#Sorry to everyone that liked the murder route I was going...

[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

[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.

[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.”

[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)

'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:

[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.

[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.

[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.

[princesssszzzz]

Brace yourselves, a long rant

Rhaena’s S2 characterization

Baela’s S2 character moment changes

I’m gonna be sooo disappointed if Rhaena’s set up with Daemon not being a good father to her is not expanded in S2 and then her moving to hatch Morning. I already said in multiple post she did have dialogue and it was just ignored by fans. Her claiming vermithor to me is not good writing but luckily that’s not gonna happen. If they want her interacting with Vermithor an attempted claim would be interesting, but that is not her dragon and totally ruins Morning and her connection with Daenerys. One of the theories I had was her having a fear of dragons because of Vhagar burning Laena and while she’s in the Vale she becomes more confident in herself and overcomes her fear, but Daemon is dead before he gets a chance to see that evolution in her. They seem to be dismissing Rhaena’s lack of dragon and just letting fans go without an answer why she still doesn’t have a dragon. Which is gonna be annoying with people making up their own theories or just calling her weak and stupid like they already were. 🙄

And the issue is that goes against the set up they already built for her with the young Aemond parallels, her wanting to claim Vhagar which is not in the book, and her talking to Laena about feeling less than Baela being favored by Daemon. The camera cutting to her in ep.10 and the script saying that scene she feels bad about because she’s supposed to be the “rider” for “riderless” dragons Daemon is referring to. A lot of people want the entire storyline for their favs switched up to give them more screentime and say they’re more important during the dance, but I don’t want that for Rhaena because she’s interesting already and an underrated book character even with the little she gets. That’s why I purposely have post separating her character from Baela and letting them be individuals and not just “those sisters” or “Daemon and Laena’s daughters.”

The characters don’t need to be changed, they need to be expanded on and allowed to be human. She already has a decent foundation accidentally or on purpose 😂 I love the idea of them incorporating Rhaena politically. This actually makes sense and doesn’t change anything from the book, because if Rhaena is devoted to team Black or believes helping makes her safer from the greens then of course she would try to be helpful to the cause even from the Vale and dragonless. Book canon she thinks Aemond is a psycho running around mass murdering and has no problem kinslaying and taking out eyes. I hope they go the Rhaenys route with Rhaena and make it a self preservation thing or attempting to create peace. We already have characters like Jace that are just understandably there to support the team no matter what so it would be nice to have a variety of reasons why other people are doing what they’re doing. Rhaena thinks the greens want her and her sister harmed and dead so she’s compelled to actively advocate for team black is better than her just cheerleading for team black while having almost no interactions with them and they’ve done nothing for her. The set up for Game of Thrones universe to be political and almost everyone does what’s in their best interest vs House of the Dragon every decision is emotional because family and no one is playing the game is not something I like. Such a downgrade in writing and character motivations. Sorry I know Daemon is her dad but they have a strained relationship 😂 I can only honestly see her making emotional decisions for Baela, Rhaenys, younger baby characters since she’s nurturing to them. But she’s not their mother and I don’t want them making her a nanny. Another reason I’m glad she isn’t a dreamer like some people wanted her to be. I want Rhaena to be present with what’s going on for deeper interactions with other characters. If they choose to go the route of engaging with fan theories like Margaery being her descendent they can incorporate some show!Margaery parallels or call backs as long as it makes sense. Because Rhaena has so many parallels and connections to other characters like Daenerys and Sansa there’s so much they can do with her that makes sense, isn’t forced, and without changing anything from how she’s written about in the book. Rhaena can be such a diplomatic character if they take time and energy to put into her arc. She is the most reasonable character, she’s down to marry a Hightower after everything that happens. I love that in the kid fight scene she’s the one who yells at Jace after he pulled the knife out and then shakes her head at Aemond to not hit Jace with the rock. They can really use that and her difference in personality from Daemon at the Vale when/if she interacts with Gerold Royce whom Daemon threatened and totally pissed off and they just moved on like that didn’t happen.

