#its one thing to write about it being integrated into his past

[mxfrodo]

y'all for fucking real. don't fucking write slave fics or x reader fics of aventurine's slavery??? are you guys out of your goddamn minds???

[fras-redacted-shapes]

Time is weird within the Oldest House

Spoilers for Alan Wake 2 and slight speculation for Control 2

Alright so. According to Estevez, HQ went dark and while she gives no hint as for how long it's been like that, it's safe to assume it's been four years due to how consistent the each Remedy game has been about the years they take place on.

Besides that, nothing is ever hinted at what's going on with the FBC's headquarters.

We know now time loops and spirals inside the Dark Place and that changes done there can bleed into reality (Jesse being told by a psychiatrist Zane is a filmmaker and not a poet, as she remembered him).

From the AWE DLC we know Jesse briefly witnessed Alan meeting Zane ("The Meeting" from now on), which came full circle in AW2.

From this event it's not unreasonable to assume two things:

1. The Meeting happened back in 2019.

The AWE DLC takes place before the ending of Control's and Foundation's story. This can be seen in the reports Emily writes about the new hiss enemies introduced in each dlc.

For the one introduced in AWE her title is still Research Specialist.

For the one in Foundation, her title is Head of Research. (also she got her Doctorate, you go girl!)

If this is holds up, Alan's timeline in AW2 has been bouncing back and forth way back from 2023.

Or, if you want a headache, even farther back given his role in Tom the Poet which came out before Zane disappeared. This is the poster in the Suomi Hall in Watery.

There's no hint yet if this change/addition of Alan writing a novel that inspired the film has made it past Watery and Bright Falls into the real world or was cleared at the end of the game.

This would also mean Ahti has been on vacations for four years.

2. The Meeting happened in 2023.

At the end of AWE dlc Langston says they're receiving an AWE alert from Cauldron Lake that is set a few years into the future. But is it?

What if it's actually the present, my dear beautiful Langston?

This would be consistent with the lack of any visual indication of the passage of time during the main story. There's none. And then, the Foundation DLC ends, and we see Dylan has grown hair and a beard.

Cute. But you know, Remedy has weaponized easter eggs. So no, I don't think Mr. comatose baldy growing a beard is a cute little detail they spent resources on.

We know by the time The Meeting takes place, Alan has not gotten out of the Dark Place yet, hence the alarm has not been activated (it goes off in the FBC monitoring station as soon as Alan/Scratch is transported back to the shore where Saga meets him for the first time).

If this holds up, then the timeline is more or less like this:

Ahti lets Jesse into the Oldest House in October 29th, 2019.

While Jesse is dealing with the Hiss, Alan unlocks Investigation Sector in the elevator.

Alan Meets Zane .

Jesse gets a glimpse of The Meeting.

Ahti gives Jesse his cassette players, goes on vacation.

Alan/Scratch gets out of the Dark Place (September 13th, 2023).

The AWE alarm sounds - and the signal made it into the Oldest House (September 13th, 2023).

Jesse takes down the Projector and deals with the Nail.

Dylan has grown hair.

Between point 4 and 5 more time could've passed, otherwise those are some short vacations for Ahti, it sounds like he's been in Watery for a while.

Therefore, during Control's main story, time was halted or passed very, very slowly when compared to the world outside.

How come?

With Remedy integrating their own alternate version of Quantum Break they might as well start using some of its harder science fiction approach. Alan has already mentioned the Dark Place as Dark Matter in one of his rambling videos. And well, this seems to have been the plan all along. From the chalkboard in Quantum Break:

There's been no text about black holes or matter density affecting space-time in any game as far as I remember. However, the imagery has been there with the Dark Presence vortex and certain images looking like event horizons.

So this is pure speculation:

The Oldest House is massive, it shifts, it expands and contracts. Could it be dense enough to affect space-time? could it do this on command?

It could be so dense that to those within its walls it'd seem like little to no time has passed, while outside at least four years have gone by.

The entire story is written in present tense in the missions menu, even after a mission has been completed (and the way the collectibles/mission menu was integrated as a world-building element with the Mind Place in Alan Wake 2, I don't think this was meant to be a cute weird little detail even back then).

Something happened during or after the events in the Foundation dlc, something shifted and now time is passing more or less normally. Or at least it is showing its effects on people.

Alice was seemingly cleansed from the effects the Dark Place had over her memory as soon she was brought inside the Oldest House. It's not unreasonable to assume this effect expands to protecting those within (those that are not too far gone, like Hartman). So the Oldest House would deal with time in its own terms, while the Dark Presence could make retroactive changes to certain details in the reality outside of it, like Zane going from poet to filmmaker.

Dylan's hair growth would indicate a month or two have passed at the very least by the end of Foundation. And from the one Control 2 concept art that has been shown so far, there are orange leaves in the pavement.

So Remedy could be planning to lift he lock-down during autumn. Autumn of what year? Heh, that's gonna be a fun one to find out.

-

As a counterpoint one could point at the game cinematic shots of the Oldest House from outside, they're always set at night across the story. It's just a detail that could've easily be a result of resource constraints. Yeah, not that it implies the story could've happened within one night.

Like with the clocks! You can point out at time being weird inside the Oldest House because none of the clocks are working! Time is literally frozen teehee, static textures on 3D assets, except for uh

Darling's Office in Central Research? Is that-

IS IT

IT'S WORKING

WHY DID YOU DO THIS REMEDY?

STOP-

(WE GET IT REMEDY, YOU'VE BEEN PLANNING IT ALL ALONG AND WHEN EVERYTHING IS LAID OUT IN CANON WE'LL FEEL SILLY BECAUSE THE HINTS WHERE THERE, IN OUR FACES, ALL THIS TIME)

-

Or you know, Control 2 will deal with the main cast enduring years of lock-down and the concept art is actually the end or middle of the game, and everyone exits the building on the year Control 2 releases.

Kind of lame in my opinion, but would make sense I guess.

-

Of course, there's another possibility I don't feel like following through:

The Dark Presence succeeded in changing the entire world and only The Oldest House and those inside remained intact. I mean, Dylan's easter egg in Foundation has some images

(that better not be a frozen ocean NO)

(NO, do not tell me this is the Huotari Well omg)

Hiss/Dark Presence became besties

And maybe, count Dylan's cut Hotline call. But that's cut content so strictly speaking, not canon (imagine it gets restored between Alan Wake 2 dlcs and the next Control game haha).

-

There are some things that should be brought full circle about the AWE dlc.

Alan is already aware of the FBC thanks to Estevez and Alice.

The sound fx aspect of the Hiss chant is basically lifted from the Cult of the Tree chanting (or you know, if you want another headache, it could be the other way around). And there are hints of verses from the Hiss incantation said out loud here and there. So pre-existing elements to give shape to a dadaist poem attributed to a hostile extra-dimensional resonance complete!

Has he yet come across the information from the FBC, that Hartman became a Taken?

He also kind of knows about the general plot of Control given he wrote a screenplay for an episode of Night Springs that was never produced.

It became clearer that Alan doesn't write whole new things or realities from scratch (shut up), that he writes from "visions" and vivid "nightmares" he's had. If that screenplay is a vision of the future of the events within the Oldest House, then that could be it.

However we haven't seen him become aware or gain knowledge of Polaris or Jesse herself beyond her extremely brief appearance during The Meeting.

This information has yet to make it outside the Oldest House (as far as we know) and only Dylan and Emily know about Polaris so far. Ahti too, maybe?

Sure, Alan could've somehow glimpsed something through the Oceanview Motel, he's got a door there anyways and he's gone through the Dark Place version of it (the Hotel), but this has not been made explicit like The Meeting.

Maybe The Lake House dlc will clear up that connection.

I mean yeah, that'd be fitting.

Don't forget one of the cut pieces from Control was The Oldest House opening a passage to Ahti's cabin in Finland, so The Oldest House being able to making an opening to Cauldon Lake is in Remedy's toolbox.

(I also think it'd be fair to see more of Jesse since Alan got a whole new 3D model in Control's AWE)

-

I'm missing a lot of things here I'm sure, I put this together more or less from things off the top of my head. I haven't gone through Control in a while so there are probably a more and clearer hints regarding time shenanigans within the Oldest House.

Also, AW2 timeline needs to be put on a wall to make sense of it. It'd look like a spiral, because of course.

[makeyoumine69]

My Lovely Detective I

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Detective!OC

— CO-WRITER: @iron-flavored-lipgloss

— SUMMARY: Being a detective in New York was pretty hard, and being a woman detective was even harder, but not for Andrea Moore. Despite the fact that she lived the life of an average American without any luxury or wealth, she loved her job, her life and her boyfriend, who always supported her. One day, her boss — Detective Kimball — assigned her to a case regarding the disappearance of a very rich man from Wall Street named Paul Allen, and her first task became to interrogate the man who was suspected to be connected to it. From that moment on, Andrea would have to reveal what secrets were hidden behind the perfect facade of Patrick Bateman...

— CONTAINS: Swearing, misogyny, mind manipulation, mild seduction.

— WORDS: 2.4k

— A/N: Me and my dear friend @iron-flavored-lipgloss have been working on this writing project for quite a while and now it's finally here! Feel free to share your opinion, we hope you like it!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [AO3}.

Pierce & Pierce

The first impression I got when I stepped into the glass box called P&P office was the unprecedented atmosphere of wealth and elitism I'd never experienced before. It only confirmed Donald Kimball's statements about Wall Street and its special aura that consumes you from the moment you enter the space where arrogant yuppies rush past you without paying attention, even if they push you painfully on your shoulder.

Today, I had to interrogate one of the vice presidents of Pierce & Pierce, his name was Patrick Bateman and Detective Kimball - my boss - had a very strange opinion about this guy and he made me aware to be careful and attentive to the things he would say. And I didn't know why my heart was beating so fast when it was such a common thing for me to interrogate someone, but once I got to the right floor and went into Bateman's office I saw a beautiful blonde woman who was supposed to be his assistant. Her name was Jean and she asked me to wait a bit before she sneaked into Patrick's office to ask him if he was not super busy.

One minute, two minutes...

I was getting more and more nervous the longer I waited, but luckily for me, Jean appeared almost as I was about to start digging my nails into my skin; she politely asked me to come in.

With deliberate movements, I entered the fashionable office to see a handsome man sitting at the wooden desk, his brown hair with a golden hue slicked back, and the moment he raised his eyes to me, I felt a tight knot form in my stomach.

"This is Detective Andrea Moore," Jean introduced me with a friendly smile. "Can I get you some coffee?" She asked immediately, but her question wasn't addressed to me as I noticed her devoted gaze on the brown-haired man who still hadn't said a word.

For Patrick Bateman, there was little to distinguish one workday from the other. Everything went in pleasantly bland and repetitive cycles: arriving at the office (impeccably styled from head to toe like any self-respecting yuppie, but still a little sleeker than everyone else, he reassured himself), the new release by whatever popular band was blaring in his headphones. With world economic news on the TV and a crossword puzzle to complete, he told Jean to cancel unnecessary meetings every morning.

But not today. 

There was a moment of irritation when Jean declared that there was an unexpected visitor waiting outside his office. A detective, she said, but this time it wasn't Kimball, and this additional information was what really started to bother Patrick. 

He had to make an effort to manipulate Kimball, sure that the man would finally believe in his integrity and drop the 'Paul Allen' case.‘Maybe I need to get my lawyer involved, maybe money needs to be paid to solve this.' The door opened again, this time Jean led the detective in, and in an instant a wave of relief washed over Patrick. He dismissed Jean with a smile that was almost natural to him by now. He let her go and then turned his eyes back to the woman in front of him. ‘A female detective... If they exchanged Kimball with her, for whatever reason, my situation can't be that bad.’ Patrick let his eyes glide over her body, his confidence returning with every second. Aside from her sex, this person truly presented a different image than Kimball. Illuminated by the morning sun, her suit shimmered in a way that only cheap polyester could. ‘What a feeble attempt to demand respect,’ Patrick thinks with mild disgust. Despite its loose cut, the suit did little to hide her voluptuous figure. 'Nice tits. Could be an hourglass figure if it weren't for the fat around her waist.' 

Disinterested, he focused again on her face, framed by brown and unruly curls - another flaw in his book. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss ...?" Patrick asked in a tone of false pleasantness, but with a face that didn't betray much happiness. He didn't remember her name very well either, even though Jean had said it just a few seconds ago.

"Miss Moore," she replied briefly, taking a seat across from his desk. At first the woman reached out to shake his hand, but then she pulled back. "Detective Donald Kimball has decided to let me continue his investigation into Paul Allen's disappearance," Andrea paused to retrieve the notebook and pen from her bag. "We have another missing persons case."

Though her voice sounded confident and stern, there was a turmoil of emotions raging within her, but the woman managed to regain her composure. God, why was reality so cruel to her? When Kimball had given her this case, he had never mentioned what Bateman looked like, and that had made Andrea think that Patrick was a typical middle-aged banker, but she had been so fucking wrong that now she felt embarrassed and nervous, and her hands were shaking slightly. 

"According to my information, you were seeing a woman named Bethany not too long ago," the detective looked at Patrick while he made some notes. "You were studying at Harvard together. Is that correct?"

‘She has an exotic look to her, despite the last name. A "first generation raised outside East Harlem" kind of vibe, ' Patrick thought dismissively.  ‘Girls like her have a lot to prove, and they always bring that insecurity into the conversation. They cover it up by acting all masculine and bossy.’ 

It wasn't lost on him how her fingers trembled as she reached for the notebook, and that was the only reason the mention of Bethany's name didn't worry him for the moment. Perhaps Paul was having an affair with her? New York's elite is a small world. 

Right now, this interview was nothing more than an inconvenience for him. "That's true. But really, our relationship ended after graduation. I also can't help but wonder how any of this relates to Paul Allen. At least that was the topic of conversation with Detective Kimball."

'What a smug son of a bitch.' The detective didn't flinch, her face devoid of emotion despite the storm brewing inside. "You see, sometimes we work with the police to help find missing persons," she explained, unbuttoning her jacket to reveal a simple blue blouse underneath. "A few weeks ago it was reported that a woman named Bethany Simmons had disappeared under strange circumstances, but before that she had dined with you. Her hairdresser confirmed it."

A sudden power shift in the conversation made Andrea feel a little more confident as she detected a slight tension in the way Bateman frowned.

"What happened after dinner, Mr. Bateman?" The woman asked insistently, pen in hand, ready to catch every word the man was about to give her. "Maybe you can tell us where Bethany is now?"

Patrick couldn't help but feel his body stiffen at Detective Moore's words before he forced himself to lean back in his chair - just keeping up the pretense of casualness. 

"We met for a late dinner, nothing more. After that we parted ways, I would have assumed she went home. But this is really disturbing to hear."

Mimicking a sad expression, Patrick studied the woman across from him intensely. Maybe he needed to be careful. Kimball had a different attitude, one that Patrick already began to miss because of its familiarity. 

‘Why so aggressive with this lack of hard evidence? A hairdresser... Believe a hairdresser over the testimony of a vice president of a leading Wall Street firm! I bet she just hates men.’

And yet his eyes lingered on her now exposed blouse.

The detective was about to check the time, but when she noticed the gold Rolex on Bateman's wrist, she somehow changed her mind, not wanting to reveal her cheap watch.

"Okay," she smiled suddenly and put her notebook on her lap. "May I ask about your relationship with Bethany? Maybe she shared some concerns with you during that dinner? Did she think she was in danger? Maybe someone was threatening her?" Andrea asked with undisguised interest in the case she was investigating. "I know that Mr. Kimball had a conversation with Bethany's fiancé..."

The sudden pause hung in the air like a suffocating rope around Patrick's neck.

