doitforcamelot

[theknifeclown]

Here she is!!! As she was originally supposed to be honestly! Haha! Her name is a play on the quote "Every Cloud has a silver lining".... IDK WHY I MADE HER A BUNNY she originally was a cloud!! If you look far enough back you'll see! Her old design looks a lot like Lucy and that's because I was starting to miss OG Silvie and thought making a character that payed tribute to it would satisfy me, but I was wrong lol

[macabr3-barbi3]

I know you’re on a Vox kick rn but if you get back into Al anytime soon I had a bit of an idea!

Maybe reader was hanging out with Al, not realizing he was courting her (and she was technically accepting) and then she went out and basically cheated on him bcuz she had no clue they were low key together.

Anyway he totally flips and PROVES they’re together…?

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG AHHHHHH

I did go the nsfw route with this one so 👀👀👀 I hope you enjoy!!!

Tags: accidental cheating, semi-public sex, , possessive Alastor, tentacles as a gag sort of lol

MDNI 18+ 3.3k words ❤️🦌

You didn’t think anything of Alastor’s raised eyebrow when you accepted Angel’s offer to join him out at a club, or how his clawed hand grips his cane a little bit tighter when he spots you coming down the stairs in the outfit that the spider had picked out for you. You give him a smile and a wave on your way out the door, and if his eye twitches a little bit, well- Alastor was a weird guy.

Which didn’t negate the fact that he was hot as fuck; not to mention a complete gentleman, and funny, and overall kind when he wasn’t in a murderous rampage and eating people. And sure, he had gotten a little closer to you lately- you enjoyed a cup of coffee together every morning, he always made sure to save you a seat at the dinner table, he would get you little trinkets and bits of jewelry or treats when he was out and about in the city. Whenever you accompanied him to Cannibal Town he insisted on paying the tab, and always made sure to walk you back to your door before retiring for the night; he would invite you to his room for evening tea, and you had fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder only to awaken tucked comfortably into your bed more time than you could count. Last week he had even given you a peck on the cheek instead of just the back of your hand, a sweet blush overtaking his features before he vanished into the shadows, and it took everything in you not to grab him before he disappeared and invite him into your room.

Because Alastor wasn’t interested in those things. That was what you heard from everyone, from Angel, from Husk when you had drunkenly confessed to him at the bar one night. That it was better to just put the idea from your head, the Radio Demon has never shown any inclination towards things like love and romance or sex. You were loving getting closer to him, becoming a companion he enjoyed spending time with, but you had needs that couldn’t be met by the sweet words and kind gestures of a friend.

Hence, your presence with Angel in Consent. He was here to drink and dance; you were here for that as well, but also maybe a quick hookup in one of the club’s sex rooms. It had been far too long since you’d had a decent tumble in the sheets, and the continuous frustration at being so close to Alastor and perpetually unable to touch was driving you mad. You took the first drink that Angel handed you and knocked it back in one go, smiling when the spider whooped like a lunatic and dragged you out onto the floor.

More than an hour of accepting drinks from Angel (he was the one with money between you) and dancing with any and everyone, it was almost, almost what you needed. The air was hot with how many demons were jammed into the space of the dance floor, sweat dripped down your face and the small of your back, and your chest heaved with the force of your breathing when you finally opted to take a break. You squeezed Angel’s arm in a temporary farewell and made your way to the bar. You thought about putting one more drink on his tab but decided against it, opting to ask for water instead.

“Excuse me,” you hear to your right, and you’re met with the sight of one of the demons that Angel worked with; not one of the actors, but maybe a cameraman? Light technician? Either way, he was someone you had seen around Val’s studio before when you came to collect him at the end of the regularly scheduled nights. He was tall and attractive, and his eyes had seen too many of the shoots in Vee tower because they were just screaming ‘fuck me.’ “Think your boyfriend would object to me buying you a drink, pretty thing?”

“Considering he doesn’t exist I don’t think he would mind,” you say, and when he smiles all sharp teeth at you the low buzz of arousal isn’t quite the same as it usually is with another razor-tipped grin.

He wasn’t Alastor, but you would make do.

-.-.-

It’s barely ten minutes later that you’re walking back to the hotel alone with a stain on your nice, borrowed skirt- you figured with Angel’s line of work he would know how to get it out. You had texted him that you were going home already, too miffed about the shitshow in the sex room to ask him to accompany you, pissed enough that you think you can handle any asshole that might try to mess you with on the way. Val’s lackey had hardly managed some kissing and fingering before thrusting himself into you and giving a few quick pumps before he groaned and stilled against you. Pulling out, he trailed across your hiked up skirt and asked if you had ‘gotten there,’ and you laughed in his face before pulling your shirt back up and leaving.

“Fucking men,” you were muttering under your breath, not noticing the shadows that slipped along the sidewalk behind you as you walked with the strange sensation of the man’s release on your thighs. “Either not interested in sex at all or so fucking eager for it they bust before I can even fucking-”

Something slips around your head and covers your mouth, effectively cutting you off. Your hands come up to grab at it, tear it away, and another circles your waist, dragging you back into the dark shadows of a nearby alley. You bare your claws, eyes flashing red and preparing yourself for a fight when you realize the demon before you is Alastor.

A supremely angry Alastor, by the looks of it. His smile is tense and strained, eyebrows drawn down low in a glare as he looks down at you, nearly a full head shorter than him but refusing to cower under his rage- not realizing that you should probably be scared. “Fuck, you scared me,” you start, pulling the slack shadow tentacle away from your mouth, only for it to tighten once again and force you back into silence.

“This manner of betrayal,” he says carefully, like the words are being plucked from him with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel, “is unacceptable.” His voice goes full static, the intensity of it almost hurting your ears. “Of all the scum that inhabits Hell I’d never have expected this from you, cherie. Tell me,” he demands, trailing a clawed finger down your cheek and removing the shadow over your mouth. “What could have possibly possessed you to act in such a manner?”

“Alastor, what-” The heat of him so close to you, not quite touching but close enough that the slightest movement would slot your bodies against one another, has your brain fuzzy. “Betrayal? What are you talking about?”

“I can fucking smell him on you,” he snarls, and now he does step close enough to touch, caging you between his body and the wall behind you. “His cologne on your clothing, his release on your skin. You claim to not know what I refer to when I could just as soon touch the evidence beneath your skirt before you could deny it?”

A hand comes down to the bottom of your skirt, toying with the hem, and you nearly choke on your breath. The dying arousal you had felt earlier from the demon in the sex room returns at full force, even as confused as you were with the situation, with what Alastor was saying. “Why- fuck, why does that matter? Alastor!”

You cry out in surprise when his fingers reach under your clothing, the brush of his thumb against your inner thigh before he pulls back, the thin substance of your partner’s cum coating his finger. Your face flames with heat when he brings the digit to his mouth and fucking sucks it clean. Somehow, this seems to calm him, his breath steadier and his eyes losing some of the murderous glint to them. “That you would lower yourself in this way,” he murmurs, his smile twisting into something sarcastic and hurt, “when you’ve had an attentive, willing beau this entire time that you’ve not deigned to touch, or asked to touch you in return?”

“B-beau?” His hand has returned to the space below the hem of your skirt, tracing patterns into the soft skin there, only distracting you a little. “What-”

“Perhaps a lesson, hmm? To remind you of who, exactly, you belong to. Of course darling, we’ll first have to rid you of the evidence of your transgressions…” And in a move that shocks you almost as much as it makes your stomach clench and swoop, the Radio Demon drops to his knees on the damp, dirty asphalt of the alley.

Your breath punches out of you when he looks up at you, head level with your lower body, and asks, “or do you have any objections to that?” With his hands fisted in the fabric of your skirt.

“No! No objections, fuck, please” you manage, and then your pussy is met with the cool air of the night as he shoves your skirt up and your panties simply vanish. It’s hardly a moment of anticipation before his tongue is pressed against you, warm and slick and circling incessantly at your swollen clit and then dipping down, licking at you with determination that makes you cry out, the sound echoing in the alley. “Alast-” 

A tendril of shadow pushes past your lips, and Alastor hums against your pelvis below you. “Quiet now, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves with every word. “Already one person too many has seen you in the throes of passion tonight- I’ll be damned if there is another.” He licks your drenched folds again, the strong line of his nose keeping pressure on your clit as he angles his head and pushes in, and your hands fly off the wall to clutch desperately at his hair. The sounds coming from where he’s connected to you are loud and lewd, wet suckling noises as he bends and twists his agile muscle inside of you.

The tentacle thing in your mouth isn’t large enough to choke you, and tiny snippets of sound still escape you from Alastor’s ministrations. Your body feels like a livewire, crackling with energy that stems from where he feasts on you and threatens to shatter outwards, destroying everything in its wake. He pulls back and you whine at the loss, the shadow petting your tongue almost soothingly when Alastor looks up at you, eyes wild. “Almost finished, dear,” he murmurs. “I’ll ensure that every trace of that cretin is gone- he tastes vile, not even this much of him deserves to be anywhere near you.” He releases your skirt at last, his fingers pressing against the entrance of your cunt with a smile and his tongue swiping the evidence of what he was cleaning you of. “A cheap substitution for me, to be sure; allow me to provide a more refined alternative.” His finger hooks inside of you, mindful of the clawed tip, and drags slowly, brushing against that soft spot inside that makes you see the white of static behind your eyelids, makes you clench down hard on the digit before it slides out and Alastor stands to his full height again, satisfied that he has successfully removed the cum of the stranger, hands at his waistband and pulling his belt open with a clink of metal.

He hikes your legs up around his waist, and you feel the hot length of him pressed against your sensitive flesh. "Will you allow me to take you, darling? Feel the sweet clench of you around me at last, and erase every remnant of the unworthy sinner before me?"

“Fuck, yes, Alastor,” you pant when the tentacle slips from your mouth, and fucking finally his lips are on yours, and its everything you had been fantisizing about for months. His tongue glides against yours, licking into the wet cavern of your mouth, and you moan at the taste of yourself on him. Your voice is lost between his teeth when he presses into you, his cock like velvet coated steel against your inner walls, still pulsing and twitching from being right on the edge of your own orgasm. He groans into your mouth when he reaches the hilt, his hands tightening their grip on your hips and bucking his own forward to sheath himself further inside of you.

“Divine,” he murmurs against your mouth, sharp teeth catching on your lips and causing blood to pool on your tongue before he can suck it away. “Perfect, darling- well worth the wait, even considering the situation we find ourselves in.” Its frankly unfair how well spoken he still is, even as he steadily pounds into your willing body without so much as a catch in his breath. “I’ll never again be satisfied unless I am on the verge of spilling into the tight heat of your body. How does that sound, d-dearest?”

Finally his voice cracks, his body stuttering against yours as he fights to maintain his control. “Please,” you whisper, “please, I’ll do anything- I need it.” He laughs against your neck and drags his tongue over your sweaty skin, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be. He fucks into you with a reckless abandon that was surely going to get you caught, moans and whimpers tearing themselves from your mouth when he occasionally releases your lips to nip and suck at your skin. “I’ve wanted- for so long, please…”

“You could’ve had me,” he growls, “at any time. And instead you’ve come to this den of delinquency and allowed another to take you instead. But we’re fixing it now, darling-” His hips slam hard into you, the sound of his balls slapping your skin with every thrust the only thing you can hear under his moans, under yours, the cries that echo within the space between you.

A hand comes up to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer not for a kiss but to rest his forehead against yours. “Tell me,” he demands, and it feels like a plea with how wide and manic his eyes are, how desperately he bucks and grinds into you. “Tell me you’re mine. Promise you’ll never go to another again- that I am enough.”

“Yes,” you agree breathlessly, “yes, Alastor, please-”

“Say it,” he snarls, his sharp teeth snapping inches from your face, his smile possessed as he pounds into your cunt with a feverous need. “I need you to say it, darling, my doe, please-”

“Yours- oh fuck, please, always yours, Alastor- no one else, never again-” He cuts you off with his tongue licking into your mouth, like he means to steal your breath, to swallow you whole from the inside. He releases your head to rub skillfully at the sensitive bundle of nerves above where you’re connected, and your world goes white as you cum, a scream lost into his mouth as you shake in his embrace, internal walls clamping down with brutal force, the hard length of him inside of you more perfect than it has any right to be.He loses his rhythm against you, his pelvis stuttering with a couple more sharp thrusts before he stills, spending himself inside you with long, hot pulses that make you shiver in the aftermath of your own orgasm.

You stand there trembling against one another for a moment before Alastor assists you in standing on your own feet again, righting your skirt and getting rid of the stain on it with a snap of his fingers. He keeps his hands on you after he’s tucked himself away, over the curve of your waist, your arms, fiddling with your hands in the space between your bodies. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft and hurt.

“I must know, darling- what was I lacking?”

Your eyebrows scrunch. “What do you mean?”

“In my courting,” he clarifies, and cups your cheek in one hand. “I so wish you had come to me first if you had needs to be met- surely you must have a reason for why you didn’t do so?”

“Courting? What are you talking about?” 

He freezes, the static fading from the air around you in mere moments and Alastor searching your eyes. “I mean myself, of course,” he says, and while his voice is clear there’s a hint of surprise to it. “We’ve been courting for the better portion of a year.”

“We’ve what?” You think of the closeness you had shared for a while, the gifts and friendly touches and such that you had been interpreting as mere platonic affections. “Oh Satan,” you breath, as you realize you’ve been misunderstanding this whole time- he wanted you to touch him. He wanted to touch you- he was upset thinking that you had gone elsewhere when he would have been more than happy to-

Alastor’s hand leaves your skin and he takes a step back. “You… you accepted, dear,” he says imploringly. “My- my gestures, my affections. I thought-'' His eyes widen and his smile goes tense, his entire body following suit. “It would seem I owe you an apology, darling. I see that the situation at hand has come about of my own incorrect assumptions.” His shadows retreat, the shape of his form already less than corporeal when you let your hand dart out to wrap around his arm as he tries to slink away.

“No! Wait, please, I didn’t know-” He resolidifies before you, his expression still guarded as he looks down at you. “I promise- if I had known I would have never come out with Angel tonight. I thought- everyone told me you weren’t interested in sex or relationships, so even though I had those feelings I wasn’t going to make it your problem.”

“Hence your presence here tonight.” He sighs, the tension melting from his body as he comes closer again, reaches out for you and holds your face in his hand. “I was trying to be courteous in my courting of you; taking it slow so as not to startle you away. You truly didn’t realize with the time I spent with you, the small gifts and gestures?”

“I didn’t want to assume anything and make you make a run for it.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small, half annoyed half incredulous huff accompanying the movement. “It seems a bit of communication might have saved us both the wasted time. I admit I feel like a fool, for not simply being upfront regarding my intentions.”

You also felt like an idiot- instead of talking to him you had let the others scare you out of months of what could've been nights full of blissful pleasure rather than frustrated tossing and agonizing over your own feelings. Just before you could open your mouth to tell him how sorry you were for the mess you felt you caused, he was already speaking, his voice soft and yet rough around its edges. 

"Well, then let's not cry over spilled milk. Too many moments were wasted already, we won't waste one another with useless apologies, since I believe both of us have made our standpoints quite clear a few minutes ago, don't you agree, darling?"

As if to help you recount, he presses his forehead on yours, a slender arm wrapping around your waist, and you can't help but smile back at his grinning face. He doesn’t release you as he allows you both to drop into shadows, and you can’t wait to see what life will be like properly at Alastor’s side.

[orionlain]

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 note: I came back from 2 month hiatus go me! anyways ur gonna see me post more on diff fandoms other than horror. sorry bout that guys love u all tho

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐁𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐚𝐧

Your window was open for everyone to see, the curtains being put aside, and with that he could easily take a peek at you.

The mirror light bulb shined upon your skin as you were carefully putting your highlighter around the corner of your eyes. The little specks of glitter and your rosy lip balm complimented your looks, and your hair was put in a tidy style. People would assume you were going on a date. A hookup, a party or the bar. But instead, you were staying home tonight. Why? For your job, which was to open the camera and say hello to your followers.

As you finished your foundation and last touch ups, you started setting up the camera in your computer. Browsing from each web page, and quickly announcing that you were going live for all your fans to flock to your stream. You were grateful for your followers, for the money, but as well as them giving the new found confidence you have nowadays. Your outfits had become more flashier, bold and a bit more risque, and he didn’t like that. Your smile lingered on more, and you received more texts than usual, and he didn’t like that. Your new height of fame and laughter was making you less alert. And that was the only thing he liked, knowing that one day you’ll meet your number one fan, which was him.

He couldn’t lie though, the outfits weren’t so bad, he just wished you wouldn’t have to flaunt it to others. Or that pretty gasp you have on camera when you play a horror game, he wished that you were doing that as he put his knife into you instead. He wished, for everything that you were doing, to those stupid men in the same doormat as you, to those girls who were forcing you to party, to those pesky followers who abide by you no matter what you say; was for him instead. And he wanted so much of you. Even if you didn’t know him, and he was there in front of your house right now as you stream, he wanted you to smile for him as well.

It's been months he's been watching you, he knows what coffee you like, what route you take to go to your lecture, what you order in that nearby bakery. He knows who you interact with in real life, your study friends and your family members, he knows which albums you loved when you went to the vinyl store. And he knows what you do at home. You yell and shout at the game, you make niche jokes about your interests to chat. You scroll down in your constant approvals from the masses, you converse to other creators from an entirely different place of the world.

He knows your two lives. And he found it endearing, found it to be so different from all the other victims he had. When nobody knows what you say and what you are in real life, he does. When nobody on the internet knows what location you were at and what you were studying, he does. He found it so special. Of course, he came into the conclusion he was truly your biggest fan. Whether you put that stupid mask on and off, and you become insane from your two lives blurring into another, he’ll have front row seats to such an event. How sweet.

Ghost_F: Nice shirt cupcake.

“Oh Ghostie! You’re too sweet.” You responded in a flush state. To be honest, you always laughed at the nickname you gave to this fan. You gave this name after he became such a vital follower in the past four months. You can say he was rapidly coming close to being your most noticeable one, after he constantly catches up with your streams daily. He was also giving a hectic amount of money, where you had no clue coming from. Well, he didn’t want you to know that money came from the victims he murdered with cold blood. Maybe next time.

Ghost_F: Whatcha doin’?

“Mhm? I don’t know Ghostie. I believe I’m just gonna talk today. How bout it, chat?” That shirt on you was slowly hanging more down as you face more to the screen, he could see that bra he saw a week ago on a night. It looked good on you. Although, it would’ve been better if there weren't eighty people seeing this as well.

And to his annoyance, your followers agreed to the idea. You were just gonna sit there and stay pretty, which he didn’t mind, but he would rather hear your screams again as you play a game. But, you don’t need a horror game for today. He’ll find a way to help you yelp and cry later.

“Alright chat, let's check the timeline for today- Uh.” You turn your head.

There was a knock on the door. Package delivery? You didn’t order anything. You stand up out of your seat and open your door. There was nothing on the ground. Probably one of those annoying college dudes who prank dorms.