Now this guy probably hates Targaryens 😭

Baela

I do have a concern about Mary Sue characterization of Baela because I already know someone will try to make this into an issue to hate on her. I have a problem with “fans” of Baela cheering that characterization on. Idk seems like some people are totally lacking awareness or intentionally trying to set Bethany and her character up for backlash and to be disliked. An extra fight scene with her would be amazing and I would like to see that but they shouldn’t just throw her character in a fight or a controversial scene like they did making one up Rhaenys just for shock value.

If they’re gonna make Baela a killer early on and shooting people with arrows and training with Dark Sister, they probably shouldn’t have had her acting shocked/scared at Daemon cutting off Vaemond’s head and she should’ve had less of a reaction like Aegon. Idk if they go the fighting route I think Baela should atleast have something similar to Aemond where’s there’s a shock from him killing for the first time and it sets in that this is the first time they’ve been to war and in a super violent situation like this. They aren’t the same as Daemon & Criston that’s already been around violence. Having her go to war killing just totally emotionless to seem badass in S2 is not going to be perceived well. I’ve said this a million times, Baela is a good person, Daemon is not a good person. So Baela being “cool” like Daemon a little is fine because they do have some similarities in personality, but she can’t literally start acting like Daemon like fans claim because then she would be a piece of shit which causes an issue with how other good characters interact with her. Also no one is going to convince me that Laena created a piece of shit daughter 😂 Like sorry Baela and Rhaena cannot blindly co-sign and cheer on everything Daemon or anyone else does because then that’s a bad reflection on their own morals which is more Laena and Rhaenys, less Daemon. Unless the show wants to make it clear they aren’t in a position to question anything like Viserys threatening to cut tongues off for questioning Jace’s parentage right in front of them. For Rhaena especially growing up right by Harwin’s sons probably hearing all the threats for that “treason” I mean there’s a reason she would just be quiet she’s been 10 years really not able to say anything.

But anywho back to Baela I think I actually made a post about this last year and modern producers always do this with young female characters and it’s so bizarre. Trying to create the “perfect” character that has no issues, and is automatically loved by any and everyone, and the contrarian fans start hating on them and writing thinkpieces about how boring they are and the writing makes no sense. And tbh it’s very young fans that tend to cheer on bad or wattpad-esque writing like we’ve seen already from forced character relationships in S1 and relationships people want to happen in S2. It tends to be older fans that critic the show heavily. I’m gonna be very annoyed if Baela gets any hate. Bethany is a great actress and Baela is not a hatable character whatsoever so it’ll be irritating if the showrunners even give those people a reason to complain and nitpick. I don’t mean Baela needs constant drama in her life to be interesting. Baela has wayyy less going on than Arya and I find her more interesting than Arya but the writing has to make sense and not creating questions and plot holes. I hope there’s no sabotage and limiting the actresses opportunities. People have to understand the characters they’re supporting are fictional but the actresses are real, it’s their real career. I used to act and I’m sure especially for a big project like this, more (acting) emotional diversity and range of scenes >> more opportunity to show off acting chops >> more fans >> more opportunities for their upcoming projects

It’s seems like she’s been set up with intentional lackluster writing in S1 but hopefully that’s not the case and S2 the writers will redeem themselves. Having Rhaena and Baela there just smiling, nodding, and saying they support team black is just soooo…..disrespectful to Phoebe and Bethany. Especially when they’ve already added so much to other characters so they are capable of doing it but choosing not to for them. Bethany and Phoebe are young up and coming actresses happy for the opportunity so they can’t and won’t say anything other than they’re happy to be there. Also I’m pretty sure it’s against their contract to publicly disagree with the writers so people who take the actresses nodding their heads or repeating interview lines they were told to say as genuine approval should possibly rethink that. Most of the characters have horrible show writing tbh, and we’ve already seen backlash for this. Most of the characters they changed from the book created plot holes or people just questioning how things don’t make sense. A show with this level of budget and fans should not be having these issues. S1 really made it seem like they just don’t GAF 😂😂 I find it so hard to believe GRRM was apart of that. S2 better not let me down and don’t even get me started on Nettles erasure.

