw her pull back the pink sleeve of her jacket to reveal the scar that had formed. You stepped forward, wanting a closer look. Joel went to stop you but you brushed him off, carefully you held the girl's arm in your hand. A finger delicately tracing the healed bite marks. 

Healed bite marks. 

Something dangerous began to bubble in you, call it hope or relief, but you stifled it down and you had too little information to start celebrating. 

“How long ago were you bitten?” You asked, tearing your eyes away from the scar and into her eyes. 

“3 weeks,” she replied, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat before you let go of her and made your way back to Joel and Tess, who sat there with tense shoulders. You were silent for a moment, trying to search for the right words so you wouldn’t sound crazy. But you guess crazy went out the window when half fungus half human zombies started emerging. 

“It’s healed,” you said, “scar tissue has formed and she shows no signs of infection.”

“How is that possible?” Tess asked in disbelief, “that infection scanner glowed red.” 

“It could’ve been a false positive,” you suggested, “I don’t know the finer details of it. But if she’s had this for weeks and hasn’t turned, I’d say there’s a good chance she’s immune somehow.” 

Immune. 

It was such a scary word to say out loud, immunity gave people hope for a vaccine or a cure. You tried to avoid that as much as you could, hope was hell. You all looked at each other a moment before Ellie could be heard in the background. 

“If we’re out in the open city why aren’t we swarmed?” 

“Don’t worry about that.” Joel dismissed. 

“Well I’m gonna.” Ellie replied. You guessed she’s never been outside the FEDRA walls before, you heard some of the teenagers telling ghost stories. Like how some infected can spread spores, or that the entire city is full of infected ready to swarm you as soon as you take a step outside the gate. 

“What was Marlene doing with an infected kid?” Tess asked as Joel gently put himself in front of you, still not trusting that Ellie wouldn’t suddenly turn. 

“I’m not infected,” Ellie defended, “She found me after I was bitten. 

“And she didn’t shoot you?”

“Clearly not” 

What was Marlene playing at?

“She locked me up and had her guys test me everyday to see if I was getting sick.” 

“How?” You asked, “how did they test you?”

“I’ve got to pee.” 

“Answer her.” Tess said, her eyes focused on Ellie, who stared at her with the most deadpan expression you’ve ever seen on a 14 year old. 

“They’d made me count to ten and hold out my hand and keep it steady.” She explained, “but you know what I think really impressed them was the fact that I didn’t turn into a fucking monster.” And with that she stood up finally, “Now can I please?” Joel stood up with her, careful to keep you behind him. You see her studying him a bit, something flashed across her eyes before it disappeared. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. Much like you he denies any sort of hope, but unlike you he was very good at being pessimistic about things like vaccines and a cure. 

“Fine,” Tess breaks the silence, tossing her an old magazine, “back there you can find a spot.” She points to an open door a few feet away. The brunette walks towards the door, stepping over old shards of glass.  

“There’s nothing going to be bad in here?” Ellie asked. 

“Just you.” 

“Oh, funny.” Ellie replied to Joel before stepping behind the door out of view. All three of you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were keeping in, Joel sat back down and turned to you. 

“What happened to staying behind me?”

“She’s not infected,” you reasoned, “I had to make sure that she was telling the truth.” 

“What if she wasn’t?” Joel’s ash colored eyes narrowing on your figure, “you could’ve been hurt.” 

“I wasn’t,” you assured, “and neither was Tess. But someone had to take a closer look and it might as 

well have been me.”

“Why do you think it might as well have bee-” 

“Enough,” Tess interrupted, shutting you both up. Looking at Joel she spoke, “she’s a big girl and can make her own decisions and she has a point. Among the three of us, she’s the only one with medical knowledge, so it was better if she examined it in the first place.” You were about to send a triumphant smirk Joel's way when you felt her gaze shift to you. “And while you may have had a point Joel did too. You can’t be so reckless.” A moment of silence happens before she speaks again, eyes trained back on Joel who was looking towards the door like he was waiting. “She made it through the fucking night, Joel.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed her. “It’s going to happen sooner or later.” he looks at her before turning his gaze to the ground, “Alright? We’re still close to the wall, we sneak her back into the QZ and we find a different way of getting the battery.” 

“This,” Tess emphasized, “is our best shot.” Joel sighs as Tess makes him look at her again, “Someone’s going to notice her arm. They’re going to scan her…and then they’ll kill her.” 

“Well better them, than us,” Joel snapped, “You need to stop talking about this kid like she’s got some kinda life in front of her.” You sigh and rub the bridge of your nose, this was messy and complicated. How in the hell did you manage to find your way in this situation in the first place. 

Oh yeah.

Cause Joel Miller said he fucking needed you. 

Just as you were about to add your own two cents in footsteps could be heard approaching. You all went silent as you watched Ellie emerge from behind the door and toss the magazine at Tess’s feet before sitting down on her bed of moss. 

“Are you hungry?” Tess asked as she opened up the small bag of ration jerky, “you can share some of ours.” 

“Thanks, Marlene sent me with my own,” Ellie thanked as she pulled out something from her bag. The three of you shared the jerky and eyeing the sandwich she had pulled out. You watched as she takes a bite, you were almost certain that it was chicken. 

“Is that chicken?” Tess asked. 

“Yeah,” the brunette confirmed, “Marlene said they got it from smugglers.” An awkward pause fills the air as her dark eyes dart between the three of you, “I’m guessing not you guys.” Suddenly Tess stands up and walks over to Ellie, Joel was quick to stand as well. 

“Why are you so important to Marlene?” Tess asked as she stuffed her hands into her pockets, “and don’t lie or we’ll take you back.” 

“You don’t take me back, you don’t get your battery.” 

“You heard that,” Tess scoffs, “then you must’ve heard that he wants to shoot you.” Ellie’s eyes darted to Joel who kept her gaze as Tess kneels in front of her. “I’m gonna talk to you like an adult, ok?” Tess says gently bringing Ellie’s attention back to her, “Joel, Doc and I aren’t good people. We’re doing this for us, because apparently you’re worth something. But we don’t know what you’re worth, if we don’t know what we have.” You see Tess’s eyes narrow on the 14 year old, “So answer my question,” a moment of tense silence happens before you could see the brunette sigh and cover her face, mumbling something before replying. 

“There’s a Firefly base camp somewhere out west with doctors,” she starts, “they’re working on a cure.” 

“Mm-hm” Joel interrupts, “I’ve heard this before.” Your eyes narrowed on him as he interrupted her, he was starting to really irritate you.

“And whatever happened to me,” Ellie continued, her eyes also narrowing on Joel, “is the key to finding the vaccine.” Joel said at the same time. His eyes narrowed on her in a cynical way, his guard was up. 

“That’s what this is?” he asked, “We’ve heard this a million times, vaccines and miracle cures. None of it works…ever.” 

“Fuck you man I didn’t ask for this.” Ellie snapped, standing up. 

“You and me both.” Joel retorted, turning away from her, Tess got up from her kneeling position to get in between the two. 

“Joel, you need to calm down.” You finally spoke, looking him in the eyes, trying to keep your voice even and not tell him to shut the fuck up instead. 

“This isn’t going to end well Doc.” He warned, grabbing your wrist with his good hand, “we need to go back.” His eyes intensely focused on you, almost begging you to just listen to him for once in your life. But you took a step back. 

“And do what exactly?” you questioned, “You killed a FEDRA soldier last night, or almost did, all of us are outside of the QZ without permission, and if they hadn’t raided our units by now they will soon and guess what they’ll find Joel? They’ll find evidence of smuggling and illegal weapons.” You step closer to him now, hands resting on your hips, “we go back and we will all face the gallows, it doesn’t matter who we are.” 

You were right, and he knew it. His shoulders drop as he pinches the bridge between his eyebrows. 

“Let’s just finish it” Tess says, “it doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t what the Firefly’s say, if they believe that’s what she is…then…we get what we want.” You could see his gaze soften as he looked at Tess, giving a begrudging nod to her before looking at Ellie. Sunlight gave her a deceiving halo, before he shook his head as he looked between you and Tess. 

“If she so much as twitches-” 

You turned to Ellie to see her give a half hearted impression of an infected. All of you gave her a deadpan face. 