'He's lying, I can feel it.' The woman grinned wider and made some notes. "I really hope you'll give me some information so I don't have to deal with your lawyer. People in your circle always like to do that." Andrea fixed her curly locks that tried to block her vision. "But I understand how busy you are."

Hidden under the desk from the detective's watchful eyes, Patrick's fingers began to dig into his thigh. Oh, how he wished it was her neck instead. 

How much information could Bethany's fiancé really have? No, this seemed more like a strategy to make him panic, and yet it was starting to work in a way. 

"Oh, I don't see any need to get a lawyer involved. These questions are only reasonable," Patrick fought to maintain the image of an innocent man and gave the most sympathetic smile his tense muscles could muster. "She didn't mention anything specific, but you know. She had a tendency to meet up casually with different men, so who knows where she went after our dinner. I'm not sure how informed her boyfriend is about that either. As for me and her - we were just catching up for old times' sake.”

At this point, Patrick started to seriously think about what had happened to Bethany's body.

Andrea did her best to catch up with Bateman's comments, writing them down with calculated precision. Then she massaged her temples shortly - a clear sign of her tired state. "You said Bethany was seeing other men...do you think she might be unfaithful to her fiancé?" The detective asked suddenly, arching her eyebrow in a thoughtful manner as cogs began to turn in her head. "Also, do you know her boyfriend? Could he be dangerous to Bethany?"

The woman didn't even notice her foot tapping on the floor, the adrenaline from the current conversation coursing through her veins, and that was the strongest drug for her.

"Have you been having an affair with Bethany behind his back? That can be a motive for him to commit a crime, you know what I mean?" She murmured in a suddenly low voice, her throat was dry from tension, but she didn't dare ask for water. A muffled rustling of city life could be heard in the moment of silence and the woman hoped that Patrick couldn't hear her fast heartbeat.

Maybe it was the way she looked at him (tired? dismissive? annoyed?), but something inside him shifted. Suddenly, Patrick found himself dangerously overwhelmed by irritation at her audacity and bold questioning, more than anything else.

"It was her who invited me, and during our time together she was clearly trying to make a move. Well, she didn't get what she wanted out of that dinner. I'm engaged myself, you know."

‘She thinks she's so smart, but if we had met under different circumstances, in a club for example, she would be throwing herself at me right now.’

"You said it yourself, I have a very busy lifestyle," and with a playful glance at his Rolex, Patrick continued. "But I'm making time for you, willing to prove good intentions. And all I can say is that I knew Bethany better when we were together. I'm unfamiliar with her exact current situation and fiancé."

Beyond the carefully curated faux friendliness, he leaned forward and looked deeply into Detective Moore's dark eyes. 

"But if a woman in a committed relationship looks at other men the way she looked at me that night - her boyfriend can't be good. Wouldn't that be the logical conclusion?"

His unexpectedly brazen remark made Andrea's jaw clench in anger. "Maybe after we find Bethany, you can ask her that question."

The woman tried to hide her annoyance as his words found some resonance within her - Bateman was an utterly handsome man, it was foolish and stupid to try to argue with that fact, though that didn't mean the detective had to admit it either.

"Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Bateman," the woman muttered and tucked her things back into her bag. " I will take some time researching information and discussing it with Mr. Kimball. I think we can meet here in a week or...maybe at a café?" The woman's expression didn't change even when she realized what she had just said. "I don't want to bother Jean and the people in here," Andrea tried to shake off her nervousness. "But this is all up to you."

Patrick raised his eyebrows, taking her sudden desire to leave as a success on his part. "Why do you say you bother Jean? This is her job. But if there is any way I can help you with your research, please do."

He held one of his business cards out to her, his attitude now almost charming.

‘Of course she wants to meet me for dinner. Like all the women I've met, huh?’

 "Call this number and Jean will discuss a convenient time and date with you. I will get us a good reservation at a restaurant, for whatever topic you want to discuss with me. You see, I just don't like unannounced interruptions."

The woman took the business card and, without looking at it, quickly put it in her notebook. "See you soon, have a good day, Mr. Bateman."

With that Andrea picked up her things and got up to leave the office as soon as possible, she didn't say anything to Jean. When she was finally outside, she took a moment to breathe deeply, as if she was suffocating from lack of oxygen all the time. The pedestrians passed her like ghosts, her heartbeat pulsed in her ears and Andrea couldn't really remember being so... shocked and puzzled by any man before. 

Even in the subway all she could think about was Bateman and his pathetic attempts to deceive her and mislead her investigation. Now she had more questions than answers, and she desperately needed to talk to Mr. Kimball. ‘I'm gonna make you talk, Bateman, I'm gonna do more than that.’

[palestinegenocide]

Zionism will never be viewed the same after the Gaza genocide

How do you wrap your head around genocide? As one numb week follows another, our leaders blind themselves to massacre and famine.

Joe Biden can see no “compelling alternative to how Israel [wages] a war in these circumstances without doing grievous harm to civilians,” Aaron David Miller writes in the New York Times, excusing the president’s support for genocide. So, Israel isn’t being deliberately cruel and sadistic. The Times coverage would just have you believe they just have no choice– as Donald Johnson wrote in a letter to the paper. “There is no middle ground between what Israel is doing and Gandhian pacifism: They just had to use 2000 lb bombs in urban settings. They have to torture captives and cut off food.”

Miller and other liberal Zionists have adopted that stance, but they are having little influence on Democrats. Polls show that the American people favor giving humanitarian aid to Gaza in far greater numbers than they do giving military aid to Israel, and the progressive base of the Democratic Party has started a political “firestorm” over U.S. support for genocide. The Zionist group J Street postponed its 2024 conference, surely because its own rank and file are enraged by Israel.

James Carville said on MSNBC this week that if Biden loses, it’s Israel’s fault, because the catastrophe in Gaza is an issue “all across the country.”

“This Gaza stuff, this is not just a problem with some snot-nosed Ivy League people…This is a problem all across the country. And I hope the president and Blinken can get this thing calmed down because if it doesn’t get calmed down before the Democratic convention, it’s going to be a very ugly time in Chicago. I promise you that. No matter what happens, I know it’s a huge problem.”

Last week, Brad Sherman, the Israel-loving Congress member from Los Angeles, fought back, accusing “anti-Israel forces” of an “attempt to penetrate and muddy our national discourse.”

Protesters affiliated with the antiwar group Code Pink seek to ask Rep. Brad Sherman about his support for the massacres of Palestinians in Gaza, in a video posted March 20, 2024. The congressman from Los Angeles/Malibu ran away from the protesters and accused them of seeking the genocide of Jews. Screenshot.

Sherman accused them of antisemitism. “There’s blood on your hands for the genocide—you’re trying to kill every Jew.”

That is the chief refuge for Democrats who excuse Israel’s actions. To say that critics of genocide are motivated by antisemitism.

But even liberal media are giving a platform to progressive critics. “The United States is complicit in genocide,” Mehdi Hasan said this week on New York public radio, and when the host pushed back and said Hasan was not blaming Hamas, Hasan said of course he denounces Hamas, but his tax dollars are not going to support Hamas. He also pointed out the inevitable consequences of military occupation. “The oppressed will always rise against the oppressor.”

And in wonderful media news this week, Atlantic editor Jeffrey Goldberg withdrew from a speaking engagement in Kentucky after students questioned his record in the Israeli military nearly 40 years ago.

Jeffrey Goldberg, Editor-in-Chief of The Atlantic, withdrew from a scheduled speaking event at the University of Kentucky (UK) Wednesday, citing a last-minute schedule change, amidst concerns from students about his past as a former Israel Defense Forces (IDF) prison guard and his views on Zionism…. “We were informed that students expressed concern as to why a former IDF prison guard would be speaking on democracy and journalism at an event celebrating the integration of UK. Students were told he withdrew to not cause harm on campus,” the representative [of a Palestinian solidarity group] stated.

The event was billed as “The Future of Journalism and the Health of Our Democracy.” That’s a little bit of accountability. The editor of the Atlantic is finally being called out for his service for Israel. The writer Yakov Hirsch repeatedly explained on our site that Netanyahu could not have maintained his faultless reputation in the U.S. mainstream without Goldberg fostering “hasbara culture.”

And bear in mind, that Goldberg used to brag about his military service. He wrote a whole memoir about it. Now, times are changing. And other editors who carried water for Israel will surely be called on to defend that work.

This process is just beginning. Zionists still have esteem in the U.S. discourse. The view that Israel supporters promote bigotry against Palestinians is still off-limits. Even as mainstream Jewish organizations assert that those who support Palestinian rights are bigoted against Jews.

“Israel supporters should be seen as on the same moral level as supporters of Bull Connor, but in the U.S. and Western mainstream you can only point to antisemitism— you can never point to anti-Palestinian racism on the Israel side,” Donald Johnson has written on our site.

“We cannot make progress on this issue if the extreme racism of the pro-genocide side is never discussed. People have to be able to say that any group, whether white southerners or South Africans or Nation of Islam members or Christian evangelical Zionists or Germans or, yes, Jewish supporters of Israel, can be racists. They can make racism central to their ideology. But Zionist racism is still a taboo subject, automatically branded as antisemitic, because fundamentally Palestinians are seen as lesser.”

[americasass81]

Toys 'R' Us

Warnings 18+ for the following:- Non-Consensual Sex, Dubious Consensual Sex, Kidnapping, M/F Penetrative Sex (vag & anal), F/F Oral, M/F Oral (f receiving, everything else implied), Implied M/M, Choking, Very Mild Language, Restraints, Fingering, Fisting, Anal, Squirting, Use of Pet Names. Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason. Feedback is welcomed and any mistakes are my own.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

Pairings:- dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, dark!Tony Stark x Female Reader, dark!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Author’s Note 1: This is my submission for @jtargaryen18 Halloween Challenge 2023. Having chosen the prompt below, I’m kinda hoping I pulled it and the spooky sense of the season off.  Even if I didn't, I most definitely had fun writing this. Thank so much for hosting this delightful challenge Jamie, you’re an inspiration to so many of us here.  Hope anyone who reads this enjoys 💖

Challenge Prompt:- (The Portal in the Pumpkin: You carve one of the pumpkins Tony ordered, but this one turns out to be a portal to somewhere else...)

Author’s Note 2:- As always, all images have been found through google search.

Synopsis:- Whomever told you Halloween parties were supposed to be fun never heard of those involving Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.  What will happen when you accept an invitation to Tony Stark’s latest shindig?

Total Word Count:- 8,278

The invitation showed up in your mail just like it did every year you had worked for Tony Stark.  But this year should have been different.  Oh sure the heroes had stopped Thanos and things had pretty much gone back to normal.  But what it had cost humanity seemed to have been forgotten by everyone but you.  And here was the proof.

Looking at the red envelope with its gold writing you still couldn't believe this was happening.  Tony was dead after all.  Steve had chosen to abandon his friends and those that cared about him to live in the past with some British dame who promised him a dance but had no idea of the man he had become.  And Natasha? Well Nat had willingly sacrificed herself knowing that no power in existence could ever bring her back.

So whose idea was it then that this Halloween should be celebrated in the same fashion Tony celebrated every occasion ... with a fabulous party that people talked about long after it was over.  Opening up your door now and heading inside your home, the shocks continued to rock your system as you ripped open the envelope and pulled out the invitation you were now so used to receiving.

Except this wasn't anything like the previous ones.

Appearing now in ghostly holographic form and coupled with the time of year it was, Tony's voice sent a shiver down your spine as he reached out from beyond the grave and reminded you just how prepared he was for anything life threw his way.  "Hello darling."  Ugh there it was again you thought, that cringe worthy endearment that even in death was still such an integral part of who he was.  "If you're seeing this then I am no longer among the living, but that hardly seems like a valid reason to let my legacy crumble.  Therefore in true Tony Stark fashion," he continued with his hand upon his heart, "your presence is hereby requested at the last Stark party to be hosted by yours truly.  No need to R.S.V.P., it's not like you would deny a dead man's last request after all."

Watching now as he winked back at you before the recording disappeared and left you on your own once again, you dropped onto the couch behind you and tried to think through your options.  You hated parties after all.  In all honesty it had to be the only part of being Tony Stark's assistant that really grated on you.  Long hours.  Tedious requests.  His never ending flirtatious ramblings.  All of these you took in your stride and even laughed off some of them.  But these parties were definitely something you could do without.

Which you figured was why Tony always insisted you show up.  Mixing with humanity was, according to someone who preferred to bury himself with machines, the only way to experience all the thrills life had to offer.  God even now the thought of Tony lecturing you on always choosing books over partying made your eyes roll.  He really knew how to annoy you it seemed.

Yet even in death, the man still had a point.

You could never deny him anything in life and you weren't about to cheat him out of his last request now.  No matter how painful it would be to attend knowing that the man of the hour wasn't going to be there, you would always show up for him.  Giving one last look at the invitation now and acknowledging that you at least had two day to prepare for this blessed event, you then headed off to bed and figured tomorrow would give you plenty of time to track down something suitable to wear.  After all one couldn't show up to a Stark Party in any old rags.

Greeting the world again on what you thought was the following morning, you were beyond horrified to discover that you had actually slept a whole day away.  Trying to remember now if you had actually gotten out of bed at all, some empty water bottles on your bedside locker and some vague memory of trips to the bathroom comforted you at least with the knowledge that you had left the bed.  But that seemed to be all you did.  Thinking back now on the last activity you could remember accomplishing, throwing yourself into bed after a long and exhausting day at work somehow convinced you now that the invitation you recalled receiving was simply a dream brought about by far too many long days and sleepless nights.  However, rising from the bed and leaving the room, the envelope and its contents waiting on your living room coffee table told you the summons was real.  Tony Stark was causing you problems once again.

Picking it up and now reading through the finer details his holographic presence and your tiredness had previously caused you to overlook, you now confirmed with a deep sigh the last thought you had that night before sleep knocked you out cold ... nothing in your closet would qualify for this event and you would definitely have to go shopping.  Sighing now with the realization that two days notice had disappeared to become the day of the party, you figured you better get a move on.

Calling a taxi then to pick you up in half an hour, you hurried off into the bathroom to shower and dress before heading outside to catch your ride.  Sitting into the taxi then and telling your driver Devon exactly where you wanted to go, you tried to focus on him talking to you about mundane things like the weather or the last football game he watched but the list of various Halloween outfit shops popping up on your phone as you scrolled through Google proved too much of a distraction to really take in much of what was being said.  After all, with the party taking place tonight this shopping trip was the very definition of last minute.  And you despised last minute chores.

Which you guessed explained the headache that was now beginning to form.

At last arriving in the center of the city, you promptly paid and thanked your driver before exiting the taxi and heading off towards the nearest costume shop.  Hoping for a one and done kind of experience, stepping inside the front door at least brought you some comfort when you were greeted by a throng of adults and children milling about through the huge array of colorful costumes stretching as far as the eye could see.  You weren’t the only one it seemed that the spooky season had crept up on.

Walking through the shop now around excited children, harried adults and even more stressed out shop assistants, you made your way to the adult sections and carefully pawed through every single costume without any of them really screaming out ‘pick me.’  Giving up at last when nothing really grabbed your attention, you left the shop and headed to the next one and the next one and the one after that.  Eventually tired out and wondering why you were unable to find a simple costume for a simple Halloween party, you figured a spot of lunch might allow you to clear your head and start over when suddenly a quick glance down a side alley revealed a small shop decked out in pumpkins, spiders and all manner of ghost and ghoulie.

Glancing around now and observing that no one else seemed even remotely aware of the shop’s existence or where you were even looking, you took a few extra seconds to ponder this revelation before swallowing your concerns, placing one foot in front of the other and heading off towards its door.  Placing your hand on the knob then once getting within its reach, you held your breath and pushed forwards.