“Sorry, chat! There was a knock on the door. But it was nothing! God, my neighbors are assholes.”

You continued to your stream and shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. You casually just scrolled down onto your posts and saw what was happening to the latest news of your favorite games and movies. Small comments back and forth, making you chuckle, but nothing out of the ordinary. Until one viewer sent out a message in chat.

“Don’t you get scared at night? There's like a killer running around in the streets of your state.”

A fan warned. You heard about the murders happening around the state, especially in your town. But you didn’t seem to be phased by it, knowing how much serial maniacs plague this country with states such as Illinois and Ohio, you became desensitized. Though, you didn’t know so much about the recent papers about this prolific guy.

“Well, I don’t know much about him.” Your chat quickly was then filled with information and rumors. Some say he came from the deep levels of hell, sadistic and twisted. Others told how he looked, how he was covered with a ghastly mask and a dark cloak hiding his figure. More talked about the victims, how they were left in a bloody gruesome mess. Word around the street, he goes by the name Ghostface, because of his uncanny mask. All in all, it freaked you out a little. This man is out free swinging his knife and no police were able to catch him. You started getting paranoid.

Ghost_F: You guys are scaring her. Sweets, don’t listen to them.

“Yeah, chat! I don’t even go out at night, I stay home and talk to you guys. And the likely chance of me getting snatched, is pretty low” You giggle it off.

“Anyways, I’m probably not his type.” You were so wrong.

As you were facing the screen and fidgeting around your hair, you swore you something in the corner of your eye. It stopped you in your tracks. You froze in front of the camera. All of your followers were concerned, asking if you were okay.

“Ah, it’s nothing guys. I’m probably just being paranoid after you guys scare me like that!” You resumed your cool facade. You didn’t want them to know that your legs were bouncing up and down in anticipation for what's next. But you soon finally let yourself calm down, telling your brain it's probably some silly animal or neighbor.

You heard a thump. What was that?

Now you were fully freaked out. You jump out of your setup and slowly walk to the kitchen, to get a pan. You tiptoed to your door, and waited for the figure to come here. The thumping of your heartbeat was all you could hear in your ears, and your breath became anxious as you feared for an intruder coming in. No, no not like this.

In a countdown, you open the door once more. It was bare. Nothing, but you could see a hint of a footprint. Dirt? Blood? You couldn’t tell as it was mixed within the colors of the hallways carpet. But something was going on. And yet you close the entrance to your home, shrugging it off to keep up with your stream. You come back to where you reside, and update your followers. Telling them constantly there was nothing wrong. You brush it off, hoping for them to stop trying to interrogate what had happened. You didn’t wanna think about it too much.

Soon, minutes passed and you finally had your fans stop nagging and continued with the next topic. The nerves in your body were finally going down, and you could see yourself sinking into the chair with relaxation. Nevermind what had happened, it wasn’t your problem anyways.

You received a message.

Who was it? The notification went on your screen, and you check on your account on who it was. Hoping it isn’t a scammer or some creep.

It was revealed to be your follower, Ghostie. Hello, it said.

You message him, asking what’s up. No response. You waited for some sort of confirmation or reply after he said a simple hello. Ominous and a little worrying. You sat there, furrowing your brows as you stood by. The stream was finally coming to a close, and there was still no updated news from the man. You sighed, you’re going to leave it be.

Ghost_F donated 2000 dollars.

“Holy shit! Ghostie, what the hell?” He was toying you at this point. This mysterious user was playing mind games with you, and you had no clue why. Just a pitiful gut in your feelings, waiting and responding with surprises. The night was getting even stranger.

Everybody in the chat was shocked. Praising the guy for the huge donation and telling you deserved it. You felt lost of what to say, how do you even reply to such a generous amount of money? If he keeps it up, your entire debt would be gone by the end of the month. And you couldn’t help but feel shameful, thinking about how you didn’t really do that much. You sat around and played games, there was nothing honorable or worth spending a gold bar on.

“Jesus Christ! That’s the biggest donation I-I ever received.” You look at the camera with your face feeling a little flustered.

“How can I make it up to you?” This will bite you in the ass later.

The man privately messaged you. It says;

Go on a call with me, sweets. Stay on live.

Sketchy, but you didn’t wanna ruin this generous deal. You obliged, and you tell your following that you’ll go on a call with him, expressing your happiness and thanks. None of them opposed the idea, they probably wanted to interact with this unknown user who came into the community out of nowhere. Joking about how this bizarre online stranger was going to make you end up like those victims. And you were curious too, who was this guy? Who was Ghost?

His profile was just a default one, no bio, no additional excerpts, just a username. Hesitating at first, the unknown user startled you, it made you draw back and doubt. But you ignored your gut screaming at you to stop. You wanted to make your number one supporter happy, nothing bad right?

You started the phone call. Sitting there, anticipating for him to join.

“Hello?”

“Hey doll.” Wow. His voice was smooth and raspy. You blushed at the sound of his words, it was all rugged and yet deep. It was attractive, especially with that name he called you, you couldn’t help but feel heat rising on your cheeks. And chat wasn’t helping either, spamming in with comments of how nice he sounded, teasing with your sudden reaction, you could feel embarrassment furrowing into your body.

“Um- well I want to say a huge thanks to you man. Thanks Ghostie!”

He chuckled. Don’t do that!

“No problem sweet’s. You can make it up to me.” His comment piqued your interest. What can you do in return for his huge donation? Play a game? Do a silly prank? Or wear a costume? You didn’t know, but as much as bad as it sounded, it made you curious. The deal was so lucrative. It weighed like a mouse leading to a trap, and you were still wanting to know more. About him. About this mysterious man. About this fan that you couldn’t help but have your eyes on. You needed to know more.

“Pfft- Do I have to wear a cute dress or something?” You tease.

“Oh no doll, I wish though,” Huh? “Just a question would do.”

A question? This guy was really strange. Out of all the things he could’ve told you to do, he wanted to just ask you a question. Hell, you would’ve actually worn something for him if you really had to. He disregarded that option though. Something more he had in mind it seems.

“What’s your favourite horror movie?”

Strange, but nonetheless intriguing. You look back into your memory, thinking of the multiple movies you have watched. You always loved the horror genre, so it would be harder to pick out which ones you loved the most. Nightmare on Elm Street, Hellraiser, Texas Chain Massacre, the list goes on, and you didn’t want to pick such a basic answer. Thinking back to your recent watches, you reminded yourself that you watched Halloween. And you enjoyed that movie, so you’ll use that as an answer.

“Mhm, Halloween. The guy with a white mask and blue outfit.”

“Good pick, cupcake. Why though?”

“Well it was a really good movie, it had a lot of scares and had me tense for a little bit and- chat don’t say that!” Oh god. Chat was telling your real honest opinion of the movie, and said you were lying. Laughing and spreading emotes, and told Ghostie that you liked the movie because of the killer. In a drunken state of mind in one of your past streams, you mentioned that you had the hots for Myers. It haunted you ever since, and you forgot that people remember that little fact of yours. You were punching yourself in the inside, dying from all the humiliation.

“You have a crush on Myers?” He asked, chuckling on the side. He was happy knowing he was your type.

“Yeah. God that’s so bad. I-I don’t know how to explain it, I mean he’s a killer!” You giggled in response. Admitting to how hilarious and humbling it is. All the while, the other side of the phone is smiling underneath the mask. Smirking with your cute answer, he can’t help but to awe at your little face cringing from chat nagging on to you. He couldn’t wait for you to realize that he was one too. A dirty, murderous, criminal, who has eyes on you. He couldn’t wait for you to look at him and see your adorable face.

“It’s not that bad, sweets. People love bad boys.” You could hear his grin even if you didn’t see his face.

“Ok, ok, just ask me a different question!”

“Alright, alright. Hm. You got a guy?” Oh christ! You stood aghast, a little shocked from the boldness. In front of viewers too, he didn’t care that you had fanboys or loyal people loving you. Yet, you played along, wanting to tease around as if you were interacting with a beast. You were too curious to give up.

“No, I’m too busy with streaming and school. Are you hitting on me or something?” His laughter ensued, it sounded mischievous.

“I don’t know, am I? Tell me doll, do you think I am?” He was playing with you. Taunting you. You didn’t know how to respond, it made you stutter with your words. You hated it so much. But, god, was it attractive.

“I mean- I don’t know! I think you are!” His laugh became even more boisterous. You were just so fun to tease. He never had a victim like this in a while. Never had a girl like you being so eager and yet so hesitant. It amuses him, your defiance brings him entertainment like never before.

“Oh cupcake! You’re making me laugh.” You giggle back to him. “I just have one more question.”

“Ok, ok. What Ghostie?”

“Where do you live?”

What?

You froze. You didn’t know if you were hallucinating what he just said, but the silence told you otherwise. He means it. Chat became quiet. They were just sending messages with emojis seconds ago, and now becoming fearful as you were. Your mouth went dry, and you could feel your throat perk up.

“I can’t, can’t say that.” Your eyes well up, what do you do?

His breath was becoming noticeable. And his voice changed into a more sinister tone.

“That’s okay. I already know anyway.”

He immediately left. And you look to chat. They were just as puzzled and terrified as you were. Shaken to your core, you end the stream. What just happened? It was supposed to be a joke, but now it ended up as something much more threatening and dark. Due to this, you jumped out of your seat, and ran to the door for the third time.

Checking the peephole, hoping to not see a single being outside your unit. Your hands were shaking. Nervous and petrified, you get away from the entrance again. Your brain was playing tricks with you, or there really was someone else playing with you.

Though, you could hear notifications going off in the background. Your fans were concerned for you. Asking if you were okay, if you were safe, and all you could respond with was a yes. It was a troll you assume. A terrible, scary one to be exact. Until a message popped up onto the top of your screen.

Ghost_F: See you soon.

Alarmed, you press onto the profile. It was deleted. Content unavailable. You were fucking freaked out. You called your friends, hoping to be comforted and gain help. But no response avails.

You sat there on your chair instead. Heart beating to the extreme lengths to the point where you could hear it ringing in your ears. Staring at the screen, looking at the message, trying to see if you can decipher its cryptic tone. Hoping to think positively, you put it aside and think it’s a joke. All streamers go through it, having a creepy encounter with viewers, and this is the same thing. Nothing dangerous is going to happen, it’s just some weirdo freaking you out. Right? Yeah it is. It’s just an offhand interaction.

Sighing, you closed the computer and went to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up and pondering to yourself, if that was really true. And coming back to your bed, relaxing as you scroll on your phone to remind people that it’s just a troll. Mentioning you thousand of times with concern, and telling you it was a real threat. Although, you ignored it. Was it actually a threat? Probably not, because it’s been hours since the incident, and you were laying down on the bed. Nothing was going to happen.

You rest your eyes, and think ahead of the stupid troll. The creep with a sultry voice. You didn’t wanna mind it. It was just a fake threat after all.

You woke up. You heard a thump within the walls. Probably the neighbor's cat is acting up again. With your foggy brain and eyelids, you travel to your hallway and press the light switch to check what was there. You couldn’t tell if there was something black in your eyes, but you presumed it was nothing. You finally ended up in the kitchen from your hazed walk, and glanced at what was ahead of you.

The kitchen was empty. No creepy dude, it was fake!

You walked and got a glass in your cupboards. Your shorts were slowly sliding up as you tried to stretch to get a cup in the back of your cutlery. Feeling your shirt also slowly lifting up as you grabbed the object. Your feet finally face the ground when you are done getting the glass, and you turn your back around. Incline to having it be filled with water.

“Boo.”

The glass dropped. Forget water. You shrieked in horror. It was a man covered in a mask, cloaked with a black hood. The mask was detailed with a look of horror, eyes piercing hollow black, and wrinkles to enhance the uncanniness.

“You’re even cuter in real life.” No. No. No.

It was the killer your chat was talking about. It was the mysterious man who sent you the donation. And it was the user who threatened you on call. It all added up. You could feel you chastise your brain for being so foolish, for being so damn stupid. For being so curious.

“I-Is that you?” Your voice shakes in fear. He responds by caressing your face, and pining you closer to the counter beneath the cupboards you were just rummaging into. You feel your back slowly leaning back into the furniture, as he goes closer to you.

“Uh huh, it’s me baby.” His pet names made your stomach churn.

“Are you happy to see me, hm? I think you should be. I mean, I saw you blushing just by the sound of my voice, sweets.” He cackles at the end of his sentence. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed the way you looked at him with those pretty eyes of yours, pleading for his mercy. It was better than he imagined.

“You’re- you’re the killer? You’re, you’re-“

“Ghostface. That’s right baby. Awh, don’t tell me you’re terrified? Earlier, you said you had a little crush on Michael. I’m exactly your type. Maybe a little more talkative, but you get the idea sweetheart!”

He was snarky, condescending and overall, fucking with you. You didn’t know what else to muster but a little placid gasp as he leaned into you. He was built entirely different from yours, toppling your body. His hold backed you into a corner, defenseless and armless. It was a recipe for the end of your life.

“Look at you. Trying so hard to look away from me-“ His sharp blade went to your throat. Forcing you to stare at his blank dark eyes. You still resisted. “Don’t be such a bitch. I gave a generous donation, didn't I? Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy killing all of the guys crushing on you and stealing their money.”

“The fuck! You freak-“

“Freak? Rich coming from you. Babe, I’ve seen your search results.” He chuckled harshly. Oh god.

“It’s filled with some of the sickest shit. You love a killer. You know it’s so, so, so bad to like a man like me?”

“And your kinks. Oh sweet girl, you’re just asking to be gutted. And not in a bloody way either.” Even if he was covered behind a whole costume, you can practically hear his maniac smile. You can hear the tone of voice being clouded with figments of lust, and you hated it. But you proved his point, you could feel yourself squeezing your thighs, for some sort of stimulation, friction or movement.

“Mhm, I know what you’re doing sweetie. So needy.” His words were going to kill you before he ever could. It made your heart thump and filled your belly with butterflies. The attention was getting to you. You had to start thinking fast, to defend yourself in some sort of way. But his body and twisted words held you back from doing so. Although, that unwashed pan in the sink may be the trick. With no thought, you swiftly grabbed the cooking instrument, and swung into his head.

“FUCK! You goddamn whore, you’re going to fucking get it!”

You ran. Ran as fast as you could like those final girls in the movies you watch. Ran towards your bedroom, hoping to escape by jumping out of a window. It wasn’t the greatest plan, but breaking your leg out of survival, seems to be so much better than being a news headline. As you hastily open the glass window, sliding it in a painful slow motion, you put your whole body to ensure you flee. Outside was waiting for you, and you could see yourself escape from the monster. Just as you were so close to getting out of the building, you felt the hem of your shirt being tugged.

You tumbled down, hitting the floor. He grabbed you away from freedom.

“That was close. Ha, cupcake, you gotta be the feistiest one yet,”

“Makes you all the more of a treat to me.”

He puts his boot onto your back, stepping on your laying body. He tied you up with scattered ropes and brandished you like a present. You could feel your lungs giving up as he put more pressure into your figure, and your eyes started to tear up out of pain. Whines could be heard out of your mouth and you forced curses to be thrown towards your intruder.

“I warned you, didn’t I bitch?” He took a fist full of your hair, making you have to kneel and look at him. Putting you in a position that was very revealing. Right in front of his crotch. It was embarrassing, and yet your body was heating up.

“Just get on with it. Kill me.” Your comment was then returned with laughter. As if you were the one that’s insane.

“No, no, no way sweets. I have so much more to do with you, y’know?” He lowered his body, titling his head as he was now in your eye range. With his movement mocking you, as if you were a little puppy. “I’m doing a favor for you, baby.” His hands traced onto your legs, dangerously reaching down into inner thighs.

“You wanted a sick man to fuck you, right? I’m going to do that. I’m going to make you scream, making up for all the times that I saw you touching yourself, thinking about a slasher like me fucking you. I’m going to make you cry, making up for all those men who didn’t pound you right.” His gloved hands were now placed upon your pussy. Rubbing you up and down on your clothed slit, eliciting sweet sounds from you. You cried out to him, and he responded by making his fingers go faster.

“I’m going to make you mine. The only fucking thing you’ll think about is me, a murderer.” His touch was fucking you stupid, drool slowly dripped out of your mouth. He took notice of that and giggles ensued from his mouth. You were being so obedient, in such little time.

“Good girl. Look at you! I’m just rubbing your cunt, and you’re whimpering like a bitch. Fuck, baby.” There he finally stopped teasing you, and swiftly plunged his fingers within your shorts. A yelp escaped out of your throat, and he laughed even more. Panting, your hand grabbed his wrist, hoping for him to stop going so rough. It was immediately shut down, by his arm pinning your palms down. Showing how much more power he had over you. Manhandling you like a little toy.

“Ha- Ghos- Ghost-“

“You can’t even form a sentence. Fucking slut.” In a second, he stopped moving. He took his fingers out of your insides and you whined loudly. No no no! You were so close!

“You don’t deserve to cum. Not fucking yet. You will when you’re done your part, sweets.” He stood up, and towered over you. His hands were now fidgeting with the zipper of his pants, rushing for his erection to breathe. His ache lasted for hours, even before he came to visit you. When he was calling with you, he was so fucking close to just whipping his cock out and fisting it up and down with the sound of your voice. His obsession with you was that bad. It made him even more insane, seeing you afar and in hearing you, your flesh drove him crazy. With your ass around, he couldn’t focus on writing reports of his own victims, since his attention was all to you. He hated it. He hated how much he needed to fuck you, or kill you, it didn’t matter either way, he just had to have you. To make up for all the times he was too distracted to kill or report on news.

His dick finally came out of his slacks and hooded cloak. You were a little entranced. It’s been fucking ages since you took one in your mouth, probably because of him killing all of your suitors, and you felt unprepared.

“Suck. And don’t even fucking think of putting your teeth onto me.” You obliged. With your hands out of the questions, you made sure your mouth was able to take it. Slowly, you teased upon the tip and quickly made your way down his length. And with that, he responded with grunts.

“Fuckk, god. You’re so fucking good at this cupcake.” His hands fondled the top of your head. Resulting into him tugging the strands of your hair.

“Your mouth is so tight. Expected from a bitch like you. I can’t wait to fucking gut your pussy.” He rasped out, and soon his hands had moved to his rhythm onto your skull. Forcing you to bob up and down his dick. Your throat was now filled to the brim, and you started choking. He could hear you struggle, you mouthing that you couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t care. He kept on going, and your oxygen was dying out.

But he finally stopped when he realized you were going to actually pass out. Controlling himself from throatfucking you to unconsciousness, mainly because he wanted to hear more of your whimpers, but he considered you lucky. “Breathe babe, breathe.”

Taking a fresh gasp of air, away from the penetrating taste, he held your hair to the back. This probably was the only time he was ‘kind’ to you. And then you quickly went back.

Thrust after thrust, he was coming close. It was noticeable as his hands were becoming more frantic. Craving for a release. All the while you were squirming your legs for some sort of stimulation. The wet pooling onto your panties was driving you insane. You needed to be filled up, bad.