“Don’t.” Tess said as she and Joel went to move the piece of debris locking you in here. Ellie stops and

gives an awkward scratch to the back of her neck in embarrassment. Both you and Ellie grab your backpacks, you grab Joel’s as well and hand it to him. 

You squint as daylight invades your eyes, blinding you a moment from the ruins of Boston. The crickets were long gone, only a few screams could be heard from the far distances. Alright, You thought, Here we fucking go. 

[loonatics-b1gf4n]

LOONATICS SHIPS IN MY OPINION

!!!!WARNING!!!!

This article contains my thoughts.

Contains gay, lesbian ships and oc x canon ships. If you don't like this kind of thing, please don't read. I also ask you to be respectful.

Also, I do not own any of the characters mentioned here. Contains characters either owned by Warner Bros. or other users. Only the characters named Mylene E. Coyote ,Luna Vester, Hannah Bunny and Frankie Runner belong to me.

If you have no problems with these warnings, enjoy my article. Thank you.

-SHIPS THAT I LOVE TO SHIP OR I LIKE TO SHIP:

NUMBER ONE: TECH X REV (TEV OR OTHER SHIP NAMES YOU USE)

I think it wouldn't be a lie if I said it's the fan favorite Loonatics ship. I think you shipped it on time (If you didn't ship it, no problem). It's my favourite. And it was my first Loonatics ship. Technically my first Loonatics ship as a canon x canon ship. Hehe, I was once an oc x canon fan too. Interesting information, I used to ship Rev with the character named Mylene because I had a little crush on Rev. That's why I ship with myself. … I know it's very cringe. That's why I still hate myself. However, I learned from my mistakes and am now a Tech x Rev shipper. It wouldn't be a lie if I said Tech x Rev is the closest canon ship. They acted as if they were a couple in many scenes in the series. IF YOU STILL DON'T BELIEVE ME, LET ME TELL YOU THIS SENTENCE!! Said by Rev Runner. Season 2 Episode 5, ''Family Business'' “Thanks, Tech. If you weren't a coyote, and a guy, I'd kiss ya!” DID YOU SEE THIS?!?!? I'm still pissed because DAMN WARNER BROS ONLY MADE 2 SEASONS AND LEFT US LOONATICS FANS WITH A LOT OF QUESTIONS. AND MOREOVER, THEY DID NOT GIVE US ANY CANON SHIP. Except for married people, they're canon, so we know that. God dammit. In short, it is my favorite and I will definitely ship it in the future. NO ONE CAN STOP ME!!! NIHAHAHAHA. Sorry. By the way Rev gay and Tech pan in my AU.

NUMBER TWO: LEXİ X DUCK (LEXİ X DANGER DUCK)

Lexi x Duck ship is among my favorites, but it's not a ship I look at much. Even though Lexi and Danger Duck's relationship seems a little toxic in the series and they seem like siblings to other people, I love that they are lovers. At least in my AU they are. And they doesn't seem to ship much anymore. Excuse me, but this is the truth. Or I don't see much. This is also a possibility. It's not a ship I can talk about much, I just like them together.

NUMBER THREE: TECH X ACE

Don't attack me. I love Tech x Rev with all my heart. Still, I chose to like this ship for a change. I hated this ship before. But then I saw some of their fanart. Excuse me, but I mean a little bit, there are 2 hahahahahahaha. Anyway, I said to myself, "I think they might be cute. So why not, I ship it''. Frankly, I felt like they had a platonic love in the series. It seemed interesting and, frankly, sweet. Only in the series did I see how much Ace actually cares about Tech. Cry though, Ace, because Tech chose Rev. Hahahahahaha. I'm sorry again. An interesting information (related to real life) is that coyotes are monogamous. That's why I ship Rev with Tech in a different AU, and I ship Ace with Tech in a different AU. This helps a little more.

NUMBER FOUR: SLAM X LEXİ

I'll just say this briefly because I'm tired and I need to move on to more oc x canon and the ones I hate. They are sweet, but I see them more as brother and sister. I'M SO SORRY WHO EVER SHIP THEM!!! I JUST DON'T HAVE TIME!!! I RESPECT YOU GUYS!!!!

NUMBER FIVE: TECH X LEXİ

They can be cute but I don't prefer to ship them.

-OC X CANON SHIPS

NUMBER ONE: RİP X KİT (KİT X RİP OR KİP) OC X CANON SHIP

The owner of this ship is @segamarkiii. I don't own this ship or the Kit character. The reason I like this ship is obviously because Rip has a boyfriend. Rip is honestly a bit of an underrated character. I'm sad about this, because I think it would have made the show a little better if Rip had been a little more prominent. Also, the fanart made by Segamarkiii is amazing. I hope she makes more Loonatics fanart.

NUMBER TWO: MYLENE X LUNA (MY OWN SHIP BETWEEN MY OC'S)

I love this ship. They suit each other very well. Let me give you some AU spoilers. Mylene actually changed Luna's life. That's why she's on the team. In my original AU, I was actually going to ship Luna with Tech. YES, I TRIED TO SHIP THE CHARACTER WITH MYSELF AGAIN, CRINGE AND SORRY. Now when I say this, what do you think? ''Wait, do you ship yourself with yourself? It's disgusting.'' No, my dear friends. Mylene and Luna are no longer the characters I am myself. I have a main character and an IRL character, which are characters that reflect me. So no, I don't ship myself with myself. Do not worry. Meanwhile, Mylene and Luna are a Bi and Lesbian couple (TOH reference hah). Mylene Bi and Luna are lesbians. I love shipping them.

NUMBER THREE: ACE X HANNAH

The real reason I made this ship was because I felt sorry for Ace. While everyone on the team was in love with someone, Ace and Slam were not in love with someone. Don't worry, I have a ship in Slam. Hannah is a vet and Mylene has a desert fox (named Angel. Don't worry, a picture with my Loonatics Ocs will come soon, in late February, hopefully) While Mylene is taking her to the vet, Ace sees Hannah because he also came. Love at first sight, they get together, blah, blah, blah. So I gave Ace a girlfriend out of pity.

NUMBER FOUR: SLAM X FRANKIE

I must say that this ship was inspired by the malewife x girlboss relationship. While Slam is very shy around Frankie, Frankie tries to flirt with Slam. That's enough to say, and besides, this is my favorite oc x canon ship. IN LOONATICS!! DONT WORRY!!!!

If you have oc x canon ship in Loonatics and if I'm not say that sorry.

-SHIPS THAT I HATE TO SHIP OR I DON'T LIKE TO SHIP

Before I give my opinions, I'm so, so sorry if you ship any of these. But these are my opinions. However, I respect you all, know that.

NUMBER ONE: LEXİ X ACE

This is my least favorite ship among the Loonatics ships. Again, I'm sorry, but I don't like Ace and Lexi being shipped. If you tell me about the scenes in the series in the comments, I can't really say anything. However, remember that none of the ships in the series are canon. I think Ace and Lexi are cousins, and I prefer that. We already know that Bugs and Lola are together. In this case, the possibility of Lexi and Ace being cousins ​​increases.

''They are cousins, they are in the very distant future, can't they have consanguineous marriages? Can't they date even if they are relatives??'' Of course, but I don't like that, that's why I don't like this ship. That is all.

NUMBER TWO: ACE X DUCK (ACE X DANGER DUCK)

I will say this, this ship may be sweet to you, but it is not sweet to me. In my opinion, their relationship is mostly brotherly. They already have a competitive relationship. If we look at it according to Duck.

NUMBER THREE: REV X DUCK

I'm not telling anyone not to ship this, but I see them as a brothers.

Again, if you disagree with my thoughts, at least kindly express your opinion. If there are any ships I forgot, you can tell me.

Have a good day, good morning or good night :)

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

k, m, n, t for pd and/or suck!!! >:33333

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

-> you know i gotta say wiwi. i have to. that character was Made For Me i swear to GOD . genuinely i cannot think about prime defenders season 2 episode 39 without feeling physically sick bc i love it so much. its the only one i havent relistened to since i heard it the first time. i KNOW its gonna make me cry again so i genuienly have not touched it even though theres things in there i need to hear again for character research. his arc is so like. narratively satisfying in a way that hits me so fucking deep to my core in an extremely personal way. and like. there were definitely some Decisions that i was REALLY ANNOYING about hating when they were brought up because im used to media with bad storytelling/creators that do not care about their characters but. looking back on it i would not change a single thing about it. i love you wiwi so much.

