#he refused to use names when people were literally getting stabbed

[yiminsuu]

No Control

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x F!Reader

Warnings: Sexual themes (+18), dubious consent, unprotected sex, (semi) public sex, breeding, some fluff and angst, La Plaga acts like an aphrodisiac, mutual pining, reader and Leon are bad at communication.

Author’s Note: People don't know how invested I am in the Resident Evil games right now, if I loved the original games you can imagine how much I adore the remakes. Also, I've been having the most horrid of writing blocks in existence, I had this draft for 2 months! 2 MONTHS!!

Roaming around the castle with, apparently, no exit, is frustrating and even more so when you think your friend can't be as dumb as people think she is, but here we are, Ashley has gone missing once more and I'm stuck with Leon, who is sick with La Plaga and refuses to take a minute to regain strength by resting. My worries grow the more we proceed, and it seems he is obsessed with taking all the hits to himself, even though I can use a gun. I'm not the one the government is looking for, I know very well no one is looking for me, and if Leon hadn't found me I wouldn't be alive to see Ashley or, for lack of better words, to see her running around the castle to supposedly keep us safe.

"Are you sure you are alright?" I spoke, receiving a glance from Leon as we make our way through a corridor. "I should be the one asking you that, that knife stab was not pretty." I refuse to let myself be the damsel in distress, and I admit I can do many things if you give me a weapon, but in the last attack we were surrounded by the monks. The excruciating pain came as a shock, I couldn't move and my scream must have made Leon panic because his attention went immediately to me and the wound on my shoulder. "Do you need me to change the bandage?" I shook my head and lowered my gaze, letting the silence invade the space. I don't know if he can feel the tension, but dammit, ever since this Ada appeared out of nowhere there was this tightness in the air I couldn't quite grasp. I'm afraid Leon isn't as talkative as he was a few hours ago and I wonder why, he makes sure I'm protected even if I don't need it... Most of the time... And he refuses to make eye contact. Perhaps I did or said something he didn't like but I don't really see him as the type to hold a grudge against something like that, Leon doesn't believe it, but he literally is an angel.

Suddenly, Leon halts all of his movements and holds his head tightly in his hands, grunting in pain as he fell to his knees. We need to get to a safer area, La Plaga surely is a son of bitch to deal with. I placed his arm around my neck and helped him to move before someone sees us, clenching my gun in rising stress. "(Y/N)..." He muttered my name in a very low tone, he's completely out of it. I took Leon for as long as I could before he let himself fall to his knees again, his back hitting the wall abruptly. "Leon? Hey, stay with me. I'll give you some medicine and I'll go look for Ashley." As soon as I said that, his pained expression was gone, replaced by an alarmed one. "You can't go on your own...!"

"We have to save Ashley, and you are too weak because of the virus. I'll be fast." Leon's hand grabbed my arm harshly, and I'm sure it was going to leave a mark soon. In reality, he looked a lot sicker than I thought he would, his eyes were changing to red little by little, and even like this, he refused to look at me. "I don't..." He whispered, I furrowed my brows in concern. "Want you to die..." I once wondered why he seemed closed off, so serious and quiet, his kind demeanor quickly rushed away those thoughts but this surely answered many questions I couldn't ask him for obvious reasons. 

I sighed deeply, sitting next to him and doing my best to calm down as he laid his head on my shoulder. We're not safe anywhere, so once someone finds us it will be game over, strangely, we haven't seen any enemy for the past 40 minutes.

Time goes by and we rest as much as we can in the lone room, I would occasionally touch Leon's head hoping he hasn't caught a fever, unfortunately, he was starting to burn up and I know it wasn't from walking under the cold rain. I kneel away and gain an unhearable mumble from the man, and checking on him closely, I see his rapidly rising chest, reddened cheeks, and hair disheveled from the short nap. "What is it doing to you?" I questioned confused, and slightly panicked when Leon opened his eyes to stare at me, pupils dilated and red with something I couldn't identify. "Leon...?" Slowly, he moved his legs apart and set down the shotgun, my eyes widened.

The bulge in his pants was massive. 

A whimper escaped from my lips before I recomposed myself, is this one of the side effects of La Plaga?

Leon looked embarrassed beyond belief, trying to hide his face as much as possible. "I want to touch you." He started. "I need to... You have to get away." Leon... Wants to touch me? 

No. This is not Leon, it's La Plaga speaking and messing with his body and mind, I have to find Luis as soon as possible and destroy the virus. "Hang in there." With that, I immediately ran away, but my heartbeat increased when the sound of footsteps caught up to me, crying loudly when two arms elevated me from behind. "Leon! Let me go--!" Before I know it, Leon lowered us, pressing my body onto the ground as his weight settles over my back. A groan escaped my lips, ready to grab my gun just to be swiftly incapacitated by the agent. "Leon...!"

"Quiet." Eyes widening at the deep sound of his voice, I noticed his breathing worsening the more he let the parasite take control. His hands shook and he slowly held up my leg to allow me to turn around, out of sympathy for someone I consider a friend, I stared into Leon's eyes. The sight broke my heart, he looked aroused, confused, a flushing mess of a guy that has an idea of what is about to happen. His brows furrowed the more tightly he grabbed on my clothing, just to have it ripped within a second, my only undergarments being my panties. I couldn't help but shiver from the cold surroundings. Leon bit his lip and glared at his own impotence to control the parasite, his firm, calloused fingers caress a smooth path along my skin before gently spreading my legs.

"It's okay..." Leon looked at me, bewildered at my words. If there was no way of escaping this, then at least we can make each other feel better somehow. "Just... Do what you have to do. I-I'll be fine..." 

Leon closed his eyes slowly and with a shaky breath, his knife sliced my last remaining decency and he cupped my cunt, both of us became acutely aware of just how wet I am. It would be a lie to claim Leon is not good-looking, a good guy, and perhaps I'm the bad one because I found myself daydreaming of him like this. The touch felt heated, the pressure is delicious, and I can’t help but push my hips up, seeking more contact, more friction, just more of Leon... But his hand is already moving away. The tip of one finger slides a line to my clit, and my whole body jolts at the electric contact, his nervous pants are hot as he made slow, precise circles over and over on my clit. Then his hand dips lower, sinking two thick fingers into me. It punches the air out of me, leaving only an ache, my mind feels raw around the edges, fuzzy with the sharp spike of heat spearing through me. 

I know what he's doing, Leon doesn't want to hurt me, but he's letting it harm him the more he tries to restrain it. He pulled his hand away, it’s like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head, I watch him through half-lidded eyes, breath panting as my lungs squeeze painfully tight in my chest. I heard the sound of a belt amongst our hard breathing, he sounded relieved for a second. I shivered when I felt his tip pressing against my hole, Leon holds himself there, and I spasm in place while the wait becomes excruciating. I don’t know what he’s doing until I hear the inhale of a breath.

"I'm sorry..."

Then I feel everything, pain, pleasure, warmth, the sensation of being filled without mercy. I moaned, his hand firm on my waist as he pins me down. His jaw tenses, watching himself slide out me slowly, waiting for some type of signal that would mean he can and should stop, but nothing comes, in fact, it makes it worse. Leon is looming above me, wrapping one hand around his slick cock, wet with pre-come dripping from the flushed tip. "Fuck..." He muttered, yanking me even closer toward him and notching the tip of his cock at my entrance. I braced myself for penetration, anticipating the stretch of him with a pathetic whimper.

The first slide as he filled me up again with his cock is fucking heaven, a sweet aching stretch that sends pleasure singing out along my every nerve. My thighs tremble, my body arching against him without any input from me, clenching down around his girth while my vision flickered. Leon groaned shamefully, he sounded desperate the faster he moved, I swear I can see fucking stars. He doesn’t stop, he can't, he thrusts himself into me with harsh, deep thrusts and pleasure spreads up my stomach, twining along my legs, and I can feel my orgasm building already.

My breath comes out as a sob, tears stinging my eyes as my cunt clenched and squeezed around the hardness of his cock, twitching and jerking in response. A hand rested against my cheek, it didn't slow Leon's motions, but it was the softest response I had from him since this whole ordeal started. I placed my hand on his in response to his concern, and those beautiful eyes of his slammed shut, biting out a curse. 

If this wasn't caused by a lethal virus I would be happy to think he feels the same way, but shit... Even if this is only to aid him a little I don’t mind being a cum bucket for a few hours. Muscles contract and clutch down in a way that's beyond my control when I'm rewarded with more deep thrusts. My eyes widened when he touched my cervix, making me whimper loudly. "L-Leon!!" It’s maddening, pleasure shoots through my entire being before rolling my eyes back and cumming around his cock...

He doesn't stop, Leon doesn't stop-- Fuck! He's not stopping!

I try to push him away from me, but it's all for naught as he relentlessly thrusts himself into me. "Almost, I'm almost there..." He spoke, his skin slapping against mine with no signs of stopping soon. Fucking liar, trying to make me feel better when we know it feels like we're both going to die. "Look at me, (Y/N)... Don't close your eyes." Slowly but surely, I indulged, and all I can see is his eyes burning into me, pupils blown so wide that they were almost pitch black. Leon's intense gaze fixed on me is like I'm the only thing that exists to him, I want him to stop, but I'm too far gone to say any word.

We're stripped of thinking at this point, Leon is going feral little by little and he's not letting me go, I doubt he will try to control La Plaga again. I screamed whenever he would hit my cervix, unable to close my mouth if only for shame, but I'm blissed out of my mind and overstimulated. I met his dark gaze, finding his eyes on my body once more, maybe he hasn't stopped staring at all. "Stop-- F-Fuck! Staring--!" I choked on a moan, it was barely coherent, but somehow I managed to get the words out. With a startled yell, I was pulled to his lap and sighed in relief at the change of position. "Better?" Leon whispered into my ear, once I nodded, he began thrusting as if he has the stamina to last a lifetime.

My hands clenched on his shirt, mentally cursing again and again at how perfectly he fills me, he's hitting every right spot. Leon puts a hand across my hair, his eyes softening and planting small kisses on my shoulder and neck to calm me down, repeating that he'll be over soon, that he's sorry. The sweet burning ache builds immediately, deep and consuming, the blissful pleasure swirls tight and insistent somewhere deep in my belly. I can't recognize any more words outside of my own, but Leon's voice is gentle, the softness is in direct contrast to the way I'm crying and begging. I reached up and tangled my hand in his hair, drawing him closer so I can kiss him.

Leon's arms come around me as his hips thrust up, a small cry coming out of my mouth as he licked my lips. He groaned, hips adjusting his angle, arms pulling me down greedily so I can meet his non-stopping strikes, again and again with a hard and rough pace. With this new position, it doesn’t take me long to feel that familiar warmth, all I can do is cling to him as everything inside me intensifies in every sense of the word. "(Y/N)..." Pleasure spills over my body, it's chaotic and too much, bright spots blinding my vision as I come, harder than I ever have in my life, and squirting all over Leon's shirt and lap. 

Leon still isn’t stopping, pushing deep into me as his thrusts don’t slow even when his cum coats my walls, a broken gasp escaping him. "F-Fuck, Leon!" The blinding bliss spikes through my blood, hot and piercing. It’s pitiful the way I'm sobbing and whining as he continues relentlessly with his strokes until both of us are completely spent. Finally, he stills, collapsing on the ground with me above him, and we lay there like that for a long moment, panting in absolute euphoria.

I feel sleepy and sated, with all the stress of being hunted down this was like a breath of fresh air, and reality went blurry and faded at the edges. "Didn't think this would happen, but thanks..." Leon said, panting. I hummed, trying to calm my heartbeat. "Sorry about your clothes."

I snickered at his awkwardness after such intense sex. "I doubt you are." The silence came back, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, his arms were hugging my form and I felt safe and protected. Then he sat with me resting against him. "I'm alright, seriously. Still, I doubt I will be able to walk for a while." 

Leon looked away embarrassed but turned back to me, kissing my forehead. "Wanna get coffee after this?"

I smiled tiredly, but deep down the feeling of joy flourished. "Yeah, now go on and look for some clothes, I don't want Ashley to ask."

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Something reawakened my Alien Stage obsession! Have some modern AU headcanons/brainrot™ :D

(The alien keepers are just their parents or something)

General rambles

Till is a god in the kitchen. Mizi can only bake b/c she has set instructions, but can tweak the recipe if she needs to. Sua can't cook/doesn't know how to. Ivan burned something and isn't allowed in it again. LUKA IS NOT ALLOWED IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN OH MY GOD DON'T LET HIM COOK THEY HAD TO CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT LAST TIME. Hyuna can't cook for shit w/o proper instructions. Her ass cannot improvise in the kitchen.

Sus and Ivan are siblings (twins if you will) and absolutely terrible to each other (like normal siblings). They could be sitting together and suddenly Sua kicks him off the couch and puts her feet up. Or Ivan throw something at the back of her head unprompted. They are literally the most chill people in the group, until they're in each other's arms length. Then, they might as well be wild cats fighting over a piece of fish

Mizi and Till are childhood friends and talk shit together

Till knows how to apply makeup (both on himself and others) b/c Mizi would test out things on him.

Almost everyone is a cat person. Except for Sua, who is neutral, and Mizi, who likes dogs more.

Mizisua rambles

Neither of them are the warm hands to the other's cold hands. They sleep with a lot of blankets and a heater on

Mizi doesn't know how to braid hair. Sua barely knows how to braid hair. They were so used to their parents/servants doing their hair for them that they don't know how to do anything fancy. But Sua did learn how to braid hair for Mizi.

Sua was/is a rich kid. And she's SUPER irresponsible with money when it comes to Mizi. "You want this dress? Sure. Don't look at the price tag, you liked it so you're getting it."

They're both clingy if the other has to leave for an extended period of time.

Mizi likes climbing up places and napping. And Sua got really good at hide and seek.

They don't have separate wardrobes b/c both of them stole each other's clothes so often they lost track what was originally theirs or the other's.

Ivantill rambles

Till is cold constantly. Ivan is a walking heater. My point is they hold hands and cuddle.

Ivan definitely turls a piece of his hair, while kicking his feet and giggling when he's calling Till. At this point Till is unfazed by it

Ivan calls Till "my star" "my universe" or any other space related petname. (l accidentally predicted that in an old post oops) Till refuses to call him any pet name b/c he'd die of embarrassment

They also steal each other's clothes, but they can tell who's is who's b/c they both have very distinct styles

Till fumbled the bag with Mizi so bad he accidentally fell into lvan's arms and I think that's a funny concept

Have we ever considered that Till might be just as cringe with lvan as he is with Mizi once he starts catching feelings. Like it's possible. Till can just be cringe with the people he likes. Probably not as bad with lvan, but even a fraction would make me happy.