[legend-of-cupcake]

I’ve seen a bit of discourse on Twitter, with people calling Nene toxic because she shot 3 Cupid arrows into a sleeping Hanako. It’s… wild. Imagine hating the main character of the entire manga 💀 I could make an essay on why she’s not toxic, but instead I’m gonna go down the other route and say:

If you think Nene is toxic, then oh boy do I have some news for you about Hanako!!

Let’s list Hanako’s toxic behaviours:

Tricked a young girl into swallowing a mermaid scale so he could make her destroy yorishiro’s

Literally admits himself that he didn't plan to care about Nene and was just using her until he caught feelings

Heavily flirted with Nene until she became confused about his intentions, which resulted in her crying

Threatens to turn Nene into a fish when she doesn't bend to his will

Intentionally keeps Nene's lifespan a secret from her, and only reveals it to her after she confronts him about it

Tries to harm Nene's best friend twice! Despite knowing full well she would disapprove (for those who may not remember, along with literally trying to kill her in Nene's stead, Hanako attempts to drop a chandelier on Aoi to lure out the clock keeper he was hunting)

Hanako quite literally locks Nene away, against her own freewill, because he decided it was the best way to save her (despite how much she didn't want to stay there)

Becomes overly possessive and jealous about Nene, to the point that he doesn't even like the idea of anybody saving her life other than himself (there's so many examples I can give on Hanako's possessiveness alone, but just know it's a pretty toxic trait of his)

Constantly thinks he knows what's best for Nene and will act on that interest, never consulting her on anything even though it's about her

Refuses to entertain Nene's desire to die and stay with him, even Tsukasa says he was selfish for that one

Do I even need to mention chapter 71? The entire severance? How Hanako, after realising he wouldn't be able to make Nene forget, decides to try and make her full on hate him and acts cruel towards her Honestly I am certain I am forgetting things, but this is a list of Hanako's toxic behaviors from the top of my head. He isn't innocent by any means!! And sure, I admit Nene has flaws and that's okay, but if you're going to say she's toxic then I'm sorry but you have to include Hanako too because he's far worse. And btw this is just Hanako's toxic behaviors towards Nene, she actually gets off easy, because everyone else gets it far worse from him. Like? Tsukasa anyone?? Murdered younger brother who was abandoned for 2 decades?? The hypocrisy runs deep.

[waveridden]

okay I'll bite. what's the deal with the life series. what's the lore. what's your favorite thing about it. I wanna understand the Posts

huge win for the me community let's go. okay. idk your minecraft knowledge level so i am going to explain as though it's zero bc mine was basically zero when i started watching.

so. the life series (also known as 3rd life, bc that's the first season) is a minecraft survival multiplayer series, which essentially means it's a server where you can die. in fact, it is a death game! everyone on the server has three lives; if you die three times, you're out of the series. your goal is to be the last one standing. additionally, when you're down to your last life, you are expected and honor-bound to engage in pvp and ruin your alliances. your goal is Murder.

there are five seasons out right now with different gimmicks, each one has the same core cast with some changes - essentially it's a bunch of friends who will take any excuse to kill each other, but with increasingly weird and complex political factions and interpersonal dynamics. people are out here swearing fealty. there are betrayals. there are team banners. there's a season where they build a complex net of paths in the sky and drop tnt on one another.

it's one of those things where there is some lore/plot and you can take it as seriously or not-seriously as you want! yay! i for one love to go the "let's take this to its logical horrifying conclusion" route but some people are here for the sillies and that's good too. the fanart game is insane, people are making renaissance paintings and stuff.

anyways, this explanation is a mess, so i will go on to reccing povs, because there are ~15 people in each season and they're all posting videos and that can get overwhelming! there's not really a "right" order but when i started, @charaznablescanontoyota gave me the excellent advice of "start with the winner of each season and then whenever you're curious about something watch that next" - if you like that route and don't mind knowing who wins,

er4df444444444444 sorry that's my cat. he's been watching along with me. he has a lot of opinions.