Finally he came into your mouth. The tangy substance filling up the space. Little drops were slowly falling down but he quickly wiped it from your face, looking proud of his work.

“Swallow it for me babe.”

You obeyed.

“Atta girl.”

You got up. But he quickly deflected your action.

“Ah ah. I’m not done yet.”

You looked at him with a furrow. As horny as you were, you still hoped this would be done shortly. But he still continues. Fuck.

“What- I thought-“

“Mr. Ghostface, please don’t tell me you’re gonna fuck me!” He mocked. “C’mon, I like my toys stupid, but you can’t be that fucking dumb babe.”

He pushed you into the bed. You lay upon your sheets catching your breath, and your cute top had a little peak of your breasts. Your face was filled with slob, and your shorts were absolutely drenched. A beautiful sight indeed.

“Wait, before I ruin you, let me just-“

He whipped out a camera from his back pocket.

Click!

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He constantly rubbed on your thigh as he did a whole photoshoot of your body. Your back arches little by little as he continues to stimulate your skin. And his hand slowly takes something out of the backsides of his pants. A knife. You yelped out of surprise.

“Oh baby, don’t worry. I’m just going to remove your clothes. I’m not going to hurt you,” He snickered. Putting the blade upon the fabrics and ripping it apart to give a pathway. But he intentionally cuts a little part of your skin as he forcefully parts your pants. Allowing him to brand you. “Yet.”

Finally, you were bare. Fully naked and vulnerable in front of this clothed intruder.

“You look even better up close, y’know? Fuck. I just knew you were perfect for me.” His dick was caressing your folds, making you scrunch your eyes in response to control your whimpers. You were so sensitive, that little tears started forming from your eyes. “Maybe I should just fucking take you away. Maybe I should just keep you in some basement, naked and shivering, huh? But knowing from you, you’d probably fucking like it.”

“You’re a whore, you know that?” All you could respond was cute little grunts to his stimulation and comments, “Mhm, but you're my whore.”

He inserts it with no warning. You gasp out of shock. His dick was really caressing the corners of your insides. And you could feel contraction from the penetration. It felt like it couldn’t fit at all.

“Sh-shit! So god damn tight! God-“ Ghostface was spasming from the way you tightened around him. Even with the slow pace, it felt agonizingly strained and painful. But you didn’t mind at all, because of how much it was stretching you so well. Filling up the need and wants in every right direction.

“So- so much!” You whined. You didn’t know if you were pleading him to take it slow, or go rapidly fast, but you definitely wanted him to keep going. To keep pushing you to the brim until you can’t think anymore, fucked with no words left to speak. To keep rubbing up and down till you start screaming, babbling with no thoughts to fill in your head. You needed this so bad.

“I know, I know- fuck, christ doll.” The masked man shuddered upon his words. He was as smitten as you were. The way your hole pulsed and tightened as he went further. The way your face is all flushed and cute as he rammed into you. The way your breasts move up and down as he makes you spasm and moan. Your cute little eyes, struggling to keep wide open from the hazy sex. He really couldn’t get enough of you. He really wanted to you fuck you up more and more.

“Ha- I knew you would fucking like this. You love being a sick freak taking in a murderer's cock. You love it, don’t you, don’t you baby?” His hands were caressing your skin as you whimpered. The latex stimulating you as your mind runs wild on the touches and senses you were feeling. At this rate, you were going to finish, and it couldn’t help when you were contracting more and more.

“Yeah that’s right. I could feel your fucking cunt clenching me, you gonna cum? Hm?”

You gave no response, too dazed to comprehend what he said. He slapped your face for you to snap out of your drunken phase.

“I said, whore. Are you gonna cum around my cock?”

“Y-yes!” He started going faster. Abusing your cunt even more and more. You started gasping for air with the amount of assault he was doing to you. Bringing you to the edge. “Mr. Ghostface I-Im going to-“

“Aww, it’s so much isn’t it? Well too fucking bad. You can only cum when I say so, so fucking take it. Or i’ll fucking slice your throat into two.” He maliciously spat.

“Or are you that desperate that you would rather have me fucking gut you, just so you can cum? I wouldn’t even be surprised.” Laughing ensued after he remarked how pathetic and dumb you look. You were all mindless, continuously just taking in and out like a toy. And the worst part, you enjoyed it, loved it and wanted more and more.

“I’ll be nice this time. Beg for me.”

“Huh?” You muttered, confused and not knowing what he just ordered.

“I said beg. Are you fucking stupid? Beg. Beg for you to fucking cum. I know how much you fucking need it.”

You swallowed your pride. It’s too late to do anything more to save your face. Look at the state you were in. Sweat, back arching and drool slowly forming from your mouth. Nothing is reputable with this. You looked like a whore. And he knew damn well he made you into one.

“Ple-please.?”

“Is that all you got? Beg. Beg fucking harder!” He slapped your cunt in order to elicit a reaction out of you.

“I- fuck- fuck! Please, pleasee! Please let me cum! Please, Mr. Ghostface! Please, I need it! I fucking need it! I need it so bad! I need you to fucking fill me! Just- let me- me cum!” You were babbling at this point. Saying all of this under his will.

“I need it so bad! I need it. I need you! I need you!” You reached for his mask. Showing how terribly desperate you wanted for some kind of release.

“Atta fucking girl.” He put his mask to the side. “Come here.”

He penetrated with his tongue inside your mouth. You whisper and moan, faltering around his body. Your arms were frenzied all over his shoulders. You were needy. And most of all, so fucking horny.

“You wanna cum? Yeah?”

“Uh huh!”

“Go ahead, sweets. Cum around my cock. I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” There it went, his pace going harder and harder. Louder and more frantic.

“Cum for me. Cum for me, pretty. Cum for your fucking killer.”

And you did. With a loud whine you came around everywhere. A load filling you up as you spasm with his dick still in you. Your body automatically faltered on the bed, tired and so fucking full. He pulled out, having your cunt leak out all the fluids. You were absolutely fucking gutted.

Click!

You heard a camera snap. You would’ve protested but your legs would have probably given up if you tried.

“I’m keeping that one baby. Displaying it on the top of my fridge.”

“Here.” As his last ‘gift’ to you, he marked your neck. A purple bruise, prominent and easily noticeable.

“Stream tomorrow, cupcake. And show my fucking mark on you proudly.”

He wanted to make sure he was definitely your favorite follower. Wanted to show everyone one of your fans that you’re his now. And it was completely obvious with how much he had made you into his.

Next time, he’ll do it live. And maybe, he’ll bring some other fans he knows of.

Maybe that son of a bitch, Michael would join in.

“I’m your biggest fan, sweets. Don’t forget that.” He said, leaving you in your bed, while he left your house.

And he believed that you already knew.

[halenhusky309]

Transformers : One spoiler

I dread for the day that most people watched Transformers : One, because of the amount of takes that basically put the blame on Orion Pax for pushing D-16/Megatron to snap (And then sneakily calling Orion Pax as someone wanted to protect status quo and didn't want to tear down the system simply because he didn't have that need to violently put the oppressors down like some types of common low-lives and force everyone to follow his crusade to screw the system).

Very spoiler!!!!! Warning

Orion Pax tried to stop D-16/Megatron from killing Sentinel has nothing to do with "we became as bad as him if we murder that cunt". It's more like "You're being unhealthy with your hatred and I don't think you should continue with this train of thoughts". And I promise you that Orion didn't that much fuck about Sentinel's well-being. He's afraid for D-16 and whatever direction his friend would become.

Orion Pax noticed how his dear friend began to go down to a very dark part, and he would never stop to spiral down further, even if he murdered Sentinel and his lackies brutally. And D-16 hasn't expressed any contigent plans to change the system into sth better, and all he cared about was how to punish and humiliate Sentinel in a most terrible way possible. And the way he acted toward Starscream and the High guards is peak red flag for potential dictatorship and oppression that use fear, violence, and hatred, which is parallel to Sentinel's own brand of opression that filled with lies, manipulation and exploitation.

And sorry to burst this bubble, but D-16/Megatron isn't the one who is revolutionary. That's Orion Pax's thing. Orion was the only one noticing And it will be funny to see the take "Orion wants to maintain the system" when this little shit first thought when learning about the truth is to expose Sentinel's fake-ass to the mass and rally the oppressed folks to rise up against Sentinel and the system. But I guess it's not violence or brutal enough for some people to acknowledge that Orion is going for the least destructive route to tear down the system because he valued life more.

This is not saying Orion Pax's solution for dismantling the system is the best and only way to go, and sometimes violence can be the best answer in certain circumstances. But if your the whole revolution is based solely on violences, killings and basically tearing down everything to satisfy your hatred/grievances without any considerations for the casualties, consequences, and priorities to rebuild the system, it become a pointless and selfish movement that will actually never bring any substantial changes besides sufferings and tragedies.

[demodraws0606]

Guys...I think Whit is the culprit.

Sorry guys this is gonna be a long one

You know I'm a big believe of Whit mastermind theory and depending on how the trial goes he could still be the mastermind despite being the culprit but uhm...

Mf has like an 80 pourcent chance of being the culprit

My theory of Levi being the culprit kinda has went down the drain though i'm not really that upset about it because it was admitidely the most generic route.

I still do not buy for a second Eden is the culprit mainly because it contradicts a lot of her behaviors and also is only really based on one piece of evidence that could be explained by something else.

I think the most credible option to me right now, is Whit, especially because with how certain things are laid out for us we can actually make out a concrete motive for why Whit would do this.

I'm gonna write down what I think and explain why I believe Whit is most likely the culprit (also i'll deal with a couple of holes and explain why the theory still works alongside them) and also i'll use a couple of speculations made by other people as well

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think it's known by everyone that the way Whit's secret was revealed is extremely strange, for like two reasons.

One, it means that it's impossible for anyone (including Whit himself, we'll get into that later) to have known what Whit's secret was, or to confirm it with certainty in the trial. We only have Whit's word for it.

Second, Whit takes a very strange amount of time until saying what secret he has, like right after Hu denied to say which secret she has. Which is extremely weird because if his life was so uneventful wouldn't he have managed to pick out a secret as blatant as this.

I thought this would be meant as a red herring to put suspicions on Whit however with Levi revealing his secret and this loose thread still not being addressed, I think it has to be important to the case at hand.

Now, despite people pointing this out every analysis that tries to handle this kinda goes into a brick wall because it immediatly assumes that Whit is lying about the dead mother secret being his. However there's too much pointing towards Whit having the dead mom secret.

No, I think we're going about this the wrong way. It's not about us not knowing what Whit's secret was, it's that Whit had no idea what secret actually was his

In fact that's mentionned before trial on how Whit just didn't know WHAT his secret even was, and no one could really tell him what it was because Rose threw it away

But that's weird right ? You would think Whit would know that his dead mother would be the likely secret, you could argue he just didn't want to share with everyone but that still doesn't explain the strange amount of time until he revealed he had Rose's secret.

And if he didn't want to share that his mom was dead, why did he let everyone the opportunity to say if they had his secret and to spill the beans...

Unless things are more complicated than just Whit having a dead mom, after all if it was just that wouldn't he have known immediatly that was his secret ? After all Teruko had the same issue as well as she didn't know what her secret could actually even be.

You could argue that I put my back against the wall here. If Whit not knowing his secret was his motive as to why he commited the murder then why did he let a bunch of people the opportunity to air out a potentially incriminating secret. Wouldn't that mean he wasn't worried about it ?

However, you have to keep in mind Whit had no idea how bad the secrets were, the only secrets that was revealed was J's which in retrospect of other secrets seemed like a much lighter one.

You could argue "Well Whit had David's secret which was pretty bad" however despite how bad that secret was it was also very vague and since Whit didn't know how much about David it doesn't really mean much on how deep the secrets were.

Considering Whit's personality as well, it was possible he was in denial or some deeper reason as to why he wasn't thinking about it. "Bitter things need to go down the drain" and all that.

In fact Whit was one of the first ones to say they shouldn't reveal their secret before J's secret was immediatly revealed.

I also don't think Whit being in denial has to be rooted in logic either (especially with how inconcistent he seems to be about the secrets), the murder was commited right before the deadline and although there was planning behind it, it was still a last minute decision (aka not done immediatly during the day of the motive reveal). You could argue pressure got to him or he overthought it as it became increasingly clear how much deeper the secrets went and how much the people who set this game up knew about them (something Whit investigated himself).

I think the way Whit acted about the secrets is too contradictory to really use any of what he says as actual evidence against the secrets not being his motive basically.

Now, let's go into the other point and how it works with the potential motive, the speculation that Arei was waterboarded.

Yeah, this seems to hint heavily that this is what happened and Arei's actual cause of death would be by drowning instead of strangulation like expected.

But why not strangulation ?? Why do a technique that is much harder to kill Arei, unless they were trying to get something out of drowning her. I mean we don't technically know if it was actual waterboarding but considering how planned this murder was and how we do actually have pieces of clothing that would serve for waterboarding, it seems to be likely.

(I'm not exactly sure how it stuck together with the starch afterwards but considering how the playground's ventilation works it's possible it dried up quickly) (There's also Arei's missing glove if you don't believe Teruko and Hu's clothing where used for it)

There's also no reason to drown her instead of strangling her with the rope unless there was another justification for it. But the episode actively goes out of it's way to say that there probably wasn't an attempt at tricking people into thinking the murder happened during 7:30 PM.

Anyways, why would the culprit waterboard Arei then ??? Clearly this means they were trying to get information out of her...

Which makes 0 sense unless it was Whit who would at least have a small justification for it, aka him not knowing what his secret is. I do admit it is a bit blurry on what type of information Whit would've truly wanted or why he did this before just killing her. However out of anyone (that already isn't pretty much confirmed innocent) it would only make sense for it to be him.

Now onto other stuff unrelated to the secret thing, like how unhelpful Whit has been this trial to a suspicious degree. AKA :

-Trying to distract away from the letter framing Eden and then just throwing her under the bus immediatly when he's questioned about it.

-Refusing to reveal David's secret

-Coincidentally having an excuse for not seeing Arei's body swaying

Now all of these could be argued to be in character reasons, after all didn't he do something like that chapter 1 with Charles (kind of). However this is a new level of trial interferance that really isn't justifiable at a certain point.

You could argue "well wouldn't talking about the note and David's secret be useful to make them seem guilty"' and while that'd be right to an extent. However everytime Whit witholds something like with Eden and David, he seems to cave eventually so the only thing he has achieved in this trial so far is to stall for time. Which could potentially be intentional if he's the culprit.

Now that I've kinda covered the major points, here are a list of suspicious things, mostly things that Whit knew before I get to my final point (how this would fit the narrative this chapter).

(I do wanna say most of this things isn't technically necessary info that the culprit needed to know but it definitely helps).

Whit was present during Teruko and Hu changing, meaning he would have known about their old clothes and could have found out where to get them.

Whit was present during the fight in the cafeteria, which is when Arei demanded to have her rope thrown away leading to Mono-TV putting it in storage

(Eden was busy helping J and Arturo so only Teruko, Charles and Whit could've known this information by listening in)

Whit also is the reason David is in the relaxation room leading to his conversation with Arei although idk how much of that would even possibly be planned or how that would help him, still important to note though.

There is probably more I could say however I want to get to my last point, I do think Whit being the culprit fits this case more than anyone else.

I know the question of the tape is still unanswered, if Eden did take it wouldn't that mean she is the culprit ? Well I don't think so but overall I just don't think this one singular piece of evidence is enough to say Eden's the culprit especially if we look at the bigger picture.

I'm probably just repeating the same things people probably have heard already but Eden committing such a gruesome murder for pratically no motive at all (outside getting out but it would make the secret motive useless) just doesn't really make sense.

However it is true that from what the title of this chapter suggests "all that glitters (is not gold)", it would mean a character isn't as innocent/good as they seem.

But wouldn't that title make more sense with Whit ?

Eden and Whit both are seemingly the positive vibes character of the cast, both being seemingly "normal". However Whit's positivity is a lot more toxic than Eden's, cracking jokes at innapropriate time and seeming to not let himself show even negative emotions (contrary to Eden who has let herself be upset multiple times).

Narratively speaking, Whit being the culprit, would put Charles in a similar situation to Teruko perhaps deepening their bond further without having Teruko going through a regression arc (she was way closer to Eden than she was with Whit).

It would allow Eden's message to not be lost/contradicted while also going with the apparent theme of the chapter that things aren't as they seem.

And also "all that glitters is not gold" would be a very smart saying for Whit, the one who died his hair blond (would be a very fun double meaning)

[cybunii]

HIDE AND SEEK

“Let's play a little game and have fun”

a/n: so glad this is finally finished >< I do have a part two planned but I have NO idea when that would come out. this is the longest thing i have written so far- pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader tw: stalking, dub/non-con, slight mentions of somnophilia, intercrural sex/thigh fucking, gaslighting, murder and drugging, Leon is a prick :3, obsessive and manipulative behavior, possible kidnapping, etc.

-

It was safe.

You lived in a relatively small town, and never seeing any reports of kidnapping or murders on your TV made life easy to live. The worst things to happen were food shortages because of the slow drivers, or maybe the power going out because of the awful storms. 

You never had to worry about anything. You worked at the little grocery store on the corner, going between the deli and the floral department when needed. After working there for years, you knew everyone who lived there, eventually knowing their names and where they lived. You had made it a point to talk to everyone you saw, wanting them to feel welcome and seen, it was just a small habit you picked up.

It wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but it was nice to be able to pay rent and have a routine. The days when partners would come in gushing about who they were buying flowers for were your favorite, let it be birthdays, holidays, or just a random event. It made your day, and you weren't even the one receiving the flowers. 

It seemed like you were the outcast in the town, not because no one liked you, but because you didn't have kids or a partner. It didn't bother you about the kids, you were never too fond of having them. Cute, but not for you. The partner subject was a harder thing to explain, you were used to living and being alone so it didn't bother you much. 

You always thought of that as you made the arrangements, the feeling of someone putting their heart into making something so special for you.

This puts you to right now, placing together an arrangement while Mrs. Green talks about her grandkids. You often wondered if she actually liked them with how much she complained about them. They were bad kids though, and got into trouble every week.

“…And of course Parker has to follow in Taylor’s footsteps and tear up the place, knocking over my expensive vase- the one you got me for my birthday-” She explains, covering her mouth as she realizes what she said. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry…” 

You shake your head and put on your best fake smile, holding up a hand to ease her worries. 

“It’s quite alright Mrs. Green, you know how kids are.” You shrug, but internally your wallet dies. You hunted for that vase for hours, finally getting one on sale for roughly $260. Damn those kids. 

She wraps up the conversation maybe a few minutes later, rattling off some reason about cooking her famous chicken again. 

You lived next to her and smelled whatever she cooked while you had your windows open, if the smells were any indication, she was a damn good cook. 

I mean anything smelled good to you. You weren’t a 5-star chef or anything, but you could cook decent meals. Better than the college route of sandwiches and noodles. Those were the days.

-

It doesn’t take long for the day to end, only having a few people working in the store meant shorter closing hours, and getting to go home earlier than most was a perk. You walk out after closing up, locking the door, and practically crashing into Mr. West, basically the head of the events committee for this town. 