Hyuluka rambles

Luka is shockingly needy and clingy. He would prefer to get dragged through the mud than let go of Hyuna. Hyuna finds it endearing and worrying

There's a lot of heels and dresses in their home. None of them are Hyuna's

Luka is the type that NEEDS TO LOOK GOOD AT THE HOSPITAL! What if the doctors thinks he's not hot enough 🥺 Hyuna has to drag him to the hospital b/c he's fixing his eyeliner. And no you can't just put a little bit of blush on, your bone is stabbing through your calf

Hyuna's love language is acts of service and food sharing. Luka's is being a little shit and physical touch

[dalishious]

The Dragon Age Fandom’s New Favourite Charming Slaver

There is nothing wrong with appreciating and enjoying villainous characters, especially when they are done so well. Everything about Rezaren Ammosine makes a him a remarkable and fascinating villain. He’s very intelligently depicted; all aspects of his character matter to how he presents in the story. His design is that of a handsome young white man. He is animated with a graceful and gentle flow, not just in how he casts spells but literally how he carries himself. His voice has a soft and soothing tone, and he uses that soft tone as part of his powerful charisma and sway he has over the people around him, like Tassia. In fact, Rezaren uses all of these characteristics for his benefit. Because just like in real life, abusers do not always wear “I’m a shithead” signs on their chest. To the outside world, they are charming and gentle people who couldn’t possibly hurt a fly, could they? But make no mistake. Rezaren Ammosine is a villain to his core. And treating him as anything other than a villain is a grossly disrespectful interpretation to fans of colour, given the nature of his villainy.

From his very introduction, we see that Rezaren is used to getting his way, and becomes easily frustrated and angered when his will is denied. When he summons a spirit of memory to interrogate about the circulum’s creation, the spirit warns him that answering too much would be unwise. Rezaren ignores these warnings and orders the spirit to continue, to the brink of turning the spirit into a pride demon. This is called back into further example when Miriam refuses his plans for her. Again, he becomes easily angered and physically lashes out, using his magic to flare up the pain in her wound. Then to solidify the power he has over her, says “You live because I will it.”

Rezaren explains to Tassia, “Her name is Miriam. She's my sister. My mother owned her. She was to be my personal spy, assassin. Whatever was needed. My left hand, as it were. But she raised us as siblings.” Except we see how Miriam and Neb were really raised in flashbacks. We see how they were beaten for Rezaren simply tripping while playing with them. We see how they were forced to do hard labour, and told they were not allowed to own anything. And we see how Rezaren’s mother sacrificed Neb so that Rezaren would not become an abomination during his Harrowing, sending the demon into Neb’s body instead. And that raising has obviously shaped how Rezaren views this so-called siblinghood, because while he may call Neb and Miriam his brother and sister, make no mistake, he still views them belonging to him. Rezaren has no respect for their autonomy. Even in death, he defiles Neb’s body by using blood magic to put a demon inside it and controlling him. And Miriam? He cannot bare to accept that she refuses to submit to slavery again, no matter how pretty a picture he paints of them being like family. But you don’t own a sibling. “Selfish bitch! You and your ungrateful brother. You were mine!” he shouts at the very end, before Miriam fatally stabs him.

So, Rezaren is a villainous slaver. Why is it, then, that people are writing reviews praising his character while calling Miriam and her party the real baddies? Why are people saying he “deserved” a redemption arc? The only assumption I can come to is simply that people are so not used to the white guy being the one to lose in the fantasy genre, that they’re willing to bend over backwards to try and paint the only white person in the show as a victim of the #mean brown woman. Think about it. How many stories are out there where the hero is a white man? White people are conditioned to always be the centre of attention, so when they’re not for a change, they need to seek it out by shining a spotlight on whatever white man they can find. This is of course nothing unique to the Dragon Age fandom, but rather a disease found in fandom spaces as a whole. Hell, look at the Star Wars sequels, and how the bizarre love for and babygirlification of Kylo Ren was so strong it led to ruining the second and third films. This is why it’s such a relief to me that Rezaren dies in the end of Absolution, because otherwise it would truly end up a fear to me that the writers would try the same with him.

When you’re pushing Rezaren into the spotlight, you are pushing Miriam out of it. And Miriam is such a treasure of a character, it’s a crying shame to see her get so much disrespect. I have nothing against people who like Rezaren, but if your like for him goes to the extent of putting down Miriam in order to put him up, then we have a problem.

[dichromaticdyke]

i can't stop thinking about how nathan was obsessing over magnus almost as much as he was obsessing over abigail. abigail he lost because he grossly misinterpreted their relationship and pushed way too far with her. but magnus he lost because magnus was an abusive piece of shit who valued revenge above all else.

but nathan almost sees them as equivalent. he sees them as people in his life who were greatly important to him, but who didn't feel the same way toward him. abigail didn't harbor romantic feelings towards nathan, and magnus was willing to throw their friendship/brotherhood away in the name of revenge.

i think again to what nathan said when murderface lamented being "no better than magnus." nathan said that the difference between magnus and murderface was that murderface gave them the chance to forgive him while magnus didn't. nathan is implying that he would've forgiven magnus (or at least would've been open to the idea) had magnus actually apologized and tried to do better.

and then when he's looking at the names of everyone who had "abandoned" him and he's telling them to come back and fight with him, magnus is included on that list. magnus is included on that list. god it makes me fucking sick. as pickles points out, everyone on that list isn't someone who abandoned nathan, but someone who nathan pushed away. but that's not true with magnus, is it? i mean, kind of, in the sense that nathan kicked him out of the band, but he only did that because magnus verbally abused the band and then stabbed him. but nathan still feels like he was abandoned by magnus, and then he feels like he was the reason magnus left. he said the same thing to magnus as he did to abigail, to his family, his band, his fans—"come back." as much as nathan tries to act like he doesn't care about his friends or anyone else, he does. he desperately does, even those that literally stab him in the back.

we see this first with him acting like his family is cringe and normie and they are, but he also fucking loves them. he pals around with his dad on the regular, and when he's feeling desperate and scared, the first thing he does is call them. and then he breaks his own rule about not caring about any of the band members by showing concern and care for toki about his drinking problem in "black fire upon us." and he continues to start to be more open to expressing his care towards his band members and friends and loved ones. there are a lot of examples we could go through here, but this is long enough as it is and i still have more to say.

i've been thinking about how he shuts other people out as a trauma response despite desperately needing others in his life. he watched his entire 2nd grade class die horrifically, and i think that was the catalyst there, the thing that made him start refusing to get close to anyone. something horrible can happen to those you care about at any moment, don't get too close. he starts dethklok, and his defenses lower a bit, he starts to grow close to his new band, and then magnus literally stabs him in the back. once again, as a trauma response, he shuts down. he puts in the rule that band members don't take an interest in each other. he's already close with pickles, skwisgaar, and murderface, so by the time toki joins, he just doesn't let himself get close—he forgets he exists sometimes, leaves him behind, etc. but again, that wall starts to chip away, by the time "dethcamp" comes around he starts treating him like his kid, getting him gifts, taking care of his room, driving to get him in the middle of the night when he fears he's in trouble.

and then toki gets kidnapped. and it happened again, he let himself get too close. he parties around the world with dethklok, tries to act like everything's normal and fine, oh no we don't miss people we hardly notice that they're gone. he refuses to try to help him because at this point he's all but completely shut down emotionally, and it takes external pressure to snap him (and the rest of the band) out of that mindset. and that pressure is the reminder that they can't shut each other out, that toki is important to the band, that toki is their brother. and bringing all that back to magnus, nathan is the one left with the guilt that he didn't get the chance to have with magnus what he now has with toki and the rest of dethklok. whether he blames himself or magnus or both is unclear to me but all this is still so tragic.

fuck magnus, obviously. but damn nathan really needed closure with him.

[sapphire-weapon]

Clive, hush. Not only is it appropriate to give you the title of Mythos, but it’s one that you should’ve reclaimed and taken for yourself. In fact, I don’t know why Ultima even gave you that title. It’s kind of like naming a kid “Roger Stabbington” and then being surprised when he says “ok” and stabs people.

FFXVI had a lot of storytelling problems, but one of the issues that stands out the most is the refusal to explain the whole Mythos/Logos thing. There’s ATL entries about them, sure, but they’re kind of the most barebones, reductive explanations as to why those particular words/titles were chosen for Clive.

It’s time for me to put my “I was raised in an obnoxiously Greek family” hat back on once again and -- just as I did with the Hades II trailer -- break down all of the dumb ancient Greek nonsense being thrown at us in a video game.

“Mythos” isn’t actually a word that’s meant to be used as a title. The word “mythos” in and of itself refers to one of two things, depending on how it’s being used:

1. the compilation of folklore around a particular subject. For example, there’s the very famous myth of Hades and Persephone’s marriage, but there’s a whole mythos around the explanation of why seasons exist, and Demeter’s mourning of the loss of her daughter is only part of that mythos.

2. the plot of an ancient Greek tragedy -- just in general. The mythos of the story should have some sort of reversal (either the story starts off with the protagonist in a good place and ends with them in a bad one, or vice versa), and the intention should be to evoke fear or pity from the audience. Aristotle believed that the most tragic of stories were those involving violence between friends and/or family (and who does that sound like?) -- and, the worse the tragedy, the stronger the mythos.

So, to use the word “mythos” as a title implies that the person holding this title carries with them the legends and stories born from the hearts of mankind -- the “reason” behind mankind’s existence -- and then, through great tragedy, will become a legend in and of themselves.

Yeah, that kinda sounds like Clive, doesn’t it?

Ultima’s a fuckin idiot moron for naming him that and then expecting him to become anything else.

Another fun fact about the word “mythos” and how it relates to Greek tragedies, though:

Greek tragedies were historically performed in worship of Dionysus, who was the god of pleasure and indulgence. So, for Clive to be the human embodiment of Mythos, that means that his very existence serves the purpose of exalting carnal pleasure.

Clive Rosfield is actually, literally just personified sex appeal. He, himself is not a walking libido, per se -- but he’s meant to inspire that in everyone around him.

And he kind of does, considering how many characters in-game want to polish his knob.

Anyway. We’re getting off track I WANT HIM TO GIVE ME SADDLE SORES THAT LAST AT LEAST THREE DAYS

The word “logos” is also not meant to be a title -- and, to be completely honest, I don’t feel like it works the way that the devs wanted it to work. Like, it’s fine. It’s serviceable. But it doesn’t exactly fit what Clive becomes the way that Mythos does.

A more modern interpretation of what the word “logos” means would probably be The Discourse(TM). Logos is the use of logic and reason to explain the nature of the world and mankind’s role in it. Aristotle basically thought of logos as being the thing that sets humans apart from animals -- it’s our sense of self and our ability to think objectively enough to create an actual moral compass.

So, basically, by calling Clive “Logos” Ultima’s just saying he’s attained free will and learned to think rationally on his own -- but that’s also a very basic bitch way of thinking about logos as a concept.

And it’s not as clean of a fit for him as Mythos is, considering that it wasn’t exactly Clive’s sense of self that got him to where he was (he spends like 85% of the game wondering what his purpose is), nor did his attainment of power have anything to do with rational, logical thinking. In fact, the game even goes out of its way to say that Clive is being held up by the faith of those who believe in him, which, I mean --

sure, if you also take into account the whole “Jesus Christ is thought of as being logos incarnate” thing, but like. Then that pulls away from the whole ancient Greek philosophy thing happening and goes into a different metaphor entirely, and everything just gets really muddy.

There are some scholars who believe that the concepts of mythos and logos aren’t mutually exclusive -- and, in fact, that logos actually grew out of mythos. The idea was that people started looking at the myths that they were using and started to apply logic and reason to them in order to get a more nuanced view of the world. But like...

In XVI, mankind started with rational thought when they realized that God (the God that they knew existed and were not just making up as myths) had abandoned them, and then they joined together as a community to create their own image for the world through their use of mythos.

So, I really think the game got it backwards. Clive wasn’t Mythos who became Logos. He was Logos who became Mythos.

But like. Gold star for trying.

I’M JUST SAYING THAT CLIVE HAVING THE TITLE OF “MYTHOS” IS REALLY FUCKING HOT AND EVERY TIME SOMEONE CALLS HIM THAT MY PULSE QUICKENS BECAUSE HE IS LITERALLY SHOULDERING THE HOPES AND DREAMS OF MANKIND AS THE EMBODIMENT OF THE POWER OF HUMAN CREATIVITY IN SERVICE TO A SEX RITUAL

[linkspooky]

HELLO, MAKI. 

Haven’t we had enough of Naoya? (This is a joke to any Naoya fans out there). After experiencing a total loss, and being stabbed brutally in the back afterwards, Naoya is back as a vengeful cursed spirit. Apparently, even death cannot get rid of him. However reprehensible as a character Naoya is, he serves an important role in the story. 

He is a negative foil not only to Maki, but also the Zenin clan as a whole. A literary foil is any character compared and contrasted to another character in literature, I say negative foil because Naoya is a character who shines a bright spotlight on all of Maki’s negative character traits. As different as they may seem, Maki and Naoya were raised in the same household, and they both represent the consequences of the toxicity of the Zenin clan. 

1. Maki and Naoya

There are actually, several parallels between Naoya and Maki in the story that require looking closer at both characters. Considering their similiar backgrounds, and yet completely opposite upbringings it only makes sense they would be pitted against each other as enemies. 

There are a lot of ways they represent opposites. The first and most obvious being that Maki is a woman, and Naoya is a man. Even if Maki were born with a cursed technique, her being a woman would detract from her status in the clan. It’s established early on that the Zenin clan mistreats women, and Momo even elaborates there are differing expectations for female sorcerers. One example she names is women are not allowed to carry scars without being judged, and Maki ends up with scars on her entire body. Naoya’s literal introduction is him not only benefitting from his status as a male heir in the clan, but also reinforcing the inferior position of women. 

Naoya and Maki represents absolute opposite ends of the power dynamic in the Zenin clan, a position of privilege and one of oppression. However, they also both come into conflict with the values represented by the Zenin Clan. The interesting thing about Naoya is that despite being what is practically the favored son in his family, and the most likely to inherit the clan head position, he’s also someone who disagrees with a lot of the way the Zenin are doing things.

