#i think i'll consider it concluded after the next part

[solarplanet2]

Which one is in Danger?

Part 2

DCxDP Prompt/Drabbles

Part 1

"We have your son."

Bruce was expecting a very normal day. If you consider having to deal with the chaos of his children and being a vigilante at night as normal.

But nonetheless, a very simple day of his normal routine and once a week dinner with his family.

Only to be broken by a phone call by someone stating that his son has been kidnapped.

Bruce didn't answer right away, he was mentally counting his sons who, are all counted for, are on the dinner table.

"Which one?" Bruce eyed each of his sons and counted them again just to be sure.

"Timothy Drake-Wayne."

Bruce immediately eyed Tim who was sitting in between Jason and Cass.

Tim's here.

Then who's the one being kidnapped?

"Bruce?" Dick spoke up, thinking that something was wrong the way Bruce was looking at all of them.

Bruce slightly waved at Dick, telling him to calm down first. "What do you want?"

Dick's question seemed to catch everyone's attention since they were all looking at Bruce now.

"Two Million. Or he gets it."

A standard threat. The kind he was expecting.

"Can I speak to my son?" This earned confused looks of his children and Bruce waved them off gesturing that it was not what they were thinking about.

"Alright kid," The kidnapper from the other said grunted, almost sounding smug. "Say hello to Daddy."

Bruce could hear heavy breathing, almost sounding like a grunt. It made Bruce slightly worried. "...Tim?" Bruce decided to speak first. "Tim, Are you okay?" And Bruce hopes that he is.

A soft grunt responded. "Hi." A croaked voice managed to respond. It sounded young. And was punched in the stomach. He should know, almost all of his children had experienced that way.

"Don't worry, chum. I'm getting you out of there." Bruce tried reassuring the kid, worried about what they might do to him. Because this isn't Tim. Tim is right across from him and these kidnappers basically had kidnapped the wrong person.

He gestured to his children, a familiar gesture, for them to head to the cave and suit up. They quickly followed, not without worried glances and confused glances at Bruce's way.

"No.." The kid had said, choked out which made Bruce paused on his step in confusion. It caught his children's attention, stopping as well.

"Uhm...Dad? I'll be fine."

Bruce believed that, for some reason, but it didn't stop his worry. But the next words from the boy made him blink

"Please give me your permission."

"....To what?" Bruce asked confusingly. Permission to what?

"To hurt."

Bruce has raised enough children to know enough about silent words in some part of the sentences without right out saying it.

To hurt them.

The kid is asking permission to hurt his kidnappers.

Bruce should say no and wait for help. Should be saying that help is on the way.

Bruce should say that he'll come and save him.

Now, Bruce doesn't normally follow his gut. It causes too much mystery and had no explanation to either it would be a good thing or a bad thing.

But right now, for once, Bruce would agree with his gut.

"....Alright."

Static came in the phone, like it was losing signal but he could clearly hear the boy voice coming out like an echo.

"Good."

"What the-- AAAHHH!!!"

Beeeepppp

Bruce blinked as he looked down at his phone after the call ended.

.....Should he have not give him permission?

"B? What's wrong? Did something happen?" Dick asked, increasingly worried now as he saw Bruce staring at his phone.

"....Suit up." Bruce concluded. They should find the boy as quickly as possible. "And call an ambulance."

Bruce could see the confused look at everyone's faces as he walked passed them.

"Wait, B!" Duke had spoke up running after Bruce with his siblings. "Was someone hurt? Is it another gang fight?"

"No. The ambulance is for the kidnappers."

".....What??"

: )

Parts: Part 1

[l1tw1ck]

Newlyweds

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!male reader

🕷️Word Count: 1,947🕷️

[Part One] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Menstruation (No Period Sex), Lingerie, Dom/Sub, Daddy Kink, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Impregnating, Mating Press, Lactation Mention, Praise Kink

Miguel wakes up with pain. A lot of pain. Along with discomfort and the familiar feeling and smell of blood. Of course he starts his period unexpectedly in your bed. Not only that but he has cramps and a hangover. Great way to start the morning. He hopes you at least have advil. He taps your shoulder and wakes you up.

“What's wrong?” You ask, noticing that it's still pretty early in the morning.

“I’m on my period.” He frowns. “Sorry…about your sheets.”

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault. Do you need anything? Food, meds, something hot?” You get out of the bed. Miguel shakily gets out as well.

“A shower would be nice…and some ibuprofen? Or advil?”

“No problem. Luckily for you, I have some pads or tampons you can use. I keep them for when family visits. Do you use a heating pad? I have one of those too.”

“Yeah, a heating pad would be helpful.” He nods. “I prefer pads.”

“Okay, go ahead and get in the shower, I’ll leave some clothes out for you to wear. Oh, and you’ll need to eat something too. Is there anything you prefer?”

“Whatever you can make is fine.”

“Alright, I'll get everything you need. Take as long as you want in the shower.”

.....

Miguel gets out of the shower and walks into your room. The bed is stripped and the bloody parts are being soaked in a cleaning mixture. He hopes he didn't ruin your mattress. He looks at the pair of boxers you left for him and frowns. It's no surprise that you don't have any panties, why would you? But wearing pads with boxers isn't very….safe. It's a good thing the two of you are neighbors, he’ll have to ask you to get him a pair of underwear. He pulls up the boxers half way and applies the pad, praying that it’ll do the job, and pulls it up completely. He puts on your shirt, happy that it's big on him, and puts on the pair of shorts.

He walks down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hey..”

“Hey! There’s the meds.” You point to the bottle of ibuprofen and cup of water next to it. “I’m making pancakes. How do you like ‘em?”

“With butter and syrup.” Miguel looks at the medicine bottle and concludes that he’ll thankfully only have to take one. He hates taking pain medication because of the risks but they're unbelievably helpful. He sighs, putting a pill in his mouth and swallowing it with water.

“...Hey, at least you're not pregnant yet.” You smile sheepishly.

Miguel chuckles. “We should probably start planning for when I actually am pregnant.”

“Yeah…I’ll have to start packing my things soon, right? I don't want Gabriella to have to worry about moving her stuff here.”

He appreciates how you consider his daughter too. “That’d be the best way.”

“At least we're neighbors, that’ll make the process much easier.”

“That reminds me…can you…can you go to my house and get me a pair of panties? They're specifically made for periods…I have a box of period stuff in my closet, you’ll know it when you see it. I’d go myself but-”

“Don't worry about it, babe. I’ll get it for you. After you eat, you can go lay down in the guest bedroom, I already put the heating pad in there. If you want, I’ll pick Gabi up and bring her here.”

“Please. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You kiss his forehead.

Gabi walks up to your car, confused. “Why are you picking me up?”

“Your dad’s feeling sick so he asked me to come get you.”

“Oh. Is papá okay?”

“Yeah, he's fine. He’s just on his period.” You nod. “Come on, get in.”

Gabriella grimaces, feeling bad for her dad. She gets into the backseat and buckles her seatbelt.

“So…What do you think about coming to my place and eating dinner with me and your dad?”

Gabriella grins. “Are you gonna cook?”

“Of course! Whatever you want.”

“Then…Can you make burgers? I haven't had a burger in soo long! Papá sucks at cooking and he thinks fast food burgers are made of rat meat!”

You laugh. “Sure thing. What kind of burger? And do you want fries too? I can make ‘em from scratch.”

Her eyes widen. “Really? I love fries! And I really wanna try a bacon cheeseburger!”

“You got it, Gabi.”

“You’re so good at cooking! I wish Papà could cook like you.” Gabriella wipes her face clean.

“Hey! I can cook just fine, Gabi!”

“Then how come we had to order takeout the other night because you made green goop?”

“Green goop?” You look at Miguel, grinning.

“It was supposed to be green, okay?!”

“Mhm~” You hum in a sarcastic tone. “Maybe I need to save Gabi from your horrible cooking.”

“Please! You guys should get married. Then you can cook us dinner all the time!”

You look at Miguel.

Miguel looks at you and nods. “Well…Actually, mija…”

She looks at him curiously.

“We are getting married.” He can't hide his happiness.

Her entire face lights up. “Really?!” She puts her game down and stands up. “Am I really gonna get an hermanito now?!”

“Yes, mija.” Miguel chuckles.

“When are you gonna order them?!”

“...Order?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You know, go to the stork postal service and order a baby!”

You and Miguel look at her, dumbfounded.

“What?” She frowns.

“Mija…We need to teach you where babies really come from..”

After the horrifying explanation (which was actually very tame compared to the talk Miguel’s parents gave him), Gabriella accepted the fact that babies are in fact not delivered by storks. Miguel doesn't even know where she got that from.

Now she's started to see you as the second father you’ll soon become. Rather than using your name, she calls you dad. It makes you happy to know she's so accepting of you as her father. She invites you to her soccer games and school events and of course you show up to everything you can. She loves that she has two parents. It's so comforting to see the two of you in the bleachers while she's playing. And now it's a lot less likely for her to be alone at events. If Miguel’s working, you usually show up and vice versa.

And of course she’ll be the maid of honor at your wedding. She’s almost more excited about the wedding than the two of you are.

Miguel walks down the aisle, holding a beautiful bouquet of red and blue roses. He looks gorgeous. You can't wait for your honeymoon.

He walks up to you and gets into place.

“You look beautiful.” You smile at him.

“Thank you..” He replies, bashful.

You’re lost in Miguel’s beauty for the entire ceremony, only paying attention to when it's time to exchange rings, say your vows, and say “I do.”

You go in to kiss Miguel, sad that you can only peck him on the lips. You don't want to traumatize all the children with a french kiss. You pick him up and carry him bridal style.

“Do you wanna stay?” You ask.

“I wanna make our baby.” He says.

You nod and start running towards the jet you rented. Everyone in the crowd watches in shock as you abandon the wedding. Miguel throws his bouquet and a ton of people scramble to grab it. Thankfully for you two, Gabriella is staying with her grandparents so you can escape to your honeymoon without worry.

Miguel walks out of the bathroom, dressed in a beautiful lingerie set. A red lacy bra and panties along with matching stockings with garters to hold them up.

You hurry over to him. “You look amazing.” You grope his ass and give him a soft kiss. “Lay down.”

Miguel gets onto the bed and lies down, waiting for your next move. You grab his thighs and kneel in front of the bed, pulling him close to you. There's a gap in his panties for easy access. You press kisses along his thighs, occasionally sucking and biting them. You move to his pussy, pressing a kiss against his erect t-dick. He twitches in response. You bring it into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it.

“Fu- fuck–” He moans, curling his toes. He throws his head back and gasps as you start sucking him off while simultaneously slipping two of your fingers inside him. Miguel arches his back, moans getting increasingly louder as you finger him. “God yes–” He grins. “‘M gonna come-”

You pull away from him, still working his insides with your fingers. “What do you say, Miguel?”

“Pl- please~ please let me come, Daddy~”

“Good boy.” You go back to sucking on his dick. Miguel shakes as he squirts, drenching you in his pleasure. You lick up his slick before pulling away. “Tell me when you're ready.” You stand up and take your clothes off.

“I’m ready..” He moves backwards and spreads his folds with two of his fingers. “Please breed me, Daddy..”

You smirk. You climb onto the bed and align your length with his hole. Miguel watches intently as you slowly ease yourself inside him. The two of you watch as a bulge appears in his stomach the further you go in. “You're gorgeous, Miguel.” You run your hands up his body and grope his breasts. “You’ll let me get a taste once you start lactating, right?”

Miguel smiles. “Just a taste.”

You bring him into a deep kiss and inch yourself further inside him. Miguel gently moves his hips once he feels you bottom out, desperate to have you fuck him. You part from the kiss and move to his neck, lightly kissing his skin. “I love you.” You murmur before pulling away. You grab his legs and move him into a mating press. Miguel barely has time to process what you just did thanks to your sudden and rough thrusts. He grabs onto your shoulders, nails digging into your skin, and moans loudly as you properly breed his pussy. He can barely keep his eyes focused but just glimpsing upon your aroused expression makes his heart race even faster. It perfectly displays how much you love him and how good he's making you feel. He happily listens to your breathy words of praise and your low sounds of pleasure, falling deeper in love with you as the two of you completely tie yourselves together forever. He’s never been happier.