anyways here's the list of winners, the wiki is a pretty good reference to have on hand. HOWEVER. i will also add that everyone has a different style! some people edit things very short, some people do long videos, some people are builders and some are very into the roleplay - i bounced pretty hard off the first pov i watched but switching to someone else worked for me, so in a way having so many options is great bc it means you can shop around, so to speak.

and i will close this out with a few of my personal favorite seasons! just for funsies.

inthelittlewood 3rd life (s1) - probably my personal fave. in which an early game alliance becomes an intensely charged king/knight relationship that they both take WAY too seriously (honorific)

smallishbeans last life (s2) - have you ever wanted to watch someone do a very, very bad job at murdering a lot of people?

pearlescentmoon double life (s3) - in a season where everyone has canonical soulmates, pearl ends up the odd woman out because her soulmate doesn't want to be with her. it is an insane and compelling character arc

ldshadowlady secret life (s5) - diversity win! this woman is so so bad at "what if minecraft were taskmaster"

and as a side note i tend to prefer the tightly edited stuff, so if you know that you Do Not prefer that, i would point you towards ethoslab secret life or grian 3rd life! or tbh still towards pearl double life.

[where-is-my-whump]

So I did a little something...for everyone who can't wait for the new Hudson & Rex episode.

(@hurt-comfort-cache @natk2002 @aceofwhump @somefandomcontent @nerdywalkingencyclopedia @whumpookies @gloriousharmonylover @cici-25 @cold-weather-means-cold-toes and a lot more)

May not be perfect but it's something.. I hope you'll enjoy it;)

a short whumpy fanfiction

A poisonous cut

John Sheppart a 35 year old male was jogging the same route along the beach like he does everyday. Today he noticed something in the water. At first John thought it's a tree that's floating in the water from last nights storm but at a second glance he realized that's it not a tree...it's a human body.

He just stood there...looking at the body. There was no movement. Slowly Sheppart takes one step after the other. The shorter the distance between him and the corpse gets the faster his heart beats. Just one step left. John's heart is nearly beating out of his chest. He really didn't wanted to do this but also couldn't move on like he hasn't seen anything.

Sheppart could have had a normal day but now he stands here looking at the back of a lifeless person. John hasn't any hope that he could do something for the person but still... he puts his hand at a slow pace on the body's shoulder and turns it around.

He flinshes back. Nearly falls over. He has to fight against the urge to throw up. Never in his whole life has he seen anything like this. It turns out he looked into the face of a dead women. Her skin was greasy and changed colors to a light blue. Her eyes are fully open. So is her mouth. Sheppart didn't even wanted to take a second look at her but something inside him had to.

For what he saw before finally throwing up the corpse doesn't show any signs of violence. No blood. No open wounds. He was sure that the women drowned. But is he right? That's someone's else's job to do.

What do you think?

Charlie and Sarah are standing next to the body. Well I'm not sure. For me right now it looks like she drowned but to be sure I need her in my lab.

Alright. Let me guess...no identification no nothing?

Sarah smirks a little bit. No. Would be to easy hm? Now Charlie is the one smiling. Call me if you find out anything. Hudson takes a few photos of the woman's face. I'll talk to Jesse. Maybe he can find out who this young lady is.

Yeah alright.

Soon after Charlie gets in his car and drives with Rex in the back away.

In the meantime the body gets transfered to the headquarter, so Sarah can examine her. It'll be shocking what's she's going to find out.

Charlie...I got something. Says Sarah on the phone.

Yeah me too. You go first.

Charlie she didn't drown. She was murdered.

Yeah well and I know who our victim is. Her name is Lydia West. Her boyfriend reported her missing two days ago.

Two days?!? She's probably dead since four days.

They both breath in and say: So we got a suspect.

Looks like it Yeah. Charlie smirks.