He’s one of the only Zenin who mentions over and over again, that Toji being excluded from the clan was a mistake and great loss from them. He has absolutely no respect for his elders just because of tradition. 

He also bucks tradition in several ways, he makes a mention of how hypocritical it was for the clan to throw out Toji for having to rely on cursed tools to fight, when they all walk around brandishing weapons too. 

Even though they both have problems with how the zenin clan runs things, Naoya’s comes from his superiority complex, and Maki’s from her position of inferiority. She uses weapons and cursed tools to fight because she has too. They are connected in a strange way through Toji, Naoya was one of the few who recognized his strength, and Maki is the second coming of Toji, because the Zenin clan refused to accept Toji, and even continued to oppress another person born without cursed technique like Toji, they manufactured another monster. The cycle of abuse repeats itself. It’s even implied that Toji was someone who could have slaughtered the whole clan all along, but unlike Maki because he had Megumi and needed Megumi to have a place to belong that he couldn’t provide he spared the rest of the clan. So, Maki is someone they uniquely pushed even further than Toji by removing the one person holding her back. 

Naoya and Maki are also people, who wanted to become head of the Zenin clan for completely opposite reasons. Naoya believes he is entitled to become clan head, not only because he inherited the previous clan head’s technique but he is also obsessed with the idea that he is someone like Satoru Gojo and Toji, someone who is on the other side. When he’s denied what he thinks he’s owed, he turns to violence and is willing to kill Megumi someone mostly uninvolved in order to get what he wants. Naoya ironically,w as born with an incredibly powerful jujutsu technique that made him the favored son, and the one most expected to lead, but he wasn’t born with the Ten Shadows, which is THE inherited technique of the Zenin Clan. 

In other words Naoya thinks he was born special, but some random outsider, the son of an unwanted person whow as kicked out of the clan, was born even MORE SPECIAL than he was. Whatever will he do? 

Maki’s desire to inherit the clan is in response to the abuse she’s faced. She believes after leaving the clan, walking back in and defeating the head to prove herself is in effect proving them wrong about her. It’s something she has to accomplish all on her own. It’s something she even excludes Mai from and her relationship with Mai suffers from it. 

Ther is one more connection, the two of them both have soured relationships with their siblings. This is important, because the entire Zenin massacre is kicked off from the fact that Mai dies, and Maki lives. Maki prioritizes herself and her pride, and most of all her desire to prove herself as strong over Mai, and neglects her. Her own ambitions are more important than Mai, and so she leaves. 

It’s not that Maki doesn’t love Mai, she just thinks at that time she only way she can keep on loving herself is to stand on her own. It’s a complicated reaction to abuse, but she effectively does the same thing as Naoya. She seperates herself from her siblings. Naoya has no love for his older brothers whatsoever, he only thinks of himself and his ambitions for the clan. He dismisses his brothers as weak, and therefore unncessary therefore holding him back. While Maki doesn’t actually regard Mai that way, it’s what Mai thinks during her death scene. 

They also, both survive the deaths of their siblings. Naoya as a curse of course, but as of right now, discounting Megumi, after the Zenin clan slaughter Naoya and Maki are practically the only ones left we know are alive. 

The last parallel is how they are both curses ins a sense, Naoyais a literal one becoming a vengeful cursed spirit. Maki became like a curse onto the Zenin clan. Not only does she represent  the consequence for their continued abuse of both Toji, and her. She quite literally, killed them all in revenge for Mai. Everyone who looks at Maki is remidned of TOji. Twins are said to be a potent of Ill-Omen in the clan. Maki’s slaughter of the clan even seems karmic and inevitable, a result of their own pride coming before the fall. 

2. Naoya and Maki

So then, why set up all these parallels between Maki and Naoya, other than to pit them against each other as enemies and make them fight. As I said before, Naoya functions as a negative foil. Despite the fact that he is quite literally, a toxic ball of bad traits all produced by his skewed upbringing in the Zenin household, he’s not a boring or one dimmensional character. Gege has said in interviews a few times, he doesn’t want to create characters who are one hundred percent in the right, or one hudnred percent in the wrong either. He also has written before in an interview with Choso on how to create villains who are not necessarily sympathetic, but have beliefs and principles in their own right. 

Naoya is not written to be a sympathetic character, however he has an important role he plays in the story, and there is a developed idea behind the reason that he and Maki clash. 

As for what Naoya represents for Maki, I believe he acts as a dark mirror, meant to reflect all of her negative traits and then exaggerate them. Maki is not immune to the toxicity of the household she grew up in, she is affected by it, that’s why it’s called toxicity because it poisons everyone. 

While Maki tends to repress a lot of her bad traits. After all Maki doesn’t even act on her violent urges towards the clan until she’s pushed until the absolute edge, despite everything she’s faced she tried at first to take over through legitimate channel. Naoya expresses all of his bad traits loudly. 

Naoya is acting as her ID, in a way. 

The Id, in other words I DESIRE. 

According to Sigmund Freud's psychoanalytic theory of personality, the id is the personality component made up of unconscious psychic energy that works to satisfy basic urges, needs, and desires.

THe id operates on the basis of the pleasure principal, which demands the immediate gratification of needs. If you were to apply a psychoanalytic lens to this story (I’m not talking about actual psychology, but fictional anylsis) the symbolic Id is the characters desire but also the driving force to fulfill that desire, the most basic urges that people all have tied directly to survival, hunger, warmth, shelter, etc. 

Freudian theory holds that the id is the first aspect of personality that develops. Babies cry for food, children don’t really think of anything else but satisfying their own needs first, if you offer them a cookie and tell them not to touch it, nine times out of ten they’ll take it anyway. As most people grow up, it would obviously be quite problematic if you acted out whenever you wanted, to fulifll whatever urge, need, or desire you had. 

These are observations, not necessarily proven scientific fact, but we’re talking about the symbolism used in the story, to communicate a deeper meaning. For example, there is somethin called a Freudian Trio on TVtropes which covers a similiar idea. Stories use these symbols a lot. Freud’s idea of the id also has a lot in common with the Jungian shadow, but with how childish Naoya is presented to us, how hungry, how lustful, I’m tempted to place him more as an id. 

That is what Naoya is presented to us as, a deeply spoiled and unsatisfied child who always wants more. When we’re shown his desire for power or glory, we even get a flashback of him appearing as a red-cheeked child. 

Naoya is, almost desire personified. He desires power for the clan. He constantly talks about his desires for women. He  desires, he desires, he desires. Id characters are almost constantly portrayed as hungry, lustful, or even quick to violence, because satisfying hunger, the drive to reproduce, fight or flight those are all ideas tied to natural instincts. 

Maki is someone horribly repressed, and unlike Naoya she doesn’t just act immediately to get what she wants, in fact you could even say her positive feelings are repressed, she’s not able to properly express love for her sister or communicate to Mai how much she means to her. 

When Maki gives into her desire for violence however, Naoya appears as her opponent. He is both the representative of that ID, and also a consequence for it. As Naoya even after being killed did not stay dead. And we reach the question we had at the beginning of this meta, wy exactly have him come back a cursed spirit when his character seemed done and defeated at the end of the Zenin massacre? 

Because, Maki didn’t do the right thing with the Zenin Massacre. Gojo gives this speech at the beginning of the manga, it would be easy for him to just slaughter everyone at the top, but someone else would come and replace them. We are seeing that unfold now. 

The solution to beating the cycle of violence, isn’t more violence. As much as people may need to resort to violence sometimes to defend themselves, as necessary as fighting back is especially against oppression, and as sympathetic as a character Maki is, indiscrimminately slaughtering everyone didn’t make things better. Maki’s face is even covered up when Gojo talks about how he needs to foster strong allies to his cause. 

Naoya’s resurrection of a curse is also a direct result of Maki’s decision to slaughter everyone. Maki defeats the Zenin corps to defend herself. Then she proceeds on from there, to confront her mother, ask her if she knew about Ogi’s plans to kill Mai, and then kill her. Here we are again at the complex cycle of abuse the Zenin clan represents, Maki’s mother is both an abuser and a victim. Maki doesn’t really have to forgive her mother, but this is what hapepns when you make the decision to indiscrimmately slaughter, there are often more complicated cases of victimhood, who get acught up in it. Abuse cycles. Maki’s decision to kill her mother, pushed her mother to stab Naoya as her last action, and Naoya’s death without cursed energy brought him back as a vengeful cursed spirit. 

As I said Maki doesn’t have to forgive her mother, she’s perfectly entitled to hate her, and the situation is complex, I’m merely saying there was a consequence for her actions. The abuse of the Zenin clan doesn’t just end with Maki’s decision to kill everyone. Naoya comes back, because things aren’t over, Maki is still caught up in this cycle of abuse. There is some ominous foreshaodwing surrounding Maki, Momo refers to her as a monster now, there still might be more consequences for the massacre of the Zenin coming. Naoya appearing again as Maki’s id, representative of her desire for revenge, her desire to solve things with violence, may be a reminder that Maki’s arc isn’t entirely over and she may not be the in the best mentally healthy place right now. Which is why Maki is such a fascinating character, and I’m interested to see what Gege will do with this, and where it will take her in the future. 

[veintrry]

linked regrets.

diluc & kaeya, ragbros, familial, non-ship. I wrote this ages ago and it is not proof read.

note! please, if you ship kaeluc do NOT interact with this. this is not a page for that.

an: i wrote this back in june and i'm pretty sure (like 99.9%) this was inspired by fains artwork because I absolutely adore them and the emotion they display with their art (its literally my wallpaper TT.)

@/f_ai_n on twt & ig

It's hard to explain what it is like to have a sibling. Someone you grow up with, you see them change and learn new things as they do the same with you. You watch yourselves find who you are as people and no matter what happens there's a fact of 'we are siblings'. It's different from friends and definitely not like other families. This is someone who knows me, and has watched me for ages. You learn to adapt to having someone else with you.

...Say, how would you feel if you saw your brother lying above you, his arms shaking, trying to use whatever strength he had left to keep himself up?

Kaeya's face isn't meeting Diluc's, he refuses to make eye contact, to have his brother have to see how much this pain aches. But, even when he had a sword stabbed into his back, having to witness what his brother's face looked like was worse than this. It's ironic, is it not? To be wounded in your back? Back stabber. That's what he felt he was. He felt he was a traitor, not only to Diluc and their father but to his nation.

No matter what side Kaeya was on, he lost. And now Diluc was losing, again. Diluc wasn't just losing his brother, he was losing everything. He was losing his family, and so was Kaeya. The Captain had long lost himself, but in this moment, even though he felt his mind getting hotter, the heat slowly spreading down his body, he found his eyes swelling with tears. There were so many regrets he held, and one of them was right here.

When Diluc was first brought down to the ground he had attempted to latch onto the body that came onto him, but, at the sight of that long recognizable blue hair, his grip weakened, letting the surprise overtake what his emotions. Why had Kaeya clung onto him so tightly, why were his fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes and into his skin. When would he ever need to use enough strength to tackle him down? There was no argument between them, not currently. They didn't like each other but they never got physical, not after that.

Kaeya was processing this quicker than Diluc was. None of this made sense, not until he saw him.

Do you know what it's like to see your brother impaled? To see the blood redder than the hair of the fellow with his back on the wet grass begin to stain his clothing? Kaeya wasn't clumsy, he wasn't one to make a mistake, especially not when it came to swordplay. He had led the Knights to fight, to fight against the Fatui that had taken advantage of how much smaller Mondstadt was compared to the Fatui after distateful negotiations. It was no smart idea, no, but, had they put up with them any longer the streets would've been filled by fatui agents, masks covering their faces and protecting their crimes.

Dilucs hands immediately found their way on the others shoulders. His eyes wide open and his lips sealed, he could feel his throat growing dry. A hand moved to Kaeya's jaw, urging him to look up at him, to see him. He allowed him that privilege, but can he really call it that when he was dying right before him? It was the same thing over again, but now it was Kaeya.

Kaeya, all he had. They still called each other brothers, well, at least Kaeya did. The hand on his shoulder travelling to his back, pulling him closer as he says his name so quietly it sounds like a whisper. What had they come to be?

They had collected seashells together, they'd compete to see who could catch the most anemoflies and bottle them up, lighting up their world. He was still a little boy to him but he had grown so much without him. He left him for a reason, because he didn't want that, he didn't want to handle this, he didn't want this. He wanted to not feel this damn depriving pain ever again, so why are you so cold? Why are you colder than you usually are, Kaeya? Tell me, Kaeya, why is it that I can't give you my warmth, why won't you take it?

His mouth opens, but he's cut off when the Captain talks. "Don't give me that look, 'Luc. You're making me miss that annoyed glare you'd give me." An airy laugh came out with a sharp pain following after. Every second felt like a minute, no, a century long to him, and he had been feeling every nerve in his body struggle. It was like his body had gone numb but yet he could feel all his senses well, all too well. "Why…" Diluc started, his voice hoarse and confused, as though it was waiting for an explanation, an answer.

Gazing up at Kaeya made him want to… hug him. How he seemed to not understand what was happening, as though he was denying it. And it somewhat really dawned on Kaeya that at the end of the day, Diluc did care. Diluc was himself because Kaeya was there, and the same was for him. If he lost him, who would he have? "Diluc… I don't think I could live with myself if I let you die." He hated seeing the injured man before him laugh and smile. Even now, he was continuing this charade of his, even in front of him. "Shut up. Don't stare at me with a face like that." Kaeya shot back instantly, ignoring what had been said but only seconds ago. "I should be saying that to you." His lips pressed into a line as he thought out his following words. "Tell me, Brother, how am I meant to be okay with leaving you when you look at me like that?" The man who would shut the Tavern down just to get rid of Kaeya was here, practically begging him to stay with just the eye contact they shared.

AN: HIII SO FUNNY THING- yeah, turns out I never finished writing this, but as an apology here is a fun fact! there is a line that says, "And it somewhat really dawned on Kaeya that at the end of the day, Diluc did care." the reason why it is in the past is because Kaeya had already somewhat come to terms with his death since he always knew it would happen! It's likely if Diluc were to know this he'd correct him, "I do care."

[starrose17]

ok i'll bite cos youve got me intrigued. i wont ever play hogwarts legacy but who are these people Sebastian and Ominus that you keep reblogging about?

AH HA!