He already feels himself reaching his orgasm. “‘M clo- oh- close~!” He cries out. “Fuck-” He gasps, suddenly coming. He digs deeper into your skin when he feels you slow down. “Don’t- don’t you dare stop-” He almost growls at you. You take that as a warning and resume your previous pace. He manages to stay sane even as you continue to fuck his sensitive cunt, all for the sake of feeling you impregnate him. Just that is enough to give him strength to keep going.

“You're doing so- so good, Miguel.” You let out a low sound of pleasure. “Such a good boy for me..”

He moans happily.

“And you feel so fucking good..” Your breathing becomes more labored. “Making me come so fast with your tight pussy-” You groan, stopping as you fill him up with your first load of the night. He feels euphoric as your cum invades his insides.

“More…” He looks up at you with the cutest expression.

“I won't stop until I’m shooting blanks, baby.”

Miguel grins. He can't wait to spend the rest of his life with you and your kids.

[wosoluver]

Jealousy

Part 2 - previous

Lena Oberdorf x reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Lena's pov

"Morning" I said coming into the locker room the next day. I look around, but I don't see Y/N. Not seeing Ana either, drives me to conclude they are together and already outside.

"You look a bit shitty, no offense." says Giulia.

"Saying 'no offense' after saying the rudest thing ever does not make it less offensive."

"See you didn't get much sleep last night." Lea says, she knows me too well.

"Yeah, I was doing a lot of thinking... and feeling, I guess."

"Want to talk about it?"

"After training?"

She only nodded, walking next to me towards the field.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

We stayed back after training, with the excuse of training penalty shots.

"So?"

"hm, it's not that simple to get out."

"Is it about Y/N?"

"How'd you know?" I ask, lips parted a bit shocked.

She simply laughs, which feels a bit like a mock. Making me twist my brows questionably.

"You're really are oblivious about it! Klara was right!"

"You guys were talking about us?"

"Yeah, at Syd's the other day! Y/N had just defended you, and you basically shut her down. You do that all the time. Every time she tries to hit on you actually."

"She doesn't hit on me! I'm pretty sure she only sees me as a friend. That's exactly what I wanted to talk about."

"As a friend?" she said in an outrageous tone. "Your joking right? She religiously does your hair every game. You want to drive her everywhere and won't take a no for an answer, which is fine because she never puts up a fight anyway. She literally said she will marry you. She looks at you, like you hung up the moon and the stars?!

You go out everyday after training as 'friends' but have never actually bothered to invite your other friends. I think you really only got bothered once she invited someone else to come a long, because you knew this isn't a 'just friends' things.

You are bothered because she invited Ana to do something you consider to be extra friendly. Wondering 'what if she is doing romantic things with someone else?'.

Am I right or am I right?"

I felt tears come to my eyes. She described what I felt, but couldn't understand what it was. And I was angry in a way, with myself, for taking so long to notice.

"No need to cry babes." she said coming to hug me. "We cry when we have feelings that aren't reciprocated. You're so lucky, that girl is in love with you. And I really think she would like to hear how you feel."

I nodded quietly. After a couple minutes, in silence we go back inside.

Walking in, Y/N was sitting peacefully on her phone.

"Hey, what are you still doing here?" she looked up at me.

"Just waiting for you, so we can go for a snack." with the same kind smile she always had, on.

"I'll be quick in the shower."

Walking into the showers I was met with a grinning Lea.

"I told you."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Sitting in the usual spot we always did, I noticed for the first time the way she look at me. And maybe, just maybe the twinkle in her eyes, that I noticed very so often, was a sign of her adoration, that I've read wrong all along.

"You were crying..." it wasn't even a question, more of an statement.

"Not too much. I realized, I might have nothing to cry about."

"How's Ana settling in?" I cowardly change the subject.

"Good, I think she's really getting along with the new girl that arrived this week. Tainara, I think that's her name. It's nice to see, I know we didn't have much in common either.

Just didn't want her to go through what I did many times. Of arriving somewhere and feeling lonely and having a hard time making friends."

"I think it's lovely that you think so much about others. Wish I was more like that."

"You are one of the most considerate people I know."

"I'm so sorry."

"What? Why are you saying this?"

"Because I haven't been considerate with your feelings. I have made many mistakes, turning you down. I was unfair, but I swear it was never intentional." she reached across the table to place one of her hands on my cheek, holding it affectionately, as I lean on it.

"I know. That's the only reason I'm still here. You may have denied with words but your actions never lied." She caressed me softly.

"Do you really think I will be a cute granny?" she looked at me questionably.

"I will always think you're cute." and like it did many times before, her words made my stomach turn in excitement.

"Good. Because I want to grow old with you. I love you Y/N."

"I love you, Lena."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

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[arthurtaylorlester]

malevolent season 4 was... something, that's for sure

i want to preface this by saying i LOVE malevolent as a show and this is no means an attack on the creator or anything like that, i don't think i'll ever stop listening halfway, no matter how i feel about it. i'm not saying season 4 is all bad either.

it is a deviation for malevolent, though i found it VERY well written up until part 31 (and part 31 is my favourite malevolent episode ever)

s4 started off really strong for me, part 29 set the tone really well, much lighter after s3's emotional lows. the butcher was an interesting enough new villain to put yarson aside for now. part 30 had some charming moments, but the real star of the early season was part 31, a truly incredibly written and directed look into arthur's psychology. it truly gave us everything, from lore to highly comedic moments (to me)(no because why was arthur dreaming of waking up next to a shirtless man who tried to kill him)

parts 32 through 34 i'm not sure about, but i can write them off as awkward mid season points. part 34 was an interesting shift in perspective, but here is where my doubt's about the season's villains started rising

but the oscar & scratch arcs.... guys i'm gonna be honest, i might be oscar's #1 hater

scratch and oscar in this season were functionally useless filler. it's not unusual for arthur and john get sidetracked during their missions, but it usually ends up leading them right where they need to be by the season finale. this felt like a parenthesis that killed any tension created by the butcher.

this season had, quite unnecessarily, 3 antagonists. now this wouldn't be a terrible idea, had they been established before. but no. for some reason it was chosen to leave the only villain we could genuinely be afraid of alone, in favour of introducing not one but two antagonists yet to be established. neither because of this have the adequate fear factor (the butcher is better about this) and both get the most abysmal ends i could've imagines. what do you mean scratch is just gone like that after causing some emotional conflict with his deal. what do you mean the butcher was KOed by the fucking priest with a bedpan? what? that's it? you expect me to be scared or even care about the butcher now?

speaking of the priest. i want to like oscar i really do but. he's a terribly written character. we get to know him while arthur is teaching john intimidation tactics so out of gate our initial impression of him is as someone meek. and then in part 36 after "sorting out" the butcher, oscar just dumps out his trauma point blank to someone he's spoken to a handful of times in the past 3? 4? days.

malevolent in general has a bit of an exposition problem, but it usually works out if it's john expositing because. that's literally all he can do. but when a character with more agency do it, it makes them flat. oscar didn't have to tell us all that, he didn't have a reason. arthur confessing to 7 murders isn't a prompt to make himself vulnerable like that. i did not start caring for him, just because he had a tragic backstory. that's... not how you get someone to care about a character. oscar could be defined as a static character, and while it's not too unusual for a static character to be the focal point of an arc, i don't think it works the way most authors think it does.

also the worms in the farm only happened because of him messing with the stove so like. that's not helping his case.

the completely unnecessary farm arc concluded, we return oscar to the hospital, with arthur caving very quickly to john's demands if he truly cared about oscar so much. and so, a single episode before the finale, we get properly acquainted our main ally for the showdown. a choice definitely, but i feel like this one worked out pretty well considering noel had time to simmer before we got know of his past + he had interesting conflict with john and arthur.

and then there's the big one, the thing that appalls me entirely. leaving larson and yellow, the main villains of the finale COMPLETELY alone until the very end. why? why would you choose to not use them earlier? we spent so much time away from larson, so we weren't really as scared of him as we were at the end of part 28 (i literally was listening to the last 15 minutes of this ep on my toes because i thought he might do something) and we had had no CHANCE to even fear yellow, since we knew nothing of his power?

and what, the butcher is on our side now because noel granted his release? just like that? i know he's a contract killer but arthur insulted him to his face, he can believe they understand each other but did he feel no anger?

the finale did well, considering the context it was given to work with, though i did not understand the point of the memory thing... that didn't go anywhere? because not arthur nor noel actually lost anything. we don't know what the box was for, we only know some guy wrote "the birth of my son" on slip of paper and put it in. arthur assumed it was a memory, when it just as well could've been a literal offering, arthur assumed it would involve losing said memory, and they assumed it was related. initially i thought it would only go through if the ritual took place, which, it didn't. but reading back here is no further clarification on it. hold your angst horses, blindfaith enjoyers

i feel like john physically manifesting, if now an established power of his, was very cheap. unless it was a one-off, or some sort of power up, it just literally took away the main premise of the show. an all-powerful god rendered powerless by being stuck in some guy's mind and being forced to confront the troubles of someone infinitesimal to him. if you let him astral project and save people, then what's the point?

but i do actually think it was a one-off, so we'll see how it goes

simply put, john saving arthur when he jumped in s3 had more impact than this because he did it with a single, human, hand. no magic.

it was pleasant to have kayne and his expected chaos back, jarring as always. john's deal was exactly what we all thought it was going to be, maybe more about himself than arthur, but i don't think anyone can fault him for that.

one things though, and this questions may just be me not remembering, is arthur supposed to know that yellow is a separate entity from john when they realise larson has him in his head? because i remember arthur just assuming that 'yellow' just had all of his memories returned in part 23, and therefore not knowing that he's a separate guy from john.

just in general, i feel like s4 had a LOT of good ideas that weren't given enough room to breathe and therefore weren't written very well that really weighed down my enjoyment of the season. that's not to say there weren't things i liked. the emotional moments hit just as hard, like reconciling with daniel, the comedy was on point (genuinely this season was so funny) and even the most out of pocket thing arthur has ever said, calling john a child, no matter how much discourse it caused, was actually sort of in character for him? i mean arthur is an asshole so like i get why his immediate reaction to his severely emotionally unintelligent friend being possessive is babying him. they're awful people. they deserve each other. it made somewhat sense in retrospect.

all this to say, while i didn't hate s4, i think it had a lot of writing issues, especially when comparing it to the other 3, and it could've been done WAYY better but hey we all have our moments.

i await anxiously intermezzo's public release and the rest of season 5 👀

[kiki-smith21]

A Gentle Saturday Morning

Wednesday Addams x Autistic Fem Reader

A/N: This is my first fanfic, and any feedback would be appreciated. Let me know if you want a part 6. (I am actually autistic, so this is mostly based off the symptoms I show, but if you have any typical symptoms of autism you wish for me to add to the story later let me know and I'll try my best. Please be respectful to all, and remember to drink water and look after yourself, cuties❤️)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: After the nice sleepover, you and Wednesday decide to spend a relaxing day together.

The morning light filtered gently through the curtains of your dorm, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. You woke to the peaceful silence of the early hours, the memory of the previous night—a quiet sanctuary with Wednesday—still fresh in your mind.

In the bed next to your, Wednesday stirred slowly, her usual dark attire replaced by the more relaxed clothes she had borrowed for the night. You took a moment to appreciate the calmness of the room, the absence of chaos a welcome change from the usual bustle.

Careful not to disturb Wednesday, you slipped out of bed and quietly prepared for the day. You moved to the bathroom to shower, taking your time to enjoy the solitude. The gentle hum of the water was soothing, and you relished the simplicity of the morning routine, knowing that you would soon share this serene start with Wednesday.

