#anyway the feds searched the place and it scared her away

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OK RUIN DLC AVAILABLE!! Can I make a request then? How do Ruin glam.freddy, Ruin glam.chica, Ruin Monty, and Ruin Roxy react to an overwhelmed reader? Too much is happening to Child Reader and he ends up crying or bursting with rage. How would they react to the reader? (sorry for my english 😅)

Oh don't worry! Your english is good! (for this, we'll just say reader takes Cassie's place)

.........

Prototype/Ruined Freddy

All you wanted to do was find your friend, and you thought you'd find an ally in your quest when you discovered Freddy in the decrepit Fazer Blaster room.

But something was very wrong as he emerged from the wreckage, joints clicking and parts shuffling before he finally turns to screech at you with great hostility.

Not with his mouth, as he lacked a head, but with his birthday cake hatch that acted like a gaping monstrous maw.

He hunted you down like a wild animal, chasing you until you managed to reach the next inhibitor-

Only for Freddy to be there first, cornering you at last and almost daring you to come closer.

But you were so terrified, so stressed that...you just hid somewhere and cried, not caring what happens to you anymore. "I-I'm sorry, Gregory..I can't do this. I'm too scared and I don't know where I'm going!!"

It's in that moment where Freddy briefly snaps out of the M.X.E.S programming controlling him.

He may have been a prototype, but he did have similar directives to his successor--that being to ensure the safety and happiness of all children who visited. That was his priority.

He follows your cries, and instead of attacking, he offers you the green present in his chest to cheer you up.

You worried it was some trick, but you take it anyways, finding a scratched-up Freddy magnet inside, barely recognizable aside from the shape.

Relieved, you smile and pocket the gift, wiping away your tears. "Th-Thanks, Freddy.."

He stands back up, only for the M.X.E.S to take ahold of him again.

While he's fighting back against it, you duck under him and turn off the inhibitor before making your escape, not looking back once even as he storms after you.

At least you knew he wasn't doing this on purpose.

Ruined Chica

If you weren't already overwhelmed enough by everything happening within the ruined mall...Chica's shattered voicebox was the icing on top.

The noises hurt your ears so, so much..and suddenly you became terrified of every creaking or grating metal sound, always thinking it's her.

Staying on your toes was important, of course, though it was getting to be too much for you to bear.

When she's hunting you down in one of the kitchens, you're so stressed that you end up hiding and covering your ears, trying not to cry as the noises continued.

Before they...abruptly stopped, as she's now aware that her voice simply wasn't going to come back.

But in that moment, she heard your sniffle and immediately found your hiding spot.

You think you're doomed until she sees you covering your ears still, and despite her eyes being out of sorts..

They looked quite guilty.

The M.X.E.S has no control over her at the moment, so she spares you and leaves.

At some point later on you find her original voice box, seeking her out and repairing her to the best of your ability.

"I smell pizza!!" She trills, before the reality sets in that she has her voice back at last!

And it's a brief moment of happiness for her before she shuts down, seeing you by her side as her vision goes dark.

While doing this didn't make you any less stressed about your search for your friend...you felt better knowing you helped her.

Ruined Roxy

She wasn't targeting you because of the M.X.E.S, but rather because she assumed you were Gregory, threatening to tear out your eyes and make them hers.

However she decided to stalk you at a very bad time, as you began shouting and throwing stuff at her after getting so fed-up with coming to dead ends and Helpi's irritating voice.

The first thing was a plushie, which isn't super effective in hurting her, but the sudden impact startled her nevertheless.

Then you began pelting whatever you could find on the ground. Soda cans, crumbled papers, etc. even as she apologized over and over, shielding herself.

"K-Kid, I'm sorry..!!"

"I'm not afraid you anymore!! LEAVE ME ALONE, FREAK!!"

Suddenly, she freezes up, sniffling before she touches her face self-consciously.

"Th-That's right..I'm...I-I'm a freak...I'm a hideous freak!!" She wails, ultimately collapsing to the ground crying.

You stop, realizing the (emotional) damage you've done and....feeling guilty when you see her sobbing.

You honestly thought she was mindless like all the others...and yet..part of her old personality remained, notably the "insecure" part of it.

Keeping the mask clipped to your side (as you didn't wanna see her through some green hologram), you approach and kneel down, awkwardly trying to comfort her.

"Roxy? I-I...I didn't mean to call you that. I'm sorry." You frown. "You're not a freak, you're still..um...p-pretty. I..I've just been angry and I took it out on you...because you keep thinking I'm Gregory."

She's surprised to hear that you aren't actually him, but is still hurt by the insult.

You stay with her for a bit, reminding her of the mantras she used to tell herself back then, and she begins to repeat them with a smile on her face.

"Your tail is beautiful, your hair is beautiful..and everyone loves you."

"My tail...is beautiful. My hair is..beautiful...and everyone loves me.."

"Yeah, that's good!"

Ruined Monty

He used to be the coolest character to you.

But now? He was nothing like his former self. Just a mindless beast crawling around and trying to bite your legs off.

It was sad, in a way.

Yet you've been attacked by him nonstop ever since you got that stupid mask.

He didn't just scare you, though.

If anything...you got angry right back at him, shouting at him to go away and/or throwing whatever you could to keep him off your back.

Somehow he keep finding you. It's like he had some personal vendetta against you and was powered by rage alone.

In Gator Golf, you found a golf club that wasn't broken, deciding to keep it with you should you ever need to defend yourself.

He was an alligator, yet it somehow shocked you when you're trying to reach the next conduit to unlock a door....and discover that he can swim.

You were stuck traversing boxes like you were playing "the floor is lava"...except the lava is Monty, of course.

When you finally unlock the door, he roars and makes a desperate grab for your leg, and would have succeeded in dragging you into the electrified water...

Had you not used the club to break his hand and chip some of his teeth.

It seemed to bring him genuine pain....but you didn't care.

"Sorry, Monty...BUT I'M NOT YOUR DINNER!!!" You shout as you knock him back into the water, watching him fry.

Part of you felt guilty for doing that once you calmed down and got to safely, but what else could you do?

He was too far gone to help. You had to put him out of his misery.

[richardazer]

Anyway no one except Ravi wanted to talk to me about what kind of bugs the boys would be

So tumblr gets this because I sad

Brainworms with HK lore for nerds like me below + a silly ship sketch

So a bit of lore, technically the setting is in the middle of HK playthru yk?? But it's also on its own kinda?

The hive is opened after many years, there's a lot of commotion and infection and obviously the king is no more sooooo

3 pretty pale siblings come through the world searching for followers, all three are wyrms but they take on forms of different bugs

Ianite is a mantis

Mianite is a wyrm (kings mold kinda build?)

Dianite is a moth (Grimm type heho)

Sparklez the mighty ant

Born and raised in the city of tears (don't ask me where the rest of the ants are, we're all waiting for silksong lol)

He wanted to become a city guard but did not make the cut because of his size and species, seeking to become worthy he travels outside the city later to train with the nail masters and meeting Ianite and the Mantis Lords.

His charms are Nailmaster's Glory (for obvious reasons) and Mark of Pride given by the Mantis Lords. + unbreakable strength

He spends most of his time in the Colosseum of Fools and has become a valuable champion

The deepnest pretty boy aka Peter 'za' hhutt

He's the Midwife's precious son, he gets his hunger from her. Pete found the Wayward Compass charm and quickly became an expert in the maze that is Deepnest making him the most dangerous predator. He has never left the nest, didn't need to. Bugs would come wandering in, traitors and weaklings would be thrown in by the Mantis Lords. Plenty of delicious food keeping him fed and sane.

The other charms he's given by Sparklez when they meet. Sparklez loves exploring, taking on any battle he can. Pete puts up a great fight. The spider isn't used to pray fighting back so vigorously so he lets Sparklez go. Meeting a worthy opponent Sparklez offers companionship since the deepnest is a tough place to traverse.

Quick Slash and Dashmaster made Pete more of a beast but he's no longer fueled by hunger because Sparklez consistently brings him dead bugs from the coliseum fights to feed Pete.

Fuzzy bee X33n

He's just a Hivelink, some of them patrol outside the hive but Xeen never been outside. After the hive was forced to interact with an outsider X33n musters up the courage to go explore. He missed his exit at the Ancient Basin because the infected bugs there scared him. But the first time he goes to explore he ends up in Deepnest.

Poor bee gets chased by a hungry spider and ends up running into an armored ant hehoo

Sparklez saves X33n from hungry Pete and they sit down to talk about the hive and how a bee got lost so far away from home

X33n's charms are Hiveblood (obviously, he's a bee it comes with the Xbox!) Thorns of Agony and Heavy Blow to help him against the infected bugs

The ship silly for anyone who is nerd enough to read through all this

"fed a stray cat now he loves me" VS "how can I NOT want to eat him he's so plump and fuzzy!!"

[craftycheetah]

The crisp spring night air coursed through you from the open window as you finished feeding the cats. “Goodnight, you precious little fur babies. I’ll be back tomorrow. Sleep well,” you smile, turning off the cafe lights, closing the window, making sure everything was packed away, and the register was locked.

Closing the front door, you placed your copy of the store keys in your pocket and stretched before searching in your bag for your phone and headphones.

Hitoshi pulled up about half a block away from the cafe with a small box in hand, hoping to catch the store before closing. Shit, she’s about to leave. Maybe I can ask her for help. He noticed the braided down puff of hair and your casual wear when he walked up to you. Fiddling with the large box containing a sick kitten he found not too far away from the cafe, he walked up to you attempting to get your attention.

Feeling something press into your back, you stiffened when you slowly turned around and saw the man you recognized as the biker who ordered, during your shift a couple days ago, walking up to you with a large box.

“Um, excuse me? Are y—AH!” he starts before shouting as you interrupt him.

As quickly as possible, you grabbed your can of pepper spray and sprayed it in his face in self-defense.

“What was that for?!” he shouts, shielding his now severely irritated eyes.

“You strolled up to me, pushed something into my back, and expected not to get hurt in some way?! Ugh, typical bikers, airheaded brutes,” you groan. You get ready to berate him, only to stop when you hear a weak meow come from the box he once held. “What was that?”

“I was trying to tell you I found a kitten in a box and was wondering if you could help me, but now I can’t fucking see, so thanks for that!”

“I am so sorry! Let me take the kitten inside then I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“You owe me anyways. God, I can’t see!”

“That’s for scaring the shit out of me and for your little gang of rough riders scaring the poor cafe residents.”

Unlocking the cafe door, you turn on the lights and spend the next hour cleaning up and feeding the poor kitten. After putting them in an incubator, you re-pet all the cats goodbye again, repeat your earlier shutdown routine, lock the door, and pull down the fencing. “Let’s get you to the hospital…uh, what’s your name?”

“Shinsou.”

“Right,” you sigh. “To the hospital.”

Hitoshi felt around for your hand before holding it, “Lead the way.”

Purr Like An Engine pt.3

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»Summary: Bikers weren’t necessarily a problem in your city, but to you, they were like the bubonic plague. After running into one of them, you had to ask yourself, are bikers really that much of a nuisance?

Ghost readers don’t get fed!

Taglist: @endeavours-jockstrap @milkmademozzarella @mxonigirimiya @kurocantcommunicate @minninugget @readergurl20 @kingsheir

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© craftycheetah: all rights reserved. Do not edit, modify, repost, or claim my works as your own. Reblogs are appreciated.

[puredramione]

My 2020 Reading List - Dramione

This year, I’ve read way more dramione than I’ve ever read, and I’ve been reading it for 7 years now. I even read things, tropes, I had never bothered with before. 2020 may not have been a kind year, but in the dramione community it has been a wonderful year of reading for me. Please be aware I may spoil some plot lines to dramione fanfictions you haven’t read yet. I have tried not to as best as I can. But anyway below is 20 fics I’ve read this year that have been there for me when I needed them. No particular order. Just a lot of love for these fics.

Wait and Hope - by @mightbewriting - memory loss is one of my favourite tropes but this story. I have never cried over a couch before. But this story. From the moment she first awakes in St Mungo’s to that beautiful ending, I was hooked. I loved how the story left me with not really a care about whether or not Hermione got her memories back. Those bloody text messages 💔 a journey I’ll never forget.

The Unofficial Diary of an Omega - MrsRen - my first time reading anything omegaverse. It still isn’t my favourite trope. I much prefer Veela for some reason 🤷🏻‍♀️ but overall it was a good story, just not my thing.

Apple Pies and Other Amends by ToEatAPeach - I actually gave up on this story the first time I read it. Unsure as to why because the story as a whole is just amazing. Baking and dramione? Yes please! Also dealing with their psychological trauma after the war? Heck yes! The relationship in this story develops at a lovely pace. There were moments I was on edge, others I was smiling ear to ear whilst reading this. Definitely one of my favourites now.

In Search Of Sunrise - @indreamsink - actually just reread this and I still get that warm feeling in my chest. So turns out my break up hasn’t made me lose the ability to enjoy dramione falling for each other. Anyway, the story was so heartwarming, like if I were to describe it as anything I would describe it as a hug. The best non-date fic there is.

Sex and Occlumency - Graendoll - this was the start of my slippery slope into reading smut stories. Like I had read smut before, obviously but I didn’t pay it much attention, normally just swiped past 😂 but this one was a completely different story.

Manacled - @senlinyu - this is truly the most beautifully haunting story I’ve ever read. I remember when I first started reading it, I thought to myself, how the hell could I ever ship dramione in this world? Then those flashbacks. Fuck those flashback chapters were a punch in the gut. The way everything links and connects. I love it’s realistic ending. I often think of this story in the shower cause I had to force myself to go shower whilst I read this cause I honestly couldn’t put it down. And SPOILER, but I laughed so hard at a certain characters death even though I probably shouldn’t have but she was such a bitch. I get flashbacks myself of this story. I’ll be in the shower and I’ll remember a certain sentence, a certain scene in my head as if I truly walked with Hermione on this heart wrenching journey. But fuck manacled Harry, I hate that boy.

He Becomes by @abromaposts - I needed this story. This was the first thing I read after Manacled. Draco Malfoy looking after rabbits with the sole reason being to get close to Hermione, yes please. Rabbits are my favourite animals. It’s just so much fluff. And after Manacled I was grateful.

The Right Thing To Do - @lovesbitca8 - this was the bookshop, slow burn, fluffiness I needed in the summer. The start of a truly wonderful universe. Idiots in love, I’ve never went through so much second hand embarrassment. Every interaction between Hermione and Lucius was fantastic. Especially the final one! Every character was written to a way that I loved them so much. Plus this story makes you think (like the rest of the series) it doesn’t spoon fed you information.

All The Wrong Things - @lovesbitca8 - I never thought I’d be into first person POV. The last thing I read like that was The Hunger Games back in school, many years ago. But I truly felt as if Draco were telling me the story. I love how it filled in things we never seen in the first story. I love Draco’s characterisation. Unlike TRTTD, this feels more lighthearted. Could just be the horny Draco though and his dramatics?

The Auction - @lovesbitca8 - this story. where do I start? When I started reading this story I was in a completely different life. This story has seen me through a terrible time in my life. Honestly the last few chapters before the final chapter were a blur and I had to go and reread them cause my head was all over the place but the story. This story, on it’s own, I would say is better than any fiction I’ve ever read 🤷🏻‍♀️ it grips you, pulls you in. Every question you ask, you get answered with a ribbon and bow. I cannot express my love, for this story and for the hard work that has went into it. The characters in this world so vastly different yet similar to the ones we already learned to love. I could write a love letter to this story.

Hindsight by @floorcoaster - if you haven’t been following this year long, monthly updated story, then you’ve really missed out. Each chapter is a month of the year. The story starts with Hermione planning to trim down her calendar for the year ahead. Although it’s fiction it gave me a sense of hope for my future. I had started this year on a different note than Hermione, and I’m now ending it on a different note as well. I think this story does a good job of capturing the passage of time and just how quickly things can change. I also really love these adorable idiots in this story.

Bring Him To His Knees by @willhavetheirtrinkets (WIP) - the best co-worker, friends to lovers, fake relationship story I’ve read. No question. I sent @magicaltraveler3 a tearful voice memo after that last chapter that was posted (chapter 20). It isn’t the first time I’ve cried at a fanfic, but it is the first time that I predicted something bad would happen, but I didn’t expect the bad thing to be what it was. I can’t wait to see where this story goes. At this point I have completely forgot about the murder plot. I know it exists, and we’ll get back to the murder but I’d honestly read the characters in this story eating breakfast.

The Flat In Bath by @adaprix (WIP) - this was the first story I got into that ada has wrote. Instantly I was fascinated with the use of “flat” over “apartment”. Being Scottish I knew this was someone British. Anyway, a very interesting story and I can’t wait to see how the rest of it plays out.

Good by @lovesbitca8 - I am dying for the update of this story. As so many are, it is 🔥🔥🔥 all I can say. I can’t wait for the update!

The Erised Effect by @adaprix - When ada first told me she was thinking about writing a story about Pansy and Hermione working in a sex shop together. Telling me about having the idea of them meeting in the pub and how she “needed to get some filthy smut out of your system”. I didn’t think it would be my thing. Boy, did she prove me wrong!

The Cell by WrathOfMacy - I don’t know how I came to read this one. But damn, this was a good one (who am I kidding they’re all good ones). I’m still reading through it though. It’s a warfic in which Dramione end up locked in a cell together. The relationship builds nicely. I cannot wait to read more of it.

The Melody Of Touch by @magicaltraveler3 - I never knew I needed a dramione story like this story. I love that there is so much musical imagery incorporated into it. I haven’t read anything like it before. The story, the smut, the taxi and the freaking art work. It is everything!

Every Day, a Little Death by @lovesbitca8 - I’ll be honest with this one. I read the first chapter and the last chapter 🙈 BUT only cause everyone scared me so much. I plan to revisit. SPOILER. I may not care too much that Hermione cheated. Just me? Like yeah I hate cheating and she shouldn’t have done it, but like she admitted to it, and was very regretful for it. Anyway, the chapters I read were very interesting I look forward to revisiting it sometime.

Away by @indreamsink - written for the romcom fest and I got to say I think this one may be my favourite from the fest. Not only do you get dramione but you get the amazing side pairing of Harry/Pansy, which this year has really became my favourite side pairing. It’s like reading two love stories at once, I was interested in the dramione plot line obviously, but I was equally interested in the hansy/potts&pans plot line.

The Path Unexpected by @magicaltraveler3 - this story is a cute little domestic dramione fanfic. And I lived for it. It shows dramione going through the process of having a child and honestly, they’re so damn cute in this fic. The fanart is next level also!

[taechaos]

A Night of Discovery

pairing: hybrid!Taehyung x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere au, smut

synopsis: For a learning trip, a seemingly innocent fox has taught you to never trust a predator in one day.

warnings: noncon, mention of murder, sadism

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok so i may have made a moodboard to make up for how bad this is, SUE ME 😭 the request (spoiler warning)

The road is bumpy as the bus navigates through the looming forest, endless pine trees passing by your eyes in a blur. Chatters swirl in the fresh cold air, windows slightly cracked open as you try to sleep for the nth time with your head leaning against the smudged glass. You jolt awake each time, and it’s been two hours since your first attempt because of the reckless driver in the front. You’re clutching your backpack in your lap as you fantasize about the summer, your upcoming graduation.

Being in your final year of high school, the stress has been eating at you, but your biology teacher had the sheer niceness to give her students a break by taking you on a field trip to a marine zoo. It’s related to your syllabus, studying about marine ecology and all, and you were given the freedom to choose an aquatic animal of your choice to make a project on. You aren’t the least bit excited, because the zoo is so huge that your parents had to pay for the night you have to spend in a motel. Walking for hours and searching for one interesting fish is not at all thrilling.

Your body lurches forward when the driver abruptly hits the brakes. You take out your earphones as everyone stands up. The bus doors open with a hiss from the rush of air as students step outside one by one. You are sluggish when you hop on the cement, and the zoo is huge in front of you. The glass panels complement the surrounding greens, and you can catch the crashes of the waves from the shore behind. You can’t see it, and the environment is rather lonely except for the building close by: the motel next to the zoo.

Ms. Kang is directing your classmates to the motel first, and you’re about to follow before you stumble on your shoelaces. You crouch down to tie them, and when your teacher looks back, you say, “I’ll be there in a second!” When they’re inside, you decide to stretch your limbs after sitting in a stiff chair for so long. You walk to the woods by the parking lot, curious about the sights under the grey clouds. The weather is rather gloomy, and it doesn’t exactly help you feel better until you step on the grass ahead of the road. You sling your backpack over your shoulders and start touching the tree trunks out of boredom. It isn't entertaining, but it's relaxing.

A distant growl snaps you out of your sightseeing and you search around with your eyes for the source. The sound is very peculiar, and it has you feeling slightly nervous but undoubtedly curious.

You aim to take a step forward until your name is hollered, and you yell, “I’m here!” You hear hasty footsteps until Jimin appears next to you.

“Ms. Kang is asking for you. It’s your turn to check in,” he informs and you’re about to reply until you hear another growl. It’s louder compared to the previous one, and the both of you look into the forest in fright. It’s drawn out, but it gradually grows quiet. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you furrow your brows a little anxiously and eventually enter the building with Jimin.

After everyone settled into their rooms, ate in the café provided by the zoo, the real trip began. You have to admit, the aquarium is gorgeous. The blue light reflecting from the water is easy on the eyes, and you’re fawning over all the swimming fish in admiration. There is a guide with you, and you listen to any information that is related to your favorite animals so far. You note down the names as a requirement from the teacher, and research some on your phone throughout your exploration. It’s actually interesting in the beginning, but you do get somewhat bored when a few hours pass. It’s 7PM when the tour ends for the day, and the rest of your time is leisure. 

You’re allowed back in your rooms for the evening, and you rest on the comfortable bed to gain back some of your energy. You’re more interested in the forest just outside, and you take out a box of fruits from your bag before leaving the motel. It’s dark when you munch on a sliced green apple while eyeing the forest. The lights from the motel sign help with your vision and you’re just standing on the empty lot while twirling around absentmindedly. It’s not like you’re close enough with anyone to hang out with them at this time, but it allows you to appreciate the breeze more. You’re wearing a cardigan to keep you warm, and you’re enjoying your time until you hear a whimper. 

You stop in your tracks before inching closer to the sound. It’s pained, or at least you think it is, and you take out your phone to shine a flashlight at the eerie forest. More whimpers resound in your ears, and you timidly trudge into the darkness. You yelp when you feel something soft lightly graze your calves, and jump away before seeing it: it’s the tail of a red fox. You gasp in slight fear because you don’t know if you trespassed or are in danger. The fox stares at you, and you stare back until it quietly whines again. “Awww,” you unintentionally coo. You’re scared when it wraps its fluffy tail around you, but you’re not so intimidated when it starts snuggling into your legs. You crouch to level with it and hesitantly bring your fingers to its head. Its fur is so soft that you wonder if it has been tamed.

“You’re so cute,” you gush in a whisper when it leans into your hand. You retract your hand and take out a blueberry from your container and feed it to the fox. Your heart warms just by watching it chew, and you give it some more. This encounter might be the best part about this trip, because the animal is just so adorable. You want to cry from how overwhelmingly precious and pure it seems with its adoring gaze. You’re grinning brightly as you eat with it, sharing your only snack for this whole expedition. 

You entertain yourself with it for a little while before deciding to go back. You ignore its protests guiltily and bid farewell, “I’ll see you again, cutie.” It’s already been an hour and your legs ache from bending for so long. You know you shouldn’t be out too late, and as you retrace your steps back to the motel, you hear it run off deep into the woods. 

The night is spent tossing and turning in bed because you wanted to sleep early in order to function at 8AM the next morning, but you can’t force it. Surfing through the media or keeping your eyes closed for 15 minutes straight didn’t help in the slightest, and somehow your energy has been increasing instead. The window adjacent to the mattress glares at you with its beauty of the crowd of unsaturated trees. You didn’t bother pulling the curtains because it’s a pleasant view, and the stars that you rarely see in the city shine brightly in the countryside. You think back to your interaction with the fox, and a smile creeps up on your tired face. You want to see it again.

Putting your shirt back on, you’re adjusting your cardigan when you crack open the door of your room. No one’s roaming in the halls, as expected since it’s midnight, but you try to be mindful of your temporary neighbours as you sneakily exit the building. You turn to your left instantly to scurry towards the mysterious forest. You don’t know if the fox is still around, but you whistle lowly anyway. Twigs snap beyond your vision, and you warily wait for something to happen. 

An extremely loud growl rips a tiny scream out of you and you immediately flinch backwards. You’re frozen in your spot, almost paralyzed as the growls continue. It’s confusing because the noise is more like an aggressive hiss, and it’s unlike anything you’ve heard before. It suddenly switches to a whimper, a plea. You don’t know if you have to break a fight between two animals, but it doesn’t matter when your curiosity takes over and makes you confidently (albeit feigned) stride into the jungle. 

As if your actions are being encouraged, the whimpers grow more desperate and you take slow steps while watching out for any predators waiting to attack. You’re trembling in fear, but then your fox also might need help… 

The motion is way too quick for you to process and you let out a blood curdling scream when you’re tackled to the ground. You don’t stop screaming even when your mouth is covered, muffling your cry for help. 

“Calm down,” a honeyed rich voice tells you, soothing with its calm tone, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You quiet down and peek at the assailant through heavy lids. A confused hum catches in your throat upon seeing batlike ears that poke through dark hair. They easily blend in together, and you scrutinize his features and notice a swishing bushy tail behind the man on top of you. Terror dawns in your eyes, though the man looks fairly tranquilent by the ordeal.

“You fed me earlier,” he recounts and slowly removes his hand from your face. You’re gawking up at him as he clarifies, “Fox hybrid.” You squeak when his tongue darts out to lick your cheek and chuckles at your expression.

“What a-are you doing?” you snivel shakily. 

He gently tucks a stray strand behind your ear before answering nonchalantly, “Scenting my precious doll. You’re so pretty, and kind… and naive.” 

Your breaths quicken when he leans into you, but he conveniently misses your lips to bury his face into your neck. The fur on his pointy ear tickles your jawline, and you’re startled when he starts to sniff you. You feel him lick your sensitive skin and clench your fists with a mewl. You’re utterly terrified by the discovery of a new species, who also seems to be very strong and stealthy. He’s handsome, gifted with a heart shaped face and a set of charming black eyes with full lips, but it’s not important when he’s crushing you with his weight to keep you in place. His mouth and nose are all over you as they explore your taste and smell, and his satisfaction is evident with his sighs of bliss.

“I couldn’t get enough of you earlier,” he reveals with a subtle moan, “I've never had the experience of smelling something so delicious. It's fortunate that you're so easy to fool.” The only thing that you do know about foxes is how cunning they are, but you didn’t think one would land you in this situation. You’re heaving to breathe with a struggle, but he pays no mind to it. “I can’t wait to claim you.”

Despite rendering you immobile, he sounds more desperate and needy than you do; as if he’s the weaker one, like the roles are switched. You might be able to use that to your advantage… “I would love that,” you choke out, though you have no idea what he means by his words, “but I can’t move. I-I want to kiss you.” You want to smack your forehead for coming up with such a terrible lie; you don't even know if his intention is to kiss you.

“Yeah?” he drawls seductively and withdraws his knees from your thighs, most likely leaving a bruise from how hard he dug them in. He holds himself up by his palms that previously clung onto your shoulders and limits your peripheral vision. Your eyes trail to his defined collarbone for a short moment, the moonlight casting a shadow over his fine features. “Kiss me then.”

You inhale sharply before raising your leg to kick him, but his reflexes are faster than yours as he prevents it with one knee. He tuts, “I’m offended; I thought you found me cute.” A knowing smile graces his pink lips, and it doesn’t falter even when you open your mouth to scream again. His calloused hand immediately silences you before you can make any noise, and his other hand reaches down to your lower region. “I even wore a pretty outfit for you today. Such an ungrateful doll...” 

He tugs on your pajama shorts, dragging them down to your knees along with your underwear. You shake your hand and beg unintelligibly, “Please don’t.” You clench your thighs together, but he forces them open and leans back to take your bottoms off completely. The weather feels like it’s dropped to negative degrees as you shiver and he gently hushes you when you begin to sob. 

“Oh doll, there’s no reason to cry yet,” he sighs in fake empathy, “I just really, really want to fuck you.” He heaves his shirt over his head, and that’s when you get a glimpse of his so-called “pretty outfit”. The black garment is familiar because it's the merchandise of an indie band with its flamboyant logo; you know you’ve seen someone else wear it today. He has to use both hands to take it off completely, and once it’s off, your wails echo in the deserted land as he ties it around your mouth. It’s Jimin’s outfit. “Don’t take your eyes off of me. I love having your attention.” His voice is a mere breath, filled with anticipation to touch you.

He slides down to your knees as he continues to undress himself. He’s throbbing under the uncomfortable fabric of the tight jeans, and instead of attacking him with your now free hands, you cover your face stained with tears as you cry. You feel like you’re having a heart attack as your gut churns in defeat; there’s no point in fighting a man who might’ve killed your classmate, a fox no less.

The moment his pants are down his thighs, his stiff length grazes his stomach before he palms it and rubs himself up and down your folds. Your heat is damp with your natural discharge, but it’s so warm and he feels so aroused as a moan slips past his luscious lips. “You must think I’m so rude,” he whispers and hovers over your face, “I haven’t even introduced myself and yet I’m already marking you.”

He whines cutely at a particular tingle before saying, “My name’s Taehyung. I’d love to hear you moan it, but you’re just so naughty.” His emphasis is airy, and you’re terrified by the contrast of his soft tone and rough actions. He’s calculated, but also very reckless; almost amateur as he begins to position himself by your entrance.

Your words are gibberish as you repeat: “No, no, please no!” He clicks his tongue in response and locks eyes with you just before he shoves his cock inside, no adjustment whatsoever as his pitch grows higher in wonderment. He’s down to the hilt, and the fabric in your mouth isn’t enough to drown out your scream of pain. The stretch is excruciating. His eyes screw back as he loses himself in you, and it’s as if he’s lost all control when he starts slamming into you at an unforgiving pace. 

As opposed to your protests, he starts chanting, “Yes, yes, fuck yes, my perfect little doll.” He’s never had intercourse with a human before, but it’s not up for comparison when he’s feeling so heavenly because of your tightness. You’re pulsating around him, walls clenching in discomfort because you’re in so much agony. You push his shoulders, but it’s futile as he doesn’t budge in the slightest; he almost appears possessed, but his loud moans disprove the theory. 

He can’t form coherent words, and neither can you. If you weren’t in such a shock, you’d be encouraging him to be louder in case anyone is nearby to help you. You thrash under him, but your movements are limited because of his firm build. You beg and beg, but he is animalistic with his chase for his high. The sound of slapping skin have no pauses in between because of his pace, and dare he admit that the predator in him enjoys your attempts at getting away. It makes it so much more fun for him, but he’s unable to savour it from how your pussy sucks him in so deliciously. "You feel so fucking good, I'm going crazy."

Once he’s gained some of his sensibility back, he latches onto your neck to lick and bite you. You pull at his hair to yank him away, his canine teeth sinking into your flesh for a second before he moves onto another spot. His torture is endless, and his growls scare you enough to remove your hand and shake like a leaf under him. He wants to taste all of you, and you can't serve as an obstacle.

“Pet my ears,” he grunts, “touch me, touch me, dolly.” 

The initial pain is starting to subside, and your thoughts are coming together although they’re hazed. You’re still aching, but you know he just dropped you a hint; the sooner he’s satisfied, the earlier this nightmare ends. Your fingertips stroke the back of his twitching ear. His fur is so velvety, and petting him is the least bad part about this experience. You must be doing something right, because he’s getting so noisy that there’s no way someone would miss you now. You suck your teeth with a hiss as he sets an impossibly rapid rate, rearranging your guts with every snap of his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cries breathlessly. His release washes over him as spurts of cum paint your throbbing walls in white, and you’re relieved that this is the end. 

His intakes of air are hot on your skin as his breath fans the crook of your neck. Your stomach drops the moment he murmurs his next words, “I want to do it again.”

“Hey!” a gruff voice interrupts his huffs, and your whole world lights up when you see a man in a uniform with a flashlight over your heaving nude bodies. Taehyung is surprised that he didn’t catch the man’s footsteps when he walked over. “This is indecent exposure, you know–” the security officer goes quiet in shock when he notices the perk of Taehyung’s ears, and then the stiff, unmoving tail behind. “What the fuck?”

Taehyung rolls off of you before disappearing from your sight in a single second. He is stealthy and quick, and his footsteps are light when he leaves; presumably shifting as he goes. The guard attempts to chase after him before stopping in front of you. His eyes trail down your figure before he looks away in disgust. “Goddammit, kid, put your clothes back on.” 

“Thank you so much,” you choke on your tears of joy as you ignore the ache in your thighs, the swelling in your heart and your suffocating turmoil. You stand up on wobbly knees and slowly dress yourself. The officer has his back facing you while you change, and you’re grateful he doesn’t witness how fragile you are. 

“What are you thanking me for?” he asks after a moment of prolonged silence.

“H-He was raping me,” you speak in a hushed tone, “and I think h-he killed my classmate.”

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll go notify the police. Are you staying in the motel?”

When you return back to your room with the company of your savior, you’re hurting everywhere and sleep comes to you easily from all the crying you’ve done. You wake up from a knock on your door, and it’s early in the morning as your teacher says, “Pack up dear, we’re leaving in half an hour.”

They found the clothes, you note when you limp outside with your bag dragging you down. There are dried tear stains on your cheeks when you step on the open bus, and you see a bunch of cops surrounding the forest through the window. Jimin isn’t inside, and you shake your head with pursed lips as sobs bubble up in your throat. This feels nothing short of a nightmare. 

The class is informed of Jimin’s disappearance after taking off, and you lean your head against the window as the driver recklessly drives. Your vision is blurred with tears as you watch the forest, but it doesn’t distort it enough for you to miss the flash of a blood red tail skip between the trees, following the path of your transport.

After all, foxes are known for being fast. There’s no way this one wouldn’t be able to track you down sooner or later, your scent bringing you back to him.

[luminois]

— 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧;

𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐰: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭), 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢).

𝟒𝟓𝟏𝟑 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐩.𝐬.: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ･:*✧ 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐨’𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫.

the needle poked the pad of your finger, making you squeak as droplets of blood fell on the scarf you’d been sewing, patching it up out of kindness. the wool was now stained with red.