Okay yes thank you I'm glad someone asked but there will be MANY spoilers ahead!!!

Both Slytherin boys, 15 years old, basically they're your characters best friends in Hogwarts Legacy regardless of the House you choose, and have a integral part to play on if you choose to go down the good or evil route.

Ominis Gaunt is a parseltongue, and blind, and his "sentient" wand pulls him around Hogwarts. Possible great uncle to Voldemort (according to the dates in the HP wiki), his family would torture the local muggles by using Crucio on them (his brother possibly Marvolo Gaunt it's never officially stated in the game).

As a child Ominis refused to participate, so his family used Crucio on him until he relented and used Crucio on the muggles too, something he's never been able to forgive himself for. Because of this he hates the ties to the dark arts that his family has and distances himself from them entirely, and anything to do with the dark arts in general.

Which is what makes the angst so great and the shipping so great when it comes to his best friend, Sebastian Sallow.

Sebastian is crucial to the story, he has a sister named Anne who was cursed and is in constant pain (it's a long story i won't go into but it's a big part of the plot of the game) and who had to leave Hogwarts to remain at home with her uncle as their parents died a few years back.

In a desperate attempt to try and cure her Sebastian delves into the dark arts and teaches himself all 3 unforgiveable curses across the game (he can teach your character too if you choose), which causes the dark arts hating best friend Ominis to constantly be berating him, yet constantly forgiving him, yet constantly hating him for choosing this path, yet constantly refusing to leave his side and AHHHH I LOVE IT!

Some parts of the game get REALLY dark, like there's one quest where you're finding this secret scriptorium that belonged to Salazar Slytherin, and your character is trapped with both of them in a small corridor with nothing but a dead body belonging to Ominis' aunt, a locked door with screaming faces on it, and the word CRUCIO scratched on the floor.

The only way forward is to cast Crucio on one of the others, which the aunt couldn't do because she was trapped there alone so she starved to death. Ominis refuses to do it despite the fact he's the only one that's done it before, so Sebastian either casts it on your character, or you can cast it on him. Either way, poor Ominis standing there only able to hear one of his best friends scream in agony while the other uses a dark curse must be torture for him! (excuse the heart eyes oh baby the angst).

I mean throughout the game Sebastian uses Imperio to make a goblin stab himself instead as he was about to kill Anne, he also murders his own Uncle using Avada Kedavra, and at the end you and Ominis can either turn him over to the authorities (which ends with you hearing he's been expelled and awaiting trial), or you can keep it all a secret. Either way there's Azkaban angst or forgiveness between the deeply damaged Ominis who just cannot turn away his best friend despite the darkness that surrounds him, he will stick with him always <3<3<3<3

Plus there's also a ton of flirting that goes on, between them and your character. My favourite is just before the crucio part where we're all exploring in pitch black corridors:

Sebastian: "Hmm, a dark ominous corridor......my favourite."

Ominis: "...no comment."

I literally guffawed at that, a literal guffaw, I mean what were the writers actually trying to say here because it's damn obvious and yet... XD LOL

Plus around the time you first meet Sebastian (depending on what House you chose), you meet him during the dueling lesson and he just looks at you and says, "Time to give you a proper Hogwarts welcome." in this like proper sultry cheeky voice there's no other way of describing it.

Ahem, so, yeah...I might love them just a bit.

Ah, feels good to be back in the HP fandom again.

[fumblingmusings]

oh woah what's nyo ireland and nyo england's relationship like in the modern times? do they try to reach out to each other? and wow the mommy issues that nyo england's kids are gonna inherit

Ahsnfbf I didn't want to say because I've probably already blabbed about it too much at this point but yes absolutely mummy issues abound there. I guess it's up to the individual how far you take it, because it can get pretty dark if left unchecked.

My favourite dynamic in Hetalia is the push and pull for these guys who are nations vs who they are as people. You can't live as long as they do without forming opinions which run contradictory to what your government or even the majority of your people believe in. So for the kids they have that push and pull of 'that's my mum' versus 'my mum is the figurehead of something terrible' versus 'I'm part of something terrible'... so messy.

The kids mum as Alice or Annie or Elizabeth or whatever you wanna call her (I won't lie most Anglo-Saxon names are a mouthful for girls save Edith which yeah okay Ada, Eva, Eddie etc. are nice nicknames, or you go older for Morgan which is a more literal flipping of names pertaining to the Arthur myth... choices choices), is the kind of mum who's indulgent, clingy and melancholic. Which... is definitely not a great mother long term. England as the head of an Empire is a whole other kettle of fish. And yet the woman for the longest time refuses to disentangle them, or ask others to do the hard work for her.

Like... Oh! Not to equate them in any meaningful manner, but in Game of Thrones, the way that Cersei is with her youngest boy? That's how I picture England with the kids. Like this:

Is definitely something she would have done with Alfred at one point. The telling stories as much to comfort herself about what's going on as to reassure her kids whilst looking like she's three steps from stabbing someone's eye out in a fit of pent up anxiety. That story about a lioness and her cubs is definitely a fable she would have passed on whilst they were in the cradle and older, with all the excessive pet names and nervous petting of hair and skin, grasping and kneading them like a literal cat... It's suffocating, even for the kids who are more tactile.

She's good at playing the victim and playing up the fragility too (white womanhood and imperialism are such sinister methods of control), so when the time comes the kids, especially the boys, feel more than duty bound to protect her, not just as a Dominion to the mother country but also in instances like that's their mum piss off you angry German... man...creep... twice over. I don't think they ever quite let that personal relationship go, even when the political does not work that way anymore. She still knits them jumpers at Christmas is what I mean (not that Oz needs it but...) and goshdarn it her patterns really are good... But otherwise they're loyal to the woman, not the country. And yet that still has a somewhat insidious implication about it?

The boys have it worst. I think America and fem!England's relationship would be an absolute hot mess of indescribable intersecting definitions. England is no longer my mother country but she's still my mum actually no wait not like that either fuck her (not like that except...) and actually no wait maybe yes like that to the mum thing and how dare she look at other people the way she used to look at me look at me now look at me! Meanwhile Matthew's more an emotional crutch/white knight archetype - all the ways he was groomed to be heir once Alfred left whilst everyone including England and Canada knew that America was still going to inherit whatever earth was left when England finally fell - and Oz is the replacement baby who knew right from the word go he was a replacement and... Like it would be quite easy to just end tumbling in straight up oedipal complex nonsense with it for sure.

But going back to her and Ireland... I think it's better than it ever has been in some ways, and yet worse in others? I don't think any apologies have been given, and I'm not sure it's expected from the other, even if it is wanted. The kind of thing where if they're both in the room they'll both find the same joke funny, they'll catch each other's eye and the smiles will fade, both will burn red and return their attention elsewhere. Some topics are safe, emotional intimacy... not yet.

I think they both would be much clearer headed now about what happened to them, each other and what the other did and why, and that empathy would lead to understanding, but neither are at the point of talking about it. They don't really argue anymore, so now it's at the stage of 'well we're not fighting so we must be doing better right?' when really all that's happening is pushing the dirt under the carpet. Whereas before they were confronting it - terribly - now it's all avoidance. Again, I think one party (England...) is keener for that approach than the other.

[seiya-starsniper]

and if I get burned, at least we were electrified - Chapter 1

On their next meeting, Hob realizes the pattern.

The man (vampire? werewolf? some otherworldly being?) comes after Hob every 100 days. The irony of this is not lost on Hob. Of course Hob would end up with not one, but two mysterious otherworldly strangers with a penchant for refusing to give Hob their names, forcing him to come up with nicknames in his head. He can’t very well name them Stranger 1 and Stranger 2 though, so Hob decides that his centennial friend will remain The Stranger, and his new unintended sparring partner is now Murder Stalker.

---

Hob Gadling interrupts The Corinthian in the middle of a murder and explodes him back to The Dreaming. The Corinthian comes back for revenge. Hob keeps finding new ways to blow him up. At some point, it becomes something more.

Aka enemies to fuck-buddies to lovers.

Keep reading below, or read here on AO3

Hob Gadling is not sure what drove him to take a smoke near the dilapidated White Horse tavern instead of just outside The New Inn, but he’s now wishing he'd stuck closer to civilization as he would’ve completely avoided the mess he’s currently in.

It had been a late night at The New Inn, as end of semester time tends to be. It’s his worst kept secret to his students that he tends the bar there, and without fail, he always ends up entertaining a handful of them on the last day of finals. Hob’s glad he’s popular with his students, it not only keeps him gainfully employed, but also brings him an indescribable sense of achievement, knowing that he’s affecting so many young minds so positively. 

He’s riding high on the feeling of a semester well done, so he decides it's a great time to take a walk when he dips outside for a smoke after his students leave. This deviation from his normal routine is exactly how he finds himself witness to a murder.

When Hob thinks about it later, he realizes the area is fairly secluded, The New Inn is just far away enough, and loud enough, that no one would hear any sort of scuffle, or hell, even screams. Not to mention the old White Horse demolition site, which people generally avoid like the plague at night, is just steps away, making it more than an ideal place to hide a body if need be. 

But he has no time in the present to think about these things, because he’s rushing in to save some poor bloke that’s just been stabbed with his pants around his ankles.

Hob thinks at first the poor man is the victim of some homophobic attack, but upon coming face to face with the man’s attempted murderer, Hob concludes there is absolutely no way the blond in front of him is heterosexual.

He looks like he just walked off a spread in GQ magazine, incredibly fit and with bed-mussed hair. He’s wearing a tailored beige suit and also, bewilderingly, the darkest shades Hob has ever seen on anyone, in the absolute dead of night. Hob thinks the man must be blind, but he's quickly disavowed of the notion when he tries to wrestle the knife out of the man's hands.

Hob realizes very quickly the man is a lot faster than he is, even with the quick reflexes he's developed over the centuries. Hob briefly wonders if his reflexes really aren't as fast as he thought, or maybe he's just drunk, then decides it doesn't matter because he's completely overpowered either way.

The man slashes a deep line in Hob’s throat, and he collapses as he begins to choke on his own blood. No matter how many times Hob gets stabbed, shot, or broken down, he can never get used to the pain that comes with each new injury. Immortality may have its fair share of perks, but pain tolerance is definitively not one of them. 

The bespectacled man looks all together far too pleased at his handiwork because he stares for a few seconds watching Hob gurgle through his blood, and then he has the audacity to lick his lips. It would be a downright sinful look at literally any other time, and Hob hates himself for still finding a literal murderer attractive while he’s bleeding all over his favorite shirt.

Seemingly satisfied with his handiwork, the blonde man turns around and returns to his work on his original victim. Hob can hear the telltale squelching as knife meets flesh and he realizes through his otherwise hazy vision that he's removing the other man's left eye while he is still alive.

Hob wants to throw up but forces himself to lay still, willing his breathing to be as quiet as possible to not alert the murderer barely a few meters away from him. He’s sure that the other man is too engrossed in his task to notice that Hob has stopped struggling to breathe, but even if he did, he probably would have just thought Hob eventually bled out. When Hob feels his vision begin to clear and the wound on his throat close up just enough to allow him the shallowest of breaths, he looks around to see what he can utilize to stop the man from continuing his gruesome activities. 

Hob ends up putting together a crude Molotov cocktail, utilizing his torn bloody shirt, a lighter in his front pocket, and some discarded bottles near his feet that blessedly still have their vodka inside them. He knows it's a long shot because the man moves far too fast to be purely human, but Hob's been around long enough to know most things, mortal or not, are not immune to fire. Hob sends a mental plea to whatever deity may be out there looking out for him, and then uses the last of his strength to chuck the crudely thrown together bomb at the man's back.

The man doesn't quite burn up the way a human being might. He screams at a pitch Hob’s never heard before when he realizes what’s struck him, and then suddenly his body is just….disintegrating? Except that's not quite right, either, all Hob knows is that the man is there one moment, gone the next, and there's no body, or even the smell of burning flesh to prove he was ever there. 

The only thing that remains of the mysterious serial killer is his dark round sunglasses, which Hob crushes under his boot in a moment of pettiness. Then he pulls out his phone and calls for emergency services. 

The constable stares at him suspiciously while Hob gives his statement, but there’s no murder weapon and Hob manages to cover up the stab tears in his shirt with a cardigan he keeps in his bag. Absolutely everything of Hob's is now soaked in blood, which makes him even more suspicious looking, but there's clearly no defensive wounds on him thanks to his expedited healing, so the police eventually buy his story that he came upon a man bleeding to death and tried his best to resuscitate him.

Unfortunately the poor bloke is long dead by the time he’s hauled into the ambulance. He's lost too much blood, and he’s missing an eye, and the thought that this mysterious murderer did not fully complete the job he set out to do should not spark something dark in Hob's ego, but it does. It's just as well though that the man died anyways, Hob's not sure the man would be able to process the sheer fuckery of what's happened tonight, his death covers up his murderer as much as it does Hob’s immortality.

Hob makes a note to look up demon exorcists when he gets home, then collapses on the bed, the adrenaline of fighting for his life having worn off. He decides he'll just burn the sheets and his clothes in the morning before he drifts off to a dreamless sleep.

Thank God tomorrow is Saturday.

—

When the blond man reappears, Hob is both surprised and not at the same time. He knew the man was not dead, but he also hadn't been expecting to see him so soon after their first encounter.

He's also not entirely surprised the man has tracked him to The New Inn. Hob's on a smoke break and as he lights up his cigarette, he notices the man smiling at him in the shadows from behind a brand new, not crushed, pair of dark rimmed glasses. Hob has barely a second to react before he’s staring down the long blade of a dagger that's far too close to his right eye. Hob briefly mourns the loss of his cigarette (they're so expensive these days), thanks his lucky stars he brought his coat with him, and pulls out his own weapon hidden within.

Hob doesn't believe in leaving things up to chance. He knows the man saw his face and he also knows the man is some sort of supernatural entity, and the buggers are a lot more resourceful than your standard run of the mill human. So Hob knows he's a marked man and frankly, anyone would be pretty pissed to be exploded back to Hell, or wherever this guy came from. For all that Hob is immortal, he can still be hurt or captured, and he hasn't lived all this time without running into a few of the things that go bump in the night, as well as the various ways to get rid of them.

Hob was woefully unprepared last time for his encounter with the blonde supernatural murderer. This time, Hob's got a few tricks up his sleeve, courtesy of the descendent of one Lady Johanna Constantine, who, hilariously enough, shares a name with her great -great-great-great grandmother.