When you emerged, you found Wednesday in the process of freshening up in the bathroom. You gave her the privacy she needed, using the time to organize the room and prepare a light breakfast. The sound of running water and the faint clinks of dishes created a soft backdrop to the morning's calm.

Eventually, Wednesday emerged, her expression serene as she brushed her hair and dressed in a comfortable outfit. The two of you moved around the room with a mutual respect for each other’s personal space, each enjoying the quiet morning without rushing.

Once you were both ready, you made your way to the dining hall. The campus was quieter than usual on a Saturday morning, adding to the sense of relaxation that had characterized your night.

In the dining hall, you found a cozy corner where you could enjoy your breakfast in peace. The hall, usually bustling with activity, was subdued this early, the soft chatter and clinking of cutlery creating a pleasant ambiance.

You both selected your breakfast items—fresh fruit, pastries, and hot beverages—and settled into your seats. As you ate, the conversation flowed naturally, a continuation of the gentle exchanges from the previous evening.

"So, what do you have planned for the rest of the day?" you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

Wednesday considered the question thoughtfully. "I haven’t given it much thought. I suppose I could use the time to catch up on some reading or perhaps explore the library further."

"That sounds nice," you said, smiling. "I was thinking of visiting the art studio and working on some new sketches. Maybe we could spend some time together later, if you’d like?"

Wednesday’s eyes softened, and she gave a rare, approving smile. "I’d like that. It would be pleasant to share the day with someone who understands the value of quiet and introspection."

The conversation meandered through various topics, each of you finding comfort in the easy flow of discussion. The gentle morning allowed you both to enjoy each other’s company without the pressure of schedules or obligations.

As breakfast concluded, you both lingered, savoring the tranquil atmosphere. You helped clear the table, and together you made your way back to the dorm. The day ahead promised relaxation and continued companionship, each moment a testament to the growing bond between you.

The rest of the day was spent in easy camaraderie. You visited the art studio together, where Wednesday quietly observed as you sketched, offering the occasional insightful comment. Later, you both returned to the library for a few hours, enjoying the peaceful environment and each other’s presence.

As evening approached, the shared experience of the day—marked by gentle conversation, mutual respect, and quiet enjoyment—strengthened the connection between you. The simplicity of the morning and the unspoken understanding that accompanied it became a cherished part of your growing relationship with Wednesday.

The day ended as it began, in a serene and comfortable silence, both of you content in the knowledge that you had found a unique and meaningful companionship in one another. It was a reflection of how the smallest gestures could weave a deep and enduring bond, one that continued to grow with each shared moment.

[lonelym00n]

The Red Means I Love You

Amber Freeman x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Ghostface is running around and you don't know who to trust. Amber reassures you that things will be okay.

Warnings: Typical canon violence with descriptions of blood. Please read with caution! Follows the events of Scream V. Also, Angst!

A/N: guysss... I did a thing... I'll just let you read and find out.

Title + fic inspired by Madds Buckley's song, The Red Means I Love You

If someone had told you a few days ago that you’d have to watch your close friend take a bullet to the head, you’d have slapped them across the face and added them to Mindy’s ever-growing list of potential future ghostface suspects. 

In retrospect, you suppose you were naive for thinking that you’d make it through Woodsboro High without falling victim to someone deciding to take up the infamous killer’s mantle. You should’ve suspected that it would happen eventually, especially considering that three of your best friends were related to survivors from the years prior. That fact alone painted a bright red target on your back and it was only a matter of time until an eight-inch hunting knife sunk into you because of it.

Did some higher deity sew the stars together to seal the fate of you and your friends? Were you destined to die at the hands of the ghost that haunted the little town you’d lived in all your life? Some part of you thinks that yes, this was meant to happen, because a tiny voice in your head always figured the friend group you’d become a part of was doomed from the day it began to form.

Everyone else in Woodsboro had it easy, their parents were present and the killings that plagued the town only existed for them in the form of the notorious Stab franchise. The same couldn’t be said for your friends.

Put a handful of Woodsboro High’s most traumatized students into one group and what do you get? The perfect cast for the next series of killings. Mindy tells you as much when you and the rest of your friends are clustered together in her living room, trying to identify who among you was responsible for brutally attacking the others left and right. 

As if being friends with people who are related to the survivors wasn’t bad enough, you learn from Tara’s older sister that she is connected to Billy Loomis, the original ghostface himself. More than being connected, Sam’s his daughter. You have half a mind to notify your parents to start picking out your tombstone now.

You barely listen as accusations fly around the room. How could it be possible that you were in the same room as the killer right now, when you’ve known everyone here your whole life? You were having a hard time processing the fact that one of the kids you’d played in the sandbox with in elementary school had grown up to become someone so sinister. 

Distantly, you hear Mindy conclude that Sam must be the killer, that it made the most sense because of who her father was. She storms out of the room and after a beat, you stand up on shaky legs and murmur a goodbye to the remaining occupants of the Meeks-Martin living room. Your head was reeling and you needed to get away or you’d break down and lose your last semblance of sanity. 

If there is a God that exists, they must hate you, because you break down anyways. Just outside the house, you’re hunched over, a hand clutched desperately at your rapidly rising chest. Despite your best efforts, you’re unable to chase away the dread and terror that have nestled in and made a home in your torso. 

Too wrapped up in trying to calm your irregular breathing, you don’t hear the familiar clunk of boots swiftly making their way towards you.

Though your vision is blurred, you’ve spent enough time around Amber to recognize her presence almost instantly. She’s bent over you concernedly, and you think she’s speaking to you but you can’t hear her over the accelerated pounding of your heart that has arisen from the lack of proper oxygen intake. 

Her body firmly encompasses your own and your senses are overtaken with everything Amber. If you were able to breathe, you would’ve sighed at the feeling of security that blanketed over you. 

Amber’s hands grasp yours and she presses your joined hands onto her chest, where her heart steadily thumps beneath. At the feeling of it, you will your own heart to match its rhythm. It takes a while for it to slow down but once it does, you faintly become aware of her sweet voice reminding you to breathe slowly, in and out, in and out. 

She looks relieved when you finally descend back to reality. “There you go, baby. You’re okay. I’m here.”

You throw your arms around her and sob into the embrace, struggling to ignore the burning in your chest. She rubs your back and shushes you quietly. 

“Amber, I can’t do this. I’m scared.”

She presses a chaste kiss to your forehead and pulls you in closer, resting her chin on the top of your head. “We’re gonna be okay.”

You mumble into her chest, “How can you be so sure?”

Practically smothered in her embrace, you remain completely unaware of the ominous look that has blossomed in the dark brown eyes that you love so much. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” 

You nod, albeit a bit hesitantly.

“Good. I’m going to protect you, I won’t let anything happen to us.”

It isn’t lost on you that just as there is with everyone else, there’s a slim possibility that Amber could be the killer. But out of everyone, you know her the best. Ever since she had asked you out, all shy and nervous and very un-Amber Freeman like, the two of you had been inseparable. She weaseled her way into your everyday thoughts and in turn, you became the center of warmth that thawed her previously cold heart. No one could deny that you and Amber balanced each other out perfectly. For the first time in your life, you found someone you could trust enough to fall deeply and irrevocably in love with. If you could trust Amber with such an intimate and fundamental piece of your soul, you could trust that she wouldn’t be silently plotting your death, right?

Wrong.

Just like Liv’s skull cavity, your heart shatters at the abrupt finality of Amber’s bullet. 

Chaos erupts at the spray of Liv’s blood and the crash of her still-warm body hitting the ground. Sam and Richie scatter as Tara knocks Amber’s next shot off course. 

The only thing you can think to do is run, so you do. You clamber up the stairs and dive into the hall closet. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle the pitiful sounds desperately trying to slip past your lips. 

You feel utterly broken, like the piece of your soul that you’d given to Amber was cruelly snatched out of your body and crushed in her murderous grasp. You want nothing more than to scream and wail until you yell yourself hoarse, but you can’t give up your hiding spot. As much as you’re sure that the pain of betrayal outweighs any cut from the blood-stained knife, you don’t want to find out if there’s any truth to the comparison. 

You hear two sets of feet making their way up the stairs, one stomping heavily and the other flailing uselessly. You aren’t one-hundred percent sure, but you think the pained whimpers you’re hearing belong to Tara. Which means Amber was likely the one accompanying her.

At the thought of your girlfriend, you recoil further into the closet. You can feel your whole body shaking in fear. 

After a few more long minutes, you can hear the familiar creak of Amber’s boots on the hardwood floor. She’s calling out your name and you press your hand harder against your mouth to completely silence the sound of your breathing. 

Her search becomes more frantic and the clunking of her boots begins to pick up speed. You reach around blindly in search of anything you can use to fend her off.

Just as you tighten your grip around what you think might be an umbrella, the closet door flies open. You swing with all your might, but Amber moves quicker, grabbing the umbrella and disarming you.

She quirks an eyebrow and chuckles at your failed attempt to hit her. She motions for you to stand.

 “Come on, down to the kitchen we go.”

You make no move to get up, paralyzed at the sight of her donning the ghostface robes. 

She groans, “I can’t have you ruining the plan. Let’s go.”

Her commanding tone does nothing to move you. You’re rooted to the spot in fear, wondering what fate is waiting for you down in the kitchen. 

Amber growls and you flinch backwards as she steps into the closet, towering over your seated form. 

“You’re being such a pain in the ass.”

Her hands wrap tightly around your waist as hoists you up and tosses you over her shoulder. You struggle futility, but there’s no chance you can escape the strong arm wound snugly around your midsection. 

Amber carries you easily down the stairs and you wriggle around faster, knowing from your frequent visits to the house that you’re almost across the threshold that leads into the kitchen. 

You’re placed onto the ground and firmly shoved to the other side of the island. Before you can even think to move, the steel barrel of a gun is pressed into your forehead. It’s Richie on the other end of it, and only then do you realize that Sam is laid out on the ground, a hand pressed into her side, where blood is trickling out despite her efforts to stop it. She looks up at you with sorrow and terror and you’re sure that your expression reflects hers like a mirror. 

Amber takes the knife that Richie offers to her and makes her way to a different corner of the kitchen. She jumps gleefully, and if things weren’t so fucked up you might’ve found the sight endearing.

Though the gun blocks out most of your vision, you see two other women in the kitchen. 

Gale Weathers and Sidney Prescott. Shit, even they managed to get trapped in this nightmare. 

Richie, seemingly pissed that you aren’t giving him your full attention, grips your jaw with more than enough force to leave a bruise. Your resulting moan of pain is insignificant to him.

“Leave her alone!” Sidney yells out and Amber’s knife presses threateningly into her throat, swiftly silencing her.

Richie laughs menacingly, “Sid, when are you gonna finally realize you aren’t in control here?” 

He turns towards you and frowns angrily.

“You know if it were up to me, you’d have been dead at the start of this thing.” 

A glob of his spit lands on your cheek and the gun is pushed further into your forehead, the force practically moving you backwards.

You’re scared, the most afraid you’ve ever been in your life. Your hands are trembling and you stutter, completely unable to come up with the necessary words to plead helplessly for your life. 

“Pathetic,” Richie growls out. He looks in Amber’s direction, “I don’t know what you saw in her honey.”

“She usually has a lot more fire in her.” 

You meet her gaze for a second. Amber’s eyes are nearly black, pupils blown wide with what must be psychotic pleasure. 

You open your mouth to finally say something, but the sudden smack of the gun across your face shuts you up. You cry out and lift your hands to your face instinctually. Your head is pulsing at the unexpected pain.

While Amber’s distracted with Richie’s assault on you, Sidney makes a grab for a knife sitting on the countertop.

Her actions don’t go unnoticed. Amber reacts with the speed of a demon and plunges her knife into Sidney’s gut. Gale yells out as Sidney crumples to the ground.

With both Sidney and Gale momentarily incapacitated, Richie knocks you backwards, sending you carelessly stumbling back and straight into Amber’s arms. He turns towards Sam, while Amber pins you against the counter.

“Get rid of her Amber, we need to start staging the bodies. Fast baby, we don’t have much time.”