“shit,” you hissed through gritted teeth, throwing the unfinished piece in the corner of the small room before sucking on the bleeding finger.

the curse had slipped from your lips easily, and you’d done nothing to stop it. you’d discovered it made pain more bearable in a way you couldn’t explain, and your heart didn’t feel heavy because of it. sentences that sounded centuries old resonated in your mind, warning you about your teeth falling off upon speaking such unkind words. you chuckled bitterly, letting your head fall back until it touched the wall. how could you have fallen for such childlike threats? the archangels must have been sure you were nothing but a fool, and at the time they’d been right.

you’d believed their lies, listened to them preaching of saving poor innocent souls from an evil bigger than them, an evil that they couldn’t have understood. but humans knew about sin more than you could have, kept in the dark and fed distorted versions of the truth like you had been.

the truth, the real unadulterated truth, was that the world wasn’t as simple as they wanted you to believe. sometimes war was necessary, it was liberation and revolution, and more often than not peace wasn’t enough. sometimes the only way to do good was to use despicable means, and that was because life isn’t fair. they’d taught you who your enemy was without mentioning the infinite amount of shades of grey existing between the light and the dark, showing you an idealized version of the world. now reality had knocked the air out of your lungs and you were left unarmed, gasping on your own.

in the dark of your room, the metallic taste of blood met your tongue and you were reminded of crimson eyes and searing skin. you smiled at the irony of it all. the only one who had been honest with you, who hadn’t lied to smooth out the edges, who had deemed you strong enough to handle the truth, was your supposed enemy.

in a way, hyunjin had ruined your entire existence. you didn’t have a purpose anymore, you were lost and confused and unable to do your job without thinking of how hypocritical it was, to pretend to know what was best for others without having ever experienced pain yourself. he’d shattered the pink glasses perched on your nose and made you see how diverse the world truly was.

most importantly, hyunjin hadn’t left you alone. you hadn’t ever noticed how fucked up it was that the highest sent their angels all alone to wander through a world they barely knew, without any help or guidance, until hyunjin had refused to leave you by yourself. he had held you and dried your tears, hushed you softly and forced himself to tell you about how sometimes life was also bright and full of wonder. you could tell he’d been struggling to find examples, his handsome face contorted by furrowed eyebrows, but you’d believed him anyways. how could you not?

hyunjin had followed you when you’d wanted to close the bakery and lay down in the shade of your room, only a small window letting the sunshine in. your sheets still held his scent, from the way he’d held you until you’d fallen asleep. you had woken up alone, but wrapped in a sweater too big to be your own.

your eyes traveled to the small desk on the opposite side of the room, where the sweater was placed on a chair. you looked at it for a long second and then got up from your bed, swiftly slipping on your shoes before crossing the space in quick strides. the soft material fell on your smaller figure disgracefully, and you adjusted it until it was hiding the cotton shorts you slept in. you made yourself smaller as you stepped out of the building, wrapping your arms around yourself. earth had become too cold now that you’d gotten used to a demon’s heat.

you wandered through the deserted streets without a destination. some shops had started to open up again, but you’d done nothing more than help clean up the streets, so it wasn’t anything you could be proud of. the town still wasn’t close to being considered a welcoming place but you figured things were just going to work out on their own. your services had never really been needed. you wondered if you’d ever had any other role besides providing temporary relief.

loud noises and shouts had just grasped your attention after turning a corner when a young, disheveled woman ran towards you. you recognized her instantly as the gentle young woman who had helped you revive the unkept communal garden weeks prior. her cheeks were crossed by tears, and the shirt she was wearing had been teared up and was now pathetically hanging off of her figure. she took your hands in a bruising grip, and the panic you saw in her eyes made you tremble.

her voice was broken by sobs and fear, but you managed to make out a sentence between her confused mumbling. “he’s going to kill him, you have to do something!”

“it’s okay, you’re okay,” you said, putting aside your confusion to try and calm the poor woman down. “breathe with me, please.”

she gulped and nodded feverishly, her ragged breaths slowing down as she followed yours, her eyes locked on you as if you were her last lifeline. when she was finally able to talk without difficulty, you asked her to explain what had happened.

“i was walking home, the sun was still out so i thought it was safe, but then a man,” she stammered out, having to take a deep breath before continuing. “he grabbed me and i screamed but he put his hand over my mouth and tried to…”

a sob made her voice break and you hushed her gently, rubbing your hands with hers comfortingly. her next words made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“if it hadn’t been for that boy… oh, i don’t know what could’ve happened.”

“a boy?” you asked.

the woman nodded, her eyes widening with restlessness. “yes! people say they’ve seen you two together, that’s why i came searching for you. he saved me, but now i think he’s going to kill that man, you have to do something!”

she pulled at your hands and repeated her words while you tried to take a decision. could letting that monster die mean that justice would’ve been made? it wasn’t hyunjin’s place to be the judge of his actions, but what if he was none other than the executioner chosen by the highest? your internal conflict was reflected in the furrow of your eyebrows. what was right, and what wasn’t? mere days prior you would’ve answered that question without hesitation, but now things were different. you were different.

at last, you nodded wordlessly and let the woman guide you towards the rowdy noises of the fight. a small crowd had gathered, people shouting and enjoying the display of violence, as if it were a show made purposefully for their entertainment. you had to jostle your way to the front of the circle, elbowing people left and right until you had a clear view.

hyunjin sat on the man’s midriff, keeping him down with his body weight and a hand around his neck. he was holding his throat so tight his knuckles had turned white and the man’s lips were starting to become blue. his other hand was balled in a fist, relentlessly hitting the man’s already destroyed face. his nose was broken and he was bleeding from multiple spots, his blood staining hyunjin’s hands and the concrete below them.

that was hyunjin’s truest form. a demon with his black hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his nape, sweat running down the sides of his face and neck as he bit his lips and breathed hard through his nose from the exertion. his eyes burned with wrath and his inked arms displayed all of his strength. once again, you weren’t scared of him even if you knew you should have been.

he wasn’t taking out the violence nested inside of him on an innocent victim. he was punishing someone that was more monstrous and revolting that hyunjin himself could’ve ever been, and you weren’t sure about wanting to stop him. but a murder wasn’t something you could just walk away from. the people witnessing the scene weren’t going to call the police over an aggression, but if someone died something would have to be done, and you found yourself terrified at the idea of losing hyunjin in such a way. he would have gone back to hell to escape and you weren’t ready to be left alone, without him.

hands tried to hold you back but you pushed them away and stepped inside the circle, calling hyunjin’s name. his fist stopped midair and he turned to look at you, his shoulders raising and dropping as he regained his breath. “angel?”

his eyes followed as you got close to him and grabbed his arm resolutely, making his grip around the man’s throat loosen up. you didn’t seem scared like he thought, but you’d always been full of surprises. he let himself be pulled on his feet, and a smirk curved his lips when you stepped on the unconscious man’s genitals hard enough to make him wail in pain, before leading hyunjin away from the crowd.

——— ･:*✧ ———

hyunjin’s place was anonymous, nothing could suggest that there was someone living in it, except for the bed. you observed the sheets in disarray and then looked up to the headboard. the dark wood was chipped, little pieces of it had come off and the wall behind it was worn out, as if the headboard had hit it repeatedly until the paint had started to break. you looked back at hyunjin as he closed the door behind him and the confused look on your face made him chuckle. he raised his eyebrows and you felt your cheeks starting to burn, so you turned away to not let him see. sex, of course.

“i know you’re blushing, angel, no need to hide,” hyunjin said, walking closer until you felt his breath hit your neck. “you look pretty when you’re shy.”

you sucked in a breath as you felt the ghost of his hands on your hips, before he moved to the side and went to sit on his bed. he groaned as he did so and you remembered the task at hand.

“i need towels, and painkillers.”

“there’s towels in the bathroom and i don’t fucking need painkillers, i’m a demon.”

“you’re human right now,” you reminded him as you opened the door to the small bathroom.

“humans are stupid and weak, their bodies are useless,” you heard him say as you ran a couple towels under the sink. “well, except for one thing.”

you turned the water off and walked back to him, gasping as hyunjin took off his shirt. the dark material had hid it well, but now you could clearly see the blood spilling from his ribs.

“is that a fucking stab wound?!” you shouted as you dropped the towels on the bed and kneeled in front of him to look at the injury.

“he barely scratched me, that’s just- wait,” he said, his smile getting bigger as he realized what you’d said. “did you just say fucking?”

you ignored hyunjin’s words and pressed a towel over the injury to stop the bleeding, until he grabbed your chin and made you look at him.

“it’s just a cut, angel, i moved away before he could seriously hurt me or that woman,” he reassured you, stroking your cheek with his thumb. you sighed in relief and leaned into his touch, your skin getting stained by the blood on his hands, unaware of the turmoil building in hyunjin’s chest.

you, his pretty angel kneeling between his legs, caring for his injuries and saying the bad words you’d picked up from him after kicking a man in the balls. forgotten feelings were filling his stomach and making his cold heart beat faster than anything else could, faster than any random fuck or any fist fight. hyunjin had always known you were different, the weirdest angel he’d ever met, and it made you unbelievably beautiful in his eyes. you made him want to be gentle, to make you happy, and it made him want to ruin what was left of your angelic innocence, too. but he could never hurt you, so, for the first time in his centenarian existence, he was going to be soft, just for you.

“is this my sweater?” he asked, running his finger along its neckline.

you nodded, picking up a towel to clean your bloodstained cheek before doing the same with his hands. “you left it at my place.”

“it looks better on you,” hyunjin said, smiling as he saw you bite back a smile of your own.

once his hands were as clean as you could manage and the cut on his ribs had stopped bleeding, you searched for other wounds. the only one you could see was the little cut on his nose bridge, and you figured the man had gotten in a punch before getting his face destroyed. you reached up to clean it but hyunjin’s hands were on your waist before you could do anything.

“get up from the floor, angel,” he said. his voice was almost a whisper as he lifted you up without needing your help.

you sat on his lap with your legs on either side of him, the closeness making your head spin. you watched your hand tremble as you moved his hair away from his face, hyunjin’s hands caressing your back. he now had to look up at you and he felt all of his smugness wash away, his lips parted as he took in every small detail. perfect, from the last hair on your precious head to the tips of your toes. how could you be so perfect for him?

you felt shy under his gaze, the softness in his eyes unknown to you both. “hyunjin?”

“i want to kiss you so bad,” he said. his voice was low and you shivered, your hands tightening where they were placed on his shoulders while his traveled up your back until he was holding the back of your head, fingers carded through your hair. “do you want me to, angel?”

you did, and you didn’t need to think about it. this wasn’t a demon trying to corrupt an angel. it was you and hyunjin, uncaring of the laws of the universe saying you should hate each other, in love. because you could feel it, the earth-shattering love growing between you, could’ve even touched it had you been in your angelic form. the only physical manifestation of it you had right there was your gasping heart and the emotion in hyunjin’s eyes, and it was enough.

hyunjin’s lips swallowed your inexperienced ones, pulling whimpers from you as he bit and licked and overwhelmed you with new sensations. his hands roamed down your body and pulled you impossibly closer. he sucked harshly on your bottom lip and then left a trail of wet kissed down your neck as you gasped for hair, hugging his neck tightly. he bit and sucked on the sensitive skin, and you felt his smirk when he found a spot that made you yelp. angry red now adorned your throat, and the demon looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction before kissing you again.

his hands disappeared under your sweater and hyunjin leaned back to look at you with a glint in his red irises. “what were you thinking when you left your house like this, angel?”

your cheeks burned red as you remembered the cotton shorts you’d been wearing the entire time. they were a flimsy, baby blue material, barely covering your bum while you slept, and the same went for the matching top you were sporting as well. one of your hands flew to cover your mouth as hyunjin’s slender fingers reached your left nipple, toying with the hardened bud while his eyes never left your face. he grabbed your wrist and uncovered your mouth, drinking in your flustered expression. under you, the tent in his pants was now poking your thigh unashamedly.

“were you thinking of me, mmh? going out half naked and covering up with my sweater, such a bad girl.”

hyunjin grabbed the hem of the sweater to pull it off and you swiftly raised your arms to help him, impatient to have his lips back on yours. addictive was one word to describe the way he kissed you, and suddenly you wanted to find out what else he could do to make you feel this way. the fastest way to do so was pushing his buttons, and you’d spent enough time around him to know just what to say.

the sweater hit the floor and you cupped hyunjin’s face. “i’m not a bad girl, i’m your little angel.”

his hands on your thighs slipped under your shorts to grab your butt cheeks, hard. “you are?”

he raised a challenging eyebrow at you before leaning in and mouthing at your covered breasts. you moaned as he sucked on it and then moved up, kissing your collarbones while moving your top’s strap down your shoulder.

“i am,” you stuttered out, “i thought of you so much these days, i even t-touched myself while thinking about you, hyunnie.”

you felt him smile against your skin and come up to kiss you properly, now hugging your waist. you melted at the way his tongue danced with yours, a weight lifted from your shoulders. you’d sinned because of him and you didn’t regret it, knowing he liked it made you feel proud.

“did you like it, angel? did it make you feel good?”

“i don’t know,” you admitted. “it felt a little good but… weird? i don’t think i did it properly.”

hyunjin laughed, and the burning feeling he was laughing at you had your cheeks going red in embarrassment. “my pretty girl can’t even touch herself properly, mmh? that’s alright, i’m gonna teach you how to do it.”

you squealed as he picked you up and let you fall on the soft mattress, your hair spread around you like a halo. his shirtless form hovered over you like a vision as he took off your shorts and pried your shaking legs open. he smirked at the wet patch on your panties before subtly dragging his knuckles over it, making you gasp and tremble.

“look at you, so wet and sensitive for me already.”

hyunjin laid next to you on his side, propped up on his elbow so he could see all of you. you looked up at him with wide eyes and his smile turned soft. “give me your hand, angel.”

he took your right hand in his and led it down your body, from your useless top to your bare stomach to where you needed it the most. you came in contact with the damp spot on your panties and pouted at the uncomfortable feeling, raising your hips to kick them off and they joined the little pile of clothes gathered on the floor.

“close your eyes,” hyunjin said, guiding your hand between your legs, “and think about me.”

you complied, and the first touch made you gasp. your free hand flied to grasp any part of hyunjin you could reach, ending up scratching at his chest as images of him flooded your mind. he whispered instructions in your ear, and a new wave of arousal gushed out of you as he pressed your middle finger on a hard nub. you screamed, your toes curling up at the pleasure.

“feels good, mmh?” he said, making you draw circles around that heavenly spot. you nodded, unable to think straight, but it wasn’t enough. “words, baby.”

“it f-feels good.”

“that’s where you wanna touch when you’re by yourself, but you’re with me right now.”

you opened your eyes and looked up at him, confused by his words. hyunjin chuckled and kissed your temple, endeared, and brought your hand lower. the burning sting of both yours and hyunjin’s fingers pushing into you made you cry out and hide your face in his neck. he hushed you softly, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and leaving pecks on your clammy forehead, letting you get used to the stretch.

“it hurts,” you whined, tears threatening to slide down your cherub cheeks.

“i know, angel, but it’s going to hurt even more later if we don’t do this now,” he reassured you. “be my good girl and tell me when it gets better.”

a minute passed until you finally started to relax, and from then on it felt incredible. countless of your moans and whines, muffled against hyunjin’s skin, filled the room as he added a finger and then another one. your tears started to fall when you found that first spot again, pressing against it while hyunjin stretched you open. it felt like your pleasure was building up, your sounds progressively getting louder as you trashed around on the mattress, and then it was over.

hyunjin’s long fingers slipped out and he grabbed your wrist to keep your hand away. his lips drowned your complaints as he hugged you close, your bodies sweaty and burning up against each other.

“why?” you whined, letting your damp cheek rest against this chest. hyunjin’s heart was beating fast and strong, his big hands stroking your back reassuringly.

“i can give you something better, angel,” he said, sitting up before helping you out of your top.

“better than that?” you asked in disbelief, now laying completely naked in the middle of the bed under hyunjin’s hungry gaze. he laughed at you again and your thighs rubbed against each other, instinctively trying to create some friction.

“you have no idea how good i can make you feel, that’s not even half of it, baby.”

you watched mesmerized as hyunjin took off his pants, the clinking of his belt as it fell on the floor making you shudder. every time you saw him you thought he couldn’t get more gorgeous, and he proved you wrong every time. your half-lidded eyes got drunk off how perfect the demon looked standing there, arrogant in the way he touched himself, a moving work of art. his gaze licked down your own body as if it were an actual touch, and you smiled at how beautiful it made you feel.

your legs went willingly when hyunjin’s hands grabbed your thighs gently and made a space for himself between them, but they started to shake when you felt him prod at your core. his fingers had hurt before, you were afraid of the pain you were about to experience.

“angel, look at me,” hyunjin said, smiling softly at the way you were holding your hands close to you in an attempt to reassure yourself. he leaned down to kiss your lips, your noses bumping together and making you giggle. “don’t be scared, it passes quickly and then it feels good.”

“really?”

“you know i don’t lie to you.”

you felt the pain as he was kissing you again, swallowing your cries and pecking away your tears. hyunjin waited for you to relax under him, something he’d never done for anybody else, and held you close as you left marks on his back.

“breathe, baby,” he said, caressing down your sides. “tell me when you’re ready.”

true to hyunjin’s words, it didn’t take long for the tension and hurt to melt away, your flesh going lax as you sighed in relief. he settled deeply inside of you, the sting from the stretch still present but you found it strangely pleasurable, and you hugged his neck before whispering. “you can move.”

“that’s my good girl.”

the demon’s eyes sparkled red and then he set a pace that was brutal, eliciting screams and noises you’d never heard yourself make before, hyunjin’s own moans quickly joining yours. your fingers got tangled in his hair, now wet with the same sweat that was falling on your skin in droplets, his skin absolutely searing.

you wrapped your legs around his waist and your eyes rolled in the back of your head when he changed the angle, finding just the right spot. a string of words barely resembling hyunjin’s name left your throat as he wrapped an hand around it, pressing just enough to make you lightheaded.

“you’re perfect, angel,” he said, his voice low and breathy as he panted. he took your hand in his and brought it to your stomach. “you’re doing so well, you did this, my good girl. right here, feel how well you’re taking me.”

you looked down between the two of you, still gasping for air when you felt it, him moving under your skin, and something loosened. a shudder washed over you and your hands tightened around hyunjin’s neck, both keeping him close and pushing him away as you screamed.

hyunjin only slowed down for a minute, barely letting you catch your breath before picking up the pace again. you whined as the feeling got so intense it started to hurt but he only hushed you down, singing your praises and sweetly torturing you at the same time. you had to endure the same high times and times again before hyunjin started to lose his rhythm, and then you felt warmth flooding you and his body fell on you, covering you completely as his muscles trembled violently.

kisses smothered your wet cheeks, when did you start to cry again? your mind was hazy with exhaustion and still high on the most intense and sublime sensations you’d ever experienced. you noticed how dark the room had gotten and wondered just how much time had passed, but you didn’t really care. every bone in your body ached and hyunjin was still inside of you, contributing to the uncomfortable feeling of laying on a bed dirty with your own blood and sweat. but that was the best place on earth, where the heavy smell of sex met the heavenly scent of your lover.

you stroked hyunjin’s dark hair and he turned to look at you, eyes full of wonder. “how were you the best?”

“the best?” you repeated dumbfounded, your voice scratchy from all the screaming. “you’ve been with people far more used to it than me, i’m sure of it, hyunnie. it’s impossible i did better than them.”

“none of them lives up to you, i’m ruined for everyone else now.”

“you’re ruined?” you said, “what am i, then?”

hyunjin smiled. “you’re my little angel.”

do you want to read more?

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[iammyownvariant]

Reader (Ghosts BBC, Mentioning of Alison/Mike and Alison/Thomas)

SUMMARY: You grew up in a wonderful big house full of ghosts. But why did you see them anyway? Reader Insert Series: BBC Ghosts AN: As I haven't the time to fully write out this idea, here's a shortened version of a prompt that has been playing inside my mind. Based on a post I viewed recently: I have always thought that if I'd been Alison, I'd be scared to death about getting pregnant or having a miscarriage and seeing that ghost child all the time. Now I could write something angsty about this, or something funny. I decided to go for a different route and wrote how it would be to be born in that household, with Alison and Mike as your mum and dad. (So no miscarriages or creepy things, just growing up with ghosts). Enjoy! PS. If anyone feels like picking up this idea or exploring elements of it, please do <3 -- -- Seeing ghosts was a normality to you. As you grew up, you saw them around the house and they were your friends. You saw them in school, saw them in the streets and basically everywhere you went. And you more than often became friends with them.

So this was how mum felt, hmm?

You could not say that you led a normal life. Seeing the ghosts and interacting with them wasn’t the oddest thing of all. No. The oddest thing you found, was something only revealed to you at a much later date, when you were already grown. But let’s cut back to when you were little.

You grew up in a wonderfully big home that your mum and dad had inherited by pure luck (or was it misfortune?). The house cost them everything and more than often people had wondered why they had started having kids during such a stressful period in their lives – because the home was still a bit of a wreck when you were born.

The house was large and wonderful and yours. You had never known any other place and you felt no need to ever move elsewhere. You loved it here. It was a certain love that made your mum and dad all the more determined to keep the place no matter what.

Apart from living in a fantasy-like building, your life was pretty normal.

Except for the ghosts.

The first time your parents noticed you saw them was when you were just a toddler and your father freaked out because you seemed to be talking to someone who wasn’t there. Your mum, being able to see them after a nearly-fatal accident, confirmed his fears though. You were playing with one of the ghosts that inhabited the house. Your parents thought it was a one off, until your sister was born four years later and she exhibited the same signs as you had.

Thus, the theory that seeing ghost was inheritable came into existence.

But as you had been seeing them since you were born, you held no fear of the inhabitants of the house. And there were a lot of them. It meant you were never alone. It was soothing in a way. Whenever there was something wrong or you felt sad or down, one of the ghosts was bound to cheer you up.

You especially loved Humphrey as a child. You loved his soothing voice and the tales he would tell when you couldn’t sleep. Truth to be told, you had a bit of a crush on the late Sir Humphrey Bone as a kid, thinking his face to be really pretty. So pretty, you often helped when his head and body were apart. You would go searching for another of the ghosts to pick up his head and put him back together whenever he lost it again. Though sometimes it would just be his head on your nightstand. Others might think this depravingly morbid, but it brought you a sense of safety, knowing he was there watching you. It chased away any bad dreams.

You often held sleepovers with Kitty. She was a lovely giggling young woman, and she loved to play hide and seek with you and your sister in the grand garden surrounding your home. The three of you would often giggle way into the night when either your mum would come to tell you to please go to sleep – or Robin joined in and did some of his caveman word games with the three of you – which made the evening all the better (no matter how often Kitty would exclaim that it was supposed to be a girls night only).

Having the ghosts around wasn’t always fun though. For instance, when you were a teenager and were playing dressing up and imagining all the boys who would swoon over you, only to see a head stick through your wall and telling you off. Auntie Fanny was a real pain sometimes, always talking about how you should be decent, how you should dress, how to hold your fork and knife during a dinner with guests. It was frustrating but she always managed to get on your nerves.

Your sister didn’t fare much better with her and suffered the same mouthiness of the former lady of the house. It didn’t help that the ghost woman still jumped out of a window in the midst of the night either. Your sister failed one of her exams once because she couldn’t focus on learning the material because Fanny Button kept her up each night with her screams. It was thanks to Thomas’ support that she was forced to focus on her schoolbooks and thanks to the other ghosts (and mum, who was pretty much threatening them to do as she said) to keep Auntie Fanny in check. In the end, your sister had changed back to a different room. The previous one she had occupied had been chosen by her because of the epic royal bathroom attached to it. Now she slept closer to yours again and took to using the shared bathroom without complaining. You didn’t mind, you liked having her close again.

Out of all the ghosts, you found the Captain to be the most tiresome as you were young. He was always drilling on about what you and the others should do. Always focusing on schedules that you should follow. Telling you off like you were a soldier.

Pat was way kinder, and often a bit too soft. You knew he often hung around your younger sister, because she was more outgoing than you were and he loved to be outside in nature. He helped her do all sorts of tricks, climb trees, shoot a bow and arrow – dangerous stuff even. But he taught her to do it responsibly, despite what you may expect of a man with an arrow lodged in his throat.

And then there was the one who frightened you like no other. Not even the plague citizens living in the cellar, who always kindly helped you with whatever issue you came to talk about. Yep, one of the ghosts scared you for a while: you usually tried to avoid Julian. As you were young, you thought he was an old man, wearing no pants, and he had a mean streak to him – jealousy you often found. He didn’t particularly seemed to like kids either, so you were fine with him going out of your way. As you grew older you realised Julian wasn’t actually as bad as you thought him to be. He even saved your life once or twice by pushing away or picking up a dangerous object that might have injured you otherwise. He was watching over you, like all the others were. And as you grew into a teenager and passed that sweet 16, you noticed a different gleam in his eyes. Julian changed. He became more gallant, more of a smooth talker when around you. But that behaviour ended quite abruptly, although the gleam of admiration never left his eyes. You wondered what had frightened him so to stop his advances on you. Whatever it was, you were grateful. Julian was not your type and never would be. (Later on you found out he had been challenged to a duel by Thomas who wanted to defend your honour, as child of the lovely Alison).

And then there was Jemima, she was the best friend of you and of your sister. As children she was just amazing to play with. First, she was older, and knew cool games you and your sibling had never heard of. Then, you grew to be the same age and she was the coolest girl you would ever know. And then, you grew older and she grew quieter. But you never ceased your habit of singing chilly songs with her.

You were a child, growing up between ghosts, and you felt safe between them. And though your father swore he could see them, most of his interactions with the house ghosts was initiated through you or your sister. He just didn’t possess the gift. But he was the greatest dad there ever lived. He loved doing stuff with you and your sister, going out, do fun things. He was a swell dad, filled to the brim with love for you and your sibling. He’d do anything to keep the two of you safe and happy and clothed and fed – even if things financially didn’t always go well for your family. You loved him to bits.

Your mum tried to warn you of the dangers of seeing ghosts. How those who could not see them would think it weird – would think you to be weird. You minded her words and sensibly, didn’t let anything show while in school. Even though, you were troubled with the ghost of a former teacher who kept sitting at a way too small child’s desk next to you and pester you throughout the lessons. You were glad when your mum told him off, some day after lessons. She had to sneak into the school with you. Oh boy, you had loved her firm voice, her confidence, and the fact that the ghost stuck to a different classroom from then on without coming near you again.

Your sister had a bit of a harder time. She let herself be distracted by the ghosts of a few children who had died in a school fire ages ago. While you had gotten away with explaining to them how you could not talk to them while others were around, your sister didn’t mind that rule though, and your parents struggled more than once with comments on how they should take your sister to see a doctor about this. Eventually, your sister learned, as she grew older. But more than often she would ignore what others thought of her and still communicate with the dead whilst other living beings were around.

But despite the fortune, or misfortune, of seeing ghosts, your life was pretty normal as you grew up. You loved all house ghosts for different reasons.

While Mary was easily one of your favourites, she was also a bit daft to the modern ways. Simple, might be a better word. She often promised to help you with your homework, but she never could attribute anything that you didn’t already know. So you often had to distract her with small tasks or tell her to hang out with Kitty or Robin instead.

And when Mary was gone it would be Thomas who would take over. Although he was easily distracted by art and snivelly poems, he would always try his best to focus and help you and your sister through each demeaning homework task. Sir Thomas Thorne was always nearby when you needed him. He had the tendency to sing songs to you as a baby, create old fashioned nursery rhymes when you were a toddler, play silly games with you as a child, motivate and guide you as a teenager.

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. With all the care he held for you, with the warm tingling feeling it gave you whenever he was around. You should have known. And when you were a teenager and dated that ghost boy from two blocks away, it was Thomas who completely lost it and told you the boy would be no good for you, and that you deserved someone better. Someone more permanent. Someone alive.

Your mother and Thomas had a huge fight then – ("Someone more permanent than a ghost? That's rich coming from you!" your mum had shouted) all ghosts were listening in. But your dad was none the wiser. And so were you. Because you did not catch all references, and you did not understand each jab and insult thrown like a ping pong ball. And when your mum sat with her hands in her hair and Sir Thomas’ arm wrapped around her shoulder, you thought they had just made up. And then your father came in and he gave your mother solace. They hugged for a long time, and Thomas had just gone into the adjacent room. But that was all there was to it.

Of course it wasn’t though. Because your mother was strong. Darn strong. You loved it about her. The whole attitude she had, the air with which she wandered around the home and instructed the ghosts like she owned them. Your father said it hadn’t always been like that, that it had grown over time. In the beginning she had been ill-at ease, easily manipulated by the inhabitants of their home, had been often looked at funnily and ruined many a great business deal for talking or listening to the ghosts. She still did that – listen to them. She still embarrassed herself and your whole family along with it. Like that time you were at a beach party with family and friends and she had an entire conversation with a family of the 1960’s who were dead. Yeah, you’d rather not think back on that.

Or the one time one of she reported a crime to a dead officer.

Yeah.

But your mother was your hero. She was strong, fierce, and always stood up for you and your sister.

To find out a much deeper and darker truth then, about your family, was world shattering. And it was all because your sister had been in an accident and you came home to find Thomas in all states. And when you asked the other ghosts what had occurred they told you he was crying about his child. And that’s only when the pin dropped and you realised why this man was always working in your best interest and being so darn warm and kind for a person who was dead. Because you'd not missed the many times he showered your mother with affection. Or the way she would smile at him when he gave her another compliment. Or the way they would be just a little...too close. Could your sister be the child of a ghost? Impossible, right?

And you confronted your mum about it.

And she broke down.

Alison Cooper confessed to you, while your father was away at work, that she had been entangled with the ghost of Sir Thomas Thorne after a few heavy drinks and a way too fun party held at their home. Apparently, she had been incredibly drunk and had said things she otherwise wouldn’t have admitted. What happened should not have been possible by far. But Thomas had been able to actually feel her, and Alison had believed that no ghost could actually cause consequences with a human who was still alive. Perhaps her near-death experience had thrown something into the mix. We would never know. But Alison found herself pregnant after days spent without a touch by your dad, Mike. The first thought had been to terminate the pregnancy, but remembering the dove that still liked to terrorize their bedroom, Alison had grown scared. She realised she could not terminate the pregnancy or she might be faced with a ghost of her own baby. And you realised this was not your sister she was talking about. This was you.

So instead, Alison had pleaded Thomas to keep their secret (which he had done poorly and every ghost knew what had truly occurred, but luckily your dad could not interact with them), and your mum seduced your dad. They were already married, there were no contenders, your father believed you were theirs and never held a doubt. In hindsight, it explained your paleness- and the seeing of ghosts. It had been deemed the impossible, and for a long while, Alison thought and hoped that you were a child of Mike’s after all.

Mike took it all up really well, with you being what is called an accident. He was instantly smitten – as were all of the ghosts to be honest. Alison thought things would work our after all.

But then, when Mike wanted to have another kid, and though they tried, it took three years and a lot of desperation to admit to seeing a doctor. And then they were faced with the terrible truth that Mike wasn’t fertile at all. The news was delivered to your mum first, with Mike away and only the house ghosts listening in. It was a shock to all of them, mostly to Alison who had been pointed at the result by another ghost doctor. She managed to hide away the evidence, the true results, and together with newly found ghost friends she made at the hospital, fabricated a new lie. Mike was never to know that you could not possibly be his.

So instead, Alison was persuaded by Thomas and her undying love for Mike. He wanted another baby, she wanted them to be happy. Deal done. Thomas fathered a second ghost-seeing child with your mum. Your sister. The one who was recovering in hospital after a nasty car crash. (And luckily, she got out alive and safe and you got to hug her again tightly because no matter what, your sister would always be closest to you - all ghosts in spite).

So there you were, hearing your mother’s confession. The understanding dawning upon you that you did not see ghosts because of just your mum – but because you father was one. It all made so much sense. And it took a lot of strength to keep your mouth shut about it to Mike, your father.

Your real father, Thomas, you found, was understanding. And you were glad more than once that he could not interact with Mike. You had warned him that you would keep calling Mike dad, even if he wasn’t biologically. And Mike remained none the wiser. You still loved your non-biological dad as fiercely as you had before. You’d just glare a lot more in Thomas’ direction for a while.

In the end, you ended up marrying a young ‘living’ partner. You made sure that both Mike and Thomas were leading you down the aisle – even if Mike was never to know it. All Ghosts loved it, loved how you recognised Thomas to be your father. They also loved it how you never once dropped the truth on Mike or let him down. In your eyes, he would always remain on a pedestal as the perfect dad. It just so happened that you had two now.

As you somehow had expected, Alison died too young. An accident out of love, one of the ghosts had said. (She was furious at Thomas for many years to come, but she could not help but love him still.) During the years she was angry at Thomas, she tried to convey a message to Mike. She wanted him to know the truth, but he hadn’t understood her dying last breath, and he hadn’t understood her hauntings. ("It say's Thomas... dad? dad? Wait a minute, isn't Thomas one of the ghosts? Yeah, of course he is dead. Duh!") And he seemed delighted that she was still there, even as he started dating a new woman and ended up marrying her. (Alison was okay withit, but only after smashing a few vases and making that new woman's life a living hell). It was no wonder your dad wanted to move elsewhere quite soon after his second marriage. I mean, living with your deceased wife and your new crumpit was a bit weird, right? Your dad, Mike, handed the house to you and your sister. She chose not to stay and lived her live elsewhere, visiting occassionally, while Mike and his new wife settled somewhere close by. You remained in the huge mansion with your husband and your children, enjoying the way the ghosts watched over them as they had watched over you, feeling safe and happy. Because with these ghosts you were at home.

[soulwillower]

friendly neighborhood spiderman • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: soooo my idea was an e2l spiderman richie x reader. they hate each other at school, but one day while patrolling he sees her with her friends outside and watched her and is like ‘shit maybe she’s not so bad’. then proceeds to be mean to her at school anyways. then a few days later he sees her crying her e yea a out and talks to her as spidey, consoles her, start liking each other. and then at school he’s a jerk and she’s like I can’t take ur shit. make up. friends. lovers. photographer reader.   +    ok so I was thinking maybe her parents are divorced and it’s smth abt how both parents tell her totally different stories abt the divorce. like the mom says we never loved each other, it was arranged marriage, but he abused me and cheated on me. and the dad says she was a psycho always stealing my stuff and bitching at me. we thought shE had schizophrenia. both her parents are ok to her so she gets fed up and leaves home crying. Goes to rooftop sees Spider-Man AND BOOM LOVE. self indulgencE here

warnings: enemies to lovers (my specialty), mentions of a rough divorce, a bit of violence, spiderman!au, slight blood, unedited, she/they pronouns for reader

[losers + reader are 18.]

6.4k words

♡

you're convinced it started when you missed the subway. 

that was the butterfly flapping it's wings; then the chaos of the rest of the day just happened to fall in place because some sadistic twist of fate said it so, and now you're rolling your eyes at your friend in the hallway, backpack loose on your right shoulder with a budding black eye that was throbbing with the pain of a hundred suns. 

you'd snuck up on your classmate in the dark room (first mistake) and then tried to scare him (second), resulting in a metal water bottle to the face. "well if you just ice it, i'm sure the swelling and the pain will go away..." your friend trails off as you sigh, nodding in agreement. "i'm so embarrassed, i'm just hoping it doesn't bruise." 