-> FOR SUCK.... its not over yet. so i cannot definitively say. campaign finale comes out tomorrow so my answer may change depending on that but for right now i think i gotta say arthur. i joke a lot about hating arthur for no real reason in particular but. man his story is just REALLY good. not going 2 give you suck spoilers (hehe) but i also really like how shilo has grown through the campaign. hes my little guy :]

M - Name a character that you’d like to have for a friend.

-> TIDE. TIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! TIDE TIDE TIDE I LOVE TIDE SO MUCH. thats my dad thats my best friend i love tide so much dude. every time he is mentioned or on screen i am just like :D HI TIDE I LOVE YOU TIDE

-> grefgore :] light of my life this is how i feel anytime i think about grefgore

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

-> CHARACTER STUDIES. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. I LIKE A GOOD SHIPPING FIC AS MUCH AS THE NEXT GUY BUT PLEASE GOD WRITE THEM IN CHARACTER. EXPLORE THEIR THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS AND WHY THEY MAKE CERTAIN DECISIONS THE WAY THEY DO. this doesnt even go for just pd and suck this is like. true for every single fandom ive ever fucking been in. do you know how hard it is to find character studies in the danny phantom tag on ao3. nobody has even fucking watched the show how are they going to write character studies they just want (<< i cannot legally finish this sentence without getting in so much trouble) I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING MY FUCKING SELF AROUND HERE. ALL I EVER WRITE ARE CHARACTER STUDIES BC THATS THE WAY I THINK ABOUT CHARACTERS. I LOVE THEIR MOTIVATIONS I LOVE TO GET INSIDE THEIR BRAINS LIKE A LITTLE PARASITE AND IT IS ALWAYS SURPRISING TO ME WHEN OTHER PEOPLE DO NOT THINK LIKE THIS. (edit im just now reading through this and realized the question says three things. i did not process that. my three things are all more character studies please)

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

-> oh dude i have so many hmmmmmmm how to choose just one. i have a LOT of feelings about wiwis original death and i might write something about that when i can get over my shrimp emotions about him. dakota cole audhd truther but that ones pretty much canon anyway so i dont think it counts. vyncent and his relationship with growing up in fantasy world and then being thrown into prime and how he adjusted to that. I think he really lies shitty syfy channel type horror movies that are so stupidly bad. and also plays a lot of video games but again i think thats mostly canon already. i think tide listens to dad rock but also like. ocean man by ween. you already know about my william and ashe being each others emotional support at concerts. i think william and ashe should hang out and do emo kid things more. i also have a lot of feelings about ashe and coping with the crippling loneliness of basically growing up alone and how the pd becoming like INSTANT best friends was so much for him in sooo many ways. you already know how i feel about mark i am in the middle of dissecting him like im in a high school biology class as we speak. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i know im gonna think of something really good after i hit the post button so stay tuned

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

Not Like This | Valeria Garza x Fem!Reader

Note: A literal brain fart that I unexpectedly wrote in the afternoon after listening to girl in red today. Angst is seriously the only thing I can produce and feel good about somehow, like what the hell. I should bring this up in therapy next time. I didn't do much research for the fic so lots of stuff is just pulled out of my ass. Get ready for some typical cliché "dying-in-one's-arms" story. Feat. some random google translated Spanish sentences.

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare II (2022)

Warnings: Non-Canon Story, Character Death, Angst, Unrequited Love, Just Pain, Blood, Ghost made an oopsie

Summary: You wanted to touch and kiss her but not like this...

Word Count: 2,6k

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Masterlist

"You don't have to do this!"

You practically beg but she just looks at you with that gaze, the one which says that she won't change her mind, no matter what.

She had held the same gaze when she informed you about her decision to take over the cartel and abandon your brothers and sisters in arms.

She is already in too deep at this point. You both know.

You had known for years since the moment when she took Pascale's hand and danced with him in that god-forsaken club.

He enticed her with an idea and she created El Sin Nombre. And it's all your fault. When you dumped that barrel with the son of La Araña in the river, you thought you had done the right thing and you turned your back on Alejandro and the others.

You watch her, her face is full of determination; it's almost like she's looking through you instead of at you, too captivated by her thoughts.

"It's for us. That deal will make sure our families and the ones after us won't ever grow up and live like we did."

"It wasn't that bad! And compared to how many people will suffer because of that man-"

"Not that bad? Y/N, we drank rainwater while my dead mother rotted in the bedroom! I had to stop Feliz from eating her! Your legs are like this because we didn't have access to proper medical care even in the military! We both suffered so much... But like this... With the authority I have now, these days are nothing but a bad dream! We have established schools and hospitals, and with this money, we'll help even more people!"

Your heart stings when she mentions your disability and the hand grasping your cane burns. She's right. You had suffered. But that was in the past. And compared to the suffering that this terrorist and his organization would bring upon the world...

You couldn't even look the people on the streets of Las Almas in the eyes anymore, how could you bear the weight of responsibility for the horrible crimes of that man?

Maybe you shouldn't have taken her hand when you were discharged from the military due to your increasing leg pain and weeks later she had shown up in front of your doorstep to take you into the hands of the cartel.

"He and those missiles will kill people, dozens of them! Innocent families, brothers, and sisters, little girls like Emilia... Valeria, please- Don't do this. The people hunting him will hunt you too. The Los Vaqueros, Alejandro-"

"We already made the deal. There are no takebacks, Y/N." There's no escape.

You stare at her. The ache in your chest that has been buried deep for years now, grows stronger.

You almost don't recognize her.

She's not the girl who took your first kiss at the age of 7. She's not the best friend you had since childhood. Not the teenager who made out with you when she was drunk at 17 and then didn't remember. Not the one who motivated you to follow your dream of joining the high school basketball team. Not the one who mesmerized you with her naturally glowing character who drew you in like a moth to a flame.

And yet...

You still love her.

And what could you do? You're already in too deep.

Years ago you decided to follow her until your feet couldn't carry you anymore.

You're a fool for her and if she decides to walk straight into hell, even then you will follow her.

You smile bitterly. She takes a step forward and grabs your right hand, her eyes staring straight into yours. Your heart flutters as always. The bitterness in your heart grows.

"You're my best friend Y/N, mi hermana. You know I'm doing this for us. Para tiempos más brillantes."

She doesn't see the tears threatening to fall from your eyes when she embraces you and you quietly sob into her arms. She holds you close and yet you've never felt farther away from her.

"para tiempos más brillantes" you whisper in her shoulder and for you these words are like a prayer, begging God or whoever to forgive you for your foolish heart and your foolish love.

-

A few days later you arrive in a black SUV for the cartel meeting.

The atmosphere in the house is already strange when you enter with Valeria. Diego greets you with a kiss on the back of your hand like always and once again you discreetly wipe your hand on your dress.

You hate participating in those meetings but to the cartel you're like a symbol, a symbol for the wealth and power that one can gain with the help of the cartel. So it's expected that you attend. And she likes it when you're with her.

You feel like a doll in that expensive dress Valeria gifted you. It's a light blue backless dress and compliments your shape.

She gave you this one with her typical words about wanting to make you feel good about yourself but you neither feel pretty nor good; the slit on the side shows off the scars on your leg and with your cane you give the image of a circus actor instead of a rich woman.

"You can rest upstairs", Valeria tells you and pats your shoulder and one of Diego's underlings wearing a black mask steps forward to accompany you.

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Yeah", you mumble and follow the guy. He tries to be discreet but you notice him looking at your feet right away and you huff inwardly. Yeah, she couldn't gift me expensive high heels unfortunately.

You're wearing flats because anything with heels hurt not only your feet but your legs as well.

On the highest floor you pour yourself a drink and sit on one of the chairs at the long round table.

You stare at the ice cubes in your class and watch as they slowly melt. Time ticks by and Valeria is nowhere to be seen.

It's pathetic how you wait for her like a puppy. But it's always been like this. She goes somewhere, you follow. When she's away, you wait for her, the only company your anxiety and worries.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door.

The atmosphere has been weird before but when the guard tells you in a breathless voice that he will be right back, you know something is definitely off.

You're not on the comms and you don't have a weapon, you never bring one to these events because it "ruins your outfits".