Stepping inside the first thing that caught your eye wasn’t the smoking cauldrons or the various supernatural creatures displayed throughout but the actual interior of the place itself … it reminded you of a forest.  Decked out with a moss like carpet, the night sky overhead contrasted beautifully with the leaves cascading down the walls in all the glorious colors of fall.  It took your breath away.  In fact you were so mesmerized by the whole scene before you that you actually let out a shocked scream when a hand landed on your shoulder as the owner of the shop made her presence known to you.

“I’m sorry my dear, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she apologized politely as you smiled back tenderly while you tried to reassure her that no harm had been done.  Starting a conversation then regarding how amazing her shop looked and at the same time how empty it was compared to most of those on the main street, she simply smiled and reassured you that she still turned a nice profit through those that were destined to find this place.  Taking no notice of her exact words however as your attention now fell to the lack of costumes on display, you wondered if she could actually read your mind when she walked over to the door, locked it and then turned her attentive gaze back on you before speaking.  “Now dear, how about you follow me to the back room and we’ll see if we can find something to bring out your spooky spirit.”

Glancing at the locked door now as she simply walked past you while motioning for you to follow after her, your mind quickly debated what you had gotten yourself into before the memory of why you were even on this trip reminded you that you were terribly low on options.  The party was fast approaching and all the other shops you had tried had been woefully disappointing.  This one really couldn't be any worse, right?  So silencing your reservations then and following behind her step by step, thirty minutes later had you endlessly thanking her as you finally had a costume that suited you and the occasion perfectly.  She truly had delivered.  Saying your goodbyes then, picking up a few essential items and grabbing a quick bite to eat, you next hailed a taxi to get you back home to begin preparing for the night ahead.

Opening up the door to your apartment and stepping inside, you put away your other purchases before heading into your bedroom and dropping the bag containing your costume onto the bed.  Sinking into the chair in the corner of the room then, you contemplated one more time about not going to this party before you finally chastised yourself for hiding yourself away from your former work colleagues.  Sure Tony’s death had been hard on you, so hard in fact you sought out a new job even as the Avengers now rebuilt the compound at a completely different site and Pepper had offered you a lucrative position as her own personal assistant.  Still it would never be the same.  It couldn’t be.  Tony may have been a colossal pain in the ass after all, but he did make things fun.  And it was that fun you missed most of all.

Taking off your shoes now that your mind was beyond changing, you then reached for your phone, booked a taxi for an hour and a half later and finally headed off towards your en suite to start your preparations.  Stripping off your clothes then as the shower heated up and sent its soothing sounds throughout the room, you now stood beneath its warm spray and washed off all the grime trying on the various costumes had deposited on your skin.  Grabbing a towel then and heading back to your bedroom, you dried off before retrieving the costume and looking it over once more.  It really was impressive.

At last feeling all the excitement of the evening ahead, you slipped on the black and red leather bodysuit along with the knee high boots before standing in front of the full-length mirror just inside your closet door.  Admiring the way the suit hugged your figure while cupping your breasts in a way that honestly had you feeling all kinds of sexy, you had to admit that nothing looked as good as your legs leading down from the bodysuit to nestle snugly within the boots.  As Tony would say you were indeed a looker.

Genuinely smiling now for the first time since receiving the invitation, you next went about securing the high collar with the adjustable straps provided before taking out the accompanying belt and securing it firmly around your waist.  Watching now as the four sheer drapes cascaded down your thighs and ass, the light make-up and fake blood you then applied finally finished off the look splendidly and you had to agree that the shop owner was indeed correct.  This was most definitely your look.  Checking the time on your phone one last time, you then picked up your jacket and the invitation and walked out the door just in time to sit into the waiting taxi and head off to see what adventure lay ahead.

Pulling into the parking area of the new Avengers Compound twenty minutes later and handing over your jacket and invitation at the door, arriving at the entertainment floor confirmed that you had made the right decision despite the fact that for the first time since you had come to work for him Tony would not be here.  In fact, it suddenly hit you now standing in this room that Nat and Steve also had to be added to the list.  It just didn’t seem fair.  Setting aside these depressing thoughts however in favor of living life large just like your former boss was notorious for, you plastered on your best and brightest smile and walking towards the bar, ordered the reddest drink they had in honor of the vampire princess your costume declared you to be.  Sipping on it slowly then as the taste assaulted your senses and whatever alcohol it contained burned your throat, you took a few minutes to look around the floor and study the lay of the land until a shiver traveled down your spine and a voice in the back of your mind told you you were being watched.

But that just had to be paranoia, right?

This was a party you were actually invited to, you were no one in particular and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves way too much to zero in on you.  No, you figured now with the outfit you wore the shiver was simply your body adjusting to the changes in temperature and as for the voice well, that you were going to write off as your imagination when a cursory glance around the room proved not one single person here was looking in your direction.  You were just another body.  Gazing out across the sea of faces more closely now bathed in the eerie glow of lighted pumpkins and multi colored billowing smoke, another sip of your drink to calm your nerves and it actually warmed your heart to see so many people - superheroes and Stark employees alike - just hanging out and enjoying the spooky season in all manner of costume that now made you feel right at home.

At last leaving the safety of the bar and venturing forth to mingle, talk and get a closer look at some of the activities, you not only discovered Thor’s dark talent for telling terrifying stories that appeared to be frightening even grown ass adults, but it actually made you smile even more to find Bucky and Sam thoroughly outdoing each other in an ever increasingly degrading game of Truth or Dare.  They really seemed to be embracing the spirit of the season.  Which you figured was something you should be doing.

Thinking now to yourself however of just how much Tony and Nat especially would have enjoyed the festivities on display, you were just about to join Wanda, Pepper and some of your former colleagues from before you left Stark Industries to work at the Avengers Compound for a game of 7 Minutes In … when a glimpse off to your left revealed Carol, Clint and Bruce in the throes of carving pumpkins and having a heated discussion as to which one of them was doing a better job.  Deciding there and then that this actually looked like far better fun and also using the excuse to get your hands on a knife, you placed your hand on Pepper’s shoulder and gave her a warm smile in greeting before making a beeline for the three Avengers currently trying to decide what exactly Carol was after creating.

Stepping up beside them now in the hopes of not only settling the argument but also just to see what each of them had accomplished, you too had to agree that the pumpkin was not something recognizable on Earth to which Carol now threw her arms around you and thanked you for stating the obvious.  Apparently she had indeed carved out some alien creature none of you had ever even heard of and neither of the guys had actually realized it.  Deciding now that your detective skills merited some type of reward and pointing out, to his dismay, that it made you smarter than the great Doctor Banner, Carol now reached behind you and picked up the nearest pumpkin for you to try out your skills on.

Taking the knife now offered by Clint, you waited until all three of them nodded their heads for you to begin and so you did.  Slicing off the top and scooping out the insides, you then carved slowly and carefully and fifteen minutes later a tea light nestled inside revealed the Kraken from Norse mythology devouring a ship and dragging it down to the depths of the ocean never to be seen again.  Grumbling between themselves that you were hiding talents from them, the three superheroes now admitted defeat and walking away left you thinking of what you wanted to do next.  Deciding that as grand, successful and fun as your first pumpkin carving attempt had been, it was a bit too dark in your opinion despite the season that was in it and so reaching for the biggest pumpkin you could find you made the first cut thinking that this time you wanted to try something simple and cheerful.

But alas it wasn’t meant to be.  Sliding the knife in and drawing it back out, a gust of wind simply loud enough for you to hear emanated from the pumpkin and as the knife plunged back in and created a larger cut, a portal formed before your eyes and sucked you forwards into the unknown.

Rising to your feet now having been unceremoniously dumped out wherever the portal had ended, you took a few steadying breaths before beginning the task of figuring out where you were and how you were going to make it back to the party.  Realizing also in the same breath the mistake it was to have left your phone in your jacket pocket, you now focused instead on where you might be and the revelation shocked you.  You were standing in what appeared to be a darkened toy store.  Massive beyond belief and covered in cobwebs, debris and all the eerie spectacle of the season, your hopes of getting out of here began to soar as you cautiously made your way down the nearest aisle and headed towards the front of the building.  But that hope did not last long.

Being greeted by boarded up windows that let in just enough light for you to see by, this revelation coupled with a nearby phone that proved to be lacking an active dial tone told you all you really needed to know.  The place was utterly abandoned and you were trapped inside.  Panicking now at the situation you found yourself in, you checked and rattled every window and door you could find for any possible way out but no exit appeared, so you now began searching the surrounding area for anything that might help you escape or at the very least alert someone outside that this place was not as abandoned as it appeared.  Failing miserably however as everything you tried chipped away at your sense of preservation, you finally sent your gaze upwards along the height of the shelving and wondered if you could climb them, reach the roofing system and manage to get out that way.

Looking around once more now at the front of the building which offered no escape and the Halloween decorations adorning this place that now looked far more sinister and creepy the longer they stared back at you, you accepted you had nothing left to lose and so placing your foot on the nearest shelving and reaching up over your head you prepared to climb and get a better view of things above you when the sound of someone chanting off to your left caught your attention.  Stopping what you were doing now and focusing more completely on what was being said, you still couldn't distinguish any one word from another but two facts were undisputed.  And they totally freaked you out.  One, you were no longer alone in this place and two, this new voice belonged to that of the male variety.  Which made you even more uneasy.  Taking a moment now to contemplate this new information in the context of what you were currently wearing and the time of year it was, you waited a heartbeat more before finally deciding that seeking assistance to get out of here was worth whatever danger may be waiting for you somewhere in the bowels of this disused toy store.

Dropping back down to the floor and moving forward now without alerting your unknown companion, you made it all the way to the action figure aisle where the light of a stationary flashlight illuminated the silhouette of a familiar figure standing before a life size cardboard cutout of The Black Widow Natasha Romanoff.  Completely forgetting the unusual circumstances now that landed you in this peculiar location, you hurried forwards and called out Steve Rogers name until a wayward glance beyond him stopped you in your tracks.

Something very strange was happening here.

Looking back and forth now between the man that sparked hope within you and the object that halted your movements, seeing what looked like blood dripping down Natasha's effigy made you want to run back the way you had come when another image caught and held your attention.  At the end of the aisle, four or five feet away now from where you and Steve stood, another life size cardboard cutout also stood dripping in the same red substance, but it was still easy to make out.  This one was Tony Stark.  Moving slowly past Steve now without any interference from him to stand before the image of your former boss, you were just about to reach out and wipe the red liquid from his cardboard helmet when a hand suddenly reached out to stop you and made your skin crawl.

"Please don't do that.  Jamie was very clear that their blood should not come in contact with any other living creature," Steve explained and the shadows dancing across his features as you glanced towards him somehow made him far more terrifying than you ever thought possible.

"Who the fuck is Jamie and just what the hell is going on here?" you asked, turning now to face Steve fully while his grip on your wrist and the bloody scene before you frightened you more than you ever willing to utter.  Especially to him.

Visibly flinching a bit at your language, tone or possibly both, Steve easily composed himself however before speaking.  "Oh I'm sorry sweetheart," Steve began as he now moved both of you away from the figure before you and the temptation you still had to touch it.  "I thought after all the time the two of you spent picking out your costume she would at least have given you her name.  Guess she didn't," he now finished as his tongue darted out to lick his lips while his eyes took in the sight of you for the very first time.

Following his eyes down your costume now as some of the pieces began to fall into place, you still didn't know for sure what puzzle they were falling into though and part of you questioned if you really wanted to find out given what you had seen so far.  But it proved to be a very small part however.  Deciding instead after a brief pause that you just had to know what was going on, you turned your full focus back on Steve now and asked the question he failed to answer once again.

"Well if you really must know, Jamie informed me that very little separates the living from the dead on All Hallow's Eve.  So using a spell she provided, Nat and Tony can walk this earth once again."

Completely horrified now by this revelation, all that it implied and his seemingly cavalier attitude to what he was proposing, your head screamed at you to run but your natural curiosity won out again as more words tumbled from your mouth without too much thought for what you were saying or the consequences they might reap.  "What the hell Steve?  Why would you do something like this?  Have you any idea the forces your actions could unleash?"

Locking his eyes with you now as he contemplated whether or not to tell you the truth, it seemed the truth won out in the end as America's sentinel of liberty began to speak once more.  "What can I say sweetheart?  I missed Natasha.  Hell even on some level I also missed Tony.  I just had to find a way to bring them back.  And this is it.  Whatever it takes," he finished with a cold, almost lifeless whisper and you knew now that all hope was lost.  This man before he was no longer the beacon of hope the world held him up to be and the longer his blue eyes roamed over your barely concealed form the more afraid you became of the circumstances that landed you here and the consequences should you be unable to escape.

Frantic now as your mind wandered back to the feeling of someone watching you as you entered the party, you wanted to tell yourself to shut the fuck up when another round of words left your trembling lips.  "It was you?" you stated almost as a question as more pieces of this puzzle made themselves known to you.  "You sent the invitation.  Organized for Jamie to find me.  You were watching me at the party too.  Oh god," you shuddered out suddenly as a final thought revealed itself to you, "you left that cursed pumpkin for me to find.  You wanted me here."

Backing away from him now as you no longer wanted to hear anything he had to say, you finally took off at a run not caring where you were headed, but only made it three aisles over before a heavy body slammed into you and brought you to the ground.  Trying desperately now to fight him off but failing miserably given his power, size and the position you found yourself in, you might have feared for your life as a crazed looking Steve turned you over and brought his hands around your throat if not for the words that settled in your ears as his fingers started to squeeze.  "Rest easy now sweetheart, I'm not done with you yet and there's at least one person both of us know who will be overjoyed to find you here."

Clawing at his hands now as your vision began to blur and his words frightened you more than any revelation so far this night, your fingers eventually fell from his as the cold embrace of darkness finally claimed you and his satisfied smirk was the last concrete image your mind captured.

Regaining consciousness some unknown time later to find Steve with his back turned towards you staring into space, you might have been horrified by the fact that your body suit was all that remained on your frame now if not for the fact that being practically naked was not your worst condition.  Ignoring the super soldier who seemed to have taken leave of his senses, your eyes now took in the makeshift scene all around you and it was worse than the one before he choked you out.  Following the line of your limbs, you quickly discovered that the drapes that earlier fell from your hips now tied you down to what looked and felt like the base of a fourteen foot trampoline.  Which didn't bode well for you.

Determined as a result to remain as quiet as possible so as not to alert your unhinged captor, you pulled your arms and legs towards you and while there was some tiny movement allowed, the fabric didn't even tear.  Which only confirmed that you weren't going anywhere anytime soon.  Meaning you were now in serious trouble.  Tired now from all the exertion this information and running from Steve had cost you, you relaxed back down on your makeshift prison and figured it was maybe time to try and reason with the man responsible for your current situation since you had nothing else to lose.  “Hey Asshole,” you began as a means of grabbing Steve’s attention though you knew once again that your attitude had not been well received by the noticeable tension that seemed to settle in his shoulders, “you maybe want to tell me why exactly I’m tied down here.  Surely you’re not going to go so far as to sacrifice me?” you now asked and you hated yourself for the tremor you knew he must be hearing in your voice.

“Sacrifice you?” Steve now asked as he turned around to face you before jumping up onto the trampoline and kneeling down between your open legs.  “Oh sweetheart don’t be silly.  Jamie doesn’t practice that type of magic, but you will have to contribute … something,” he now answered and as his fingers began gliding over your bound figure you suspected that his next answer was not going to be something that was going to excite you.  Even if you hadn't been tied down.