"You're not going to be sending anything back to Hell with that horrible accent of yours," the blond mocks, blade barely missing Hob's check. Hob honestly thought he knew what type of being he was, but the man only laughs when he tries to douse him in holy water, and what the hell is wrong with his pronunciation anyways?!

Hob had spent the last 3 and a half months practicing dodging daggers and he's still too slow to match the other man blow for blow. Hob prepared for the eventuality of none of his carefully laid plans working but he's still so angry that not only has none of it worked, but that the blonde also finds his efforts so fruitless that he has time to mock him.

"Horrible accent, says the American," Hob shoots back disdainfully, shoving his blade towards the other man and missing spectacularly. Hob’s going to need new sparring partners if he hopes to survive any future knife fights with him. 

The man laughs again and Hob wills himself to not imagine that laugh in a different situation. He really, really needs to get out more if he's still finding himself attracted to a being that is currently trying its damnedest to cut his eyes out.

Hob knows for all his immortality, his stamina still has a limit, and he’s close to reaching it. The man must be able to tell too, because he redoubles his efforts to get at Hob’s eyes, and he’s so focused on that task that he doesn’t notice the talisman Hob’s able to stick on him when he gets just a little too close. Hob whispers one final spell, and even behind the shades, he can tell the man’s eyes widen in shock once he realizes what Hob has done. 

Hob smirks as the man is ripped apart, returning to wherever it is he goes when he needs to regenerate his body. He may not be a demon, but protection talismans still had their uses against him, and Hob makes a mental note to go reach out to that lovely coven of witches he happened upon in Edmonton. 

He's also going to have to tell Johanna that nope, the eye stealing murderer he's dealing with is not a standard demon from Hell. He's already dreading the conversation. Johanna's initial help had not come cheap for Hob and he just knows she's going to charge some exorbitant price from him to do additional research.

—

The third time they meet, the man is angry. Hob takes advantage of his less precise movements and leads him away from The New Inn, closer to the secluded area near The White Horse, where they first met. He eventually wrestles the blonde into a pair of iron forged handcuffs. They don't burn at the man's wrists, which confirms he isn't Fey, but they also don't break apart no matter how hard the man tugs at them. Hob did forge them himself, thank you very much, so he knows that even the strongest human would be hard pressed to break them without the aid of some extreme force.

“Pretty kinky,” the man says, flexing the cuffs behind his back. “Didn’t think we were at this stage of our relationship Robert.”

Hob knows it shouldn’t shock him that the man knows his name, he did track him down at his place of employment for Christ’s sake, but the surprise must show on his face because the blonde stranger laughs. 

“Of course I know your name, sweetheart," he says in the most condescending American drawl Hob has ever heard in his life. "I’ve been thinking about sinking my knife into you all day and all night.”

Hob very pointedly ignores the double entendre and reminds himself that eyeball stealing murderers do not make for good bed partners.

“Little unfair of you to know my name, when I don't know yours, sweetheart,"  Hob shoots back and he swears he sees a little shiver go down the blonde man's back at the pet name, even if it was delivered sarcastically.

"Tsk tsk Robert, no wonder your little tricks aren't working on me, you don't even know who or what I am," he goads, clearly enjoying having the upper hand in knowledge.

“Well, if you’re not willing to tell me that, then I guess I’ll just have to find something else about you,” Hob says and reaches for the blonde man’s glasses. The resounding snarl is so ferocious, Hob forgets himself and stumbles backwards in fear. The man must be sensitive about his eyes, because the next thing Hob knows, the cuffs are broken and it’s a race against time to see who can recover their weapons the fastest.  

Hob manages to launch an old grenade from his war days at the man as he picks up his signature knives, and the resulting explosion is loud enough to shake The White Horse. Hob doesn’t stick around for the aftermath but he hears the sirens in the distance as he hurries home as discreetly as possible.

—----

On their next meeting, Hob realizes the pattern.

The man (vampire? werewolf? some otherworldly being?) comes after Hob every 100 days. The irony of this is not lost on Hob. Of course Hob would end up with not one, but two mysterious otherworldly strangers with a penchant for refusing to give Hob their names, forcing him to come up with nicknames in his head. He can’t very well name them Stranger 1 and Stranger 2 though, so Hob decides that his centennial friend will remain The Stranger, and his new unintended sparring partner is now Murder Stalker. 

Hob has also tried to ply Johanna with information about The Stranger, but he had even less information on the man he’d been meeting for drinks over the centuries than he did on the man currently trying to harvest his organs. It's rather depressing. Johanna had also made fun of him for his physical description of The Stranger and told him "Mate, if I had a shilling for every dark-haired, dreary, brooding supernatural being roaming around London alone, I'd be a goddamn millionaire!"

So yeah. Hob's not doing too great in terms of the research regarding either of the supernatural entities he's somehow found himself embroiled with.

He also tried looking up supernatural entities that eat eyes but all he got was some Quora article on a recurring nightmare some people seem to be having about having their eyeballs eaten. Hob knows not to discount the power of dreams, he's met one or two genuine psychics who have shared their dream visions with him, but something tells him his Murder Stalker probably isn't some nightmare come to life in the real world.

Probably. Hob's never heard of dreams and nightmares becoming corporeal beings, but after everything he's seen in the last decade alone, it's as good of a theory as anything.

Back to the present predicament though.

Hob is currently attempting to wrap a silver chain around his still unnamed Murder Stalker, and all he gets for his trouble is delighted, mocking laughter.

"Jewelry? For me? I'm more of a gold man myself, Robert, but I won't ever say no to silver."

And with that, the man yanks the chain right out of Hob's hands and wraps it loosely around his neck, completely throwing out the theory of werewolf or vampire. Hob curses his impulsive purchase of silver bullets, but Johanna had been very persuasive when she'd sold them to him. He also may have been a little (a lot) more drunk than he'd intended. Damn the woman and her insane alcohol tolerance.

Hob wonders if he can get a refund, then decides he'd have more luck trying to convince his Murder Stalker to give up killing entirely and move with him to a farm in Surrey and take up sheep herding.

He's broken out his thoughts by the sound of a blade hurtling through the air and Hob has enough time to barely avoid taking a knife to his fucking eye. The blade nicks his ear, and takes some hair with it before it lands in the tree behind him.

Maybe he should start wearing protective eyewear in the near future.

"I thought you wanted my eyes intact, you maniac!" he yells, barely avoiding a second dagger that comes straight at his face.

"Not my fault that you're not paying attention!" his Murder Stalker yells back, the feral grin Hob’s grown used to back on his face. 

Hob thinks that just for that he’s going to be petty. It’s not like he has any other blindingly good ideas in his arsenal for today anyways, so he yanks the first knife out of the tree, whispers a quick spell into it and throws it back at the man. It explodes spectacularly in his hands when he flawlessly catches it, just like Hob expected him to.

Hob smiles as the man starts to disintegrate, then remembers an entirely different theory he'd wanted to test out just for shits and giggles, and yells, “See you in 100 days Corinthian!” right as the man disappears.

—

"How did you know it was me?" The Corinthian asks him the next time they meet, curiosity evident in his voice.

Hob grins. “I didn't. But thanks for confirming!” He gets a slash to his thigh for his troubles.

“It was really just a lucky guess,” he continues, trying to distract The Corinthian while he works to set up a rather complex spell. It is by far his most outlandish attempt to determine what kind of being the man is. “I was up late one night and one of those terrible American true crimes shows had a whole episode on The Corinthian! Everyone thinks it's just a legacy passed down from one serial killer to another but it's just been you all along, hasn't it?”

The smile Hob receives from the blonde is absolutely blinding. Who knew otherworldly beings just wanted acknowledgement for their accomplishments, just like everyone else? 

“Look at that, little Robert finally figured something out about me, took you long enough,” the man (no, The Corinthian, he finally has a name) says.  

“Cut me some slack!” Hob shoots back. There, the trap is finally set. “Some of us have other full time obligations to tend to, we can’t all just be running around murdering people.”

Hob really hopes no one at The New Inn will question why nearly all the salt that was supposed to last for the rest of month is suddenly, inexplicably, just gone. He’s already ordered a new batch that’s supposed to come in next week. In the meantime, the chips will just have to suffer being on the bland side.

When he lights the salt circle on fire, he can really only hope that no one thinks to call the fire brigade on him. The poor White Horse tavern is supposed to be preserved as a historical site, for fucks’ sake, and here Hob is, using it as his own personal supernatural fight club.

The Corinthian looks around his supposed trap, unimpressed.

“Do I look like an eldritch horror to you, Robert?” he sneers, kicking the salt away and dissolving months worth of effort in seconds. 

Hob shrugs. “I’m running out of otherworldly beings you could possibly be. And I actually haven’t confirmed whether or not you’re hiding some slimy tentacles under that coat of yours. All I know is that you love to murder, do questionable things with eyeballs, and everytime I blow you up, you don’t come back for 100 days. Why every 100 days anyways?"

"I don’t have to tell you a damn thing," The Corinthian bites back, and yep, he most definitely offended at being mistaken for an elder god with tentacles. Hob pointedly does not think about whether or not tentacles would be a deal breaker for him.

“I’ll show you a horror,” the Corinthian threatens, and Hob kicks his backup plan into action. He’s never made a flour bomb before, but the general idea is pretty simple. Flour dust and a spark. Hob grabs the second knife The Corinthian had thrown at him and aims it at the discarded bag of flour he’d left sitting atop the roof of the White Horse the night before. While The Corinthian is distracted and coughing up the unexpected spray of flour on his person, Hob flicks on his lighter and tosses it towards the blonde.

He’s pretty sure he can hear The Corinthian cursing at him through the explosion for ruining his coat.

Hob adds flour to his to-buy list and whistles while walking back to The New Inn.

—

On the 6th meeting (Who's counting? Certainly not Hob), The Corinthian finds him in a rather precarious position. Hob never thought he’d be glad to see The Corinthian of all people, but really, anything beats having to become an experiment for some crazy occultists who seem to think drinking his blood and harvesting his organs are going to make them live forever.

There's six of them and one of Hob, and although he holds his own in a fight with them for a good hour thanks to all the stamina he's gained while fighting The Corinthian, Hob knows he is still outnumbered. He’s starting to lose hope that he can avoid being forced to where they want to take him, but his prayers are answered in the form of a vengeful blonde, who clearly does not take kindly to his recurring meeting being interrupted by outsiders.

Between the two of them, Hob’s able to take down two men while The Corinthian manages the other four. Hob doesn’t even feel bad that they’re all dead, the better the message to send to any other potential cults that may or may not be following him around. He kicks the body of one of the occultists just for good measure.  

“Fuck these men, do whatever you want with their eyes, they got what's coming to them,” Hob says, not even bothering to hide the disdain in his tone. “Stupid fucking cultists.” Hob’s been around long enough to be hunted by more than a few cults, and he knows that they know nothing other than their own selfish greed. He’s lost more than a few good friends to cultists, so he feels absolutely zero remorse for their deaths and for letting The Corinthian harvest their eyes.

Hob’s snapped out of his dark thoughts towards the cultists when he hears The Corinthian’s knives cutting through flesh and Hob’s curiosity gets the better of him. He turns just in time to see two very aggressive eye mouths slurp up one of the dead man's eyeballs in one, two, three quick bites.

The Corinthian looks up from his snack and grins at Hob with all three mouths, his face bare for the first time in front of Hob. His glasses are tucked into his front coat pocket, and his cheeks are covered in a mixture of eye vitreous and blood. His tongue darts out absently to catch the liquid nearest his lips, and Hob, to his horror, finds the sight the most erotic thing he's ever seen in his life.

Well then.

The Corinthian almost immediately registers Hob's arousal, and his grin somehow grows even more feral. In between one step and the next he's suddenly crowding Hob up against the nearest flat surface, which happens to be the back exterior wall of The White Horse, and then he’s licking into his mouth while pressing his thigh in between Hob’s legs. Hob finds himself grabbing a fistful of blonde hair in one hand, The Corinthian’s ass in the other and yes, that’s just about as firm as he’d imagined it in his dirtiest fantasies alone in his flat.

In the dead of night, there's nothing but the sounds of their frantic panting and hips rutting against one another fully clothed. Hob is pretty sure the Corinthian doesn't even need to breathe, the bastard, but Hob does and he uses the opportunity to nip at The Corinthian's lip in warning when he pulls back.

"For the record, if you even try to take my eyeballs…" Hob starts, getting ready for a fight to erupt, but the Corinthian only laughs and kisses the rest of his sentence away.

"Yes, yes, you'll blow me to kingdom come and then some, I know the drill baby," he replies breathily, and begins to suck a deep bruise into Hob's throat. Hob is pretty sure he's using more than one mouth down there and he just somehow knows sex with The Corinthian is just going to absolutely ruin him for any other partners for the future, possibly forever. 

When he's satisfied with the frankly massive hickey he leaves on Hob's throat, The Corinthian pulls away and sends him a grin that has heat shooting straight down his spine.

"Besides," he adds, "I've had my fill in the eye department, what I want from you is going to be so much more fun," and the purr in those last few words is enough for Hob to make the executive decision to not have his first time with this gorgeous creature be in the middle of a pile of dead bodies, no matter how fitting the motif. The Corinthian deserves to be worshiped on a bed, and Hob is all too willing to sacrifice his own mattress if it means he gets more than a quickie in the back of a crumbling inn. 

"I've got a flat not far from here," he pants in between kisses.

"Ooo inviting me to your home, Robert? How dangerous." The Corinthian replies, his tone dark and inviting.

"As long as you promise not to get things too bloody, you're welcome to stay,” Hob says, and he finds that he means it.

"Good to know we can negotiate some blood play, baby, come on, take me home,” The Corinthian purrs and Hob doesn’t need to be told twice. The walk to his flat is mostly a blur, but once they reach their destination, The Corinthian does not hesitate to bodily push Hob into his bedroom.

Hob's thankful for his flat above The New Inn for a multitude of reasons. It's not only close to where he and The Corinthian meet every 100 days for their fight, but Hob's had the floors and walls soundproofed to block all the noise that comes from downstairs, making it also ideal for him and the Corinthian to be as loud and violent as they want.

The Corinthian is just as dominating in bed as he when he fights, and Hob comes so hard he's pretty sure he sees God. He has a brief thought that The Corinthian could probably take his eyes now and Hob wouldn't even notice, but one look at the other man tells him he's just as blissed as Hob from their lovemaking.