“Woah! Be careful there sweetheart.” He said, chuckling like he wasn’t the reason of you almost falling on him. 

“Sorry, what’s up?” You asked, actually interested this time. The last time he planned something, the entire town showed up, it was one of the most exciting things to happen in this town in a while. 

“Well, I came to formally invite you to the little get-together I’ve been planning for the new neighbor, I want to help make them feel welcomed here.” He grins, clasping his hands together as he talks, I guess that makes sense, everyone here knows each other so a new person joining may feel out of place, almost like a new kid joining a new school. Possibly horrifying to experience. 

“A new person? Where at?” You ask, not seeing any empty buildings near your house. Then again it had been a while since you last looked, and the Gold family has been strangely absent. 

“Right on the corner, lil white house with the blue shutters?” 

You nod in acknowledgment, suddenly knowing where that one is and frowning at the fact. 

That house has been abandoned for years, I mean long before you even moved into your little place. The blue didn’t look as vibrant and the white was a sad and dirty grey. 

The inside of the house is just as run down as the outside was. Broken furniture litters the house, most have fallen from their resting places and piled up on each other. The walls are cracked and the floor is covered in dirt and grass that have grown inside the house. 

“Ah, yeah. That one…”

Mr. West nods, almost uncaring about the state of the house. “Yup, been meaning to sell that house for ages. Nice to see some new meat round here.”

“Guess so, but I’ll be glad to take you up on that offer. What’s the details for it?” You ask, taking out your phone. 

He practically swats your phone away, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah don’t worry about that old thing, I got letters to send out, you’ll see it when it arrives!” He bids his goodbyes and quickly walks off down the sidewalk, assuming he’s knocking on the door of your neighbors next. 

On your journey back home, you take an extra second to look at the house, it being the same way you remembered it. You thought they’d at least try and clean it up, but maybe the person isn’t here yet. The mailbox at least looked new, a nice shiny baby blue color, the black numbers on the side reading “205.” 

If first impressions mean anything, the entrance having some pop to it makes it easier on the eyes and matches the house too. 

But something about the house seems off. You can't put your finger on it, but something feels...wrong about it. 

But maybe that's just the strange aura the abandoned house brings. You continue the trek to your house, thinking about the invitation that the city council member gave you previously before reaching your street. The quiet road is mostly void of any human activity, with the occasional leaf floating down on the wind and the birds fluttering through the air.

Having no information on it so far makes it hard to plan anything out, especially if the letter gets sent too late. 

-

You stop in your tracks at the small glimpse of color resting on your doormat, squinting your eyes at it and deciding it’s too far away to actually tell what it is. 

You make small strides to your front porch, your pepper spray in hand when you pause, almost laughing at the fact that you almost pepper sprayed a bouquet of flowers. You frown and pick it up, the display of flowers similarly close to the arrangement you made earlier that day. 

You suspiciously inspect it with squinted eyes, turning it around before finding the note secured by a ribbon that’s wrapped around the middle. 

“Thought you deserved these more. <3” 

That’s nothing short of weird. 

Not only did the note have some sort of…stain on it, the handwriting is damn near illegible, barely being able to read the poorly attempted cursive on the small note. 

You don’t even know who sent these but it already seems annoying. No return address and no name means there’s someone too shy to approach you, a loser in your eyes. Could be a cute loser, those are fun. 

You shrug it off and walk in your house, flowers in hand as you place them on the kitchen counter, scouring your cabinets for a vase that’s suitable for them. You know it’s your work, just strange on how it ended up back in your hands. You grab the glass from under the cabinet, putting fresh water in it as you trim the bottom of the stems, carefully setting them in the vase on the counter. You’d have to pick up flower food later, but you can always do that tomorrow, not like you don’t already have a shift at the grocery store in the morning.

It’s a weird, possibly fucked up scenario, but It’s almost sweet in a way. Maybe in a school girl way, with your crush or secret admirers sticking notes or love letters in the slots of your locker. Grinning as you show your friends, the ecstatic look on their faces as they encourage you to go over to them, to thank them or ask them out on a date. 

You’ll have to think of consequences later. 

But now? You’ll happily sip your drink and stare at the flowers, daydreaming about who could possibly be your secret admirer.

-

The next day at work is just as boring, but this time your manager Beck did assign someone to your department, so now you’ll only have flowers today. She is in the office today, and you being her favorite employee, she often hangs around, picking up scraps and putting together some of the orders. 

“You hear about the new guy?” She asked, lazily throwing together another order of red roses. 

New guy huh? Guess Mr. West didn’t mention who the new neighbor could be. 

“Somewhat, already got an invite to that huge gathering West is planning.” 

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at the mention of both the gathering and West. They were together at some point, could be rumors, but you can’t deny seeing her knuckles turn white on occasion as she clenches her fists together. Just hearing about him must make her angry. 

“I heard. Can’t wait for that.” 

“It won’t be so bad, maybe it’ll be nice to get the town together again. Especially for the all-famous new guy.” You offer with a shrug, knowing you could care less about all of it. 

It’s not like you hated the poor guy right off the bat, but with every conversation being centered around him? It makes him seem like the next Jesus Christ. With even you knowing about him, the entire town is probably waiting for his arrival. And you know these people, already have assumptions based on his name, of which you don’t even know. You’d almost feel bad if you didn’t already have your own assumptions. 

 He better live up to the hype, or these people will eat him alive. 

“…you know, I actually saw him when he was touring the house,” Beck says with a grin, and you already know the look on her face. She’s a romantic at heart, can’t really blame her. 

“Oh yeah, panty-dropping?” 

She laughs and rolls her eyes, but you know it’s true. She’s attractive, but her college days will never leave her. You cannot forget the drunken stories she’s rambled to you about them practically lining up outside her dorm, and honestly? Good for her. 

Only action you get is from whatever you watch on television, or recently that weird-ass admirer situation. You keep your mouth shut about that, not that you don’t trust her, but she’ll make it a much bigger thing than you need right now. The last thing you need is more attention for this weird display of affection. 

“Well, he’s kinda tall, intimidating but has a cute baby face- Oh! And the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” She smiles, practically glowing red. 

“Sounds boring, there’s like a million of those already.” You shrug, crossing your arms after putting down the completed order. 

“This one is different! There’s something about his eyes, he’s mysterious.” She nods, a mischievous expression on her face. 

“Right, I’ll see for myself whenever this party happens.”

Beck waves you off with her hand and goes into the break room, maybe to smoke again, it has been a while since her last break. 

It’s been a while since your break as well, and no one is near the counter, and you’ve finished all your orders for today. What harm could a break do? You follow in her footsteps and walk back to your locker, opening it and sifting through your bag. After a few moments you forget what you’re looking for, but the lack of your lighter makes you pause. 

Very small thing, but still noticeable. You step outside and eye Beck up and down with a suspicious look, squinting your eyes at her. 

“What?” She asks, blowing out the smoke. 

“Did you grab my lighter? It’s gone.” 

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, pulling out her bright yellow lighter. “Nope, got mine right here. Anyone else smoke?” 

“Nah, just us. Damn, I liked that one.” You feel your pockets one last time and lean against the wall, now having to buy yet another lighter. 

“How do you keep losing yours?” She laughs at you, and you shrug, not like you have any idea. You have a good memory but misplace the small things, you think it’s only natural. 

“No clue, maybe I’m being haunted.” 

The woman laughs again and shakes her head. "Haunted by who? A ghost with something to gain from you? I heard that is an incredibly rare phenomenon."

It doesn't seem crazy, in fact, the idea feels...plausible. The spirits that haunt this area are mostly vengeful, but that still doesn't explain why they would send you things. What would a vengeful spirit have to gain from giving you gifts?

“Yknow, I’ve got this other guy, names L? Supposedly runs a business catching ghosts, people eat that shit up. He’s basically swimming in money.” She nods with a serious look, pointing her finger at you. 

And? Yeah okay- Sometimes you can’t tell if she’s actually serious or just fucking with you. 

You don’t offer up a reply, instead staring at her with a disappointed look. She shrugs in response, taking a drag off her cigarette. 

She continues smoking, blowing out a puff of grey smoke that wafts up and drifts away in the wind. It has a pleasant smell, the scent of flowers and honey-like fruits. It is soothing. The woman's expression remains as nonchalant as it was previously.

“Might head in, heard someone at the counter.” It’s cutting your break a few minutes short, but not like you can do anything else. 

Have to add that to your list of things to do later. 

Care about the consequences of keeping the flowers, buy a new lighter, and use your break time wisely. 

You make a mental note of those three things. The rest of your shift goes as smoothly as expected, though you have a nagging feeling that there is something off about the house you saw earlier. That feeling, mixed with the strange gifts and Beck's strange comment has your mind racing. 

-

That night you had to close late, the customers obviously not understanding closing hours. You get people need food, but they could’ve cleared their schedules or something- Maybe even get there the next morning when you first open. Beck couldn’t close because her cat sitter said he got sick, so she had to rush home and get him to the vet- which is unfortunately hours away.

You make your rounds through the store, jotting down the few things that need to be stocked in the morning. And also make sure no one is trying to stay overnight, kicking those people out is the worst. The last time someone had hidden in the break room, practically scaring the poor new girl to death, she didn’t stay long after that.

A small clang gets your attention, the sound only being noticed because of the dead silent- and hopefully empty store. 

Two things could happen here, either someone is here and fucking with something, or it’s an animal of some kind. 

You don’t want to deal with either. 

You unhook the pepper spray from off your belt, gripping it in your hands like it may fall, almost like a greedy spoiled kid with anything. Unable to let go, and won’t without a good reason. 

Your reason? 

Nothing being here. 

You stalk around the corner with quiet steps, frowning when you hear the small taps of your shoes as they carefully touch the ground when you walk. Damn these shoes and this slick ass floor. You’re hyper-focused on any noise that your ears can pick up, but of course your brain has to imagine hearing footsteps all around you. Another clang has you looking towards the break room, now registering the sound as the locker opening and closing. Walking towards the sound makes your heart race, the loud thumping beats filling your head as you take more and more steps towards the room. 

Rushing around the corner has you panting and hyperventilating, aiming your pepper spray at the lockers - seeing a masked figure quickly slip out the back door, completely dressed in black. 

You run after them, knocking the door open and running into the parking lot. After a quick and very thorough search, it was like they disappeared. There’s no one walking or anything, only the sound of the wind filling your ears. 

A quick walk back to the break room and you’re searching the lockers, praying that they didn’t steal or break anything. Everything is perfectly fine, until you step towards your locker. Nothing seems out of place, but your gut tells you something is in there, something’s wrong. 

You take a deep breath and swing the locker open, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start seeing shapes. Nothing popping out at you has you opening your eyes again, glancing down at your once empty locker with an expression of disbelief- and maybe a small hint of…disappointment?

It’s your lighter. A small note attached to it reading, “Sorry :(“

…

What?

You know it’s whoever gave you the flowers, I mean they find your house, your workplace, and locker, steal your stuff, and then return it?

You were barely angry about it, only annoyed, and that’s all it took for them to give it back to you? Especially in the weird way that they did. 

They had to be nearby to hear that conversation you had with Beck, whether outside or inside the store. But no one being there makes you pause.

It makes you wonder how long they’ve been watching you. 

The chill that runs down your spine and makes your entire body shiver makes you consider finally setting up those security cameras around your house. You may not be able to do it at the store, but damn this stalker being able to free-roam your own house. 

Makes you consider buying another weapon as well, pepper spray is temporary at this point, people can still fight with their eyes closed.

It being almost midnight puts a stop to enacting any of your plans, you'll just have to invest a pretty penny in the morning to get those cameras, then spend the entire afternoon planning out and placing the cameras around your house. 

Even if you are the only one to see the footage, the thought of having cameras watch you is almost creepy in a way. Like an instant goosebumps kind of feeling. Just gross, can't explain it. 

A quick walk back to your house has you calming down some, despite it being night, the street lights do good work to light up the streets, and hearing the small buzz come from them is soothing in a way. 

You stop by your mailbox first, your morning shift crossing with the path of the mailman's schedule. A glance through the letters and you stop at the bright pink one, immediately knowing it has the details of the gathering. 

Ripping the top off and skimming through the small writing makes you want to crumble the letter up in your hands, just tossing it out into the street. Of course, it's tomorrow, well technically today since it's well past midnight now. 

The only good part is that it's around five, which gives you time to sleep and prepare some weird side dish. It's much better than trying to pick out a gift for the random guy, that's a hair-pulling kind of stress that you definitely dont want to deal with right now, or ever. 

-

That night you actually managed to have a full night's rest, no randomly waking up or any nightmares to scare you half to death. The bright lights peaking through your blinds make you immediately cover your eyes, stretching your legs out and hearing the small pops. 

Sitting up makes you jolt a bit, and the sudden realization of something wet between your legs makes you groan. A quick look under the covers has your mind reeling, it's definitely not your period, and it's all over your thighs and underwear. 

You dont remember having a dream that good to literally come everywhere, let alone have it look like this. Tossing your clothes and sheets in the washing machine and taking a hot shower has you relaxing and not paying any attention to it. 

You have better things you need to worry about today. 

The letter only contained the dishes already being brought to the event, a small note at the bottom explaining to try and bring a dish everyone can eat. Could be easy enough, you could just go to the store and grab a fruit plate or something. Doesn’t take much time to get and is somewhat inexpensive. 

Plus-

Everyone knows this main event is not about the food. 

Around roughly 4:45, you pull up to an awfully crowded building. With most of the parking spaces being filled and people having to stand outside due to the inside being packed, you dont have high hopes for a stress-free night. 

These people are good people, and you get along with them just fine. But having to be at an introduction party is the worst. Having the same conversation over and over again isn't exactly your idea of fun.

And with how many people are here? 

You should practically have sorry on speed dial anytime you may bump into someone, I mean- god forbid you dont apologize for what they did. Of course, everything is fine, you might explode if someone elbows you again but it's all chill! Complaining and daydreaming have you slowly exiting your car, fruit plate in hand as you try to find the food table. 

A reunion. Always something to complain about, whether the food is too dry, the children are annoying, or the awkward moment when that one neighbor drinks too much and starts to talk about his latest conspiracy theories. 

A lot of families have those members you wish you didn't know. But, hey, that's the price you pay to be related to someone.

And two conversations later you finally set it down 20 minutes later. 

You glance up at the poorly taped banner on the wall, holding up a nice welcome greeting.

Leon, huh?

Puts a name to the face you haven't seen yet.

There's something ominous in the air about party's dedicated to a single individual. 

Maybe because everything is out of your control, with every person here dedicated to making the honored person the center of attention. 

Of course, that is exactly why he might enjoy their party. But for a newcomer, it feels like being thrown into a lion's pit, surrounded by a pride of unknown beasts.

In moments like these, you wish it was just a normal party, where the stakes were lower, and the random people and neighbors were your friends.

It's not that they're rude people. You're just more of an introvert, wishing you had some kind of anchor for yourself, a familiar face or a friendly voice.

Beck hasn’t even shown up yet, leaving you standing in the corner watching the others, sipping on a champagne that tastes like perfume. 

You push yourself off the wall and crash into someone, the champagne spilling all over your neck and outfit, the sounds of their apologies drowned out by your thoughts.

The smell of spilled champagne fills your nose, and the apologetic sounds from the stranger fills your ears. You are sure to apologize as well, as the liquid stains your clothes and spills onto the ground as well.

The stranger seems nice, though unfortunate that the two of you crashed into each other, and both of your outfits are now wet and sticky.

The stranger doesn't seem very upset or annoyed by your spilling your drink over them, and you apologize profusely.

A moment passes, and you lock eyes with this strange person. The two of you laugh, the embarrassment fading away as both of you realize that it was an unfortunate accident.

Both of your attention is focused on each other now. The two of you lock eyes, and you can't help but notice how attractive this stranger is. It’s not about his overall appearance or personality, it’s the eyes that are drawing you in. Like a siren call, they practically pull you in, drowning in a sea of the most beautiful blue shade you’ve ever seen. 

“What an awkward first impression, kinda ruined that. I’m Leon, by the way-“ 

He chuckles, extending his hand out and shaking yours with a firm grip, the feeling of rough and calloused palms against your own is almost calming in a way. 

“I’d stay and chat for a bit but I should get cleaned up…” You chuckle awkwardly, gesturing towards the champagne that nearly drenched you. 

“Ah, I am sorry again. I should’ve paid more attention.” Leon frowns, looking you up and down, almost analyzing the mess he made of you. 

A quick nod and you’re off to the bathroom, staring in the mirror as you dab your neck and chest with a damp paper towel. The odd but familiar scent of the towel fills your nose, almost like a wet stale cardboard smell. 

You toss them in the trash when you’re done, admiring your appearance in the mirror before stepping back out of the bathroom. As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes are quickly met by the stranger you met earlier. Leon seems to be making a quick beeline towards you, the two of you catching up after the awkward spill.

Leon eyes you with interest, his shy but flirty demeanor becoming increasingly obvious to you. “You clean up real nice.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his comment about you cleaning up nicely. It seems that your efforts paid off after all. You didn’t dress up for him, let alone dress to impress. But god do those words make you happy. 

You smile at him, unsure of what to say next. He seems a bit flirtatious, which is certainly intriguing.

You can't help but feel your heart pounding like it never has before. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, and your breathing grows shallow as you take him in fully. 

He stands a bit taller than you are, his dirty blonde hair framing his face just right. The way that he stands gives you a sense of security, and his expression is one that speaks volumes. The lights reflected off his soft features, almost making him glow. Maybe Beck was right, he may be average, but there’s something else there. 

There is something intriguing about him, something that attracts your attention, almost begging you to investigate more. While he might be average-looking, his presence is anything but, and you are sure to discover what hides below the surface of those gorgeous eyes.

You find yourself caught in conversation with Leon for so long, that the moments start to slip away as you talk away the night. The feeling of being energized is almost invigorating, as the two of you laugh and enjoy each other's company. It's hard to imagine that only the champagne is causing the buzzing feeling in your body, it is certainly more than just that. 

The night continues on, and the two of you keep talking, enjoying each other's company. The more you engage in conversation, the feeling underneath your skin starts to grow almost intense, and it becomes harder to ignore it, or how you feel about this stranger. You can’t tell if the pounding in your head is because of the alcohol or him, his gaze towards you sending chills down your spine, goosebumps trailing their way down your arms.

Leon seems to notice something is off, and the expression he presents is one of concern. "Is something wrong? You look sick..."

It takes every ounce of willpower to keep yourself collected, and your shaking heart under control. "It's nothing, just had too much to drink... maybe," you finally say, giving a half-smile and trying not to show how nervous you are.

You can't help but feel your heart beating like an angry drum. You're almost certain that he can see the signs of your drunken affection for him, and you are sure to grow more and more embarrassed with every passing moment. 

It seems like Leon is trying to offer support, but to you, this just feels like a game of hide and seek, each side trying not to show their cards too early. A cat and mouse chase, the game only ending when the other party gives in. 