"-y/n, what's up with you? wh- oh." your other friend says as they join you, eyes landing on your swollen cheek. 

it was this moment that richie tozier, certified asshole, walks near with three of his friends. richie, the bane of your existence. also, the boy whose locker is four away from yours. sensing your fatal hesitance, richie grins, "y/n's still upset because someone dropped a house on their sister." he making everyone snicker. you glare at the ground. 

you don't want him to see your face; any kind of ammo would be enough for richie to take and go miles with, and you're not in the mood for one of your typical screaming matches, as much as the others at this school love to watch. 

"woah, y/l/n, who gave you the shiner?" he asks as he twists his fingers around his locker combination. 

"why? you trying to match?" you threaten, and richie just smiles. he's laughing into his open locker as you roll your eyes, your friends peeling away eventually as you start to search through your locker. 

"so," richie starts just as you thought the silence would stay until you could flee. you groan, leaning your head on the locker as he continues, "did flash finally figure out who's been saran-wrapping his car?" 

you narrow your eyes, "how'd you know that was me?" you ask, certain that nobody had seen you besides three of your friends. it's doubtful they'd tell richie. 

his face pales slightly and a rosy blush blossoms on his high cheekbones as he shakes his head, adam's apple bobbing as he gulps. "because, e-everyone knows." he stutters out weakly. you give him a weird look, shaking your head. "bullshit." you mutter as you brush past him, slamming your locker closed. “creep.” 

- 

richie hadn't meant to stalk them. y/n y/l/n's friend group just happened to be on the route he usually patrolled after classes, so he unintentionally ended up watching them pop in and out of the drugstore.

it was nearing a golden light around the city as richie sits on the fire escape of some building across the way - y/n's distinct figure sliding out of the store, arms wrapped inconspicuously around a bag and smile bright enough that richie can barely see the shiner still catching the light on y/n's left eye. 

he briefly wonders where it's really from, and if y/n was okay. he wonders if y/n was robbed, or if he could've been there to stop it. 

it's not until the three others in y/n's gang of idiots run out of the store that it clicks in richie's head - they definitely just stole those cookies, chips, the bottles of pop, the - richie tilts his head, squinting his eyes. yes, y/n definitely stole that handle of tito's. 

then y/n’s lifting the sheet in their hands - it looks clear, and then it’s being wrapped around a car in the parking lot. he’s alarmed, for a moment - y/n wouldn’t do that to just anybody, he doesn’t think. but then he laughs into his mask when he recognizes the car: flash thompson’s. 

he’s a nightmare, and he makes richie’s life hell just as much as flash makes y/n’s life hell and the rest of richie’s friends. so he leaves her be to saran wrap the car. 

feeling relieved that when he got his powers his vision repaired itself, richie can't help but chuckle, watching y/n's hair glint in the light and the way they tilt back in laughter, the gaggle of friends traipsing away from the store and down the block. richie's lips quirk in a small grin: shit, maybe y/n's not so bad. 

- 

but despite that, richie and y/n's rivalry did nothing but steadily increase for the next week.

maybe it was because you were furious that you and your bio partner, richie's best friend stan, had gotten a b- on your lab, or maybe it was just  because richie was just feeling a bit more testy than typical. 

you're sure it's because when you go to your debate club's meeting, you find none other than richie tozier sitting across from your chair. 

"why is he here?" you ask the teacher, and he nods to richie, "i requested he attend a meeting, try it out. richie's quite talented, you know. i figured we could bring in a new challenge for you." 

“just because someone can talk a lot doesn’t mean they have anything good to say.” you snap. 

you can't even look at the cocky smirk on richie's face, his feet kicked up as he lounges at the desk. "intimidated, toots?" he asks cooly, and you roll your eyes. "never." 

and then ten minutes later, you’re doing a brainbreaking exercise where you’re split into groups of two and debating over a topic given to you. but you and richie were far more distracted by each other. 

“you know, for someone who everyone says is the best intellectual match for me, you’re a straight up douche and i can’t wait to graduate and never see you again.”

“compatible intellect, doll, not personalities. maybe if you stop acting like such an infant and stamping your feet around, we can part ways even faster.”

you glare at him. he glares back. then nothing else happens. 

the stress of the day caught up to you nearly immediately as you got home. you're holding back tears as you ignore your parents, who are screaming at each other; instead changing into sweats and a sweatshirt, brewing yourself a mug of tea, and slinking up to the roof with a blanket, prepared to mope around in the drizzle of rain. at least on the roof, nobody will see you cry. 

but the universe just can't let you have anything as of lately, because as soon as you finally settle down on the roof sitting on the blanket, and nearly letting a tear escape, a figure stands up a mere twenty feet from you, and you jump a bit. apprehensively, your eyes squint, and you're shocked to discover a spiderman suit bright in the dreary lighting of the overcast afternoon. 

the suit-clad person seems to be surprised by you as well, as you stand up, you're wary, unsure of how to act. of course you've heard of spiderman - he's all anyone can talk about lately, but you never expected to see him this close. what do you say?

"are you real?" you croak out. 

"am i- yes, what kind of question is that?"  his voice is way younger than you expected, and you're almost thrown off. he's closed the distance between you now, standing between you and the edge of the building, about four feet away. 

you narrow your eyes, immediately wanting to test him. "well, i don't know, i've seen people around jackson heights just wearing costumes like spiderman-" you argue, shrugging. 

the bickering is unexpected from a literal superhero, but it's strangely familiar to you. frowning, you walk closer to the masked figure, watching as spiderman takes steps backwards. he's at the edge of the building, and so without any thought, you place both of your palms across his sturdy chest and shove as hard as you can. "wait, wait what are you-" and spiderman's voice fades as he stumbles back, falling off the edge of the building with a yelp. 

for a moment, your breath leaves your lungs, and your hands slap your mouth. what did you just do? you can't breathe, tears clouding your vision yet again. 

but then a sticky, stringy substance slaps to the side of the building and the figure comes flying up, having catapulted himself up and back on the roof with a web. you gasp in relief, but the figure is already talking. 

"-what the fuck is your deal?" are the first words from the masked boy as he walks away from the ledge. your eyes are still wide, heart thumping fast and your tears are still there, threatening to fall. "-what if i wasn't actually spiderman, i- you could've killed an innocent person, holy sh-" 

you're tuning him out, though, the realization that you could have just killed someone finally pushing you over the edge. you crumble onto the blanket and let out a short, cut off sob. 

"woah, woah, hey..." spider-man looks hesitant, but then comes towards you where you fall to the gravel. "-hey, what's h-what are you doing, why are you crying?" he says, voice going softer. you frown, wondering why his voice seems so deep and forced. batman did that to conceal his identity, you think before letting out a sob, shaking your head. "shouldn't you be out, like, fighting crime or whatever?" 

"i'm here to make sure people are okay. you're clearly not okay." he argues, and you're too tired to try and argue with this stranger. 

"my parents are getting divorced," you sniff, eyes squeezing shut as more thick tears leak down your cheek. you know you probably look destroyed right now in front of this hero, but you don't care. after silence from him, he sits down right next to you on your blanket, backs leaning against some electrical box.

"and.. i can't tell who's lying. they told me completely different things." you cut yourself off, swallowing thickly. "my mom says it was a l-loveless marriage, that he- my dad used to... hurt her. and cheat on her-" you hiccup, wiping your eyes, makeup leaking on your hands. 

"my dad says she's psychotic. that she steals his stuff, that she always yells at him, and i can't-" you sigh, looking up at the clouds, watching a flock of birds fly away in the misting of the wet weather. "i feel like they see me as a pawn to play off each other. and at my school, i'm just the antagonist. people only like me because they like to see the fights i get into with this other kid." 

"midtown is just like that, i'm sure none of them mean anything by it-" you look at the boy, squinting as you take in the red fabric stretching over sharp cheekbones.

 "-how d'you know i go to midtown?" you sniffle. does spiderman go there, too? or teach there? how old is he, because he certainly seems too young to be a teacher?

he leans back, exhaling in an admission of guilt that flares a feeling of familiarity in you somewhere, something that's on the tip of your tongue. "lucky guess?" he states, choking it out as if he was trying to form the right words. you decide to brush it off, the feeling of being able to vent to a complete stranger suddenly making you feel better. the light mist in the air even feels good, now. 

"i can't deal with it. i just don't know. why should this have to be something they vent to me about? it hurts, i don't know what to believe and i just don't know what to do. i'm lost, i just need to have someone here for me." you hug yourself slightly, "am i selfish?" you finally ask, voicing the thought that's been nagging you for months. it's silent for a moment. a car horn sounds in the distance, a dog barks, people call to each other in the street. below you, the street is dotted with tiny moving umbrellas, concealing people underneath their net of dry safety in mere splotches of yellow, black, pink from how high up you are. 

spider man's nudging you in the ribs softly, then, calling you back to your own body. "listen. i know selfish, okay? i'm the definition of it, but, uh..." 

"y/n." you sniffle. "-y/n. trust me, you're not selfish for wanting to be loved, to be cared for...it's, um..." he scratches the back of his head, and you briefly wonder what color his hair is. what texture, length, how he styles it. 

"you deserve good things to happen, and, uh, it's not selfish for you to be overwhelmed. you're going through stuff that people our age shouldn't go through. especially not alone."

"so you are my age?" you ask, sniffling. sensing him tense next to you, you brush it off. you kind of figured as much from his...immaturity. "and you - spiderman - think you're selfish? do you know how much of a paradox that statement is?" you jest, shaking your head. 

spiderman's head tilts back, and he laughs. it seems to surprise him almost as much as it surprises you, because he shakes his head, trying to stifle it quick. "you forget," he starts, his fingers tapping at the tight fabric on his thighs. "that i also have a life. i'm not just spiderman. so... yeah, maybe spiderman's not the most selfish person ever, but... i am. the real me." 

"you have to care a lot about people to want to do what you do." you say, feeling better after talking to someone and hearing his reassurance. "you're not always spiderman, but... y'now, spiderman is always you. i'd say that makes you a good person." you say simply. you sigh, heart still hurting.  you start with a deep breath, then a quiet, "you ever feel stuck? like..."

"like you're playing two people at once?" he finishes. you swallow, feeling oddly seen by this masked stranger. "yeah, spiderman." you say dejectedly. 

-

and that was the start of an odd, unlikely friendship between you and the masked stranger. he'd stop by your building almost every other day, even if for a few minutes, always to check in on you, to ask how your day was. it made your chest fill with butterflies and the air fill with your laughter. 

despite your new friendship, things at midtown sort of took a turn for the worse. 

it was just richie, really. your black eye was gone but richie seemed to be compensating for something every time he saw you - the person who used to be a challenging enemy turned into a malicious tormentor, who would comment on every single thing you do. it was driving you mad. 

you're just lucky richie doesn't know that you do all the school's photography somehow, or at least, doesn't remember, because he's gone the days that you take photos for the decathalon, the honor society, and the band. each time you asked, someone told you some lame excuse like, 'oh, tozier's at the orthodontist.' 

richie doesn't have braces, though. 

you can’t help but wonder why richie’s never there, why he’s always sneaking off, buying new backpacks... bruises on his eyes...

the last straw is when you and stan are just trying to finish this replacement lab to get a better grade, and richie's sitting at the end of the table with bill denbrough, the two of them playing paper football and laughing loudly like they're fourth graders. 

you resist the urge to beg stan to get his moronic friends away from you, knowing that it would just insult the boy and get you nowhere. 

so, with gritted teeth and a tight grip on your pen, you work in relative silence with stan while the two imbeciles chuckle at each other at the other end of the room, disturbing the quiet peace of the library. 

"so, y/l/n, you goin' to prom?" richie asks out of the blue, feigning innocence. you grip your pen tighter, knowing it's a trap. don't bite, y/n. don't bite. don't bite, don't bite, don't bite-  "it's a little soon to be thinking about prom." you say, trying to skirt around the issue. 

"it's okay, not everyone can get a date, you can still go with friends." he says, also trying to sound nonchalant. you snort, "like you could get a date either." 

bill laughs as he pulls out some homework, having finally decided to make good use of his time. "you can go together, then." bill mutters. stan huffs a laugh at that, too. "i have plans that night." you say immediately, eyes not leaving your paper as stan smirks at you in amusement. 

"no, yeah, y/n. let's go together." richie says, "i can meet the ol' pops and get to see your mom again. that reminds me, i can’t stop by to see her, so give her a big old kiss from me tonight, will ya?"  he asks with a wink. 

"is everything a joke to you?" you ask, trying to hide your irritation by acting bored. you ignore the feelings you get from his wink. 

"only funny things, doll." richie smiles, a crooked grin that, if you didn't know his personality, would make you swoon. it's suddenly no wonder to you why the people at this school always giggle and whisper and laugh with him; he's utterly gorgeous. 

"it's not your fault your mom likes me more than your dad." he jokes, chuckling to himself. "shut up, i'm trying to do homework." bill says, then promptly kicks him under the table, which you're grateful for because the pain that flashes across your face momentarily is concealed from richie's gaze as he winces and ducks down for a second. 

that shouldn't have hurt you because he's obviously just joking with you and doesn’t know, but since the tenseness in your house recently and the ugly divorce, things have just been extremely hard. you cannot stand his audacity; richie thinks he can say whatever he want and get excused because he's too damn pretty. you clench your fists. 

"y/n, i'll give you ten dollars to slap him." stan says, barely paying attention; a pen hangs from between his lips, brows furrowed as he works on your reassignment, eyes calculating. you think, for a moment, how nice it'd be to be real friends with stan. if not for richie. 

and for some reason, in that split moment, you don't think. you're pent up, angry at the world, at your teacher, at richie, at your parents, and because you can't be friends with stan because richie gets in the way of everything - and you whirl around, catching richie by surprise as you land a slap to his face that resonates throughout the whole library. a gasp sounds from somewhere behind you as the librarian startles out of her work. 

suddenly, four pairs of eyes are staring at you. 

you blink back, face feeling as warm as richie's red cheek looks. 

the librarian didn't hesitate to send you and richie to the principal's office, resulting in a suspension for you and richie alike, the two of you not meeting eyes in the waiting room outside the administrative offices. 

the subway trip and then consequential walk home was lonely, rainy, and dismal.

- - - 

besides your parents and your immediate friends, the only other person you told about the suspension was spiderman, when he came to see you on the roof that afternoon. you told him about richie, how you'd decked him for hitting a sore subject with you. 

"you know, he seems like a dick but... i bet he means well. i'm sure he does." is all spiderman had said, acting fidgety before leaving. despite that, it had still felt good to know you could trust him. 

the next monday at school is when you see richie again, face clean and clear of any evidence of your fist. 

you were walking home from school when you passed across the football field. he was with his friends on the turf, seemingly not getting on the subway yet. they're sprawled out, all seven of them, smoking cigarettes or playing a game of travel chess, one of them reading a book. there’s an empty can of coke, one of the glass bottles, filled with gross water and cigarette butts. stan sits with richie, beverly marsh laying with her head in his lap as she smokes, sunglasses red and blocking the sun. 

before you get too close, before they can notice, you snap a photo of them. they just look timeless. 

but then, as you put away your camera, richie sees you. you get ready for a fight; but what comes is just  sheffling feet and fingers fidgeting slightly. "y/n." he starts off with as he walks up to you, all by himself. 

you watch him, your own eyes flowing with guilt. "hey, richie." you say, trying to be better about controlling your attitude. "i wanted to say i'm sorry." he says, and you widen your eyes. he what?

"i sometimes don't know how to stop running my mouth, and i went too far. i usually do. and i'm sorry, i just want to start fresh." he says honestly. you swallow - something about his words, about the way he said selfish...

you shake your head, "no, i'm sorry too. i shouldn't have hit you." richie shrugs, "i deserved it, s’okay." 

it's quiet. 

"being friends is good." you say, shrugging. "as long as i can still tell you that i think you're acting like a three year old."  "as long as i still can act like one." he counters, grinning. and then he's shaking your hand and walking away. 

you feel better the rest of the day. 

- - - 

"you know, i'm a photographer." you whisper that same night in the dark.  "you are?" the boy in the suit next to you sounds genuinely shocked. you beam, "y-yeah, i actually got a few wicked shots of you from a few weeks ago."

"are you the one that's been selling my photos to all the papers?" he asks, and you laugh, head tilting toward the sky. "no, not me." he hums, a laugh escaping that doesn't sound like his usual voice he uses around you. you've accepted that spiderman's been hiding his identity and voice from you because you may recognize him. you've also decided that he's probably from midtown - but there are over seven thousand students at midtown, so chances are still slim. 

why is it that this boy, who you don't even know the name of, has captured your attention? why do you feel like kissing him all the time? 

“oh, here’s a shot i took.” you say, pulling out the photo you’d just finished developing in the dark room today. “couple days ago. i just finished developing it.” 

you show it to him, and you can’t tell his reaction at all. “it’s not really impressive, i just - they’re just some kids in my class, but... i don’t know, there’s something about them that i just really think should be made into art.” 

he’s quiet after that, but holds on to the photo hard enough that you’re worried it may wrinkle. 

“god, y/n-” he stops himself, voice cracking and nearing the closest you’ve ever heard it to being true to him. not the weird, batman garbage. 

“this is cool. you should- you should show them, i bet they’d like it.” 

you scoff, “no, they wouldn’t.” you take the photo back, fingers tracing richie’s face, the way his lips curl around a cigarette, the way his dark hair and eyebrows and eyelashes clash with his skin and clothes. you shake your head, “this is the boy i hit. when i got suspended. i don’t think he’d like this very much. probably call me a freak.” 

you meet his eyes - or, you suppose you do - and then his hand is hovering in front of your face, debating. you don’t dare move, and then he’s combing hair behind your ear, giving you chills that run down your spine.

you clear your throat, smiling softly as he moves his hand away.

spiderman doesn’t say much after that. 

it’s minutes until he speaks again. "shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?" he suddenly asks, and you sigh, beginning to pack up your things and gather your backpack. he follows you to the edge of the building and as you climb down the ladder to the fire escape, he webs himself and falls back, landing above you against the bricks when you stand up. 

you're nearly eye level now as he hangs upside down, listening to you rant. "-maybe i'll just walk to mary's place. it's not that far-" you cut yourself off as you're opening your window, eyes landing on the figure in your room, who looks just as confused as you. 

your eyes widen, "m-mom!" you say, alarmed as spiderman hangs next to you, just barely sealed from your mother's sight by the brick wall.

"is someone there with you, y/n?" she asks, tilting her head to get a look. you shake your head quickly, thankful that it's dark out and she can probably only see you, backlit by the lights from the alley below. she explains something about being unable to take you to your friend's house - and you nod along, willing for her to just leave. "that's okay, mom. i can take the subway." you say honestly. it's harder to drive around here, anyways. 

she finally leaves, and you let out a breath, unsure as to how she'd react to know you were with spiderman on the roof. you let out a small laugh, and so does he. 

"well, walking will be fine. she's just paranoid, and plus - i have you." you say, joking as you nudge his shoulder. but instead of laughing or going off the joke as he usually would, spiderman hums in agreement. 

"no matter what, you'll be safe. i promise." spiderman says from where he hangs upside down from the top edge of your fire escape, face almost level with yours. that makes your heart skip a beat, his words swirling around your stomach in a warm pool of comfort. 

you smile, "okay." you whisper. you believe it. 

then, before you slip into your window and he slips out into the night, you turn to him. you can only hope he's looking at you, the mask always leaving it to speculation.

 "can i try something? just once?" you ask, heart hammering in your chest as you step closer to him. he hesitates, and you wonder if he's biting his lips, or his cheek; if his eyes are wide or narrowed in thought. you wonder, for the thousandth time, what he looks like.

but eventually, it comes. "yes," he whispers.

gently, your fingertips find the edge of his mask down near his neck, and in the barely lit up corner of your fire escape you start to peel away his mask, revealing just his jaw, chin, and lips. goosebumps appear on his soft skin in the wake of your touch. 

you feel butterflies. 

his pale white skin reflects off the moonlight slightly, his jawline sharp as your fingers find their way across his skin, his mouth parting to take in a breath, lips full and red in the darkness. you wish you recognized these lips. 

in fact, a voice somewhere in you screams that you wish it was richie's lips. you abolish that thought before you have time to think about it.

you can tell he's nervous, but you don't know if it's because he doesn't trust you and thinks you're going to whip off his mask, or because he knows what you're about to do. you're pulled toward him by an invisible force, the kind that wishes and hopes and needs you to be closer to him, whoever he is. 

his jaw is structured and you feel it clench slightly under your hand as you cup his cheeks, barely raising on your tip toes as you near his upside-down face. you're not sure if he's breathing but, honestly, you know you aren't either. you just have to do this. so you close the gap. 

his lips are plush and less chapped than you'd expected, his presence warm and protecting and exuding bashfulness yet somehow also emanating confidence. he rises almost as the tide does at your grandma's old house in the east, tilting his head as your nose brushes against the skin on the side of his jaw. 

richie’s face flashes behind your closed eyes, and it makes you take in a sharp breath, realizing that yes, okay, maybe you do want to kiss richie. but you're not - you're kissing spiderman. you feel light, butterflies thrashing around. 

his hand, covered by his mesh suit's fabric, falls to the nape of your neck, upside down so his thumb rests right on the soft of your throat, where your heart thumps hard and quick against him. 

you swear you've never felt more like you're flying. you pull away after a few moments, your face burning even with the slight breeze. his hand stays on your neck for a split moment and then he lets it drop, returning to hold his web that keeps him suspended.

you watch with a small, shy smile as he bites his lip, containing what could only be the most beautiful smile you would ever see. you frown for a moment as you get that inkling again that you should know him. 

"please, what's your name?" you finally ask again. he had to trust you, right? you've had countless opportunities to pry, to rip his mask off, to find out yourself. but you want him to trust you with it, to want to tell you. 

his smile slowly fades, and yours does too. "can't you just tell me your name?" you whisper in desperate frustration. 

his mouth opens, then closes as if he decided against it. carefully, one hand pulls his mask back over his lips, concealing him once again as spiderman. the boy you finally knew for a mere minute is gone, probably forever. "i can't. i wish i could." 

"well, okay." you say, feeling heartbroken and frustrated. angry.  

"okay." it almost gets swallowed up by the breeze as you shut your window behind you. he's gone, swinging across streets and over buildings in the distance by the time you wipe your eyes of the tears. 

- - - -

you don't see spiderman the next week. 

it seems as though only knowing spiderman for a little longer than a month and suddenly not seeing him took more of a toll on you than you'd expected; you watch yourself go through the motions of each day with no complaint, barely any words, the world around you boring.

wake up, get ready, drink a breakfast shake, late for class, leave school, homework, wait on the rooftop for your friend who you know will never show. dinner. back on the rooftop. go to bed. 

you're about to leave school on friday when it hits you, the thing that has been missing from your regular school routine. and for some reason, not having been able to see him is just as painful as not seeing spiderman. 

richie. 

you don't know why you're feeling so emotional - or maybe it's just because as much as you hate each other, the fun rivalry you keep alive with him is what gets you through life at midtown. he keeps you on your toes. 

so you seek him out for what may be the first time in your life, just to find him out back on the turf in his usual spot with all his friends. 

"tozier." you call, halting all conversation with his group of losers as they cease their talking, staring up at you with seven pairs of owl eyes. you have no clue why you're nearly in tears. maybe, in an odd way, he's a replacement, a surrogate. for a friend that you'll never see again. and you're furious at both of them.

"where the fuck have you been?" you ask. 

you watch in slight surprise as the color drains from his face, eyes widening in shock. you didn't expect him to have this reaction, in fact - you came here to pick a fight, to get the opposite of... this. richie looks as if he's been caught in the biggest lie of his life, and it's unsettling. 

he seems to shake off whatever the fuck that emotion was he just had as he stutters, "what-what do you mean?" 

you scowl at him, " did you just give up? that easy, huh? i thought you were better than that." 

richie, for a split second, looks like he might get sick, or cry. it just makes you more confused and, for some reason, more angry. for no reason. "y/n, how did you find-" 

"it's been silent in the halls, tozier. i don't know if i should be thankful or weirded out that you decided to mature overnight. you being nice to me, not being a freak... it's weird, but it's... when i said i was done with your shit and you asked to be friends, i didn't mean that i wanted you to ignore me." 

he blinks his owlish eyes at you, "OH." he states loudly, pressing his fingers to his temples as he shakes his head, "christ, i thought- nevermind. you missed me that much, doll?" he tries to ease back into his teasing attitude but you can tell it's forced. and you don't know why. his friends suddenly all look relieved too, as if they know something big that you don't. 

"forget it. this was so stupid." you mutter, walking past them briskly, barely even catching stan's eye. you don't cry until you get on the subway. 

that night, you almost didn't go up onto the roof. 

why should you? spiderman wasn't your friend anymore, he clearly got scared away when you kissed, or when you asked him who he was. it hurts, you think as you look at the dark skyline of queens, it hurts that he won't trust you with something as simple as a name. 

but you're still up there, staring at the cloudless sky and thinking of the taste of those lips as a whoosh, thud and a groan jolt you from your tranquil misery. 

you don't believe your eyes at first, but when the figure stumbles toward you, arm reaching to its neck, you definitely recognize him. "h-hey?" you say nervously, squinting against the dying light to try and see why spiderman's bent like that, stumbling to you, until he falls nearly at your feet. 

you gasp as you get a closer look; it's hard to see with the red of his suit, but he's got a fair blood stain coming out of his neck area, a slash through the neck that leads towards the collarbone. it's not fatal, and probably won't need stitches, but it sure looks like he's in a lot of pain. 

"y-your neck is bleeding." you say, eyes wide in a panic, "are-are you, do i need to get you to a hospital?" you rush, heart thumping. the boy shakes his head, though that clearly causes him pain. "my wounds- they'll regenerate quick enough. do you-do you have bandages?" he asks, and you nod aggressively, running a hand through your hair. "yes, let's go to my room." you say, trying to stay as calm as he is. with a lot of effort and sharp cries of pain, you finally make it into your room through the window on the fire escape, gently helping spiderman to your bed. 

you allow yourself ten seconds in your bathroom to gather your breaths and thoughts before taking the first aid kit and rushing back to the bleeding boy, whose name is still a mystery. 

your hands are shaking as you undo the box, and his hands suddenly fall against yours and squeeze. you look to him then, willing for the tears of fear to dry up and go away. "it's okay." he says, and then you feel even more rotten because spiderman is hurt in your bed and you're still making him comfort you. 

"no-i know. you just surprised me, is all." you trail off, pulling your hands from his to pull out antiseptic ointment, cleaning wipes and swabs. "what- um, what happened?" 

"mugging, guy had a knife. i was trying to get the purse from his hands and he slashed me. it's really not-" he coughs a bit, a fresh squeeze of blood seeping into the fabric. "-not bad. honest." 

you shake your head, looking at him. "i have to take off your mask." you say solemnly. "or else it'll get bad. infected, or- heal into the mask." 

he nods lightly, "i know." is all he says. his voices is laced with nerves. 

your hands are still shaky when you reach to pull up the mask. he makes no attempt to move except to shift himself on your bedspread. you slowly peel the mask, eyes focused on the wound and not on the boy's face. but then, you can't help it. when the mask slips off, the boy's eyes are screwed tight. 

but your breath catches in your throat when you take in his face. 

it's richie. 

of course it is. you press your lips together, forcing yourself to focus on his wound and not all the thoughts swirling in your mind. you don’t talk to each other, one out of anger and one out of pain, and he grips your arm, hand warm on your skin.

you can barely focus as you go to work on his wound, but you’re glad that by the time you’re almost finished, your anger has ebbed away and you’re strangely calm. 

you don't meet eyes until you've got his cut cleaned out and you're satisfied it won't get infected. his eyes are nervous, anxious, scared. yours are surprisingly calm, and almost emotionless. 

"hi, doll." he says, eyes no longer screwed shut, neither out of pain nor anxiety over revealing his identity. 

"do your friends know?" is all you ask. he gives you a curt not as you shakily wrap the gauze around the nape of his neck, figuring a bandaid would come right off. his hand falls from your arm as you move it around his head. 

"i had all them, but i wanted to see you." 

his words send warm waves through your body and you bite your lip.

"why didn't you tell me? the other night?" you ask shortly, knowing that fighting won't get you anywhere. 

“look, i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, i really am. but slipping the fact that i developed spider-like superhuman abilities into an ‘are we friends or do we hate each other’ conversation is pretty fuckin' difficult.” he defends. 

you nod, because, after consideration, you think you would have probably done the same. "okay. if your friends know, why didn't you..."  you don't know how to phrase it. 

"why didn't i go to one of them?" he sighs, sitting up as you finish clasping the gauze. he rubs his eyes and you realize you're not used to him without glasses - does he even need those anymore? his eyes are so blue, so warm. his eyelashes are long. 

"i missed you. or, i - i don't know, i just... i needed to show you. to tell you. i was afraid to put you in danger but you deserve to know.” he says, honestly.  

you hum, flicking a piece of rubble from his shoulder and then using that as an excuse to run your hands over the material there, feeling his muscles under your touch. "and you had to get stabbed to work up the courage?" you tease. 

he beams, despite himself. and it's beautiful. 

"how else could i get your attention, doll? i tried everything else." 

you shake your head, huffing a bit. "can't believe you let me kiss you." you bury your face in your hands, feeling hot and embarrassed. "i'm sorry you had to do that." you squeak out, mortified. 

it's quiet, and then, "i would do it again." 

you look at him, from where you sit - both so close, almost touching... his breath almost hits your face. "really?" he looks at you like you've grown three heads. "yes." he deadpans, "obviously. why else could i have been spending so much time with you?" 

you laugh, tilting your head back. "so you only want me for my lips?" you joke even though you're nervous. richie groans, hands tangling in his nest of windswept curls. it's charming and it makes your stomach flutter. 

"y/n, don't make this so hard." he begs. unable to help yourself, you perk up, "that's what she said-" you start, but then richie kisses you for the second time. 

he's nearly crashing into you, lips finding yours desperately through his own smile of disbelief - that you'd said that, or that he's kissing you? you don't care as you kiss back, hands finding purchase on his chest or in his hair. 

then he's regaining his strength as your tongue finds his and he nudges you over, rolling so he lays above you. you pull him between your hips as he bites your lip gently and then moves on to kiss your neck, filling you with heat and butterflies. 

"i'm sorry i didn't tell you sooner." he whispers into the shell of your ear as he bites a soft mark on your upper throat, and you sigh. "god, it-it's fine-" 

but then it's too late, because your bedroom door flies open.

startled,  you and richie break apart, eyes wide and lips bruised; blood staining his spiderman suit as he lays on top of you, your legs fastened around his hips and your hands tinged with his blood and sweat, both of you breathing wildly. 

your mom stands in front of you, eyes wide and mouth agape in near horror - spiderman in bed with you. "hello, ma'am." richie breathes out and you resist the urge to smother yourself with a pillow. 

"just... keeping your daughter safe, y'know, friendly neighborhood spiderman."

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[sirensmojo]

"KINDRED",5 - Tommy Shelby x Reader (x Alfie Solomons).

Warnings: Alfie is a warning, mention of abduction, swearing, guns, fluff & slight angst at the end.

Summary: You're an ex war-nurse reconverted as the leader of a feminist organisation. You join forces with the leader of the backstreet Birmingham gang, Thomas Shelby, to cut the head of the Fascist serpent, Oswald Mosley.

Word Count: 5K+

AN: Gina's family is totally OC as we know nothing about her in the show / POV alternate between characters' and Y/N's.

*Masterlist*

❰ ​Previous Chapter

*Margate, Solomons’ residence*

“Alfie!” You exclaimed. You were wearing a white woollen coat with fur around your neck, the same coloured futrzane at the top of your head flattening your finger-waved hair on each part of your face.

Under the woollen coat, you wore a light brown satin dress covering your full body with white high heels. Your look wouldn’t be complete without your blue stones jewellery collection of necklace and earrings. Your golden rings complimented her fingers above one of your white lace gloves.

That was the sound of your heels that made the man turn his head, his mind was elsewhere and he didn’t hear your call.

“Eh, eh, eh. Who that might be, huh, none other than Y/L/N.” He muttered to himself, squinting his eyes looking towards you.

You got closer to him and met with a frowning maid that looked at you with envy at the back of her eyes. You offered her a genuinely warm smile that let your white teeth out, which confused the maid.

“Glad to see you’re still breathing, Captain.” You reached to him.

You were always seemed to be open and all heart with women whereas you were the opposite with men.

“And what you be doing here, love? Thought I left you back in the smoke, innit?”

“Well I’m here Alfie, that war’s done, but there’s another one coming.” Y/N said outright. You stopped in front of him, took off the glove free of rings and passed your fingers through his hair, down to his cheek. Alfie remained silent as Y/N's fingers sprinkled his skin with sparks.

You grabbed his chin between your index and thumb, moving his head to the side, you were examining the damage that has been done to his right eye. “I met him.” You solemnly let out.

He already knew who you were referring to.

“He a fucking bookmaker, what you have with him?” He innocently let out, which made you chuckle a bit as you sat down on the sofa in front of him.

You clicked your tongue before slowly putting back your glove. “I love you, Alfie. There’s no bad blood between us but you know me. So don’t fucking try me.” Your threat was covered with an implied mention of your intertwined past, so you would reason with him with both reason and sentiment.

He grabbed the binoculars laying down next to him and raised it vertically towards the sea. “Fucking birds making noise all day annoying my peace of mind... If our mate didn’t shoot me I’ll be shooting ‘em, you know.”

“He was here before me, so you know he entered politics, Alfred.”

He glanced at you hearing his full name on your lips. No one but you ever called him that, and he had forgotten that habit of yours.

“I mean, he would’ve shot me anyway, right. But aiming right is free, innit?” He looked away. “Even at night, they be fucking screaming, mate. Try sleeping in some fucking screaming box.”

“You have trouble sleeping?” You snapped back, interested, catching the man's attention. He knew exactly what you were referencing to, shared memories about sharing beds during war.

“Not like that.” He got back to looking in his binoculars, choosing not to go on to that path.

“Not like that, huh?” You raised your brows at him, he had opened the gates and shall have what he asked for.

You let your coat fall on your arms, showing your naked shoulders and tilted your head. “We could still work it, like good old times, eh?” You teased the man, your Y/E/C piercing eyes not leaving his face.

Alfie didn’t even look at you. “Where’s your gun, Y/N?” He asked, presenting his palm to you, waiting. “Care to give it here for a sec?”

And without even thinking twice you grabbed your little gun from your shoulder holster under your coat and placed it in Solomon’s hand. You were watching his movements as he cocked the gun and aimed something outside the house you surmised to be the birds he was talking about.

“Thought you’d hand me one of your rifles, mad deceived ‘am now” He followed the targets with the gun without daring to shoot.

“War’s over, Alfie.” You put back on your coat and lit a cig before leaning backwards on the sofa, making yourself comfortable.

“Came in here telling me some war coming, now telling me it’s done…Come on, pick a struggle, love” He grumbled to himself as shifting his position.

“I lied. Actually, the war’s already here, and I have both feet in.” You raised your brows, smoking your cig.