It doesn't last. 

Within 10 minutes of their mutual climaxes, The Corinthian is scrambling around for his discarded clothing. When he's fully dressed, he delivers a brutal kiss to Hob's still bruised mouth before waltzing towards the door. 

"See you in 100 days baby," The Corinthian coos and then in the blink of an eye he's gone and Hob is left alone in his flat.

It's the first time The Corinthian has left Hob by his own will and with all his body parts intact.

Hob lets his head fall back on his pillow and thinks to himself that he is totally fucked in the head.

Johanna is going to have a field day when Hob next talks to her.

—--

They fuck like rabbits the next three meetings. It's quite possibly the best sex Hob has ever experienced in his almost 700 years of life. The meetings always start the same, The Corinthian tries to kill him, Hob somehow subdues him (it's the cuffs, it's always the cuffs) and then instead of exploding the serial killer back to wherever he came from, Hob drags the man upstairs to his flat above The New Inn. Sometimes the blonde opens up for him like a flower, allowing Hob to tease him within an inch of his life. Other times, it's The Corinthian who sets the pace, and it's always brutal and unrelenting. He nearly bends Hob in half when he thrusts into him, and Hob loves every second.

He hadn't ever considered it before, but now that he's been with the Corinthian more than a few times, Hob realizes that he's glad to finally have a bed partner that knows the full lengths of his immortality. The Corinthian Isn't afraid to be just on the other side of rough and painful during sex, and Hob does his damn best to give as good as he gets.

On their tenth meeting, The Corinthian doesn't even make an attempt to try to slaughter Hob for his eyes first, he simply corners him in the alley behind The New Inn during a smoke break, and bites his way into his mouth. Hob’s barely lit cigarette is crushed underneath their feet, and he thinks that if The Corinthian were trying to get him to quit smoking, this was a fantastic way to go about it.

It's only after he goes back inside and someone screams upon seeing him that he realizes The Corinthian smeared blood all over his clothes. Blood Hob knows doesn’t belong to his supernatural fuckbuddy. His stomach sinks at the thought of some poor innocent being used as foreplay for the two of them and resolves to tell off the blonde in their next meeting. He'd rather go back to their old arrangement and risk his own immortal life than add to the already extensive body count he knows The Corinthian keeps growing (maybe, just maybe, Hob has an extensive file on The Corinthian and all his murders overseas and in the UK).

When Hob turns on the news a few days later, it's to a breaking report of a known child molester being fished out of the river with no eyes. 

Hob weighs the pros and cons of the knowledge, and decides that one less terrible person on the street isn't the worst price to pay for one of the best orgasms of his life.

He still decides against telling Johanna Constantine of his new arrangement with The Corinthian. She'd reacted poorly to his last story and called him a lunatic for even entertaining the man in his bed.

"Next time you even think about that eye fucker," she had berated him over a round of drinks, "You must think instead, WWJD: What Would Johanna Do? And I can tell you, she would not fuck a demon!"

"But he's not a demon, remember? The exorcism didn't work!"

"Not the fucking point Hob. Not the fucking point at all."

—

While waiting for their eleventh meeting, Hob decides to do a bit of research.

When he’d finally confirmed The Corinthian’s identity, Hob had absolutely devoured all the information he could about the United States’s most prolific serial killer. His murders date back almost a century, and there’s thousands of theories on whether The Corinthian is actually a family of murderers or some sort of cult. 

If only they knew the truth. 

The victims had started out quite randomly, as serial killers tended to do. A schoolteacher here, an office worker there. Hob finds that while plenty of the victims are homosexual men, there are some women thrown in there too. Never any children though. Interesting. 

But as Hob goes through the reports on The Corinthian's latest killings, he notices a markedly different trend dating back to…oh just short of a year and a half after he and Hob had begun to meet regularly. 

As far as Hob (and the general news) can tell, The Corinthian right now is only exclusively hunting down other known criminals. Some of which are other serial killers the police themselves have had trouble tracking down. In fact, were it not for The Corinthian carving out their eyes and leaving their bodies lying around, there’s a chance those same killers would still be on the loose.

Huh. Well then.

—

“Been noticing a lot of dead criminals missing their eyes lately, had a change of heart?” Hob asks one night after a surprisingly vanilla bout in the sheets. There hadn’t been any stabbing attempts this time. Progress.

The Corinthian hums in consideration as he pulls his coat on. “No, they just happen to be my favorite types lately.”

“Favorite? And only lately?”

The Corinthian grins and nips at Hob’s neck affectionately.

"You've made me realize I like it when my food fights back." Then, considering the discussion closed, the blonde moves to leave. 

Hob, in what can only be described as a moment of insanity, grabs The Corinthian sleeve and says "Stay."

"Stay?"

—

The Corinthian stays the night. Hob uses his tongue to convince him to stay another night. On the third night, The Corinthian leaves with no warning and Hob wonders if his type isn't just men who are allergic to attachment. At least this time he's getting a little bit more out of the arrangement, but his heart feels heavy all the same.

To both their surprises, The Corinthian doesn't even make it the next 100 days before their next encounter. He shows up to Hob's flat in the middle of one of the worst rain storms of the summer, looking like a drowned cat.

Hob immediately knows something is different, and while the logical part of him is screaming Danger! Murderer! Do not engage! Hob's feet move backwards to let The Corinthian into his flat. He peels the man's wet coat off him and settles him onto the couch, then goes to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

The silence between them is heavy.

"I'm glad you're here. I've missed you," Hob tries for casualness even though he can feel his hands shaking. Holding back from touching The Corinthian is one of the hardest things in the world, he thinks.

The Corinthian snorts. "You've missed me? Pretty bold of you to say to the man that's been trying to disembowel you for the better part of a decade.” Hob hasn’t heard The Corinthian’s defensive tone in quite a while. It’s surprising, but with the way things ended last time, maybe it isn’t at the same time.

“I've been keeping up with you in the news, you know. Looks like you've been having a field day in America.” Hob thinks as long as he can keep talking, he can keep The Corinthian from leaving again. 

The blonde man grins, as if he’s in on a joke that Hob won’t understand. "I'm a murderer,” he chirps, standing from Hob’s couch, ignoring the tea Hob’s given him. “I kill people for fun. It's what I was made to do.” He says this last sentence quite pointedly, and ah, Hob thinks he understands now. 

"So I've noticed," Hob replies. "You’ve got a pretty large body count that goes back pretty far. But you've been killing different types of people lately. What was it you said back then? You like it when your food fights back?"

"Entirely your fault by the way.” The Corinthian snaps.

“All right,” Hob placates, then takes a deep breath. “So then…let me help you.”

“What?” It’s clearly the last thing The Corinthian is expecting to hear. Hob takes advantage of the shock and continues to push his, admittedly, wild and crazy proposition.

“If it's my fault that you can only eat a certain type of food, then let me help you. London's chock full of criminals that get away with horrible things too, it’s not exclusive to America.” Hob says matter of factly.  “The way I see it, you're doing humanity a favor by keeping this up, aren't you?”

The Corinthian laughs, but Hob can tell it’s not genuine. There’s an old hurt there, he can tell. Something or someone probably tried to keep The Corinthian from killing all together, and he didn’t take too kindly to that. 

“See, you're running on the assumption that those types are the only ones I'm killing.” The blonde says.  “For all you know, there’s dozens more bodies the cops just haven’t found.”

“Then we'll work on that,” Hob says, matter of factly.

“Work on it?” The Corinthian repeats, incredulous. “What makes you think you can control me?” he challenges. 

“I don't think that,” Hob says honestly.  “But all relationships have to put in some compromises, so I don't think it's too much to ask you to be a bit more discerning with your murders.” Hob pretends he doesn't hear the choked "a relationship?!" in the middle of his soapbox and presses on.

“Look, I'm not going to beat around the bush, I don't know what you are or why you feel so inclined to murder humans, but if it really is in your nature, then it is what it is,” he shrugs and when he meets his eyes, he can tell The Corinthian knows he’s telling the truth. Hob’s been alive for a very long time. He knows that Death is inevitable for almost everyone and he also knows that there's no rhyme or reason to who gets to live and who gets to die. 

"I've had enough brushes with supernatural entities, especially in the last few years, to know that there are things I just can't assign human morality to" Hob continues. "And that's fine. But you and I keep coming back to each other, and I'd like you to stay. I think you want to stay too."

Hob thinks he must be an idiot for telling yet another supernatural being that the reason they keep coming back to him time and time again is for his companionship but damnit, the man isn't his Stranger, he's somehow become more in less amount of time, and isn't that something? Hob's always worn his heart on his sleeve anyways and he can't deny that somewhere along the line, he’s fallen for this fucked up, inhumane creature, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to see if the spark between them is just that, a spark…or something more. 

The Corinthian is silent for a long time, but he doesn't leave, and that alone is enough to give Hob hope.

“You are infuriating Robert Gladlen,” he finally says. “Fine then, let’s see what being a kept man looks like. If I get bored, I’ll just take your eyes in your sleep and leave.” The feral, self deprecating smirk is back but Hob doesn’t care. He feels himself grinning like a fool. The smile on Hob’s face must be unexpected because The Corinthian’s smirk slides right off his face just as fast as it had been put there. Hob decides to go all in.

“It's Gadling,” Hob says, stepping into the other man’s space and taking his hands in his. “My original name.” He presses a kiss into The Corinthian’s knuckles, taking note of the slight shiver he receives in response. “You can even call me Hob, if you'd like.”

"Hob Gadling," The Corinthian tests out the name, and Hob finds he really likes the way he says it. "What are you, some sort of medieval peasant?"

“Something like that,” Hob says lightly. He thinks he’d tell his whole life story to this infuriating being if he asked. 

“I've changed my mind,” The Corinthian declares loudly, pulling his hands away and raising his arms dramatically.  “I can't be seen with a poor man like this, my reputation will suffer.”

Hob thinks he may be walking on clouds. “Sure, sure. Now I don't know about you, but I'm starving, and not for eyeballs. Dinner then?”

“Only if it’s not that garbage you serve at this third rate pub downstairs.” The Corinthian sneers.

“Hey! There's nothing wrong with my pub food!” Hob argues. “You’ve never even been inside, I’d like to point out, so how can you tell me you hate the food?”

"What was that you said about all relationships having compromises?” The Corinthian says with what looks like a genuine smile finally on his face. “Well my compromise sounds like a nice Wagyu Steak, any idea where we can get one?"

"Christ you're going to be expensive, aren't you?"

"The best things in life are, Hobsie,” The Corinthian laughs.

“Now hang on just a second!”

[indigo-villin]

Security breach ruin dlc spoiler post!!

This spoilers, all the til the end.

So Monty dies, i hate that.

Chica just flumps over and is done, I hate how they massacred her.

Roxy is screwed up, but at least she's saving Cassie too.

Freddy's body was left to get messed up.

The princess quest ending is clearly canon. Proof: Freddy's body left in fazer blast, in ar mode the princess quest 3 game has a golden sword stabbing it like a stereotypical hero killing the villian with a sword to the heart and heaving there sort of thing, the fact afton himself isn't really anywhere but the mimic is instead (and we see the blob for like a second doing its own thing in the underground).

We also finally see glamrock Bonnie's body... it's pretty messed up..

HEADCANONS BELOW

Now I'm gonna explain all the things I believe happened.

Monty didn't kill Bonnie. It was either afton and vanny for parts (which would explain why in his ending he could charge using one of the station pods), the rouge staff bots, or the mimic.

That is Freddy's body, I don't care if the word prototype is on the bottom, do you really think the company actually has the koney/motive to completely recreate a shell for then if not needed? If they did they could've EASILY fixed bonnie up.

Ruin happens during Cassie's birthday.

Gregory left Cassie, but I don't think he necessarily broke the elevator, if he did it would've been from a distance or by using some bot under his control since he IS patient 46 and a hacker according the the VERY CANON books.

The mimic didn't drop the elevator and wasn't the one talking through the speakers, it literally tossed away its communicater before the chase began and LOST AN ARM, which would've still been RIGHT NEXT to Cassie when she dropped.

Vanessa/Vanny is the friend Gregory was talking about, when he says his friends name the communicator garbles, which would happen if all her other hacked things were in place still. Her ar systems are still around, so it makes sense her name wouldn't come through on fazbear tech, especially after leaving. Plus what else fazbear couldn't notice her, specifically when in aftons control? The robots and security systems.

With vanny gone afton sort of just died out in the old pizza place with no reach with his virus and the mimic prowling around.

I'm done with headcanons now... I'm just.. I'm tired of people not using their brains, like Gregory in base game didn't need to dismantle anyone, he could've left instead of gone into Freddy's chest, he could've stayed with Fred in his room til 6am after missing the final lockdown, he could've stayed with sun, or told sun freddy was waiting outside, something. But no he destroyed these hulking animatronics cause he "was in survival mode" he took their upgrade and put them in Freddy, even refusing to tell him what was going on (freddy you dense motherf--). And now with the newest book out telling us he's a killer of, at minimum, 4 people. Could he be controlled by something at that time? Sure, probably, but we don't know. He wrongfully destroyed the animatronics who didn't do anything to him except what they were told, get a runaway kid, were they infected with a killing virus? Yes. Would he have known that at the beginning? Probably not, he didn't know til LATE into the game, after breaking Chica or Monty.

Im not gonna lie, gregory is the character I hate the most in this franchise, I hate him more than I do any variant of balloon boy/girl. I'd rather play the nightmare balloon boy game for an hour than play sb base game, and nightmare bb gives me nightmares.

Also if it's been like a year since the place broke down Gregory would NOT be so close to the plex to worry about being followed "oh but his communicator!!" Yeah if we go with him having to be in range for that then he'd be close enough to break the elevator, so pick a lane and shut up.

This has been my ruin dlc commentary and gregory hate post.

[hollowslantern]

hi i know I could google it but you're passionate so I thoight it'd be fun to ask you, what's xenoblade chronicles? and what would u tell someone who knows nothing of that media to get them interested? ^_^

Xenoblade Chronicles is a series of jrpgs. there are currently 4 main games, but I haven't played Xenoblade Chronicles X, so that one is a mystery to both of us and im going to pretend it doesnt exist. the games are known for their vast open worlds in unique settings, their unique gameplay (<- horribly complicated battle mechanics), and the fact that each game is separate from the other, making them playable in any order* (*terms and conditions apply. the ending of 2 spoils the ending of 1, and I'm currently unsure of how 3 fits in so all bets are off on it). all the games have themes of or relating to war is hell, building your own future, and friendship is magic.