Oh and Sarah?

Yeah?

You said she was murdered? How did she die?

Well at first I noticed there wasn't any water in her lungs what means-

-Charlie interrupts her-

She was already dead when she fell in the water or before someone put her there.

Sarah has a look of surprise in her face.

Your getting good at this.

Charlie laughs.

Isn't this a part of my job? Sorry for interrupting you. Please continue.

With pleasure Mister Hudson. Also her blood results came positive for a deadly substance. The essence was probably injected through a small laceration on her skin. Like a broken glass that was dipped in the substance before. She wasn't able to breathe. The essence caused her lungs to collapse.

Oh God. Sounds painful.

It is. We need to find the person who did this.

Already on it. I'm on my way to her boyfriend right now.

Alright. Please be careful. Love you.

Love you too.

Charlie hanks up. Sarah still has her phone in her hands. She's so lucky to have Charlie as her boyfriend. He would never hurt her.

-Knock knock-

Charlie and Rex are standing infront of Lydias boyfriends home.

Hm.. Looks like no one's home.

Rex.

On command he sniffs around the house. Until a sudden noise appeared. Broken glass falling on the ground.

Charlie takes his gun out of the holster around his hips. He puts his hand on the doorhandle and pulls her down. To his surprise the door opened. With a light touch against the door he could see into the house. Everything was a mess. Pictures laying broken on the floor. He could see more clothes on the floor than parts of the wood flooring.

Hello? I'm Detective Charlie Hudson from the St. John's Police Department. I just wanna ask you some questions about your girlfri-

Someone attacked him from behind. You can hear wood braking apart. The suspect had a barstool in his hands and fought with it until he took out a sharp object. Charlie fought back as much as he could but Lydias boyfriend was faster. He cut Charlie directly in the inside of his elbow.

Hudsons knees couldn't hold him anymore. One foot after the other collapsed. He fell to the ground. Rex was locked out . The suspect closed the door so he needs to find a way in. In the meantime the suspect left through the door on the back.

Charlie lies there in pure panic, not able to do anything. Every breath he takes his lungs collapse more. He tries to pull out his mobile phone. After a few tries he did it. Charlie's not able to hold the phone. He coughs. Pressing his eyelids together in distress. Finally he did it. Sarah's name appears on the display.

Heeeyyy Charlie. What's up?

Charlie can't talk, nearly can't breath nore move. He just gasps for air.

Charlie? Is everything OK?

He tries to say something. His lips are moving...S...a...r...a...h. But Sarah can't hear it. She just hears Rex his barking and noices she can't identify.

She notices somethings not right.

Charlie, honey, I'm coming. Ok. I'm coming. I have your location on my phone. Oh God. I'm coming.

JESSE call an ambulance. Somethings wrong with Charlie. I'm sending you the adress!!!

She didn't even look at him. Sarah just had one thing in her head.

Charlie is still on the line but he lost his consciousness.

Charlie? Can you hear me? Charlie say something pls. Sarah's crying. She can't loose him. Everything was perfect. They made their partnership official, told everyone. They even talked about a marriage. But not about someone dying.

I'm coming. I'm coming.

Rex finally found a way in and lays next to Charlie. He licks Hudsons face.

Just a few seconds later Sarah arrived. She jumped against the door. She nearly flew out of the wall.

Omg. Charlie!

She knees down. Searches for a pulse. Nothing. Her forensic instincts kicked in and noticed the cut on Charlie's arm. It has to be what she was thinking. The same substance that killed Lydia.

She rushed back to her car and got her emergency drug kit. This includes the antidote that Charlie needs.

Just hold on. One second.

She handles the kit like she didn't do anything else in her life. After she filled the syringe, she injected Charlie the antidote. At the same time the paramedics arrive.

Come on Charlie...breath, breath.

Tears are forming around Sarahs eyes.

Nothing.

The paramedics are walking over to Sarah. She tells them what happend.

Alright. We need to inturbate. Please step aside.