“Me none.”

“Not yet.” You snapped back, getting up. “Look, Alfred. Margate’s not doing you any justice. Get back in business, come back to London.” You encouraged him. “You didn’t welcome me when I set foot in town. Didn’t even kiss me ‘bonjour’ *talking french* (=hello). I need my Captain back.” Your voice lowered on the last part as if you were pouting.

“Did you ever put your palm on one eye, eh? When child, you do that to see if life is any different seen by one eye or the other. You cover one eye with your palm and look fucking far away, yea. I used to do that often, you?” He stops what he was doing to glance at you, that was standing near him.

“No.”

“Well, life’s fucking different. Yeah” He nodded to himself confirming his story. “It really is, one eye doesn't show what you see with the other. I’m fucking blind, now. Can only see one side of life, can’t I?” He turned to you, staring. Under his confusing metaphor, he was talking common sense, and it wasn’t difficult for you to decrypt his code as you knew the character.

What he was saying was simple, the experience with Tommy & the Italians made him insensible to the things that used to interest him before. Business and power weren’t things he cared about now.

You silently nodded before sitting right next to him. You put a palm onto one of your eyes and looked to the sea, searching for the screaming birds. Once you found one, you rushed your hand under your dress, to the inside of your thighs, your hand came out with another gun that you pointed straight forward before shooting.

A bird’s helpless scream was heard before Alfie’s mouth opened. “Damn, woman. You still got this.”

“You just gotta picture what’s behind the black spot, Alfred. You fucking draw the lines in your head, because you’ve seen them. They’re here, somewhere in your mind, you just gotta draw them.” You muttered to his ear and he let out an “Um.” before trying to also shoot a bird.

(...)

When Y/L/N's foot touched the gravels of Small Heath’s ground, each women’s head turned to her as a disturbing silence spread over the crowd. She got out of the car when Lizzie opened her mouth, catching the attention of Polly, “He’s fucking her.” She spat with disgust, her eyes filled with jealousy and fear of losing Thomas once again.

Once a month, the peaky girls joined the reunion of women in Small Heath’s streets. This meeting's purposes were to one, show men that women, too, could gather, and second, to scare the institutions and politics about the numbers of women ready to fight for their rights. It was originally organized by Jessie Eden, a communist & feminist leader, but quickly was taken over by Y/F/N and her organisation.

Deleting the "communist" part of this meeting surely helped women gathered even more as they knew they weren’t directly taking sides in political matters, so the risk of getting arrested was low.

Polly’s eyes went from Lizzie to Y/N, who was shaking hands with some women wearing a soft smile along with a determined gaze. “Saw her once, going out of Tommy's office.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes. “Every woman he be fucking went to his office.” She seemed fed-up, one of her feet angrily taping the ground back and forth.

“What business does Tommy have with a feminist?” Pol’ utterly murmured to herself, frowning. What was her surprise when she recognized the other woman coming out of the car, being none other than Ada.

The Thorne, initially Shelby woman, stood right next to Y/N, her brown hat set down on her finger waved hair. She wore her cream woollen coat with fur on her neck and ends of sleeves with pale rose heels. Her nails were bordeau-painted and complimented the red of her lips.

Polly never thought of Ada being interested in anything but communism, but here her niece was, and the thing that hit the Gray woman the most was that Ada seemed to belong there, talking to women and shamelessly shaking their hands. She wasn’t as reserved and distant as she usually was when around people.

“Let’s get out of here.” Polly started to walk away.

Lizzie frowned, “No reunion today?” She seemed relieved, she will not have to face the blonde woman that troubled her most lately.

“No reunion today.” Pol responded. She didn’t want to learn anything from Ada’s activities by spying, but she’ll surely try to draw it out of her later.

(...)

“You what?”

“Ada, sit.” You motioned to the nearest chair.

After the reunion, they both went to the house you bought for the organisation. It wasn’t big, nor elegant. It was a simple Small Heath’s house reconverted in an office.

If you wanted to stand a chance in changing the traditional standards toward women’s place in society, you needed to expand your organisation. You would put cabinets at each corner of the streets if needed. Women needed to know they stood a chance, they needed to know they weren’t alone in their battle and they needed to know they are protected, and that part, you made sure to honour.

“No, I’m not going to fucking sit. You didn’t talk about abducting somebody’s daughter, Y/N!”

Even if you didn’t have the police in your pocket, Tommy did, and their deal gave you the assurance you'll be able to run your business the way you wanted to. It was always better to have someone else command people to leave you alone than you using your high social status to get what you wanted. This way, if things went bad, it wouldn’t be you that’ll take the blame.

You sighed while raising your brows at Ada’s reaction. You pulled out your cigarette case and lit one that you handed her. Thorne took it and went to sit on the sofa, leaning her back to get comfortable.

“Damn, you’re just like him.” Ada let out, glancing at you who let out a “Huh?” of confusion.

You were intently looking at her as she also seated on the couch in front of you. You ignited yourself a cig and puffed on it, waiting for the other woman to process the information of you abducting Gina Gray.

“It’s like I’m in a meeting with Tommy.” She sighed. “It’s always about business and I can’t read him.”

In other words, you didn’t need Tommy to keep the police away from your activities, you could do it yourself if you wanted to. But taking care of this yourself meant to jeopardize each person in your organisation, and you couldn’t afford to risk it all.

“I saw you leaving the library with one of my women.” You blatantly let out, smoking your cig.

Ada frowned and shifted her position, she was uncomfortable. “She’s interested in communism.” She tried to defend herself as her cheeks reddened.

“I’m not judging you, I’m showing you it’s not always about business.”

“I was talking about you, not me.”

“This organisation is me, Ada, and you’re in it now. I know everything I need to know about it and I do everything I need to do for it.” You leaned towards the brown-haired woman.

In fact, it wasn’t at all about the expensive jewellery, nor the luxurious heels. It was about you having a family you cared about even if your kin weren’t blood-related.

Even if Ada understood what the woman in front of her meant, she couldn’t help but to roll her eyes, she heard this speech many times before, upon her brother’s lips. “Yeah, totally Tommy.” She tilted her head to the side. “You’re always avoiding the subject when I talk about him.”

“He’s not my business.”

“Lizzie would argue otherwise.” Ada raised a brow at you, meaning she knew what happened when you and Lizzie first met in Tommy’s office.

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“What is it between my brother and you?” She asked.

“You’re bored, Ada. That’s why you want the details. Get back with that woman you found and spend time together, huh?” You dismissed the Shelby woman. And this time, Ada scoffed because Tommy once told her the exact same thing about her being bored.

You gained composure again and straightened back up, “You with me on that or what?” Your tone suddenly went serious again, and Ada’s expression changed.

“Why do you ask about my opinion, don’t you like giving orders all the time?” Ada teased the Y/E/C eyed woman. Y/L/N liked that about the Shelby sister, she was always pushy without being aware.

“Stop being petty, Ada. You’re more of a thinker rather than a doer.” She dismissed the remarks.

“So why do you want my help in the first place?” Ada pondered, confusion in her eyes. The things Y/N struggled to understand was how Ada didn’t see the potential that resided in her. She would always diminish herself and her power for some reason when Y/L/N thought of her as a force of nature that begged to shine.

“I just need that pettiness and fearlessness of yours. Like a kind of representative.”

“Of you?”

You shook your head. “Representative of the organisation.”

“It’s Michael’s wife and I’m a Shelby, meaning she’s family.”

“You’re a Thorne, Ada. And these fucking people out here don’t give a fuck whose side you’re on. They’ll kill you whenever they get the occasion to. I know you don’t like this, but it’s a Shelby I need on this field.” You were pointing your index at the windows, leaning toward Ada.

“You know Gina's people?” Ada exclaimed, raising her hands in exasperation.

You tilted your head to the side to confirm, your eyes deeply in Shelby’s.

“Am a Thorne or a Shelby on the field?” Ada raised a brow to you.

“Both are strengths.”

(...)

You were sitting at the counter of the Garrison, sharing a drink with Arthur when the doors opened on Tommy. You didn’t see him come your way, but Arthur did. He glanced at his brother and grabbed his own drink before joining people elsewhere ignoring your presence.

You looked at him, frowning, and that’s when you turned around you noticed Tommy’s presence. You rolled your eyes at him. “You like to scare off my dates?” You sat back down, sipping on your drink.

“I like the dress,” Tommy said, ordering a whiskey. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, but God knows it was because of the look he gave you while entering the pub that Arthur went away.

“Yeah?” You questioned quite surprised Tommy noticed you weren’t dressed as usual. “It’s different from the suits.” You added, seeing he wasn’t going to pursue the conversation.

The blue-eyed man glanced at Y/N's drink. “You drink rum now?” He grabbed his cigarette case and ignited one before handing it to the woman that gladly took it, a smile on her lips. He lit another one for himself.

“You’re alcoholic enough to tell the difference between whiskey and rum without tasting it?” Your suave voice made him look at you as clenching his jaw at your remark, this was all you would get from him.

“I’ve met with Mr Solomons, I thought it was the least I could do to buy some bottles of his.” Tommy’s eyes that were staring at Y/N's lips went up in a hurry when hearing her confession.

“You did what?” Thomas turned so his body faced the woman, his eyes anchored deeply in hers.

He was never so sure about your intentions, nothing was ever sure with you, whereas it was your feelings or what was in your head. And your unreadable face didn’t help a bit.

“I’m drinking rum, now.” You raised your brows at him, cheerfully.

The warmth your smile ignited in him wasn’t enough to make him forget about what you just said. Tommy’s lids fluttered as he remained silent, blankly looking at you. He was aware you thought of Alfie to run the south, as well as himself, but he didn’t expect you to be so direct and visit Alfie Solomons that fast.

“Stop looking at me like that, Tommy. You knew about Alfred and me.”

A wave of questions flowed through his mind, from the tender tone you worded Solomon’s name to the hidden message behind your words. What did you mean by he and you? Something was screaming at him that your relationship went beyond business at a certain point.

His brows raised. “Alfred, eh?” He scoffed, turning back to the counter, puffing on his cig.

He suddenly remembered the war records, informations hitting him like thunderbolts. You were in the same section. Alfie was the Captain of a battery in the artillery where you were sent. You knew each other.

“I also made him talk about the little arrangement you didn’t tell me about.” You let out dismissively. You weren’t blaming him for not telling you he asked Solomons to send his men to create a riot when Mosley will do his speech, you simply voiced your surprise. You thought he trusted you and were deceived to discover that he, in fact, did not.

A minute that seemed to last centuries passed, and you glanced at him. You were silently smoking as he was deep in his thoughts, not even looking at you.

“Well, it seems I’m not aware, no.” His voice was deep and he coughed before drinking his whiskey, his icy eyes looking straight forward to him.

You squinted your eyes in confusion before realizing he didn’t listen to you, he was still on that Alfred thing.

“You don’t listen to me.” You got up, blankly looking at him.

Tommy feigned not to see you, but when you raised a hand to his that was leading his cup to his mouth, a shiver ran down his spine in anticipation.

Even if he wanted to ignore you or how you made him feel, his body betrayed him.

You tenderly grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm towards you. Your piercing eyes met with his cold ones, as you dangerously neared your face.

Y/N ended up connecting the tip of their nose before slowly teasing his lips with hers. He was looking into your soul hidden in your iris and you were doing the same, you were the same.

You might be using flirt along with charm to get what you wanted from men, but with Thomas, it wasn’t the same. He had the exact same hold on you that you had on him, and both could feel it when in an intimate moment.

Their intimacy wasn’t simply about sex, a hunger due to an innate desire or need, no. It began the minute they would shamelessly dive into the being of the other. When he was undressing your soul with the most usual look.

You ultimately sealed your pleading lips together, considering they stayed apart for too long. Their warm breaths intertwined as both of you forgot everything around you, this moment belonged to no other than you, this instant was yours.

You could pretend you weren’t emotionally involved as long as you wanted when alone. But you couldn’t lie when in front of him. You didn’t feel the need to. You could just be yourself, it was more than enough there, at the mercy of his fingers.

Out of breath you pulled away, you opened your eyes to Tommy’s one looking straight at you again, and that made you laugh. He couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your rare giggles.

Nothing needed to be said when your eyes were connected, as well as nothing needed explanation when your lips were sealed, you were him and he was you. The urge of feeling your inner worlds collide again, Y/N came kissing him some more, to Tommy’s greatest pleasure.

“I know about using Alfie's men.” You murmured without leaving his lips, and he nodded slightly.

“I knew you would find it one way or another.” He answered. One of his hands went to your back as he was fondling you with his thumb above the fabric, he pulled you closer to him as your fingers were passing over his lips in a tender way.

You hit his chest with your other hand, realizing he wittingly kept his deal with Alfie from you just so you would get a little mad. It was his way of teasing you about the fact you cared.

He was purring under your touch when the doors opened. Polly’s eyes directly dropped on Tommy and the librarian before quickly glancing around the pub, meeting with Arthur’s. They both marked a pause and looked back to the two bill & cooing birds...

It wasn’t Tommy’s type to be that open about his relationship with a woman, but Polly already knew what was in his mind. He was convincing himself it was solemnly business, as with the other women he works with, but she knew he was starting to fall in love without even noticing it.

You both got back to reality and pulled away when Pol walked to you, going back to your respective drinks as if nothing happened. She placed herself in between you two, forcing you to take a step aside.

Tommy coughed, looking into his drink as if there was the most interesting thing in there as Y/N grabbed her things, she then started to walk away. And without even looking back, she passed the Garrison’s door.

Polly was staring at Thomas, her words useless in this situation. He glanced towards her and quickly went back to drinking, he wasn’t going to have that conversation with her.

It was Arthur, coming back to the counter that brought up the previous display between his brother and the librarian, “See Polly, my brother got another singing bird.” He was smiling before encountering Tommy’s eyes telling him to shut up, making his smile fade.

“And what you think it is, Thomas? Business?” Her deep trembling voice made him close his eyes a long time as he sighed. “It is love, Arthur.” She glanced at the man behind the counter. “You’re brother’s in love.” She continued, leaning to Tom, dramatically making him know in what he trapped himself.

He opened back his eyes and firmly dropped his fist on the wooden board in a thud, coughing away her words.

The Peaky Blinders head drank from his drink before quickly glancing to the doors you passed minutes ago, lost in thoughts. And as he was sure to think with his head, Polly knew he was thinking with his heart.

(...)

The man was walking slowly, each of his steps was heavy as the whistling escaping from his lips echoed on the concrete walls.

Ada that was on the other side of the wooden door looked through the window, trying not to overthink this situation. Since her first day as a book counsellor under the management of Y/N's organisation, she was never given major tasks. Rather kept at the very back of everything illegal.

But these past few days, she noticed Y/N was taking her to the important reunions, and Y/N's right hand, Ana, had been ordered to introduce Ada to “the work” as Y/L/N called it.

She didn’t know why it was her that had to meet with Gina’s father as Y/N was the one knowing what she needed from him, but Thorne kept away any negative thoughts, focusing on what needed to be done.

The door opened and a tall man entered. He was wearing a creamy long jacket, beige pants. Under the jacket, Ada glimpsed a shirt topped by a Roman collar similar to the priests’. His arms were crossed in his back.

He was pretty imposing, with large shoulders. Even under the fabrics, his browny chest and body could be seen.

Her gaze went up to his face, encountering his deep hazel coloured eyes staring straight at her. He got little eyes, their corner dropping as if he was sad. But she knew this type of man didn’t feel that emotion. Even if his iris were warm coloured, his gaze was cold, almost as if he wasn’t alive anymore, his eyes didn’t shine, they were glassy.

All those informations made Ada nervously gulp, continuing to examine the man’s face.

He had thick straight brows and he wore his brown curly hair slick on the side, one curl falling down his forehead.

He didn’t close the door behind him and walked to her until he was inches away. “You’re not Y/N.” His deep hoarse voice worded. And his remark made her instantly roll her eyes at him.

“Just sat, already. Can I offer you a drink?” Of course, she wasn’t Y/N, if he knew her, he would know it wasn’t as simple as that to meet with her.

“I don’t drink.” He squinted his eyes.

“Well, I do.” She turned to the counter to pour herself some whiskey and gladly started to sip on it as going to sit down. On his side, the man was walking in the room, stopping himself from time to time to examine the objects and frames he was surrounded by. “Is this your house?” He was fidgeting with a woman’s body paperweight.

“Your daughter doesn’t seem to be delighted by the fact you’re here.” She let facing him head-on.

He turned to her as she was staring at his face fearlessly. He delicately dropped the paperweight and went sitting down in the armchair in front of the brown-haired woman that followed his every move with her gaze.

“How’s your son? Mrs--” He feigned to search for her last name, but Ada knew he wanted her to understand that whoever she might be, he could get to her and her family if he decided to.

Of course, it wasn’t Ada’s house, but everything was made to make him believe so. They put some of her personal photographs with her son along with other personal effects.

“Thorne. Ada Thorne. And my son’s alright.”

This way, he will think he has the advantage over her, and if he wants to try anything, this is this house that will be targeted. But in fact, this house was one of the many business properties Y/L/N owned in the neighbourhood.

“Oh my.” He chuckled, raising his brows. “She got political alliances.” He crossed his legs and leant backwards in the chair, his arms laying on each of the armrests.

“You’re interested in politics Mr Rice?”

The man gave a faint smile hearing she knew about him more than he knew about her.

“Everything’s politics, Mrs Thorne.” He raised his gaze to her. He wasn’t being pushy or aggressive, but the atmosphere around him was heavy. His presence made her uncomfortable, and if she wasn’t a Shelby, she’d be unable to face him and stand the stare.

She nodded to him, thinking he answered right.

“I’m no longer in business, Y/L/N knows that very well. I left my brother in charge, it is him you need to see.” He was choosing his words meticulously, and each sentence he spoke was filled with unsaid things.

Not only was he implying that Y/N might be incompetent cause she picked the wrong guy, but he underlined the fact it was a family business, meaning abducting his daughter, wasn’t the best idea.

For a second, she thought her boss may have committed an error by forcing this Mr Rice to come to England, but she was quick to understand he was trying to destabilize her.

“Did you come all the way from Chicago to tell me I need to address another man? Wouldn't it be more intelligent to tell that in a call? ” She raised a brow, and now she was the best match for this meeting.

The man remained silent as he was smiling again, understanding his strategy will not work with her.

“It’s not about a man, not your brother, not you. It’s about Gina, your daughter, using your own methods to manipulate her husband to take control of something bigger than her, something she couldn’t even manage to take care of if she succeeds at having it. But we both already know, in reality, it’s your brother using her.” She returned him his evil smile before tilting her head. Her words sounded like bombs in the man’s ears. Acknowledging the fact his brother might use Gina for his own needs made Mr Rice gritted his teeth as one of his hands clenched into a fist.

He had been trying to get into her head, manipulating her into believing their actions were useless and that nothing could be done about the plan his daughter and Michael had. But being a Shelby as well as a Thorne, Ada knew how to handle those types of people.

“Well, you saw right through me. I see now why Y/N chose you.” He raised both his hands in admittance of his defeat.

Even if the man in front of her seemed harmless, she didn’t want to stay alone with him any longer. He was peculiar, from the way he was standing to his aura, she knew Gina's father was a weasel. She could read in his eyes he was lurking for the moment she'd let down her guard to get to her.

“Now you will meet with her.” Ada decided it was the end of this interview, surprising herself into taking such a decision. Maybe Y/N wanted her to do something more?

She gasped when getting up, which helped her get her mind clear. She understood her role was to make him realize he wouldn’t escape until they have what they wanted from him.

She went to the table, writing an address, a day and an hour on a piece of tissue paper. She then walked to the bearded man and handed him the fabric.

“Now business can begin…” She paused, keeping him from taking the paper. He glanced at her, sighing. “And leave your shenanigans at the door for this meeting, bring your will to cooperate instead... She way worse than me.”

(...)

*Shelby Company Limited*

Tommy opened the door to his office, he intended to walk towards his desk when hearing a low voice. “Arthur asked whose side I’m on.”

He turned around to a curled up Polly in the chair at the corner of his dark office. She wasn’t facing him, her body was halfway turned, as well as her face, leading her to look at him with side-eyes.

He didn't need to ask her what she was talking about. Since the meeting where Michael offered to run the business family, taking Tommy's place, she was distant, as if thinking about her son's proposal.

Tom surmised tonight was the time she'll give her final answer.

It was raining, the wind violently slapped the windows as well as the raindrops, the outside storm perfectly reflecting the conflictual atmosphere settled between the two. The climate deprived the office of any light, but a shy desk lamp faintly illuminated the place.

He took off his black gloves, throwing them on the table separating them. He then sighed and went sitting on the chair, raising his gaze to her, waiting for her to continue to speak.

“There will be a war, and one of you will die.” Her deep trembling voice along with the lapping of the rain on the windows added to the dramatic atmosphere.

Tommy sighed, he knew she was right. He was, indeed, waiting for a war. “But which one I cannot tell.” Her black eyes were staring straight into Tommy’s blue one.

He let out a “Hum.” surmising she’ll not add anything else. He nodded to himself, “he’s gonna do it anyway.” he continued. It wasn’t a question, this would explain her presence in his office that late in the night.

“Yeah.” She responded.

“You should know, if Aberama takes his side I will kill him.” Tommy said upfront.

She looked down before raising her gaze to him again, “And what about me?” She wasn’t blinking, patiently waiting for the confirmation of Tom’s determination to stop her son.

Tom paused, he was aware she was trying to know his intention and he was debating within himself if he could afford to let her know.

“I’ll do what I have to do, Pol” He dropped his definite sentence, he didn’t move his stare or body a bit. He didn’t need to let her know how determined he was, it was already showing.

“Kill… And kill.” She sang with a low voice, slowly blinking. She seemed tired of this situation, as well as tired of it all.

“It’s the only way to make people listen” He nodded his head to the side as murmuring his words.

Since her near-death experience with the noose, she wasn’t the same Polly that he knew. She was only a mere shadow to the person she once was. But this time she seemed truly fed-up.

The thunder was rumbling outside when she got up with slow movements. The sound of her high heels nearing him mixed with the sound of the rain racing down the windows.

She grabbed an envelope as well as her drink. “Soon, you will have a stage to stand on. Millions of people will listen to you. And you will run the country like you run this family.” Her head was held high.

She was looking down on Tommy.

He knitted his brows, holding the stare even if he had to raise his head to meet her. “It appears to be what people want.” He nodded to himself, trying to convince him, or her of what he was saying.

“But not me.”

He blinked.

“Not anymore.”

He blinked again.

“My resignation.” She concluded while dropping the envelope on the table before him. She also put down the empty cup and looked at him some more before turning her back at him and walk toward the exit.

He stared at the empty space in front of him where the woman used to stand prior as he heard her steps receding. Tommy inhales deeply before sighing, dropping his head forward. Her words hit him as bullets would’ve. She was the only thing that kept him from losing his mind. Polly had always been more to him than what he ever showed, and the fact she let him down now did hurt him.

Tommy grabbed his gun from his shoulder holster under his suit jacket and looked at it while exhaling. He moved his hand, turning the gun on both sides, looking at it as looking at a let-out.

Nothing would stop him from founder now. He could embrace his demons and play how he wanted.

Following Chapter ❱

[nonbinary-kaz]

Fuckt Up Lil Bros Intro:

a fic that won't get finished so I'm putting it here

When Wylan was eight, his father had finally gotten fed up with him, and had packed Wylan and his mother into a car and taken them to see a specialist. His mother had argued the whole way there, saying Wylan would learn to read when he felt like it, that the strange outbursts would end eventually. After all, Wylan was a child! Children were unpredictable, at best, she’d said. Stubborn. His father had growled something under his breath, along the lines of Wylan being less stubborn and more of a problem.

Then they had walked away from the specialist hours later, and his father berated his mother, throwing all those words she’d said back in her face. Wylan didn’t quite understand, especially not when his father had slammed the car door shut and called Wylan something that Wylan wouldn’t realise until much later was a disgusting, horrible word. His mother had already known, and she had hissed at him to not say such things.

“He’s our son,” she’d said.

“Not mine,” his father had said. “Not if he’s like this. My genes wouldn’t pass this on.”

“Jan Van Eck,” she snapped.

“Your father was always strange,” he said. “Maybe this is from him.”

“I don’t care who this came from,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. He’s still your son. None of this matters.”

“How can this not matter?” he demanded. “He can’t read, Marya. He’s socially inept, and he will evidently remain so for the rest of his life. He’s not normal. He’s not right.”

And she had murmured something lowly and dangerously, something Wylan couldn’t hear from the back. It had shut his father up, though.

Wylan was both too young to understand and too old not to understand words like “dyslexia” and “autism” and “severe anxiety” and whatnot. Looking back on it, it didn’t matter if he knew what it was or not. All that had mattered was the noticeable change in his father’s behaviour to him.

That had also been when all the therapies started. Physical, to get him over how awkward his body was. Occupational, to stop him from getting upset about “minor things.” Speech, in hopes that it would help the reading. Tutoring, because that should have helped the reading. Drugs, to stop him from being timid all of the time.

He hadn’t needed most of those; the most use they gave was to keep his father hoping that he could someday “get better” until they ultimately proved ineffective to his standards. Granted, the medications would continue to help throughout his life, just not the way Jan Van Eck had thought they would.

If Wylan had to pinpoint where his life had gone to hell, it would be that moment he stepped in the car to go to that specialist.

Though, if he had to pick a second point, it would be months later, when his mother had died. He didn’t get to go to the funeral. That was when things had gotten worse from his father, with his mother no longer around to mitigate, to stick up for Wylan. His father started hiding him then, keeping his contact with the world as minimal as possible. He had his therapies, he had his tutoring, he had whatever nannies his father hired, and he had the occasional parties he couldn’t get away from.

He hated those parties. They were loud, and everyone always bothered him, and the food was gross, and his father always yelled at him later for acting like a fool and disgracing the Van Eck name.

The third hellish point in his life, though, was the moment that “Van Eck” ceased to have meaning at the end of Wylan’s name. He could no longer disgrace the name, if the name no longer signified his ties to Jan Van Eck.

Perhaps he should have been happy. He no longer had those parties, no longer had those therapies and tutors, no longer had his raging father. He was free of it all.

But he wasn’t happy. Mostly, he was just… scared.

Wylan hadn’t even known he had second cousins twice-removed until the day he’d been disowned. Maybe that would have been obvious to most people, but his father had cut ties with most of his family. Wylan was certain the only people Jan Van Eck was legally related to anymore was Alys, his new (and insanely young) wife, and their future child (the reason Wylan was finally let loose).

After a long taxi ride, oh-so graciously paid for by his father thanks to Alys’s bleeding heart, Wylan had enough time to fully terrify himself with catastrophic thoughts of what these “cousins” would be like. Jordan Rietveld and Kasimir Brekker could possibly be worse than his father. Hell, the name of the second one sounded intimidating enough.

Wylan spent a short while wondering why they had separate names if they were full-blooded brothers. He’d asked, but at that point, his father had stopped bothering with him altogether, and had walked away halfway through Wylan’s question.

The cab driver said something, but Wylan had lost himself so deep in thought that he couldn’t catch what the man had said.

“Sorry?”

“Five minutes,” the cab driver grunted.

“Oh. Thank you.”

And Wylan sank into his seat, panic beginning to eat him alive.

Wylan had only three bags with him. Two were packed with the essentials: clothes. Just clothes. Well, and the remnants of this month’s medications. But other than that, it was his sweaters and shirts and jeans and underwear and socks and two pairs of shoes. And that was all. The other case had been filled with things Wylan had snuck with him. Paints and easels and canvases and brushes and pens and charcoals and pencils and his flute. He had no clue if his father would’ve let him take them, so he’d hid them in the suitcase and bolted before his father could inspect anything. Perhaps that had been pointless—Jan Van Eck had stopped looking at him the moment he’d announced Wylan would be disowned.

Two of those three suitcases were dropped unceremoniously on the side of the curb by the driver. Wylan had fortunately grabbed the bag filled with his supplies, so nothing broke when the bags thudded to the grass.

“Thank you,” Wylan said to the driver. “I’d tip if I could.”

The driver just shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”

Then he disappeared back into his cab and drove away. Wylan watched as the taxi turned the corner and disappeared, suddenly feeling his heart thud louder and faster than ever before. Everything felt both too real and too unreal at the same time.

“No panic attacks before noon,” he told himself quietly.

“Wylan?”

Wylan nearly jumped out of his skin, and his heart likewise nearly flew out of his chest. If pain was painless, that would be the feeling of his heartrate returning to the pace it had previously set before as Wylan tried to regain his breath.

He turned towards the voice, suddenly filled with so much anxiety that his stomach hurt.

Two people were just a short stretch down the sidewalk, slowly making their way over.

“Wylan Van Eck?” one of them asked, clearly the owner of the voice that had previously called for him.

“Yes,” Wylan said. He discreetly wiped his palms against his pants, trying to get the sweat off of them. “Hi. Um. Jordan and Kasimir?”

The speaker began laughing, and Wylan suddenly noticed his face. It was painted in large scars and marks, a patchwork masterpiece of pristine porcelain and burnt blemishes. They had no distinct pattern, and clearly did not hurt the man, as he smiled widely through them. Wylan did also note that the half-eyebrow missing did add a bit of intrigue to his face, but otherwise… well, Wylan averted his eyes. He found staring at people’s faces to be unbearably uncomfortable in the first place, but this just made it worse. He knew he shouldn’t look at all, really. Didn’t people always find that rude? But according to his father, Wylan not looking people in the eye was rude, too…

“It’s Kaz,” said the second person, his voice harsher than rock grating rock.

He had no scars on his face—which seemed young and fresh, making him seem hardly older than Wylan, despite the hardened lines of his permanent scowl. Either that, or he already despised Wylan. Neither seemed favourable. Perhaps his taxi-ride fears weren’t totally unfounded.

But what stood out more to Wylan was the cane he leant heavily upon.

Jesus Christ, Wylan thought to himself. No wonder Jan Van Eck had never mentioned being related to them before. If he had hated Wylan…

That was rude to think that, though. He shouldn’t think of how his father thought of things. His father’s view of the world was skewed. At best.

“If you call him Kasimir,” the first guy said, “he might kill you.”

Wylan glanced to the kid—Kaz—and then immediately dropped the gaze to the ground. The scowl had gotten deeper. Kaz did indeed look murderous.

“I’m Jordie,” said the first guy, his smile balancing Kaz’s serial killer glower. He stuck out his hand to Wylan. “Jordie Rietveld.”

“Wylan Van Eck,” Wylan said, shaking the preferred hand.

“We know,” said Kaz. He did not offer his hand for Wylan to shake. Wylan noted the dark leather gloves that covered his hands. Interesting, especially when balanced with Kaz’s otherwise dark and grim attire.

Jordie, on the other hand, wore a white t-shirt and faded jeans, looking like a completely normal person. And the lack of near loathing on his face made him preferrable to Wylan. Even if Kaz wanted to kill him, perhaps Jordie wouldn’t hate him.

Not until he learned how much of a fuck-up Wylan was, anyway.

“So, you’re our cousin,” Jordie said conversationally. His eyes searched Wylan’s face, perhaps trying to find the similarities there.

“Not that we knew it,” Kaz said, his rasping voice filled with an unamused tone. Everything about Kaz screamed “unamused,” really.

Jordie coughed loudly. Kaz glanced over to him, something temporarily erasing the annoyance on his face. But then Jordie send Kaz a meaningful look of some sort, and the look returned to Kaz.

“Sorry,” Jordie said.

“No, it’s okay,” Wylan said quickly. “I didn’t know either.”

“Hm,” Kaz said.

“Anyway,” Jordie said, raising his voice somewhat. It reminded Wylan somewhat of whenever Wylan dared speak in his father’s presence at one of those parties, when his father would speak right over him to draw attention away from Wylan. Hiding his screwed-up son. But Jordie didn’t seem… well, Wylan couldn’t say that for sure. He had just met the man. But he did seem to only be doing it for Wylan’s sake, to keep Kaz’s irritation at bay. Again, Wylan couldn’t tell for sure, though. Only time would tell, he supposed. “I suppose… welcome.”

“Thanks,” Wylan said.

“Shouldn’t ‘welcome’ wait until he has actually seen the apartment?” Kaz asked dryly.

“Right,” Jordie said, frowning and blinking. “Right, yeah, that would…”

He trailed off, staring somewhere off in the distance. Then he shook his head, looking back to Wylan.

“Would you like to come inside?” he asked.

“Sure,” Wylan said, because what the hell else was he supposed to say? Someone different could have perhaps found something far more eloquent to say, but Wylan was not someone different. He was unfortunately just Wylan.

“Great,” Jordie said, smiling once more.

He bent down and grabbed one of Wylan’s clothes bags before Wylan could take them himself. Wylan shouldered his supply bag, ready to grab the last bag, but Kaz had already taken it. Guilt rumbled through Wylan’s chest. They shouldn’t help him. They’d already burdened themselves with taking him in; they shouldn’t add more to that. But Jordie had already begun walking away, towards the apartment complex Wylan now bothered to look at. Kaz was directly behind him, limping even worse than before. Wylan’s guilt likewise compacted.

The apartment complex looked… to be fair to the place, it wasn’t the worst place Wylan had seen. He’d seen way worse on his drive over here. But it was rather bad. The white paint had lost most of its life, living a now grim existence as faded yellow ivory. The windows and their sills looked old. That was the most Wylan could say about them. And the fire escapes everywhere looked rusty and rickety. Wylan wouldn’t trust those with his life. He hoped he’d never have to.

Jordie unlocked a side door to the place, then pushed through. Kaz followed, hands too busy with bag and cane to hold it open for Wylan, who had to rush to make sure he wasn’t locked out.

Inside looked about as dreary as out—old, matted carpet covered the stairs that lead to all of the floors, and decaying plant matter and dirt tracks and bug remnants scattered across the tile landing. The popcorn walls had crumbling and faded paint, much like the outer walls.

“Oh, boy,” Jordie said up front. “Here we go.”

Then he mounted the first stair with a sigh. Wylan frowned, wondering what that was about.

He figured it out after the first flight.

“Inhaler,” Kaz said, almost bored, as Jordie wheezed and coughed, leaning against the wall.

Jordie nodded, shouldering Wylan’s bag so he could root around his pockets. He pulled out a white and blue inhaler, popping the cap off as he began to shake it.

“I can take my bag back,” Wylan said, now feeling another layer of guilt. “You don’t have to carry it.”

Holding his breath as he removed the inhaler nozzle from his lips, Jordie shook his head. Kaz just scowled over his shoulder at Wylan, his cane held horizontally in the same hand that held Wylan’s bag as the other hand clung to the railing.

All of this burden they placed on themselves, only for them to sooner or later realise that they wasted it when he showed them just how useless he was.