Xenoblade 1 takes place here:

on top the Bionis and the Mechonis, two colossal warriors who died fighting each other, locked eternally in combat. the inhabitants of the Bionis, scattered in colonies across it, are constantly under attack by the Mechon, a robotic species that kills them for unknown reasons.

the story follows Shulk, a 17 year old boy, as he seeks revenge on the mechon who attacked his colony, aided by his friends and by the strange visions that have begun to plague him ever since he took ownership of the Monado, a sword that responds only to him...

Xenoblade 2 takes place across a series of living beings called Titans. they make their home in the Cloud Sea, a giant body of water (and cloud) that covers the surface of the entire world. the titans are slowly dying off, causing war to break out as countries fight over the dwindling land. and there's also the world tree

legend has it that god lives at the top of it in a beautiful paradise called Elysium ^

the story follows rex, a 15 year old salvager who dreams of climbing the world tree, proving Elysium is real, and saving everyone by having them live up there instead. after taking on a salvaging job too good to refuse, and getting stabbed in the back in a very literal way, rex becomes the Driver of a legendary Blade (a sort of living battle partner who gives their counterpart a cool weapon to beat people with and the rest would take to long to explain). the Blade, named Pyra, tells him she will give him half of her life if he will take her to her home, Elysium.

xenoblade 3 I know the least about, obviously, BUT.

it takes place on aionios, and the inhabitants are split into two factions: Keves and Agnus. each faction fights to maintain their Flame Clock, a gauge of their own life force, that dwindles with time and grows with the flames they steal from others. thus, a war that can never end. each person lives only 10 years¹, and has a mark on their body counting down until their death. they exist only to fight, and to fight well enough to live through their 10th term and recieve the most honorable death: a ceremony called Homecoming, where they die in front of their Queen.

the story follows 3 kevesi soldiers, and 3 agnian soldiers, who were sent to investigate an anomaly that [spoilers] and severs their connection to their flame clocks, ending the necessity for them to kill. as a result the 6 were labeled as deserters, and team up to travel to Swordmarch, a place they were told could stop them from dying when their 10 terms are up.

it's definitely not a series for everyone, and it's NOT without flaws (2 has a lot of weird bullshit fanservice and shit in it that i try to block out of my memory), but i like it a lot. if i was pitching it to someone it would probably depend on who i was pitching it TO, and what they like in a game. BUT i think if you like real-time strategy combat (is that the term im looking for?), and open worlds (cannot stress enough the open worldness of these games), and beautiful jawdropping landscapes, and fucking crazy plots, and characters that love each other so much they'll rewrite fate, and stories about finding or making a purpose in life... you might enjoy xenoblade :)

this is reyn he's from xenoblade 1 he's a little bit stupid hes been protecting shulk (wet idiot nerd) since they were kids and we love him.

[narabea06]

Warning: Spoilers for TheFamousFilms/InvisibleDavisStudios/Kainabunny FNAF series/universe

TW: Abuse, Bullying,, Manipulation, Charlie-, Death

I AM GOING TO RAMBLE ABOUT MIA THE MOUSE AND YOU ALL ARE GOING TO LISTEN! /lh

Anyway, just to help the people who don't know much about this series, Mia is a sentient mouse animatronic who is owned by a man named Davis and his gf Kat, and works at a restaurant named the Barnyard Bash. That's the general knowledge you need to know-

Now, my argument: Mia is the most underrated character and has gone through so much sh*t that is never acknowledged by anyone-

Okay, let's start off with the fact she is constantly terrorized by Charlie (AKA a cat animatronic she has to work with) who has chased her around the restaurant threatening to hurt her, almost stabbed her with a knife, almost shot her with a gun, consistently manipulates her and drags her into trouble, yells at her all the time, punches her, belittles her, generally bullies her- THE LIST GOES ON-

And Mia has a very hard time standing up to him and really wants to stand up for herself but she just can't, bc usually that just leads to Charlie getting more upset and messing with her more. And what do c!Davis and c!Kat do? F**king nothing other than telling Charlie to knock it off and telling Mia to stand up to him.

Not to mention the fact that c!Davis and c!Kat also belittle Mia and say a lot of passive aggressive sh*t about her and constantly make jokes against her. Barely anyone talks to or about Mia in a positive light beside Vanny (a bunny animatronic who used to be at the establishment), c!Bryan and c!Dylan (friends of c!Davis), Gomez (goat animatronic), and Lassy (dog animatronic), and even with those five people, she only talks to two of them on a daily basis, and another one of those people is basically dead.

Mia is constantly surrounded by people who look down on her and she never treated with respect or like a human even tho she constantly tries her best.

For weeks, she was the one to take care of the pizzeria bc c!Kat and c!Davis were gone for awhile on vacation, and constantly cleans up everything and makes sure everything's in working order before she even thinks to charge herself, and they never say thank you or even acknowledge it. Mia tries, and when c!Davis and c!Kat got back, c!Davis literally called her the most under qualified person hes ever met.

Anyway, back to Mia's trauma.

_____________

Here's a few things she's gone through so far:

- She's constantly blamed for her own code bc c!Davis coded her to be scared and cowardly and clumsy all the time, and she literally tells him he should change it and he refuses, but then complains about her being these traits and not standing up for herself.

- c!Davis and c!Kat are verbally abusive to her and the other animatronics. Like- I love them, they're great characters, but they can be just terrible to the animatronics. Once c!Davis was having a break down and Vanny, Charlie, Gomez, and Mia ran in asking if he was okay and he screamed at them to get tf out. Terrified, the four hid in the bathrooms scared that c!Davis was so upset he would kill them or scrap them. Finally, they ended up calling c!Kat bc they didn't know wtf to do, and that was basically the only reason that c!Davis calmed down. That's just one example, lemme grab another one-

- Once, Mia and Charlie snuck out bc they needed to talk to Molten (another character in the series) and went to c!Bryan's park. They managed to get back before c!Davis and c!Kat got back, and they still noticed the door was unlocked and said they needed to interrogate the animatronics on who snuck out. All the animatronics knew that Mia would break super fast and started threatening her to not say anything (mostly Charlie), and immediately, c!Davis and c!Kat decided to interrogate Mia first, trying to play the good cop, bad cop strategy with c!Kat being the good cop and c!Davis being the the bad cop. This ended with them both screaming at Mia to tell them, Mia having a breakdown, c!Davis threatening Mia with a hammer (it was a rubber hammer but Mia didn't know that and thought is was real), and c!Kat trying to manipulate Mia into telling them by saying that either Mia brought this upon herself or saying that she would tell c!Davis to stop if she just told them. Mia ended up finally telling them at the end, tho i will say that while they interrogated her, they also changed her voice settings so she was stuck speaking Spanish, chased her through the pizzeria, and then dragged her back to the room they were interrogating her in.

- Mia isn't good with yelling, loud noises, or fighting, and at one point Vanny and Charlie started having fights every single day with her stuck in between them, so she wasn't doing the greatest during those times, especially when Vanny or Charlie dragged her into their arguments.

- On the subject on Vanny, lets talk about her and Mia's friendship. Vanny started out super sweet and innocent and Mia constantly tried to be there for her and the two became friends, especially when Vanny and Charlie started fighting, bc Vanny started to even stand up for Mia, and even once snuck out with Mia to go hang out together and get Vanny some bows for her ears. Mia even said she felt way more confident around Vanny. Then Vanny got possessed by Valerie and was slowly glitch out, until eventually Vanny suggested that she was factory reset so that she could "get rid of the bug". Mia was heartbroken bc she realized that would make Vanny forget everything, but Vanny decided to do it anyway saying that they'd make new memories. By the time Vanny was reset tho, all of Vanny's personality was gone and all that was left was Valerie. Valerie proceeded to say terrible things to Mia and Charlie whenever she interacted with them and even possibly broke Gomez, who was basically Mia and Charlie's only other friend, and basically made it where he was stuck constantly in a robotic stage mode. Valerie also got Charlie and Mia in trouble all the time by pretending to the victim when she bullied Charlie and Mia and pinned it on them when c!Kat and c!Davis were around. Finding it hard to stay with Valerie anymore, Charlie and Mia tried to set her on fire- Ill admit, not the best move, but whatever. c!Kat and c!Davis were pissed and fixed Vanny and set her to another location, and Charlie and Mia hated that idea and still wanted the possibility of Vanny coming back, but c!Davis and c!Kat thought they just wanted to hurt her more and didn't listen. Even now, when its months after Vanny left, Mia still misses her and constantly talks about how she misses her and wants to have a friend again.

- Anyway, moving on to what happened to Gomez. When Gomez was broken, she tried everything to get him back and felt terrible about what happened. Then when they moved to a new location (the whole restaurant was moved a little after the fire incident with Vanny), Gomez once followed her when she was having a night to herself and told her she needed to fix him and told her that the robotic voice he had wasn't his and it scared him, and started holding onto her while glitching out before completing shutting down. Then, according to Mia, this happened a lot- Eventually Gomez finally went back to his old self, but every time he glitched, Mia was terrified and started panicking.

- Now on to Lassy. When they first got her, Charlie told Mia she would just be like Vanny, and Mia told him she wouldn't, and to prove it tried hanging out with her. But the thing is, Mia is a quiet introvert. She prefers quiet slow paced stuff and likes having time where she doesn't have to deal with Charlie or the loud noises of everything. Then, there's Lassy who's very loud, energetic, extravorted, clingy, and kinda a dumba**, and immediately clings to Mia. Mia does not exactly like hanging out with Bessy, but still tries to tho it ends up Mia trying so hard to find someone to replace Vanny. Mia even admits that she finds Lassy nice but finds it hard to get attached bc she cant connect with her.

- Bonus thing: Halloween. Basically Gomez was dressed as a ghost and kept messing with her, as Charlie gaslit her into thinking that she was seeing sh*t. Actually hell, we dont even know whether he gaslit her or if she was actually hallucinating, or if that episode wasn't even canon. Its just there, Mia ended up having a breakdown, Lassy was confused-

- Then theres the fact that when c!Bryan died, Mia had to be the one to tell c!Davis after being threatened by Molten not to tell anyone.

- Then theres when she went to go tell c!Dylan about Valerie, she got told he went missing and was possibly dead.

- But then there's the time when Charlie and Mia ran away for a week after they were threatened to be reset-

_____________

In summary, Mia was gone through so much sh*t, and she should be a more popular character, and i love her-

[dlscordia]

〖 CHACE CRAWFORD. CIS MAN. HE/HIM. ┇ that's MICHAEL, a ORIGINAL VAMPIRE that just blew out TWENTY-FOUR (  1000+ ) candles on their last birthday cake. i heard them listening to VAMPIRE SMILE BY KYLA LA GRANGE the other day.  rumor on the street is that HE sides with the VOLTURI in this time of war. fortunately they will be able to defend themselves with sound absorption .they remind me of WILTING RED ROSES ENGULFED BY FLAMES, THE SOUND OF THE WIND WHISTLING OUTSIDE YOUR WINDOW AT NIGHT, CROOKED TALONS REACHING FROM THE BOTTOM OF A WELL, DROPS OF FRESH BLOOD ON PALE SNOW, THE COLD KISS OF A SCORNED LOVER.

tw: salty man is salty, blood, death, drowning, murder

Was turned way too long ago to keep track, his last human memory (although he’ll avidly deny it) is sinking to the bottom of the ocean, and slowly feeling his limbs going numb. Needless to say he’s been avoiding large bodies of water since, although he does know how to swim, he’d rather avoid those painful memories

Can’t cope very well with human emotions, but beneath his nonchalant exterior, he does feel things intensely. Michael doesn’t think emotions are weakness like a lot of his kin, but rather that’s what makes humans so intriguing. He’s very curious and although he’s long detached himself from humanity, he always finds himself gravitating towards it

Born to a wealthy family, Michael wasn’t always a monster --- he still remembers his days in the sun, laying down amidst the flowers with wild, guilless eyes aimed up at the heavens. If he were being honest, there are still days when he misses these days

Not a lot is known about him, it seems as though history has long forgotten the Androshchuk name and left him alone with the burden of carrying it---or Michael went through a lot of effort to bury it so deep nobody could ever find a shred of evidence he was, in fact, merely mortal one day too.

Was deeply in love with a witch over millennia ago, she was his first (and only) love till this day, or so he claims, until he found out she supposedly using him to achieve her own goals and (literally) got stabbed in the back and thrown overboard. He died in more ways than one that day, and vowed to get revenge on all her bloodline since he was revived

He did just that --- spent the next centuries hunting down and wiping off her surname from history, although he could never get his hands on her, he made sure all her descendants went through hell like he did that night

Has a very warped view of love since, and for a long time refused to ever trust anyone again. Then he found the Volturi which--- to his surprise, feel strangely familiar. It has never been about power to Michael, he’s always seen them as a strange kind of found family, and although his loyalties remain with himself, he’s found life is lonely when you walk its path alone, and he’d rather have them by his side

Mischievous and borderline cruel at times, Michael is volatile at best, and sadistic at worst. Easily persuaded and distractible, his attention-span is extremely fickle, think golfish. He’s interested in something one minute, and the next it’s been completely erased from his mind. He will grow bored easily if things take a predictable turn. 

Extremly selfish and narrow-minded, he cares more about himself than he ever will anybody else. Ever since he was betrayed he refuses to emotionally open up to people and decided to become a pile of salt instead

Genuinely thinks he’s just that great tm ,   which doesn’t stop him from being an insecure mess when he catches feelings.

Absolutely refuses to be a useful member of the Volturi unless absolutely necessary. He’ll only waste his time if he thinks what is happening is genuinely serious and not another ego dispute.

Craves to be constantly surprised, regardless of how positively or negatively he is affected by it,  of course, this sets unrealistic expectation, and causes him to constantly leave everything behind once he’s gotten close enough to figure out how that specific thing works and what makes it tick. 

Accustomed to use his charm instead of brute force to get what he wants, Michael is known to have a high level of influence in others, not just humans but supernatural, and to be very charismatic, and partly due to his own personal belief that people will do much more out of love than fear and his chameleon like ability to project what people want to see.

On that note, as patient and calm as he appears, Michael is far from... as gentle as he portrays himself to be. If you’re looking for someone lenient to plead your case, things will most likely go south. Treacherous by nature, his cruelty doesn’t often manifest through loud shouting or unfiltered rage, but rather a more subtle, silent approach. Not unlike that of a cat that chases and tosses its wounded prey around without mercy for pure entertainment.