But you don't have to worry much because right when you think about grabbing a kitchen knife just in case, Valeria and her lackeys storm through the door.

She's armed - unlike when you two entered the house. You immediately know something went wrong.

"Y/N", she says, her tone cold and you stand up quickly, "go on the terrace for a bit."

You blink perplexed. "What? Why?"

She gives you a look as she grabs the phone one of her men holds up for her.

"Solo hazlo!"

You continue to stare for a few seconds, but she turns away, not looking at you.

"Yes, El Sin Nombre" you sigh eventually. A guard offers you a gun and you take it silently.

You walk to the back of the room and leave through the door, the gazes of Valeria's guards burn on your naked back.

You sit on one of the loungers, letting your cane and gun rest by your side and you stare at the darkening sky. You know who she's calling in there and the guilt plagues your mind.

How did you two end up like this? This isn't the future you imagined for yourself.

Yes, you wanted to be by her side but not like this.

The 16-year old Y/N L/N didn't see herself as the closest confidant of a drug cartel boss. Your younger self didn't see herself involved with corruption and the distribution of narcotics. You didn't see yourself lying next to her, back to back, in a bed with a pistol under the pillow.

In your ideal future you would lay in her arms in a cozy bed in a house with room for you two and your family, her sister Emilia, your grandparents, maybe even a dog like Feliz. Just you, the love of your life and your family.

No guns, no drugs, just a happy life, satisfied with what you have.

But you know better. That dream will never come true. Valeria loves you, always has, but not like you love her. You'll never be more than her best friend.

And even if she saw you in a different light, your dream can never come true. The things you both have done in your past will haunt you.

You know it's only a matter of time until the USA will hunt you and the other drug cartels down. They'll purge everything they can get a sniff of. And then El Sin Nombre will pay the price. But you'll be right beside her.

"At least we can be together in prison", you say to no one in particular, a bitter smile on your lips.

You stroke the frayed strap of the bracelet Valeria had gifted you all those years ago in high school. Memories come up but they're interrupted by a low hum. Confused you turn your head, searching the sky when a loud bang and sudden gunshots ring out in the house.

In the blink of an eye you're on your feet, gun in hand with the safety off, your cane disregarded.

You hurry to the door right when it gets slammed open and Valeria runs into you. Shocked you lower your hands, mierda you almost shot her!

"Y/N!", she shouts, grabbing you by your arm. "We have to move!"

She pulls you with her but the low hum has turned into growling and the roar of spinning rotors accompanies the black helicopter who suddenly hovers over the house. You're trapped.

"Down! Get down, now!", someone in the helicopter shouts and god, you're so stupid but she's in danger and without a second thought you shoot at the man standing at the open in the helicopter, while trying to cover her with your body.

"Y/N!"

A lot happens in mere seconds. The man at the helicopter door ducks inside, the other soldiers scream and point their guns at you and you shoot once more when someone shoves you and the force sends you to your knees.

"Cease Fire, Immediately!!"

Shouts echo around you, two more men run on the terrace, rifle and gun pointing at you but you don't care.

You turn and stare at her and she looks you in the eyes. The brown is basically black in the dusk. The corners of her lips twitch as if she wants to smile. You notice the rapidly growing spot on her grey shirt, underneath her necklace on the left side.

You scream and she hugs you, forcing her whole body weight on you. You crumble completely to the ground, holding her close, one hand still clutching the gun.

"Target is hit- I repeat target is hit! Ghost what the fu-"

"Don't shoot! I know that woman!"

Y/N she whispers. She's not moving her lips but you know she called you. You stare into her eyes as she gasps for air.

"Ria, I got you- It's okay- I got you, I-"

You drop the gun and press onto the wound from the back. Your hands turn slippery from her blood.

One of the men walks up to you and kicks your gun away from your reach and as he hovered over you, you pull her closer, shielding her with your upper body.

No, no. This can't be happening!

Your heart beat resounds loudly in your ears, it drowns out the helicopter noise and the shouting soldiers. You feel naseous from the surging helplessness you feel. Until you hear a certain voice. It's familiar.

"Y/N, hey! It's me, Alejandro. Let me have a look at her, please."

Alejandro?

You lift your head, still holding eye contact with her. Her eyes are wide, shocked probably at the sudden development. You gulp but bile still rises in your throat.

Hands grab you, but they're not forceful and you straighten your upper body to give Alejandro the chance to look at her in your arms. You look at him, begging him to do something, to help- save her.

"...dro", she wheezes and he smiles but his raised eyebrows give his worry away.

"Valeria."

He reaches for her back where you hold her and when his hand finds yours, his face darkens. He stands up and turns towards the helicopter and waves at the blonde man inside, his red hand glistening.

"We need a medic now!"

The sentence flings you into the past.

"Necesito evacuación médica para Y/N!! Gómez, hijo de puta, call it in now!!"

Gunshots whizz past you two but Valeria doesn't care.

She puts more pressure on your legs and you just watch how her expression stirs from worry to determination.

You adore that face so much. Her sharp eyebrows, the straight bridge of her nose, her long eyelashes, the lines when she smiles. She's your own personal Aphrodite.

"...s beautiful..."

She looks at you scowling. "Shut up, Y/N! Don't go all woozy on me now! We'll get you out of here and you'll be just fine, okay?!"

You smile. Of course. You'll be just fine. After all, she's by your side.

"..can't do anything for her..."

You blink. The words pull you out of your distant memory. She's holding onto you, you realize belatedly. Her fingers dig into your skin but her grip is weak, too weak.

The two soldiers who got in front of you and checked her body retreat. You open your move to say something but she touches your face to get your attention.

"Y/N..."

She pulls you down, while moving her lips as if she wants to whisper something to you. Your chest painfully constricts.

Instead your lips meet. Someone says something but you don't hear them, too shocked by the sudden kiss.

It's more like a peck and it tastes like the alcohol you drank before but your chest almost explodes.

"D-Don't do that, Ria", you croak. The nickname is like poison on your lips.

She smiles. And kisses you again. Longer this time. You taste salt.

"Not like this- I don't want it like this! I haven't even- me cago en la puta, Valeria Martina Garza, you-"

You cover her hands with yours, smearing her blood on them as you grip her fingers tight, holding on like she's your lifeline. Your foreheads touch. The pain in your chest is tearing you apart. You feel like dying.

"Para tiem...pos más brillantes...", she whispers breathlessly and you sob, showering her face with kisses while cradling her in your arms. She huffs as if she's protesting.

"Don't fucking say that! Yo no puedo vivir sin ti!! I love you, Ria, I-"

The smile is still on her lips when her body goes limp in your arms. Your chest constricts as you breathe in shakily.

Tears fall and you rock her in your arms, holding the only one who ever mattered in your life in your arms and you scream, the pain in your chest never stopping.

How can I wish for better times when you're not with me?!

-

"Y/N L/N, what do you know about El Sin Nombre?"

"Ella era mi alma gemela. I'll tell you everything."

[therealvinelle]

How do you read the sentence "Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today.” and come to the conclusion that it is true. Like cut away all Bella's perception, I just look at that line, and I am absolutely certain it is not true.

Well, I look at Aro's actions. He acts an awful lot like someone who's trying to preserve Carlisle's life, as well as their friendship.

A small disclaimer, since I suspect you're new to this blog:

At the risk of being condescending, anon, I'm going to point out that my reading of canon has yielded so many, uh, interesting headcanons because I don't trust the characters and I don't care about authorial intent. If our protagonists all agree that X is true, and the author says "Yes, this is a book about X where X is true", but X doesn't fit any of what's actually happening and it would make a lot more sense if X isn't true at all, then I'm going to believe X is false. This is the case with Aro: yes, he's supposed to be the villain, yes, Breaking Dawn is supposed to be the good guys standing up to the evil oppressors, but none of that makes any damn sense, so I'll be drawing my own conclusions.

Aro doesn't want Carlisle dead

The funny thing about the Breaking Dawn trial is, both the characters and the fandom act as if it was Aro seizing an opportunity to kill the Cullens. Nevermind that he had several opportunities before this, nevermind that he had every reason to believe Renesmee was an immortal child. If Aro is coming to Forks it can only mean that he's doing so for evil reasons.

So, what opportunities had he had to kill Carlisle/the Cullens?