She hums, not bothering to verbally acknowledge him. You shiver as your eyes lock together, hers still full of straight mania. 

Her arm lifts up and she moves slowly, tracing the blade against the smooth skin of your face. You try not to gag at the coppery smell of blood that is being carelessly smeared across your face.

She smiles softly at you, creating a confusing juxtaposition with the wild expression that fills her eyes. 

Amber leans in to whisper almost lovingly in your ear, “I always knew you’d look so pretty covered in blood, baby.” 

You can’t stop the tears from leaking out of your eyes. You’re so distraught, it’s nearly impossible to think straight with how overwhelmed you are. How could this Amber be the same Amber that had admitted to being nervous the first time she told you she loved you? 

“Amber, please.” You begged brokenly, hoping the girl you loved so dearly was still somewhere inside the maniac that stands in front of you.

Her gaze softens just a hair and you nearly cheer at the glimpse of your Amber. 

“I’m sorry. You know I’d keep you around if I could.”

The relief exits your body. Your heart drops deep into your chest at the words.

“You said you’d protect me.” You feel desperate, there had to be something you could say to snap Amber out of this state.

She pouts and brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I did. Richie wanted you to be the opening kill, but I stopped that from happening.” 

The special smile that she always saved just for you spread across her face, “I even convinced him to leave you to me tonight. I’ll be the last person you see, won’t that be nice?”

Your jaw trembles with the newfound knowledge. Amber spared you, but only to prolong your life so you’d die by her hand. Your resolve finally breaks, and you are fully encased in dread. 

In a strange mirroring of the day’s earlier events, you begin weeping loudly. Amber’s arms wrap around you in an attempt to comfort you. 

She deposits a kiss onto the top of your head.

“I know you don’t understand it, but I’m doing this because I love you.”

Her arms tighten around you and you’re suddenly blindsided by excruciating pain. Amber’s knife is slowly pushed deeper and deeper into your body, your insides twist around at the intrusion. 

As you yell out in pain, she shushes and gently praises you, repeatedly whispering how much she loves you. 

She rips the knife out of your gut, just to harshly plunge it back in once, twice, and a third time. You feel sick at the squelching that sounds out each time the knife enters your stomach. 

Blood dribbles out of your mouth as you groan in pain. 

Hazily, you notice that she’s covered in your blood. Your vision is darkening and you feel yourself begin to dwindle in and out of consciousness. 

Amber takes note of this and leans closer, her lips nearly touching yours. 

“You did so good for me, love. I’ll make sure they cast someone beautiful to play you in the movie.”

With a final whispered confession of love, Amber places a gentle series of kisses to your bloodied lips. She stabs you once more, and lowers your body carefully to the ground as she pulls the knife out one last time. 

You lay there, unable to move even if you wanted to. You stare up at the ceiling, it spins around and around and around. 

Your ears are ringing. If you could think clearly, you reckon you’d wonder what you did wrong to end up in this situation. You don’t think there’s any possibility for things to have ended differently. Fate was cruel and unforgiving, but at this point you have no choice but to lie in the bed that it has made for you.

The pain is gone, replaced with the silent weight of nothingness. You feel yourself drifting away, and you welcome the feeling. Maybe your next life would be kinder to you.

Unfortunately for you, your peace never comes. 

Instead, you find yourself opening your eyes disorientedly. You let out a sharp hiss at the blinding white lights that glare back at you. 

Once you’ve adjusted to the light, you finally make out that there are a couple figures crowding around you. 

“Wha-”

It hurts to talk, as a matter of fact, everything hurts. 

“Alright, alright you’re okay. My name’s Dr. Ford. You’re gonna be in a lot of pain for a while, so let’s take it easy.”

You stare back at the man in disbelief.

Somehow, despite all the odds, you survived.

A/N: ta da!! I'm actually planning a part 2 to this that follows our dear reader through the events of scream vi, so stay tuned! Heads up, it won't actively be about an Amber x R relationship cuz... well you know :'(

Fellow Amber stans plz forgive me for not feeding y'all more regularly.

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Sometimes I worry I make the action too short. I guess I just don't know how to add too much to it yet.

Honestly, it's weird thinking about how I already finished 11 chapters in like... 10 days? I keep this up for a month, and I'll end up with 100k words lmao (doubt that will happen tho...)

Right before he’s about to retire to his room for the night, Rudy catches up to him, eyes distraught. Ghost doesn’t like what it forebodes for his conversation with his Reaper.

“Fantasma.” Rudy shifts restlessly, “I don’t have much to give you.”

Would be a miracle if he did, Ghost imagines.

“I asked it about you, it said I should stay away from ‘the revenant of the Void’, that you’re powerful on a level we can’t comprehend.”, Rudy air quotes.

“Limbo seems easy enough to understand to me.” Ghost rolls his eyes. The day he finds a non-dramatic Reaper is the day he’ll die for good.

“It said Limbo works similarly to Reaper realms, that it has… strange effects on humans.” Rudy trails off, but Ghost perks up.

The Vaquero notices that, “you didn’t know?”

“Wasn’t in the bloody field manual” Ghost rumbles.

The man laughs, but he quickly returns to his solemn mood, “I asked him about Soap and it just… left.”

Ever Reapers don’t wanna give him any fucking information about Johnny.

Ghost sighs, “bloody gits, always run off before you can get anything useful.”

“Mine doesn’t usually do that… I think it was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Soap, his Reaper. Heavens know.”

Ghost nods, “appreciate the gesture, Rudy. Cheers.” He walks off to his bed, expecting another night of theorizing and over analyzing ahead of him.

They spend days collecting information, Shadow Company’s helo circling the party venue at night, and Vaqueros on constant watch for movement. 

They’ve decided on Bravo to include Soap, Rudy and Gaz, while Romeo with consist of Price, Alejandro and himself. Graves will keep an eye on El Sin Nombre from the sky, making sure he doesn’t slip away.

Price calls them for a private meeting of just the 141 members, going over engagement rules and power authorization. 

Ghost isn’t fond of the idea of Soap and Gaz being away from him, but after the favor Rudy did him he trusts the man. He also thinks morbidly that perhaps it’s for the best Johnny will be far from him, considering how Limbo is out to get him.

Shepherd joins the meeting for a short while, and Price fills him in on everything he missed. Everything, besides Soap’s little visit to Limbo, and the fact his Sergeant is now able to see things he couldn’t before.

They conclude the debrief, but the Captain orders them to stay. He looks at Ghost and informs him in his thoughts, “it’s time we discuss everything we know about Limbo with the others.”

He glances over to Johnny, who’s giving him a confused smile. He doubts it will stay after everything is said.

“I met with my Reaper on the plane to Las Almas.” Ghost starts with the beginning. “Warned me to stay away from ‘the revenant of destruction’ if I want to live”.

Soap flinches next to him.

“What?!” the Scot spouts at him, “you went on a mission with me knowing that?!”

“I’m not letting the damn Reaper decide who I trust with my six, Sergeant.” ghost drawls, “and you know yourself Reapers often don’t say exactly what they mean.”

Soap inhales to retort, but the Captain cuts him off, “it’s possible the Reaper means decades from now, or that your death will also kill Ghost. Not necessarily your actions.”

Johnny and Price enter a short staring match, probably shouting in each other’s brain, and Soap huffs and crosses his arms, “yes sir.”

His flaming fingers tap incessantly on his biceps, Ghost notes. He remembers why Soap originally didn’t use his explosion creation powers, how he was trying to repent for the innocent deaths it caused. 

Ghost won’t let Soap impede his own progress because of a theoretical, possible future tragedy.

He moves onto his other findings, “after I brought Johnny to Limbo, he started seeing its residents outside of it, when they try to drag me down from the ground.” he feels a sneaky git make a pass at his leg, and Soap stomps it for him, giving him a stern look. 

Garrick, whose been silent up until now (probably processing the honestly heavy amount of information) chimes up, “think that’s why they went at Soap on the training grounds? Maybe they could see him too.”

Ghost blinks in awe, how hasn’t he thought of it himself? “Would make sense.” he considers the theory, “that means…”

“No matter where I am, it’s like I’m always inside Limbo when you activate it.” Soap realizes.

Price nods thoughtfully, “only way to protect Soap now would be to have him right next to you.”

“No.”, Ghost hurriedly interjects, “Parra talked with his Reaper about the situation-”

“-just how much did you lot hide from me?!” Gaz interrupts.

“We didn’t hear about this either, Kyle, ease up” Price exhales.

Ghost hears Garrick scoff before resuming, “it said Limbo works similarly to Reaper realms, meaning it changes humans who enter it.” He stares at Johnny, “I won’t risk altering you any further.”

Soap squints, “yer worrying about me a whole lot for someone I will supposedly kill.”

“We’re all worried about you, mate.” Gaz calms the tense atmosphere around the two of them, “you’re more dangerous to yourself than the damn hostiles.”

“Real comforting Gaz.” Soap dead-pans. Garrick shrugs.

Price looks at the three of them, as if he’s been waiting for them to stop bickering like old hags, and focuses on Ghost, “from now on, you either don’t use Limbo, or do it far from Sergeant MacTavish, that clear?”

“Yes sir.” wasn’t planning on having it any other way.

“What if there’s an emergency?” johnny challenges. Ghost has to surpass an urge to shake the man by his shoulders. It’s like he was built to worry him.

“We’ll have to risk you changing a little more”, Price sighs.

Gaz fists Soap’s shoulder, “maybe next time you’ll get a skull mask of your own.”

“Aye, we’ll be matching, LT.” Johnny laughs a little.

After the entire day was spent in meetings and debriefs, Ghost and Soap returned to their room to sleep. In a few hours, they will take watch at a hill overlooking the birthday party, and wait for El Sin Nombre to make his move.

Ghost barely started drifting off when the bunk bed shook and Soap underneath him gasped, muttering a long list of curses he wasn’t sure were entirely in English.

“Johnny?”

The Sergeant stands up and backs away from the bed, Ghost now leaning on his elbows to see what got him so jumpy.

“Your bloody ‘friends’ keep feelin’ me up again.” Soap eventually lets out. “I see why you sleep up there.”

Ghost exhales, “they’re trying to get to me…” he makes a move to get up, “take my bed, I’ll take yours.”

“I’m not taking your fuckin’ bed! They’re just gonna grab ye instead!” his Sergeant walks over and shoves Ghost back on the thin mattress. Or at least he tries to, as Ghost instantly reverses the grip and pushes him off.

He tsks, “we should work on your hand-to-hand combat, Sergeant.” he smiles smugly behind the mask.

Soap frowns, “not my feckin’ fault yer built like a tank, sir.”

His Sergeant hops up and takes a sit next to him on the top bunk, leaning back with a sigh. The bed was small enough that Ghost could feel the heat coming off Soap in gentle waves.

“You’re going to sleep like this?” Ghost ribbed him gently. 

Soap just wiggled around, crossed his arms and closed his eyes, “aye, slept in worse places.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, and feels his mouth twitch to a smile, “you better not complain about your back tomorrow.”

Johnny grins and cracks one eye open, “not an old man like ye. Besides, wouldn’t be a problem if we just cuddled, sir.” he gives him that cheeky look that tells Ghost he’s joking.

“In your dreams, Sergeant.” he murmurs.

Soap closes his eyes again, “oh, it certainly will be.”

The party started at sunset, Price, Alejandro and Ghost staying on the hill, watching as Bravo makes their way down.

Gaz will take out the guards situated outside the party, and Soap will explode the cars of the guests, parked on the south-east of the mansion the party takes place in. Rudy will freeze shut the doors exiting that side, funneling anyone to the north-west, where team Romeo is waiting.

Graves is monitoring the guests, trying to spot any suspicious activity. Ghost reckons he won’t find much, considering the Vaqueros have been trying to find out El Sin Nombre’s real identity for years now. He puts more trust in the Mexicans than Shadow Company.