They had to go quite slowly after that, but they eventually made it to the correct floor. The Rietveld apartment (Wylan assumed it was under the Rietveld name, anyway; Jordie was the older of the two, and Wylan was now dead certain Kaz was near his age) was the first door off the staircase. Convenient, in a small way. Not convenient that the place had no elevators, but Wylan wasn’t about to ask why they lived here and not a more accessible place. There was a reason why people lived in a place like this: money (or the lack thereof).

“Home, sweet home,” Jordie said, unlocking the door to the apartment.

Wylan’s first thought was: It’s bare.

His second thought was: It’s small.

The living space held a crackling old leather sofa, a brown corduroy reclining chair, a coffee table scattered with dents and mail, and flatscreen TV. The TV was the only thing that looked remotely new; Wylan suspected the rest were either hand-me-downs or thrifted.

Beyond that lay a kitchen, removed from the living room by only an island bar. It had space for a refrigerator, oven and stove, sink, and a small stretch of countertop that was surrounded by cupboards and drawers. If all three of them stood in that room, Wylan figured, it would become quite crowded.

He couldn’t see the rest of the place, but a hall led away from beside the kitchen. That likely held the bedrooms and bathroom, and whatever else could possibly be in this small place.

Jordie dropped Wylan’s bag on the sofa. Kaz set the other beside it, continuing to walk until he disappeared down the hall.

“Don’t mind him,” Jordie said, not once losing his cheer. “He’s always a grump.”

“Oh,” Wylan said, unsure what else to say.

“Anyway, this is it,” Jordie said. He began gesturing around the place. “Living room, kitchen… down the hall’s going to be your bedroom on the left. Me and Kaz’ll sleep together in the other one. Bathroom is last door on the left. Um… yeah. That’s about it.” He turned to Wylan, smiling ruefully. “Yeah. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s… nice,” Wylan supplied.

Jordie laughed. “You’re funny. No, it’s okay. You don’t have to lie. This place is a shithole.”

Wylan wouldn’t have put it like that, but yes. He’d seen the hole in that one cupboard, the chunk missing from the faux marble island counter, the dents in the wall, the crack in that corner of the ceiling…

“It’s not so bad,” Wylan said, generously.

“It’s cheap,” Jordie said, placing his hands on his hips and surveying the ceiling. Oh. Another crack. “That’s what it is.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Jordie said, looking down at Wylan. “Want to see your new room?”

Wylan shrugged. “Sure.”

This time, he managed to grab both cases of clothes before Jordie could reach them. Wylan’s arms felt like they were being torn off, but at least Jordie wasn’t burdening himself for Wylan. Plus, the short hall was nothing like that staircase.

Jordie led him through the hall, pushing open a door with a hole in a conspicuously shoulder-height place. Wylan eyed that warily until the door had swung fully open.

If the rest of the apartment was barren and small, then this was… Wylan didn’t even know the words.

The walls were popcorn white—as with the rest of the place—but they were studded with holes of previous tenants nails and tacks. Nothing lay on the walls currently other than those holes. There was a bed pressed against the back right corner, taking up most of the space. Half of the bed rested below the window (which seemed to lead to this apartment’s fire escape). Another large portion of the space was taken up by a dresser and desk combination. A small stool went along with it, tucked beneath the desk portion. And in the far corner across from the bed, a shallow cut-out of space denoted a closet.

“Used to be my room,” Jordie said. “But I’m in with Kaz now.”

“Oh…” Was there anything that wouldn’t make Wylan feel like guilt was piled so high atop him that he might sink beneath the ground?

“I assume you don’t have a toothbrush or shampoo or anything?” Jordie asked.

“Um, no,” Wylan said.

Jordie nodded. “Thought not. Well, you can use mine for the time being. Shampoo, anyway. Please don’t use my toothbrush.” Wylan managed a feeble smile as Jordie grinned broadly at him. “Use your finger, or something.”

“I do, um…” Wylan fumbled to find the right words. “I have some medications… I don’t know where—”

“Medicine cabinet’s behind the mirror,” Jordie said quickly. “You might have to rearrange a few things to get your stuff in there, though.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“For what?” Jordie asked.

“Moving your stuff around, I guess.”

Jordie frowned strangely at him. “I toldyou to do it. You don’t have to apologise. Hell, you haven’t even done it yet.”

Wylan pulled his lips into his mouth, biting them together. Jordie studied him for a short while longer, then shook his head to himself. The easy smile returned to Jordie’s face.

“I’ll leave you to unpack, then,” Jordie said. “Oh, and we’ll get you those supplies tomorrow. Or sometime soon.”

Then he disappeared out of the room. The door creaked as it swung most of the way shut behind him. For reasons he couldn’t begin to fathom, that summed up exactly how Wylan felt.

Wylan didn’t have hangers for his clothes, he discovered.

“Oh,” he said to himself. “Okay. Um.”

He refolded the sweater he had just pulled from one of the bags, then shoved it back inside. He zipped the bag back up. With any luck, the clothes wouldn’t get all wrinkled. He highly doubted that this place had an iron.

The dresser, he figured, would likely only need to house his underwear and socks. Those could all get tossed in the same drawer. Thus, he could appoint all the other drawers for his art supplies.

Organising those drawers gave him a good hour of clear headspace. He organised them one way before deciding he didn’t like that, then started over.

When he had nearly finished with the drawers, he stopped, staring at the oil paint tubes in his hand.

Why was he doing this? He had no right to. He shouldn’t be here. He didn’t belong here, for any number of reasons. This wasn’t his place. He couldn’t be a burden on two other people—people who looked like they had enough burdens of their own to bear. Yet, here he was, unloading all of the life he could carry into drawers and closets that weren’t his.

Ungracefully, he dumped the paints back in his bag, followed by all of the other supplies he had just spent forever organising. The only thing he left in the drawers was his canvases. Those shouldn’t get tossed around so much. He only had five; he had to treat them with care. He could spare exactly none of them.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a loud cough came from somewhere outside of the door. It hit him, moments later, that he had dimly heard coughing in the background for a few minutes now. But that particular cough was unexpected. And quite horrible.

Wylan moved to the door, cracking it open. He saw a dark head of hair outside, bent over as another cough came. Jordie’s head raised, elbow pressed against his mouth as he coughed again.

“Wy—” a cough cut him off for a moment “—lan.”

He shook his head, then dropped his elbow to reach into his pocket and grabbed his inhaler. Wylan looked away as he primed and then used the inhaler. It was awkward, watching him… well. It was just an intrusion, wasn’t it? And rude. Nobody was supposed to stare at anyone different. Not Kaz’s cane and limp, not Jordie’s scars, not this.

“Sorry,” Jordie said a minute later.

Wylan heard the click of something closing, and he looked up to see Jordie capping the inhaler and ramming it in the pocket of his jeans. Jordie had an amiable smile on his face.

“Asthma,” he said, as if the coughing had been merely some bug he’d swatted away.

“I’m sorry,” Wylan said.

Jordie waved a dismissing hand. “Don’t. I get enough of that in my life.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, that’s new.” Jordie’s smile had broken wider, genuine and confused amusement splitting his face. “An apology. For an apology.”

Wylan tried another, “Sorry?”

“Are you kidding? I haven’t had an actual apology in this house in…” He trailed off with another disregarding wave, but Wylan got the point. Kaz didn’t seem to be the relenting and apologetic type. “Anyway. I came to ask…”

Wylan watched him, waiting for the question. Jordie simply frowned. He looked over to the wall for a second.

“What was I going to ask?” he murmured to himself. “Shit.”

Unsure of this new situation, Wylan felt his fingers fumble for the fabric of his shirt’s hem. Jordie kept frowning at the wall, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he concentrated.

“Jordie?” Wylan asked after what seemed like too long.

Jordie’s head snapped back to Wylan, frown deeper for a split second. Then it erased, reverting to an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I can’t remember what I was going to ask.”

Wylan knew that feeling all too well, but something about the way Jordie had zoned out bothered him.

Suddenly, Jordie snapped loudly, his index finger pointing to Wylan. Startled, Wylan drew back somewhat.

“Dinner,” Jordie said, amusement lighting his face once more. “Dinner. I was going to ask about dinner.”

Still uncertain, Wylan merely stared at Jordie.

“What do you like to eat?” Jordie asked. Before Wylan could even begin to think how to answer that, Jordie said, “We don’t do fancy rich people stuff, though. We’re cheap.”

“Oh. I didn’t… I mean, I’m not… you don’t have to worry about that,” Wylan said, words stumbling ungracefully. “You can just… make whatever you want, I guess.”

“Okay, I’ve heard that before, and that never goes over well,” Jordie said. “Nina’s the only person that has ever worked for.”

Wylan did not know who Nina was, but he still felt guilt gnawing at him. He really did not want to make Jordie change whatever meal he had planned.

“Seriously, it’s okay,” Jordie said. “Just tell me so that you don’t starve and then I don’t have the police investigating me.”

Wylan blinked.

“That was a joke,” Jordie said. He waited a second longer, expecting Wylan’s laughter. Wylan managed a grimaced smile. “Okay. No jokes. Um. Fine. Look. This is what we eat on a regular basis. Chinese takeout. Pizza. Uh. Boxed noodles. Frozen vegetables. Any easily-heated meal. Any of that repulsive to you?”

Truth be told, Wylan wasn’t entirely sure. He’d never had boxed noodles before. Or easily-heated meals. He knew he didn’t like most vegetables—they all reeked or had unpleasant textures (broccoli being the worst offender of all)—but maybe frozen made them different?

“No,” Wylan said. Even he could tell he sounded unconvincing.

“Fine,” Jordie said. “We’ll start with pizza. Nobody hates pizza.” He turned and walked away then, grumbling under his breath, “Not even Kaz.”

Wylan slowly closed the door, utterly confused by that entire encounter.

(and this is all I have written lmao sorryyyyyy)

[9worldstales]

MCU Loki Ep 4 “Nexus Event” intensive analysis

Okay, new episode which is, thankfully, kind of better than the previous. But let’s start with order.

So we’ll start with Asgard, only we aren’t told it’s Asgard nor in which year we are. I hope the fact we aren’t told the year is meaningful, because otherwise it’s just lazy.

We see a child Sylvie playing with toy dragon and toy Valkyrie when Renslayer, at the time a young hunter and other hunters get there to capture her. We don’t know what little Sylvie did wrong. As far as we know she had no magic so, unless she actually did have magic and her adult version didn’t know, it’s not like she was a male Loki who shapeshift into a female so this can be her Nexus event.

She’s just a child playing.

Whatever, Renslayer and the others didn’t care she’s a child, they decide she’s the Variant they were hunting, grabs her and take her away.

At the TVA Renslayer holds her for her arm in what should be an uncomfortable grip for poor Sylvie and doesn’t even look at her or tries to reassure her in any way.

I remember, when we saw all this being done to Loki, wondering if the series would dig into police brutality. Sylvie sees a man getting dragged in, she’s scare she asks for someone to help the man, no one cares. She goes through the same routine Loki went through at the TVA. Mercifully we don’t see her being left naked but we see her being forced to wear the TVA prison uniform for Variants.

For all the people who though what Loki went through was funny and the TVA was justified in doing it, now I want you to look well at what they’re doing at this poor child. It’s the same thing. Is it still funny? Do they still lokk like the good guys.

She’s scared and, as far as she know, she did nothing wrong and, despite her young age, no one is showing her any sympathy.

She’s guilty of the same crime Loki committed, ‘crimes against the Sacred Timeline’. She’s handled the same. If you justified or excused or agreed with what was done to Loki for ‘crimes against the Sacred Timeline’, you were agreeing to what is happening to her now.

Being stripped of her rights, handled like an object for a crime she had no intention or idea she had committed because it was made up by some unknown authority.

Once in front of the judge Sylvie manages to escape to Renslayer’s grip and steal her tempad.

Now, I can excuse the escaping and also the stealing. Maybe Renslayer is inexperienced and maybe she didn’t expect dangers from such a young child but how did she figured she has to steal the tempad and how to use it?

Up till now how Renslayer has used the Tempad for was to recognize her as the Variant they were searching for. She shouldn’t know it’s the Tempad which opens the Timedoors or how to work it. Sure, we can assume it’s really easy to use it but it  still makes no sense she knows she has to use it to open the timedoors.

Whatever, Renslayer remains frozen on the spot when little Sylvie escapes and I can wonder if she felt a bit of sympathy for her… only the scene is kinda weird because she looked angry and ready to strike when the Sylvie stomped on her feet so this sudden sympathy when she’s about to escape is out of place. They just stare at each other, NO ONE making an attempt to grab Sylvie before Sylvie escape through the timedoor which, differently from how it had done with Loki in Episode 2, immediately close behind her.

The scene switches to Renslayer who has her eyes closed as if this was her memory.

She then opens them and enter through a golden door, supposedly going to see the Time-Keepers.

We get a glimpse to the Time-Keepers and then the title.

In the next scene the door opens and Renslayer marches out of it, Mobius confirming she went to see the Time-Keepers. He asks her how she feels and she says she’s not well because she had to meet the Time-Keepers in a bad situation and it’s stressing enough to meet them when everything goes well so this is really terrible.

Now… I don’t know. Later in the episode it’ll turn out the Time-Keepers are fake so… didn’t she know? Is she pretending to be stressed for Mobius’ benefit?

She says the Time-Keepers are blaming her for the situation and for how Sylvie and Loki escaped. She doesn’t mention Loki tried to stop Sylvie from meeting the Time-Keepers.

In short although Loki tried to stop Sylvie and used the Tempad to escape only when Renslayer tried to kill them both,  through the whole episode they’ll handle him as if he tried to escape with her or worse help her to kill the Time-Keepers.

Renslayers remarks how

The Time-Keepers are all that stand between us and full-scale calamity.

…basically fuelling their own Time-Keepers cult.

Mobius though is more interested in talking with C-20 but Renslayer, with a tragic performance, tells him she’s dead because when she was enchanted this scrambled her mind and basically she began to decline till death. Tissues anyone?

Even Mobius feels a slight scent of b*llsh*t at this story since C-20 seemed fine when he brought her back to the TVA but since he trusts Renslayer he swallows it.

Poor C-20 clearly either got pruned or reset, somehow they didn’t decide to make the smart thing and re-brainwash her, but just preferred to kill her off.

Renslayer persuades Mobius to keep C-20’s death a secret so as not to create panic.

By the way, NO ONE IS TALKING ABOUT THE BOMBED TIMELINE AND NO ONE WILL TALK ABOUT IT LATER ON. It felt like the bombed timeline was merely something they did in Ep 2 to distract TVA and the viewers so that Sylvie could sneak in but nothing serious since it gets dropped so easily which is beyond disappointing. I mean, in Ep 2 it seemed to be such a huge problem and now… it’s nothing. All solved, all forgotten, just some extra work done in a short time.

Apparently, resetting the timeline in god knows how many points did nothing.

Really, that feel more like a dropped plot point or a plot hole than anything else.

For all that’s worth I find the acting between Mobius and Renslayer good. Every actor is working really hard in this series and I feel bad if it were to get lost into plot contrivances and plot holes.

Back to the story Renslayer pressures Mobius into tracking Sylvie and Loki.

The scene switches back to Lamentis. A lot more meteorites are falling but none of them close to Loki and Sylvie.

Sylvie is sit on a stone. Loki reaches her and apologizes. Because this episode wants him to be a narcissist but he again shows empathy to her.

Sylvie opens up to him, talking with him about her life.

Now is what Loki said about love being a dagger is something that’s not profound and pompous what about this that Sylvie says?

The universe wants to break free, so it manifests chaos. Like me being born the Goddess of Mischief.

It’s completely her speculation and gives her a sense of grandiosity. SHE’S IN A MISSION FOR THE UNIVERSE! THE UNIVERSE WANTS IT!

Don’t take me wrong, the TVA is keeping everyone prisoner but the universe didn’t create the Loki so as they could become its saviours.

We continue with Sylvie story. We’re supposed to swallow not only she figured the Tempad could open timedoor and how it worked but also how to recharge it and how to escape the TVA despite their many attempts to get her. Sylvie, who was already amazing for teaching herself how to enchant people, is set up to be even more amazing as she’s basically teaching herself everything and escaping from the TVA by centuries from when she was a young kid.

Who’s Tony Stark compared to her?

If this were to be a fanfic we would call her a Mary Sue or a Gary Stu.

She’s simply so awesome it doesn’t seem realistic for no reason at all especially compared to the other Loki Variant with her.

As Waldron is not a young girl writing for free I fear nobody will dare tell him he created a Mary Sue and people will only praise him for the oh so competent Sylvie.

And mind you, we need characters like Sylvie, who’re very competent.

Characters who’re sex fluid and bisexual and with a woman body and can still be strong and competent and above others… but the whole thing feels forced because she’s too good without a logic behind it, from figuring out it’s the Tempad that opens time door without never seeing it to do, to successfully escaping the TVA for so long.

When Loki managed to steal the Time Twister and use it, he has seen it being used previously more than once so it made sense he could use it and he had, to figure out how it worked, all the time Mobius spent discussing with B-15.

It made him smart to realize he could use it and he used it in a clever way but it wasn’t unbelievable because he had a grasp of how it worked, of what it could do.

Sylvie only saw it being used to identify her yet she guessed it was the thing that opened the Timedoors and how to make it work despite the Tempad having more than one function in basically a moment.

Then, although she apparently keeps on causing Nexus events everywhere she goes, she always manages to be one step ahead the TVA, escaping their grasp and, in all this, she also managed to recharge the Tempad using amazing power sources where Loki supposedly has no idea how it’s done. She fed herself, she learnt how to fight, she got herself a sword, she learn enchantment without having any basis whatsoever…

She’s the ‘superior Loki’ in a way, but why she should be superior to all the other Loki is absolutely random.

Anyway she says she grew up among ‘ends of the worlds’ and she will die in one of them, all while the scenery around them didn’t seem apocalyptic but romantic.

And mind you, the visual is really pretty but I feel the romance is misplaced, unnecessary.

And I’m still not sold in how they’re representing the moon.

Meanwhile Mobius is searching for them or better for a Nexus event that will lead him to them.

B-15, who hates variants, suggests they’re gone planning their next massacre… which isn’t true but if it were… can you blame them when you were the one who wanted to kill them in the first place and humiliated and belittled them? Should they have thanked you for your mistreatment?

She then asks about C-20 and Mobius says he has none so, worriedly, B-15 tries to urge him to… do something.

We go back to Loki and Sylvie and to the moon conveniently crumbling above them and yet not hitting them with them perfectly calm and enjoying the show.

Sylvie starts getting depressed.

Sylvie: Not long now. Do you think that what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we're destined to lose?

So okay, she feels she has lost but this is kind of a big leap. I mean, if the fact Loki was destined to lose is what made him Loki… then Thanos is Loki and Obadiah Stane is Loki and Red Skull is Loki and Killmongrel is Loki and so on.

Loki counters with something… interesting.

Loki: No. We may lose. Sometimes painfully. But we don’t die. We survive. I mean, you did. You were just a child when the TVA took you, but you nearly took down the organization that claims to govern the order of time. You did it on your own. You ran rings around them. You’re amazing!

Okay… so he knows he died in the sacred timeline. What’s his basis for saying they don’t die? The fact he survived to the wormhole? When he specifically wanted to die? Or that he survived through Thanos? Is the series ever going to touch that or we should pretend it never happened and Loki had a nice holiday with him?

Or a Time Charge hit the timeline in that point and erased that year Loki spent with Thanos?

Whatever, Loki is now busy admiring Sylvie for her efforts and being supportive… but it seems Marvel doesn’t want to count this as him being empathic and supportive with another being because she’s Loki… only episode 3 and the beginning of episode 4 went to great lengths to establish she’s not and hey, technically episode 3 is right in this.

I’ll point it out here and not later on because it’s probably important to discuss it immediately as it’ll come up later on a lot.

The identity of a person is made up by nature and nurture. Part of you is what you physically are, your genetic code that decide if you’re black or white, male or female or something else, human or a horse, tall or short, healthy or sick.

What you are will dictate part of what you will experience so it has a huge impact on you as it will decide part of your skills and part of your weaknesses.

Then, of course, there’s nurture.

Let’s pick twins. It’s worth to mention not all the identical twins share EXACTLY the same DNA because recent studies have proved mutation occurs in around the 15% of identical twins.

It’s also worth to mention that nurture begins really early. Even if we assume the two managed to keep the same genetic code, during development in the womb one twin might not receive the same amount of nutrients and this might affect his development.

And nurture will continue to affect them as they can even experience similar things (same parents, same house, same school) but there will be always differences that will end up affecting them.

Each twin is his own person, they’re not the same.

So now, Loki and Sylvie.

They’re clearly genetically not the same. What’s more we’ll see at the end there’s even a black Loki so basically this series doesn’t require the same genetic code for a Loki to be a Loki. So nature isn’t relevant here.

What about nurture?

We just learnt Sylvie’s story is completely different from Loki.

As a result her powers are different from his own. Her skillsets, her reactions, her temper is different from his own. She has different goals and different wants. As Sophia Di Martino said, she’s Sylvie, not Loki.

She’s as different from him as another person could be.

To me she even looked more like Thor than Loki.

So really, how’s self admiration when she’s actually not him? The only way for it to be self admiration would be if Loki isn’t admiring her for her own accomplishment, but just because he was told she’s him. But in this case he wouldn’t have been babbling for ours about who’s the lesser Loki.

If all Lokis are made equal in his eyes and worth his admiration because Loki then there’s no point to discuss who among them is better.

In short it’s a damn mess.

Anyway Sylvie touches Loki and he’s kind of surprised, in fact he looks at his arm.

In “Thor” the touch of a Frost Giant could turn Loki into his original look but we know Sylvie has touched Loki already when she tried to enchant him and that’s not the problem.

I wish the trick were she has enchanted him but later Mobius will say the problem is that they had started swooning on each other which opens a huge can of worms but we’ll discuss them later.

So now back to Mobius we go and to the timeline which begins to branch, signalling problems on Lamentis 1.

We return to Loki who raises his eyes from his arm and he and Sylvie look at each other for a moment before returning to pay attention to the show of meteorites falling closer. They turn again to look at each other, holding hands this time and smiling.

Back to Mobius we go and to how the branching timeline seems to go on a perpendicular line rather quickly. It impresses Mobius as it’s apparently an unheard event.

Back to Loki and Sylvie we go and to how two TimeDoor open in front of them.

We don’t know if they jumped through them to survive or if the TVA came out, grabbed them and dragged them through and it doesn’t matter.

In the next scene we see that both Sylvie and Loki are collared, held by guard as they struggle and escorted through the corridors of the TVA, Mobius leading them.

They’re then parted and when this happens they look at each other.

As they walk Mobius begins to talk with Loki. Evidently Mobius has no idea that Loki had been trying to stop Sylvie when they were at the TVA and works on the assumption they were accomplices. Maybe. It’s not really clear on which assumption Mobius is working.

Loki accuses him to have betrayed him and Mobius counters it’s Loki who betrayed him.

Actually they’re both wrong, Mobius more than Loki.

For a betrayal to happen, there needs to be a break of trust.

Now, in regard to Loki, trusting Mobius was a mistake. Mobius picked him up from the trial because he needed him for a use and was never honest with him.

Meeting the Time-Keepers? Mobius can’t met them himself, how could he help Loki meeting them?

But whatever, Loki apparently trusted him so I take he feels betrayed by how Mobius had him arrested when he actually didn’t betray Mobius. He tried stopping Sylvie, he tried capturing her, he ended on Lamentis 1 because Renslayer tried to kill them both, he didn’t cause the timeline to branch on purpose, for most of his permanence on Lamentis 1 he wanted to leave the planet and stick to his own plan to bring Sylvie back to the TVA.

So Mobius arresting him clearly feels an act of betrayal to Loki. He doesn’t know Renslayer didn’t report he tried to stop Sylvie and the fact Mobius didn’t trust him to do what he was supposed to but handled him like a criminal likely hurt.

But, as I said before, for all Mobius can say, he’s not his friend, he’s not someone who would trust and support him, Mobius cares about the TVA.

And Mobius feel betrayed because he thinks Loki plotted against the TVA with Sylvie.

This is wrong for two reasons, the first and most obvious being that Loki didn’t plot with her, the second being that, although Loki seemed to have missed it, he was working with Mobius under coercion. The TVA wanted to prune him, Mobius saved him but in exchange Loki had to make himself useful. This was made clear in episode 2 as well. Mobius said if using Loki didn’t work he would delete him himself and he made Loki sure this was his last chance (before being deleted) and that he had to work to make himself useful while Mobius went and have lunch.

You aren’t entitled to expect genuine loyalty from someone when you tell them ‘if you don’t give me what I want I’ll kill you’. I hope no one has forgotten this little talk from episode 2:

Mobius: This is the final step. Your last chance.

Loki: Oh, and what does my desperate last chance require?

Mobius: Work.

Loki: Work?

Mobius: I need you to go over each and every one of the Variant's case files, and then, give me your... How do I put it? Your unique Loki perspective. And who knows? Maybe there's something that we missed.

Loki: Well, you're idiots. I suspect you probably missed a lot.

Mobius: That's why I'm lucky I got ya for a little bit longer. Let me park ya at this desk. And don't be afraid to really lean into this work. Here's a good trick for you. Pretend your life depends on it. I'm gonna get a snack.

Mobius made really clear if Loki didn’t give him what he wants he’s a dead man.

For some weird reasons Loki decided to still be loyal to him (okay, so he wanted to get to the Time-Keepers and might suffer of Stockholm syndrome), but the most logical thing, as many had pointed out, was escape from the TVA first chance he were to get as Sylvie has been doing.

Now… to be honest there are situations in which you could ask this from another.

If Mobius had told Loki ‘Sorry, I know this is unfair and I want to help you but I can’t do more or I’ll get killed too. So I’ll protect you but I’ve to ask you to protect me as well by putting up with this.’

This though would have required Mobius to prioritize Loki’s survival and consider the fact he needed Loki to catch the Variant as an excuse to keep Loki alive.

That’s not the case, Mobius made clear although he has sympathy for Loki, he prioritizes catching the Variant. He didn’t suffer any repercussion when things went wrong.

He’s absolutely safe, his only risk comes from the Variant but this was the same even prior to Loki getting involved.

Mobius is using Loki and, in exchange for using him, he let him enjoy the benefit of being alive, albeit belittled by others around him. As I said talking about Episode 2, they don’t have an equal partnership.

I hate how Mobius says this:

Mobius: You know, it occurred to me that you're not really the God of Mischief.

Loki: Oh, here it comes. The folksy, dopey insult from the folksy dope. What am I? The God of Self-Sabotage, yeah? The God of Back-Stabbing?

Mobius: Just kind of an asshole and a bad friend.

The worst part is that Mobius seems to genuinely believe he’s a good friend to Loki, opposed to Loki who’s a bad friend. He didn’t even listen to his reasons or asked him what had happened. When Loki tries to tell him something ‘the TVA is lying to you’, he merely assumes Loki is lying. Mobius has no idea what a friend is. He’s angry in the way a pet owner is angry when his dog peed on the carpet, he doesn’t view Loki as equal, which is the basis for being friends.

His idea to deal with Loki now isn’t to listen to him, it’s to punish him by having him being beaten and belittled, as well as tossed hurtful words about Loki’s worst fear, being left alone. He doesn’t even dirty his hands with doing it himself, he just traps Loki in a timeloop in which Sif slaps him, kick him in the groins and punches him telling him he is a ‘conniving, craven, pathetic worm’ and that she ‘hope you know you deserve to be alone and you always will be’, all this because Loki cut her hair.

Now, this is based on something the Loki of the myth did, and that Marvel also had Loki do more than once in the comics, either with Sif or with other characters. In the original version and in the Marvel version Loki didn’t just cut some locks from Sif’s hair as he did here, but basically turned her bald.

It doesn’t matter, yes he was an *ssh*le and yes, I think Sif had all the rights to be angry and call him names and beat him.

BACK THEN.

Loki hurt her, she hurt him back, they are even. That’s the end.

Even Sif knows as she doesn’t remain there to beat him further until all his bones are broken.

Of course this is not going to work because beating someone and calling him names doesn’t magically turn that person into a better person, that’s why many countries abolished corporal punishment and considered it an useless torture.

But this doesn’t mean it’s okay for Mobius to take that moment and traps Loki into a time loop so he can get beaten and humiliated to Mobius’ heart content until he says he’s bad, bad, bad, which in real life is equally useless because we know if you start beating a person and won’t stop until he says what you want him to say, people in the long run will say everything to make the beating stop, they even confess crimes they didn’t commit.

That’s why, in many states, if you arrest someone you can’t beat him until he confess and any confession obtained by beating him is null and void.

And I particularly loathe the framing of all this for more than one reason but let’s start digging with the first ones.

“Thor” side material established that Sif is a better fighter than Loki but sadly the idea a girl can’t hit as hard as a man rules so Sif beating Loki doesn’t feel as bad as, let’s say, Cull Obsidian punching him over and over. Some see as fun that a male can be beaten by a girl and hit on the crotch, a rightful demeaning which excuses what’s being done because she’s just a girl and if Loki can’t defend himself it’s his fault… which is a rather disgusting mindsetting.

The fact Sif was, ‘supposedly’ Loki’s friend is clearly chosen to draw a comparison with Mobius… which doesn’t really work really well because we never truly saw Sif and Loki being friends.

In “Thor” she was fast in thinking he was plotting the downfall of Asgard. If the idea is their relation turned sour because Loki cut her hair… well, this is up to speculation because we never saw it being friendly.

And anyway, even Sif knew when to stop while Mobius evidently doesn’t as he continues to let him be beaten, again without even doing the job himself, framing it as if it was all Loki’s fault.

If he had to beat Loki into submission I would have honestly preferred him to just take a whip and beat him, this framing in which he ‘remains innocent’ while his dog gets punished for peeing on the carpet honestly disgust him. But okay, if the series were to use it to make a point about ‘police brutality’ I would have been fine with it. Mobius wants a confession, wants to force Loki to comply and beat him. The viewers will be shown how wrong is this and the message will be that you shouldn’t do it.

It would be great if Mobius were playing the part of the Bernardo Gui of the TVA.

Bernardo Gui: Brother Salvatore... these torments will cause me as much pain as you. You can end it before we even begin. Open the gates of your heart, search the depths of your soul. [Name of the Rose]

Too bad that’s not the case.

The scene switches to Renslayer’s office.

This is how Mobius defines what he’s doing to Loki:

Mobius: He's softening in the Time Cell, but while he marinates, I thought maybe I'd interview the other Variant.

Please, don’t tell me you never heard this sort of excuses in movies that included police brutality. Or outright torture to make you confess you were an heretic or guilty of a murder.

He’s not being beaten into compliance, he’s softening. We’re making him better, we’re making him willing. We’re absolutely not making anything bad in having him being beaten over and over. Because if you beat someone over and over you’ll always have a honest confession, won’t you?

Bernardo Gui: Since the verdict of the Inquisition has been disputed by Brother William... we are obliged to extract the prisoner's confession to murder. Take him to the forge and show him the instruments.

Remigio Da Varagine: I'll confess anything you want, but don't torture me. I can't go through a night like Salvatore!

Bernardo Gui: Very well. Why did you kill them?

Remigio Da Varagine: Why? I don't know why.

Bernardo Gui: Because you were inspired by the devil?

Remigio Da Varagine: Yes... that's it. I was inspired by the devil. [Name of the Rose]

But I’m running ahead.

Mobius would like to talk with the other Variant, aka Sylvie. Would he also torture her psychologically or physically or it would look bad on him to abuse of a woman? We don’t know as Renslayer, rather cheerfully, refuses to let him speak with her. Nobosy should speak with her.

Mobius tries in another way:

Mobius: I mean, if there's a mastermind here, I don't think it's Loki.

The problem I have with this sentence is that it’s not said because geez, it makes no sense Loki willingly escaped with a variant into an apocalypse with no means to leave it, all to create a branch that would allow the TVA to detect them and capture them.

It’s not even said because Loki is his friend and wouldn’t do it.

Or any other logical reason why Loki wouldn’t have done it.

The implication here seems to be just that Loki doesn’t seem smart enough to be the mastermind of all this fiasco, because this is a fiasco, mind you, as they were captured and if they weren’t they would be dead.

Renslayer’s reply isn’t what Mobius wants.

Renslayer: Good. Then he should be the easiest to break. Work your Loki and figure out what caused that spike. Time-Keepers are watching, Mobius.

She at least calls things with their name as she says Mobius is supposed to break Loki. To break him to get the truth. She has figured Mobius is having him beaten and she’s okay with breaking him. Because a regime beat people into compliance.

Then she put pressures on Mobius by telling him the Time-Keepers are watching which reminds me of how, in the past, people used to say to scare others ‘Remember: God is always watching you!’ and it wasn’t meant to be encouraging, as he’s watching you to protect you, no, he’s watching you because if you mess up he’s ready to punish you.

Welcome to the Time-Keepers cult everyone.

Mobius leaves.

We move to B-15 who’s asking to another hunter Sylvie has beaten if she’s Okay because Sylvie is the superior Loki and of course she has managed to beat one of the hunters guarding her.

Mobius joins B-15 and saying the hunter hurt comments:

Mobius: They don't go gently, do they?

WHY SHOULD THEY?

Are you going gently with Loki? You’re having him beaten over and over and my guess is you’re not doing the same with Sylvie because the show thinks it would look bad if they were shown beating a woman over and over.

Anyway B-15 is right when she calls Loki his ‘Variant pet’, as I said that’s how Mobius sees Loki, as a pet who peed on the carpet.

Mobius goes on:

Mobius: You know, we brought in Kree, Titans, vampires. Why is it the two orphan demigods are such a pain in the ass?

I hate this question honestly because it implies two orphan demigods should just go down quietly, that they aren’t as terrible as Kree, Titans, vampires. Why are they opposing to the TVA, why don’t let themselves just be erased. Or reprogrammed as you let the TVA do to you, Mobius.

You know, there’s people that’s not thrilled with the idea you can kill or submit them.

But Hunter B-15 despite looking down on the Variants, is worried so she asks if Loki said anything to him.

Mobius replies Loki told him the TVA is lying him. Oh, think the audacity! The TVA which is so honest. The agency he can believe it’s real because he believes it’s real.

Mobius: Odin, God of the Heavens. Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars. Frost Giants. Listen to yourself...

Loki: It's not the same. It's completely different. No. It's not the same.

Mobius: It's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose.

Mobius: Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real.

Such a solid base. And Loki tells him they’re lying. No, really? His little personal cult, lying TO HIM?

Of course B-15 fears differently but she had an experience Mobius couldn’t share.

We go back to Loki who now is on the ground and is begging Sif to hit him no more. And a side of me facepalm.

Okay, as said before Sif was established to be stronger than him but he knows she’s coming. He could goddamn prepare and put up a fight instead than just stay there and get beaten which, I guess, is painful.

I’ll assume he can’t use his magic so I’ll forgive him for not using that but he could just take a flower vase, hit and crash it against Sif’s head when she enters.

Never mentioning that if he kept on getting punched and beaten, since HE doesn’t rewind, by now he should have a quite bruised check. Again, since Mobius wanted him beaten it would have made more sense if he just had whipped him but no, we needed to get this thing that supposedly tame the beating down so we don’t feel disgusted if we don’t think at it too hard.