“I’m fine, promise.” You wave off his concern, swirling your drink around in your glass in an attempt to focus on something other than his face.

"Okay, if you're sure..." Leon says, his tone expressing that he sees right through your bluff.

He seems to notice you trying to distract him from the situation, and his expression softens slightly. He seems to pick that up, and the conversation continues.

You can't help but feel a tad bit awkward, so you focus on your drink to avoid looking at him. The swirling glass keeps your vision occupied, but your mind is still focused on the face you tried to avoid.

The conversation continues, and there is little to distract you from the awkward situation between you and Leon. The buzz has only grown more intense, almost making it hard to think straight at moments. Your heart is beating and your mind is reeling, tiny specks of black spotting your vision.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,“ 

As the words begin to leave your mouth, his features shift to one of confusion, disappointment, and hints of something else that you can’t quite place. "... you're leaving?"

"I'm just...." you try to reply, but the words get caught in your throat. "I'll be back, just need some fresh air," you finally manage to stammer out, the expression on his face adding fuel to your lie.

He only nods in response, and you stagger off to the exit, trying to escape the overwhelming feelings flooding you.

You rush past the other partygoers, ignoring their looks and questions as you try to escape to the privacy of your car. The air is refreshingly cool compared to the crowded party inside, and you can finally breathe. You don't bother leaning against the wall, and instead make a dash for your car.

The freedom is refreshing, and you open your car door to find a quiet space where you can collect your thoughts. You still feel a weird mix of emotions inside you, but in the car, you have some time to calm down.

The drive back home is a surreal experience, as the intense feelings of embarrassment and concern start to settle in. You get home and flop onto your bed, letting the plush pillows and soft blankets ease your mind as you fall asleep in a matter of minutes. 

You fall into a deep sleep, but the feelings still linger. However, the soft embrace of sleep makes the feelings more bearable, and you finally allow yourself to rest.

-

The hangover is the first thing that hits you as you wake up, along with the pounding of your head and the aching pain in your body. Itchiness washes over you, feeling like a lingering reminder of the previous night. No wonder you woke up with a headache, considering the amount of alcohol you probably put away last night.

The little bit of alcohol seems like it affected you more than it should have, given the fact that you aren't a lightweight. Why did you have such a strong reaction to a small amount of alcohol? Was it the stress of the situation, or was there something else going on?

You take the pill killers and swallow the cold water with some difficulty, the scratching in your throat making it difficult to swallow. You hope and pray that the pills will kick in soon, as the pounding in your head is unbearable.

The feeling of the pills finally kicking in makes the headache much more tolerable and the itchy feeling under your skin shifts to something slightly less unbearable. You still feel the heat beneath your skin, and you know that the strange feeling hasn't gone away, but it's certainly become more manageable.

As the pills take effect, you're able to gather yourself for a shower. The hot water pours over your body, and it's heavenly. Not only does it bring the pain of your hangover down to a much more bearable level, but it even helps to calm the strange feeling that has been creeping underneath your skin as well. The heat from the water feels divine, and you find yourself lingering in the shower far longer than you intend to.

You step out of the shower, all clean and dressed with a light snack eaten. The lingering effects of the strange feeling are finally bearable, and you're ready to face the world again.

You leave your house and make your way to the hardware store, hoping that they will have the security cameras that you're looking for. The walk there is pleasant, and the breeze is helping to clear out the last bit of the strange feeling you experienced the night before.

As you enter the hardware store, you are relieved to discover that they do, in fact, carry the security cameras that you're looking for. The person working there is super friendly and knowledgeable, helping to guide you to the right section of the store.

It's nice to be able to get some answers about what happened a few nights ago, and the purchase will certainly make you feel safer in your own home.

You're staring at the two boxes, considering one white shade or the other, when a familiar voice breaks your concentration. It's Leon, and it seems he followed you to the store? 

He seems to recommend one shade over the other, and you take his suggestion to heart. The ghost white seems to suit the color of your walls much better, although the seashell has a nice pinkish hue to it. 

"I'll take the ghost white, then," you say, and turn to give him a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you turn around, spotting his empty basket in hand. 

"I, uhh..." he falters for a moment before continuing. "I was actually headed here to buy some things as well." He gestures to the store, but his eyes seem to be fixed on you instead.

He seems to have something else to say, but he's hesitant. You get the feeling that he's trying to find the right words, and he seems to be avoiding making eye contact.

“I hope you find them all right, they seem to have everything here!” You quickly reply, snuffing out any hint of awkwardness.

He seems to relax a little, as if relieved to shift the topic away from anything tense. "Yeah, they really have everything here. They've got everything I was looking for."

The awkwardness between you seems to have faded, and you feel a bit more comfortable. The conversation is back to being a bit lighthearted, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of both of your shoulders.

You bid your goodbyes and walk back to your house, holding the bag of freshly bought security cameras in your hand. Hopefully, they’ll blend nicely into your walls, Leon seemed to think so. 

You arrive back home with the two boxes of security cameras in hand and start to consider how to best set them up. You quickly decide the two outside and one in your bedroom, with the last remaining one being a bit of a mystery.

The living room would be a natural spot, but it's pretty open, and doesn't really make sense to have a camera there. The kitchen and dining room are an option, but those rooms could be considered too far away from your bedroom to really be effective at helping your paranoia.

You sit there for a moment, considering options of where the last camera could go. There are so many rooms, and so many different areas to consider, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Finally, you make a decision. The last one will go in the basement, and the basement could use something to watch over it. The basement is an eerie place, with a large variety of odd and old items. The basement is not the neatest place in the world, but that works in your favor. 

You just make sure that it isn't pointed directly at any one thing, but rather in a way that you can watch everything.

You download the app on your phone, which allows you to view all of the cameras at any time. The basement camera is running smoothly, and the stream is clear. You can see the entire room at all times, though you can't detect any obvious signs of intruders or anything out of the ordinary.

It's a relief to have the cameras installed, and the house feels a bit more secure. 

Back upstairs, you toss the empty box and paper away as soon as you return. You won't need the physical reminder anymore, as the code is easy to remember. 

You sit on the couch and feel a feeling of peace wash over you. The cameras are set up, and the inside and outside can be monitored now. It feels comforting, and you hope the cameras will help deter any intruders from targeting your home, or better yet- whoever that one person was. 

-

A few days pass without any issues, and you feel your stress levels ease. Each peaceful day that goes by brings relief, knowing that the cameras are doing their job and nothing strange is going on. 

It's weird to think the strangest thing to happen is tourists flirting with you at your job, it's the truth. Every time you have to deal with one, you wonder how dumb they can really be. You wish you could smack them with the bouquets you sell, and make them regret ever coming over to your counter. But of course, you can't because that's not "Customer Service Friendly.” Ugh.

You almost start to forget about your worries, and life seems to return back to normal. The cameras are doing their job, and it seems like everything has been sorted out.

Leon has become a frequent person in your life, and you find yourself seeing him in almost every place you go. It seems that your paths often cross, even when you aren't necessarily expecting it.

Despite your issues with Leon earlier on, he has turned out to be an alright person. He hasn't done anything malicious like you had assumed, and he seems to be an honest person at this point. 

Beck still hasn't messaged you or anything, so it's been quite lonely without anyone to talk to. Leon has been the only person keeping you distracted from loneliness, and it's kind of refreshing to have someone new to talk to and hang out with.

Getting to know him in such a short time has been a bit of a surprise, as he's shared quite a bit with you. 

You learn about his life as a retired police officer, that he lives with a German shepherd named Lola, and that he currently doesn't have his family. The only other aspect about him that you haven't learned yet is his romantic life.

It's certainly understandable that he would keep his romantic life to himself. You don't go around advertising the fact that you're single either, so you get where he's coming from. It's just a private part of someone's life, and it's not something that needs to be discussed unless it's brought up by the person directly. 

It feels like there's more to him than just the police officer part, the German shepherd, and the lack of family. You kind of feel like there's more to the story when it comes to him. 

Which leads you to now.

You had invited Leon over for dinner, hoping that the house setting would make him feel more comfortable to open up and share more with you. You don't know what it is about him, but there's definitely more to his story than just his career and lack of family. He has some kind of wall around him, and maybe the more peaceful setting of the house will help him relax and share more.

The doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of Leon. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure everything looks perfect before heading down to answer the door. You open the door, greeting Leon with a smile and leading him inside. 

The dining area is all setup, a delicious meal waiting on the table. The candles are lit and the mood is quiet and peaceful. The smell of the food you cooked wafted through the air, mixing with the warm and light scent of the candles.

Leon seems to be a bit sheepish as his eyes reach the table and linger on the candles and expensive dishes. "You didn't have to do all this for me..." he says, his tone of voice soft but a bit anxious.

You smile and reassure him, "Don't be ridiculous, It's nothing. I just thought I'd make you a nice meal. I've been wanting to cook for someone, and it seemed like a good opportunity." 

He seems to relax once you assure him, though he still seems a bit nervous. He is not used to this, the kindness that you're showing him. It's more than what Leon is used to. He almost looks uncomfortable. 

You take your seat at the table, motioning for him to take his as well. The candles light the room with a warm and dim glow, adding to the pleasant atmosphere of the dinner. Leon sits down at the table, looking at the food with a bit of a smile. He looks nervous still, but there is some kind of small enjoyment on his face. The dinner looks inviting, and Leon seems to be slowly growing comfortable with the situation.

You continue to chat over the delicious dinner, and the conversation flows smoothly for both of you. Leon is enjoying the food and seems to actually be enjoying the conversation. It's the first time you've gone this deep into your friendship with him, and you can't help but feel glad that he is enjoying this night so far.

You both finish eating, and you start putting away the food. You're now standing at your sink as you start washing the dishes, Leon coming over to help and washing the rest of them.

"Let me help you with that, I don't mind at all," Leon says, taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them. "I'm used to doing housework, so I can help finish these with you."

You feel a bit of resistance to the idea, wanting to handle it on your own. But, it seems like Leon is not accepting refusal as an answer. 

Instead, he is taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them himself. There is a sense of kindness and politeness in his voice as if he is offering a helping hand, and you can't bring yourself to deny him. You're not exactly sure what you did to deserve this level of kindness, but you're certainly not complaining.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the help," You say, giving in and washing the dishes alongside him. "It's no problem really," Leon says, washing the dishes. The two of you scrub away at the dishes, and for a while, there's nothing but the sound of clattering dishes as the water washes over them.

Leon seems more comfortable now, and you notice that he's smiling a bit more as the dishes are cleaned. He does seem a bit restless though, unable to stay still for a long time. Messing with his clothes, bouncing his knee, fiddling with the dishes. The silence is peaceful though, and it's nice to have this small moment with Leon.

You glance over a few times and see Leon's gaze landing on the sharper cutlery, and you notice that he seems to be running his fingers along the sharp edge as if he is contemplating something. It's like he's considering whether or not he should be allowed to use those utensils, as if they're forbidden fruit or something. You can't help but feel a bit uneasy about the way he keeps looking at them. You watch cautiously as he continues to run his fingers along the sharp edge as if testing it out. There's a bit of worry in your mind when it comes to letting him hold these knives, as he seems to be entranced by them in some way. The thought of letting him get near them is making you feel a bit uneasy, but you don't want to be too controlling and tell him he can't touch them.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should say anything at all, but your worry over the situation is too much for you to let go. You finally ask, "Is everything okay?"

Leon stops and turns to face you, his attention returning to you. "Hmm?" Leon hums, and you notice he's snapped out of the trance he was in. "Oh, yeah, everything's alright. I'm just cleaning the knives," he says, holding one up and scrubbing it.

You furrow your brows a bit at that comment, not wanting to push it further than that. If he says things are alright, then you might just have to take him at his word. It's no use pushing it further if he seems to be content, and you don't want to make things awkward or uncomfortable now.

As you finish up your portion of the dishes, you head over to the counter to dry your hands off with the hand towel. You keep glancing over at Leon, and he's still washing the dishes too. You're feeling ready to rest, but it seems like Leon is just finishing up his portion now. You watch him for a few moments as he finishes up the cutlery, wondering how much longer he'll take.

"I really do want to thank you." Leon suddenly says, the shift in his tone causes you to freeze a little bit, your brow twitching slightly at the ominous undertones it brings with it. You wonder what could have caused this change in the tone of his voice. The sudden seriousness that has come over him is unsettling, and it's almost as if he sees you in a different light now.

"You've been so nice to me, I can't help but feel touched," he says, still looking down at the dishes he's cleaning. This shift is alarming, especially with the way he's not even looking at you anymore.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to pass off his words with a joke. "No need to get all sappy on me," you echo back, hoping that he'll laugh along with you.

"Just wanted us to talk more, have a nice dinner between friends…" You repeat back in an attempt to be lighthearted and not make the situation too awkward.

"A friend, hm?" he says, finally taking his eyes off the dishes and looking up at you now. His gaze is almost piercing, and you can feel that he is studying you with his full attention. The way he's looking at you now makes you feel exposed, almost like he can find some hidden flaw with just one glance. His stare is almost piercing, and you feel like you're being studied from every angle. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you, and what he could be thinking right now.

"Well, we are friends," you reply back, feeling quite uneasy with the way he is looking at you. You don't like the way he's studying you like this, as if he's trying to find something wrong with you.

"That's what I've considered you as this entire time," you continue, trying to keep the sour feelings at bay.

Leon's gaze shifts and his entire demeanor changes in a jarring way. One moment he was focused on the dishes, and the next he was looking at you with an intense gaze that sends chills down your spine. You stare back at him with hesitation, and in just a split second you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of uneasiness wash over you when you see him looking at you like this.

The silence between you two is thick as you stare at each other, and it's as if everything else in the world has stopped. You can't help but feel a sharp feeling of nervousness building inside you, making it feel almost as if you're in the presence of danger. You can't place exactly what changed about him, or what caused this shift in his demeanor. 

His laugh echoes in your ears, but the low and rumbling sound only serves to further distress you. This whole situation is unsettling and it's making you question everything. The whole time you thought you were simply having a nice dinner with a friend, but it appears the situation is a bit more intense than you thought.

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

"This friendship?" you ask, and you feel a bit taken off guard by the question. You stare back at him, your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. 

"What do you mean?"

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks again, and this time his tone is darker. You can't help but feel uncomfortable with the way he's looking at you when he says those words. It's as if he's challenging you in some way, and the vibe of him seems to have changed.

You can feel a mixture of confusion and anger wash over you as you narrow your eyes at Leon. You feel like he is implying something different, and you don't like it at all.

"That's all I think you are at the moment, nothing more," you reply, trying to keep your cool. You don't like the way this conversation is going, and you don't want to get too frustrated and ruin everything.

"Well, I'm sorry if you aren't satisfied with that outcome," Leon replies, his tone taking on a more ominous feel to it. Your confusion is growing at this point because everything he's saying seems to carry a deeper message. "But I dont think you understand what you're saying..."

"What do you mean by that?" you reply, feeling like the conversation is getting a bit intense now. The way he's talking has taken on a more ominous feel to it, and you can't help but feel a bit uneasy now.

"I dont understand what I'm saying?" you echo back, looking at him with a cautious expression. You're not sure what he means by that, but you're starting to get a bad feeling in your gut.

"I think you're just confused is all." He replies nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

You can't help but feel a moment of frustration when he replies with a casual shrug. Was he just messing around with you? Was that threat in his words supposed to be some kind of joke?

"Confused?" you repeat back, but there's a bit of a frown on your face now. You're starting to feel more than just a bit confused, as he seems to be toying with your emotions. You're not sure what game he's playing at, but it's starting to bother you.

"Okay, I dont understand what's going on here. But I'm not comfortable with you being in my house anymore, I think you should leave." You say, shaking your head, shifting your weight back and forth as you speak, the motion soothing you. 

He seems taken aback by this sudden dismissal, his expression darkening somewhat as he looks at you with a look of surprise and something else. It's like he's trying to hide his anger, but you can't help but feel the threat of it lurking in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving," he replies, his tone shifting back to one of arrogance. He doesn't care that you're not comfortable with this situation, instead, he's demanding that this conversation continue. 

You feel like you're being backed into a corner, and the thought of being forced to engage with this anymore is making you feel uneasy.

"I said you should leave." You repeat yourself, doubling down on your decision.

"No, you should think things through and realize that you want me here." He says, his tone shifting from one of arrogance back to a threatening aura. It's a bit unsettling how quickly he shifted to this, with such a demanding tone. The conversation shifts in tone once again, and he is back to being arrogant and demanding. He doesn't plan to leave just because you told him to, and you're starting to feel uncomfortable with being in this situation with a person so hostile and unyielding.

You quickly size him up, your eyes widening when you spot the tightly gripped knife in his hand. The sudden change in his attitude and that tight grip on the knife make all the pieces click together for you, and suddenly everything makes sense. Your instincts take over, and you become alert to being in a potentially dangerous situation.

Leon notices your shock and tries to take advantage of it, lunging at you with the knife, aiming for your stomach. The sudden lunge catches you off-guard, and you flinch at the action. You can't help but start to feel a rush of fear as the knife aims for your stomach. 

You react quickly, dodging out of the way and punching him square in the jaw, sending him flying towards the floor. 

You scramble away and run as fast as you can in the direction of your bedroom, closing the door behind you and locking it tight. 

The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your heart beat faster with every step, and you can feel your breath coming out in quick, shaky breaths.

You look around your room in a frenzy, using your new found strength to push your dresser in front of the door. You’re sure any police officer knows how to pick a lock, especially the basic ones that are in these old houses. In a panic, you try to find a place to hide and scan the room for somewhere to hide, your eyes landing on your closet. 

You move toward the closet, and you're careful to open and shut the door slowly. The inside of the closet is dark and cramped, making it feel more creepy than comforting. You try to ignore the feeling of claustrophobia that is creeping into you, and you duck down as you pull the door closed behind you.

The moment you duck into the closet, you hear the sounds of footsteps rushing up the stairs. You realize that your bedroom is the last room in the hallway, which means it could take him a while before he reaches you. 

But, he's going to get to you eventually and you start feeling a bit of panic in the back of your mind.

Would anyone find you when he reaches you? Could you be recognizable to the poor neighbor who finds your body when he’s done? 

You begin to get more and more anxious as the footsteps draw closer, the tension and fear of waiting for the inevitable reaching a fever pitch. 

You sit there in the closet, hiding and waiting in the darkness. You know that the longer this goes on, the more danger you're in, and you can't help but shake slightly at the thought.

You hear the slam of the guest room's door as it burst open, followed by the quiet sounds of rustling that fill your ears as he searches the room. It's an eerie noise, and it sends shivers down your spine as you realize he's getting closer to you. You clutch your hands, trying to keep your breathing quiet and steady as he gets closer.

The silence is overwhelming, as you try everything you can not to make a sound. You hold your breath as you hear Leon searching in the bathroom now, the rustling sound of the curtain pulling back catching your attention, your racing heartbeat growing stronger and louder as he gets closer. The tension is building, and the thought of him finding you is causing you more distress than you would like to admit.