Sarah listens to the paramedics. She knows they will do what's right.

Empty packages of medical supplies lay everywhere.

The tubus was placed. One paramedic started with the cpr, the other one pumped air in Charlies lungs.

...29...30... checking pulse

Sarah pushes herself against the wall. Surrounding her legs with her arms. Tears falling on her jeans. Little dark spots appear. She wispers Charlie, come on. Don't leave me alone. Come on breath.

28...29...30 I got a pulse!

The worst minutes in her life finally ended.

Thank god.

She stands up and walks over to the still unconscious Charlie. Sarah strokes his forehead gently.

The paramedics transfer Charlie on a stretcher. We're bringing him to the hospital. You can ride with us but the dog needs to stay here.

A look of disappointment builds up in Sarahs face.

It's ok, you can go. I'll bring Rex back to the station.

Sarah turns around. Oh Jesse. Thank you.

Jesses standing in the doorframe. He just arrived.

Sarah hugs him and follows the paramedics to the ambulance. She sits down next to Charlie, continues to gently pet over his head and says...Everythings gonna be okay...I'm here. The doors closed and the ambulance drove away.

I chose an open end so you can move on with your little imagination until we see what's really about to happen hehe

[yallemagne]

You are right turning Dracula into The Lover is so danm needless!

-"Oh we need vampire/human romance with the vampire's tragic end!" Why make a convoluted romance with Drac and Mina? The book has served you what you seek on a silver platter. All you need to do is fill in the gaps of the epistolary novel to play with. Flesh out Lucy and Arthur and how they got closer. Keep Lucy as she is to make me cry for her doom. Dracula dying makes me go oh no. A rapist serial killer just died. Tragique.

-Want a vampire/human pair where the human chooses to walk with the vampire into eternal twilight? Let Jonathan complete his blasphemous vow. Actually focus on his trauma and how much he feared and hated vampires and how he chose certain death over vampirism, to give to his oath the gravity it deserves.

-Oh and want to also do "the vampire is suffering from being cursed by their God"? Mina is right here. "I was betrayed. Look what your God has done to me" whines 1992 Dracula, motherfucker you started it! Mina didn't! And look what He did to her brow! She who always walked the path of righteousness. She was betrayed. She is the forsaken sinner you want!

Sorry for the essay oh gosh

Literally.

Instead of rushing Lucy's death so they can get to their fake ass romance, adaptations could just,,, make Lucy's death its own story. Draw it out! Have Bloofer Lucy be more lucid and have her beckoning to Arthur be in earnest. And in this case, the trope of the vampire realizing at the last second that murder is wrong and begging their lover to put them out of their misery is less convoluted because Lucy knew that murder was wrong when she was human and Dracula certainly fucking didn't, not if we're going with the stupid Vlad the Impaler route. Lucy had an inherent goodness that was robbed from her in death and Dracula was always a cunt even when they try to rewrite him to be sympathetic.

I'm seconds away from just writing a story where Dracula's death doesn't cleanse Mina of her vampirism and Jonathan goes down with her, I swear. But my artist brain keeps saying I gotta design their vampire selves first aaagh. You can also just have Lucy take a big bite out of Arthur without being hampered by VH. It might be anticlimactic, but hey, I wanna see at least one fanfic where it happens. There's only ever fanart.

Like the whole "God fucked up my life" thing is whatever. Supposedly human Dracula (who is always goddamn Vlad Tepes for no good reason) had a wife who died and decided to make that everyone else's problem. I fucking doubt this ol' thirteenth-century bitch saw his wives as anything more than property. You know who doesn't see their spouse as property? You know who would actually grieve their spouse's death? You want the tragic vampire grieving their dead spouse?? MINA HARKER IS RIGHT THERE. Maybe Jonathan dies and Mina just fucking goes feral because that was the last damn straw and now she's going to murder God.

Your essay is appreciated, I was just vibing.