Listening intently now as the terror began to build, Steve informed you that come midnight Tony and Nat would step through their blood soaked cardboard cutouts and rejoin the world they gave their lives for.  All that then had to be done to seal the resurrection spell was for the two of them … well in this case the three of them, to spend the next twenty-four hours ravishing each other's bodies and yours so Jamie could harness the energy of said couplings for whatever purpose she required.  Finishing off this revelation then by leaning forwards and placing a kiss against each covered breast, you wished you could headbutt him in retaliation but the other questions swirling in your brain took priority.

Plus there was the fact that your current position didn’t allow you the strength to inflict that type of damage on him.  Still, telling Steve in no uncertain terms that you would tell Tony and Natasha what he had planned, you also told him that he had to be even more deranged if he thought the flimsy drapes tying you down would remain strong enough to hold you for that length of time.  His answer to this remark however only served to  shock you even more.

Glancing at his watch now before releasing a laugh that sent a chill through your very soul, Steve now seemed to take perverse pleasure in settling his lips against your ear before explaining the lengths he and Jamie had gone through to secure your participation.  “Oh sweetheart, your little shopping trip to Jamie’s did more than enable you to purchase this delicious covering.  The drapes while looking flimsy to you are actually enchanted to hold you forever until one of us releases you.  And as for telling tales to Tony and Nat," he continued with a tsk tsk sound, “well … try to reveal anything too detailed about your participation or Jamie’s involvement and all anyone will hear is you moaning, pleading and begging to be fucked harder.”

Rising off the trampoline now and heading back to the spot he had previously been watching from, your mind began to swirl with everything he had just told you but as a whooshing sound now broke the silence settling around you and Steve again, this new development now told you that the time you had left with full control over your voice was just about up.  So with very little choice left available to you, you swallowed your fear and asked Steve the one remaining question that haunted you the most now.  “Steve, what happens to me after twenty-four hours?  Will I actually survive what’s coming?”

Torn between answering you now and giving his full attention to his two friends whose cutouts you just now noticed standing a few feet away, a quick glance at the shimmering effigies and his watch told Steve he still had some time.  It couldn't hurt then to give you another piece of information, right?  Sighing again at your persistence before turning back to face you, he simply told you now that you would indeed survive but all four of you would then be bound together forever and beyond.  Informing you also that the question and answer portion of the evening was now officially over, you would have protested this final statement vigorously if not for the skeletal hands you now watched emerging from the cutouts before you.

This shit couldn't be real.

Following your frightened gaze and high pitched screams now to also witness what you were seeing, Tony and Nat emerging through the blood soaked veils should have been a welcome sight except for what actually appeared in their stead.  Disheveled skin, protruding bone and wispy strands of hair, you now felt bone chilling fear for the first time in your life at the prospect of having these creatures anywhere near you.  But Steve it seemed didn't care.  Moving forward now one step at a time for every one they took in your direction, you ignored Steve’s actions and his previous comments and pulled harder against your bindings until a new phenomenon drew your attention to what was taking place before your eyes.

Craning your neck now around Steve’s considerable bulk, your eyes widened in utter disbelief as you watched the desiccated corpses of two people you thought you’d never see again somehow absorb the blood that previously covered their cutouts and complete their transformations.  Reaching their friend and former teammate then, Tony and Nat embraced Steve in all their former glory and as the three friends focused on their own reunion you now wondered how long you had until their attention fell on you and whether this transformation was real or simply an illusion.

Fearful now that the answer to this unvoiced question would end up being the latter, yet not liking the former prospect any more either, you foolishly tried once more to free yourself from your confinement until Tony separated from his friends and locked his gaze on you.  “Well now darling, aren’t you a sight these once dead eyes thought they’d never see again.  Capsicle you really have outdone yourself,” Tony now added as he walked away from Nat and Steve and closed the distance between you.  Feeling your heart now pounding in your chest the closer he got to you as Natasha helped Steve strip out of his clothes, Tony at last reaching the trampoline and placing his hand upon your ankle told you one thing at least.  This was no illusion.

Completely naked, warm to the touch and looking every bit as human as he had in life, the smirk you never admitted to loving graced his newly restored features once again as he watched your eyes travel down his impressive physique to settle on his equally impressive package.  It was better than your dreams.  Calling for the others now to hurry up, Steve and Nat standing beside him equally naked now left you feeling positively fully clothed in the bodysuit that moments earlier had felt like nothing more than a glorified swimsuit.  But you knew it wouldn’t last.  Watching now as their hungry eyes raked over your bound and covered form, all three heroes nodded silently to each other now before Tony joined you on the trampoline and ripped the bodysuit from you.  Begging now for them not to follow through with what they had planned, it was Natasha that set out to put your mind at ease.

“Princess please, look at you.  Look at us,” she continued as Steve and Tony reached out and helped her up on the trampoline.  Dipping ever so slightly now from the combined weight of all four of you as Tony remained between your legs while Steve and Nat rested on either side of you, the redhead licking a stripe along your neck made you cringe in disgust until she started speaking once again.  Then you wanted to vomit.  “Do you see Tony’s package princess?  Tell me you haven’t fantasized about it buried deep within your flower.  And what about Steve?” she asked, reaching across your body then to place her hand around his glorious erection.  “Imagine this rod splitting you apart as you beg the guys to fuck your brains out.  Not that we'll be able to hear you much with my pussy dripping all over that sweet and talented mouth of yours,” Natasha finished with a laugh before her lips crashed against yours and her tongue invaded your mouth and tickled your senses.

Drawing back to let both of you breathe then while letting go of Steve’s equipment, the three heroes exchanged looks once again as Tony now made room for Natasha between your legs while Steve moved closer to fondle your breasts and replace Nat’s lips with his own.  Fighting off Steve’s advances now as his tongue darted out against your lips but failed to breach your oral cavity, he finally managed to penetrate your defenses however when Natasha bent down between your legs and buried her head against your intimate area.  Moaning out then as her lips descended over your folds and began to lick and nibble an area no man or woman had ever touched orally before, Steve took full advantage of your slippage and gliding his tongue over yours began to seek out any participation from you on his end.

Squirming now to get away from Steve’s skillful hands and Natasha’s talented fingers and mouth, you actually lost control of your senses when Tony attached his mouth to Nat’s private area and sent her moans reverberating through your pussy in a sensation overload you had never experienced before.  One that made your head spin.  Grabbing a hold of the drapes now as you and Natasha were pulled apart, you couldn’t tell where you ended and Nat started and at this moment you couldn’t really care.  Feeling your orgasm growing stronger and stronger as Natasha's tongue and fingers continued to assault your core, Steve now suckling on your breasts while Tony worked Nat towards her own release confirmed all that they had told you ... it was going to be a fourway.

But it didn't end there.  Hearing a female voice chanting in the same language you had heard earlier, a cracking sound joined the slapping, slurping and moaning sounds coming from all four of you and you figured now that this was the energy harnessing part of the spell that Steve had previously mentioned.  At least you might have accepted that explanation had your mind been able to focus completely on anything other than the sensations currently pulsing throughout your system.  Biting along your chest now so that your mouth was free to give a voice to their efforts, moaning out now just like Steve had promised as their manipulations of your body continued to push you higher and higher, you cried out your release and created a vice-like grip on Natasha's fingers as a powerful orgasm ripped through you and threatened to knock you out once again.  But it wasn't going to happen.  Continuing to fuck you through your high as Steve now egged her on and Tony increased his eating out of the redhead sandwiched between the two of you, one more powerful, never-ending spasm starting in your head and thrumming downward towards your toes and you felt the dam burst.  Literally.  Squirting out all over Natasha's face as she in turn released into Tony's waiting mouth, all three heroes now smiled in satisfaction at the moisture leaking from you and dripping down Natasha's face.

Laying atop you now as Steve moved forwards to taste her release on Tony's face, you would have chosen that moment to close your eyes to the scene before you if the redhead didn't have other plans.  Moving her body along yours as the guys now watched in rapt attention, her bringing her lips against yours should have made you thoroughly repulsed but instead it turned you on.  And the words she uttered next just added to your overall confusion and humiliation.  "You taste wonderful princess, don't you think?  I'm glad I got to sample you first," she finished with a wink as she then flopped down beside you and began discussing with the guys how all of you should proceed from here.  Deciding it was only fair that Steve should get to taste your nectar next, Tony and Nat now snuggled up on either side of you as the super soldier made himself comfortable between your legs.  Feasting on your pussy then as Nat and Tony showered your upper body with nips and kisses, you actually began to wonder if Steve required any air to breathe at all as your body responded to his stimulations and his face seemed determined to breach your entrance.

Begging him to stop eventually as you couldn't take much more, an imperceptible look towards his teammates had Tony holding down your hips while Nat placed her lips over yours to easily silence all of your objections.  No longer able to do anything now but feel each and every sensation swirling through you, your body finally succumbed to Steve's unrelenting torture as wave after wave of unending pleasure crashed throughout your body and you at last surrendered to the multiple orgasms competing within you for the title of strongest one.  Pleased with himself now at the effect he had on you as he collapsed exhausted between your legs, you hoped now they would at least let you rest a bit before starting up again.  But this was not to be part of their plan it seemed.

Having followed the rule of ladies first and then rewarding Steve for all that he had accomplished so far this night, Tony had waited patiently to taste your honeypot. But it seemed his patience now had run out. Returning to their starting positions as Natasha whispered in your ear how she had never tasted anything quite as exquisite as your pussy, Steve devoring your mouth once again did nothing to distract you from Tony's mouth attaching itself to your dripping folds. Acknowledging now for the first time that Steve and Nat were clean faced, the feel of Tony's goatee against your oversensitive lips was an altogether different experience. As were his skills. Realizing now that the previous two heroes had pulled you apart without ever actually manipulating your clit, Tony's nibbling on your bundle of nerves along with the tingling burn created by his facial hair added a whole new sensation to the pulses taking place within your core and as every muscle in your body began to tighten you knew you were in trouble. This was shaping up to be your most powerful release yet.

Successfully pulling back from Steve's mouth now as the pressure began to build throughout your system, you fought as best you could against Tony's hold even though it was an action that ultimately proved futile. Adding his fingers now which then became a fist as his tongue, lips and goatee all continued to aggravate the nerve endings his friends had previously sparked to life, you this time welcomed the darkness that surrounded you as fireworks burst behind your eyes and what felt like electricity crackled everywhere from your head to your toes. You had never in your life come so hard and part of you hoped you never would again. It was beyond draining.

Releasing the drapes then that tied your now limp body to the trampoline, the heroes began to use you in earnest now as each of them took turns to become acquainted with all of your holes and each others.  Twisting and turning you now in ever more creative ways as each of them tried it seemed to outdo the other, all you could do now was try not to pass out again as one orgasm ended and another one began.  In fact, so coordinated and determined were they in their dominance of you that at one stage in this bizarre ritual with Nat sitting on your face while kissing Steve beneath you and Tony somehow also sampling Natasha's nether regions, both of the guys' cocks buried in your pussy at the same time had all four of you joined as one.  And it wasn’t the only time this happened.  Another time, Steve buried in Nat's ass and Tony buried in yours while you and Nat pleasured each other seemed to you like something out of a pornographic movie. But this too had actually been real.

Losing track of all the times each of you had come now as well as trying not to think about the consequences of all the loads the guys had deposited within your core, you suspected this part of your ordeal was coming to an end however as the crackling energy you vaguely remembered noticing earlier coalesced into a shimmering barrier surrounding the trampoline as Steve and Tony both released one final burst of cum each against your shuddering walls.  Exhausted now to the point of being nearly catatonic, yet also eternally grateful that you had indeed survived, your body covered and overflowing with cum could not shut off the new round of questions forming in your brain as Steve and Tony nestled against your sides while Natasha lay down between your legs and rested her head upon your stomach.

Breaking the silence to ask what their plans were now that the twenty-four hour sex marathon had secured their resurrection, no amount of thinking or deducing on your part could have prepared you for the answer Tony furnished you with however.  Informing you that a house had been secured in your name somewhere in time, all of you would live comfortably on a secret fortune that Steve had amassed while populating this new time period with the next generation of earth’s heroes.

Strenuously protesting this idea while simultaneously groaning at the thought of all the sex that would be required to accomplish this goal, Tony and Nat peppering your skin with kisses did very little to distract you however as Steve reached under the trampoline and retrieved a bag containing four time travel suits with corresponding GPS wrist straps.  Slowly backing away from their location now as you all dismounted the trampoline, arguing with Tony that this whole idea of starting over was beyond absurd as the three heroes proceeded to suit up, a stern look from Steve as he moved to block your escape attempt told you no more insolence on your part would be tolerated going forward.  Informing you then as he grabbed a firm hold on your shoulders that you could either get dressed on your own or be dressed, it was Nat now who tried to smooth things over by appealing to your gentler side.

"Princess, forget what happened these past twenty-four hours and listen to your heart.  Now tell us you don't want this.  This world believes us to be dead so we can't stay here, but elsewhere together a life with Tony, Steve and I awaits where you will be treasured beyond your wildest dreams," she finished and as all three heroes now stood awaiting your answer you simply countered by asking where the exit out of here was and would they even let you reach it.

Smiling at you now as Steve flat out told you you weren't going anywhere but with them, suiting up and following on as he led all three of you farther into the store and back to the storage area, all four of you then stood on the waiting quantum generator, synced up your GPS wrist straps and shot through the time portal to emerge in a wooded landscape with an impressive cabin decked out in all the splendor of the spooky season.  Resigning yourself now to the future they promised as Steve confiscated all four wrist straps, a change of clothes inside the house had you wondering how long you could survive this nightmare before you lost your mind and whether or not your new reality came with heroes that could offer some assistance.

Tagging: @jtargaryen18

[harcove]

hi 🥺 i hope you’re doing all right — i’m sending so so much love 🫶🏼 i don’t want to bother you with a request so please feel free to just read this and move on if you need to ! i was just doing my hair, and as a curly girl i imagined begging Billy to let me do my post-shower styling routine on his luscious hair. he’s probably protective over his hair but i think it would be so cute !! like , him sitting on the edge of his bed, a little (a lot) stiff, with hair strands in his eyes as his s/o fusses over his wet hair, scrunching product and twirling clumps into ringlets 🥹🫶🏼 and he hates to admit that he loved being taken care of and despite his grumbling, he liked how his hair turned out 🥹

A/N: me, a year after taking a hiatus from writing, answering all my year old requests: "heyyy guysss...."

Fr I'm sorry y'all I stopped writing, and left all your beautiful requests in my inbox cause I didn't wanna delete them cause I love them and always wanted to do them someday... Even if it's LATE BY A YEAR IM SO SORRY... I hope this kinda makes up for it 🥺

Pairing: Billy x reader

Length: 3.4k

Warnings: Nopepepepe, but I will say OOC Billy just so no one tries to tell me I write him OOC even though this is how I characterize him lmao

Nah, I trust you - B.H.

Billy's back was stiff as a board.

He couldn't help it; it was his natural reaction to the situation. Facing his back towards people. It was hard. But you had begged- pleaded. Please let me do your hair, please! And no matter how many times he said no or brushed you off, you wouldn't let up. You were absolutely relentless.

To Billy, his hair was a key part of him. It was one of the few things he had complete control of in his life; something that was completely his and something he had the free will to do with it as he pleased (even if it meant his father would make a nasty comment or two about it) and it was something he took pride in.

Yes- he had let you touch his hair before. But that was after a long day, when he knew he wouldn't be going out again and was winding down in bed.

Not after a shower. He usually did that himself because he was the only one who knew how to do his hair the way he wanted. Or at least, he believed he was the only one who could do it right.

It may have sounded stupid; people might say it's just hair and its not that big of a deal. But to him it was a big deal. It was an integral part of him that even his father couldn't take away, even if he had something to say about it.

He supposed, maybe, if there was anyone who he might trust enough to do his hair after he showered, it might be you.