You can hear the chuckle of Leon's voice as he reaches your bedroom door, and you hold your breath even tighter. He's getting so close now, and you can feel yourself starting to tremble with fear. His voice carries with it a sense of dominance and arrogance, and you can almost imagine the smirk he's giving you right now.

You clench your fists tightly as you hear Leon's voice talking to you through the door.

"I know you're in there. Why are you hiding? Do you think it'll help you?" he says, his voice sounding smug and superior. He sounds like he's enjoying this situation a bit too much, and your heart starts pounding in your chest as you hear the confidence in his voice.

The silence is almost deafening when you don’t respond, and you sit there listening to your rapid heartbeat and your slow breathing. There's so much tension in the air, and you feel like your heartbeat is going to explode out of your chest. 

The silence lasts for what seems like an eternity, but you close your eyes tight, hoping that he'll just give in and leave you alone. And, it seems your prayers are answered, and there's only silence for a few moments before the sound of footsteps heading down the stairs makes you sigh of relief. 

You sit in the closet, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the footsteps heading down the stairs instead of coming toward your closet door. The tension is starting to ebb slightly, and you feel an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You feel like you can finally breathe again, and you start to slow your breathing as you try to calm down.

The sound of the dresser scraping against the floor escapes your notice as you try to take deep breaths and calm yourself down. You miss the sound of the footsteps moving toward the door, letting your heart beat faster as you bury your head into your hands. You miss the subtle noises that would have warned you of what was coming. 

When he rips open the closet door, you let out a sharp gasp and freeze, staring up at him in fear as he stares back with that smug expression on his face.

"Found you."

-

word count: 10k

[fazedlight]

Listening (Rift resolution, with reference to Kara’s article from Batwoman 1x10)

“I appreciate the favor,” Kate said, as Kara turned off her voice recorder. “It’s nice we’re in the same universe now.”

“Definitely,” Kara said, smiling back. She jotted down some final thoughts, before closing her notebook. “It’s a favor to me, too. Andrea will love this story.”

It had been a messy incident. When a local officer, Slam Bradley, had pushed Kate - Batwoman - out of harm’s way, someone had been snapping photos. Once the pictures went viral, the press had a field day, speculating on the nature of Batwoman’s relationship with Slam Bradley… which he had only played up.

It prompted Kate to make the decision for Batwoman to come out as a lesbian - not just to clear the air, but to give hope to the queer kids of Gotham.  “Are you nervous?” Kara asked. “I’d be nervous.”

“Relieved,” Kate said, and Kara thought it was all too fitting of the Paragon of Courage. Kate nodded in Kara’s direction. “Sounds like you’ve thought about doing it. What makes you nervous?”

Kara sighed, looking at her hands.

“Oh,” Kate said. “Your friends don’t know?”

Kara’s brow crinkled. “I- I wanted to come out to them. Years ago.”

“There was someone?” Kate asked.

“It got complicated,” Kara said. “I don’t know if she’s even queer anyway. And then we had a falling out, so…”

“So if you came out, everyone would know what she meant to you.”

Kara nodded. “It took the joy out of it. So I didn’t.”

-----------

Kara sighed as she reached her desk, sloughing off her bag and dropping it in her chair. She would rather be transcribing Kate’s interview and writing her article at home where she could use superspeed - but since Andrea wanted the staff in the office, it seemed Kara was stuck taking the slow route.

Kara tilted her head, tracking a familiar heartbeat down the hall. What’s she doing here?, Kara thought curiously, trying to avoid looking as Lena followed Andrea into a small meeting room. I shouldn’t eavesdrop, I shouldn’t eavesdrop, I shouldn’t eavesdrop…

“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you,” Lena derided, as Kara tuned in, “But I didn’t come here for this conversation.”

“I’m not offended,” Andrea said, and Kara could hear the grin in her voice. “I’m just amused. Of all the names to call out-”

“Andrea-” 

“- you really fantasize about Kara Danvers fucking you?”

Kara’s head snapped up in time to see Lena’s frame stiffen through the glass walls. Andrea and Lena?, Kara thought, her eyes wide, They were-

“I’m not talking about this here,” Lena said. “Either get to the contract amendment, or I’ll leave.”

“Please, Lena, it’s not like she can hear us.”

Lena shouted my name? Kara thought in a panic, rising quickly to her feet, intent on somehow shutting down the conversation - because if she didn’t, she was going to lose her sanity. She shouted my name, while they were- while they-

Her steps were perhaps slightly too fast, and she accidentally caught Lena’s eye for a moment before she burst in, the brunette looking like she clearly wanted to murder someone. But Andrea was unperturbed by Kara’s arrival. “Sorry to interrupt!” Kara said, knocking on the door as she swung it open.

“Yes, Ms. Danvers?”

“I-” Kara’s mind drew a blank, before the right excuse fell into her head. “I have an exclusive with Batwoman!”

Andrea hummed in interest, and Kara could feel the daggers Lena was glaring into her.

-----------

Lena glanced down at her drink. 

The winter night was cool enough that she should get something warm - even in National City. But the scotch and rage were keeping her warm enough for now, as she stood on her balcony, looking out over the city’s lights. 

She knew she could be spending another night with Andrea if she wanted. Let off some steam. She knew rationally, Kara finding out wasn’t really Andrea’s fault. But Lena was not in a forgiving mood. She was better off alone and rageful.

A familiar double-tap sounded behind her on her balcony, and Lena’s jaw tightened. “Why are you here?” she demanded, without turning.

“I… I found out something that you didn’t want me to know,” Kara said, and Lena could almost hear the blush in her voice.

“If you think that meant anything-”

“I know it doesn’t,” Kara said. “I’m- I’m just here to tell you something I don’t want you to know.”

Lena’s brow furrowed in confusion, as she turned to look at the bashful blonde. Kara looked back curiously, only partially successful at her attempt to hide her regret. “You think that’s fair?” Lena asked. “You get to choose a secret, because you spied on me?”

“No,” Kara said. “But it’s the best I can do.”

Lena left her drink on the balcony, crossing her arms and glaring at the super, her pose haughty and expectant.

Kara swallowed hard. “I’m in love with you.”

Lena���s eyes widened. What the fuck is she talking about?

“For what it’s worth,” Kara said, looking over the balcony instead of at Lena’s face. “I hear it sometimes, around the city. Supergirl’s easy to fantasize about. I know it’s just lust. ”

Kara paused. “I know it doesn’t mean anything to you. But you mean everything to me. If anyone should feel ashamed, it’s me.”

Before Lena could come up with something she could say, Kara was gone.

-----------

Lena tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend that night never happened. Kara doesn’t love me, she told herself. It’s just another lie.

Her anger boiled over one evening, when Kara landed again at Lena’s balcony, just to call her a villain. Lena didn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning and mumbling in disbelief that Kara would have the audacity.

So the next morning, she showed up at Kara’s door. 

Unslept and frazzled, and perhaps not entirely thinking straight when Kara opened the door, Lena marched in and turned, yelling without preamble. “It’s a fucking lie, Kara, you don’t just get to say that!” Lena shouted.

“What do you mean?”

“If you loved me…” Lena panted, as Kara’s eyes widened. “If you loved me, you couldn’t have hurt me like that!”

“I said I loved you,” Kara said, her voice tight with stress. “I never said I was good at loving you.”

Lena hesitated.

“I know I hurt you,” Kara said. “And I’ll never forgive myself for it. Just like I don’t think you’ll forgive yourself if you keep going with what you’re doing.”

“And you told me, to what? Win me over?”

“I already said, I told you because I didn’t want you to feel embarrassed about shouting for Supergirl-”

“I didn’t shout for Supergirl,” Lena growled.

Kara’s eyes widened at the implication, and Lena felt ice run through her veins as she realized what she had done. Without another word, Lena marched back towards the door, and left.

-----------

Is she right?, Lena thought. Will I regret this?

Has working with Lex ever gone well?

Kara was a liar. A liar. The years of deceit, the crocodile tears at the Pulitzer. This could just be another lie in a long list of lies and manipulations. A means of control. But why didn’t it feel that way?

“I said I loved you. I never said I was good at loving you.”

Lena leaned over her kitchen counter, putting her face in her hands. Could it really be that simple?

-----------

Kara tried to control the pounding of her heart as she made her way through the park.

It was a familiar sight, harking back to the day just a few years ago when Lena had made her announcement - that LuthorCorp would be LCorp. That was no longer true on Earth Prime, of course, but the place made Kara smile. It was one of the first places they had met.

She supposed Lena chose it as neutral ground. LuthorCorp, Catco, the DEO, either of their homes - those places all had much more baggage. But it left Kara asking, why? Why did Lena want to meet at all?

She found Lena by heartbeat before she saw her. Lena was sitting on a bench, sipping from a coffee cup, staring ahead at the park. She turned to Kara, though not quite meeting her eyes, nodding as Kara took a seat next to her.

Moments passed in silence.

“I’m not working with Lex anymore,” Lena said. “I messed up.”

“I messed up too,” Kara said. “I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”

Lena nodded, staring at her hands, swallowing harshly. “I want to try again.”

Kara’s eyes widened, before a small smile crossed her face. “I’d like that.”

“Do you think we can?” Lena asked. “Do you think we can fix this?”

“I have hope.”

-----------

One morning, a couple of months later, an article by Lois Lane caught Kate Kane’s eye. The news page featured a smiling Supergirl, standing tall and proud, with an audacious headline. “America’s Power Bisexual? Supergirl Comes Out.”

She got the girl, Kate thought, her lips quirking into a smile. She reached for her phone, sending off a quick text. “Congratulations, Danvers.”

[rowretro]

𝐋𝐄𝐎

✧Warnings: kissing, mafia hoon, blood, suggestive, dead body, detailed murder

✧Synopsis: Sunghoon is a very innocent man, a beautiful, sexy wife, 3 kids, a 12 year old girl and a 4 year old boy. He's a perfect family man who owned a homely café. He's just an ordinary person.... until one of the most feared mafia men paid a visit after a dreadful incident.

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"Honey, I'm sorry I have to overwork a few late hours at the office... I missed work so many times so I have a lot to do, I'll come home tomorrow..." Y/n said, from the airport as Sunghoon sighed. He had a small pout on his face as he looked at Ryuu "Sweetheart, must you work so late?" he asked as y/n smiled at him "I missed a lot of time, so many clothes to design for the new set, im sorry, I'll see you, I love you" she said as she hung up. Sunghoon stared at his home as he stared back at Ryuu, lying on his front on the soft blanket laid out on the floor "You aren't suspicious of me too are you?" Sunghoon asked as Ryuu squished his cheeks. "Of couwse not daddy!" he said as Sunghoon tilted his head "Why son?" "because youw my daddy!" he exclaimed as Sunghoon lifted him in the air, turned over and palced him on his chest.

Y/n didn't want to have her suspicions about him, she loves him, she always has, that sweet little nerd who hesitated to ask her out, Sunghoon. She trusts him, the man she trusted enough to have a baby with, to marry, trust with her deepest darkest secrets. She's just doing this as a formality is all... Just so everyone else knows, Well specifically the law. She made her way to board the flight back to Busan, where the orphanage he grew up in was. All the while, Officer Lee was sitting before a prisoner, who was caught in the big drug deal that was brought out by the Park Mafia. Hence he will know what happened to Leo.

"Listen Choi Yeonjun is it?...I hear you have your death sentence in about 3 weeks, I can bring up a petition, I have the power to cancel that out... You just need to do one thing.... Tell me the truth of what happened to Park Daeheon's son... LEO Park..." Heeseung tempted in a serious manner as the male before him started drumming on the table, glancing up at him "I've raised Leo for Daehoon, and I'm bound to die either way.... I'll tell you only because Im going to die anyway.... Park Daehoon treasured his only son.... but he treasured his mafia more, a mafia he'd do sacrifices for, in order to make sure his business runs successfully, the sacrifices started with animals, then eventually humans...." He started.

.FLASHBACK.

"Where the fucks' Leo? is he out messing about?! our drugs have been stopped by the police Goddamit what's going on?!" Daeheon complained over the call to his brother Park Jeonghan. "He's on it now, just trust him, ill be there in a minute." He replied simply hanging up. The man got in his car nodding at the driver. All the while, the police were yelling at the gang, having seized their vehicle. "Who's that smoking?! move out the way you fuckers, officer go drag the smoker here." the head officer said.

However, the armed gangsters moved out the way, and there, lying on his back, leg crossed over the other, a very fine man, smoking, his silver hair recognizable anywhere. "L-Leo? this is your truck?! fuck- let the vehicles go bro! sorry sir... we were told to seize them, so we assumed some other gang was using your route!" The officer excused, bowing nonstop as Leo smoked, sitting up. He was about to go for his usual violent mannerisms, and beat the shit out of those fuckers, but something caught his eye. A pink bow, a very long one... no two long ones, braided into the girl's black hair.

"Don't let it happen again." He coldly spat as he got up walking away. Leo hid by a tree as he stared at the girl, she looked as if she was in here teenage years, just about his age specifically, like 18? He never really paid attention to girls, or anything really, his whole childhood he just did what his father told him... as a child him and his uncle Yeonjun would visit the orphanage every now and then. Leo thought high school was useless for him, he was already smart, he studied so much in his free time, but when he saw his angel enter a high school, he regretted his decision of not going.

Since that day Leo had kept his eye on her, he secretly found out everything about her, he wanted to change for her, he even started wearing glasses, and suits, he found out her name's y/n.... y/n such a beautiful name, especially to put Park next to that name. She's everything he could ask for, he sworn to himself he'll always take care of her.... but he'll have to change for that. "Dad. I want out." he said as the man frowned "out on what" "this gang- mafia- drug business.... what we're doing is wrong, and I don't want to be a part of this." He said as the man glared at him.

He took note of his son's sudden random changes, every time he smiles, whenever he leaves the house at a specific time. Daeheon has been tailing his son. who led him straight to his next sacrifice. Y/n. In order for his mafia business to go without any issues, he needs his rock. Leo. Therefore the distraction needs to go... "WHAT THE FUCK?!" Leo yelled, as he knelt before the unconscious y/n. "Sorry son.... sacrifices must be made." Daehoon said as he tried to drag y/n's unconscious body away.

Yet Leo didn't let him. He beat the fuck out of him no matter what, then a suddenly he had a big blow to his head... he turned around to see his uncle Jeonghan. "if we don't have you you think this whole thing will crumble?!" he asked darkly as he glanced up at his injured brother, Daeheon. "You'd kill your own flesh and blood for this?!.... well fuck. you." Leo coughed up some blood as he threw a lit matchstick at the warehouse filled with drugs, With a gunshot, he laid unconsious in Yeonjun's arms...

.END FLASHBACK.

"So.... is Leo dead?" he asked as Yeonjun looked at him silently "I saw with my two eyes officer, my lil boy, he tried save the one thing that made him human, and he died..... he died in my very arms, and his so called farther was the man who fucking.... sorry...." Yeonjun apologized after lashing out. "It's ok.... and this woman... any chance she's still alive?... if so what's her name?" Lee Heeseung asked "We never knew who she was... she died in the fire, she must've been an orphan too".

Y/n had no memory of anything that happened that night, she had lost her memory of that night and the 3 months before that, hence she never cared for the random nightmares she had. She came home, happy that she knows her dear Sunghoon is not Leo. She came home to find Sunghoon sitting on the floor by the window, Ryuu asleep on their shared bed. "He slept in our room? sorry I took so long babe, how have the kids been?" She asked as Sunghoon glared up at her slapping the letter, that proved his documents are true, on the floor "This came in the post for you..." he simply said as Y/n 's blood ran cold.

"I didn't care when Officer Lee asked, it faintly hurt when Cherry argued with me but you?! my own wife?!.... how could you peacefully sleep with me thinking I was another man huh?!!!" he yelled, crying as Y/n kneeled before him. "Goddamit why would you have that suspicion?! I fucking love you like crazy is that not enough?! we have to kids together we're fucking married!" he added as she sniffled. "Dad?.... are you crying?" Ryuu asked as Hoon wiped his tears away. "Don't worry sweetheart, daddy had a nightmare... I'll take care of him hmm?..." Y/n said as Ryuu snuggled his stuffed toy falling asleep.

"Sunghoon... I believe you, I'd never suspect you, I just had to gather evidence for officer Lee without hurting you... but me even doing so is hurting you... I know words can't fix what I did so..." She leant in, kissing him passionately, as he held onto her waist. His love, his y/n his vulnerable little sweetheart, oh how she falls for his tricks. Of course Park Sunghoon is Leo, but to believe Leo is dead, Sunghoon should exist in the same timeline as Leo... He had made many mistakes in his past, but was willing to change for his sweet girl... his darling y/n.

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[nevermoreconfessions]

I kinda wanna see as Annabel is getting more positive character development Lenore to get more negative - see Annabel become nicer while Lenore becomes more destructive and anti-hero - would be an interesting contrast for them to swap positions

(Sorry for the 24-hour hiatus, everyone; I was very busy! I graduated, celebrated with family, and made a long drive home.)

Between you, Anon, and me, I think this is the route that the writers are taking.

First of all, Annabel Lee made her first friend. Her first actual friend. (PoshBesties™, we love them in this house.)

Prospero seems to have a geniuene care for Annabel — one that rivals what Lenore has with Duke. Prospero was the one who looked for Annabel, reached out to help her from that dusty closet, and went on a splendid little walk with her that resulted in the, "Can we be friends? Proper friends?" question.

(I half expected Prospero to be like, "...Were we not friends already?")

We can see throughout the comic that Annabel Lee and Prospero meet for tea. One can only assume that they gossip like the little old ladies that they are. With the little bits and pieces we see, I've begun to love their friendship (as little that has been shown of it).

Anyways, this friendship can be considered her first positive milestone.

Lenore?

Lenore has gotten into her first major argument with Duke (and Pluto). Morella seemed horrified upon hearing that there was a murder attempt involved. Nobody knows each other as well as they think they do. The foundations are set to crumble.

I can go on a ramble about how Lenore attaches onto these people too quickly because of her trauma/past, but anyways...

Also, Lenore is remembering more of who she was — an arsonist with a lot of issues and trauma. That's bound to cause a personality change. (I'm most excited to see how Lenore processes the relationship she had with Annabel.)

Personally, I'd find it pretty interesting if both characters had a change of heart that pushed them right back to where they started. In other words —

They might not meet in the middle, after all. They'll just be on opposite sides yet again.

EDIT: Let me specify something.

When I say that this would be interesting, I'm not saying it would be a interesting ending.

I believe that their eventual reunion would be enhanced if both of them understood where the other was coming from. That sort of, "I understand you completely, finally. Let's heal together," would be so sickeningly sweet.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno Prompts May-hem (get it?!); cw for more violence than I usually do, ymmv. Also I have a feeling this one shows my American-ness more than most, so uh, sorry? ^^;]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) 15: nightmare (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

'This,' John mutters to himself as he eyes the flashing red on the departures board, 'is a bloody nightmare.'

Sherlock frowns beside him. 'We're being shunted to a less direct route. Inconvenient, but hardly the stuff to disturb one's sleep.' 