They watch Garrick’s sniper shoot the guards, small flashes of light high in the night sky the only hint something’s amiss. “Exterior clear, Captain.” he informs them. 

“Bravo” Price radios in next to Ghost, “permission to commence diversion.”

“With pleasure”, Johnny whispers into his mic, and Ghost feels an excitement bubble within him. He can’t wait to see what his Sergeant will do.

Not a moment later a fireball rises from the parking lot, a loud sound following a second later. The music from the party cuts off, and it devolves into a chaos of frightened guests running away. Guards attempt to reach the destroyed cars, no doubt after the perpetrator, but are stopped by the frozen doors Rudy is keeping sealed shut.

“Dead ahead north, 5 bodyguards and the Lugarteniente running off, one of them must be Sin Nombre.” Graves’ grating voice drawls through comms. The three of them rise from their hidden spot and start running, Gaz taking out anyone aiming at them.

Ghost watches Price’s eyes move rapidly, scanning the minds of their potential targets. “That one! El Sin Nombre is a female sicaria!”

Alejandro whips his head around, shouting, “are you sure, hermano?!”

“Positive-!” a force field shoves them back, one of the bodyguards raising their arms as if they're physically pushing it.

Ghost and Price get knocked back, but Alejandro runs ahead, the force field passing through him harmlessly. He phases back into the material world to shoot the man down.

Ghost kills another aiming at the Vaquero commander, Price taking the last two.

The Lugarteniente stares intently at Alejandro, and he abruptly drops like a doll and groans in pain. Ghost takes out a throwing knife and buries it in the man’s eye socket, making him release Alejandro from his influence.

El Sin Nombre frantically looks around, pistol swinging between each soldier. Graves’ helo lowers, shining spotlights at the woman, “drop your weapon! Down on the ground!”

Sin Nombre zeros in on Alejandro, giving him an arrogant smile, “Los Vaqueros working with Shadow Company? You’ve truly fallen from grace, Vargas.” She laughs.

Alejandro doesn’t respond, opting to grind his teeth. Price steps forward to bind her wrists while  the helo lands, Graves stepping out with a winning face. Ghost rolls his eyes, the American looks like he did anything of importance on this mission.

“El Sin Nombre, in the flesh. I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun.” Graves smiles down coldly at her. 

She looks him up and down, “who brought this pendejo gringo here?”.

“None of your business, Valeria”, Alejandro growls. Valeria? He knows her?

Price cuts the little chat by taking hold of her, dragging her to the helo. Ghost watches Alejandro stare at her, eyes frowned with contempt, before sighing and climbing aboard.

Ghost grabs hold of his radio, “HIV is captured, we’re RTB.”

“Something on my face, Sergeant?”

Sin Nombre is escorted off to a shipment container for interrogation, and the group slowly trickles inside, when Ghost notices Soap’s stare on him.

The Scot startles and averts his eyes. When he looks back, his eyes are full of mirth. He leans forward, and Ghost’s instincts tell him to lean back. He stays put.

“Aye, you got a smidgen of dirt right…” Johnny brushes a finger on the side of his mask, the mellow flame tingling his cheeks, his chest filling with warmth, “...here.”

His Sergeant shows him the finger, permanently blackened by fire, and a playful grin.

“What would I do without you, Johnny.” Ghost sarcastically grumbles, the feeling of Johnny’s flame seared into his face.

The Sergeant chuckles before entering the container. Garrick’s eyes look at Ghost, a smirk growing on his face. He doesn’t say a word as he trails behind Soap.

Valeria joins the Graves hate club! Also Gaz is literally like 👀

[omgkalyppso]

WIP Wednesday

I was tagged by @littleplasticrat. ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ Thank you!

I'm going to grab a bit from a bunch of ideas. Some of which I may have shared before, but I think it's fine. I have some new followers. 👋

I'll tag @recurringwriter, @razrogue, @ghostwise, @bladesandstars, @allycryz, @lucius-the-sinful, @sevarix-blogs, @bosspigeon, @bhaalbaaby, @tadpole-apocalypse, @the-eldritch-it-gay and YOU. And I encourage you to reshare old wip's regardless of progress if there's nothing new you want to share. <3

Different stuff from the swtor imperial agent oc x Vector Hyllus wip than I shared last time:

“Vector,” she beckoned, “what emotions do you see in my face?” And he blinked, opening his mouth to answer before she added, “What colors do you read in my aura?” He closed his mouth again, swallowing, taking more time to consider. Politely, he moved his hand from her thigh to the side of the bed, and saw instantly in her expression and aura that this was the wrong decision. Quickly, he moved to answer before making another mistake, “You appear … relaxed. Non-judgmental, as you have ever been in the privacy between us. Content and comfortable,” he shifted his legs up onto the bed, bending them beneath himself as he sat closer, “but contrasted by bright red and gold: love and joy. Soft pinks and purples,” he released her hand to slide his fingers up to her elbow again, risking more skin contact, more arm contact, “like a resting nebula. Gentle blue.” He wondered if he should describe her physically next. He rarely did. She never asked. The speckles of black on her lip were as alluring to him as the brightest fruits tempted the sweetest tongues, the jagged shapes of her markings were as lightning and veins of precious metals in the heart of a nest, the curve of her chin, the set of her brow — she was beautiful, and capable of falsehoods, and diplomacy, and destruction, and love. So much love. He lowered his gaze as he finished his answer to her question, “It leads us to conclude that you are happy with how things are, if slightly distracted by—” “By your worrying, Vector,” Cipher Nine chastised, and his gaze found hers again easily, a blush growing on his cheeks. She squeezed the high part of his forearm, pressing her thumb into the soft flesh at the inside of his elbow as she’d once learned to do an age ago, and their shared smile filled Vector’s chest with such aching relief. “I may not see all of it, as you do,” Cipher Nine allowed, “but that doesn’t mean your subtleties escape me.”

Concepts for Astarion's parents: Antoinelle and Rasileth (ray-sill-eth):

Blocked dialogue between Étoile and Astarion for after my amended The Pale Elf climax where Astarion becomes a vampire, in place of either remaining a spawn or rising as the vampire ascendent. At his grave:

Étoile: Is the burial part of the transformation? Or did he just do that to you too? Astarion: No, it just … made me weak. Made me grateful to see him. To see anyone, I suppose. He may have thought it was funny, or maybe he just didn't have a discreet way to haul my corpse around at the time. Étoile: Who would have arranged for the tombstone? Did you have an estate? Was it Cazador, or someone you knew? Astarion: My … my parents. Étoile: Are they alive? Astarion: (as a warning) Étoile. Étoile: (imagining the disaster of encountering them without warning in the street) It's important. Astarion: They cannot see me. There's almost nothing left of the man I was. Certainly their son is long dead, buried here, while I stalked the streets like a ghost. Étoile: You can reinvent yourself. You can choose a new name and a new direction. And still I will cherish you, and your many incarnations. But you were stolen from them. If we survive this, I would like to meet them with you. To give yourself closure, if nothing else. Astarion: I have closure. They're as dead to me as much as I am to them. I'm here. I'm here! I survived. I won. They didn't even know I was missing. It would shame them to have even a fraction's worth of context for what I survived. And I… I don't want their pity, their grief. [a pause, hysterical] Their relief?! Should they have any, would only be burdensome. I can't carry it.

Possible scene concept for Upper City award ceremony involving Astarion's mother:

Astarion's Mother is a clerk / archivist in Baldur's Gate's Parliament, and they are there to receive some award / recognition / payment for their part in saving the city. And recognizing him, she reaches out to him in the crowded official venue where the Watch and important players are present -- she calls his name, she holds his arm; and his expression reveals in an instant he knows her, that this is his name, but his companions are scattered (because he doesn't actually (yet?) want to be recognized in high society while the future of the vampire spawn and himself are still contentious) and so he is free to deny her: she's mistaken. He uses some magic to make the lie take, but there are failsafes for this sort of thing in this kind of venue. [An important character (probably Florrick)] has charge of the guards, all pointed on him now, bringing more attention to the moment than it might've had otherwise. And it perhaps mirrors something he made a ruling on. Maybe he condemned a g/ur for improper use of magic on forbidden grounds against a family member, when the g/ur people insisted repeatedly that the law had no business over familial disputes. They were so often condemned by society, they did not mean to condemn one another. Let them sort out their own business, they pleaded, and he refused. In the "present" Étoile asks if there isn't a fine they can pay, and the important character says if Astarion releases the spell, then a fine can be discussed. His mother is glassy-eyed as the magic fades, but addresses him no more, and says to [the important figure] there should be no charges, and leaves.

Sharing two more wips more blocked dialogue (between Wyll and an oc (Zavorys)) and a few sentences as a sexual scene concept (between Étoile and Raphael) below the cut.

Years post-canon. Maybe seven, maybe more than ten. Wyll and Zavorys are married with three children (of which two are adopted):

After a long day, Wyll holds a book, staring into space instead of reading, while Zavorys half-sleeps at his side. They can hear him thinking. Zavorys: Wyll? Wyll: Yes, my sweet? Zavorys: You seem distracted, is everything alright? Wyll: I want to ask you something. Zavorys: Something serious? Wyll: Something important, but not serious. Zavorys: Then can it wait until the morning? I'm tired. Wyll: Yes, it can wait until morning.

Sunrises on the bedroom. Zavorys rises first, they make a mockery of his name and press a cold nose into his neck. He has some humor about it, and pulls them into tired kisses. Zavorys: Wyllace? Wyll: Mm. Mmm? Hm-hmm. Zavorys: You had something important you wanted to talk about? Wyll: I did, I— Do you want to eat first? Be with the children? Zavorys: We have some time. Whatever you prefer, it's your concern. Wyll: I love you. (more kisses) My beautiful, considerate wife. Zavorys: (more kisses) My handsome, deflecting husband. Wyll: (handsy) No one could blame me for my distraction when your lips are so soft, when your body is so lush, when my heart and yours dance with such passionate familiarity. Zavorys: (good-spirited warning) Wyll. Wyll: (a sigh as he drops his hands) I want to talk about our relationship. I want to talk about exclusivity. Zavorys: Go on. Wyll: I … love what we have. What we share. I don't want to upset your trust in me if this subject is too difficult. Zavorys: I can handle a conversation, Wyll. Wyll: In my early adventures as the Blade of Frontiers, you know that I took lovers. A sweet maiden's kiss, a gentleman's tryst, a lover under the stars. And some of them were sad partings, but most of them were not … and they didn't feel … like love, or even like possibility. From this, and the stories of my youth, and from my father's loneliness … I used to think that romance, for me, would only take one shape: a single partner, a traditional, dedicated, all-consuming love that could move the heavens in its purity and devotion. Zavorys: And now? Wyll: And now that I have that, you mean? Zavorys: Don't be smart. Wyll: (agreeing) And now. (sincere) I would either hesitate to call any love pure, or I would not hesitate to call all love pure. I've seen the ease with which Halsin's joy infects his partners, the work Étoile puts in to ensure their lovers feel appreciated, the care Shadowheart takes in maintaining boundaries, with her lovers, and her religion, and her children — and it doesn't look so different to the loves I've come to know, with you, with our family, or our friends. And so it emboldens me to ask, if you would want to — consider, at your own pace, in your own time — inviting Étoile and Astarion, to … being part of our relationship. They might be frustrated with me in this because of years ago, but they would be gentle with you, and I would be willing — and interested in putting in the work to see if this could agree with us, to find and feel love in this way. Zavorys: (gentle mockery) You're so delicate. Wyll: Hardly.