Your hair was beautiful. Thick curls that you tended to and he had seen you tend to before. Times where he'd been in your room, reading some random book he found on your bookshelf while he waited for you to finish showering- you walking out with wet hair and sitting at the vanity to put things in it- to make sure you took care of it.

So, if there was anyone he might trust for this, it was you.

In fact, it was always you. For every thing that Billy found himself alone in, found himself with no one he could trust, there was always you. He trusted you.

"Trust me, you're in good hands."

You note his stiff shoulders as you sat behind him on his bed whilst he sat on the floor. Billy was caged; in the beginning of your relationship he was especially so in all situations. Some days were still harder for him but he was much better than before.

It took a lot of patience and thinking past his personality at times, but it was worth the effort. He was worth it.

It was just too bad that so many people in his life didn't think so.

"I'll stop driving you to school if I'm fucking not," his voice is low, and much of his words came out as a grumble from his chest.

Gently, you place your hands on his shoulders and lean forward, bracing yourself on him so you don't fall from the bed. For a second his shoulders tense a bit more but when he realizes what you're doing they start to relax.

"Trust me," you kiss the side of his face gently- your lips brushing against the spot beside his ear, his wet hair tickling your own face.

Before you can pull back to work on his hair, his hand grasps your arm and he drags you back with enough force you think for a minute you're going to fall over his shoulders onto the floor, but thankfully you manage to use your other hand to grab onto his shoulder again.

He's pressing his lips to yours. It's rough and it's almost as if he's kissing you for the first time after years of not seeing you. Billy Hargrove is a great kisser. It's passionate at times and gentle at others. Oftentimes he's stronger than he realizes, but he's never hurt you.

You feel him bite your lip, and you squeeze his shoulder hard, pulling back.

"You're trying to distract me," you breathe out, trying to catch your breathe.

There's a heat deep in your lower body, in your stomach, and your face feels a tad warm. He knows what he's doing, he always does. But you won't let him get away with trying to distract you- besides, making him wait grants a better reward, for you and him both.

"I don't need to try babe," his eyes have a glint in them and you push his back as you sit up straighter.

"Okay Prince Charming," you role your eyes and bring your hands to his head, feeling the curls in his hair.

Billy's got a mullet; a ever popular hairstyle at the moment, but his looks better than others you've seen. He's also got a natural wave and some curl to his hair. He uses a curling iron on it too sometimes to really accentuate the curls.

He could always try to get a perm, but it was something in the back of his mind. He was fine right now doing what he was used to. Besides- who knew better about how much curl or wave he wanted than himself?

Pouring a bit of leave in conditioner into the palm of your hand, you slap them together to coat both of your hands before running them through his hair again. Your fingers tangle into his locks and you can already see the natural curl and wave in his hair. It's thicker at the root and thins out a bit at the ends.

With it damp like it was, it looked brown rather than the dirty blonde/brown you're used to seeing. His hair is beautiful, and you're unafraid to let him know so.

"Your hair is so beautiful Billy," you say with a smile that can be heard in your voice   "Beautiful just like you are."

Billy's not used to being called beautiful. It's not a word people commonly use on him. Hot, yes, sexy, of course. Beautiful, no.

Yet you always seem so keen on using the word on him. At first, he'd always push back and claim that a word like that was meant for the likes of you, not him. Just call him sexy like everyone else did.

But you were insistent. You always were. And you'd brush him off and do it anyways. And soon, the word began to have a different meaning to him. A word that he associated with you. He wasn't sure if he thought himself beautiful but he knew you were and to you he was.

It always managed to make him feel something in his chest, that was for sure.

"Jesus, can't you call me hot, or some shit?" Billy bites out, but there's no malice in his words. More so, he sounds akin to a petulant child in that moment.

You suppose he's never had a chance to really be a child in his whole life. Never been taken care of, or babied.

So of course you'd do it for him now.

"You are hot," you make a sizzling noise with your mouth as you pull your hands from his hair, "but you're also beautiful."

"Glad you know."

It quiets down from there, a gentle lull in conversation is peaceful and welcome. Sometimes, Billy can be so loud (and as he likes to tell you, you can be especially loud when you're alone with him) and he can play loud music and get angry. But he likes the silence sometimes- only with you- because when he's alone, it's the music that blocks out his darker thoughts and his father's words.

But with you, the silence is safe.

Your hands pick up the heat protector Billy has on his bedside table and you spritz it a few times in the air to see that it's working, making Billy grab it.

"That shits expensive," he says before he starts spraying it into his hair himself.

"Alright, alright, I'll buy you a new one for your birthday- stop, I'm supposed to be doing this!"

With a quickness you grab the bottle back from his hands and spray his hair once more at the back before putting the bottle back on the table.

You're the only one he let's do these things.

Once that's done you run your hands through his hair again, half because you want to feel his hair again and have to make sure the product is everywhere.

You can feel it; the way his body relaxes just a smidge as you place your hands into his hair, playing with his locks and massaging his scalp. Compared to when you started, his body has loosened, his back is not as stiff- he's actually somewhat slouched, and his shoulders are too.

Moving to crawl across his bed, you grab the hair dryer and curler to really get to work on his locks. As you plug the former in, Billy looks at you, just drinking you in in those simple and quiet moments.

He's fucking whipped for you, and at one point in his life, that terrified him. It still did sometimes. But only because he'd never felt that way before. And he didn't want to ruin you.

Soon his hair is dry and your moving onto the curler.

His natural hair is already wavy as it is, and he's got some natural curls- especially on the nap of his neck he has what you called baby curls. You pull on them lightly, tug them, and you're doing it on purpose because soon Billy's large hand is grasping yours from behind and you're giggling.

"You're like a fucking child," he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt you, but he's always been more heavy handed than most, "You're not touching my goddamn hair again if you don't stop."

"Your baby curls are so cute," you smile- removing your hand from his grip and placing both of your hands on either side of his head, tilting it back to look up at you.

He's always had the most beautiful eyes. Blue, clear, piercing.

Beautiful.

You gingerly place your lips against his as you lean forward. But he kisses back less gently, more needy, and his hands are soon finding their way backwards to hold the side of your own head. The position is odd, but the passion is familiar.

But this time it's not you that pulls away, it's him. And you can't help but pout as he does so- his tongue jutting out to lick his lips before a Cheshire like smirk shows itself, beautiful white teeth making their appearance like a vampire.

"Well? We don't have all night," he's so snarky when he speaks, knowing what he's doing to you- in a battle of wit and playfulness, Billy is the master. He is always one step ahead of you. You can never win. He throws your actions back in your face- the ball in your side of the court but he's the one holding it.

You let out a hmph as you take the heated curler and begin the task of curling, ignoring the heat that pools in the depths of your stomach and the way you can still feel his lips on yours. And he sits there, shoulders hunched slightly; a tiny thing that you notice with a soft smile and a bittersweet happiness. For so long when you had first met him, he was always tense; even alone, he always seemed like he was wound tight. At first it was confusing, worrying, and your worrying was warranted when you found out about his father. Neil Hargrove was at the bottom of the bucket, not worth any of your time or energy. Only ever worth the energy if you were trying to protect Billy.

He tells you to leave it alone. But you would never sit there and let him get shoved around in front of you. Something his mom should've been there to stop, you were trying to stop instead.

But now, he relaxes his shoulders, slumps his body lazily, when you're with him alone he is all mush. Usually. Right now, you were both aware that Neil and his wife, Max's mother, were away for a weekend trip together or something like that, so he could be this way in his own home.

It breaks your heart to think about how every other time he was home, and Neil was too, he was wound tight; always on edge, always waiting. Wondered how he could sleep at night. (That was probably why he liked to take naps at your house whenever he was there.)

If you could, you would keep him with you at your house. Your parents didn't mind his presence and were privy to the knowledge about his father. It was inevitable they found out that his relationship with his father was less than stellar. The extent of their knowledge wasn't that deep however- because if they knew, they'd call the police.

You weren't opposed to that. But Billy was. Vehemently so. Claimed that if the police were involved, it would only get worse- not just on him, but on everyone involved (this was code word for Max, you knew it). Also told you that police had been called before, when he was younger, by a neighbour who had suspicions. But his father was a good actor. And the police didn't dig hard enough, try hard enough.

You tell him all the time when it comes up that Hopper is different than the police in California at least. Hopper is a good man, a man with morals, and a man you trusted and one who would take this seriously. And it is not just you talking out of your ass, trying to convince him- no, you know Hopper would take it seriously.

But it always falls on deaf ears. And you can't force him to do something he doesn't want. You've tried. So you relent. For now. Things are more calm than they've ever been with Billy and his father. It could be related to the time he spends at your home, not around enough for his father to start too much. It's not good. But he's not bruised up. So for now, you relent.

You do not want to make things worse.

"You should sleep over next week," you casually suggest as your hands move to curl another section of his hair, running your fingers through already finished curls to make them look more natural.

"I slept over last week," Billy says, one of his  legs stretching out in front of him as his body further leans back, "Can't get enough of me?"

You wonder if he's aware of the reason you always ask him to sleep over at your home. Well, part of the reason. You enjoy his company, you enjoy falling asleep beside him, flush against his body because your bed is meant for one person, not two, and God forbid he stays on the ground to sleep or sleeps in the living room on the couch away from you. You enjoy waking up to see his beautiful golden touched skin from his time soaking up any of Hawkins sun, and you enjoy watching his face- calm and at ease, as he sleeps. Not worried, or on guard. Just calm.

The other half of your reasoning is to keep him away from his father when you can.

If hes aware of the secondary reasoning, he  hasn't said anything. Or made indication of it. But you're positive he must know or have an idea, because Billy Hargrove is perceptive and he is smart, something people don't tend to realize. More the fools they are.

"I'd just die without you," you playfully respond, (though you aren't sure how playful it is when you think about losing him- it horrifies you and you don't know what you'd do) as you turn the curling iron off, setting it aside to cool down before it can be put away. You run your fingers through his hair again, lightly pulling curls and brushing through them so they're not so perfect and the blend. So they look natural.

It isn't hard. Billy's hair is amazing. And you're not so bad at doing hair yourself, you remind yourself with a smug grin. Your hair was tended to nicely and you took pride in the curls and coils.

"I know," he scoffs, letting your fingers massage his scalp, "I'll think about it."

You smile softly. As much as you try to keep him at your place, you could never force him to do it. It was up to him when he would accept the offers or show up randomly for a night or two. He was independent. And you knew that was a part of him that he cherished and held onto tightly; the independence to choose to come over, the independence to own something like his camaro. His father took a lot from him, made him feel small- you would never take away his freedom to choose, never make him feel small. Never make him feel like you wanted to force him to do anything.

"All finished... My mom is making those cookies you like by the way," you tease, tugging on his hair, "the ones with those tiny peanut butter-"

"Cups in the middle," he finishes sharply, suddenly pulling himself away from your soft fingers in his hair. He flips himself to face you in a quick motion, a devilish look on his face as he surprises you with his sudden movement- pushing you down against his bed- his body pressed against yours as his face is so close you can feel his warm breathe fan across your lips, "trying to bribe me is a shit tactic. Won't work."

You roll your eyes, but you know he loves your mothers cooking. But you really aren't bribing him. Just a little, jokingly- he knows this too. He knows you.

"I know," you wiggle beneath him, trying to make yourself more comfortable. He rests his entire weight onto you, and it feels like you're covered in a weighted blanket, "she always leaves some aside for you anyways. Sometimes I think she likes you more than me."

Your mom adores Billy. Tries to baby him when she can. And at first that made you nervous; afraid of how he might react to it. He was wary at first but he took it well. He was charming, and good at making people like him. And you thought perhaps he secretly liked having someone try to mother him. Maybe it made him feel safe. Or happy.

"Of course she does, I mean, look at me."

It sounds so funny coming from him. He's referring to his good looks- and how Nancy Wheelers mom had tried to hit on him before.

"Don't be gross," you push down against his shoulders, not doing much to change your position or deter him. If anything it makes him worse.

But this time he relents, if only to get a look at his hair. When he looks in his mirror, you wait with bated breathe, still laying on his bed from where he'd been on top of you and pushed you there- but

His lips catch yours, hungry. He forces his tongue into your mouth, though it doesn't take him. It never does. He's intense and he isn't letting up; his hands move to dig into your hips, pushing your body deeper into his bed.

Billy's body stops resting on top of yours so heavily as he moves, placing one of his knees between your legs, and heading straight for your neck.

He always knows what to do. How to make you feel good in any situation. He's not even giving you a chance go breathe. You squeeze his biceps with your hands suddenly, letting him know you need him to stop for a moment. His baby blues look into your eyes with mild annoyance.

"Don't you want to look at your hair?" You manage to say as you catch your breath, "see if I... Messed it up?"

He looks at you in silence for a few moments, his face deadpan; too void of emotions for you to pinpoint what he's thinking. His eyes search your face and flicker from them to your own curly, thick hair  and his tongue darts out from between his lips unconsciously to wet them. He breathes through his nose.

"Nah," he brings himself close to your face again, a small tilt in the corner of his mouth, "I trust you."

[ask-dbd-wh-au]

When Y/n dies, do they come back to life somehow in order to help Wally? I noticed that Y/n seems to remember hugging Wally and then dying. Is it possible that they just keep coming back because they're needed for something? Or is it just how that universe works until they "reach the end"? (the end being saving Wally) Or is just by sheer force of will that they keep coming back?

I apologize if this question is strange, I love this AU, despite not knowing anything about Dead By Daylight and I'd love to learn more!

*cracks knuckles*

Alrighty, so let me explain a few things ‘cause many questions like these are easily answerable if you know or have played DBD before! It's understandable if you aren't familiar with the game that this au is based on to be confused or lost about these aspects of its world. So! Let me do a rough summary of how the world of Dead by Daylight (the game) works and its lore!

So, the world that our darling Y/N and Wally find themselves in is neither earth nor the neighborhood that Wally comes from, it's a realm entirely created by the Entity. The Entity is an eldritch, world/reality destroying, horror that captures survivors and killers from various universes and realities to play into its twisted games to feed off their emotions, in a sense.

Many consider it like an Emotion Vampire, it feeds on fear, desperation, rage, hope, anger, and other intense emotions.(Which is why it never allows Wally any comfort or happiness, he’s supposed to be a killer invoking terror on the survivors, not the sad lil meow meow he actually is) When a killer or a survivor becomes numb and hollow of all emotions their soul is all consumed by the Entity and it replaces them with a new victim that its captured.

With that in mind, the way the Entity has these games (or also known as trials) is incredibly integral to how the Entity feeds. These hunts and deaths you see Y/N get chased and killed in are all a part of Trials the Entity creates using worlds it has consumed before as the stage.

Each trial has 4 survivors trying to fix 5 generators so they can power up an exit gate to “escape”. This is how the Entity feeds off hope, survivors think they are escaping the nightmare that is the Entity but in actuality they are just brought back to the campfire just to go into yet another trial all over again, an endless cycle. Opposing the survivors are the killers that the Entity has captured and brought to its realm to bring out these intense emotions from survivors, some killers are more willing than others… and some… well, they learn to obey the Entity one way or another.

The killers hunt and murder the survivors and the survivors try their damndest to try and escape and that cycle repeats over and over and over again until they are emotionless husks, the Entity constantly consuming from them the whole way through. In reality, no survivors remember what happens between trials and campfires, the Entity typically wipes clean their memory so they come in like fresh juiceboxes most of the time.

However, Y/N has always had a habit of writing things down to remember small things. Now that they are in the Entitys realm, they utilized their notebooks to help retain their memories through entries of their past experiences, its the only reason why they remember past trials at all.

So TLDR: Y/N keeps coming back from death because the entity is not done feeding off them.