John closes his eyes momentarily. By and large, he's a good fit for Sherlock's behaviours, even when they're--especially when they're?--somewhat off the beaten path. But sometimes he doesn't have the energy. He just doesn't.

They've been on a literally cold case in Nowhereton, Bumfuckshire, and although the jewellery was found and no one was hurt John could absolutely murder a home-brewed cup of tea. And he would very much like to hold his daughter.

'Don't worry, John, you'll be home to her soon,' Sherlock says to him as they board the overstuffed train. They're not the only ones whose night has been sidetracked, literally, but John's empathy is thin on the ground as he jostles his way to two open seats, fantasising about going for a rugby tackle if someone else gets their first.

Sherlock ends up doing the tackling, though, because he gives not one damn about how train passengers view him. And it's not really a tackle, just a Very Cold Look. And maybe a thrown elbow.

Amused, at least a little, John takes his seat.

They manage to get an hour in before it all goes to hell.

---

The sound of the train car sliding over something besides tracks is the first thing that happens -- and really it's more of a feeling than a sound, somehow.

At first.

'Sherlock,' John says quietly, his stomach twisting. 'What was that?'

'Likely just--'

But Sherlock is interrupted by a great dirty shake, like the train is a snake trying to shed its skin in a big ugly hurry.

'Shit,' John mutters, feeling adrenaline flood his system. 'Hang on to something.'

---

John doesn't wait until the dust clears; he's out of his seat and beating his way through the door at the end of the car the second there's stillness beneath him. Their coach is still on the tracks, but he somehow knows that those ahead of them are not so lucky.

The emergency lights are on, but they're flickering and John has to squint as he makes his way through. His gaze sweeps around and he listens hard, but everyone in the car seems to be suffering from merely shock, bumps and bruises, minor things.

The next car is where shit gets real. The angles are all wrong, and he can see several people tangled in an awful unnatural embrace with metal pieces popped out from seats and side rails.

'Jesus,' he hears himself mutter. 'This is not ideal.'

Sherlock is right behind him, which he'd known but not paid any attention to. 'Triaging a hoard of exhausted people in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with no avenues of immediate escalation?'

'Yeah, like I said. Not ideal.' 

Sherlock opens his mouth, but John has no time for whatever witticism is about to be gifted upon the world, so he steps away from the detective and further into the chaos.

He raises his voice, but tries to keep it calm. 'Hello, everyone. My name is John, I'm a medical doctor, and I'm here to help.'

---

It's a long fucking night. Four dead, a couple dozen injured. One cannot save them all.

---

Hours later, the sun peeking over the horizon and Molly sacked out on the couch, he's about to pivot onto the staircase to his room when Sherlock puts a hand on his elbow. 'Let's wash up first,' he says, voice low and firm. 'Your daughter doesn't need to see you covered in blood, even if it's someone else's.'

'God damn it,' John mutters, knowing Sherlock is right but hating it; his skin itches with the need to see his little girl. 'Fine, but quick-like.'

He sheds his jacket and button down, which had got the brunt of it, on the way to the toilet, then barely looks at himself in the mirror as he runs a flannel over his face and scrubs at his hands. Sherlock is quiet beside him, handing him soap and cloth when needed, without prompting.

John finishes, then looks up at him. 'Aren't you coming?'

Sherlock's face-- well, It does something very complicated before smoothing out into a small smile. 'All right, let's.'

---

Anticlimactically, Rosie barely stirs when John picks her up. His limbs are finally able to shake out the events of the last twelve hours, and he feels Sherlock's arms around him and beneath her like a bridge truss, supporting them both.

John breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of his daughter and his flatmate. His-- his family, he thinks, trying the word out.

'Stay,' he says quietly, not looking away from Rosie. 'Just-- Stay?'

Sherlock hums for a moment, then answers like it was never in question. 'Of course.'

They don't consider pyjamas, instead curling around each other's dusty skin in pants and vests while murmuring about inconsequential things, domestic things that send warmth spiralling through John to replace the chill that had settled in somewhere during the journey they've just finished.

'I do have one question,' Sherlock says finally, the words warming the skin at John's neck.

'Go on.'

'As you know, many common understandings about the English language, particularly when it comes to colloquialisms, are not part of my… erm, base worldview.'

'Right, I am aware.'

'So I'd like to confirm: When you called the train delay a nightmare, you were exaggerating for humour, and when you called the derailment "not ideal," you were…'

John chuckles tiredly. 'Being English.'

'Being facetious.'

'Yes.' He pauses, fingers in Sherlock's mildly tangled hair. 'Sometimes, it's all that gets you from one moment to the next. One body to the next.'

Sherlock murmurs a noise, and John feels his embrace tighten. 

'Well,' the detective finally says, voice deep and sleepy. 'Besides all that, I really must say that watching you in action was quite... informative.'

'Oh? In what way?'

'Informing me that I find your medical competency viscerally pleasing.'

John huffs a surprised breath. 'Yeah?'

'Mm-hmm. You're very good, and it's very attractive.'

'Noted,' John murmurs, eyes closed. 'Next time.'

'Mm-hmm.' Sherlock's palm is warm on his solar plexus, and John doesn't think twice as he succumbs to a deep, quiet sleep.

[❤️]

[a/n- I have not been in a derailment, but I have been in a train car when it ran over a live human being going 70mph, so forgive me for not being keen to research the former for the sake of accuracy.]

ETA OH GOD I forgot the best part! My inspiration for this piece:

[celaenaeiln]

Batman Issue #137 is fantastic

It's written so well it feels like a literary masterpiece, and I'm truly in awe of how well it's done. The parallelism, the character development and deterioration, the logic, the emotion, the art-all of it is spectacularly written. Like the people who wrote this issue must be some kind of geniuses to condens nearly a century of dc comic writing to come up with this. I highly, highly suggest everyone go read it because this is the most accurate representation of the members to date.

I know what I said is a contentious opinion but I think we need to step back from the issue and evaluate it from a "who is batman" perspective.

Batman at his core is a selfish human being. He created the identity because he wanted vengeance for the murder of his family, not because he particularly wanted to save the world. It's this desire that led him into a world of crime fighting because he refused to be the same as the person holding the gun.

Batman 137 is the peak depiction of Batman as an uncontrollable force of nature and what I love about this comic is they nailed him to a T. The batfamily's perception of Bruce are so accurate.

Dick and Barbara are exactly on the dot. He is out of control but also he's doing this to be in control.

Canonically, Bruce has a god complex.

And I know I shouldn't quote wiki but I like the way they worded their response:

"A god complex is an unshakable belief characterized by consistently inflated feelings of personal ability, privilege, or infallibility. The person is also highly dogmatic in their views, meaning the person speaks of their personal opinions as though they were unquestionably correct."

That is the core of who Bruce is.

Every action Bruce takes, he believes it is the best action. He is confident in his ability and he ensures his successes through planning and training. I believe in Dick and Barbara's points combined-Bruce is going out of control in order to be in control. He feels what he has done is not enough and thus is doing everything he can to correct that issue. To him, his personal opinions are unquestionably correct because he has analyzed every possible route to proceed in and has come to the one he believes is best.

This man was never meant to be a lovely family man which is precisely why Robin is so important to batman. Him hugging his kids, saying he's sorry, praising them-that's him on his very best days where everything is going his way. It's him on days where he's reaching into the past. It's him on days where he's tired and broken done. But that's not who he is at his worst.

And this issue is the downward cascade of his mental state.

At his worst, Bruce is the type of person who beats his kids for not following his rules:

He beats them for not obeying his orders:

He punishes them by endangering their loved ones:

He hurts them for not follow his rules and purposefully sets up tasks for them to fail for the purpose of them failing:

But

But even though he's done horrible things, he's not a bad person. he does it because he believes he's working in the city's best interest. And Jason understands this so well.

The reason why Selina calls Jason Batman's biggest failure is not because he's actually a failure but because he's the clearest proof of everything wrong with Bruce's God Complex.

Where Jason sees leniency, Bruce sees fault.

That's what makes their relationship so amazing. Bruce and Jason will never see eye to eye because their fundamental beliefs are different. It's a teetering relationship because they love each other but they can never accept each other and that delicate balance makes them so exciting (yeah sorry I love fcked up relationships).

Tim is on the fence

Before I can explain Tim's interaction, I need to drop Dick's, Cass's, Stephanie's and Duke's too

Okay back to Tim. Notice the extent of Bruce's reaction to each of the batfamily's views. Jason's view is the farthest from Bruce's and as a result he received the harshest punishment. Tim's view is grey and in response, Bruce's answer was grey too - a warning but not a damnation. Dick, Cass, Stephanie, and Duke's view on the issue was silence. They express no stand on the Selina vs Bruce's debate of criminals and as a result they receive an answer fitting of that.

The writers characterized each member of the family so, so, SO well. Everyone's perspective and character was on point and it didn't degrade any of their abilities, strengths, emotions, beliefs, or anything.

Furthermore, the family stands as one.

Dick checks in on Jason's mental health and makes sure he's feeling okay. Tim stops Bruce from killing Jason or hurting him too badly. The rest of the family shows up in time to protect the both of them and each other. Jason and Dick work together to bring Bruce down. When all of them talk on the batfamily channel, everyone gets an equal chance to speak including Steph. Which is a rarity.

The family dynamic is accurate.

Tim would look to Dick as the defacto leader for answers when Bruce is gone just like he did in every single other comic.

Damian would 100000% punch Jason in the face. He electrocuted him before, tried to kick him out, and attacked him before- he's not suddenly going to have reservations now.

Jason and Selina would absolutely work together the most and best because of their shared values and understanding of Gotham.

No one in this issue is irrational or out of character. Everything is so exact about this comic I'm over the moon by it! Sure it's not a "let's hug it out, guys!" issue but when has that ever made it bad? It's exciting, fun, meaningful, and logical and I love Bruce Wayne so incredibly much for it. I love the way he thinks, the way he acts, and what he believes.

If I were to characterize in a nutshell, I'd say issues 136 and 137 are all you need. The authors who created this - so much praise to them. They've capture each character as well as the family dynamic perfectly.

I can't speak much of Damian's intentions and behavior as of now because he's just entered the scene but I'm excitedly looking forward to the next issue.

[twst-drabbles]

For the sanctuary AU,

One of my characters reincarnates back and forth through time and dimension, so I got a thought while reading that one Drabble you wrote about the Caretaker being killed by the kidnappers.

So for the pet or sanctuary au,

What if after we die we kind of just. Show up one day out of the blue, kind of like

*wakes up*

‘Huh, wait.’ “OH SHIT! I LEFT MY BOYS!”

And just books it knowing it’s been a while since they died, I’m thinking like two decades so this mini version of their caretaker shows up ready to beat someone for hurting their boys.

‘Oh fuck oh shit oh damn it where the fuck do I-‘

“SUP MOTHAFU-“

*bashes head in with a chair*

“Hey sweetheart how are you? So sorry I’m late let’s go home- oh shit I have parents”

And goes back with these massive guys attached to them and not letting go ever.

(The bad end boys need a happy ending)

Hahaha that's a real comedic take. Anger is still fresh in their hearts since I would imagine that being dead doesn't exactly allow one to feel the full extent of time passing.

Though, me being me, I naturally have to think of the very, veeeeery angsty route that comes with the Caretaker being dead for this long. It's mostly going to be a ramble, and Crowley will take center stage for a bit because of course that be the first person I’d latch onto when thinking about how the death of the Caretaker would affect people, and how their sudden coming back would play out.

Let's see let's see...

So, obviously there would be many changes regarding everyone that's involved with the Caretaker in some form or fashion. They are a pretty beloved person within this neighborhood all things considered.

Before I turn my attention to the pets/familiars in question, I actually want to focus on Crowley of all people. He's a strange man, that's for sure. This weird unaging figure that's been in this neighbor for longer than anyone can remember. Back then, before you entered his life, he was just this strange and rather reclusive man in a hat that mutters to himself while collecting all sorts of odd magical items and other things that may as well be cursed. He didn't used to have a garden, actually, or any of the fancy sprinklers and

So, that being said, the death of the Caretaker would hit Crowley the hardest out of everyone involved. I cannot emphasize enough how much this affected this man. I know I don’t really write much about him in regards to the housepet and sanctuary au, but he’s a pretty integral part of the Caretaker’s life, and vice-versa.

That being said, Crowley is focused on one thing, and one thing only: righting wrongs. It’s a real quiet vengeance quest honestly. Hell, I hesitate to call it a vengeance quest because Crowley isn’t murdering out of any anger in him, he’s basically doing it out of obligation. Like this was the next natural step, when all Crowley wants to do is go back home and wallow in his misery and never come out.

There is this dangerous, single minded focus to him either way. He knows doing this won’t make him feel better, but it causes him misery to think that the people that hurt the Caretaker could still be alive. That they must be rolling in their grave, unable to find peace because he chose to stay inside and let time rot him from the inside.

It’s kind of hilarious to think about. Where, in the event of the Caretaker’s unfair and early death, Crowley ends up becoming the main character. At least, for a time.

So, that being said, the pets do end up being rescued by Crowley, but it’s pretty much clear that the thought of carefully taking care of them is not in his head. He gets them out of their various situations, and then pretty much leaves them to their own devices to complete this hunting quest he’s on. And once he’s got everyone and got rid of those that hurt the Caretaker, he’ll retreat back into his home and become the hermit he used to be.

So yeah, the pets and Crowley will have an interesting situation going on between them. They appreciate the fact that he rescued them, certainly, but they’re not close. Crowley’s priority has always been the Caretaker, and it feels like dangerous territory to tread when attempting to help him move on.

And when the Caretaker just comes back two decades later, Crowley is going to be… weird honestly. Years of being despondent to the world and completing his revenge and getting all the pets back and still without the Caretaker, only to have them back as though death never touched them in the first place would mess him up in a different way.

We’re pretty much used to Crowley being this flight of fancy, air-headed bird of man, doing whatever the hell he wants in that bumbling–and sometimes selfish–way of his. For all his flaws, his heart is usually in the right place. The annoying crow man we all know and love.

Now we get to deal with a version of Crowley that’s let himself unhealthily stew in his grief for far longer than even the pets lets themselves grieve.

Have you ever been dotted on by someone who relies so heavily on your safety and happiness that they react like they’re dying whenever you get so much as a paper cut? Like their own safety is second fiddle compared to yours, and will probably make themselves sick with worry if you go missing for too long?

Yeah, Crowley’s kinda like that. He tries to act normal, tries to go back to that jolly self but every time the Caretaker so much as gets a cut, everything about him goes silent and Crowley’s eyes grow real intense.

Dude’s plagued by some intense and horribly unchecked paranoia. And has an unhealthy dependence on the Caretaker.

So anyways, onto the pets! In no particular order and obviously not going to talk about all of them because there’s just too many.

So anyways, I really can’t imagine the familiars would be stuck in their horrible situation. And by the time the Caretaker reappears, back from the dead, they’ve all gone their separate ways.

While all of them are pretty much functioning as familiars and pets should, they haven’t really healed and are simply sweeping everything under the rug for the sake of those in their group. Forcing themselves into a “normal” routine while refusing to address all the things wrong with themselves. Resentment, naturally, is bound to pop up.

I’d say stuff in this au reflects what goes on in the actual canon material, though with everything being tied back to the Caretaker and the fact that none of the pets have forgiven themselves for letting them die, even though there was literally nothing they could’ve done. They all have done their best.

Riddle’s tyrannical behavior? Hasn’t forgiven himself for not being stricter with his rules, for being so lax that people came in and killed the Caretaker. A tighter grip on his garden means he can better protect the people in it. And when they even break one rule, no matter how benign, they must be punished so such a thing never happens again. Because one slip up can lead to more uninvited danger, and another life lost.

Leona’s nihilistic attitude and resentment towards Malleus? Leona has tried his best and still couldn’t have saved the Caretaker, and Malleus, being gifted with more power than anyone else, should’ve been able to save them but he didn’t. They were all useless. So, what’s the point in trying when, no matter how hard you search and improve oneself, you can’t reverse the mistakes made? All Leona has is his resentment, and so he will bring it forth.

Azul’s taking advantage of people and hoarding of wealth? The world runs on money, and without it, you’re less than nothing. And when you’re less than nothing, you can easily be hurt and killed without a second thought. Hoard enough wealth, put enough value on one’s self, and you’ll basically be nigh untouchable. And surely, when you’re finally untouchable, you’ll be able to protect everything.

Jamil’s resentment towards Kalim and his plans to turn everyone against him? The people that have killed the Caretaker originally wanted to target Kalim and his family for his own pets. Unfortunately, Caretaker was friends with Kalim and, they’re the easier target. It shouldn’t have been them.

Vil’s obsession with perfecting other, himself and breakdown at his own perceived ugliness? It’s his emotional crutch, his physical evidence that he can do well for himself, that he’s not falling apart at the seams with the death of the Caretaker. Neige is doing well for himself after all, So well. So so so well. So Vil must also do well, must be better, in fact.

Idia’s resentment of the happier world around him and overindulgence in various hobbies to the point of being horribly socially stunted? Trying to retreat back into happier times before the death of the Caretaker. It was easier, back then. Everything was so much easier that this current world is just… not worth it.

Malleus’s frustrations at being left behind as time continues to move while he remains stuck in place? He’s still adjusting to a routine without the Caretaker there to keep him company. He still has habits that he developed in response to being around the Caretaker, he still sets up his diner table with an extra plate, and always wakes up in the sunlight expecting to hear their voice somewhere in the distance. It’s unfair, really.

The Caretaker is dead and gone, has been for a while, so none of them register that all of their problems stem from the fact that they feel heavy guilt for watching them get killed. They all think they’re ‘better’ now. They’re not. They still got problems.

So yeah, when the Caretaker comes back, all their coping mechanisms are going to go out of wack. There will be a happy ending, but boy is it going to be hard to get to.

Fun stuff, fun stuff.

[transingthoseformers]

So, I am not sure if tumblr ate this ask, but hi hello. I am the same anon who used to ramble and added fuel to the whole "Megatron being a clerk instead of a gladiator" TFP AU! Came back with more stuff for it!

Thought I more or less resend what I originally sent or well summarize it as I am not sure if Tumblr ate the ask :'D.

But the basic gist is, in the AU, instead of Tarn being a crazed fanboy of Megatron, he's instead Megatron and Optimus's adoptive (or bio) son. The idea being Megatron, if going with the adoptive route, found a young Damus on the streets, alienated by everyone else due to his ability. Megs takes him in, leading to Optimus and him adopting the young mech. If we go with the bio route, Megs was Tarn's carrier and Optimus was his sire, with some panic involved depending on when Tarn was convinced (if it was Clerk days, the two think Trion would kill them, he doesn't it, he happily accepts Tarn as like a grandson. If it's early into Optimus being a prime, they worry over what the council will do.)

Tarn is the eldest of OP and Megs kids, adopted or not. He is the older brother to Smokescreen, Bumblebee, Hot Rod, and Mirage. They go to him for advice which can be a mixed bag since it could be something very well thought out and helpful, or Tarn suggesting murder lol.