Anyway Loki has enough and gives Sif what she wanted to hear.

Loki: Please, please, no more. Please, I beg you. I'm a horrible person. I get it. I really am. I cut off your hair because I thought it'd be funny. And it's not. Uh... I crave attention... because I'm... I'm a... I'm a narcissist. And I suppose it's... It's because I'm scared of being alone.

So let’s talk of all that’s wrong with this.

First of all Loki was coerced in saying this. It means goddamn nothing.

Second if this is meant to be the truth and someone doesn’t point out a little louder how the TVA is a fascist organization that deploy torture and anyway it’s bad to coerce people into saying the truth this way, it basically encourages to beat people to get them to be honest. Which is disgusting.

Third, it makes a HUGE deal of something that it’s relatively minor. I mean, Mobius wanted him to say he’s a horrible person? For cutting Sif’s hair?!? This is his worst crime, something Loki need to regret?

The TVA in Ep 1 was all about pinning on him the blame for the attack on New York but Sif’s hair, oh, cutting Sif’s hair is obviously worse. Only no, because it meant to happen in the Sacred Timeline so the TVA would have punished him hadn’t he done it.

So you can read this in two ways.

Either Mobius’ logic is dumb or the episode’s logic is dumb. If the story is trying to paint Mobius as an idiot and an hypocrite or he’s just trying to confuse Loki so that he’ll say everything and the opposite of everything and it doesn’t matter if it make sense or not fine, I’m cool, but if I’m supposed to run with this instead and think Mobius’ amazingly therapeutic way to get Loki to realize his faults and think at his behaviour and realize what he is, is to have Sif beat him into submission they’ll do better to think it twice.

Now… this part ‘I crave attention... because I'm... I'm a... I'm a narcissist. And I suppose it's... It's because I'm scared of being alone’ doesn’t make sense.

You don’t become a Narcissist because you’re scared of being alone. If you’re a Narcissist you crave attention and are scared to be alone but fears of loneliness doesn’t turn people into narcissists.

Now… is Loki a Narcissist? It’s kind of ridicule Loki would self diagnose it to himself, especially without any competence in psychology which on Asgard doesn’t seem to exist or they would know adopting a child and not telling him he’s adopted ends up badly in 99,9% of the cases. He’s probably using the term loosely but whatever, let’s run with it.

@lucianalight wrote an awesome essay (whose reading I recommend along with the others of the same series) explaining why he isn’t and Cinematherapy who can count on a real therapist, did a video explaining why he is. So who’s right?

Both and neither.

Let’s start with Cinematherapy as they employ a professional.

If you watch the video (recorded prior to the series) you realize they make a HUGE canon mistake right at the start. They assume Loki’s magical powers come from Loki being a Frost Giant.

That’s not bad will from their part, this is actually based on how they’ve watched the movies… and nothing else so they skipped all the additional side material and cut scenes. They didn’t watch the cut scene in “Thor: The Dark World” saying how Loki learnt magic from his mother nor read it in a side material publication or interview. They have no idea Loki’s sceptre was influencing him in “The Avengers” because that’s only written on Marvel’s web and not present in the movies and don’t seem to consider Loki in the year between “Thor” and “The Avengers” had to go through something terrible that could involve Thanos and torture or even death since that was only mentioned in interviews and in pretty vague terms. They consider “Thor: Ragnarok” part of the canon without considering how Taika Waititi deliberately, for his own admission, retconned it.

So their analysis uses the 5 movies and considers Loki in ‘perfect’ psychological state through the 5 of them. And it makes sense Cinematherapy analysis are meant to talk to casual viewers not to fans who knows everything about the movies.

@lucianalight instead considers all the side material included the cut scenes and the interview and discard “Thor: Ragnarok”. As a fan who well knows the story and the authors’ intentions she has access to a completely different set of information that Cinematherapy didn’t use in their analysis.

The result is that Cinematherapy and @lucianalight fundamentally looked at two different stories, albeit rooted on the same movies, and since they analyzed different material, they came up with contrasting analysis in which neither is wrong because they’re basically analyzing two different Variants of Loki.

But what’s the Variant we should look at to understand if the Loki of “Loki” is a Narcissist or not?

The real problem with diagnosing a character of fictional works is that said character is well… fictional. He can’t have a personality disorder, said disorder needs to be scripted into him by the writers… who often know very little of psychology, which is why I prefer to use trope to analyze characters than the effective mental disorders.

But with Loki we’ve a huge problem, because, in addition to the writers not being experienced about disorders, we’re talking about writerS, plural.

There’s more people writing Loki, and each of them can’t agree on how to interpret him.

So we have:

“Thor” in which Loki hardly presents traits of Narcissism.

“The Avengers” in which he presents them.

“Thor: The Dark World” in which he alternates presenting them, depending on the scene being written by Whedon or Don Payne (who also worked on “Thor”) and Robert Rodat.

“Thor: Ragnarok” in which he presents traits of Narcissism.

“Avengers: Infinity War” in which he doesn’t present them, if you read the interview, he’s just saying whatever comes to his mind to try to get a chance to kill Thanos and save his brother aware he can easily get killed… or in which he presents them if you don’t read the interviews and believes he’s persuaded he will come on the top.

If you mix the movies together and take them as they are without checking the additional material, the ones in which he presents traits of Narcissisms ends up colouring the view of the ones in which he doesn’t.

If you consider only “Thor” and “Thor: The Dark World” (the Don Payne and Robert Rodat part) which tried to keep the same continuity as the same scriptwriter was involved in both of them, he doesn’t.

I’ll be honest though, I think Marvel wants to slap that disorder on him.

They’ve discovered it’s oh so funny to have Loki feel so high and mighty and then be humbled down by having the Hulk smash him or Thor tossing him out of a spaceship or electrocuting him or Sif kicking him in his groins.

However I think Marvel is trying to milk their cow too much.

The scenes in which Loki is humbled work wonderfully in “The Avengers” because Loki genuinely felt high and mighty to the viewers to the point we didn’t expect him to be defeated, so seeing him being humbled down by the Hulk, by Hawkeye’s arrow, by Coulson shooting at him, were all powerful moves.

You didn’t expect them, Loki was a real threat in the movie and you’re as surprised as him when he gets defeated.

I mean when Hawkeye throws his arrow and Loki grabs it with no effort, it pushes you to think ‘oh, he’s too strong’ only for it to explode in his face.

You don’t get the same feeling in this series.

Loki is not strong nor particularly competent or bright. His words aren’t profound nor persuasive. His confidence seems baseless, his humbling down becomes expected, here, against Sif, he basically did NOTHING, except being beaten up. His verbal efforts to stop her were pathetic.

You aren’t surprised by Sif beating him, by Sif not being persuaded by his first weak attempts at stopping her verbally, his words aren’t convincing, his attempts at stopping her physically, inexistent.

It gets boring for the viewer as well as it ultimately gets ‘boring’ for Loki who, at a certain point says:

Loki: I've heard it once, I've heard it a thousand times. "You. You conniving, craven, pathetic worm. You did this." Right?

He’s no more affected, it had become routine and it is for us too.

It’s a fail a wasted scene.

Overall I think Waldron doesn’t think highly of Loki. He views him as a Narcissist who thinks highly about himself but in truth is nothing special. A comic relief, an agent of chaos. At the same time… I’m not sure he knows what a Narcissist is, or that he’s thinking at the Narcissistic personality disorder because this Loki shows empathy. In this episode he showed he is not envious of Sylvie and his arrogant behaviour is a cover to cover up his weakness.

So honestly… whatever, I don’t care. No, okay, I do.

I’m sad because I see a lot of people working hard in this series, from the actors to Kate Herron who really love Loki and wanted this job but for me the plot of a story and the characterization of the characters are important and only Sergio Leone can pull out a masterpiece with a man with no name and a poor script.

Mind you, this episode is better than the previous in terms of plot but… overall is weak. I really, really hope the series will improve in Ep 5 and 6 because episode 3 & 4 just weren’t that great.

I really want Loki to have a great series but wanting it and getting it aren’t necessarily the same things.

Anyway back to the plot.

Although after Loki’s confession Sif doesn’t beat him and help him to get up this is what she tells him.

Sif: You are alone and you always will be.

Basically yeah, Loki’s confession meant nothing because he can’t change anything. He can’t get attention or company, not even behaving better. This is Sif’s message in the end. He’s pathetic and this time she doesn’t beat him up because it feels like beating a pathetic person.

Now, I’m not saying she should have forgiven him. Not this Sif. But the overall situation is warped. Although she didn’t mean to, she technically beat him nonstop, he had way more than enough, and if Sif hadn’t been trapped into a timeloop she would have known.

This Sif was used as a toy to do a job Mobius didn’t want to do personally.

It’s overall a sick situation and, since this Sif didn’t know she had been abusing Loki for only God knows how long, although she helps him to stand she rightfully doesn’t feel they’re even.

And though Loki had gotten a break from being beaten, it’s clear his admission ultimately did nothing good to him psychologically. If he’s alone and will always be as such… why should he care he hurts others? Why shouldn’t he take a bit of fun where he can?

And all this is psychological manipulation of course because then Mobius appears like a balm.

LOKI: There's not many people that can sneak up on me. (turns to see NATASHA STANDING THERE)

NATASHA: But you figured I'd come.

LOKI: After. After whatever tortures Fury can concoct, you would appear as a friend, as a balm. And I would cooperate.

Now… I have not the slightest idea of what Mobius is planning to do here. He doesn’t trust Loki, he doesn’t really want the truth, whatever that can be, he wants a truth of his liking and this is not negotiable.

Loki tells him that he’ll give him info only if he’ll let him out of the place and stop beating him and he decides this means Loki previously wasn’t telling the truth because he’s not being submissive enough.

Mobius makes clear he wants to hear about the plan between Loki and the Variant and that he wants Loki to give him the answers he wants, not the truth. Which is stupid because instead he needs the truth.

When Loki tells him the truth, that he wasn’t partner with Sylvie, he’s dismissive of his answer.

Mobius: Yeah, I guess you don't do partners. Unless, of course, it benefits you, and you intend to betray them at some point.

Loki insists on not having a partnership with Sylvie.

Loki: It was a means to an end, Mobius. Welcome to the real world. Down there, we're awful to get what we want.

Mobius: Now I gotta have a prince tell me how the real world works?

I hate this mentality that has started to develop into Marvel movies as if royalty lived a fairy tale life and could have no idea of the real world, especially the part in which ‘we're awful to get what we want’ because it’s dumb. Royalty has an history of being awful to get what they want that’s as long as the start of civilization. If Mobius doesn’t know, maybe he is the one who has no idea how the real world work, how many wars had been declared because a king wanted the land of his neighbour or something else. How they could accuse people of betrayal or of imaginary crimes to get rid of them.

Laufey is a king and moved war to Earth. Odin is a king and drowned civilizations in blood.

T’Chaka is a king and abandoned his nephew so as to cover an unwanted truth.

The Supreme Intelligence of the Kree Empire took advantage of Carol Danvers, altering her memories.

And that’s just the Marvel universe. So really Mobius, are you sure that all royalty is the equivalent of Disney princesses who sings are lovely and have talking pets?

And then Mobius does a really STUPID question.

Mobius: Why don't you just tell me what caused the nexus event on Lamentis?

So the series has gone to a great length to establish people doesn’t know they cause a nexus event. They can’t see the sacred timeline they move at random and SLAM, sometimes they end up doing something they didn’t know they weren’t planned to do and it results in a nexus event. BUT THEY DIDN’T KNOW IT BEFOREHAND! SO HOW IS LOKI SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!?

But anyway they clearly weren’t supposed to be there so everything they do can create a disturbance if it’s not erased by the apocalypse. For example if they sent a missile to destroy the neighbour planet before Lamentis 1 was destroyed they clearly would affect the Sacred Timeline because the neighbouring planet wasn’t meant to get blasted away.

But still… they found them there, waiting for destruction with no means to escape and with no idea the TVA would have appeared because they broke the sacred timeline.

It’s kind of a giant warning sign they’ve no idea what they’ve done.

So Mobius demanding to know feels as if they had dumbed down Mobius as well.

Loki wants to play stubborn and he has good reasons since he fears for his life.

Loki: Let me say this again. I'm not going to tell you just so you can turn around immediately afterwards and prune me.

In reply Mobius decides Loki needs to be tortured by Sif some more.

So Loki does what Remigio Da Varagine did when Bernardo Gui promised to torture him, he tells Mobius what he believes Mobius wants to hear, that of course they were accomplices and of course they had a plan and he was in charge of it.

Only Mobius has decided that Sylvie is the better Loki so he doesn’t believe Loki is in control and, to test him, he tells him Sylvie was pruned.

This hits Loki as he has grown feelings for Sylvie. He tries to play it as he doesn’t care but Mobius guesses he’s affected.

On a sidenote the series painting Loki oh so transparent affects negatively Thor as well as Thor never seems to realize it when Loki is affected, which leads to the implication Thor is either dumb or doesn’t care or… he’s written by someone else who thinks Loki is better at masking his feelings.

Mind you, in the movies Loki has moments in which is feelings are on display for everyone to see but also moments in which they’re guarded. Here they simply are not. In the series his feelings are constantly on display as if he somehow has lost the ability to guard them even if he tries to.

Anyway Mobius decides that Loki caring for the variant means he got a crush on her. I wish I could say he’s wrong but this is what Waldron has to say on the topic:

“That was one of the cruxes of my pitch [for the series], that there was going to be a love story. We went back and forth for a little bit about, like do we really want to have this guy fall in love with another version of himself? Is that too crazy? But in a series that, to me, is ultimately about self-love, self-reflection, and forgiving yourself, it just felt right that that would be Loki's first real love story. The look that they share, that moment, [it started as] a blossoming friendship. Then for the first time, they both feel that twinge of, ‘Oh, could this be something more? What is this I'm feeling?’ These are two beings of pure chaos that are the same person falling in love with one another. That's a straight-up and down branch, and exactly the sort of thing that would terrify the TVA.” [Loki Writer Explains Episode 4's Sylvie Love Story Reveal]

Why there needs to be a love story? A romantic love story? Self-love is different from self-cest. Learning to appreciate yourself doesn’t mean you suddenly wants to date yourself.

Besides, if the whole point was having Loki fall for himself, then let Sylvie be him!

Sylvie is so different from him she could very well be a different person... and it’s actually worth to ponder a bit on this.

As I said before Sylvie is genetically different from Loki. By logic this would mean more than Loki, she’s Loki’s fraternal twin from a parallel dimension. Only, if the TVA prunes whatever diverges by the sacred timeline this means she should have been pruned at birth because the sacred timeline has a male Loki. But no, she gets the time to grow up till… the Asgardian equivalent of 10 years old?

And only because back then she has somehow made something that didn’t fit with the timeline?

What was that, she was told she was adopted and, since her parents this time did things properly she felt loved instead than the monster parents tell their children at night and was about to grow up as a psychologically healthy girl?

Anyway, back to the problem, we’ll see at the end that, among the other Loki there’s also another Loki who clearly doesn’t have the same genetic code of Loki. No, I’m not talking of the Loki played by Deobia Oparei, Loki’s skin colour was supposed to be blue, it’s of course worth questioning why Odin went for black instead than white this time (does he come with an Asgard where everyone is a person of colour?) but it can be just the result of Odin’s magic. What I’m talking about is the Loki alligator.

Because normally who give birth to alligators aren’t frost giants but alligators… that or Asgard was populated by alligators. Or, that Loki was magically turned into an alligator but somehow I doubt it.

So anyway, if Loki might not share the same genetic code with his variants and not being pruned at birth… this works for Laufey too. This works for everyone.

Basically all the Variants could be completely different people who happen to share the same name.

In a way we know about the TVA work as much as we knew before episode 1. Sometimes they accuse someone deciding he broke the timeline… but sometime they don’t care if such break is done. Why? Because the Time-Keepers say so.

Great, whatever, I really don’t see the need of Loki falling in love for a version of himself who couldn’t be more different from himself than Sylvie is. At this point he could have fallen in love for anyone, even B-15.

Couldn’t they put in the show Verity Willis instead than Mobius and Sylvie?

The genuine friendship and appreciation they have in the comic which is also part of what saved Loki in the end was much better than the ‘friendship’ he has with Mobius or the abrupt crush for Sylvie.

And mind you, I like Sylvie as a character. I just don’t like what the series is doing with her.

Mobius too is well done as a character… but he’s the farthest thing from a friend for Loki.

Back to the story Mobius is having the time of his life because Loki is in pain for Sylvie’s supposed death since he has fallen for her.

Because friends obviously love it when you’re in pain when you believe your crush is dead.

Then he goes and say:

Mobius: No wonder you have no clue what caused the nexus event on Lamentis. Both of you are swooning over each other.

Wait so he knew Loki has no clue about what caused the Nexus event? And despite this he tortured Loki? And now he claims Loki has no clue because he and Sylvie were swooning over each other? Because that’s always what happened when a Nexus event happens, isn’t it? People swoon on someone else and don’t realize they’re causing a Nexus event. Loki was probably swooning on the Tesseract and Sylvie on her Valkyrie doll, right? The logic here is big.

Mobius: It's the apocalypse. Two Variants of the same being, especially you, forming this kind of sick, twisted romantic relationship. That's pure chaos. That could break reality. It's breaking my reality right now. What a incredible seismic narcissist. You fell for yourself.

Yeah, the sacred timeline is something that can bear people being turned into slaves, Jewish people being gassed into concentration camps, children being abused, terrorism, the destruction of Pompeii, New York being attacked by the Chitauri, Lamentis 1 getting destroyed, Bucky being turned into a slave of Hydra, Asgard being destroyed, Peter losing his parents, Thanos purging half of the universe, Tony Stark having to die when they could have just wiped away the Thanos that went into the future but God forbid two Loki were to commit selfcest. What are lives lost compared to selfcest?

Much, much better to wipe away half of all the living things than that.

Because…

“These are two beings of pure chaos that are the same person falling in love with one another. That's a straight-up and down branch, and exactly the sort of thing that would terrify the TVA.” [Loki Writer Explains Episode 4's Sylvie Love Story Reveal]

Ah, okay, great, it’s just because they’re two beings of pure chaos. If it had been Captain America falling for a Variant of himself the timeline would have clapped at him. No really, I still hope you take back this somehow and say it was all to mislead us because for me it’s not a problem of selfcest. It’s a HUGE problem of something called LOGIC. What’s this “Alice in the wonderland”? Mobius continues being a good, supportive friend by mocking Loki when she tells him the Variant’s name was Sylvie. Really Loki, with friends like this you were better with Thanos calling himself your dad. Finally anyway Loki manages to have Mobius tell him Sylvie is still alive, which gives him some relief, then Mobius goes on.

Mobius: And was infiltrating the TVA, was that always sort of the grand plan?

Wait, is he implying that when Loki produced his first Nexus event he did it so he could infiltrate in the TVA? Because of course he would know that they wouldn’t prune him but Mobius would come to his rescue? What had Mobius been drinking? Then when Loki tells Mobius maybe the Time-Keepers need to be overthrown Mobius goes:

Mobius: I ought to box your ears.

Because of course, violence is the solution and Loki should only be grateful to the Time-Keepers who kidnapped him and want to terminate him, shouldn’t he? Mobius is simply terrible here… which I don’t like because in a while I’ll be supposed to feel sad for him.

Loki now tries to tell Mobius the truth… only Mobius doesn’t want to listen, he claims Loki already told him 50 lies in the past 10 minutes without even considering he called for them as he tortured Loki to get what he wanted to hear, not the truth and anyway, if Loki isn’t trustworthy why they’re having that discussion?

Plus he belittles everything Loki says by basically downplaying Sylvie. She’s his girlfriend, his female self. She’s not her own. And of course in addition to downplaying Sylvie he has to insult Loki’s feelings because that’s what friends are for.

Mobius: Whatever you want to call her. What, your female self that you have some demented crush on...

Honestly, if Mobius had had a crush on Loki I would have waved this as him being jealous and bitter Loki found someone else but he does not. He took possession of Loki, looked down on him as some sort of pet, tried to manipulate him into obedience and babbled of a friendship that clearly didn’t exist and that had no reason to exist even if he hadn’t acted as a jerk because they barely know each other.

Friendship is something earned over time, not something others own you because you save them from death provided they’ll work for you.

What in the world is the TVA idea of friendship?

Anyway Loki informs him they’re all Variants and all the truth connected to it.

For a moment it seems to work, Mobius seems to be affected.

But this isn’t a truth Mobius wanted to hear because it ruins the basis of the TVA and the TVA is…

Mobius: Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real.

So Mobius goes and call all of that a lie and since he hadn’t been a jerk enough he felt the need to play Odin’s role and remind Loki of his path in the sacred timeline.

Mobius: You two, what a pair! Gosh! Unbelievable. Wherever you go, it's just death, destruction, the literal ends of worlds.

What a friend, huh? Honestly I think he went for that line deliberately, because he has seen Loki’s life in the sacred timeline and saw Odin tossing a similar line to him and knows it hurt him.

Odin: Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes? Wherever you go there is war, ruin and death.

It’s also probably worth to mention this Loki hadn’t caused any of the ends of the worlds he’s been in.

Then he does what everyone expected, he decided he didn’t need Loki anymore and could get rid of him.

Mobius: Well, I'm gonna have to close this case now, 'cause I don't need you anymore. Yeah, or as you might say, our interests are no longer aligned.

Honestly I don’t like the idea of Loki falling for Sylvie but with people like Mobius around him… why am I complaining? Sylvie, who also attacked and belittled him, was much better as she didn’t go and called herself his friend at least. She was more honest than Mobius so congratulation Mobius, you beat the Goddess of Mischief.

On a sidenote the lines red and grey on the wall give me the feeling they’re in a circus tent. So yeah

Loki: The Time-Keepers have built quite the circus, and I see the clowns are playing their parts to perfection.

Anyway Loki is dragged away to be tortured by Sif again. Because Mobius hadn’t had him beaten up into submission enough before killing him. This is just sadistic.

This time Loki though is so angry he’s calm.

Loki: You know, of all the liars in this place, and there are a great many, you're the biggest.

Mobius: Why? 'Cause I lied about your girlfriend?

Loki: Oh, no. That I can respect. I mean, the lies you tell yourself.

Honestly I hate how Mobius continues to call Sylvie ‘his girlfriend’, not because I don’t like the idea of them paired together but because I get it’s Mobius’ way to belittle them both. She’s not her own person, not Sylvie, she’s Loki’s female self that he has some demented crush on. That’s all he makes her to be.

I don’t know what happened to Mobius in this episode. He seemed to have moral standards in Ep 1 & 2. He didn’t seem to enjoy hurting others for no reason. Now he does.

Well, at least Loki gets to call him on the lies he tells himself.

So, a break here. Great acting from both, good direction from Kate Herron, dumb plot.

The idea is that Mobius is questioning Loki to know what caused the Nexus event, right? But instead than his intelligence he uses physical torture. Now it would be fine if he needed to get a confession and didn’t care about the truth but he cares about the truth, he needs it to prevent future nexus events. Only no, he doesn’t care. Whatever.

Then he tries to see if Loki has feelings about Sylvie, which he does and jumps to the idea that Loki must love her because since they’re a male and a female there’s no other way to care for each other if not romantic love. He can’t view her as a sister or have pity of her, no it has to be romantic love and Waldron backs him up so it is and so this has to be what broke the timeline because… the timeline can tolerate any sort of crime but not selfcest committed by chaotic beings?

It must be this because if Mobius find something demented the timeline would as well, we’ve proofs… no we don’t have it is just speculation but Mobius read Waldron’s interview so he knows it’s true.

So Mobius has his answer, the timeline is against selfcest. Case closed. Logic thrown out of the window notwithstanding.

But then Loki really tells him the truth but Mobius doesn’t like it so let’s torture Loki some more. Because Mobius is so intelligent he can tell when Loki is lying, the series has already established it, so this has to be Loki lying right? And Mobius let him be tortured despite claiming he’s Loki’s friend and having tons of doubts about what C-20 saw and how Rendlayer is acting oddly because that’s what friends do. It has Thanos’ seal of approbation after all.

Whatever, let’s go on.

So we move to Hunter B-15 doing calming breaths as she’s clearly very upset. It’s worth to remember she was depicted as hating Variants the most. Her gaze falls on a poster recommending to capture all the variants and make sure to delete them all.

The fun part is that the guy on that poster remind me of the Mobius of the comics… but maybe it’s just me.

After this B-15 turns on her weapon and orders the ones guarding the entrance of the theatre in which they had put Sylvie to let her in. They don’t even discuss or hesitate, they just let her in.

Sylvie acts in the confident manner Loki used to act in “The Avengers” when he was prisoner of the Avengers.

Sylvie: Hello... Oh, I don't know. Your name's a number. Can't read it from here.

As she says so she moves closer. B-15 though put away her weapon, opens a timedoor and tells her to come with her.

Why they go away through a timedoor? Couldn’t they talk there? Isn’t it more risky as not only Sylvie could use this to escape but they might risk altering the oh so sacred timeline? Are there hearing devices in the theatre? Does the guards outside eavesdrop?

Whatever, we’re back to Renslayer’s office.

Mobius is thoughtful, Renslayer is happy because the case is closed. So Mobius really presented as excuse for the branch the fact that Loki and Sylvie supposedly fell in love? Because if Loki cares for someone is romantic love? He cried for Frigga too, for Asgard? Why it has to be romantic love for Mobius? Because Sylvie is a woman and Loki is a man and God forbid a man could care for a female in any other way that’s not romantic? Because the script said so? Couldn’t he care for her like a twin sister? She even acts like Thor here and there but she’s smarter than him. Would the timeline branch anyway?

Whatever, I guess I’m not meant to make questions but if the case is closed why he had to stuck Loki again in that timeloop to be beaten and humiliated? It’s not like Renslayer is checking him and even if she were or the Time-Keepers were which would have been the harm in letting him sit there like Sylvie is?

For which reason Mobius is trying so hard to break him? Revenge? He didn’t seem such a jerk in Ep 1 & 2 and now… why has he changed?

Anyway Mobius is beyond obvious acting weird despite Renslayer being all happy for the case closed and asking him

Renslayer: If you could go anywhere, anytime, where would it be?

She clearly mean for personal pleasure, maybe she plans on letting him have a holiday anywere he’d like but Mobius doesn’t seem to get it.

Mobius: I can go anywhere, anytime.

His reply hints he reduces everything to work, to going anywhere, anytime for work and while Renslayer tries to get him to open up he asks again why she didn’t let him interrogate ‘Sylvie’, which is a mistake as when in Renslayer’s office he usually calls the Variants just Variants, not by name, unless it’s necessary. Besides Renslayer doesn’t know the Variant’s chosen alias so she’s twice as confused.

Mobius has to explain ‘Sylvie’ is how Loki calls the Variant and Renslayer tells him it wasn’t so as to make sure it wouldn’t escape, and when Mobius says she wouldn’t have escaped (because Mobius is so good at keeping the Loki Variants close) she reminds him the other Variant did escape while in his care (yeah, twice, Mobius you aren’t as good as you like to present yourself).

Renslayer tries again to get him to answer her on where he’s like to go and he replies

Mobius: I like being here now, with you, doing the work.

Which is solely because he’s deadly scared of admitting he’d like to be some other place. He doesn’t like his life there, he loves jet ski and would like to ride one but he’s just scared to do so and finds comfort in the monotony of his own life. Which is beyond depressing and is part of the lies he tells himself.

Renslayer gives up and informs him she’d heard the Time-Keepers and they will personally oversee the Variant's pruning and they want Mobius to be there as well. I take that with ‘the Variant’ they mean Sylvie but later we’ll see Loki too is carried in front of them.

Why they want Mobius too though? To make sure he’ll stay put? To prune him as well because he’s being as suspicious as possible?

Mobius seems pleased he’ll finally met the Time-Keeper then oh so discreetly goes back on questioning Renslayer. On C-20 this time. Which obviously makes Renslayer even more suspicious.

She tries to deflect his question by pointing out how everything went well, the Time-Keepers are happy and yadda, yadda and Mobius insists again on wanting to know about C-20… because this was totally smooth and not suspicious at all.

And this is bad because this guy is the one who’s supposed to be at Loki’s same level if not above. If he’s so incompetent it reflects poorly on Loki too.

Yeah, he was very upset by C-20’s death so maybe this is messing him up but still he couldn’t be more obvious, insisting over and over when Renslayer clearly doesn’t want to tell him more. What does he expect, her to admit she lied? She’s not a Variant he can torture, or keep there until he gets the answers he wants, she’s basically his boss.

Anyway Renslayer, probably due to her fondness for him, confirms her previous version and tells him if he’s not allowed to meet the Variant that’s because she’s protecting him from facing the horrible fate C-20 went through.

I think this requires a bit of appropriate singing from another movie:

Shhh.. Trust me Mobius, Ravonna, knows best. Ravonna knows best. Listen to your Ravonna. She's a scary Variant that Sylvie. Ravonna knows best. One way or another. Something will go wrong, I swear. Stabbing, kicking, poison, punching. Stealing, and humiliating, the lies. Also large sword, a woman with pointy teeth. And stop, no more, you'll just upset me. Ravonna's right here. Ravonna will protect you. Darling here's what I suggest. Skip the drama, stay with Ravonna. RAVONNA!! Knows best! Ravonna knows best. Take it from your Ravonna. On your own, you won't survive. Sloppy underdressed, immature, clumsy, Please, they'll eat you up, alive. Gullible, nave, positively grubby. Ditzy and a bit, well, hmm vague. Plus I believe, getting kinda chubby. I'm just saying, 'Cause I wuv you. Ravonna understands, Ravonnas here to help you. All I have is one request. (singing ends) Mobius? Don't ever ask to see the Variant, again.

Evidently Mother Gothel… pardon Renslayer’s performance doesn’t fully win Mobius over.

Mobius: Yeah, if it's the truth.

Intelligence? Or, like with Loki he has already decided with answer he needs to get?

Renslayer now tries to distract him blaming everything on the time Mobius spent with the Lokis, implying that because they lie he came up to think she would lie too and then she gives him an inspirational speech about how their work matter and how they’re special friends.

Renslayer: When we're out there fighting for the fate of the Sacred Timeline we're also fighting for this. For us. Friends against time, allies to the end. You've seen all of existence, same as me. So, you know, friendship like ours is uncommon. And worth fighting for. Same as the Sacred Timeline.

So Mobius has friends.

Or at least he has Renslayer.

Does he plan to close her too in a timeloop for lying to him? Or, since she was used to always humour him (this is apparently the first time she told him ‘no’) he expected Loki too had to play on his tune, especially considering Loki isn’t his boss, and got upset when Loki showed a mind of his own?

Or is Renslayer who taught him who disappoint gets closed in a timeloop where he’s punched and insulted by doing this to Mobius?

I’d like to know.

Whatever, this speech persuaded Mobius so much he distract Renslayer suggesting to find a place for her new trophy only to swap the Tempads behind her back… and then oh so discreetly try to run away because this wouldn’t be suspicious at all.

Smooth, Mobius, smooth.

 Okay, so B-15 took Sylvie to the Roxxcart apocalypse since now she knows the TVA can’t detect changes if they happen in an apocalypse.

Sylvie thinks she wants a fight but B-15 is instead tormented by what Sylvie had shown her when she possessed her.

Now, everyone, let’s refresh our memory on how enchantment works.

Sylvie: It depends on the mind. Most are easy and I can overtake them instantly. Others, the stronger ones, it gets tricky. I'm in control, but they're there, too. In order to preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories.

B-15 was overtaken very easily with Sylvie fully in control of her as she moved her like a puppet and had her say what she wanted. So why in the world she needed to show her a memory? We saw how things worked with C-20, she used the memory to answer in kind to her questions believing she was with a friend. What she did to B-15 to make her move and say what she wanted, did she had a memory in which she was an actress and Sylvie read her the script?

I’ve no words, they gave the rule 1 episode ago, don’t they remember them anymore?

So anyway Sylvie tells B-15 the truth and B-15, the one who believes talking to Variant is a mistake and they should all be pruned as they’re cosmic mistakes immediately swallows what the Variant who’d been killing TVA agents non-stop tells her and volunteers to let herself be possessed again.

Because this wouldn’t be dangerous at all, I mean, surely Sylvie who has a grudge against the TVA and has been killing TVA agents won’t lie to her and wouldn’t just possess her to steal her tempad and escape leaving her to die in the apocalypse.

Yeah, surely because Sylvie, instead than possessing her, does as she request and shows her those memories and B-15 can be sure they’re true and not a trick because… she too read the script and know they’re true.

So B-15, who had been pruning, abusing and belittling other Variants like her, once knowing she’s a Variant says:

Hunter B-15: I looked happy.

With tears in her voice. Okay, so she also sides with Sylvie but… don’t take me wrong, different people react differently but let’s look for a moment B-15’s reaction at discovering she’s a Variant, a cosmic mistake.

B-15 was the one who hated Variants the most… but knowing she was one all she cares was she looked happy. What’s her problem she was miserable at the TVA? I didn’t notice. She just accepted she’s a Variant so easily… everyone else, even people who didn’t hate Variants will have more problems with it. C-20 was in shock, Mobius goes in denial, Loki basically went mad with grief when he discovered he was a Frost Giant.

B-15 mourns that she was happy and then asks for instructions to Sylvie.

I wonder if she’s the sort of person who can’t think on her own. She did what the TVA propaganda said because she never stopped to think about it, she got an easy to posses mind, and now she’s willing to do what Sylvie says because she can’t think at it on her own.

To be honest… although I feel what the TVA did to the people working there was pretty disgusting, I find hard on an intellectual level to empathize with someone who had been enjoying pruning and abusing Variants and now that she has discovered she’s one she doesn’t regret what she did to the others like her but mourn her old happiness.

Anyway I compliment Wunmi Mosaku for this scene. I’m not persuaded by how they decided she would just swallow she’s a Variant so easily, but still she played well the part.

Empathically, to see another being so grief stricken, causes me to react emotionally, even though logically I feel I shouldn’t care because they didn’t give me reasons to feel sorry for someone who was so happy to be an abuser and doesn’t regret having been one, she still managed to make me feel sorry for her character because her sadness was emotionally involving.

Really, good job, and good job to Kate Herron who played that scene well.

We switch to Mobius who hides among bookshelves to check Renslayer’s tempad.

I love the visual here, how it seems we’re pecking on Mobius by a hole but whatever, might be just me.

Renslayer’s tempad confirms C-20 died so Mobius is about to close it when he decides to check the classified report of the mission on Renslayer’s tempad. Renslayer conveniently recorded C-20 saying:

Hunter C-20: You're not hearing me. I was there. This was real, what I saw. This is a place that I've been. This wasn't the TVA. This was a memory. I lived down there. I went to that bar. I had friends. I had a whole life on the Sacred Timeline.

Interrogator: Calm down.