[arcxnumvitae]

★ fill in the questions as if you are being interviewed for an article and you were your muse.

TAGGED BY:  Stole it

TAGGING: Steal it

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

A:  Camhlaidh Moireasdan

R:  Ruaidhri Allanach

E:  Eilidh Deòireach

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?

R: You’ll have to try harder than that if you wish to pry a fae’s true name from them

E: Generally, we don’t share them with anyone

A: My parents shared theirs with each other actually

R: How romantic

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT?

A: ‘Relic’

R: ‘Red king’

E: ‘Radiant one’

R: That was awfully poetic of your parents, hm?

E: I never did ask them why they decided to name me that

A: Probably because even as a newborn they could sense your bright and luminous spirit

E: That about a smooth-talker!

R: I didn’t think that you had it in you, my liege!

A: Not really...

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?

A:...

R:...

E: Yeesh, what an oppressive air all of a sudden. As for me, I am married but I’ve run away from my husband!

A: Do you have to sound so blasé when announcing that?

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES?

R: Our king here has an intimate--

A: Don’t say it like that

R: --connection with the land of Seelie. He can manipulate the land as he sees fit, and he quite literally can see all.  And to my understanding, you can even interact with the flora of the mortal world, yes?

A: I could, and they were drawn to me as well. Even without my memories that connection still remained. There are also some things passed down through my bloodline, but to explain them would take some time.

E: I have my ability gained through Bryony and the vampire clans!

R: And then, of course, we all have the ability to glamour others. Plus, I would like to count my raw sexual charisma as a force of its own--

E: It isn’t.

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?

A: Red and gold

E: Either incredibly good luck or incredibly bad luck, depending on who you ask and how superstitious they are!

R: Though as of late, the gossip of Seelie have come to see our king’s eyes as a sign of disastrous luck

A: Thank you for that

R: *waves hand* You already know I don’t put any stock in things like that

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR?

All: No

R: Why mess with perfection? Plus, I wouldn’t want to make the flowers wilt

A: Our true hair colors are an abundance of shades already

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?

All:...

E: I have my parents, and that’s all

R: Not even your husband, I can feel poor Aodh’s stab of pain from here. Good. As for me, just my father. 

A: My mother...passed when I was younger, and my father as well recently. I have my younger sister Tara but...

R and E: ...

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?

E: Does Aodh count as an unwanted one

R: Goodness, dear, quite the venom you’re spewing today--

E, smiling: Careful or I mention the mortal

R: !!

A: Eilidh is someone whose bad side you do not want to get on

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE.

E: Clingy people, people who refuse to try and understand you

R: Duty

A: Also duty...

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?

R: Decorating, shopping, finding new mortals to toy with--

A: *clears throat*

R: The last of which I have not engaged in quite some time as per the orders of our new king

E: Yes, just the orders of the king, and no one else. As for me, I like people watching and also teasing easy to mess with people!

A: Reading books, stargazing, wandering around. Though free time has not been in abundance as of late

R: Ah, the life of a newly crowned king

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?

A: Yes. During my years with the Bastion of the Veil, saving some people entailed hurting others

R: You’ll have to tell us more of your time with that group over tea someday

A: Maybe. It wasn’t anything special.

E: ‘Maybe’? I think you may be underselling things, Your Highness

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?

A: Yes

R and E: No

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?

E: Riri’s obviously a snake! I mean, you have the eyes and the tongue!

R: Mm, you didn’t have to say it quite so quickly though... 

A: Eilidh is a fox, deceptively playful but cunning when she wants to be

R: And the king is...a stag I would say. One who fittingly leads the herd

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS.

E: Riri is incredibly self-absorbed, a little bit stupid, very useless, barely able to take care of himself--

R: This is feeling very targeted now!

E: I’m not done yet

R: You’ve said enough

A: ...Anyways, I have a tendency to be pessimistic and Eilidh here can be incredibly scatter-brained. And perhaps too blunt 

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE?

R: *snorts* certainly not any parent

E: Mm, I can’t think of anyone either

A: My mother

E: Aww

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?

A: I don’t know?

R: Ach, those odd labels. I like everything and have no particular preference when it comes to a partner

E: It’s the same for me as well

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?

R: I believe we all received tutelage from private tutors and the like

E: Some lessons were held with other gentry around our age, Riri though was a bit too old to be with us at that point. Still, those had the underlying purpose of beginning the marriage process and discussions. Not long after those was when Aodh’s parents first approached mine after all. 

A: How odd, despite how much the gentry intermingle with each other, you would think we would have had a singular schooling system set up

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY?

A: ‘Want’...

R: As if our positions allow us the luxury of deciding what we ‘want’ or not. Our families had us for a singular purpose, to carry on the family line and bring whatever honor to it that we can

E: We don’t get to make the decisions about whether we want marriage or want to start families, that’s simply how it is for the gentry

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?

A: Failing

R: Being trapped

E: Imprisonment

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?

A: Whatever clothing the tailors have made and is set out for me that day. Of course I have some say in the material, color, and things of the like. Compared to some other fae I suppose my taste is somewhat conservative

R:  Whatever fits my stunning visage the best and makes me catch the attention of the whole room

E: I like whatever accentuates my breasts and legs the most

R: I adore your candor

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

A: ...

R: ...

E: Again, a harsh question! What a complicated matter love is, especially for fae

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?

All: High

R: With the king a step above even that of course

E: “Status” isn’t generally something among the fae, but the gentry are the exception, our family histories span back an incredibly long amount of time

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?

E: Well there’s Celeste and Alastair and some people from the Japanese clans...

R: I have plenty I know in the Seelie court as well

A: ...

E: Heavy is the head and all

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?

E: That mortal thing but its made with fruit?

R: It’s okay

A: Yes, it’s fine I suppose.  

27. FAVORITE DRINK?

E: Pomegranate juice

R: Wine

A: Water infused with fruits

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE?

R: Mikael’s apartment...

E: Hm, I don’t have one

A: Either the roof of the castle or the meadows and forests surrounding it

R: Sometimes I truly believe you were meant to be one of the wild and wandering fae of Seelie rather than anchored to its throne

A: How characteristically astute of you

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?

A: ...

R: ...

E: Third time’s the charm! Rough go for you two, huh? As for me, I’m interested in a lot of different people

A: You are definitely deliberately misinterpreting the question 

31. WHAT’S YOUR DICK SIZE?

A: I will not be announcing--!

R: What’s the point in shame, Your Highness? It’s not a secret we have genitalia! I am the proud owner of a glorious seven inches when erect!

A:  Clag Deireadh...

E: I don’t have one but I am a fan!

32. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?

A: Lake

E: Ocean

R: Can I say neither

33. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’?

A: Someone who I could spend time with and we don’t even have to speak. Someone who I can be myself around, whatever that entails

R: And if she has green eyes and belongs to a vampire clan, all the better

A: Ruaidhri here turns out to be a rather large fan of strong, endearingly sweet, and scruffy humans. Who knew.

E: Oh, I think Riri’s blushing! 

34. ANY FETISHES?

A: *groans* I don’t know

R: Now that the killjoy is out of the way, I like being manhandled, a bit of sadism giving or taking, being pampered as I deserve--

E: And I think restraining a partner can be fun. Honestly, I think I’m fond of most things that put me in control over a partner.

35. TOP OR BOTTOM? DOMINANT OR SUBMISSIVE?

R: I believe we’ve lost the king

A: I simply don’t know, I’ve never laid with another person

R: Despite my best efforts

A: What was that?

R: I prefer being on the bottom! But sometimes I get in the mood to bully top my partner

E: He’s what I hear mortals call a “pillow princess”. I suppose I like bottoming but still being in some control. But I won’t complain otherwise.

36. CAMPING, OR INDOORS?

A: Camping

R and E: Indoors

37. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER?

A: I honestly cannot say that this was enjoyable

E: Oh lighten up

R: It did have its ups and downs 

[the-royal-petals]

Welcome to HYDRA -- Stranger Things x Marvel Crossover || Chapter 2 - Work Your Life Away

Summary: Keira learns the name of the American and they realise that they share more common ground than they thought.

Warnings: None

[ Chapter 1 ] - [ Current Chapter ] - [ Chapter 3 ] - [ Chapter 4 ] - [ Chapter 5 ]

To make sure the prisoners were put to good use, HYDRA forces them to work outside in the rotten snow. Their jobs are to create more tracks for the local train system; the majority of the day is hammering and laying down the tracks, trying to not freeze to death in the arctic winter of Northern Russia. Nobody truly knew where they were as every time a prisoner is introduced to the camp, they’d be sedated. The only people who truly knew were a select few guards.

When she was first here, she attempted to gather as much information about the base as possible; she’d astral project around the base, looking through files and over agent’s shoulders. It was only when they caught her did she almost lose her life. They forced her into an interrogation, threatening to kill the entire camp if she didn’t cough up the information. 

Torture was something all SHIELD agents are accustomed to; having being trained for it. It was always said that to never mention any SHIELD secrets and you must give your life for the organisation. This was a belief she once followed when she was a loyal agent all of those years ago; but now, she couldn’t care less. She has a better family now

Instead of asking her questions about SHIELD this time, it was questions about the sorcerers — now this was something she would give her life for.

They were the only group HYDRA didn’t know much about. Keira swore to make sure it stayed that way. 

As the guard led the group outside, Keira limped beside the American, keeping her hand out in front of her, ready to grab his arm if she took the wrong step. It felt like her body was literal hell; fire burned within, stabbing pain shot through her body with every step she made. With a flick of her hand, she summoned a dim gentle glow of orange to her ankle and side, letting it take away a slither of her pain. 

She couldn’t lie that she used magic to keep herself going throughout her stay. It was the only thing that kept her alive. 

Either side of the prisoners were metal fencing. Snow coated the ground around them, footprints walked around the camp, leading into locked doors and other restricted compartments. The line stopped at a door where every prisoner is told to stand on a box to check their restraints. Keira was the only person without restraints, only because they knew she couldn’t get anywhere if she tried. 

She watched the American stand on the box. The guard tugged at the chains before waving him off. He glanced back at Keira, giving her a concerned look as she stepped onto the box, wincing. 

“Где твои цепи?” ( Where are your chains? ) The guard asked her, peering up with a glare that dug into her soul.

Keira gulped, taking in a deep breath to compose herself. “Твой друг снял их. Я слишком слаб, чтобы бежать. Ты сказал это мне” ( Your friend took them off. I'm too weak to run. You said it to me )

The guard glanced at another guard, they gave them a slow nod. “If you are planning escape, you die.” Their Russian accent came through thick. They pointed to the door, letting Keira leave. 

It wasn’t like Keira wasn’t used to being threatened. 

Eventually, the guards lined everybody up outside. The guards handed out sledgehammers, letting the group get to work. Keira wore a thick winter jacket over the top of her SHIELD one she refused to remove. Half of her face was covered with a scarf, leaving the majority of her face uncovered to freeze. 

Clanking of metal echoed throughout the air, stretching from the station terminal to the end of the track that stopped to a halt. Keira rose her sledgehammer over her head and plummeted it onto a bolt, hammering it into the wood. She felt her muscles ache every time she raised her hammer, letting it fall, using those precious few moments to relax.

Her strength HYDRA had given her was beneficial for certain things, but it wasn’t the same as endurance—that was something she wasn’t the best at. As she didn’t always need it with the Mystic Arts. 

From behind, the American switched places with a Russian, his face came into her view, causing her to look over at him.

“The name’s Hopper.” He introduced himself, reaching out a hand to shake her own. His hammer rested next to him. 

“Keira.” She shook his hand for a moment, glancing over at the guards, “what do you want?” 

“That’s a bit rude.” He mock-gasped, “of all people in this base, you are the only female here. How did you get on HYDRA’s radar enough for them to want to capture you?” Hopper asked, raising his hammer again. 

She knew this question was going to come up at some point. “I’m a part-time SHIELD agent. Went into the wrong place at the wrong time; they got me for information. Is that enough to satisfy you?” Keira’s tone came off harsh, her words were deep-rooted and filled with an anger only explained by stress. “What about you?”

If he was going to ask questions, then why can’t she? Two can play this game, right?

Hopper glanced at her. “You wouldn’t believe me.” He said, watching her expression shift to amused. “What?”

“You’re telling that to an ex-SHIELD agent. Try me.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m the police chief of a town named Hawkings; we ran into issues with the Russians operating in our local area. They ended up capturing me and here I am. The rest is complicated.” As he spoke, his eye-contact drifted away from them, slipping back to the hammer.

Keira slowly nodded. There was only half of that she believed. Where had she heard the name, ‘Hawkings’ before? Didn’t those kids mention that name? Keira glanced around, scanning the area for the guards’ movements. 

“I quite believe that. But, you’re leaving something out. Russians don’t appear in some places randomly.” Keira carefully spoke. Hopper stopped hammering.

“You wouldn’t understand. I don’t think you will.” 

Oh now he was definitely pushing her buttons. She glanced around and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards her. Keira pulled him away from the track to a nearby shack that no guards occupied. Hopper pulled away his arm and glared at her.

“What the hell was that for?!”

Keira pushed open the door and yanked him inside. “Mate. I work with people who deal with weird and wacky shit. If I told you everything my group deals with, you’d run away in terror; you wouldn’t want to be associated with me. So listen, I work for a group called the Masters of the Mystic Arts; or sorcerers as they are usually referred to.” She explained, he seemed more interested this time. 

“I was sent here to investigate a mystical threat that we have never seen before. I ran into a group of kids who were attempting to stop it, but it led to them being captured. I had a choice to risk my own life, or risk theirs. I rescued them.” She continued, “they mentioned they are from a town named Hawkings. . . so I assume you probably know them.” 

Hopper’s face dropped. This was one hell of a gut punch. He let out a prolonged sigh, the doubt left his mind. “Wow. . . “ he rubbed his face, “so that’s how you’ve held out so long.” He concluded, looking at the bloody marks on her clothing. “Wait. . . how are you walking?”

“Magic.” Keira raised her hands, “I’m serious. I’m using magic to numb the pain. It takes a lot of energy out of me, but I. . . I need to get out of here and get back home. I need backup to stop that threat.” She reached out and set her hand on his arm, “please, to save me the trouble; tell me what you know.” 

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