(on another note as well: Y/N doesnt always face Wally, it's random who you get put with each time in a Trial which is why Y/N struggled to find Wally again so much. Just as Y/N doesn’t always face against Wally, Wally doesnt always wind up in trials with Y/N and is left to his struggles with the entity alone)

Also campfires are basically a respawn point all damage you got from Trials will go away and you basically reset and your memories wiped. Y/N's notebook is incredibly essential to helping retain their memories.

I will say I'm not exactly the best at explaining things but things like google and lore videos on youtube can go even more in-depth about the lore of DBD and how the world works!

Hope this helps and thank you greatly for the ask! I love talking about DBD since its a game I love to play and its lore has always been interesting to me!

-Demi💙

[crossroadsandloudmusic]

HOT DAMN ITS BEEN A MINUTE! I know I’m sorry y’all life has just been all up in the way for the past couple weeks/months but I’m back now! It’s late where I’m at so I will get started with the Matchmaker post as soon as I can but for now please enjoy this head cannon thing I wrote for y’all, it’s been in my drafts forever now but I figured sure why not, let’s finish it up and post part 1! Terribly sorry about my sudden disappearance but I have found that nothing quite fills the void more than being on here and sharing experiences with all of you! Thank you for you patience I do apologize once again, you have all been tremendous and I love you for it.

Without further ado let’s get in to it!

Recently I went to the fair and the entire time I could only think about how the Hashira would act. Therefore I decided to write and I hope you all enjoy. (Me from the future here, went to the fair and had an amazing time! Enjoy some pictures! More at the bottom)

Btw this is all based on my opinion and has no actual evidence to back it up.

Warnings: Sanemi traumatizes entire fair. But no seriously like heights, someone almost falling off a ride. That’s it tho.

PLEASE ENJOY!

The Hashira at The Fair

Part 1!

Kyojuro Rengoku:

I love Rengoku, everyone knows that. He is my comfort character, my baby daddy, if you will. So maybe I am partial but I think he would be one of the funniest characters at the fair, let me elaborate.

In my belief, he would be in charge of the entire operation. He buys the tickets, he organizes it, he rallies everyone together, but most of all he is there to ensure that everyone has a good time AND a safe time.

“Seat belts everyone!” *in ms. Frizzle’s voice*

Think I’m playing? Absolutely not. Rengoku is on the ball when it comes to height requirements and restrictions, too tall or too short that’s too bad.

Seatbelts? Don’t make me laugh. Before the ride starts Kyojuro is running and making sure all seatbelts are up to code and are fastened. He does not care if you battle some of the most violent and horrid demons there are, you will be safe at the fair.

Will question the structural integrity of the rides themselves.

Kyojuro. They are consistently taken down and put up in a span of a week, there will be stuff missing and there will be issues. It’s best not to ask.

Nevertheless he does end up having a good time. He throughly enjoys the rides that are as follows: The Scrambler-you get into these little booths and it moves around really fast in almost a star shape pattern. Whole lot of fun, one of my favorites. The Alien Abduction- it’s just an alien ship shaped building that spins around really fast. The g force sticks you too the wall. Really fun, kinda dizzy afterwards (much like sleeping with Kyojuro). And then finally The Nitro. It’s essentially a huge swing, but it’s like a swing on steroids. It’s really fast and sends you really high, this one is prolly my favorite.

Kyojuro is pretty tame when it comes to trying all the rides and when it comes to others being too short or too tall for one of the rides, he feels that he should stay beside them and keep them company so they don’t feel left out. He really wants to make sure everyone had a good time.

On terms of food served at the fair, I think he would really enjoy funnel cakes. That isn’t to say he didn’t eat atleast one of everything. (Him and Mitsuri spent a lot of time trying the fair food. They ate 6 funnel cakes. The poor people working at the food trucks were beyond stressed with how much they were eating and buying. The lemonade guy couldn’t keep up😔).

On the subject of games, Kyojuro enjoyed the darts and ring toss. Extremely good at both and as a result came home with a ton of stuffed animals. The biggest one being a stuffed sloth. Very much enjoys his sloth and let’s it sit next to his bed. (Cuddles with it sometimes, but nobody knows). Won a ton of prizes for Shinobu and Mitsuri. Gave a bunch to Gyomie as well for the kids at the orphanage. After a short talk it was decided that they come back the next day to bring the kids.

In conclusion these are the same people and you can’t tell me otherwise. 12/10 had a great time and will be coming back.

Uzui Tengen

Oh man, Uzui Tengen and his wives at the fair. Be still my heart.

Number 1. BEFORE WE GO ANY FURTHER I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT HOW GOTDAMN CUTE THIS SHIT FINNA BE.

Number 2. Let’s not lie to ourselves or anyone else by denying that Tengen and the girls are literally the cutest relationship I’ve ever seen.

So y’all already KNOW that they gonna be having the most fun, well almost. Let me explain.

Ok so we know that Suma can be a little skittish, and Makio kinda makes it worse if I’m not gonna lie simple because when Suma does get nervous Makio can be a little harsh.

Which then results in Tengen feeling more of babysitter rather a husband taking his wives out for a fun evening. I know you maybe wondering where I’m going with this but please, bear with me.

The Ferris Wheel. A staple of the amusement industry, all with its bright lights and soaring heights, it’s no wonder it’s one of the most iconic and recognized piece of fair equipment. That being said, if you have never riding on a Ferris wheel, I do not recommend it for the faint of heart. Not it is not fast, and no it doesn’t sling you around like some of the rides, but if you have a fear of heights or just not prepared, the ride itself can be a bit jarring.

Therefore, when Tengen and his wonderful, beautiful, lovely wives all got on to the ride, it was at that moment Suma had begun to sweat. First the booth went up and then stopped, and then again, and again and again, till they were at the very top of the ride. Of course Tengen wasn’t nearly as impressed because he could jump higher than the peak of the Ferris wheel but still he acted as if he was enjoying himself. Everyone was except for Suma.

Suma clung to Tengen’s arm, this in return caused Makio to fuss. As the two of them got into it, the booth started to sway back and forth. This of course caused Suma to become even more scared.

The rest of the ride was spent trying to calm both of them down.

Btw Kyojuro was sweating the entire time as they were not adhering to the rules of The Ferris Wheel.

Absolutely shameful.

Eventually the Ferris wheel ride ended. Suma in tears, Makio still fussing all the while Hinatsuru and Tengen desperately tried to separate the two.

Rest of the evening went off without a hitch, every one of the girls got a large stuffed animal. (Tengen won these at one of those strength games. Yk the one with the big hammer and a bell at the top). (He broke it).

They all four took really cute pictures together, in fact they got several with all the hashira! 11/10 wonderful evening will definitely be coming back to the fair, next time he will be prepared for if and when Suma gets scared on the Ferris Wheel or other tall rides.

Gyomei Himejima:

Oof alright.

So.

He’s a big man, like a VERY big MAN.

7 feet 2 inches and HALF! THATS A BIG DUDE.

And I’m sure you could already understand that yes, he unfortunately wasn’t allowed on many of the rides. But☝️. He found other ways to enjoy the fair!

Let me tell y’all, this man is a BEAST at fair games. Ring toss? Boom, undefeated. Darts? Bodied. Cornhole? Didn’t even faze him. Dunk the clown? Dude shoulda just stayed in the water bc either way he was gonna get there with Gyomei throwing strikes every time. He was doing so well that carnies were getting mad. Not only that a crowd had eventually formed around him; watching in utter astonishment as the giant man (blind, giant man, was ABSOLUTELY BRUTALIZING THESE GAMES).

More specifically…the dart throwing incident.

Let me set the mood for ya. Kinda give you a bit of a visual explanation as to better explain the where, when, who, for this scene.

The sun had long set, the cool night air filled with laughter and excitement as the fair continued into the evening. Lights, music, the cacophony of peoples voices, and the smell of fried foods are what make up the atmosphere of the game booths and rides. Except for one game at the far end of a long and winding path of fair games. There an unusually large man stood with three darts in his hand. One by one he carefully picked them out and threw them towards the board. Each bullseye had a little red balloon in the center, every line had a number of prizes one could win. But if one were to hit directly in the center they would win a large prize. You had three chances to win a big prize, the target to the left, the target in the middle, and the target to the right. If someone were to hit all three bullseyes they would not only win three big prizes but they also win an extra three chances.

Kyojuro explained the rules to Gyomei and handed him the darts. Not a moment after that three distinct pops could be heard ring out in the surrounding area.

A hush fell over the people who were waiting patiently behind him, even the woman who ran the booth seemed amazed at Gyomie’s win. She allowed him to pick out three large stuffed animals and handed him the darts back.

Once more balloons were blown up and set into position, Gyomei played again.

POP!

POP!

POP!

The woman turned to see that once again all the balloons had been popped, all three darts sat perfect in the center of each target. She was flabbergasted! She couldn’t even speak, it was rare as it was seeing someone who could hit all three targets but dead center 6 times in a row?!?! She shook her head looking at Gyomei and then back at the board, once more at Gyomei and then again back at the board.

Once she regained her composure she removed the darts, filled the balloons again, and handed the darts to him.

“Well done! Let’s see if you can do it a third!” She said, she eyed him closely as she was sure something was amiss.

Now the line of people behind him turned into a small group surrounding him, they all whispered and talked amongst themselves as they watched him carefully.

Silently Gyomie picked out his darts and threw them one by one.

POP!

POP!

POP!

The crowd erupted in cheers! He had done it again! The woman now clearly sweating as Gyomie had only spent 1 dollar and had won 9 prizes! Suddenly the people that stood next to him began throwing dollars and quarters at the woman, screaming that she give him the darts and let him play again.

As more commotion began to erupt, more people were gathered to the booth to watch him play. Some of the other fair goers even went as far as placing bets on Gyomie, wagering when the woman running the booth would eventually kick him out as she was running out of balloons and prizes.

Gyomie played a perfect game 6 times before Kyojuro thought it best to go play another game. He won 18 prizes from that game alone😐. They went to the ping pong in a bowl game, he won 12 goldfish.

At the end of the night Gyomie had more prizes THAN ANYONE IN THE HISTORY OF FAIR GAME PLAYERS EVER WON. So many in fact he stood next to the Caterpillar roller coaster for the kids and gave out a toy for every kid that came by.

That night Gyomie became more than a Hashira. He became a martyr, a light for those who had been burned by sleazy fair games, never again would they lose hope as it was he who came and won them all.

13/10 he had an amazing time, but cried when the lady said he was too good and needed to play another game. He felt bad and later came back to apologize and she gave him a hug. He cried once again.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He is immediately kicked out.

Jk jk but like fr tho���� he acted a fool.

Not even gonna lie to y’all, yall see this man, no but do y’all really see this man. He is 5 foot 10 inches of pure malice. (He’s soft baby on this inside but this is not important to the story). Straight menace behavior, DO NOT TELL ME IM WRONG.

He cut every line, and when people tried to protest to this he only turned around and glared at them with his cold eyes🥶 most people would stare back and tremble in terror, one man even began to weep as he looked into Sanemi’s eyes. The man later mumbled that he had peered into hell and hell peered back. (The man was traumatized for lack of a better term, needed therapy, he’s doing better now tho).

Sanemi rode every ride and played every game, he even got into a fight with one of the clowns! (In Sanemi’s defense the clown had it coming). But besides all that Sanemi found most enjoyment out of terrifying the other participants on the rides. In one instance, he turned to the woman sitting next to him and offhandedly mentioned that the seat she was sitting in didn’t latch all the way. As it was theses seats for this specific ride had a bit of give to them when you pushed the pull down part of the harness. She instinctively pushed the bar and it moved a bit before clicking, she turned to look at him and before she had the chance to alert the ride operator, the ride began to swing.

Once the ride had finished the woman was convinced her life had nearly ended due to a faulty ride harness. She immediately got off the ride and ran into the crowd, but her fear wasn’t entirely that of the ride’s seats, it was partially because as she started to scream and beg for dear life, Sanemi erupted in laughter. The scariest part was being seated next to him for the entirety of the ride.

This some how only fueled his behavior. Next he wanted to take it to the next level. He wanted to scare everyone, the people on the ride, the operators, even those who weren’t riding. Each ride he got on he made an effort to terrify everyone. Whether it be him yelling that ride was falling apart or dropping pieces of nuts and bolts close to the operators. This only aroused his hunger. He needed to take it one step further.

There is a ride called The Umbrella, The Octopus, The plane ride, whatever you want to call it, it’s the same ride. It’s giant tower that has a bunch of swings hanging from it, first it starts of slow and low to the ground, it is then risen off the ground and high above the pavement in which it begins to swing faster. This is a VERY tame ride compared to others as it isn’t extremely fast and it’s also not extremely high when compared to the Ring of Fire (one of Sanemi’s favorites although it did make him slightly sick) and the Ferris Wheel (got bored and started throwing nuts and bolts off the side, surprisingly didn’t hit anyone but as people noticed what they assumed were parts that had fallen off the ride, left the line in search of something “safer”). Sanemi cut to the front of the line and went to find the perfect swing, one was wrapped in caution tape and the seat belt was no longer there. Quickly and quietly he removed the tape and sat down, wrapping what little remained around his waist as it then would appear he did have a seatbelt on. The operator came by and only glanced at Sanemi before going to start the ride. He sat back and chuckled knowing he was going to enjoy this more out of any other he had been on that day. Slowly the ride started and before long he was hoisted several meters from the ground, swing softly through the cool air. He took in a deep breath to savor the moment, it was relaxing being so far up from the chaos, listening to the music and watching the bright colorful lights. Without a moments notice he slipped from the seat and began to scream.

The people below looked up to one of the most horrifying sights there was to see, up in the air a man hung from his swing, his hands gripping to one of the chains that held the swing. He writhed and kicked his feet as he yelled for someone to help. Most if not all began to scream and point. Others got the attention of the operator who hurriedly tried to lower the ride. Every passenger aboard that night gripped their seats and cried. Soon the whole fair watched with bated breath, parents shielded their children, others ran to get help, most stared in shock. The whole while Sanemi cackled in between screams.

The authorities were notified and by the time they arrived with paramedics on scene, the ride had ended and Sanemi was nowhere to be found. This was because he fled and hid himself within the crowd, he caught up with Kyojuro and Gyomie. He played several games with them, all the while Kyojuro was blissfully unaware of the Sanemi’s failure to abide by the rules of the fair rides the main one being, KEEP HANDS AND FEET INSIDE THE RIDE AT ALL TIMES. (Truth be known, Sanemi did in fact have his hands in the ride with the only exclusion being his entire body).

(Sanemi also wanted to play the strong man big hammer game but Tengen had broken it earlier so it was still under repair. He was a tad disappointed and this is what I choose to believe started this entire fiasco).

10/10 had a glorious time at the fair and might come back again someday, he narrowly avoided being escorted off the premises on several occasions so the fact that he didn’t is considered a win in my book. He also single handedly traumatized, horrified, terrified, and scarred an entire group of people spreading to several rides and the riders, operators, as well as the people below the rides themselves. All of this, without being caught by Kyojuro. Truly inspiring.

[wheelsup30]

🦋 🦴 🍅 🐚 🪲 ☁️🐝 hehehe

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

I've been thinking a lot about healing, the past...a lot of years HDJFNF have brought a lot of trauma for me and I've realised that healing sometimes doesn't mean fixing. Sometimes healing is accepting that it happened and moving on, or accepting that something is a part of you and moving on.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Usually whatever I'm watching, right now it's CM, but in terms of writing style not really? I kinda just do my own thing. Same with scriptwriting 🤷‍♂️

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing

I really need to work on integrating dialogue into scenes better, a lot of my fics either barely have any or straight up don't and its kind of an issue

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises?