Hunter C-20: "Calm down"? I'm a Variant. So are you. So is every single person in this place. I'm ending this.

So yeah, Mobius, Loki didn’t lie to you, you moron, that excuse was way too dumb to be a lie.

Also C-20 never went mad as Renslayer said. Because it was Renslayer who lied to you, Mobius. Because in the real world people are awful to get what we want and maybe you should take lessons from a prince.

Just as to remark Renslayer knew this and not just because it’s on her tempad, she also appear on the screen, proof she was listening. To do what I don’t know.

We go back to Loki who’s just being beaten by Sif again because Mobius, his friend, couldn’t let him sit on a chair while he checked if Loki told him the truth. We also see how all this beating isn’t really breaking Loki.

Although he has previously apologized to Sif and accepted his fault, now he’s just annoyed he has to hear her saying such things over and over and beating him.

Because beating people doesn’t make them better.

On another side, since Loki knew what he had to tell to Sif to make her stop I wonder why he didn’t repeat it… or why he didn’t try to think of a plan. Whatever.

Mobius drops there with the dumbest question of the year:

Mobius: What are you doing?

Loki has a sarcastic reply for his idiotic question:

Loki: Passing the time.

No, really, Mobius trapped him there, what was he thinking Loki was doing, playing poker with Sif?

So now is Mobius’ time for another dumb question:

Mobius: Do you care about her?

I mean, after you called her his female self that he, a seismic narcissist, have some demented crush on, of course Loki wants to open his heart to you. Who wouldn’t?

Mobius tells him to shut up and then asks if he really think you deserve to be alone… as if this was Loki’s idea and not something Mobius’ tried to brainwash him into believing. Loki doesn’t reply which upset Mobius as when Mobius says ‘jump’ Loki should only say ‘how high?’, so Loki point out how MOBIUS TOLD HIM TO SHUT UP. Because Mobius is not making any sense and Loki needs to lampshade this.

Mobius asks him if he thinks he deserves to be alone.

Loki replies he doesn’t know which means his pretty words to Sif were all pretty words. He didn’t believe them, not fully. Thanks God.

So now the conversation starts to get surreal.

Mobius: You better figure it out quick, because the nexus event the two of you caused, whatever that connection is, can bring this whole place down.

Okay, I’m not following this, after belittling Loki’s relation with Sylvie now he’s trying to tell him he has to get together with her for the sake of bringing down the TVA? That’s why Loki has to get with Sylvie? Why he doesn’t have to believe he deserves to be alone? So now Loki’s crush is no more demented but a key to throw down the TVA?

What was sticking him with Sif then, an attempt at manipulating him into not getting in relationship with other Lokis? So Mobius knew already he and Sylvie had a crush on each other? Because it looked like he stuck Loki with Sif PRIOR to knowing it.

I’m lost but whatever, Mobius decide THEY have to do something so Loki remarks on the use of plural.

Mobius asks him to swear Sylvie didn’t implant whose memories in C-20.

It’s a dumb question as not only Loki could lie but Sylvie could have lied to him and anyway Renslayer lied so it’s not like she’s safe to trust either.

Loki vouches for Sylvie and Mobius asks:

Mobius: So, I just have to trust the word of two Lokis?

No, please, Mobius, don’t. You’ve wasted everyone’s time questioning Loki when you don’t believe him. Really, I don’t get why you wanted to use someone you don’t trust. What did you come there for if you can’t believe him?

At this Loki, who’s at first hurt, replies:

Loki: How about the word of a friend?

And okay, it has to be Stockholm Syndrome talking. That or masochism. Because friends don’t close you in a timeloop in which you get beaten and humiliated for all that time so really Loki, don’t be Mobius’ friend.

So now Mobius admits Loki was right about the TVA from the beginning, which was damn time and would have realized it sooner had he spared 5 minutes of his time on this and tells him if Loki wants to save Sylvie he has to trust him. Because Mobius never lied and manipulated him, no, really. You’re lucky Loki has Stockholm Syndrome so of course he’ll trust you.

So Mobius goes:

Mobius: Okay. You could be whoever, whatever you wanna be, even someone good. I mean, just in case anyone ever told you different.

Yeah, someone did. Should I refresh you, your memory Mobius?

Mobius: You weren't born to be king, Loki. You were born to cause pain and suffering and death. That's how it is, that's how it was, that's how it will be. All so that others can achieve their best versions of themselves.

Or maybe you prefer this, which includes Sylvie too?

Mobius: You two, what a pair! Gosh! Unbelievable. Wherever you go, it's just death, destruction, the literal ends of worlds.

I mean, if this is Mobius’ way to apologize for all the things it tossed at Loki, it honestly sucks, and it gets worse because he’s merely doing because he needs him to cooperate with him because, guess what? As Loki told him from the start the TVA sucks and had been lying to him and he just didn’t want to see and has exchanged his own belief in the TVA for ‘truth’.

I mean, he’s probably being as sincere as he can be, as we know he has wondered if Loki could be good, but he has been so manipulative with Loki up until now that really, him saying Loki this when he needs Loki to trust him, only feels like him being manipulative.

Are we sure Mobius isn’t another Loki variant, one Renslayer wanted to keep as her pet?

Still I think Loki understood this was Mobius’ way to apologize as he smiles and follows him.

The moment they leave the Timeloop they find themselves face to face with Renslayer and four hunters.

And here it’s where the writer forgot Mobius too is supposed to be smart. For start because it didn’t dawn on him to remove Loki’s collar from him, to continue because when Renslayer points out she has something of hers he returns the Tempad, their only way to leave the place, to her.

I can explain this merely by going under the idea that Mobius still think that the fact they’re friends would push Renslayer to cover up for him, which clearly means he doesn’t know/understand her as much as he thinks.

Mbatha-Raw:

“She’s really worked hard to get where she is, so she’s not going to be reckless with the power that has been hard-earned for her. She, in some ways, is deeply indoctrinated with the ways of the TVA. She’s completely conditioned by their thinking and the idea of the Sacred Timeline, and the concept of free will is quite alien to her. She’s a believer. She believes in law and order, and it’s done quite well for her so far in terms of getting her to where she is. She’s not going to abandon her philosophy lightly.”

[‘Loki’: Owen Wilson Says Renslayer’s Betrayal of Mobius in Episode 4 Was ‘Pretty Shocking’

]

And in a way the situation we’re facing is really funny because Mobius believes Renslayer betrayed him… but she believes he’s the one who betrayed her. And this in a way mirrors Mobius’ relation with Loki.

To Renslayer Mobius had no right to doubt her, to question her decisions, to doubt the TVA even if the TVA is lying and she knows it. To her, Mobius is the dog who peed on the carpet.

Mobius instead somehow believed to be an equal friend, to whom she owed the truth, so he’s hurt by her acting as if he was just her disobedient dog.

She lied to him, manipulated him, demanded from him to be a loyal TVA supporter who only seek for her approbation and when he goes and doesn’t do this, she punishes him by pruning him. She doesn’t even try to beat him into submission again, she just get rid of him because her faith in her cult is more important than their ‘friendship’.

She’s a real Nazi in a way.

But the irony is that Mobius was the same with Loki and now he experiences what it means to be on the other side.

His emotional speech:

Mobius: What's the problem, Ravonna? You know where I'd go if I could go anywhere? Wherever it is I'm really from. Yeah, wherever I had a life before the TVA came along. Maybe I had a jet ski. That's what I'd like to do. Just riding around on my jet ski.

…it changes nothing in Renslayer’s mind, she’s like him, she doesn’t want the truth, the honesty, she wants submission but she’s not even going to waste time to work him into submission again. She probably plans to replace him with another Mobius Variant who’ll be more obedient this time.

Note that pruning him hurts her… but she has it done anyway, the way Mobius had oh so many branches pruned. Because that’s what they did at the TVA.

It’s a damn case of “‘I never thought leopards would eat MY face,' sobs woman who voted for the Leopards Eating People's Faces Party”.

Mobius never thought he would be the one ending up pruned, being a Variant and ending up pruned was other people’s problem, Loki’s problem, not Mobius’, Mobius was one of the good guys, he was created by the TVA so such things wouldn’t happen to him.

Now… this is the same problem I had with B-15.

We are supposed to feel sorry for Mobius and I probably would feel very sorry for him if he hadn’t been a complete asshole to Loki up till 5 minutes ago. I get maybe they were aiming to take advantage of Owen Wilson’s fans, who loved Mobius no matter what they do or to how Loki and Renslayer still mourn him because Stockholm syndrome pushes you to do this and your pet dog is always your pet dog even if you decide to shoot him down because, to you, he’s rabid but all I felt was that Mobius had got what he deserved, what he did to Loki was done to him.

And this is a goddamn shame because I would have been a lot sadder if Mobius hadn’t act in such a way in this episode.

I mean, yes, in episode 1 & 2 he was still manipulative but he had genuine moments in which he was sympathetic and didn’t want to gratuitously hurt people.

Mobius: What are you doing? Hey! These people are scared.

Hunter D-90: They're about to die. They should be scared.

Mobius: Okay. Not of us.

I love this scene because he just stood up for those people even if he had nothing to gain, just because he didn’t want the TVA to scare them even if they were about to die and would have been rest if they weren’t to die. This wasn’t manipulation, this was Mobius being a decent being and… and this episode just tossed it away.

His whole interrogation scene with Loki, from the moment he just had him beaten and belittled to ‘soften him’ to how he ends by having him beaten and belittled again even though the case is closed is nonsense and disgusting. That’s not what a decent human being would do.

On a positive note Mbatha-Raw is very good in the scene. It’s clear a part of her is suffering, yet another remains hard. She turns her face away because she can’t watch when Mobius is pruned, even the way she squeezed her eyes shut and then relaxed them but kept them closed is a nice detail and so is the way she looks at Loki, still hurt by Mobius’ disappearance but firm, how she takes long breaths after saying they’ve to wait for her, how she first looks down, as if ashamed then up, as if to ask the moral support of her gods or whatever and then closes her eyes and mouth as if to swallow it all and go on.

She’s good.

Mind you, I loved how Owen Wilson gave his speech and I love Tom Hiddleston’s reacting to him being pruned which interestingly opposes to Mbatha-Raw’s as he keeps his eyes wide open and he tries to reach for him where she instead close them and kind of tries to ‘hold away’ from him, her body posture close where Tom Hiddleston’s is open and then he closes his eyes, calm down and straighten up before facing her in a ‘it was your doing’ way. He let himself be carried away but he turns to look at her so as to keep eye contact with her and she’s the one who has to lower her gaze.

Now, I personally wish Loki wouldn’t mourn Mobius because really, Mobius wasn’t good to him, but since he’s supposed to do it, I can only say Tom Hiddleston’s performance here is good as well.

Very fitting also the background music, especially when Loki is escorted through the corridor and now he seems to be worn out as he waves a little as he walks and then… he stops, and I’m not sure if there’s a reason or he just waves a little for the sake of him being emotionally hurt and the guards have to steady him and then force him to resume walking. In itself that pause was good to animate a walking scene who otherwise would have been pretty boring… but I don’t know if there’s a reason for it beyond that. But well, Loki had been beaten up till now so maybe he has a right at also being physically worn out.

So anyway Renslayer go to see Sylvie and as soon as she does she claims someone was there with her and wants to know who. Well, I guess the fact Sylvie is soaked was a dead giveaway so really, they should have found her a hairdryer before sending her back there. Besides why not to get inside the Roxxcart where it’s dry, instead than outside?

I get that outside, under the rain, the scene came a lot more dramatic and so technically better but logic is king of important as well. Giving away that Sylvie was taken outside to chat, as Sylvie has no bruises on herself, is dumb. I mean, had B-15 given her a black eye they could have at least pass if for B-15 taking her revenge on her but like this… it’s so dumb…

In fact as soon as Renslayer discovers it was B-15, she decides she too had been compromised and people has to search for her. Not that it matters as they won’t find her. After all she has a Tempad and has learnt she can hide in apocalypses.

Sylvie smiles at her smugly because she is enjoying seeing Renslayer under pressure and how could she not? It was Renslayer who captured her.

Sylvie is then taken away but this time only by two guards because they’ve decided giving her more when the last time she managed to punch one is useless. No, actually Renslayer might have figured if Sylvie has remained in her ‘theater’ (yeah, she and Loki were put into rooms called ‘time theaters’) instead than escaping with B-15, she’s willing to let herself be dragged to meet the Time-Keepers.

Or not, the plot had the characters act in dumb or irrational ways way too often so I don’t know.

Sylvie is anyway taken in front of the same door in front of which Loki is waiting. I love how she whispers to him an ‘You okay?’ even if I would prefer it wasn’t because she’s also crushing on him but because she was touched by how he gave her appreciation and validation. Loki nods once, deeply, but doesn’t verbally replies which is kind of worrisome per se.

Renslayer says she’ll handle things from there and open the door of the golden elevator with her ‘electronic key’ meaning when Sylvie got there the first time, as she was without key, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Loki and Sylvie follow Renslayer while the guards remain behind.

Sylvie asks Renslayer is she remembers her and when she answers affirmatively, always calling her Variant, she asks her which was her Nexus event. To Renslayer who asks her what does it matter she replies:

Sylvie: It was enough to take my life from me, lead to all of this. Must have been important. So, what was it?

I feel bad for Sylvie because maybe she doesn’t remember Miss Minute’s video (by the way did Miss Minute had a reason to exist or we’re meant to forget about her?) in which they said to create a Nexus even it’s enough to be late for work. Maybe Sylvie wasn’t meant to be there to play but should have been in the Vault with Thor and Odin learning about how glorious was Asgard for having beaten the Frost Giants. Maybe she was just meant to play ball instead than dolls but in short, what destroyed her life didn’t have to be important because that’s the kind of jerks the TVA is.

They punish someone for doing something completely innocent without having any idea it was the ‘wrong’ thing, ‘wrong’ being a matter of perspective because I bet they pruned all the Lokis who didn’t sent the Frost Giants in the Vault or didn’t try to kill Thor or didn’t attack New York because THOSE WERE THINGS MEANT TO HAPPEN.

The TVA is not about morality, I wonder if it’s about the entertainment of the Time-Keepers.

Anyway Renslayer smirks and then tells Sylvie she doesn’t remember. Honestly I doubt she doesn’t remember and even if she did, she could have made up something but she just prefers to hurt Sylvie by implying her Nexus event was so unimportant it wasn’t even worth remembering.

The door open and they are in a bluish, foggy place. There are two guards giving them their back and two instead facing them and, in front of them there are the three space lizards known as the Time-Keepers. Hum… the impression I get is that the place is foggy because it’s freezing cold since there are white bits that seem ice but… I’m not sure as nobody seems to be feeling cold.

Renslayer announces to the Time-Keeper she had brought them the Variants.

Now I was thinking it was poor effects, as the space lizard talk in a mechanical way and are so still they seem robot and even when their face move as they speak they seem mechanical… but no, it’ll turn out they’re robot. Whatever, I’m running ahead.

The lizards ask them what they have to say before being killed.

Okay, so Loki says and I quote:

Loki: Is that the only reason you brought us here? To kill us? I've lost track of the number of times I've been killed, so go ahead. Do your worst.

And I am WAIT, YOU’VE BEEN KILLED BEFORE? EVEN IF YOU’RE STILL UNDER THE WRONG BELIEF THOR TOSSED YOU INTO AN ABYSS, WHICH HE DIDN’T AS HE WANTED TO SAVE YOU AND YOU LET GO DUE TO ODIN’S HIGHLY MOTIVATIONAL WORDS (really, Odin should write demotivational posters quote along with Mobius) THAT COUNTS ONLY AS ONE. YOU DIDN’T DIE IN “THE AVENGERS”. CAN WE HOPE THIS MEANS WE’LL BE REVEALED WHAT HAPPENED IN THE YEAR IN BETWEEN “THOR” AND “THE AVENGERS”? OR IT’S JUST TO BE MEANT RANDOM BABBLING? PLEASE, LET ME KNOW!

Anyway okay, back to normal.

The Time-keepers tell them they’re no threat to them and Sylvie counters she believes they’re scared. She tries to get closer but Renslayer uses the Time Twister so she can’t.

The Time-Keepers complains they’re just a ‘cosmic disappointment’ why I’ve no idea as it’s not like they created the Variants so the Variants aren’t supposed to please them, and tell to delete them.

Sylvie tries to protest she’s not done with them but Renslayer tries to use the Time Twister and only manages to stop her because B-15 all of sudden comes to rescue because the TVA did a horrible job at tracking her apparently. B-15 disables Loki and Sylvie’s collars, then she mockingly repeats the TVA motto ‘For all time. Always’, before handing Sylvie her sword that originally had been put as a trophy in Renslayer’s office.

The two guards behind immediately knock down B-15 who didn’t even bother bring her weapon or, if she had, didn’t pull it out. Renslayer orders to the four guards to protect the Time-Keepers, so now it’s Renslayers and 4 guards against Loki and Sylvie. Renslayer decides not to fight, to be honest because the guards evidently had been given a better version of the Supersoldier serum and can comfortably stand against Loki and Sylvie with no problems whatsoever.

Really, if I don’t get an explanation on why human Variants are all of sudden strong enough they can stand against Loki I’ll think those guys have never seen “The Avengers”.

In fact the 2 guards fighting Loki are about to overpower Loki who asks for Sylvie’s help as she’s holding against her 2 guards just fine and she hands him her sword. Meanwhile, despite being weaponless, Sylvie… kicks to unconsciousness? Is that what she did? a guard, steals his weapon and instead than prune his companion with it, she stabs her. Because, you know, this is cooler and rule of cool always win.

All while Renslayer watches because whoever rules at the TVA has never read the ‘Evil Overlord list’ rule 75 “I will instruct my Legions of Terror to attack the hero en masse, instead of standing around waiting while members break off and attack one or two at a time.”

Actually there’s a huge list of rules the TVA ignored but this is the most important at the moment.

Anyway while the camera ignores Loki fighting with two guards in the background, we’re supposed to focus on Sylvie and Renslayer. Sylvie gives Renslayer a sporting chance letting her pick up a weapon. No idea why, really. Who cares about sport when you’re there to kill the Time-Keepers?

Besides, who cares about Loki? This is Sylvie’s moment to look cool.

Anyway Renslayer tells her this time she’ll finish the job, they fight, she ends on the ground, manages to turn their positions and punches Renslayer into unconsciousness, just in time for Loki to finish killing his guards. Why she didn’t kill Renslayer? Because the plot needs Renslayer to make troubles afterward so Sylvie, despite having a weapon and having used it to kill a guard, only punches Renslayer, which she should hate as much as the Time-Keepers, into unconsciousness.

Let me facepalm, please.

Now the Time-Keepers go:

Time-Keeper 1: You're a child of the Time-Keepers too, Sylvie. We can talk.

And okay, I’m not following this. Are they implying they created the Variants? Are they trying to pass themselves for Gods? Or it’s just Sylvie they created?

Sylvie tosses against one of the sword Loki gave her back, decapitating him. The Time-Keepers starts laughing as it turns out the Time-Keeper she decapitate was a robot.

I get “Wizard of Oz” feelings and I swear if it turn out this was created by an evil Loki Variant I’m gonna scream.

The Time-Keepers somehow deactivates, not sure if someone did it, or it was Sylvie pointing a weapon at them.

Sylvie picks up the head and, seeing it’s a robotic one and never having heard of Ultron and Vision, decides since they had robotic head they’re fake, mindless androids. Which yes, they have to be because we’re missing 2 episodes and they were beaten too easily but she’s not supposed to be aware of the episode count.

Whatever, Loki decides, I think, this would probably be a good moment to declare his love only they forget Renslayer is alive and she prunes Loki in front of Sylvie. At this point Renslayer forgets her warrior skills and Sylvie easily rips her weapon from her but, instead than pruning Renslayer as she asks, she informs her she’ll tell her everything. Meaning she will use her powers to force Renslayer to be cooperative.

The episode apparently ends, with the ending credit replaced by a love song, “If you love me” by Brenda Lee. Just in case you didn’t get Loki was about to make a Love confession.

When the ending… well, ends though, we see Loki opening his eyes and wondering if he’s dead and in Hel.

He’s told:

“Not yet. But you will be unless you come with us.”

As he looks up he sees four version of himself, a child, an old man, a POC and an alligator.

I can’t help but point out the costume the old Loki is wearing, despite being based on the one old Loki wears in the comics somehow feels like a poor cosplay.

Behind them the ruins of a city which, I bet, is New York. I wonder if they’re in an apocalypse created by the attack of New York succeeding.

And so the episode ends.

Now… this episode is, plotwise, better than the previous, as the previous was basically an excuse to get Loki and Sylvie to spend time together so as for them to fall in love. Oh and the revelation everyone in the TVA is a variant but really, Sylvie could have told Loki that in Ep 2 and we wouldn’t have missed anything big.

This one episode as, instead, a plot… but there are some things that just don’t add up and felt tossed there at random. I mostly mourn how the ruined Mobius’ character because this episode seriously damaged the sympathy I had for him, with that useless decision to have Loki belittled and beaten for… fundamentally nothing since he doesn’t believe him. Then he further insults him for falling for Sylvie before he decides to switch sides and no, Loki shouldn’t believe all the cruel things he told him because… hum… they weren’t true because Mobius is his friend. Not like how he said he was before, this time he’s really his friend the fact he needs him doesn’t matter, he’s not like Loki who uses people he’s one of the good guys of the TVA, you know, the ones who belittle and prune Variants unaware they’re Variants too.

Okay, I’m still very salty on this bit but I just didn’t enjoy the useless abuse of Loki.

It wasn’t funny, it had no purpose and it also ruined Mobius as a character.

It even impacted negatively on Sif which was fundamentally used to beat Loki up over and over when she already had, just for Mobius’ purposes, whatever they were.

Honestly I’m sick and tired of Marvel thinking that abusing of someone is a funny joke, especially if the one doing the beating is a girl.

The only thing it serves was to remark Sif had no love for Loki, which everyone seeing the movie could have guessed already.

Another thing I didn’t quite enjoy was how this is turning into Sylvie’s story. Is the purpose of this series pass the Loki baton to Sylvie?

We have the guards of the TVA being as strong as supersoldiers so far without explanation whatsoever, with Loki, who, in Asgard was trained to fight, in “Thor” could hold his ground against Frost Giants and even fight with Thor and who, in “The Avengers” gets punched by Cap and merely turns his face before he hits Cap with the sceptre and sent him flying and this not with magical powers but merely with his strength. And he does so TWICE, completely able to avoid Caps’ blows. Caps kicks him in the face and Loki remains standing and tosses him on the ground again.

Loki lets himself be arrested because:

a) Iron Man joins and he manages to send him on the ground by shooting at him and

b) because this was part of the plan.

Coulson shot him with a super powerful weapon and still Loki got up and left the Helicarrier on his feet. When Thor tried to hit Loki with his hammer, Loki could stop the blow by having it hit his sceptre without him even wavering on his feet.

And then okay, this Loki hadn’t lived through them but in “Thor: The Dark World” he could hold his ground against elves while in “Thor: Ragnarok” against Hela’s undead Asgardian soldiers.

And now we’ve those Variants of humans who can give him problems? Sylvie even gives him his weapon!

And all this while Sylvie, who had to learn to fight on her own, can hold her ground weaponless against two of them and save time to fight and beat Renslayer too?

Whatever, let’s hope we’ll get an explanation.

And then there’s the romance between Sylvie and Loki, which is useless or the whole idea Sylvie is Loki and all those other guys plus the alligator are Loki and I’d like to know what decides they’re Loki variants since they’re clearly genetically different from him… never mention one of them managed to get old when Loki supposedly died ‘young’ in the sacred timeline so what? The truth is he didn’t die in “Avengers: Infinity War” and grew old?

And why genetically different Variants of Loki were allowed to exist? How come this didn’t cause a Nexus event?

But whatever, let’s put aside my complains about the plot holes or the messed characterization and the nonsense dialogues and talk of the good stuff, like the acting or the director’s job or the music which really fit some scenes. There’s some really good stuff here.

And well, let’s mention the plot is not all to waste.

There were some good ideas in this.

To have the TVA agents discover they’re also Variants like the people they discriminated and pruned could have been great, I mean, one of the best scenes of “Thor” is Loki discovering he’s a Frost Giant so this could have been SO VERY COOL.

The Lokis forming a bond also had potential as idea on paper. If they were the same this could have pushed them to learn to appreciate themselves, if they were different, this could have pushed them to appreciate others. They didn’t need the romantic story and the idea they’re the same only they’re completely different so the fact they’re the same seems an idiocy.

Really, from a series who give space to a lot of female characters, who don’t just talk among them about men but about plot related issues, I don’t see why we need to pair together the two Lokis.

Mobius being Loki’s friend could have been great if he had acted as such and not as an abusive pet owner whose dog has peed on the carpet. But whatever, it could have been great to have Renslayer do the same to him, if this were to be acknowledged, if it were to be acknowledged how they both are poor friends.

Also Mobius’ death could have been a lot more moving if they hadn’t ruined him in this very same episode.

Seeing Sif again and learning of Loki’s past mischief? Could have been great if it wasn’t used for what turned into a torture scene or ‘police brutality’ who however wasn’t meant to be seen as bad as it was because it’s a woman who beat Loki.

Even the police brutality or the fascist agency could have been great plot point if it wasn’t they’re barely brushed over.

Loki reflecting on his behaviour could have been good if it wasn’t inserted into what was basically a torture scene.

Little Sylvie’s backstory could have been awesome if it had been realist, if this little escaping child had had knowledge of a Tempad and had had someone to help her.

I mean, there are some genuine good things in this plot… but then they got ruined by poor planning or poor explanation or abrupt character OOC.

It’s a pity.

We’ll see if episode 5 will redeem himself.

[ronalddear]

Bathroom.

hi again! This is another drabble/missing moment set during dh after the wedding. Again this is only my second time writing any fic so it's very amateur.

This was requested by @nuttybeardetective , and was inspired by this post of mine. Ron is vaguely prudish in this but seeing as this is only my second time writing, I don't think I'm ready to write full-on smut yet. hope you enjoy <3

WARNING: none except for language, because it's Ron ;)

WORDS: 1515

The dim cold ambience of Grimmauld Place did nothing to soothe the uneasiness of the wedding attack and Ron was utterly fed up. One week after their untimely arrival at the grim house enticed them to try and settle into their temporary 'home'. At least physically anyway, Harry was now occupying Sirius' room in reserved isolation and after another night of sleeping adjacent in the drawing-room, he and Hermione had wordlessly agreed upon sleeping in their respective rooms that they'd occupied during the summer before 5th year, with some unannounced hesitation on his part.

The minuscule amount of clothes he carried was unpacked, his worn toothbrush now stood in the cup designated on the 2nd story bathroom, opposite his bedroom. The kitchen table was now draped in Hermione's lists and notes of all sorts, a map of the Ministry adorning the centre. Yet Ron felt as if mentally he was still at the Burrow, packing the extra healing supplies from the bathroom cupboard or stood in the stuffy kitchen, duplicating his mother's kitchenware to stuff into his rucksack.

The immediate thought of the burrow made his stomach drop and his head spin. The forced confinement made him feel ill. It felt as if he was in deep quarantine and had no knowledge of the world outside. This scared him so intensely that his paranoia was at an all-time high after a week without family communication. Surely the whole Horcrux-hunting fiasco would last longer than a week? A couple months maybe? Could he go that long without his serene home, the sunny hillside near the refreshing pond, and his family, who were at risk of being imprisoned or killed because of their non-prejudiced beliefs?

His stomach dropped again and his shoulders sagged under the scorching heat of the water flowing across his frame. He discovered that hot water was helpful for him to relax, only temporarily of course but it was much better than the frigid water in the small shower the burrow housed or the short-lived heating charm that made him feel as if he was showering in lukewarm tea rather than a proper hot shower.

His only downside was that his creamy skin was almost brick red, yet somehow his freckles showed through like a common childhood disease that Hermione had mentioned getting in her early years. He could not remember the name. His hair laid flat on his head, a darker red when wet but now longer than a quiff, he ran his gangly fingers through it, sweeping it back but failing to contain a few stray pieces, which dangled near the curve of his cheek and tickled his ears.

Goosebumps spread across flesh the instant his heels touched the cool tile. The sudden temperature change brought about a shock and he scrambled for his towel to aid his chill. After hastily wrapping it around his waist, he clumsily aimed for his vest to wear until he got to the room so at least he wouldn't freeze to death. Vest in hand, the metal toothbrush cup clanged off the side of the counter, making a ruckus in its wake.

Vest now over his head and arms, bunched just under his chest. the cup was replaced to its original spot and a good few swears had escaped his breath. He bent across the counter to clear the mirror of the steam that emanated from the shower when he felt the slightest brush against his bareback.

"Shit!"

"Sorry!'

His hand frantically searched for his wand to provide defence but unless towels came with pockets then he was out of luck. Hermione's alarmed voice stabbed through the bathroom and the echo lingered for a bit, just enough until he processed that she was in front of him. Her eyebrows were raised and her mahogany eyes were wide after she jumped away from him suddenly.

"Um..Hi.” she started with a great inhale.

Ron's heart rate hadn't returned to normal and his mouth was agape at the sight of her so suddenly appearing in the bathroom. Where he was. Alone. Until she came in of course. So now it was just him and her. Alone. He suddenly became very aware that he had just come out of the shower and was revealing a particular amount of torso, which was probably solid red now with a litter of freckles that he didn't fancy too much himself.

"Uh hey?" he started, completely at a loss of how to conduct the situation, while he sheepishly smoothed down the vest along his stomach. She couldn't have come in here to discuss Horcruxes right? Actually, he wouldn't put it past her to do just that, to be honest.

"I uh.. well I came to shower and I realised that you were still in here, still are in here so.. but yeah your vest was rolled up a bit sorry, just wanted to.. uh fix it, yeah, sorry." she stumbled over her words a lot, something he'd never heard from Hermione but she seemed to speak extremely fast yet agonisingly slow and deliberate at the same time.

She was breathing in deeply again and his eyes fell to the stray tight curls that graced the nape of her neck which her haphazard-looking ponytail exposed. The bathroom was quite dim and the yellow glow from the dingy lights fell just barely on her dark skin. Skin. His eyes travelled a little further to see she was wearing a vest herself, no a camisole, he didn't know what it was but his gaze was hooked on the space between her shoulder and collarbone. He had the urge to touch it with his lips.

He quickly averted his eyes as to not embarrass himself but they glanced over her bare legs in moderately short cotton shorts and he sucked his breath in so hard he was now bent at a slight curve, stomach clenched and breath hitched. He was quickly overwhelmed at the intimacy the situation opposed. Hell, he couldn't believe he was describing an interaction with Hermione as intimate. His ears were on fire surely, he'd need an Aquamenti to put them out if he survived.

"Oh", his voice heightened toward the end and he internally cringed so hard he thought he was going to combust.

"Yeah", she whispered, her eyes were on his arms, his brain scars were fully displayed and swirled across his recently filled out arms.

"I thought you were using the bathroom near your room?" he spoke softly and slowly, drinking in the sight of her lips, which she was toying with impatiently, now flushed.

There was an urge to cover his arms but he resisted and tried to focus on a chipped tile near the door. He failed as soon as she spoke once more, her voice clearer this time and with, almost, determination?

"I think I like this one more." she spoke, referring to the bathroom seemingly but her eyes were nowhere but him.

She intentionally made eye contact and his heart dropped to his lower stomach, his chest unnaturally warm. Wasn't this room cold as shit before? He was smart enough to know that bathroom was the last bloody thing she was talking about but words failed and he was more than happy to let her steer the conversation.

"Can I ask why?', he managed, his mouth was dry and he was sure he's never wanted anything more than for her to touch him, anywhere, she could slap him if she wanted and he would relish her skin on his.

Their breaths were erratic now, you'd swear they'd run a marathon twice over. Her chest was rising and falling agonisingly slow. He was still bent a bit so he was leaning towards her and she seemed to have gotten closer since she jumped back earlier. When did that happen?

"It's a bit more spacious I think, prettier interior as well", she whispered, swallowing halfway in between and added in the last bit staring so far into his eyes that he swore she was probably seeing through his head.

Pretty. Did she just say pretty? He was pretty sure she said pretty. No one had called him that before and if she had just called him fucking pretty he was going to die on the spot. Her words kept repeating in his head, soft and intentional. His entire body was frozen and he knew that the ground wasn't cold enough to make his legs tremble the way they were now. She gazed up at him and he swore he saw a glint of satisfaction after his reaction.

"Right, well, I'll let you have it then..Enjoy.", he applauded himself in restaining his voice from wavering at the end.

She gave a small thanks and he started to walk towards the door, her to the shower. Her bare shoulder touched his elbow at the exact moment her eucalyptus shampoo wafted towards his nose and he swore he almost whimpered. Their eye contact was only broken by the door closing and Ron almost collapsing on the other side.

PLEASE REVIEW! <3

[skywalkerstyles]

Skin (Bakugou x OC!Reader insert)

Warnings: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, quirkless AU, criminal Bakugou, robbery, hostage situation, anxiety, mysophobia

Summary: Katsuki Bakugou is a killer, hell bent on revenge. Hikaru Moshimoto is a college student with a dark and cloudy past. When Hikaru is taken hostage and forced to work with Bakugou in order to survive, will the be able to get passed their differences, and see the people behind the scars? A stalker seeks to finish something Hikaru started a long time ago. When they come head to head, will Bakugou protect her? Or will he add another victim to his list? 

Hikaru Moshimato felt sick when she woke up that chilly september morning. Monday, September fifteenth to be exact. It was a day she would never forget or get over. It changed the course of her life forever. 

It started out like any other morning, she got up, got dressed, had breakfast, fed her little cat Yoshi and headed out the door on her way to work. But there was a presence, it was dark and gloomy, and hung over her like a shadow. Something was coming, and she wasn't ready for it. At all. 

She pulled up to the little gas station by her job, it had a little convenience store attached, a place she could grab snacks and drinks before work, the vending machines there were usually way overpriced, so it was easier to just bring food with her. She got out of her car, locking the doors as she held her wallet close to her chest, tucked her head down and walked inside. 

She sighed, upon stepping into the cool air conditioned building, and instead of walking up to the counter and just paying for her gas she eyed the slushie station. She loved slushies,  and she could never pass one up. She smiled to herself thinking, fuck it, and strolled over to the slushie machine. There was a man standing to the side of the machine, where the fridges held the drinks, he had a Redbull in one hand and a smartwater in the other. He wore an unbuttoned, navy blue flannel with a black t shirt and grease stained blue jeans. His eyes were covered by dark sunglasses and his hair was covered by a blue and white striped baseball cap. Hikaru was hyper aware of his presence, making sure to keep aware of her surroundings. She didn’t like the vibe she was getting from this guy. He scared her. Seemed like trouble.

But if he noticed her presence, he didn't show any signs of it.