Zavorys: Has this been on your mind since we saw them necking Zevlor in that alleyway? Wyll: Since before, but … it didn't help. Zavorys: (more teasing) It did help. Wyll: Or yeah, it did. Zavorys: (considerate) With forewarning, I can't imagine myself feeling angry about you kissing another, but I don't know… What if they didn't want me? Would you still want to pursue them alone? Wyll: I think they'd reject us both rather than only one of us if it came to that, but … I don't know. I don't think I could be comfortable without you there at first, even if I had your support, but if we did take a lover or a partner, and then wanted to try individual relationships … No, I don't know. I don't know if I'd be secure enough for that. It would depend too much on the person or couple you chose. Zavorys: (a little sad, kneeling over his waist) That's about me again, Wyll. I asked about you. Not initially then, but eventually. Could you see yourself courting couples without me? (insistent) Because I could. I could see us working, as we always have — as we always will, even if your relationships took a different shape than mine. (considerate) You get this guilty set of your shoulders, this frown, when you worry … but there's nothing to worry about. It's okay. Wyll: (vulnerable) I love you. Zavorys: As I love you. (kisses) Invite them to dinner some day before a weekend, and give me at least three days warning. Wyll: There's five days until this coming weekend. Zavorys: There's no rush. I don't know how long it's been on your mind before asking me, but I know you rush yourself. When you're ready. When you want. Wyll: And you? Have you been wanting this without telling me? Zavorys: No, but— I love love, and we know Étoile and Astarion well. If they would want to take me to dinner and kiss you silly — there's a lot they'd do as just our friends, help with the children, with decisions about our lives — it might just be because they are both nosy as all get out, but I do need less thought for them than if you'd have suggested ... Lady Jannath. Wyll: (laughing) Not Lady Jannath. Zavorys: (laughing) Be kind, she's just a woman. Wyll: Sorry. (clearing his throat) You're right though. I understand what you're saying. Zavorys: Good. Now get dressed, we can still be on time for breakfast.

Whether modern setting or canon-setting-AU situation where Étoile and Raphael hate fuck. I just have these sentences on my phone to inject into a project whenever I have a whole scene or setting that suits:

“You'll have to blindfold me so I can cum, because just the sight of you—” Étoile slapped Raphael across the face to silence his insult, and Raphael made to laugh victoriously, but then their large, determined hand gripped around his throat, and Raphael couldn't even be bothered with a cursory display of offense, his lips twisting instantly into a bitten hiss that was half challenge and all relief.

[therealvinelle]

I think the cullens are all older than computers, so... who is actually good at them and who uses computers like a grandpa?

Well, the thing is being bad at computers isn't really about age. I'll try to tdlr, but my five cents on why computers are so difficult to some people and particularly those of older generations are that it's mainly due to two factors:

The inmates are running the asylum, or: computers aren't actually that intuitive

An issue I often see when I see someone fail to properly interact with a computer is that what they think should happen isn't what happens, or that what they want to do next isn't what the system allows them to do next. This isn't necessarily their failing, their logic can be flawless, it's just that the computer doesn't work like that. Now the user is unable to accomplish their task, they feel they've failed, and from there you get frustration and a sense of difficulty. If this happens often enough, which if often will if the person never learns computer logic (for lack of a better term), the person ends up throwing their hands in the air and concluding they're bad at computers.

(An example of what I mean by computer logic: different browsers, devices, and accounts works tend to confuse people. "I'm logged into my mail, why is it making me log in again?" - person who was logged in on Safari but tried to access their mail through Chrome. It's the same computer, and what's a browser? Add the fact they're logged into their mail on phone and that works just fine for extra confusion points.)

Considering how the purpose of computers is to make our lives simpler I consider this a failing on the computer's end, not the humans. Is it a problem they can necessarily help, no, but part of the problem is that the people designing and implementing computer systems are people who, for lack of a better term, think computer logic is perfectly reasonable (hence "the inmates are running the asylum" (reading material)). That, and figuring out how to make X thing user friendly (and something users actually want to use) is... so hard, you've no idea how hard it can be.

Obviously this is issue is a complicated one and computers being what they are you're never going to be able to make them work the way humans wish they would (it would be nice if your computer intuitively knew it was you and there was no such thing as accounts, good luck implementing that), my point isn't really why computers are the way they are. It's that humans think a certain way, computers another, and for some people it's going to be very difficult to come around to understanding the computer's way of doing things. They'll memorise the steps required to accomplish a given task, or master specific systems because they're familiar. Introduce an update where suddenly everything's changed, however, or have them run into a problem when accomplishing a familiar task, and they struggle.

Defeatism and failure to diagnose the problem

I'll be much briefer here than above and I did touch on it already, but in essence: so many of the people I know who struggle with computers have A: decided that computers are difficult and they're not going to get it right anyway so why try, and/or B: internalised the memorise-the-steps method to the point where that's how they interact with computers, always. Time to learn how to check your new email, aight, guess I'll out which buttons to click.

After all, computers are such strange beasts that in order to get anything right you need to memorise exactly what you need to do, or it'll never work and you'll be stuck at some login page forever.

That, and some people seem to straight up find computers intimidating, "I'll stick to analog." Oh, and let's not forget the "I know how to accomplish the tasks I need to so I'm alright.", an approach that's all well and good until you encounter a problem you have no idea how to go about solving.

(I'll admit I'm basing this point entirely on computer illiterate family members and armchair thinky thoughts.)

Conclusion

It's my understanding that older generations struggle more obviously (word choice here: it tends to be more obvious with older people, younger people do not automatically understand what they’re doing) with computers not because they're being stupid, but because of their logical approach. They never really get the gist of how to interact with computers and get stuck in these weird vicious loops, "I'm not going to learn anything/I know what I need so why try for more". Why it’s so much harder for older generations, I don’t have a good or succinct answer but the two things I’ve listed seem to me to be the main obstacles they contend with.

With that in mind, onto your actual question.

Would the Cullens be able to learn computers, or: who is able to adapt and avoid getting stuck in vicious cycles:

Alice adapts fairly well, since she can see ahead of time which button to click. Because of this she never actually has to learn why things work the way they do, but everyone thinks she's a computer whiz all the same.

Bella gets a new computer now that she's a Cullen. It's really fast and there's no longer half a million pop ups when she uses the internet, Bella concludes becoming a vampire even made her better at computers.

Carlisle is forced to use computers from the 80's onwards as they enter American workplaces. He has had to learn how to use more unspeakably horrid workplace systems than he cares to remember, it's all a blur. He's not going to be glued to the home computer either, it's... nice, and he probably should learn how to navigate the internet better, but he knows how to find the things he's interested in and is happy with that.

Edward would have to learn computers as a matter of pride once they became ubiquitous in households. I can see him taking a programming class just so he can flaunt sexy words like "terminal" and "homebrew" to his very impressed family.

Emmett I think would make a few cursory attempts to navigate computers when they became accessible to normal households, only to find them pretty lame. He'll be outside if the nerds need him.

Esme gets stupidly good at software for architects and interior designers, and can navigate the web to find and share various recipes and household tips with perfect ease. She keeps this to herself because ordering things online for her while she claps in amazement makes Edward so proud of himself.

Jasper I think would be of the same opinion as Carlisle, computers are nice and he knows how to get what he wants, no real interest beyond that. At least, no immediate "wow, computers!! I'm gonna spend so many hours on the internet!!" enthusiasm coming from that direction.

Renesmee has no idea how computers work, zero. However, she's young so everyone including Bella assume she must be a whiz. Renesmee is not a whiz.

Rosalie has studied far too much STEM to be able to escape programming. If anybody in the Cullen family can actually code it's going to be her, though Alice thinks she's useless because jeeze Rose, you can create graphs of balls falling from various heights but not a single pretty website, while Edward hurries to throw in that he knows programming too, you know. Check out this class.

[frozensunflowersandlilies]

Arendelle Castle Rooms Part 4 | Analysis

In part 3, we explore the swing, the royal garden, the gallery and the library.

1. The swing

(ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen' | "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

The swing inside the grounds of the castle, is just after the three knights done the hall of the spiral steps. It also appears in Frozen Fever when Elsa gives Anna as one of her many gifts, a sandwich baguette! And I think this swing is on the east side of the castle given the view that can be seen when Anna is on I alone in the first movie. @lovewillthaw-j has a post detailing all about it and so to fully understand the location of the swing, do check out her post. The swing is located at the inner east of the castle, right before the palace - just so that you can see one of the small wide pillars of the castle. I can't put an image here due to the limit but you can see the last part of this post series to see the collage I put together concluding all of this.

2. The royal garden

(ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen' | "Ring in the season" in 'Olaf's Frozen Adventure')

The royal garden is considered the most peaceful area of the castle as it's quiet. The key thing about it is the willow tree. The garden is at the front of the castle right next to the bridge that connects the castle to the rest of the kingdom. The garden goes all long the outer palace wall. To get to it from the inside, there's a tunnel like way on the inner perimeter of the castle as seen in the second image above - where the red arrow goes along and from there you just walk straight down and at the end you turn left and there should be a door that opens up to the castle garden given that door is on the wall. See the last part/ part 9 for the full view of each room with their locations in the castle.

Again @lovewillthaw-j 's posts are so helpful. She made a post about this door to the garden.

3. The gallery

(ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen' | "Making today a perfect day" in 'Frozen Fever')

The gallery has all kinds of ancient art but it also includes family portraits and photos such as the one Elsa gave Anna on her 19th birthday in Frozen Fever. The portraits have changed over the years so the teal couch Anna jumped and made a pose, is the same couch Elsa jumps with her to present Anna her gift. The chairs must've been in place on purpose for the jump so I don't think they're placed there.

The placement of the gallery is on the left side in the middle teal slope area. Due to the limit I can't show you but when I gathered all the rooms on the Arendelle Castle image, I'll fit the rooms to their places

4. The library

(ref: "For the first time in forever" in 'Frozen' | Hans reveals his villainous self to Anna in 'Frozen' | Charades game night in 'Frozen 2')

This is the room Elsa practices her coronation ceremony in holding the orb and sceptre but the extra practice is on controlling her magic. And there's a large painting of her father's coronation ceremony too. It's also the same place where Hans betrays and reveals himself to Anna leaving her to die in a frozen heart.

In Frozen 2, the same room appears and this time they have a charades tradition in the evening in the library. The set-up however has changed a little with the L - Sofa being replaced with the table and Lt. Mattias' portrait hung up too. The door next to Agnaar's portrait may have been a continuity error too and so it doesn't exist.

But right outside the room is a window and we see Anna and Olaf climbing through the window to get to Kristoff, towards the end of Frozen, so we know roughly where the room could be (which I'll show in Part 5).

To be continued in Part 5.

[pacific-rimbaud]

Thank you so much for the updates to Remember One Thing! They have been the best emails to wake up to and read first thing in the morning. I felt my stomach dropping and all the feels as I read chapter 6!

Would you ever consider writing some of their back story after the story is complete? (side note: I totally trust you to provide all the context we need in the story) but rather just back story and prior to the accident because there’s so much history! My heart feel heavy just thinking of history!

I’m so sorry to ask as I know this is naturally the questions tied to a memory loss! You’ve just done such a damn good job world building. An example I’m thinking of is The World of Wait and Hope! But I’m absolutely not wondering about something that involved! (Unless of course you’re down, in that case we’d all be so lucky) For real, I want you to know that the only content I want to read from you is work you willingly share, want to put out, and are proud of! I respect you so much, thanks again for your loveliness <3

There is so much history! It's a story about the part memory plays in our self-concept, how we reckon with and integrate our various past and present selves, the ways our relationships are ongoing acts of shared creation, and the choices we make about who with and how we engage in that creation process (whew!). The slow, steady drip-drip-drip of being shaped by another person's presence day after day, for better or for worse, which is different but just as powerful as big personality-level cataclysms. Because their context is so critical to how they're both behaving, I have to have a really vivid picture of where they've come from. and I'm trying to be extra thoughtful writing this to (hopefully) have that history be an invisible but palpable presence. I really hope that the way it concludes is satisfying. I think it will be.

I will say that Neville's perspective in this one is truly awful. It will probably sting pretty bad on reread. There's a whole bunch of stuff that makes the situation particularly rough for him, and he's pushing through without any sense of when or whether there will be a resolution that isn't full of more loss. So maybe he deserves a little Neville POV prequel where he just falls in love and gets the girl and is treasured and safe and happy (which he has been, I sincerely hope that the profound love and glimmers of the mutual care within this marriage are coming across). I'll finish this and see what pulls on me next. I'm honestly just incredibly happy to be writing again and feeling all the feels for these two poor souls.