Any time prior to canon

A central argument of Garrett's battle cry was that the Volturi wanted to destroy the Cullens because they're threatened by the animal diet. With that we're back to me not trusting things characters say simply because they say it, because Garrett made that up. There's zero indications that he's right, on the contrary Aro expresses happiness for Carlisle's sake that he's been successful with his lifestyle and found others. (And before you ask me how I know Aro wasn't lying, look at the context. Garrett is trying to incite an insurrection against an enemy that exists largely in his mind, Aro has received happy news about an old friend. One has reason to lie, the other doesn't.)

Say that Garrett's right, though, and Aro felt threatened by Carlisle's diet. Because nothing is more threatening than vegans. In that case, then Carlisle's attempt to leave Volterra gets him Didyme'd. Alternatively, Aro only starts feeling threatened when news of Carlisle having formed a coven for himself reaches him. In that case, then the Cullens are getting nerfed. No one would wonder about it, either, the Cullens were living among humans and Aro can easily say they broke the law. Who's going to know he's lying?

Not to mention, in this case then the Denali would be in danger from Aro as well. They have familial bonds, they may not live like humans but they do partake in the diet. Per Garrett's speech, they'd fit the same profile as the Cullens do, yet somehow Aro doesn't want them dead and nobody's thinking that he does. Funny, that.

Upon learning about Bella

Enter New Moon, and Aro learns that the Cullens told a human and then failed to kill or turn her, instead leaving her to live out her human life where they'd have no control of whether she kept the secret or not. Congrats, guys, you broke the law.

It could very well have ended there.

If Aro wanted Alice badly enough to force her, he had her right there in Volterra with Chelsea and Corin also present. He could have had her, just as he could have had Edward and Bella. If he found the size and power of Carlisle's coven threatening, he had three of the gifted members right there with him in Volterra, with Jasper sure to come after Alice if Aro didn't let her leave. Aro could have killed or kept them, and killed the remaining Cullens, and either way the Cullens would have been neutered.

Instead, Aro sent the three of them on their merry way, with his only caveat that this promising, potentially very powerful young human, must be turned! Will it make Carlisle's coven even bigger and even more gifted, yes. And Aro doesn't just not have a problem with it, he actively approves.

Not only are those not the actions of someone who feels threatened by the Cullens or want them destroyed, but of someone who considers the Cullens to be on his side. The man is ruthless enough to kill his own sister as well as guard members who have left Volterra all in the name of protecting his organization, if he thought the Cullens were a potential enemy he would take the necessary action right there in Volterra.

The Eclipse debacle

I have a tag for this, you know.

TL;DR: if Aro wanted the Cullens dead, they would be dead. No need for newborn armies, though if they're relying on newborn armies to get people surreptitiously killed (you see why I said that about X not making any damn sense) then Jane had the perfect opportunity after the newborn battle. She could have killed the Cullens then, and told the world that they tragically perished against the newborns. Yes, it's very sad.

Literally anytime

Just to rehash, even though I'm in danger of repeating myself at this point. Aro wields the most powerful coven of vampires in the world, if he wants somebody dead then they will die, regardless of reason. His critics are quite fond of saying he's an unfair ruler who uses the law as an excuse to take out innocent covens (I have my thoughts on that), so then, there should have been no problem for him to justify the execution of the Cullens.

In fact, he could just use Bella.

"The Cullens came into Volterra with their human, I let them go since they swore to turn her. Shortly after that, their petty squabble with a rogue vampire led to a newborn army wreaking havoc on Seattle, and the human was still running around. We had to take action."

Or he could make something up.

"Aro's bringing an awful lot of executioners to Carlisle's doorstep for someone who doesn't want him dead," one might say

So, if Aro doesn't want Carlisle dead, why the army in Breaking Dawn?

Carlisle had an immortal child, mate

Irina came to Aro with memories of vampire Bella playing with a toddler that looked like a vampire and had vampiric superpowers. What was Aro supposed to think?

Next up, he hears that Carlisle is gathering an army in a panic, and has no choice but to follow suit.

I can't understate how bad this all looked. And contrary to Carlisle's best intentions, the Romanians, Garrett's speech, and the Denali dividing amongst themselves who'd get which kill makes Aro's reservations more than justified.

And yes, Renesmee turned out to not be an immortal child. She's a hybrid instead, oh happy days.

Not really helping when the Volturi don't know what she'll grow up to be. Maybe she'll always be weaker than vampires, maybe she'll always be in control of herself, maybe the adorable little girl they see will grow up to be a wonderful young woman. They don't know that she will, however, no one does.

And Twilight is a horrifying world of man-eating marble statues, werewolves who will tear humans apart come the full moon, and god knows what else.

Aro had reasons to be skeptical and not simply say "Ah, so there's a heartbreat. Ta, then" that go beyond him being out to get the Cullens.

Aro covered up for the Cullens

The sad fact of the matter is, the Cullens had in fact broken the law. As explained here beautifully by @troquantary, Aro protects not only the Cullens by keeping their continued involvement with Charlie to himself, but he goes out of his way to reassure Caius the shapeshifters are not a threat either, nor an enemy to the Volturi.

He also tried to talk Caius out of executing Irina, she died because Caius ignored him and went ahead with the blowtorch.

Frankly, to me Aro's behavior at the trial reads as someone who's trying to smooth things out and avoid bloodshed from the start, and not just when he finds out what Bella's gift can do.

Aro has no reason to lie

What it says on the tin.

I'll just paste the context of the line you quoted.

“Fair words, Carlisle,” he breathed in his thin, wispy voice. “They seem out of place, considering the army you’ve assembled to kill me, and to kill my dear ones.”

Carlisle shook his head and stretched his right hand forward as if there were not still almost a hundred yards between them. “You have but to touch my hand to know that was never my intent.”

Aro’s shrewd eyes narrowed. “But how can your intent possibly matter, dear Carlisle, in the face of what you have done?” He frowned, and a shadow of sadness crossed his features—whether it was genuine or not, I could not tell.

“I have not committed the crime you are here to punish me for.”

“Then step aside and let us punish those responsible. Truly, Carlisle, nothing would please me more than to preserve your life today.” (Breaking Dawn, page 435)

Fanon Aro is largely an insincere figure, one who calls you a friend to their face while giving the signal for Felix to execute you behind his back. I think we have the movies to blame for this. And, sure, movie/fanon Aro would say "Oh my dearest friend Carlisle, just because I brought this army here today doesn't mean I intend to harm you!"

And, of course, Bella is incredibly suspicious of the man. Aro looks sad at the prospect of killing an old friend? Bella inspects his features for signs that he's faking it, nevermind that I can't conceive of a reason why Aro would. (And if he did want to fake grief, I'd think he'd want to make a bigger point of it than "a shadow of sadness")

I suspect this is a large part of why fandom generally assumes Aro is a lying liar who lies.

Canon Aro quite bluntly says "You made an immortal child and gathered an army, dude, drop the friendly attitude." and it's only when Carlisle claims to be innocent that Aro says "Alright, then, show me the criminal. I'd love to not have to execute you."

Yes, I'm paraphrasing them, but I feel it's called for. Aro's "Nothing would please me more" line is in the context of him calling Carlisle's bluff, it reads to me as sincere in that he's peeved about this entire situation. The Cullens didn't have to do this, the happy ending was right there. Now, for some inconceivable reason, they've made an immortal child and gathered an army to defend it. Would be great if Aro was somehow wrong about any of this and Carlisle's innocent, it really would be.

Then, of course, at the end of the disastrous trial Aro takes the trouble to reach out to Carlisle, and ask if there's a chance they might recover their friendship in the future. Of course, he could be lying for evil and machiavellian reasons, but I don't think he is.

In summation, I think Aro's perfectly sincere and really does want Carlisle to live.

[idololivine]

eiden for the ask meme?

First impression

I had zero expectations going into the game. Didn't even know what characters there were. And then they hit me with one of the most charming protagonists I've ever seen, and I was hooked.

Impression now

Same positive sentiment, but deeper! He's funny and sweet. He means well but fucks up sometimes. He's kind of a judgy bitch but so am I, and he reigns it in for the things his loved ones really care about. He has layers upon layers of abandonment issues. He was (is?) hypersexual in a way that was getting him into a lot of danger and now sex is his way of deepening his connections and healing. Protagonist of all time.