So Hikaru relaxed her shoulders, shaking her head and began to ponder the flavor she’d get today. Hikaru had never been one for conversation anyway. She always kept to herself, due to some social anxieties and quirks she had, that made her ‘unapproachable’ as her mother had put it. But if you had a doctor mother who abused prescription medication and neglected you after your father’s death, you might have some fucked up issues too.

 Which is why she found it strange when she felt the man’s presence shift, he’d come closer to her, and she could feel him staring. She kept her eyes down, feeling her cheeks heat up as she pulled a cup from the slot and got ready to pour her syrupy drink into it.

 "What's your favorite flavour?" He asked suddenly, and the deep rough voice startled her. She twitched and peek at him curiously through her hair, that thankfully, covered most of her face.

 "Coke." she answered meekly. The man cracked a smile, his teeth were perfect and bright. It was almost, alluring. Definitely charming.

 “Really?” he asked, reaching out and taking the cup from her. She didn’t have time to react, before he plucked it from her hands and filled it with the drink of her choice. “I like blue raspberry best….sometimes cherry’s good too.” He handed her the drink and she took it hesitantly. He chuckled at her demeanor, cocking his head to the side, that ridiculously handsome smile still plastered to his face.

 “Thank you.” she managed after a moment, she placed a lid on her drink and grabbed a straw.

“No problem,” he replied, following her as she turned towards the cashier. She can feel the panic and the nerves rising within her. Why was he following her? As they stood in line, waiting for the other customers to leave, she could feel the man change, his whole demeanor took on a darker, more serious tone. She curled in on herself, hoping he wouldn’t try and follow her to her car. Hikaru hadn’t always been this way. Afraid of germs, afraid of touch….Basic human contact. No. If you looked at her high school yearbook, you wouldn’t even think it was the same person. She used to be bright, and outgoing, willing to chat it up with just about anybody, a regular teenage girl. Until Amano. And...Hina... She shook her head, trying to focus on the task at hand, get the drink. Get the gas. Go to work. She took a deep breath, she would complete her goals today.

 “Hi! How are you today?” a cheery red head smiled at Hikaru, she tried to smile back, and return the enthusiasm, but the feeling of dread was starting to creep back up on her and she couldn’t shake it off.

 “I’m fine thank you. Ten dollars on pump-”

 “Shut up.” Hikaru feels a strong hand wrap around her upper arm and tug her back, she looked up to see the man who had been by the slurpee machine, pulling her towards him, a pistol in his hand, pointed right at the cashier. Hikaru squeaked as the man pulls her into him, jabbing the gun into her side. “Give me all the money in the register, or you, and her die. Now!” Hikaru flinches at the last word, which he snarled at the cashier. She had her hands up, tears streaming down her face. “Move.” he ordered. The cashier slammed a metal grate down and an alarm began to sound. The man held onto Hikaru even harder, yanking her around as he turned to find an exit. “Fuck!” he exclaimed. Hikaru shifted, trying to wriggle free. He pulled her closer, he was big and intimidating. He reminded her of Amano. “You’re not going anywhere.” he said. “I need you. Come on.”

 Panic began to rise within Hikaru, she could feel her breath growing more ragged by the minute, all the things she needed to get done shooting through her head. The man dragged her towards the back of the store and into the warehouse, once inside, he shut and locked the door, shoving her from him and holding the gun to her. Surprisingly, the slushie hasn’t spilled. “Don’t move.” he said coldly. A sob escaped her throat, the bubble was rising, she could feel the panic getting ready to burst.

 “P-Please,” she rasped, her throat was closing, she couldn’t breathe.“I-I have money.”

 “I don’t want your money. We need to get out of here.” Hikaru looked at him confused.

 “W-we?” the man grabbed her again, yanking her towards the back of the warehouse.

 “Yeah. We. You’re my hostage,” fear filled her as the man’s lips curled into a confident smirk. He pulled a set of handcuffs from his pocket and yanked her forward, cuffing her. “Don’t struggle. And you live.” She was about to faint. The alarm was blaring, but through the sound Hikaru could hear the doors bursting open. The same doors she had walked into only minutes ago, it seemed like hours now. The man cursed again, kicking the back exit door open and shoving her through.

________________

They hid behind a dumpster, he peaked out, looking around to see cops, flooding into the gas station, Hikaru shifted uncomfortably, the cuffs were tight on her wrists, digging into her skin. He didn’t seem to notice. “A-are you a criminal?” she asked. He didn’t even turn to look at her, inching forward slowly, his hand still gripping her tightly.

 "Yeah."that was it. No explanation. Just a straight no bull answer. As the cops go into the front of the store, the man gripped her tightly and yanked her towards an older Astro van. Hikaru pondered why no cops were looking over towards them, how no one could see he was taking her. But it would be just her luck. He threw the passenger door open, shoving her inside, before running around to the otherside and climbing in. The door shut with a slam and he pealed out and away, the cops just noticing as you leave the gas station. The sweet and tasty slushie, left on the floor of the warehouse.

 ____________

The van was loud. It sent deep rumbles of vibration all the way down to Hikaru’s bones. Like a  massage after the chaos back at the gas station. Her hands are still bound but the man had finally stowed the gun. There was no handle on the inside of the passenger door. She was stuck and she stayed quiet. Out of fear. The man drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, listening to a song on the radio. The silence wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable either. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly, so low he might not even hear her. He stopped drumming and turned to look at her for the first time since he’d taken her.

 "Wasn't planning on it." He replied. “I just needed some cash….but damn that cashier was quick on her feet. Taking you was the only way I would have gotten out of there alive.”

 “W-why do you say that?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He cocked his eyebrow, finally taking off his glasses, his eyes were a deep blood red.

 “You...You don’t watch tv do you ?” she shook her head. The news gave her anxiety. The only time she left her dorm was for class or work. Necessities. She kept to herself. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned on his turn signal.

 “Why do you ask?” she asked a bit louder. She watched his adam’s apple bob and his eyes scan the road, searching for the right answer.

 “I uh, I’m in a business most don’t agree with.” he said.

 She decided to push a little further, “what do you do?”

 “I’m...I’ve killed people.” he said it solemnly. Like he wasn’t proud of it, but he had to do it. Hikaru feels the panic begin to rise again. He cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked, changing the subject.

 “M-my…..it’s Hikaru.” she said, wishing she sounded braver than she felt. “Hikaru Moshimoto.”

 “I’m Bakugou, Bakugou Katsuki.” he responded, “You know, you’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who didn’t know who I am.” he sighed, clicking his tongue, “You’re a weird girl.”

 “Says the man who just admitted to murder being his occupation.” he laughed, shaking his head. She didn’t want to admit it, but she liked his laugh.

 “Yeah, maybe we’re both just weird.” He paused and then said carefully, "I won’t hurt you."the tone of his voice is softer, calmer, and surprisingly soothing "Unless you make me." He added with emphasize on ‘make’.

 “H-How many…” Hikaru trailed off, unable to finish her question. It was strange, she could never talk and be this open with just anybody. She usually just kept quiet, and stayed in her lane. She wasn’t the type of person to make waves. Not since before…..

 “How many people have I killed?” Bakugou finished for her. She nodded, glad to have been pulled back from the darkness of her thoughts. He can tell that she’s got something going on. She looked so small and fragile. Like the china plates his mom used to collect. He really didn’t want to hurt her, and silently prayed he’d never have to. He bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer, “If I had to count….possibly sixty.” Hikaru’s mouth fell open in shock.

 “Oh my….” she instinctively moved further from him. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of rejection. She focused on her shoes, on the scuffs and the threads in the laces, anything to keep her from going crazy. They sat in silence for a long while. Bakugou began to twitch as it stretched, it was slight, barely noticeable. Except she saw it. "So where are you taking me?" Hikaru asked awkwardly, eyes darting to his before looking ahead again

 “I’m taking you to my family. You’re my hostage for now, but they’ll decide if you know too much or have seen too much.” Hikaru swallowed hard, wondering what that could possibly mean. He must have sensed her worry, because he reached out, only to pull his hand back when she flinched, with a sigh. “Just don’t worry….You seem harmless enough.”

 “Can you take the cuffs off? Please? They hurt.” Bakugou pulls off onto the side of the road.

 "Don't try anything, okay? I have a gun." Bakugou met her eyes as he shut off the van and turned to her, he looked down to her hands. He quickly unlocked the cuffs and sat back. She rubbed her swollen wrists and he started the car back up.

 “Are you scared?” he asked after a while. Hikaru looked up at him again. She noticed he had freckles, they were light and scattered across his cheeks...He’d be a good subject to draw.

 “I….” she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed, “I’m terrified…..I know that mentally….But I guess I’ve shut down. I don’t really feeling anything.” 

“Why?” he asked, suddenly curious. Did he want her to be afraid. 

“I’ve been in….I’ve been in a lot worse situations,” he scoffed at that, disbelievingly.

 “You’re my hostage. I had you at gunpoint. I’m kidnapping you and you’ve been in worse situations?” she smiles at how ludicrous it sounds.

 “It does sound crazy but….I don’t know. I have a lot of anxiety disorders and I’ve been struggling with depression so I….maybe this was too much and my body is protecting itself.” he pursed his lips together.

 “How old are you?”

 “22.”

 Shit. He thought. She’s just a kid. “I’m sorry it had to be you.” she gave him a questioning look. “In the store. If you hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have taken you.” she nodded, not quite accepting his apology, but understanding, that he knew, she had been through some shit.

 “I haven’t…..I haven’t left this town my entire life.” she said quietly, changing the subject. Bakugou picked up her switch in demeanor and followed it, trying to lighten the mood.

 “Yeah?” she tried to smile, it was small and tight, but she could feel the uneasiness begin to grow again.

 “Yeah….where is your family?”

 “You’ll see,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You’ll like it better than this dump.” he snorted as they passed the ‘Leaving Town’ sign.

 “Why did you come here?” she asked before she could stop herself.

 “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” she nodded, sinking back into her seat. Bakugou cleared his throat and turned the radio back up. “Better settle in. We got a long drive…..what kind of music do you like?”

 ________

He shut the door behind him. The dorm room was quiet and he couldn’t feel her presence as he looked around. Everything was in it’s rightful place, meticulous and germ freak as ever. He missed her so much. He walked over to Hikaru’s desk and lifted the sketchbook that sat open on it, he touched the lines of the person she drew, imagining the way she drew it, the way her hands moved. His heart was racing. It was 4pm and she should have been home now. She didn’t have any friends.

 Where was she?

 Where was the girl he’d been searching for for so long?

 He was dying to see her again…….

[beetlesstuff]

Stupid bug.

inspired by: gayarsonist: oh to be pinned against a wall by my arch nemesis who i am secretly pining for and smirk insolently up at them while fantasizing about kissing them and being kissed back as they lean forward until our noses are almost touching to whisper threats which are meant to intimidate me but only turn me on more in my ear

~~~~~~~~

GOD i love enemies to lovers it’s just so MMMMMMMMMMMMMMm

Surprise! a chapter book.

CHAPTER -1-

(Y/N) got up lazily, stretching and swinging her legs over the bed. Immediately, she noticed the cold wet feeling beneath her feet. She groaned and looked down, water. Fucking water. She felt a drop hit her knee and she looked up, to see a pipe had sprung a leak, then she heard a crash from the attic. “Of course.” she thought to herself, before grabbing her robe and wrapping it tightly around her. 

She remembered when she met the dumb bug, she was moved in and trying to relax in her new home, when he came running out of the kitchen screaming with her old dog in tow. It’s been years, her dog since passed away, beej unable to go really anywhere else other than the neitherworld. So they were stuck like this, her hating him since day one, and him returning the favor, usually when she saw him he had an impish smirk and red through his hair. She suspected that would be the sight to greet her if she could just get the damned door...got it. The door swung open with an uneasy creak, but it was dead silent. She looked around the space and deemed it safe to come in. Beej jumped out at her, yelling loudly, scaring her pale as she slapped him by reflex. the playful pink in his hair turned red and he glared daggers at her. “Damn toots, didn’t expect ya to hit that hard.” she slowly caught her breath before glaring back at him and remembering why she came up here in the first place. “WHAT did you break?? There’s a leak downstairs IN MY ROOM. And-” He held his hand up to her mouth to silence her before sniffing curiously around the room. And off he went, searching for whatever he thought he smelled. (Y/N) could only fume silently, she saw a book and without thinking she threw it at him, she was fed up, she hated him so much, she...He caught it without even looking and turned his head around slowly to glare at her. she began backing up to the door but it slammed shut and jammed firmly in place. She rattled the doorknob but to no avail, he slowly inched closer, dropping the book completely before reaching for her. He grabbed her chin with a surprisingly gentle grip and he stared at her. Before she could realize it, she was crying, she was stressed. She couldn’t afford to fix a broken pipe right now, especially from how old the house was. Beej’s hair melted from red, to yellow. He was anxious. He backed off. The door opened.

 On her way back down the stairs she stiffened, why did they argue so much? he never did anything to make her hate him. He was crude, sure. But she really had no reason, in fact she had grown rather fond of his presence and became concerned whenever it was quiet. She brushed the thoughts away, she had more to be concerned about, specifically that her horrid roommate was having a party tonight and it was a, and she quotes, “Party formal” event. God only knows what he meant by that. She just grumbled and went about the rest of her day, of course when beej got the booze out, HER booze. She knew. She knew he would pitch an angry fit if she didn’t change into something “Party formal”. She knew the next long hours would be spent being hit on by long dead dukes and pirates. She knew, if she tried to fight one of them, it’d either end with the house on fire, or beej laughing at said duke or pirate for getting beat up by a breather. So, (Y/N) grumpily dressed herself, but as she was looking in her mirror, a devious smirk played across her lips as a thought came to mind. She ran to her closet and grabbed her favorite dress, black, short, and just enough cleavage to make ANYONE do a double take. And off she went to the party. As she walked down the stairs beej snapped up to look at her, hair tinting an electric magenta as he stared. “You okay, bug?” (Y/N) questioned. Beej could only mumble and adjust himself, and go back to pouring drinks for people.

Shots with Shakespeare, who’d know. She also accidentally ate a weed brownie, which beej thought was hilarious. But it was only when she was officially tipsy, that he noticed something. She was actually kinda nice. Vulgar, but nice. Many things were learned that night. First off, (Y/N) became existential after four drinks. And secondly, Beej was very worried for her safety after six drinks. He tried not to show it, but he was worried. He was especially concerned when he saw one of his old college buddies getting a bit too friendly with her. The way he complimented her, looked at her with a smile that could only be described as predatory. It made his hair go red. He butt in halfway through the conversation. “Hey (Y/N), walk with me a bit, let’s go get you some water.” He was greeted with her protesting whine, but she went anyways. Beej had an iron grip on her arm, it almost hurt. The pace at which they were moving, she felt dizzy, the room started to spin, the last thing she noticed before she blacked out was the blue fading into Beetlejuice’s hair as she fell to the floor.

[ivushk]

HELLO. MAY I PLEASE HEAR MORE OF YOUR VAMPIRE AU…. 👉👈

OH MY GOD I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

Okay, SO. BUCKLE THE FUCKLE UP 'CUZ here's what I've got so far:

Nishiki and Kiryu are still orphans at Sunflower. They come from a tiny village just a few kilometres west from the orphanage. It's a very close and closed-off community. The boys' parents died in a fire when they were very little (which is a common theme for the kids at Sunflower and isn't that a crazy coincidence? *smiles mysteriously*), however the Nishikiyama family house wasn't as badly damaged as Kiryu's so it's just sitting there, waiting for its former residents to reclaim ownership as soon as they're able to (I imagine Kazama would help them with that).

In the next years it becomes a home for Nishiki, Yuko and Kiryu (and Yumi, too, though she feels like a visitor for the most part) in everything but name. It's their hangout spot, their "base of operations", their not-so-secret meeting place. When Yuko's health deteriorates so much that she can't stay at Sunflower anymore, the siblings actually properly move in to make arranging the doctor's visits easier.

It's Nishiki's 17th birthday and all three of them are celebrating and playing games and eating cake and having a good time at the edge of the woods not far from the Nishikiyama residence. They're young and loud and stupid (and ignoring the fact that several people went missing over the course of the last few months) and if Nishiki's heart beats a little too hard in his chest when Kiryu gives him his gift - a beautiful, heavy silver pendant on a slightly-worn leather cord - he doesn't think about it too much (and if he notices that Kiryu stares at him just a bit longer than usual without saying a single word but his gaze is so, so, SO fond-- he doesn't think about it either). (he leaves these kinds of thoughts for restless nights because thinking about his best friend in that way during the day... it hurts. the hurt is good sometimes but it's overwhelming).

They're drunk on the cheap beer they've smuggled from Gen-san's fridge and high on happiness. Unaware that the very same night it would all go crashing down.

At some point they all quiet down and go a little further into the woods than they normally would but no one pays any mind to that. And when suddenly their trio turns into a duo with the sudden absence of the birthday boy himself no one immediately starts panicking. He's been gone for ten minutes, twenty, half an hour. Kiryu tells Yuko to go back to the village, to gather everyone, make them start a search party or something while he keeps looking for her brother (the only things he'll find are the pendant he's gifted to Nishiki with the leather cord torn and the broken shards of his own hope). They never find him.

A year goes by and they hold a funeral for Nishikiyama Akira. Even though there's no body for them to bury. Yuko doesn't cry (she doesn't believe he's really dead). Neither does Kiryu (he used all of his tears up that night, the guilt choking him, and the night after that, and the night after that, and the night-). Yumi does, however. And the nice old lady who gave both Nishiki and Kiryu money for helping her do chores around the house. And the man who gave Nishikiyama a part-time job at his shop (to put at least something towards the cost of his sister's treatment, he felt so indebted to Kazama, and that debt weighed down on him). And a few of the girls and boys from Sunflower too.

Another two years pass. Kiryu moves away to the big city at the behest of Kazama. "It's important for you to continue your education," he says. ("It's important for you to move on," he keeps these words to himself). Kiryu really tries his best. Even makes a few friends (although he's still on the fence about whether he can actually call Oda his friend). It goes as well as it could have considering his circumstances. They say that time heals but Kazuma Kiryu never finds out if there's any truth to those words because he recieves a very short letter - an invitation, actually. To another funeral. But this time it's Yuko they're burying. This time they actually have a body to bury.

Tachibana offers his condolences. Oda offers him a ride to the village and back. Kiryu accepts both.

He can't help but compare this funeral to the last one he's been to. There are fewer people. Fewer tears, too. More flowers. It's quieter and feels something like closure (in truth, it's anything but). Yuko also left behind a will (more like a bunch of wishes since it wasn't an official document but the community decided to honour them anyway). Almost all of her possessions went to the kids from Sunflower, except for the Nishikiyama family house (which on paper actually belonged to Shintaro Kazama) which she left to Kiryu. He can't quite believe it when he hears it and feels his heart break under the onslaught of childhood memories. Still, he goes there later that evening. He finds that little has changed in the time he spent away from the house, from the village, from... all of this, really. There are the same pictures on the walls collecting only slightly less dust. The same books on the shelves and under the broken legs of the old pieces of furniture. The same medicine bottles and equipment in the bedroom, though doubled in quantity. Kiryu's not as devastated as he thought he'd be when he walks around what he used to call his home.

He goes through all the rooms, taking notes of every single thing he finds and every single thing he doesn't. He probably misses a bunch of things (he's not as good at that sort of thing, Nishiki's always had a much better eye for details). Once back outside, he looks for the secret stash they made back when they were teenagers. It's like going through a time capsule. There's a pack of cigarettes he and Nishiki once stole from the teacher's bag, copybooks filled with ugly doodles, dreams for the future and dried flowers and leaves, caps from soda bottles, rocks they thought looked cool, photos and birthday cards damaged by time and weather... the pendant Kiryu gave to Nishiki the last time they saw each other. And a small notebook Kiryu's never seen before. A diary of sorts, a recounting of their days together and their days apart. The handwriting is unmistakingly Yuko's.

It fills him with nostalgia, tears welling up in his eyes, unshed. His heart sinks when he finally reaches the pages where Yuko recounts the last few weeks before she-

She writes about her brother, which is understandable. What's less understandable is the fact that she speaks of him as though he was there, with her. Physically present. Kiryu could chalk it up to the girl being delusional in her dying moments but it doesn't feel right to do so. It's stupid, it's absolutely impossible, he's confused, he's hopeful, why would Yuko hide her notebook there?

The last page. A message. For Kiryu. "Please, Kazuma-kun, help my brother".

Against his better judgement, Kiryu decides to spend the night in the house. Sleep doesn't come to him but that's fine. He sits in the living room, trying to make sense of everything. He sits there until it's way past midnight, until the distant barking of the dogs quiets down, until the rustling of leaves stops, until the very air around him grows still and silent and somehow charged with strange energy. And then he hears it. Three uncertain taps against the window. Kiryu turns his head. It's him.

"Kiryu... Let me in. Please."

He does, without thinking. (He could never very well say no to Nishiki. Even if it got them both in trouble. Even if he's not real.)

The quiet is deafening. It really is him. His best friend (whom he thought dead). His kyoudai. Before Nishiki could say anything, Kiryu wraps him in a tight hug. The only heartbeat between them is Kiryu's own, thundering against his ribs. Nishikiyama doesn't let the hug last, putting some distance between them. He looks guilty, tired; looks at Kiryu with sadness, with longing and something else that he can't quite decipher yet (and it makes him scared but why?). Nishiki also looks older than Kiryu remembers. Not a 17-year-old boy anymore, no. About the same age that Kiryu is now.

Has his gaze always been so sharp? Have his fangs always been this pronounced?

They talk until their throats are hoarse. Until Nishiki pulls out a bottle with some liquid that smells strongly of iron and drinks from it and in that moment Kiryu believes everything his friend has told him. It's crazy, but he does.

Nishiki was abducted that night. Taken from them. By vampires. They hurt him. Forced him to fight other humans (just like him then) for his survival. They fed on him.

It went on and on and on... Days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years. Only thoughts of Yuko, and Kiryu, and Yumi kept him going. He wanted to see them again. He hoped he would. That hope was crushed when Nishikiyama met his match in the arena. No, not his match. Someone far stronger. He lost and was tossed out to die. But another vampire saved him. It was a woman, whose face he saw often among the spectators of his fights. She stood out from the crowd, since she never cheered for any of the humans. Never put any bets. Only looked at all that madness with quiet horror. "Reina" she said her name was.

She gave Nishiki blood. Her own blood, and the blood of the vampires that were much stronger and more powerful than her (but not wiser), and human blood.

He turned and it was even worse than the years of anguish he had experienced. The pain and constant thirst almost drove him mad until he was taught to deal with them.

Nishiki was given a second chance. He escaped. And ever since that moment he's been trying his damndest to help other victims of those monsters. Both, the poor imprisoned souls and the villagers who might have shared his fate otherwise.

THAT CONCLUDES MY MAD RAMBLINGS BECAUSE I HAVEN'T THOUGHT OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT THAT WELL

also i don't remember the last time i wrote this much in one sitting and i'm tireeeeeed. i'm not cut out to be a writer and it shows nghghghhhhhh

but! but! but! i have a couple thoughts on where the story goes:

kiryu decides to stay in the village and help nishiki

they uncover the vampires evil plans and recruit a few other characters to fight on the side of JUSTICE (i.e. kazama, who up to that point has been kind of in cahoots with the vamps - hence trying to atone by means of creating the Sunflower orphanage; kashiwagi; yumi; reina; tachibana and oda; majima, and yeah he was actually the one that defeatead nishiki and unknowingly caused him to become a vampire, also majima himself turns into a vampire later in the story thanks to a certain mad simp nishitani)

yuko comes back as a vampire

at some point the scene from my fanart happens; something along the lines of kiryu and nishiki being found by the evil vamps and being attacked. then of course nishiki saves kiryu (who's still baffled that this shit is happening to them and vampires are REAL) and tells him to run which he doesn't but it works out fine in the end

the scene of nishiki drinking kiryu's blood is a MUST because i. love. that. shit. (it's also extremely horny dfjvhsdkfhiasdfhisd)

nishiki's personality is somewhere in between his ykz0 and ykz k*wami self (like, he's much colder now but he still cares about others and does things not just for the sake of his own ambition)

idk about the end but immortal boyfriends? sounds nice?

[readingonpluto]

16 Days of Nessian - Day 1/16

2 + 5 = 7 ~ Nessian Modern AU

*If you have any ideas for fanfiction or headcanons, leave them below!*

Word count: 2242

There they are. 

I clutch the envelope in my hands, heart racing in my chest. I knew… I already knew, and yet somehow getting it confirmed makes it that much scarier. The doctor gave me a blurry photograph of our child, slipping it in an envelope to keep it safe so I could show Cass. 

I have to show Cass. He’s going to be excited, and yet I’m scared of how he will react. He has always wanted children, sometimes telling me about dreams he has had about our family. The moment is now here… A source of his joy, and yet… And yet I’m terrified. 

I unlock the door to our home, the house seeming quieter than usual. 

Cassian pops his head out of the doorway to the kitchen, a smile immediately playing over his face. He comes over to me, planting a kiss on my forehead, and then my mouth, holding me close. 

“You’re late.” His breath dances over my mouth, just before he kisses me again. 

“I had a doctor’s appointment,” I say, hugging him tightly, hoping that if I hold him long enough he will just know. 

Of course, that isn’t the case. He pushes me away just a little bit, arms still gripping my waist, but now concern lights his eyes as they search all over me. 

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be worth mentioning…” I hold the envelope to my chest, heart pounding in my ears. 

“But it is…” I nod. “Is something wrong?”

“No… No. Nothing is wrong.”

“Then--”

“Can we sit? Please.” He nods once, leading me over to our small table. I let him sit down in front of me, before taking my seat. 

“I’m going to need you not to be angry if you’re angry at all.”

He tilts his head slightly. “Do you think I’m going to be angry?”

“I don’t think so.” 

He stays silent, letting me take a few breaths before continuing. 

“I’ve noticed that I’ve gained some weight,” I start, weighing the options in my head. “And then I noticed I have missed two of my cycles.” His eyes flash, his gaze firmly on mine. “So I went in today to get an ultrasound. I did a few pregnancy tests beforehand, but I just wanted to make sure…” 

Cassian’s leg is bouncing and I can see he is trying to fight back a smile. He is truly trying his best to let me talk before saying anything. 

“I’m going to tell you, before I show you this,” I hold up the envelope. “That all three pregnancy tests I did were positive.” I hand him the envelope. 

He is brimming with joy as he gently opens it, pulling out the small blurry photo. 

“Is this…” He trails off, eyes fixed on the image, tears building up in his eyes. 

“We can’t know the gender until about four months in. But the doctor said that they’re healthy and everything is going fine.” I keep my gaze on him. I don’t think he is breathing. “I have another appointment in a month. I have the date so you can book it off work--”

Finally, he stands, making his way over to me before falling to his knees in front of me. 

“There is a baby inside of you. My child.” 

I nod, not sure what to say. His eyes are so bright, his tears so joyous that I don’t want to break the moment. Why did I ever think he was going to be angry? He pulls me forward just a bit, nuzzling his face into my stomach. 

“I’m going to be a dad.”

My fingers find his hair, lovingly playing with the ends. “You are.”

~

The next time, the house is much louder as I step into it. I can hear Fin giggling and Cass telling him a story of a time he, Azriel, and Rhysand all got food poisoning. I have no clue why Fin finds it so funny, but it is one of his favourites. His second is the time Cass met me for the first time. That’s one of my favourites too. 

I step into the living room, watching my two boys smile, pure joy radiating off of them. Finlay is the first to see me, pointing his chubby finger at me and reaching upwards. I immediately sweep into the room, picking him up and kissing him all over, causing another wave of giggles to erupt. 

I shift him to one arm, reaching for Cass with the other. Just as swiftly, he kisses my cheek, hugging me close. 

“Hello,” I say. 

“Hi, Sweetheart.” His eyes flick to the clock. “You’re a bit late.”

“I was picking up a few things.” Fin wiggles in my arms, a clear message to put him down. He half crawls, half walks over to his toys, already bored with our conversation. 

“Oh?”

“Oh.” I reach into my bag, pulling out a small envelope. Cassian’s eyes snap to mine before he takes it gently. 

“Should I be scared?”

“Nope,” I smile. “Maybe. Just open it.”

He grins, slowly--just to annoy me--pulling out the photo. Immediately, his eyebrows furrow. I knew he would be able to tell it was different this time. 

I step up next to him, gesturing at the photo. “That’s baby A, and that is baby B.”

His eyes find mine, making sure I’m serious, before sweeping me up into his arms. He kisses me hard, grinning from ear to ear. We had been trying to have another kid for about a year, and I knew he wasn’t expecting this.

“Twins?” I nod, smiling hard. “Are they okay? Nothing is wrong?”

“Nothing yet. They’re healthy so far, we just need to keep an eye on them.”

“Of course,” He kisses me again, setting me down only to pick up Fin and kiss him just as much. Our son had come over to see what the fuss was all about. 

“You’re going to be a big brother,” Cass tells him, showing him the photo. “You’re going to have two siblings to look after.” 

Fin points at the photograph, smiling at his father. “Wittle brother.” 

~

I swear it gets louder and louder every time I walk into this house. From the sounds of things, Cassian made the kids some food, and Fin is babbling about what he did at school to the twins. 

I slip into the kitchen where Cass is finishing up their meal--animal crackers for a treat. I wrap my arms around his waist, pushing my face into his back. 

“Hello, Sweetheart,” He says, placing a hand over my own. “How did it go?”

“You’ll be happy.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, and turns to me. “Do I get an envelope again?”

Laughing lightly, I hand him the folded paper containing our fourth between its pages. “You do.”

He takes out the photo, smiling at the image. “Quinn will be wanting a little sister. At two she knows exactly what she wants.”

“And Caspian will want a little brother, just to spite his twin.”

Cass grins. “They’re going to be way too powerful when they’re older. I almost feel bad for their teacher.”

He hands the photo back to me. “What do you want?”

“I’m just excited for a fourth.” He kisses the top of my head, animal cracker in hand. “I’ll be happy with anything.”

“Same.” I trail after my husband into the loud dinner room. Quinn is flipping through one of Fin’s work books, as her older brother eats his sandwich. Caspian on the other hand is frowning at his food. 

I slip into the seat next to our youngest. “What's wrong?”

“No like crust,” He mumbles out. 

“You like the crust.” He shakes his head. “Just try it.” Again, he shakes his head. I look to Cass, and he shrugs, setting down the crackers. 

“Baby, you need to eat it.” He says. 

Caspian crosses his arms, looking more cute than mad. “Why?”

“No animal crackers otherwise.” He shakes the bowl for emphasis. 

Caspian frowns, looking at his sandwich again. 

“I’ll eat crackers if he no want them,” Quinn says, looking up from the workbook. Caspian immediately starts eating his sandwich. 

I smile at Cass, standing to slip up to his side. “That's one way to do it.” “What’s the photo mummy?” Fin asks, pointing at the ultrasound in my hand. 

“Another surprise.” 

Finlay’s eyes light up, and he changes his pointing to the twins. “Another one?” I nod, laying the photo in front of them. I point to the little dot so Quinn and Caspian know what we’re talking about. 

“That there is either a little boy or a little girl. Right now they’re in mummy’s belly, but soon they will be there to meet you.”

“When?” Quinn asks. 

“Seven to eight months.” 

“Oh…” Quinn points to my stomach. “Can I feel?”

With animal crackers forgotten, Fin tells the twins all about how he became an older brother, and the wait, with each of them taking turns feeling their new sibling even if there is hardly anything there yet. 

“I’m happy they’re excited.” Cass whispers to me as I close the door to the twins’ room. 

“Me too.” I lean into him. “I was worried little Cas would be unhappy.”

“He seemed okay after Fin explained. I think he fed off his and Quinn’s joy.”

“Better than explaining that we can’t go back now.”

Cass laughs, nuzzling into my shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

~

This time, I am truly scared. Every time we talked, it was always four kids. Four kids, and then we were happy. Ezra is now four, two years older than everyone else when a new sibling was brought in. Finlay is now eight and the twins are six. Will they be happy or sad or even angry? 

They’re all watching a movie. I can hear the cheerful song playing from the television and all of them singing along, probably even acting it out. I smile, stepping into the house. However, before I can make my way into the room Cassian steps out of the kitchen, flour all down his apron and smile already on his face. 

“How was your check up?” He asks, as I lean up to kiss him. 

“Good,” I say, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Are you baking?”

“Yeah, I thought I would make some cookies for a treat.”

I nod and Cass’s eyes roam over me, missing nothing. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Swallowing, I hand him the envelope. His eyes look up at me as he takes it, before flicking down again and pulling out the blurry photograph. He lets out a shaky breath, smiling. 

“Really?” He asks, looking up at me. 

“Yeah…” I swallow again. “You’re not… You’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy!” He pulls me to him, squeezing me tightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

A small smile of hope plays on my lips. “We only talked about four kids, never five.”

“So?” He holds me at arms length, grinning from ear to ear. “If you are happy, then I am too. Adding one more to our family is amazing!” “Adding?” We both turn to find Fin, Quinn, Caspian, and Ezra in the doorway, all looking slightly confused. They must have come over when they heard Cass shout. 

I walk over to them, kneeling on their level, holding out the photo which Fin takes. He smiles passing it to the others. 

Ezra jumps up, shifting from foot to foot. “Is this a baby?” He asks. I nod, smiling. “I’m not going to be the youngest anymore!”

He runs over, wrapping his arms around me, followed by the twins then Fin. Not soon later, I feel Cassian’s arms hold all of us. 

“I’m so excited,” I hear Fin whisper. 

She comes out the hard way. It was a rough pregnancy, but she is okay, and in my arms, and breathing. 

I’m shaking and crying, brushing wisps of hair from her face. Cassian left to get the kids, and I finally let myself crumble. 

“You alright?” Feyre asks from where she sits not too far away. 

“Yeah,” I breathe. “I was just… I was so scared…”

She stands, wrapping her arm around my shoulder, Elain coming up on my other side. 

“It's okay now.” Elain whispers. “She is safe.”

I nod, trying to breathe as my daughter sleeps soundly on my chest. We sit like that for a few seconds, before I finally have a clear moment and look up at my sisters. 

“Eleanor.”

“Pardon?” Elain asks, confused. 

“Eleanor. The name means light, or shining one.”

Feyre smiles. “Cassian will love it.” “Nelly for short?” Azriel asks, looking up from his book. 

I beam. “Nelly for short.”

“Mummy!” Ezra’s voice rings out, stumbling over to me. “Is she okay?”

“She is okay,” I shift so he can see his little sister better. 

Cassian helps Ezra up onto the bed, so the twins and Finlay can also see her. 

“Does she have a name yet?” Fin asks, his gaze never leaving his young sister. 

“I was thinking of Eleanor.” I look up at Cass just in time to see the smile spread across his face. 

“Nelly for short,” Quinn says, and this time Azriel smiles softly. 

“I love it,” Caspian says, looking up at his dad.

“I do too.” Cassian agrees. 

“Eleanor it is.” I smile. 

“Nelly for short,” Ezra grins. 

“Nelly for short,” I confirm.