Thank you so much for reading and for the ask!

[fanfaire]

[ drinks on me ]

the sun hangs high in the sky, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the sand. the salty breeze carries with it the scent of the sea, mingling with the faint aroma of sunscreen and smoke that wafts in from the direction of the harpastum games.

kaveh waits for furina off to the side — with not one, but two drinks in tow.

"i wasn't sure which you'd prefer, so i got both just to be safe," he says with a smile. "i figured you'd need something refreshing after all that running around." in his right hand, a glass of sparkling berry juice. in his left, a frosty concoction made of berries & mint. "you can have both if you'd like. i prefer something stronger, personally."

SHE HADN'T EXPECTED TO BREAK SUCH A SWEAT. maybe it was the outfit she chose. . . maybe it was her decision to keep her hat, even in such menacing heat. with the games concluded, she's more than eager to take it off, fanning herself with its brim amid a deep breath and sigh to clear the last of the tension from her shoulders. a glimmer of the vision at her hip, and a twisting vine of water manifests la chanteuse at her side, her cooling presence bringing a smile of gratitude from the girl in turn.

a flicker of color in her periphery, and furina's attention turns next to the familiar face approaching her with— oh, a pair of drinks? one for himself and one for her, she presumes ; lips part upon a smile to thank him, but he speaks first, revealing her assumption to in fact fall short of his generosity.

". . . both? oh. . . " mouth shapes a small, perfect ' o ' as she takes this in. and in the next instant, it's gone, almost a mirage. she nods, reaching for the one on the left with an elegant acceptance.

"how thoughtful of you! i am parched after that exercise ; you wouldn't realize that tossing around a few balls could be such a workout. but i'll help myself to just the one. you take the other ; it'd only be right."

( she will not let her eyes linger on that sparkling berry juice, no matter how tantalizing it smells ; something that sweet could only set back her regimen by at least a week, and she would never hear the end of it from crabaletta! )

"but where were you, kaveh? i saw you spectating from the side, but surely you didn't think yourself too old to be playing this kind of game anymore, do you?" the look of chastisement, hand upon hip, is almost dry — as though to say ' consider carefully who you're talking to '.

[junipersrambles]

Alright, so I just finished watching the season 5 finale of BSD and I have a lot of thoughts, most of them unprocessed but I'm going to try and summarize them anyways!

Its not shocking to me that there was a bit of a twist ending with everything being tied up quite nicely (for the most part, I'll get to the 'two hours later' thing in a bit). Kafka Asagiri has a habit of subverting expectations when concluding complex plots. Now is it a bit convenient that it ended the way it did? Perhaps, I would argue though that we were left with a lot to explore in the upcoming chapters/season of the show (assuming the manga follows the same plot beats when released in the upcoming months). Lots of great character moments and parallels occurred which I will likely write in future posts.

Do I think Fyodor is dead? I'm not entirely convinced, considering the circumstances though its the most likely conclusion. Not how I assumed it would play out, but it was an interesting conclusion to the mind games between him and Dazai that have been playing out since the prison arc started.

I'm curious to see why there was a lack of focus on Sigma. It probably has something to do with wherever the next arc is going. I would hope that he isn't dead as his arc feels like it hasn't been properly concluded. If he isn't dead its possible that he gained knowledge about whatever the next incoming disaster is. The best we can hope for is that he survived and we can learn about what Fyodor knew and what his ability truly is (if we are lucky).

I could gush forever about Nikolai and how he talks about Fyodor after the helicopter crash. It feels like an interesting conclusion to his story, one that seemed inevitable in my opinion. Though I am curious to see where his character is taken from here, I think it would be okay if this was his final appearance. I have a feeling that he may get a few more scenes processing his feelings about how his worldview may have been altered/shifted after the events of this episode. Only time will tell.

Bram gets his body back!! He is probably one of my favorite characters if not for his interactions with Aya alone, then definitely for his characterization (and the way I know the real Bram Stoker would be rolling in his grave). No idea where he'll go from here, but all the moments with him were nice and its my hope that he can at least be a fun father type figure for Aya in the future.

Its nice to see Dazai and Chuuya interact (as always). Was it a bit convenient that Chuuya was pretending to be a vampire? Yes of course, though it provides a reasonable explanation as to why Dazai isn't dead, so I suppose it works. Glad they aren't dead, their arcs don't feel complete yet. I don't have much else to say about their time in the episode unfortunately.

All of the scenes with Fukuzawa and Fukuchi were excellent and I am very glad that they took up the most time in the episode. The emotional resonance in their scenes is palpable and I'm really glad that they had time to talk things out while in Poe's book. Those moments had too many literary quotes and references to count, but I really appreciated that their motivations were laid bare for the audience. I think the final scene between the two of them will stick with me for a long time. If you have yet to see the episode this moment alone makes it worth watching in my opinion.

I don't think that there is a complicated answer as to why Akutagawa appears to be human and alive again in the 'two hours later' segment. The simplest answer likely has to do with aspects of Bram's powers that have yet to be explained. If this is not the case I'm sure there's another convenient explanation.

I always think that its an interesting choice when a studio releases the conclusion of an arc or season of a show before the story line has concluded in the manga, that being said the final part of Twilight Goodbye makes me nervous for a couple of reasons.

One, kind of wild that it progresses to a big super-powered fight only a few hours after the conclusion of the last arc. Not that BSD hasn't done something similar before, but this seems like a bit of a rush for the timeline. I will hold my extended worries on this for now. It reminds me of the Bad Apple story line and how quickly all of that plays out. Perhaps this will proceed similarly? Though with how many characters are in focus right now we can't be entirely sure.

Two, this mystery character seems quite powerful and is seen wielding the "space-time sword" that Fukuchi had previously been using. I can't help but notice that this mysterious figure also looks a lot like Fukuchi. Same scars on the face, same hair. I am not saying it is him, but I think that him being the 'final?' enemy of this story line would interfere with a lot of the meaning infused into the end of the current arc. I sincerely hope that its not him, but I would be interested to see where everything goes if it Fukuchi.

Lastly, I do truly hope that this is the intended direction of the story moving forward for Asagiri's sake. I don't think Studio Bones would conclude or move on with a story without more of the manga being written. They tend to be more patient than other studios when it comes to waiting for enough material for new seasons. That being said, season four and five did not necessarily need to be produced separately and back to back. Then again, I am not that familiar with the inner workings of the Anime industry. In conclusion, I just hope that this is genuinely what the author intended and that whatever is made moving forward carries the spirit of BSD as it has been portrayed so far.

[liselicanis]

Good Things Fall Apart

[AO3 Link] [Ch. 1][Ch.2][Ch.3][Ch.4]

Chapter 5: Come Morning We Wake From This Dream

It was a steady progress to finish working on her silent omnic friend. Well, she considered him a friend, if he thought the same, Hana wouldn't know, but he only made noises in response to some things she said now. A good sign? She certainly hoped so.

He still didn't move even after she and Dae-Hyun finished his legs, the omnic simply laid there, causing her much confusion until her mechanic explained that he probably needed time to adjust to his limbs and hardwire them to the rest of his circuitry.

"Kinda like your arm and leg I guess? When those," he motioned to her casts, "come off next week they'll probably feel weird to you, you know?" he joked and gave her a small poke to her shoulder.

Hana laughed along with him. "I can't wait. It's been so...bleh without being able to use them. And sometimes they itch like crazy, like you can't imagine."

Her casts coming off also meant that she could wear her cuter clothes again. Not that she was a fashionista but just having to wear short sleeves and shorts had been an annoyance. Even with the heaters on, sometimes it got a little nippy in the workshop.

Huh. Clothes.

"You know, it doesn't feel right to uhm..." she glanced over at the omnic and then back to Dae-Hyun. "...have him..."

Wow, it was a struggle to get the words out. Or maybe it was because Dae-Hyun was a guy? If Yuna was standing in his place would she have been able to say it without restraint?

"Have him what? Naked?"

Oh thank goodness. She didn't have to say it. Most of the omnics that she had come across aside from the Gwishin (who were distinctly not humanoid looking) preferred clothing. When she had found him, he had had some rags on, but because of the damage he had sustained, they were nigh unusable.

She nodded, her face a little bit pink and Dae-Hyun rubbed his neck and shrugged. "Well, I don't know about that. He kinda talks to you, right? Maybe ask him?" He had seen them 'communicate' before. Hisses and crackling. They had offered to fix his voicebox but then he made terrible screeching noises at the motion.

He didn't want it fixed. At least not by them it seemed. After that, Dae-Hyun kind of stopped trying to talk with the omnic. It seemed he preferred Hana, even if it wasn't by much. He honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

Shaking her head, Hana instead gave him a light shove. "NO! You do it. This is...a guy thing. Yeah! A guy thing!"

It was Dae-Hyun's turn to feel his cheeks grow warm. What did she mean a guy thing? He was a human and that 'guy' was an omnic. There was a difference there! The only reason they had concluded that their friend here was male was because Hana kept asking until she had received the answer she had been looking for.

And because of that, it had been Dae-Hyun who had been tasked with working on the R-7000's legs. And boy had that been difficult. None of the pictures they had managed to dig out from old archives were good enough with details, and while they did have the one mangled leg to go off on, there were parts missing that seemed essential to this particular omnic. The 'claws' for example.

What purpose did they serve? What terrains was this guy crossing that needed claws of all things? But, since that's what what he had had, then that's what he and Hana gave him. To the best of their ability.

Clothing on the other hand....

There was no denying that this guy was big. Easily towering over the two of them. So what kind of clothing would best suit him? Dae-Hyun stroked his chin, trying to picture what best would fit the omnic. Or at the very least his bottom half so then maybe Hana would stop feeling embarrassed.

What the reason for this was, he did not really want to think about.

"Dae-Hyun?"

Side-eyeing his long time friend, the mechanic sighed. "I'll try. No promises though. I don't think he likes me very much." He then stepped forward to where the omnic lay, not really prepared for the uncomfortable questions he was about to ask. Would he even answer him?

Well, only one way to find out.

"Do you uh...want clothing of any kind? Pants? Shirt? We could uh...try a hanbok?" He waited for a response and then looked back at Hana who gave him a thumbs up. The omnic didn't respond and just when he was about to give up, there was a hesitant crackle.

All right, finally getting somewhere. "Okay, you do? Would you mind making that noise again to what you'd prefer?"

-

They settled on just pants for now though getting them on the omnic would most likely fall to Dae-Hyun's hands again. Just had to find material fitting to the omnic's liking, which well...good luck to you on that, Hana.

She took it up on herself to look up DIY holovids on sewing and needlework. From his time being her best friend, Dae-Hyun knew she had a particular habit of adding a very 'D.Va' touch to things. When she had given him a jacket as a congratulatory gift for entering MEKA with her, she had made sure to iron on as many D.Va and Tokki patches on it as she could get away with. He still wore it proudly on colder days.

Like tonight. He promised her that he would guard their friend tonight so that she could actually get some rest. The dark circles under her eyes had grown so noticeable that when she had been in the team kitchen earlier, Kyung-Soo had mentioned them, telling her to take it easy.

That had led to a small argument over bad sleeping habits that ended in a long winded lecture about the importance of sleep, so she is (reluctantly) spending the night in her own room. Which is honestly a lot better than sleeping here.

He surveyed the dark room, the only light coming from her monitors. The omnic had seemingly powered down, as Dae-Hyun did not see any small pinpricks of red light that served as that guy's vision receptors. Or at least, that's what he thinks they are. The omnic never allowed them to remove his faceplate, so he couldn't say for sure.

So he sat in Hana's chair and opened a new tab on her browser to mindlessly scroll through video sites and the like, completely oblivious to the omnic he was meant to watch.

-

In truth, adjusting to his new limbs wasn't as time consuming as he had previously thought. It had taken only an hour or so, but Ramattra decided to play the part of still being the patient, if only to observe the human girl for a bit longer.