Favorite moment

There's this moment in FG Olivine's R4 where Eiden says he's going to "pop this prayer crystal's cherry" and it's the most insane way to phrase that sentence. Olivine doesn't even acknowledge it. It's so fucking funny.

Idea for a story

There's that t4t top Eiden/bottom Quincy fic I mentioned before...

Also in my long running omegaverse AU, Eiden's original world didn't have a/b/o dynamics and so he's none of the above. Doesn't have pheromones, can't smell pheromones, etc. So in a world of Magical Boysmells that he can't smell... Garu's is the only one he can, because Garu's is due to him being a wolf yokai and not because of omegaverse. I also don't know what would actually happen in the fic though.

Unpopular opinion

bottom Eiden isn't superior and I'm tired of being told otherwise. embrace switch Eiden or die by my hand

no your blorbo is not uniquely deserving of a monogamous romantic relationship with Eiden please google polyamory for me. when you're ready you can also look up relationship anarchy but I know that might be too complicated to understand so no pressure

Favorite relationship

I knooooow I disqualified Olivine before but I disqualified Eiden at the same time for them both being cop out answers. So that means I'm allowed to answer them for each other. That's how this works

Anyway, EiOli. They have this dynamic that's incredibly sweet and affirming and supportive, but crucially - for my arospec ass - it doesn't read like a romance novel. Like, for a lot of the other guys it's very "they're so IN LOVE it's so ROMANTIC they are ROMANTICALLY IN LOVE don't you feel ROMANCED." Romance is an inaccessible emotion to me and if you keep shoving La Romance TM in my face I'll just tune out.

Back to EiOli - they're affectionate and intimate, but in a way that reads more queerplatonic than romantic to me. They support each other, but aren't wholly dependent on each other; Olivine's healing depends mainly on himself, and Eiden has his own shit (mostly) on lock. Also they fuck NASTY. Olivine's h scenes really embody sugar and spice and everything nice.

Runner up though, if we're disqualifying Olivine anyway... EiGaru snuck up on me. I'm a sucker for "choosing to stay" type stuff (oh the arospec fantasy of someone choosing to stay even though I can't love them the "right" way). Though I can't quite wrap my head around EiKaru still, and they're a package deal. Shrugs.

Favorite headcanon

Do headcanons have to be canon compliant? Which understanding of headcanon are we using here...

Trans Eiden with phalloplasty. That's it, that's the headcanon

[alexlesuagz]

(Uhhh so I wrote this a while ago based off of an idea for an alternate ending to S5 Case 52 where the player decides to accompany Jones as he walks home. Have fun reading it, I guess, I’m not that proud of it, but eh. I hope you enjoy!)

(SPOILERS FOR S5 CASE 52 AND TW FOR SEWERSLIDE IMPLICATIONS)

(Also, sorry if any of the canon characters are OOC-)

“A Tough Time Holding Up”

“…I don’t think you should have done that.”

Gloria’s whisper is the only thing keeping the tension in the car from going silent.

And stale.

“Done what?” I ask, my voice a low grumble.

“You know what I mean.” Gloria replies, not even raising her tone.

The silence I give as my response causes her to sigh as we stop at a red light. “Listen. I don’t like Leroux for a lot of reasons, killing Zoe being one of them…but breaking his nose wasn’t-!”

She runs a hand through her hair and groans. “You know what? Whatever. Leroux got sentenced, and his cowardly ass is going to rot in jail for a long time…Zoe’s finally at peace.”

She says the last part with some level of uncertainty. I don’t blame her at all.

There were too many unanswered questions to this case — Leroux’s motive, Zoe’s involvement with Dreamlife, et cetera, et cetera. Gloria and I had to find these explanations fast.

But first, we had to check up on Jones back at the station.

After we park the car in front of that oh-so-familiar blue building we see everyday, I practically barrel out and make a mad dash into the station to find Jones.

I can’t find him anywhere.

Shit, where is he?!

“Jones?” I ask, running over to his desk to see if he’s there.

He isn’t.

“Oh, are you looking for Jones?” Gabriel asks as he sips from a mug of coffee. I nod somewhat frantically in response.

“He’s in the bathroom right now.” He tells me. “I think he’ll be out pretty soon.”

“Ah, alrighty then. Thank you.”

I sit down at Jones’s desk and wait patiently for him to show up.

Sure enough, a couple minutes later, I hear a door open and close, and Jones walks in from around the corner.

Judging by his physical state alone, he looks better(?) than before - he’s calmer, albeit looking a bit exhausted, and it looks like he had splashed cold water on his face.

“Oh! Hey, Val.”

“Jones! Hey!” I reply as I get out of the chair, making sure to give him a warm and friendly smile. “How are you feeling?”

Jones just gives me some sort of dazed stare in response, and I just look at him right in the eyes, waiting for him to answer my question.

He does not answer my question and instead says, “...I heard you arrested Leroux…for murdering Zoe.”

I flinch at the mention of Leroux, and I nod. “Yup, we did…and I even broke his nose. For, y’know, good measure.” I make a fist with one hand and make a swinging motion to demonstrate, and Jones gives me a half-hearted chuckle.

We stand in silence for a couple of seconds somewhat awkwardly until Jones reaches past me and grabs his jacket from a chair. “...Well, I’d better get going.”

Going?

“Uh, wait, you’re going? If you don’t mind me asking, where, exactly?”

Jones flinches at my question. “Oh, uh…I’m just gonna go home and take a nap. I’m…exhausted.”

…Something about his words feels off to me, but I don’t know what.

“A. A nap?”

“...Yeah, what about it?”

He’s only glancing at me, but I can feel his eyes boring into my soul.

“...Oh, uh, nothing really.” I stammer out, feeling a bit embarrassed with myself.

“...Alrighty, then.” He frowns slightly in response.

“I’m going to take a rest.” Fernando tells me. “I’m…I’m just tired right now.”

Something in my gut is pulling me towards Jones, telling me to make sure nothing bad happens to him.

But how do I help?

I know fuck-all on what to do.

I’m internally panicking, mentally scrabbling around to try to find ideas.

Jones is saying goodbye to Gabriel and Gloria as I’m just standing by his desk like a complete goddamn fool.

“Take care.” Gloria tells Jones with a comforting smile.

“Stay safe, alright?” Gabriel says to Jones, putting his hand on Jones’s shoulder.

Jones flinches at Gabriel’s touch, looking at the floor as he mumbles, “I’ll take care of myself, don’t worry.”

He’s lying.

I don’t even have to look at him, and I know he’s lying.

I don’t know what he’s going through, but all I know is that I have to help him somehow.

But how?

I have no game plan, no nothing.

Jones is heading towards the exit carrying nothing with him, even leaving his jacket by his desk.

…Fuck it, we ball.

I make somewhat of a mad dash at him, grabbing his jacket along the way. “Jones! Wait up!”

“Hm?” Jones turns around to face me, looking more tired now. “What is it now?”

“…Can I walk you home?”

“…What?”

“I- I mean, if you want me to, of course- your home is kinda far away if I remember correctly, and you seem pretty tired right now-”

Jones blinks once. Then twice.

“I- uh- what I was trying to stay, I mean say- is that you could use some company???” I blubber out like a fool.

I immediately brace for incoming rejection.

You know what? If he wants to head home, then that’s alright. Maybe I’m worrying too much about him. I probably am kind of bothering him and distracting him from his own thoughts, after all-

“Sure.”

“W-what?”

Jones gives me a small smile. “Yeah, sure. I think I could use the company right now. So why not?”

“I-”

I almost fucking gape at him like he just told me I won the lottery.

“…Val? You alright?”

“I- uh- yes!” I exclaim with a smile, patting (unintentionally slapping) him on the back. “I’ll- I’ll go get my jacket-!”

“V-Val, you’re wearing your jacket-”

“Ah! Alright! I’ll go ask the Chief for permission to walk you home then!”

I scoot over to Chief Parker’s office and almost kick open the door.

“CHIEF.”

Chief Parker yelps with surprise as she almost drops her papers. “Ah!- Detective Perez, please do not scare me like that again-!”

“Sorry! I- uh- so Jones is going home, can I escort him?” I stammer out.