And for funnies, Tarn is just an edgy name he decided to go by. He heard where Megs was from and went "Ah yes, I shall be called this now." Only his family call him Damus, to either tease him (his brothers) or for when he's in trouble (OP and Megs.)

Because, yeah, while Tarn is more sane? I would say in this AU, he still kind of violent and murder hoboish lol. Like, he is more adjusted and clearly has a healthy sense of admiration and sense of justice, but he acts more like an anti-hero, alongside the other DJD members. Since I can see him picking up other outcasts and creating their version of the DJD in this AU. In this AU, they go out and track down corrupted powerful people and end them in their own way. Megs and OP getting why he does it, but also scared it will backfire and hurt Tarn instead.

But yee that's the gist of it.

Sorry! It took a bit to get to this

This sounds pretty cute so far, and the idea of a shorter Roddie going to Tarn with relationship drama and Tarn immediately suggesting killing his partner/ex is kind of fucking hilarious

Interesting how in this au, despite an undeniably better upbringing and better influences in his life, Tarn still has some violent tendencies. Interesting.

There's a lot of cool directions that can go

[altbite]

Enemies To Friends *Konig Headcanon*

I think i have a problem. Anyway Konig x GN!Reader - Enemies to Friends to Maybe Lovers. Kinda Long. Sorry not sorry.

__

It starts out simple. Konig was the new guy, and although you don’t have beef with recruits, he had skipped his way into being the lead on a mission. A mission you have been trying Price to make you lead of for weeks.

You worked your ass of to impress Price and show him you are more than capable. So when he announced Konig would be the lead, you were pissed.

You weren’t even pissed at Price, even though it was his doing. You redirected your anger to Konig.

The boys (Gaz, Soap and Ghost) all saw you get ticked off by this because they also knew you were aiming for that role.

Price waited for you to come talk to him, even yell at him gently, because of his decision. But you never did. You accepted his decision but you sure as hell weren’t going to be buddies with Konig.

But it gets better. You were assigned to that mission as Konig’s second in command. 

Konig had attempted to talk to you afterwards, but you blew him off. You walked away and he didn’t understand why. This happened a few times.

You were sitting by yourself, playing around with your combat knife whilst sharpening it, and Konig walked up, you immediately told him to fuck off. 

He had also had enough, finally raising his voice and asking what your problem was.

Continuing to sharpen your knife and not making eye contact, you told him he was the problem

“Elaborate, please”.

You licked your lips, ready to chew him out, looked at him for a moment without replying.

“You are the problem. Not that hard to understand”

“Whatever problem you have with me can’t be happening on the mission”

You stoop up with speed, pointing the knife at him. “Exactly! You stole MY position, the one I worked for. Not you. No. You came in and stole it without thinking, and sure maybe it wasn’t your decision but if it weren’t for YOU, there would be no problem”.

Konig just stood, and stared. Whether he was speechless or processing what you said, you left the room.

The tension was high between you two, to the point it made everyone in the room uncomfortable and you refused to acknowledge his existence.

The time of the mission came around, and although you weren’t going to be besties with Konig during it, you couldn’t exactly ignore him. Despite circumstances, you would have his back on the field (or at least some of it).

During the mission, you had encountered enemies and guns went ablaze. You could see Konig was dealing with a lot more enemies than you and although you could've backed him up, you knew he could take care of himself.

Plus the other recruits were helping so you focused on your part.

Konig did end up getting shot in the arm, a scratch for a man his size you thought but you killed the last guy standing for him. He side eyed you, with murderous intent. 

The mission ended up being a success and made it to exfil. On the route back, you avoided Konig and stayed with some of the other recruits.

Once you reached base, Price applauded the success. Neither you nor Konig mentioned anything that happened on field, it wouldn't benefit anyone.

He cornered you when you were alone, snapping at you. “What the fuck was that earlier?!”

“What? Nothing happened”

“Nothi- Nothing happened? You were supposed to watch my back. I could've died”.

“But you didn’t. So quit fucking complaining like a bitch”.

Soap walked in looking like a lost puppy before any other words were exchanged. Konig stormed off and you went to bed.

This continued for a few months. Eventually though, you two just ignored each other. No more side eyeing, snarky comments or full on arguments.

Price had lectured you both multiple times about being more friendly, or at least tolerating each other, which was the prompt that stopped the constant yelling. Price accepted it as he was also fed up.

When it came to missions, Price stopped pairing you two together, but on occasions when it did happen, you both dealt with it. 

When you two were alone in a room, even for a second or two, you did mumble insults at him and he at you.

It was always a mix of “Fuck you”, “Prick”, etc.

When he was speaking to anyone, you’d listen in without looking. Curiosity still got the best of you and you could use some blackmail on him. 

As you watched him become friends with the boys, avoiding him was harder. He would hang around them when you weren’t there, and multiple times have you been to awkward to walk into that conversation.

Konig did the same thing though when you were with them.

When he finally did butt into a conversation (usually for good reasons like mention briefings or something Price wanted passed on), you stared at him and dropped snarky comments where you could. He would ignore you and continue talking before leaving.

There wasn’t really a day when you two stopped hating each other. It naturally crumbled away as you interacted more, mostly because of other people.

Ghost has brought it up to you and you ignored him, thinking he was bluffing. But he was right. You did start acknowledging him. You still hated him for the stunt he pulled and it was enough for you to dislike him.

The moment it really took a turn was on the way to a mission. You were talking to Gaz and some other soldiers, while Konig was talking to a different group, and whatever he said, you turned your attention to them and gave Konig a sarcastic comment. 

He rolled his eyes at you while the others chuckled and you got smug about it. 

It continued to happen and both of you were sassing each other. It was worse during missions when you talked through comms. 

While everyone enjoyed the bickering, Price had wished you two go back to not speaking (he was secretly proud you two were bonding though, somewhat)

Soon the sarcasm and comments turned into praise for a good job, followed up by commenting some wack shit like “Good job for not dying, but I definitely could’ve done that better than you, AND taken less time. Dumbass” or “You’re welcome for saving your ass. Can’t you have dying on me yet”

Soon you two did become friends, and everyone was relieved. They were all rooting for this friendship for ages because the tension and awkwardness could be left behind.

You found things to bond over, and sometimes it involved making fun of Soap and Ghost. 

Soap when you annoy/make fun of him: TnT

Ghost: -_- >_>

Konig had apologized to you about the stealing your mission, and even though you accepted his apology, you also apologized for taking your anger out on him.

With the issues now in the past, you two became unstoppable on field. Okay maybe not unstoppable but definitely great together. Outside of field, you two were a menace to society.

Maybe Lovers??

Ghost has caught you multiple times staring at Konig with “puppy in love eyes”. You brushed it off. But it stuck at the back of your mind.

When you watched and listened to Konig ramble about something, you would stare with awe, your face softened and a smile on your face and once you catch yourself doing it, you stop immediately.

Konig did the same thing, but his was harder to detect.

He did little things for you, like make you coffee or give you biscuits. It was his way to appreciate you without letting you know. 

Mans knew he was catching feelings for you and it scared him. He was scared because he thought things would go back to the way it used to be: hatred. He didn't want to risk it so he did his best to hide away from it.

Was it eating him alive? Yes. 

He would go to bed thinking about the day, thinking about all the conversations he had with out, and wondering if he might’ve slipped up somewhere. His thoughts of you would keep him awake at night sometimes. It drove him crazy.

Now on a usual basis, you were a “no thoughts, head empty” person. When you did start thinking about Konig and realizing you might like him, you blocked it out by listening to music. Music drowned out thoughts for you. 

Until a song you could relate to Konig would come on. Then you groaned. People around base have seen you actively do this.

When you thought about your growing feelings for the man, you were more worried than scared. Despite being on good terms now, you would overthink and sometimes believe that deep down, Konig still hated you. You gave him hell for months, so why would he let it go?

Bonus

Ghost and Price have tea together and talked about you and Konig and how you are both oblivious to each other.

The following scene has happened many times:

You and Konig are subtly flirting. Price and Ghost are by the counter in the kitchen watching this interaction. The give each other the side glance of “You seeing this shit Ghost” and “They are doing it again Captain” and sip their tea.

[devinox-art]

Kyle from the @sanguinesky-if. Listen, he's my favorite and no I won't take any criticisms. Ramblings under the cut:

Everyone talking about thirsting after the detective, but there's no way this man doesn't have a least one secret admirer (unless that was Kelly and that's why that random jealousy scene exists).

Fun Fact: I did not clock the "You're worried about Kelly" option as the Detective expressing jealousy towards Kelly the first few times I selected it and just thought the Detective was going "Aww, how sweet, he does care". I have since been picking the option right under to try and get this man to relax (a fruitless task since they start arguing immediately afterward 🤣)

(Side note: no hate against that jealousy moment, but you have to be holding some serious ill will against someone if your first thought in that situation is "oh no, is my man crushing on her?" and not "oh no, is she going to lose her job?" But I personally can't imagine my character being jealous either. In fact, Darcy would be highly amused if someone tried vying for Kyle's attention because she knows him all too well.

But if he decides the reciprocate for any reason? Pray for him.)

Kyle, wear you're damn glasses, you coward.

P.S. Sorry about his nose, the guy I was referencing had a really interesting nose and I couldn't resist drawing it 👉👈

More Ramblings

!!Spoilers for the end of Chapter Two if you take K's route!!

While I'm at it: that scene in Kyle's office is actually my favorite to dissect. Like, they're both kind of equally responsible for what happened. The Detective is the one that initiates it, first of all, but it's not entirely unreasonable. At this point of the story, the situation sounds like it will actively interfere with their job, on top of the stress of unsolved murders, and - depending on choices made, on top of grief. A lot people would want answers in this situation, and knowing there's someone who has them would point them in their direction.

But then you walk in and the Inspector is noticeably Stressed the Fuck Out. But you have a job to do and need a resolution to the problem that cropped up.

The Inspector does have the answers. They knew about the situation but either felt like you didn't need to know or couldn't know to avoid possible interference. This information is understandably above the Detective's pay grade. Maybe under different circumstances the Detective would've come to the same conclusion but they are also Stressed the Fuck Out and are feeling entitled to some answers since, from their POV, this is now directly involving them. Tensions rise and the resulting argument ends with the Inspector telling the Detective to quite.

This is, of course, A Dick Move.

But the way this line is delivered – not snapped out of anger or out of inpulse, but with a sort of disconnect that usually comes with a dawning realization, is so interesting to me.

At the end of the day, K didn't mean to say this, but whatever realization they came to, made them actively think, in that moment, that this was the safest resolution, and it slipped out. The Inspector actively doesn't want the Detective in harms way, but the Detective is acting too determined. The frustration both sides are feeling right now!

The Inspector just wants the Detective to act in their own best interests, but can't or won't say why out of this inexplicable fear, and the Detective is literally just trying to do their job but is either being judge as incapable of doing it by their offical Deputy Chief, is having to deal with outside interference who don't seem to respect anything the department is trying to do, and is purposefully being left out in the dark in a way that is preventing them from judging the risks themselves; everyone has taken it apon themselves to do this for them in this reguard! The Detective is literally just being told to stick to these strangers, even though these strangers are apart of the problem the Detective is having, and if they can't follow their orders they shouldn't be involved at all! The Drama ✨️

Additionally:

In Darcy's POV, she takes it upon herself to calm Kyle down, assuring him it's not his job to know EVERYTHING that is going in in the department. Kyle isn't the actual Deputy in Chief for one, and two he's not omnipotent. Then in the ensuing arguement, she snaps out "Because it's your job!"

This particular conversation feels very much like Darcy trying to point out he's taken on too much and is letting his actual duties fall to the wayside (I had a supervisor like this, and boy did I have to solve a lot of problems on my own that I probably shouldn't have). Whether this is a valid arguement to make in this particular context is debatable (again, this topic is probably above the Detective's pay grade, but there is an arguement to made about it directly impacting her), and it's not like either of them is thinking any of this through, I just find it interesting how these replies line up.

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight ~ Chapter 6 - His Side Story: “A Faint Wriggling, Deep Inside My Chest”

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: This is a side story from Ellis' perspective of the events of Chapter 6, as such it too contains depictions of murder and several mentions of blood.

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

(For me, Kate is the person I want most to be happy.)

(I’m happy that she’s been smiling more and more lately. And…)

Kate: “Please tell me about what you like, Ellis. Then I can make you happy tomorrow.”

Kate: “So, what’s your favorite food?”

--

Kate: “Oh,  I spread a lot of butter on the toast before it got cold.”

Kate: “Thank you, as always.”

Kate says she wants to make me happy too.

She listens to my preferences and feelings and remembers them carefully.

(Kate is a wonderful person.)

(…I don’t want to make you unhappy.)

The night I went with Jude and Kate to look for the ‘ring-leader” involved in the kidnapping incident.

I’d seen the woman who had come into contact with the ‘ring-leader’ being dragged into a back alley, and reflexively ran after her.

Reaching the back of the alley—I saw multiple men surrounding the woman and trying to restrain her by covering her mouth.

Scenes like this aren’t uncommon��What I do is the same as usual.

Ellis: “Are you the kidnappers?”

The kidnappers were startled by the sudden voice and immediately attacked me.

I just have to deal with them one by one.

A man who looks like a kidnapper: “—Women are worth money, ‘em alive. Kill the bastard.”

(Women…Ah)

Kate: “Gh…”

I heard a gasp behind me and realized that Kate had followed me.

(…it was her.)

(Kate is a hard worker who can muster courage even in times like these.)

I gently restrained Kate, who was holding a deck brush in her trembling hands.

Ellis: “Kate, stay here.”

(I’ll finish this quickly.)

I kick off the ground.

Taking a life is as easy as polishing a shoe if you know how to use the tools.

If you cut a vital point with a knife, the body will collapse to the ground as though a string has been cut.

(Just a few more.)

(I need to finish this quickly and give her peace of mind.)

Kate had been scared when she saw the men attacking the woman.

(I’ll end it right away.)

I silence the last one and let my feet settle on the ground.

Ellis: “…I guess that’s everyone.”

The timing must have been relatively good.

I looked around the alley that looks like I’ve spilled jam all over it, see there are no survivors, and look up.

“Kate…”

Kate: “Eh…Ah.”

Ellis: “Your face is pale… Are you okay?”

I put the knife in its sheath and reached out to Kate.

At that moment her body trembled.

Ellis: “…”

(--it was)

(From Kate’s point of view, these men and I are the same.)

I’m a ‘human being who kills people’ for his job.

(I had a feeling that Kate, was learning to trust me just a little bit… I forgot.)

I want to make her happy, though.

I’m the kind of person who scares her in the first place.

(I should’ve been more careful)

Ellis: “…I’m sorry. You’re scared.”

Ellis: “I should have asked you to keep your eyes closed so you wouldn’t have to see it.”

Kate: “Um, what… what about the woman?”

Ellis: “Hmm, she’s fine… I think she’s just passed out.”

Jude: “Tch… Ya killed everyone?”

Ellis: “Jude. What about the store?”

Jude: “When I came in, he’d already escaped in a horse-drawn carriage from the back door. He’s quick to run.”

Jude, who was supposed to have been chasing the ‘ring-leader’ walked over to a corpse and inspected it coldly.

(…Ah, I think I’m going to be scolded.)

Jude: “Jeez, let at least one of ‘em live. Otherwise I can’t interrogate ‘em.”

(On second thought)

Ellis: “Sorry. He said as long as we didn’t kill the commander I would be fine…Also.”

Ellis: “They were trying to harm Kate.”

Kate: “…”

Kate took a quiet breath again.

(Maybe I reminded you of what happened earlier.)

(…Sorry.)

Ellis: “… It’s okay now, Kate.”

Her frozen expression never relaxed… and I felt a little sad.

(Kate, you’re still silent)

Step by step we proceed down the hallway.

I walked behind her a little ways so as not to make her even more anxious.

(Is this okay…?)

(If you’re worried, if you’re scared, I want to be by your side.)

(But with me, it might have the opposite effect.)

While I was wondering what I should do to make Kate happy, we ended up in front of her room.

Ellis: “We’re here, Kate.”

Kate raised her head and looked straight at me.

(If you look at me, it might remind you of something scary, but… you’re so kind.)

Kate: “About earlier… Thank you for protecting me, Ellis.”

Ellis: “No. It’s my job to escort you, Kate.”

Ellis: “But, this time I failed…”

Ellis: “If you hadn’t seen that, you would be happier.”

Ellis: “I already knew you were a hard worker and that you would push yourself even if you were scared.”

Ellis: “I should have said, “You follow Jude” before going into the alley.”

Ellis: “Next time, I’ll be careful not to kill someone in front of you.”

(Even if I show you something like that…I wonder if I can make you smile again.)

(I need to think of a way.)

Thinking about this, I was about to turn on my heel, when—

Kate: “…Ellis…!”

My palm was grabbed by something warm.

(Kate…?)

Kate: “Ellis…Aren’t you having a hard time…?”

Ellis: “…”

Even though she must have been scared just a moment ago, Kate held my hand and looked straight at me.

(…I…?)

(Why would you say that?)

I was a little surprised when Kate asked me if it wasn’t hard being the object of her fear.

Then I was convinced.

Ellis: “Ah… I see.”

Ellis: “I thought you were just scared of me.”

(Kate is a wonderful person)

She’s the kind of person who listens intently to my feelings, my happiness, and remembers things like that.

Ellis: “You were worried that I was hurt, so you made that face…”

Ellis: “…You’re so kind, Kate.”

Ellis: “If I say it like this, I might scare you again.”

Ellis: “It’s not that painful, so don’t worry.”

Kate: “…Really?”

Ellis: “Yeah, really… See, my hands aren’t shaking like yours.”

As if to reassure her, I held up our joined palms.

--“Killing people and laughing is what the devil does.”

The words I’d once heard echoed in my head, making me feel a little sad.

(But the reason I’m smiling now is not because I’m happy.)

My heart is not moved by the idea of taking people’s lives as a part of my job.

(My desires have nothing to do with it, so I’m neither happy nor sad.)

I still hold the lid on my desires tighter and tighter.

(This time, I’ll take care of someone as wonderful as Kate.)

Kate seemed to have made up her mind and grabbed my hand tightly.

Kate: “…Hot milk.”

Ellis: “Eh…?”

Kate: “My body is cold… don’t you sleep better after drinking it?”

Ellis: “…”

I suddenly remembered drinking it on sleepless nights when I was little.

It has a sweet, relaxing, and calming taste.

(…I loved it.)

(Especially when drinking it in the middle of the night.)

Ellis: “I’d like that.”

Ellis: “In the middle of the night, I actually like hot milk with butter and sugar.”

Even though she wouldn’t know anything about my heart or the memories I had just remembered,

Kate looked happy, but somehow sad, and took my hand.

(Kate… is a bit of a troubled person.)

(…she’s too nice.)

I want to make her happy, and that’s all I feel, but something seems to be mixed in with it.

The desire I had pushed deep inside my heart began to stir in my chest.

Next Chapter