Her embarrassment of not wanting to touch him now of all times after she had basically fondled everywhere else was laughable. So she did know what shame was after all.

His only obstacle now was the human sitting over there, his attention on whatever drivel he was watching on the screens in front of him. Too easy.

He'd have to be careful though, too much force and the human would perish, not enough and he might sound an alarm. While normally he'd have zero qualms about ending this human's life what made him reconsider his decision was the girl and the memory of her tearful face.

Not to mention this man did also help repair him. And he was't going to be so ungrateful as to metaphorically bite the hand that had helped him. For not at least. A kindness owed.

In three steps he was behind the human, who was still momentarily distracted but it didn't take long for him to feel something was off. The human turned and before he could make any noise, Ramattra covered his face with his hand, blocking the human's airways until hiss movements slowed.

As soon as he made sure the human male was in fact unconscious, Ramattra picked up a few tools and set about repairing his voicebox. As if he'd ever allow anyone other than himself to touch such an important part of himself to repair it.

If he had had more time he'd fix more but the Ravager was pressed for time. So instead, he went back to the screens and looked through them until he finally found what he was looking for. A map of this place. Perfect.

He committed it to his memory banks and left the room, moving as quietly as he could until finally, he stopped at a door that was detailed in the most obnoxious pink he had ever seen in his life. So very...her.

Even the keypad was slightly decorated. Not that he'd need it, this technology, while impressive, was still child's play to him. The door soundlessly slid open and he stepped into what felt like a closet.

This...this was were she slept? Barely a hole in the wall. He had to slouch as he was far too tall to stand upright in her space. How out of place must he look in here, an intruder in the one spot where she should be at ease?

The girl was in her bed, a long sheet of fabric just barely held in her hands. There was a video on display on her monitor, though paused, titled 'DIY Sewing'.

Ah, so she was going to make him clothing? He recalled the questions his friend had asked earlier about what his preferences were. He didn't really care. This was his natural state and he wasn't bothered by it in the slightest. Clothing only served as a temporary barrier to the forces of nature.

Even so, he softly tugged at the fabric she was holding so as not to wake, taking note of the small rabbit pins she had attached to it, probably to hold seams in place until she got to them.

He picked them off one by one until he got to the last one and he decided to leave it as is. Something to remember her by.

'You have my thanks, girl. I will not forget this nor you.'

"Thanks for th' love..." she murmured, hugging a bunny shaped pillow closer to her chest, her body curling around it. Ramattra stayed his hand just inches from her head. No, she wasn't awake. Talking in her sleep?

"Hmm." He doesn't have time to ponder this. Soon the sun will rise and leaving will become more difficult. His sensors don't pick any movement in the close vicinity so he should go. Now.

The last thing he does for her is cover her with her bedsheet, just as she had done for him before. And without another glance back, he leaves, draping the fabric around his torso as a makeshift cloak.

He doesn't know if he'll meet this girl again, but for now he has a keepsake, a small reminder that should they ever meet again, be it by chance or in battle, he'll return her kindness tenfold.

-

The missing cloth is the furthest thing on her mind when she wakes in the morning. She had been dreaming about...urgh. What was it again? A large staff tilting her head up and a large figure looming over her, but she couldn't see who or what it was. Yet it had felt familiar.

It was nearly forgotten about as Hana went into the communal bathroom to do her morning routine. Brush her teeth, comb her hair, the usual. She forgoes breakfast, wanting to get back to the omnic and see how he was doing. Had he adjusted to his limbs yet? Would he be okay to walk?

As soon as she's within sight of her workshop door, she senses something is off. The door is open. Huh? It shouldn't be. Not while the omnic is there. Someone could see! Hobbling as fast as her cast leg would allow her, Hana stepped through the threshold and stopped in her tracks.

"Dae-Hyun!"

He's lying on the floor and she instantly goes to him, checking his pulse but thankfully he's still breathing. Her eyes darted around, trying to check for any dangers but she finds none, until they land on the empty table. The omnic is gone. Where...where was he?

"Nngh...." the sound of her friend's voice has her turning her gaze back to him. He's coming to and there is a dazed look in his eyes. "Ha....na? Hana!"

He grabs her by the shoulders, his eyes wild and she winces when his fingers press just a little too hard. He doesn't seem to notice as he also looks around, trying to make sense of what's going on. "He...did he attack you?"

She has a sneaking suspicion that she knows who this 'he' is, but she doesn't want to believe it. Even though the proof is literally in front of her. Instead she shakes her head and then gently removes his hands from her. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: I’m scarred for life after reading The Sun and the Star but I’ll just let you know I am now one chapter away from concluding the writing of this fic, what a pain in the ass tbh -Danny

Words: 1,003

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘All For Us’ -by Labrinth ft. Zendaya

xviii: Treason

"So, what happened?"

"He wants to go to war with the surface world... and asked me to help him. I need to think."

Riri fell back on her seat in distress. "We ain't never gettin' out of here."

"Shuri..." Cat said, not sure how to express herself. "Namor's offer... it could benefit me."

The girl looked at her in disbelief. "You're not considering it?"

"He's offering us protection, and that's exactly what I'm looking for! Forget about the suit, he can help me kill Kraven before he kills me! Namor is a mutant, he shares my worries—"

"What about the part where he's planning to go to war with the rest of the world?"

Cat frowned, her expression was bitter. "What have they done for me? They experimented on my people, they enslaved yours. The rest ignored us. Why would I fight for them?"

"Cat, it's not about who you would fight for. Is who you're willing to lose," Shuri said. "Your brother got killed in a war—"

"That's—"

"More people than you're mindful of would follow you into battle, and they would all be walking to their deaths. You're an excellent fighter, but the people who love you... think it through..."

Cat wavered, Pietro was always a sensitive subject, and her friends were always the right way to get to her. Shuri was right, many people would follow her into battle, and most of them... their chances of surviving were very low. A noise distracted them, Cat looked over her shoulder and found a Wakandan soldier pointing a gun at the guard that was keeping an eye on them.

"Drop your spear!" She demanded.

"Kill the Princess!" The guard ordered.

The woman shot at the Talokan woman, and Cat's insides twisted in terror. The younger girl grabbed Shuri and pressed a knife against their throat.

"Drop your knife." The woman aimed her weapon at her.

"You... You killed her!" The girl said shakily.

"Let her go and you don't have to die."

"Shuri, tell her to drop the gun," Cat warned her.

"Shuri..." the woman said, "move your left arm."

The princess froze in shock, it appeared that she had no idea what was happening, and she didn't understand how one of her warriors had made it this far without being seen. The woman shot without warning.

"NO!"

The girl fell. Shuri and Cat knelt next to her.

"Are you okay?" The princess inquired with urgency.

"Are you okay?" The warrior asked, getting to them.

"Give me your Beads!" Shuri demanded.

"Let's go!"

"Give me your Beads! I can save her!" Shuri pressed desperately.

"We have to go!"

"Girls, I don't know who this lady is, but we need to listen to her!" Riri said anxiously.

"Listen, I hit her with a sonic round, it is lethal from this distance," the woman explained hurriedly. "There is no chance."

"How could you?" Cat said in outrage. If there was one thing she'd always kept as a constant, was that she never hurt children. This surpassed her one and only limit.

"You don't understand," Shuri insisted. "This will mean war!"

"We have to go," the woman replied without listening to her.

"Wait!" Shuri was dragged up.

"Copy, get moving!" Riri urged her.

Cat lifted the girl's knife and held it tightly. "No."

The woman tried to talk some sense into her. "Kid, they'll kill you—"

She looked at them, pointing at the woman with the knife. "If she stays here a second longer, Shuri, I will kill her."

"Cat..." Shuri said, unsure of what was going on.

"I'll stay."

Copycat stabbed her own leg, crying out and falling to her knees.

"Cat!"

"Get out!" The mutant threw the knife and it pierced the woman's gun. "I... I'll stay... one of us needs to stay and stop them from causing a massacre..."

"Fine! You want to die here, it's your choice," the woman told her, forcing Shuri to abandon the cave.

"Cat!" Shuri yelled as she was dragged away.

"Trust me," Cat winced, the smell of blood was grossing her out. "I'm a good liar."

The group ran out, and Cat turned her attention to the young girl. M.O.U.S.E. was out of line, but she had enough experience patching up wounds on her own. With a quick inspection of the injury she determined the woman hadn't lied, the girl was beyond saving.

"Look at me," she told the girl. "You will be okay in a minute. Close your eyes... go on..."

Cat took off the girl's mask slowly, her hands were shaking, she'd never killed a child before, it was the one thing she swore she'd never do. The girl began to choke on the air, then she stopped moving. Copycat put the mask back on.

"C'mon C.C..." Cat lifted a hand and scratched her own face with two claws. Cat cried out loud, then she got up and made a bigger mess in the cave so it looked like a huge fight had taken place.

A few guards heard the commotion and found her over the girl, at first they thought she was attacking her, and they almost killed her, but Cat managed to make herself heard. She was injured and unarmed. Now she was back with Namor and Namora, and they were interrogating her.

"Who did this?"

"A Wakandan," Cat replied, eyes fixed on the table. "Shuri didn't know the woman was there, so it must've been the Queen who sent her."

"Why did you stay?" Namora asked, she didn't trust her. "To finish the job?"

Her heart skipped a beat, now was the moment to win their trust.

"My place is not with them," Cat said with anger seeping through her voice. "I'm a lot of things, but I've never laid a finger on a child. Never. Shuri dreams of a world where we all live in peace... but if you want something done, you make it happen. Dreaming it isn't enough."

"Has your loyalty shifted?" Namor asked with an unreadable expression.

"I'm only loyal to mutants. Humans are selfish. You were right." She looked straight into his eyes, the cloak around her shoulders felt heavier under Namor's gaze. "Your war is my war."

Namor pushed forward the knife she'd had in her possession when they'd taken her to Talokan. "You have made the right choice, Co'kat."

"It's an honor, K'uk'ulkan."

Next chapter—>

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[katia-dreamer]

Trick! (Cassandra/Percy sibling bonding)

Percy's workshop is always uncomfortably hot, so Cassandra usually stays away from there.

But not today.

She lingers in the doorway for a few moments, watching her brother work. He is completely focused on what he's doing. His movements are calculated and careful, almost elegant. It would be more impressive if she weren't in such a foul mood.

"Percival?"

Percy turns to look at her; his ridiculous mask obscures his face. For a moment, she sees a ghost of her past staring at her. Then, thankfully, he removes it, revealing his very flushed face. "Cassandra?"

"I came to talk to you about an interesting conversation I had with Keeper Yennen this afternoon."

"I see," he says calmly, but she can see his fingers twitching at his side. "What was that about?"

"A lot of things, but it concluded with me finding out you got married." Percy drops the Residuum glass in his hand, which shatters on the floor. He mutters several colorful curses, but she ignores them. "So, it's true."

"Why did that even come up? It was supposed to be a secret."

"Does it matter? Percy, how could you not tell me?"

"To be fair, no one else knows either."

Cassandra bends over and carefully picks up all the little pieces of glass on the floor and puts them on the desk, which is challenging considering that there are papers strewn everywhere. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out?"

"No."

"I'm not going to lie. I am furious with you. You and I have hurt each other many times," she pauses, letting her words sink in, "but if we want a chance at healing, we need to trust each other. At least a little."

Percy removes the mask and sets it on the desk next to the shattered glass. "Of course, you're right. I'm sorry, Cass."

"You'd better be."

"How can I make it up to you?"

"I'll think of something."

"I'm sure you will."

There's a pause, but it's much less tense now. Cass says, "I am happy for you, Percy."

"Thank you."

Then she steps forward and hugs him. He's hot and sweaty and gross. But she forces herself not to step away. After all, it wasn't every day that your brother got married. "The de Rolo family is growing."

"Yes, it is."

She's half tempted to give a snappy response, but she catalogs it in her brain for later.

-

part of katie's trick or treat