“…Perez, you have work to do-”

“I know, I know!” I exclaim. “But I’m genuinely worried about Jones, and- and I want to escort him home to keep him company and make sure he feels less alone…”

Chief Parker sighs as her eyes flick around the room. “Pere- Val, listen. I’ve known Jones for a while, and I’m genuinely sure that he’ll get through this…eventually, he just needs a bit of time. He’s…a strong individual…”

“Chief.”

“…and I’m sure that all he just needs is a bit of time to himself to recover mentally.”

“Chief. Chief. Chief.”

“I do understand your concerns, but right now, Jones needs some space alone to breathe, alright? Also, you have other work to do when it comes to investigating Leroux’s claims of Zoe’s telekinesis-”

“Chief!” I shout.

“What?! What is it?!” Chief Parker shouts back.

We’re in a bit of a silent standstill for a moment until I exhale.

“How long have you known Jones?”

“…3 years.” She responds, raising an eyebrow. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, I’ve known Jones for 5 years, and even I don’t know everything about him.” I reply. “Just because he looks calm right now, it doesn’t mean that nothing’s going on for him. I do also believe he needs some time alone to process everything, but goddamnit, I am VERY sure that he needs comfort and support right now instead!”

A pause. I notice the Chief rubbing her fingers together repeatedly as she looks around for a moment.

“I’ll be fine.” Fernando tells me with an exhausted, slight upturned curve of his lips.

“Trust me.” I say. “I know something’s wrong. Just…PLEASE let me be there for him.”

“Val, I-”

I’m tearing up right now, but I don’t really care. I just need the Chief to understand what the hell I’m saying.

Fuck it. I even get down on my hands and knees and start begging.

“WHOA! Val, HOLD ON-!”

“PLEASE, Chief Parker. I’m worried for him. I just want him to be mentally okay, but I don’t want him to be alone…please, please, please, please, please…”

I look up for a moment at Chief Parker’s shocked expression. “Val, I’m not su-”

“CHIEF, I WILL LICK YOUR SHOE-”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT!” She exclaims, stepping back. “I will let you accompany Jones on his way home, and I’ll ask Gabriel to partner up with Gloria in the meantime.”

“OH, THANK THE GODS-” I almost sob with joy.

“Val, please calm down.”

“-Ah, alright. Sorry.” I get up from the floor and dust myself off. “Anyway, thank you so much, genuinely.”

“It’s no problem.” She replies with a tired smile.

I nod and bid my farewell as I leave her office.

To my dismay (but not surprise), Jones was not where I had last left him.

He was already across the street when I dashed outside like a maniac.

“There you are!” I exclaim, running over to catch up to him.

Jones flinches at the sound of my voice and flips around. “Oh! Val! Heyyyy!” He says nervously.

“I thought I was gonna walk you home! Why’d you leave me in the dust like that, man?”

“You- you were actually serious about that-?”

“Yeah, of course!” I reply. “You’re one of my closest friends, man. I can’t just leave you alone.”

“Oh!” Jones looks pleasantly shocked. “I- thank you.”

“No problem.” I grin at him. “So…do we take public transportation to your home, or-?”

“…Nah, don’t feel like it tonight. I just feel like walking.”

“Ah, alright.”

“…”

“So, your home’s this way-?”

“N-no, no, Val, it’s that way. We’re literally going to Newmark right now, I live all the way in Fairview.”

“Ahh, shit, my bad.”

[bohemian-nights]

"Such reasons are Ryan's self-insert, Aemond"

Where did this come from? Ryan mentioned Ramsay and the Mountain in the same sentence with Aemond and hinted that Aemond will reach their level in villainy lmao. Aemond is framed as a villain in most of his scenes as adult (at least in the scenes with the Strongs). Ryan talked about his love of Aegon 2 but I don't remember him saying that about Aemond. And he seems to really love Rhaenyra and Alicent, why do people act like Aemond is his fav because he is more complicated than he is in the book so far? He killed Luke accidentally, but the showrunners literally did a similar thing with Cole and Beesbury, and Alicent crowns Aegon by a misunderstanding. Most characters were whitewashed, not just Aemond, even Daemon was whitewashed and has been made much cooler cause he is not a pedo for starters, he is obsessed with his brother, not just power-hungry like in the book, and he is shown as the most badass character in many scenes, like at the Stepstones or in the scene with Vermithor that exists just because.

😬 Respectfully I’m going to have to disagree.

Ryan says a lot of stuff, but I tend to look at actions rather than words because words are ultimately meaningless(especially in regards to this show)

I like Aemond, but in book canon, he is quite something. I straight up dislike Rhaenyra and think that everything that happened to her in the end was deserved(I will be cheering Aegon on when does her in), but even I would will admit he’s misogynistic towards her(he's the one who should be calling her a whore and not Ser Vaemond).

He’s never bullied in the books for not having a dragon(adding that in the show feels like a justification for his behavior; the strong boys keep taunting him so of course he’s going to defend himself). Obese Gollum (aka book!Viserys) literally offered to take him to Dragonstone to find a dragon egg, but he didn’t feel a dragon egg was good enough when he could have Vhagar.

He’s arrogant as hell while in the show it seems like he was a bullied kid who was trying to stick it to his bullies.

The Cole and Beesbury(let’s be honest no one cares about him) thing isn’t really a good comparison.

Originally they were going to keep Luke’s death book canon but somewhere in production, it got changed to it being an accident on Aemond’s part. I suspect that the reason why this was is because Luke is Missy Anne’s beloved son.

Having Aemond kill him in cold blood(especially when Luke is so small in comparison) makes him look outright villainous rather than settling an old debt.

So taking all of that into account if Ryan was going to make him into a psychopath he’s already failed at that and I doubt Aemond will ever reach Ramsey and Mountain levels. (Nor should he because Aemond, even book Aemond who should be in therapy, isn’t an actual psychopath like the other two).

There are some key moments where they could’ve worked in Aemond being two seconds away from a genocidal manic, but all they’ve shown is a boy who loves his mama, a victim of ostracization, bullying, and parental neglect.

I really do get your point, because in a way everyone on this show has kinda been screwed over, including Aemond, but I think that with Aemond they tried to make him into someone you would root for despite his oopses.

All I will say about the Aegon situation is that you don’t make characters you love into outright rapists when you are trying to humanize them and make them likable. They could’ve taken out the rape bits and shown him as a man boy struggling to deal with parental neglect so he’s turned to alcohol to cope. It’s not perfect, but people can empathize with that. However him being a rapist is where most people will draw the line. Ryan may not have said he loved Aemond, but he did a lot more to mellow him out than he did for Aegon.

In regards to Daemon, he definitely has not been whitewashed. If anything he has been made worse. He’s still shown to be a pedo(creeping on Rhaenyra ashen she’s 15) getting with someone he considers a child(Laena cause she’s even younger than Miss Maegor). He killed his first wife in cold blood, neglected Laena(who was his most beloved wife in the book), and choked out Missy Anne.

Let’s not forget that Nettles, the person whom he loved without an ulterior motive, who shows he cares for more than just the throne and isn’t just a heartless Valyrian supremacist, is MIA.

He’s also the voice of reason on the Black council and isn’t just trying to rush into war, but that was axed in favor of Let’s attack the Greens because they killed my walking corpse of a big brother🤪

All the good parts of Daemon have been stripped away to make him into the big bad man(so far). I won’t disagree that Daemon has been shown as a badass in the show, but he’s a badass in the books as well(ex. Six men or Sixty; The Battle Above the Gods Eye; challenging Laena’s betrothed to a duel and winning her hand, etc).

That’s literally the only thing they haven’t taken away from him.

Being a badass is great and all, but that’s not a positive trait(How many villains can you name that are badass? Darth Vadar anyone? Scar, Thanos, The Joker), especially when you combine it with all the other stuff Daemon has done.

He’s not just supposed to be a badass brute. He has a personality. Ryan Condal is severely limiting him.