It depends I think, I like them if I know they're coming, like 'I've got a surprise for you' is great, but people just springing things on me (mostly if it's plans) can really really throw me off and upset me (shoutout to autism ‼️🗣🔥🫡)

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

(this is more than 50 but idc)

"Unconsciously, he seems to have shifted one of his legs closer to you. Spying an opportunity, your knees shuffle to either side of his foot and you pull him from your mouth- eliciting a choked grunt from Aaron- and start using your hand instead as you roll your hips to grind against the black leather of his lace up boots."

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

honestly it was a shot in the dark bc I thought it'd already be taken but it wasn't somehow, I wanted something cm related that still felt like a username, so I took out the 'in' in 'wheels up in 30' and boom

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@hotchfiles you were one of the first people to start interacting with me when I was still on my old sideblog, and talking to you behind the scenes too has just been very fun, you're very kind and have been so welcoming :)

@de4dlyniightshade my pookie wookie super dookie...you aren't on here a lot but I'm so excited to play silly horse game with you tomorrow :3

@softhairedhotch honestly getting to dm with you and come up with oc and hotch shit and just talk to someone who's pretty similar to me has been the highlight of my day since we started <:) you're a really cool guy

@mandarinmoons you're always in my notifs and I get so excited seeing your name HEHE

@ssahotchnerr I'm tagging you bc you're honestly the person that inspired me to get back into writing and make the old sideblog in the first place, I wouldn't be here or know these people otherwise so thank you for always killing it in your writing <3

@ficmeoutofthisworld I was always so scared of interacting a lot w ppl but the way you've rbd and replied and dmd me in the few months I've been here has really brought me out of my shell <:) tysm <3

@ralvezfanatic THE REAL MVP OF RALVEZ TY FOR OPENING MY EYES AND BEING IN MY NOTIFS ALWAYS KING 🔥🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯

[lets-try-some-writing]

⭐️ You got anything cool you wanna share? 👀

Of course!

Pretender AU Ramble:

The Pretender AU is currently my favorite Tumblr AU and let me tell you, I am slow writing for it because the plot THICKENS. The idea came into being when I saw an image of some creepy looking Megatron & Optimus artwork. Then as I sat down with my writing buddy to discuss the AU and go over some of the asks I have gotten for it to create a coherent plot, things got deeper than they originally were.

Literally no one is the good guy in the Pretender AU, despite how it may look. Megatron may seem like the hero, but he is still on his crazy train (which will be showcased later). Optimus may seem like a monster (which he is), but if you look at it, he is simply a being who was born of the wrong host. If ANYONE else had been his host, he would have been fine and the Pretenders could have integrated without issue most likely. Orion Pax would have learned of them, and possibly even gone so far as to create an alliance with these beings considering they operate a great deal like an ant colony and their abilities cannot be overlooked.

Why do I bring this up? Because Megatron is a hypocrite. He wishes to free all sentient beings. Well guess what? The Pretenders are very much sentient. He can't see that, or rather he refuses to due to the trauma of witnessing Orion Pax's slow death. He also does not see many others as sentient in light of his fear of the Pretenders. The Insecticons are on the chopping block just because they share traits with the Pretenders. Beastformers have never been looked on fondly, and in light of the Pretenders, they are also not taken to kindly. By seeing them this way, they have turned to the Pretenders (which will be shown in later writing I have planned).

By refusing to see the Pretenders are sentient beings, many other minor factions are also being thrown under the bus. This has unintentionally given the Pretenders the tools they need to endure. The Pretenders were made for a purpose, and they are really fragging good at doing their job. But Megatron refusing to let go of his personal vendetta was pretty much the only thing dragging out the war. And by doing so, he forced the Pretenders to become less emotive, more calculating, and hyperactive. It is a self destructive cycle and no one is the good guy here. Both factions make things worse for each other and they make the other group more and more fanatical just by existing. There is no victory here.

Well.

That is except for Smokescreen.

He plays the LONG game.

Extra:

Fun fact about the LTSW writing process:

Almost ALL of my fics and AU's are run past my dear friend @spreadwardiard. I come up with the concept and the base for the plot, and then they help me build the idea until we settle on an amazing story. Occasionally I work on something entirely alone, but at this point pretty everything except surprise gifts/small writing projects unworthy of serious note are given to them to think about prior to the actual written work being completed.

My work would not be nearly as interesting without their input. Having a friend to polish up an idea with really is a lifesaver.

You can tell which AU's I didn't run past them because I either don't touch them anymore, the plot/timeline is rather disjointed, or its a goofy thought rather than anything super serious. That's how much I lean on the commentary of others to really get the ball rolling for my work.

[not-poignant]

Hi Pia !! I just saw your retweet about letting authors know when you like their work, and I've been thinking about sending you an ask anyway so hereby I shall do both!!! First of all I want to tell you that I'm currently rereading Game Theory. A friend of mine told me about a fantasy world he created in his head and then let me rant to him about how much I love and adore Fae Tales, which then got me back into rereading it. While rereading, I got the notification that you're editing GT. That's so cool!!! My question for you, if you want to answer, is how does it feel to go back to GT after all this time? Besides the question I just wanted to let you know that I REALLY REALLY REALLY love GT and Fae Tales in general. Thank you so so so much for writing it. Its a huge comfort to me <3 I love you!!

is how does it feel to go back to GT after all this time?

Omg anon it's SO WEIRD

It's like getting into a time capsule.

So first up, I haven't reread Game Theory in its entirety for a few years because I find it kind of painful, a few things are out of character, and I know there's a lot of stuff to change to make it better suited as an original story and introduction to the world, and so when I start rereading it I see all the work I have to do and can't just immerse.

And that's been so annoying on a personal level, because I really believe in writing stuff you love - and for a long time I did!!

Going back to it I've found that:

Baby Pia didn't use the word 'cock' as often as I use it now. Which is kind of cute. I think I was still getting comfortable with writing explicit sex, or...something?

It's still better than I remember it. Like, as a follow on from SAL it's solid. I like the dialogue, and I like the 'feel.' I have no interest in changing that and in many ways I'm trying to remove as little as possible. I'm tightening prose/sentences, and being additive. I do know there's at least one scene I will have to remove (like Gwyn masturbating) because it's OOC and I will try and make that up to people somehow.

I really want more...background in the story. Not infodumps, but like...Gwyn actually fighting a fae driven mad because it was poisoned because of Augus' actions. Or Gwyn talking with his family. Gwyn talking to the trows!!! I'm so excited to add these sorts of scenes, things that are fleshed out and hinted at more in COFT and TIP, that I can make really robust now in GT as well. Things that I think will really strengthen the story, but also make it more captivating, and perhaps also make Gwyn more...understandable as a character. He's an extremely cold character to love if you haven't read SAL first.

I actually kind of get frustrated with how long the chapters are. I remember why I made them so long, and it was because I felt so terribly ashamed of how long the story was! So I 'hid' how long it was by condensing the number of chapters down and putting things that really deserved their own chapters into the same chapter and as a result, wrote shortcuts and really squished things that deserved more time and writing. I'm not angry at past me, I was genuinely frightened that people would hate the story if they saw a really big chapter count. And it's taken me a long time to let go of that. I know some people really like long chapters, and I think when it's appropriate it works so well, especially single sex scenes, but like...oof there are some chapters where it's like 'damn Pia you really were just trying to tell this in less than 45 chapters weren't you.'

While some folks say 'I can see how much you've grown as a writer' there's still some stuff I did better then than now. I think there's something to be said for having a long break there. Although I can also see some of my weaknesses a lot more clearly, because they're things I've like mended since then, or have been actively working on.

It's honestly been pretty fun. It's really important to me to preserve the integrity of the original story, because that's the story that got me here, and it reached people for a reason. Even if I'd write it differently now, I want to keep the basic essence of it the same. Ideally it just feels like reading 'Game Theory with some extra scenes' and all the other stuff blends into the background naturally, and doesn't feel jarring or strange.

It makes me so happy that you love Game Theory! Honestly it's folks like yourself letting me know things like this, and letting me know that you'd love to have it as a book one day, which has kept this as a dream in my head for a decade, and while I may be the world's slowest editor, the fact that this could actually come to fruition in 2024 is wild to me. Apparently it just takes me a really long time to commit to something lmao

[dove-da-birb]

Meet William Chaloner

Picrew | Picrew does not belong to me | I decided to give Chaloner a glow-up since I accidentally deleted the OG photos ; - ;

"Issac Newton's nemesis. Mischievous, outgoing, and has a knack of getting into and out of trouble. Throws apples at Newton /j If you know the thing about the Mint, then you know how petty these two are." - My OG description of him.

A conman at heart, Chaloner is willing to do just about anything to make some money all while pertaining a mask of innocence. He can read people fairly well, and use that to his advantage. Despite his cunning ways, he does let his pride get the better of him, especially when it pertains with that Warden of the Royal Mint, Issac Newton.

He doesn’t live with the other vampires and bites his thumb at Issac whenever he sees him out and about. Even after all these centuries, those two hate each other and they still fight in public.

Voice Claim; Atsushi Tamaru [yes, they will all be TWST VAs, sue me]

Birthday; November 27

Height; 183 cm

Past Occupations; Counterfeiter, coin clipper, confidence trickster, quack doctor

Current Occupation; High end clothing boutique owner

Hobbies; Counterfeiting coins and mocking Newton 

Dislikes; the authorities, Issac Newton

Specialty; Getting away with schemes

Weakness; His own pride

Favourite food; Figgy pudding

Hated food; Herring

Vampire type; Lesser vampire

Animal Companion; a rough collie named Thatcher

Some History [all Wikipedia babey, I did my time writing academic papers and this is for fun]

William Chaloner was many a thing during his most active years. A nailing apprentice. A bawdy pocket watch seller [among other things]. A quack doctor selling faux cures to plague victims. And a ‘fortune teller’ who would tell patrons where their stolen belongings were, for a price of course. And a used clothing seller.Tried conning the Bank of England as well. But what he’s best known for is his rap sheet with the Royal Mint and its warden, Sir Issac Newton.

Within his first year of producing counterfeit coins, he had already amassed a fortune and bought himself a house, a carriage to ride in, and clothing befitting a gentleman. He was briefly married for a short stint, but had to flee town due to being a person of interest in a robbery.

He repeatedly tried conning the Royal Mint. His first ploy was to pretend to be just a concerned citizen and bringing up questions about the Mint’s reputation with the amount of counterfeiting. But in January of 1696 he was taken in for questioning and he pointed the finger at the Mint for producing counterfeit coins, questioning the integrity of the people working there. “I never made a guinea in my life,” but he had, and had gotten rich because of this. He also tried to persuade the Mint to hire him, but never was accepted. 

Issac got tired of Chaloner escaping justice and eventually had a watertight investigation done on him. He even made sure a ‘hanging judge’ was the one overseeing the trial to ensure that Chaloner didn’t get away from him again. While in court Chaloner accused everyone of perjury, and thus put the blame on him in order to save their own necks. He also pretended to go mad while locked up, but that didn’t fool Newton. In the end, William Chaloner was found guilty of treason, for the act of counterfeiting coins.

"Present" [aka when MC gets teleported to the mansion]

He mainly makes an honest living nowadays, but he still has that mischievous streak in him. Once he sees Issac out in the street he goes back into counterfeiting currency, and it's an entire benny hill scene, and you're caught up in the middle of this mess. Chaloner hates Newton because 'the bloke' tried to get him executed, whereas Newton hates Chaloner because the man tried to make a fool out of him. He throws apples at Newton, and Issac throws rope at Chaloner; it's a mutual relationship.

Tagging; @azulashengrottospiano [and also jackdaw anon I hope you see this too ^v^]

[dolceaspidenera]

Hey everyone, here's the second entry for my playlists of the Touch Starved characters and this time is Ais' turn (gosh I'm obsessed with this man)!

You can find the complete playlist on Spotify at this link

Of all the characters' playlists, this is the most metal-packed one, let's see how many metalheads are hidden in this fandom 🤘🏻😁 As always, feel free to let me know what you think and, if you want, to share your own playlists, I'd really love to geek together about music and Touch Starved!

A couple of thoughts on my song choices

I think Ais is a much more complex character than he appears to be and despite this, he strikes you with a disarming simplicity. His being a black sheep and an outcast creates a sense of affinity that is easy to empathize with, while his disarming honesty about feeling alone gives the final blow in all its rawness. He is a misfit who pretends to be okay with it but deep down yearns for connection, he presents himself as violent and dangerous (which he definitely is) and yet deep down he is also caring, vulnerable and lonely. 

Which musical genre, therefore, is better suited to those who feel a bit like black sheep and marginalized by their community than heavy metal? Heavy metal, despite the many groups that have literally made the history of music, was originally mocked and denigrated, considered transgressive, dangerous music and swamped by criticism and prejudice. At the same time, it was able to gather around those who felt outcasts and enable them to express all the rage and frustration that come with it, while finding a sense of pride and membership. Metal is by its nature a genre without filters, it enters your guts creating raw emotions and I think it is the most suitable to describe Ais, who, in his very design, clearly bears the signs and brand of metalheads (rings, bracelets and leather belts and studded boots) and I am convinced that it is no coincidence.

Songs with an irreverent nature like Bad Reputation and Highway to Hell were obvious choices, Bad Boys Are Here in particular suited Ais' fondness for brawling, as well as being reminiscent of his gang, while Evil Eyes is rather self-explanatory. I then wanted to add a few more "angry" songs that well describe his situation with Ocudeus both musically and with their lyrics; Hive Mind, Domination, Master of Puppets and Perfect Insanity speak for themselves, while The Thing That Should Not Be was simply a must considering that it was written taking inspiration from Lovecraft works. Inside The Fire is perhaps the piece that requires a little more interpretation but it made me think of all the people who have found themselves choosing to drink from the Seaspring in the past.

Also, I added several songs, Flip in particular, which have peculiar sound influences and reminded me of the Ais' and Seaspring's music themes (which are the best pieces of the whole demo in my humble opinion), as well as being spot-on even as lyrics. Nobody's Listening caught my attention for the Japanese flute integrated into the song which refers to all the elements of oriental culture present in Ais' design and it was immediately a perfect match. Smoke and Water could very well have been written for Ais since it fits him perfectly, it's dark, eerie and sexy at the same time.

Finally, to highlight the most vulnerable sides of this multifaceted character (and to take a breather amidst all the angst-filled songs), I chose songs like Lonely Day (which speaks for itself), Demons of Pain and Fear of The Water, which fits very well with a scenario where MC decides to drink from the Seaspring. 

I started with the good purpose of keeping it short ad ended up writing sooo much, I'm sorry. If you read this far, thank you! If you also happen to listen to this playlist and enjoy it, double thank you and congratulations, you have excellent music taste! 🫵🏽🤘🏻

[the1975attheirverybest]

I know its silly and been done before but could you write something short about Matty and the reader having an argument and she leaves his house and he is running after and trying to apologize

Not silly at all! Here’s a little something! Hope you like it :-)

——

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this, Matty. You’ve clearly been drinking.” She turned her back to him, walking out of the living room and into the kitchen to get a sip of water.

“Was at a party. Of course I’ve been drinkin.’ Why does that matter, though? What I’m sayin’ still stands!” He puffed his chest, clearly irritated. “Where’ve you gone. We’re havin’ a conversation, come back here.”

She took a sip out of her glass, feeling the water run down her throat and relieve the dryness she’d felt since this ridiculous argument started.

“Doesn’t feel like much of a conversation when you’re steam rolling me and raising your voice. Can we, just, do this later?”

“I don’t wanna do it later. I wanna do this now.” He stomped his foot dramatically.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re being petulant.”

“I am not. You just have nothin’ of substance to say and you know I’m right. Just admit it!”