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Loser Round 6: Maria Ushiromiya (Umineko: When They Cry) vs. Ken Amada (Persona 3)

Propaganda below the cut:

Maria Ushiromiya (9):

She's really obsessed with occult and witch stuff and acts inappropriately when her family gets murdered because she was told by the culprit that everyone was going to the Golden Land (a super special witch afterlife where you get whatever you want). She also has meltdowns like any autistic child. Because of this, some Umineko fans say that she deserves to get abused by her mother.

----

People really do be saying that this literal nine year old who's been abused and neglected by her mom for her whole life is evil

----

Some people in the Umineko fandom have decided that she's annoying because she's a 9 year old with autism. Personally I think she's based. She has a hard life but still tries her hardest to see the goodness in everything. She's kind, even feeling sorry for a wilting flower and hoping it'll get better. She's a very smart young girl who just isn't given the proper love a child needs from their parents to thrive. She deserved SO, SO much better than the cards life dealt her. I mustn't talk too much else I'll get emotional but Maria is peak.Best autistic witch girl.

Ken Amada (11):

y'all are all for "murder and revenge plots" until is a 10 y/o boy who watched his mother die and started to become conflicted after realizing his moms killer is a secretly kind traumatized teenager to the point where the 10 y/o boy attempts to kill himself by giving himself up to assassins.

bro he's 10.

----

ken amada is such an interesting character with the unfortunate circumstances of having little screentime and atlus deciding to ruin his reputation forever by giving him a romance choice in the fem protag route. ken is a child who lost his mother at NINE. nobody ever believed him when he said that she was murdered, and that he saw who killed her. hes miserable, and all everyone around him does is give him sympathy while hes suffering and was forced to grow up before even going into middle school. hes angry and determined to get revenge on the person who killed his mother, and he doesnt even see the own value in living anymore beyond getting that revenge. hes more mature than most of his peers, and is desperate to be seen as an adult.but at the same time, he is still a child who likes superhero shows.

----

OH GOD WHERE DO I START

First there's the normal "The fandom hates kids" complaints of "He's so whiny" "he's so annoying" "oh my god kid just SHUT UP" y'know, the typical fandom stuff that makes you wonder if these people have ever talked to a child in their life

Second, there's (spoilers)...

October 4th, and the ENTIRE FANDOM is calling this kid a murderer.

For context, the moment in question doesn't necessarily paint him in the best light but its still understandable. Your team is going on a mission while Ken and another character named Shinjiro are away. In an alleyway, they have a talk where it is revealed that on that night a year priar to the game, Kens mom was killed in that allleyway by Shinjiro's Persona (Which, by the Rules of the Game Lore, basically means By Shinjiro). Ken tried to tell the authorities, the authorities didn't believe him because Magic Reasons and the death was ruled an accident.

Of course Ken is Fucking Pissed and wants revenge

However, because of Talk, he ACTIVELY CALMS DOWN, and realises "Hey, I probably shouldn't kill someone. Despite them, y'know, killing my mom"

HOWEVER REVOLVER JESUS COMES IN AND RUINS EVERYTHING BY SHOOTING SHINJIRO. AND LIKE, IF YOU PLAY P3P YOU CAN /AVOID THE DEATH THING/

AND EVERYONE BLAMES /KEN/. AND ONLY KEN.

And third (yes, there's a THIRD) IS THE FUCKING FEMC ROMANCE THING. WHICH JUST...SHOULDN'T HAVE EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. BUT NOW HE'S "SHOTA BAIT" BECAUSE WE HAVE TO BLAME THE CHILD FOR THE AUTHORITY FIGURE COMING ONTO THEM 😒

[guiltygearconfessions]

i think more people should be nice to dr. baldhead. it makes me sad when people are cruel to him, either outwardly on purpose or even through perhaps unintentional routes such as calling him evil or intentionally cruel or things like that. we can't let pre-strive faust's self hate depersonalization complex win.