[qprsmackdown]

what submissions have the most convincing propaganda: rather for being silly or being serious

hi anon. mod zazie here. i read through every single one of the submissions to answer this because i am insane. and the results are as follows ^-^

techno & phil fans are INSANE over "for you phil, the world!!" as they should be!! i, too, read bunfloras' phil & techno fics. but even if i didnt already know who emeraldduo was, you all have VERY GOOD propaganda. Immortal lifelong best friends... <3

dsmp fans i love you im holding out my hand to you in a gesture of friendship. hello. both mods are also mcyt fans and dsmp fans. we know abt characters vs ccs. we also despise cc!dream. you are safe here. im sorry that previous polls have traumatized you :((

c!tubbo/c!ranboo fans also fucking turned out you have VERY convincing propaganda

ive never read the locked tomb, know nothing of the characters, but to the submitters who sent in Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus youve convinced me. VERY good job. where can i find your media i need to learn more. no like fr

jrwi fans are you okay. good lord /pos. also youll be pleased to know WE HAVE NOT ONE BUT TWO SUBMISSIONS OF THE GREATER MANA POLYCULE

to the etho/skizz fan who submitted an essay. hi. i think youre so right for putting them in a httyd au. very convincing propaganda. also are you okay.

hi silmarillion fans. do you need hot cocoa.

jrwi fans are literally so not normal about their guys. sorry to call you out but oh my god not a single one of you is normal /pos. its great.

not a fnaf fan but "Theyre also both canonically queer, if that helps. That has nothing to do with the lobotomies or the dying and being revived as a soulless walking corpse, though." is the sentence of all time. i hope whoever wrote that is doing well.

good evening to the homestuck fan who wrote jake & dirk propaganda so convincing that for a moment i wanted to go check out their media only to remember its Homestuck and ONLY to the homestuck fan who wrote jake & dirk propaganda so convincing that for a moment i wanted to go check out their media only to remember its Homestuck.

we've been over the jesus christ/mary magdalene submission but did you know apparently there's actual evidence to back it up? lots of it in fact? i did not expect to read that tonight (for future reference slash in case you're curious i am an atheist & cycad is christian)

the little women fan has some SERIOUS propaganda. my respect o7

hello to the autistic sp (south park) fan who wrote a genuine essay on kenny mccormick and eric cartman. wish you well (and like, we got a voltron submission as well. i dont know either of those shows/fandoms at all besides vague knowledge that they're not great but eh we're here to have fun. who cares (this is in response to you mentioning you didnt know if sp was allowed (i dont know actually youd have to ask cycad but im like 95% sure its fine (can you tell i have adhd))))

GIGOLAS FAN SPOTTED. they didnt write a lot of propaganda but HELL YEAH WE GOT SOME LOTR FANS HERE. theyre so qpr to me you dont even KNOW

i didnt even think about link/zelda being a qpr before this but you have convinced me. youre so right. they Are

besties who drink poison together STAY together!!! (merlin and arthur). fuck yeah baby!!! i have never seen merlin bbc

oh moirails are a homestuck thing i saw those in our asks and was unsure what they were

CANON QPR IN FABLE SMP? oh i need to check that out. fable smp fans ik this is a long shot but if anyone wants to give me reccomendations for where to start watching.

hiya qsmp fans. no need to worry you have turned out in both numbers AND propaganda. wowzers.

we have One submission for q!quackbur but now im wondering why no one has submitted c!quackbur. theyre literally homoeretic business rivals whose relationship could be viewed as platonic or romantic. smh

Roman and Youngblood from Roleslaying with Roman have very dedicated fans.

divorce quartet the divorced qp polycule ever but also im very biased. (both scott/cleo and scott/martyn were submitted multiple times)

we have some very fun ocs & real life qp relationships and im so here for it.

oh hey lifesteal smp i know those guys. wow damn theyre kinda fucked up arent they.

POLYARCHIVES SUPREMACY <3 BASEDBASEDBASED

POLYMECHS SUPREMACY ALSO SO BASED

Hi. Person who submitted both jesus/mary magdalene and now hamlet/ophelia. I love you. You are here to cause CHAOS and i for one applaud you for it. Can we kiss /j

[ravencromwell]

For the character ask game, Athos Dane: 7, 10, and 20.

7. A quote of them you remember: "No one suffers as beautifully as you." And before everyone starts laughing at my terrible cliche—it is terribly cliched, I would pair it with "My plaything is dead". The no one suffers as beautifully as you comes just after Athos's interlude with Beloc where Beloc tried, and did real damn good for a teenager, to be defiant, but eventually answered Athos's questions about his name etc. without yet having the Soul Seal on. Contrast this to Athos's "Sing for me, Holland" in ACOL, which Holland refuses to do.

Yes, Beloc is undoubtedly fun, but fundamentally, he knows how this game is going to go. The fact that Holland still has defiance, after seven years, seems to just fucking enthrall Athos. He makes Holland fill the blood goblets partially just to fuck with Kell, but also for that flicker of rage and humiliation Kell notices as being so out of character. Fundamentally, he doesn't know when Holland will give him the last scrap of power, and that's what keeps him coming back.

But any love or fascination or what have you is utterly gone once Holland is no longer a spectacle: my plaything, he says, in his own pov while talking to his sister. He feels "annoyance at his servant's incompetence" The one time he mentions Holland by name, it's to tell Kell how he and Holland are fundamentally flawed when compared to Athos.

Everything this man did for seven fucking years around Holland was either about furthering his goals or getting some kind of reaction, be it in his choice of conversation topics or experiment subjects.

Holland has a line that is so fucking sad to me in that context in ACOL where he says he never screamed if he could help it, out of the quixotic hope if Athos didn't get a reaction, he'd just kill him already. There's something so fucking tragic I don't have words for the fact that Holland's refusal to stop being a person, at least in small ways, and even the ways he tried to provoke Athos, were so much of what made him interesting enough to never let fade into the background as a particularly useful pair of hands. Because as we see with essentially sending Beloc out as canon fodder, and again with the dismissive "my plaything" comment after Holland's dead, once there's no longer potential for interesting power dynamics, he's bored moving on. 

10. Describe the character in one sentence.: "Intelligence has never tempered my desire. It merely ensures I take what I wish without consequence."—Athos Dane, to his hypothetical biographer, poor bastard.

20. A weird headcanon:

He may have learned to read on the coast primarily to sniff out magic, but when he arrives at the castle, he finds he quite enjoys books outside of magic. Vortalis was a military histories fan, which Athos "journey of the battle" absolutely fucking devours for the play by play.

Astrid likes the White London version of Caesar: careful, methodical, only moving when the field was to his advantage.

Athos, though, it's the underdogs. The White London Hannibal bringing his elephants in what everyone called folly; the Lord Caradoc/Caratacus resisting a much larger force. Just _immensely his jam.

And once he got started, he wanted more of anything Holland thought might rouse his interest. I don't think the Danes had any _reason to go to Grey London, but I suspect that by God, if the Mareshes Antari could go, they sent Holland there on the semiregular (I will play with the toys, too!) One of the things Grey had neither Red nor White did was a thriving fiction culture. And if you're one Holland Vosijk, who wants to be able to bring back some escapism for yourself, you'd better be prepared to bring back gifts.

Which leads me to: Athos Dane, sometime Shakespeare fan and more often critic.

1. Huge, huge fucking fan of Iago. Iago knows how to properly manipulate some people. (Except of course, as is the problem with so many people, he got squeamish in the end. If he had killed the messengers from Venice when they found him in the alley, he would never have needed to kill his wife and certainly never have been tortured and executed. But Iago pre–Othello Act Five: _spectacular.

2. Huge Richard III fan—likes all the histories, honestly. But that "winter of our discontent" monologue: gets him _every time. Richard, now there's a man who knows how to embrace being hated. (Though that he cares at all about fool's opinion of him just demonstrates he lacked an Astrid. Without that one person for unconditional affection and non-judgment, he could only embrace it so far.

3. Hamlet completely cracks him up in an awful way. Or rather, the ways in which Holland and Hamlet's desire for revenge mirror one another. "You thought you were Hamlet, coming down that hall and did not understand we were not his foolish uncle!"

4. The rest of it: Romeo and Juliet, the comedies, most of the other tragedies, just _trash. Characters too weak to dominate the way they should or unrealistic ("blood never denies blood what they want" he says of the Capulets etc. smiling beatifically at Astrid.

5. Astrid has the copy of Titus Andronicus. Major Queen Tamora fangirl "We shall serve the Arnesians their royals in pie," Athos says, when Astrid sighs over missing their opportunity with Holland.

Athos is very theatrical, has a multitude of ideas for how to stage the Shakespeare sets with magic when they take Arnes, and is very keen to read other plays.