“Matty-“

“Admit it! Go on! You know me, I’ll throw my hands up and say ‘I’m wrong; you’re right,’ if you can convince me that I’m actually wrong. I’m not without integrity. But, when I’m right, and you’ve got nothin’ else to say, I’d like the same respect paid to my perspective, as well. Is that such a fuckin’ crime? Hmm?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head repeatedly in shock. “What? What’re you even saying? Do you hear the words coming out of your mouth right now? That’s what I mean about steam rolling! Why’re you on about fuckin ‘integrity’ and ‘perspectives.’ That was a shitty thing you did. Just say you’re sorry, don’t make it a thing!”

“You’re not listening to me!” He ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the roots and sighing loudly. “Listen- let’s start from the beginning. When I said-“

“No! You’re the one whose not listening! I said I didn’t want to talk about it right now. Not while you’re tipsy and getting aggressive and in my face about it. You know what? Fuck this, I’m out of here.”

She dumped the rest of her glass in the sink, setting it down with a loud thud and walking out of the kitchen.

“Where the fuck are you goin’ now! We’re not finished discussing-“

Matty watched her grab her bag from the hanger by the door, unlock the gate, and sprint right out. Not paying him any attention.

“Babe, wait! It’s late! You can’t-“

The door slammed shut behind her, shutting him the hell up.

The echoes of the door closing died down quickly, complete silence descending on the room in an instant. It made him uncomfortable. There was a finality to it that felt forceful. Mostly because it forced him to replay the whole interaction in his admittedly hazy, unfocused mind.

He walked back into the living room, throwing himself down on the couch. He fished his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. 13 minutes past midnight. He’d driven her to his place earlier in the day, so he knew she didn’t have her car. Which meant she was probably walking out in the streets alone. In the pitch darkness. He went into his phone log and pulled up her name and contact info, his finger hovering over the “call” button.

“Oh for fucks sakes” he muttered to himself and sprung to his feet, grabbing his keys and rushing out the door to catch up to her.

“Baby! Please wait!! Hold onnnn” he jogged up the street once he’d spotted her.

The sound of his voice startled her. She turned around, stunned. “What the fuck, Matty! Go away.”

“No- wait- fuck!” He was starting to run out of breath. “Hold on. Don’t say shit like that, if someone sees us they’ll think I’m some creep trying to harass you on the street.” He bent forward to catch his breath, resting his hands on his knees.

“Baby, please, listen-“

“Matty, all I’ve been doing is listening. I said i wasn’t interested in your-“

He interrupted her with a finger on her lips. “Wait- let me just catch a - a breath. Fuckin hell.” He took a deep breath, his heart rate beginning to even out. “Okay, look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I was being a dick. It’s not right. Please, okay? You don’t wanna accept my apology right now, that’s okay. I’ll wait and tell you, again, how sorry I am, in the mornin’ once I’m sober. But- please don’t go. Don’t leave like this! And certainly don’t walk alone at night.”

He straightened his posture and extended his hand out to her. “Take my hand? Please? Walk back inside with me?”

She hesitated briefly, watching him with doubtful eyes. She could see, from the look on his face, that he was being genuine. Besides, Matty was never the type to simply apologize just to end an argument. If anything, he was the exact opposite. Sometimes stubbornly refusing to accept his mistake, unless one could prove to him, without a shadow of a doubt, that what he did or said was objectively wrong. She took his hand in hers, relenting to his pleas.

“Thank you! Yes, thank you!” He squealed and kissed her forehead, taking her under his arm protectively. “Never do that again! storm out at night. Scared me shitless, alright?”

She simply giggled and rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t get you out of apologizing in the morning.”

“No, I know. Just- hate thinking I sent you into danger by being an asshole…”

“You do realize you like in a pretty fancy neighborhood.”

“Even so! No walking alone in the dark. Ever!”

“Yes, sir.”

[bunnieshoneys]

gonna prob reread coanda when u do the updates and stuff so ignore me if im askin smth that was already mentioned/someone already asked. but are we ever gonna get more detail on gojos past where he was sleeping around with older men? also would i be right in deducing that he did that not only as experimentation but also cause he knew he liked geto and maybe thought he was straight? like that dude from the past. lorenzo? also did? man sorry if its annoyin to ask but lmao ugh i wish we had some more of gojos past like. his innermost thoughts about suguru. i cannot imagine anything other than just lovesick pining and longing jdjd anyway love ur fic thanks a lot for sharing!

probably not. if u reread coanda i think theres a scene where gojo heavily implies he’s gay before any level of experimentation - after the kiss between him and the much older woman in europe. he doesnt say it outright, basically to give both boys some plausible deniability, but i dont think theres any part of him that is ever confused about his sexuality.

the older men are just what ends up being available. its meant to draw attention to how gojo has literally no one his own age to spend time with and the inherent exploitative nature of child athletes / young athletes being immersed in sports cultures that are at times intensely toxic. its not really about gojos sexuality, or about getous jealousy. that plot line is there to highlight, that despite getou largely holding gojo up on a pedestal and thinking he integrates well, gojo is still struggling. Even if gojo isnt aware of it himself.

gojos love for getou though is a complicated beast. id say hes semi-aware of it but willing to shove it down bc what hes got going for him is pretty good. hes willing to hide One Thing to keep racing with his teammate, and stay friends, and maybe when theyre done racing they can have each other. then we get into 2013/2014 and he thinks getou hates him and hes just desperstely trying to scrape together their friendship.

lorenzo is a plot device more so than a character, designed to showcase a) gojo’s childish jealousy b) getous relative skill level and struggles in the sport and c) the difficulty of being queer in this particular sport, and in general. the scene with him in 2014 has been planned for a while, meant to showcase the choices that getou has made for his career thinking it was the only way… only for it not to be the only way. theres no details on who lorenzo was sleeping with but he is older than gojo and getou (getou was 17 in the GREC, he was in his early twenties, probably 21-22)

:3

im going to write some alt pov stuff eventually, so maybe itll be expanded upon but heres the official authors notes

[daresplaining]

I recently read a post on how Peter Parker can be interpreted as jewish, which got me thinking: when did Matt's catholicism become important to his characterization? Was it always part of his background?

To be flip: Catholicism became important to Matt's characterization when Chip Zdarsky sat down at his computer to write the first issue of the current Daredevil run.

Obviously, I'm being a little reductive. This is a concept that has existed for years...but it's tough to pin down when it started, where it came from, or why the heck it is so pervasive, because the actual comics material to back it up is (or was, prior to the past few years) minimal-to-nonexistent. My initial answer would have been that it has never been important to his characterization and was only tangentially implied to be part of his background until recently, but I know people will disagree with that assessment, so I am going to elaborate.

This is something that has always baffled me as a Daredevil fan, obsessive completist, and someone who feels like they have a decent grasp of Matt Murdock's character. Every time I hear someone claim that religious faith is an important DD ingredient, I wonder if I've stumbled into an alternate universe containing a completely different set of Daredevil comics. It's a little old now, but The Other Murdock Papers wrote a great essay on this phenomenon, which also addresses some other popular DD misconceptions (like the idea that Matt is sexually promiscuous). I want to single out one point she makes in particular, because it addresses a possible source of misinterpretation: "There has been plenty of religious imagery in Daredevil, particularly in stories like Born Again. Religious imagery doesn’t make the main character a regular church-goer, however."

As she mentions, the idea of a devoutly Catholic Matt Murdock mostly seems to exist because some key creators with big platforms like to think it does and have put it out into the zeitgeist, essentially making it a thing through word-of-mouth. She points out Kevin Smith and Joe Quesada in particular, whose actual run on the comic doesn't support this characterization, in my opinion (the whole point of "Guardian Devil" is that Matt has been poisoned with a neurotoxin that makes him think and behave irrationally, so that when someone tells him a baby is demonic, he believes them). However, Kevin Smith also had ties to the 2003 movie (he was even in it!), which does lean into the idea of a religious Matt. I have heard Charles Soule talk bafflingly in interviews about the importance of faith in Matt's life, without elaborating on how he reached that conclusion. And of course, the Netflix show heavily utilized this characterization-- though, I will emphasize, with a clearly-delineated in-universe excuse: Netflix Matt was orphaned as a child and raised in a church-affiliated orphanage, by nuns. 616 Matt was not (and hell, even Netflix Matt was presented as being pretty much non-practicing as an adult). Despite this blatant multiversal distinction, the further validation of this characterization by the show-- putting the idea of devoutly Catholic Matt Murdock into mainstream media and birthing a crowd of new fans unfamiliar with the comics, for whom this is a key part of his character-- seems to have prompted the recent batch of DD writers to aggressively integrate it into their runs. Soule did it first, and now Zdarsky seems to have made it his main reference point for writing the character (when in doubt, have Matt think about "doing God's will" or have Foggy joke about so-called "Catholic guilt"!). Thus, what was essentially just a fan theory with powerful fans, based on a few panels here and there, has circled around and made its way more fully into the source material...at least for the moment. The most Catholic Matt in all of Daredevil comics, by a wide margin, is the one who exists right now in the Zdarsky/Checchetto run.

All of that being said, I do not have a religious background myself, and so my ability to identify subtle signs of faith in fictional characters is probably not the best. But being a nerd who has obsessively read and re-read every issue of Daredevil, I feel I can at least make some concrete overall claims about the on-panel contents of the past 58 years-worth of DD comics:

Matt Murdock does not go to church.

We don't really ever see him pray.

He isn't concerned about things like "sinning" in a religious context, and breaks legal and moral laws all the time. (For example, as touched upon by The Other Murdock Papers, he has happily slept with most (if not all) of his romantic partners and has only married one of them. It's my understanding that practicing Catholics have a rule about that).

He has, famously, had many, many, many experiences with pain, grief, fear, and hopelessness, and in 99.5% of cases (see below for exceptions), God has not come up in his thoughts and reactions.

If I can go on a slight tangent, this gets into something that I've always found compelling about long-form media like Big Two superhero comics, which is how much of the character interpretation and even the sense of "canon"/continuity comes down to the reader's personal preferences, both conscious and subconscious. There is so much material, and so many opportunities for varying interpretations of that material, that two fans can love the same character for completely different, even mutually exclusive, reasons. I've thought about this a lot when it comes to the question of Matt and religion in particular, since it is such a muddled and contested subject. I do my best to treat this topic objectively, but I am nevertheless biased (as is The Other Murdock Papers, and as are Kevin Smith, Joe Quesada, Charles Soule, and Chip Zdarsky) in part because my preferences have impacted what I actually remember from my DD reading/re-reading. As a fan who does not connect to this characterization, find it interesting, or-- to be honest-- particularly like it, my tendency is that when I come across one of the few scattered panels that hints toward it, I either diminish it as an out-of-character quirk of that particular writer/run or just forget about it completely. However, a Daredevil fan who does enjoy and identify with this characterization will see those same few scattered panels and grant them huge importance. If you asked that fan this same question, you would likely get a completely different answer, and possibly examples that I've forgotten about because I subconsciously didn't assign them any significance. They might even have a completely different answer for when this characterization originated. Maybe Matt makes an offhand religious reference somewhere in the Stan Lee/Gene Colan run that I wouldn't even think to go back and include. It's all subjective, even something as seemingly irrefutable as panels (or lack thereof) on a page. On top of everything else already mentioned, I think this is a key reason for the huge discrepancies surrounding this question. The people who like devoutly religious Matt really like him, and the people who don't really don't, and there are so few pieces of actual evidence that it really does come down to personal preference.

But anyway, none of this is what you asked! Regarding an on-the-page origin, the earliest place I remember noting some indication of Matt at least possibly having some kind of religious background is in Daredevil volume 1 #169 from 1981, when he and Detective Nick Manolis are discussing whether Daredevil should have killed Bullseye:

Matt: "Nick, men like Bullseye would rule the world-- were it not for a structure of laws that society has created to keep such men in check. The moment one man takes another man's life in his own hands, he is rejecting the law-- and working to destroy that structure. If Bullseye is a menace to society, it is society that must make him pay the price. Not you. And not me. I-- I wanted him to die, Nick. I detest what he does...what he is. But I'm not God-- I'm not the law-- and I'm not a murderer." Daredevil vol. 1 #169 by Frank Miller, Klaus Janson, Glynis Wein, and Joe Rosen

I don't think you have to be religious to say something like that last line, but it can easily and reasonably be read that way. However, I would not call Miller's run the origin of this characterization.

Another formative example that comes to mind is from O'Neil's run, also from the early 80s. One issue (#194) presents a self-contained story of Matt encountering a Christian-based cult of sorts, in which Matt demonstrates a familiarity with the Bible:

Matt: "Okay, I'll go. But what about Jeremiah?" Nahum: "He is smitten. He has been judged. The Book says--" Matt: "I'll tell you! The Book says, 'Wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself.' You'll find it somewhere in St. Paul." Daredevil vol. 1 #194 by Denny O'Neil, Klaus Janson, Glynis Wein, and Joe Rosen

These are, as stated, scattered panels in otherwise non-religious runs, though (as mentioned) the Miller/Mazzucchelli era does make thematic use of Judeo-Christian religious imagery.

Personally, I would designate Ann Nocenti's run as the true origin of this characterization-- and in fact, Zdarsky has named her run as a key source of his inspiration. Nocenti leaned into Christian themes and imagery as well-- which, again, does not inherently make the characters Christians-- but there are also a few memorable moments that suggest Catholicism has/had more than a passing presence in Matt's life. He actually does Confession at one point, for instance, when his life has been destroyed and he is feeling lost and regretful-- though we also learn that this is not habitual for him; that he hasn't done this sort of thing in "many, many years":

Matt (thinking): "Rustling. Stiff, starched cloth. One humble heartbeat. He's in there. Smells of incense, of piety. Holier than thou. Holy water? No. Plain old tap water. Crumbled host, spilled wine on his robes. Plain flour and water. Store bought, inexpensive wine. His body. His blood." Matt: "Father... Forgive me Father...for I have sinned. It has been...many, many years since my last confession. I have...over the years, used my fists to get what I want. I have beaten many men." Daredevil vol. 1 #267 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., Al Williamson, Gregory Wright, and Joe Rosen

Matt also gets pulled into Hell in this run (which is an established setting in the Marvel Universe) and yells at Mephisto, giving us this line:

Matt: "But there is another watching you-- and he forgives you, and I forgive you, and we all do for all time--" Daredevil vol. 1 #282 by Ann Nocenti, John Romita Jr., Al Williamson, Gregory Wright, and Rick Parker

With Nocenti's run as the foundation, we then have DeMatteis' run. If Ann Nocenti originated the concept, J.M. DeMatteis leaned in hard (well...harder, anyway). One issue includes a spread showing, blatantly, a sequence of Matt kneeling in church at various points in his life. Later, in the wake of a huge mental breakdown after a repressed memory emerges of a murder he might have committed, Matt has a moment with his mother, Sister Maggie, in which he asks for forgiveness, which she tells him that only God can give (a pretty cold way for Maggie to treat him, but that's a conversation for another post). He then jumps off a building with the intention of committing suicide, before giving us this narration:

Caption: "No! He's many things-- but he's not a coward. And this is surely a coward's death. Maggie's right, he realizes. I've got to find my own way. My own penance. My own road to redemption. And that's between me...and God." Daredevil vol. 1 #348 by J.M. DeMatteis, Cary Nord, Bill Reinhold, Christie Scheele, and Michael Higgins

There are a few other moments here and there, but if we're talking about origins, I would, in summary, point to Nocenti in the 80s as an instrumental starting point, to DeMatteis in the 90s as her primary successor, and then to Soule and Zdarsky, who have solidified the concept in a major way during the past few years, taking any implied religiousness in Matt's backstory and bringing it into his present characterization.