its a bit of a complex thing i get that. like im not going to argue against the fact that he killed people. he did that. but he was also consistently starved and left alone in a sensory deprivation nightmare presumably only shortly after having his entire life and the complex that he balanced his identity on upended. and that upheaval itself happened relatively shortly after the crusades ended. its less just being framed for murder and more being framed as impersonating yourself. the messiah figure everyone loved wouldn't have this blood on his hands, wouldn't have failed (though equally, not everyone loved this messiah figure; he was clearly hated enough for a coworker to sell him out and collaborate on the assassination attempt, right?).

faust idolizes the pre-baldhead part of his life besides the misery and relentlessly demonizes the in-between. maybe i am just a little soft hearted, but it makes me happy when people pay a little niceness to dr baldhead. mostly because i get to imagine faust reconciling with the compartmentalized idea of baldhead that exists to him.

sorry for meandering im going to go to bed now. dr baldhead warm meal and a bed to sleep in beam.

-

[sparingiscaring]

Continuing from my previous tags, a thing I've wondered about Light Fingers (at least since finishing it) is, why do we never actually experience one of the major horrors of the Ambition ourselves? Like, okay, Starved Men, we go there and have a bad time, Clara is having so much body horror, Hephaesta and the Zee, Edward is staking us, the Orphanage is... yeah, and A Bat Wants to Roofie The City, sure that's a Bad Time, but it feels like we missed out on Actually experiencing what is at the core of this story!!! OBSESSION.

I wish we had gotten Moon-Milked! I think we are the only ones in the story (Aside from Frank n Jasper) who don't experience it! Like, I'm sorry, you're telling me EVERYONE HERE either is or has gone through one of the most intense horror things ever, an obsessive love that is driving you almost to madness, and you DON'T GET TO?! Not even for a BIT?! It feels like it should be there! You should have had it happen!

It could be at Vaughan's Island. Think of it. THE BOTH OF YOU. THE SYMBOLISM. Obtaining Lethean Tea Leaves (It's Light Fingers, you could probably steal some with a high shadowy challenge, make it a Heist if ya want) is how you opt out! Opting out is your Current Route - you don't get the letters full text, you get to act horrified at Poor Edward's... yeah, unchanged. But if you don't, you have to read what he sends. You're compelled to. The game can tell you in Bold, after it happens. "Find a Remedy, or else your Obsession will Grow".

You have the option to burn the letters, but even when you click it, the narrative, the Obsession, makes you read them, makes you keep them, makes you keep the boxes and the letters and everything else he sends you. Just changing the framing, changing it so your every no is changed by the Moon-Milk into a yes, because you are NOT in control of your own Self, when it comes to this. Nothing else is changes - but when it comes to the Object of your Obsession, you just cannot be in complete control of yourself.

And if the first time control is taken is too much, you could just be reminded again. And that option to Undo This is there, you just have to opt out. You get the Biggest Part of the Horror tied even more to your character, and you as the player have to deal with the loss of control of your Self, of that certainty that your choice was your own, and the building unease that, in the following sections, you cannot even trust your own Player to obey you, when it comes to this ambition.

Or, piggybacking off of @thedeafprophet's 'PC Gets Kidnapped' idea, it could easily come into play there, in a much smaller role. You're subjected to it, then, if you don't hold out, and you see the world as your saviors (puts a blanket over Jasper and Frank's heads) did in Clara's case, and still do, in Hephaesta's. You get to experience the need and the pull and the obsession yourself! The parallels of how you freed Clara from her's, to her freeing you now! They physically get you out of there, and then Vaughan mentally gets you out of there, helping you cure/repress the after effects.

You never marry Poor Edward, he's whimpering pathetically in the Nightmare Orphanage, or Murderized in the Nightmare Orphanage, but you can chose between cure and repress. No Edward Card, sealing him away in that place, or leaving open a door in your subconscious, come the next Nightmare card.

I don't know how to end this. I just feel like we should have had the chance to subject ourselves to The Horror of this Ambition, because stopping this from happening to everyone is really the story of Light Fingers. It's one thing to see it in somebody else - I wish we could have seen it ourselves, and had the chance to see just how horrifying it really is.