#like the mass murder was still very much his choice but like it took him a while to get there

[genderjester]

lately there's been a darkness growing within him

[i-write-things]

Cuddle Spider

(Yan! Chrollo x Willing! Reader)

It is in human nature to seek warmth. Achieving homeostasis is a characteristic of all living things. When we are cold, we seek warmth, be it physically or emotionally.

Imagine being freezing outside, and right next to you is a fire. But you are not allowed to cuddle up to said fire. You can only admire. A mysterious force is holding you back from gratifying yourself with such a comfort.

That is you right now. You are the one freezing. The cold is a combination of it being winter, and the AC running too much for your liking. Even as you sit on the edge of the bed you feel no warmth. The fire is the very man sitting across from you in a chair, reading and unbothered by the temperatures. And the mysterious force is your conscious.

A part of you wants to cuddle up to him. You're well aware he would be willing to do so. He's not doing a hefty task currently. Even if he only wanted to continue reading, who could hold you and read. His heat would be certainly welcome. Not to mention, the feeling of safety that comes with being wrapped up in his arms.

However, you feel- no, you know this is wrong. This man, though charismatic, intelligent, and thoughtful in his own unique way, is a monster. He took you. Without your consent, he scooped you up and away. And while you no longer have to worry about taxes, morons for customers and coworkers, and feeling touch starved, it doesn't change the fact he is not a good person. He steals things that are considered to be national treasures for the sake of, not even riches nor status, but rather for the thrill of the swiping. And also for a second reason you couldn't quite decipher, though you have your interpretations as to what he meant.

Still. That wasn't even the worst of it. As you look at him now- his raven colored hair hanging over his forehead, covering up that mysterious tattoo and just barely dangling over his eyes. Enigmatic, deep stone colored eyes that carefully scan over the contents of the page that tells a tale of who knows what.- he acts so calm. He is calm, really. But how? After all he's done, the stealing of precious valuables, stealing of people, the mass murderings...You just can't seem to wrap around your head how he can sit here, so relaxed and at ease, all whilst knowing the atrocities he's committed.

And yet, despite this, you still feel that compelling urge to crawl into his lap. To get him to lay down on the bed you now share, and lay down on his chest, his muscular arms creating a safe haven for you. Is it real love you experience, or is it the succumbing to Stockholm Syndrome? The latter being the most likely choice in this scenario. You've been kept here for what you estimate to be about 9 or 10 months. Truthfully, you have no real idea, but this is simply your best guess, judging by the weather and seasons. Though, it feels more like a year or 2 than anything.

Stockholm Syndrome was doing funny things to you. It made you crave the touch of a man you should despise with all your might. You continue to stare and think deeper and deeper about this. Truly, you where the beauty and he was the beast. Although he was an alternate, more backwards version. He started off as the handsome prince, then revealed himself to be a beast.

You and Chrollo. Beauty and the best. You chuckle at the thought. A grave mistake to make while staring at the chap. His observant eyes picked up to you, and a small, amused smirk sneaks onto his face as well.

"What's so funny?" He asked charmingly, as if you had just giggled at a joke he made.

"I-Its...nothin'. Just um...just a dumb thought I had."

"Care to share?"

"As I said, it's pretty dumb. it wasn't even all that funny, really."

"Then what's holding you back from telling me. You seemed as carefree as the wind when you where staring at me a couple of moments ago." His mouth transformed from an amused smirk, to a smug grin. Jerk. Doesn't he know how pretty he looks when he does that? He probably does.

"I-..." Your words die on your tongue and go back down your throat. Of course he knew you where looking. He's Chrollo fucking Lucilfer, of all people.

You have a couple of options. You can compliment him. Distract his thoughts, but you know from experience he will take it, and not give you your reward of changing the subject. You could insult him. But...something tells you not to, and it isn't fear. Just a feeling that you don't want to. You could flip the tables, and ask him what he thinks it is, but he would turn it once more and back to you. He was crafty with his words like that. Lying would be fruitless, as he would know immediately. He knows all your ticks and give aways. Your only option is the truth, and hope he doesn't feel insulted.

"I was just thinking...this whole...thing. It reminds me of beauty and the beast."

"Assuming I'm the beast?" He raises an eyebrow. "and what whole thing are you referring to?"

"I just- Well, um. Okay, yes. in this situation, you are the beast. Or at least, a reverse version. You used to be the handsome prince, and now you're the beast. And the thing I was referring to is...y'know, the not letting me go, thing."

"Hm..." He watches you for a moment with those predatory eyes before speaking. "You thought I was the handsome prince. Though I have revealed my true colors, my looks haven't changed."

Jerk. Handsome jerk.

"Well, yes," You sigh, knowing exactly what he was suggesting. And, it was true. "You're looks haven't changed and...you maybe still are um...y'know. But that doesn't take away from the fact you're a beast."

"I'll take that as a compliment. The beast did anything he could for Belle, if I'm not mistaken. And she did fall for him at some point as well. Are you sure you're still Belle and I'm the beast in this whole 'thing', as you put it?"

"It's only Stockholm Syndrome." You scoff playfully, not being able to help the small smile as you cross your arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I said it was just- oh."

You realize your mistake. A very, very stupid one.

You just admitted you having fallen for him. And that stupid smug grin you so dearly want to either kiss or smack off his face isn't helping.

"L-look, okay, I admit-"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He queries, going to sit beside you on the edge of the bed. His hand started to slowly creep up and down your bicep, causing goosebumps to wake in his touch. Something he felt and was aware of.

"B-because I...W-well.." You nervously spout, looking for any sort of out. You can't tell this...this psychopath your true feelings. Instead of saying something smug, he does something worse:

He waits patiently and silently as you dig yourself into a deeper whole. Of course, you could deny, deny, deny. But...the fire is so close. Despite the force holding you back....if you could only just...relent a little. Besides, you'd feel releived, wouldn't you? Like finally telling your childhood crush you like them while on the playground at recess. That's exactly what this is. You're both on the playground, and he is your silly little crush, and none of this will matter. That doesn't stop your hummingbird of a heart.

Taking in a deep breath, with a face radiating the warmth you wish you'd receive from Chrollo, you finally talk. "Look, I just...Ok. I'm not even sure if I should love you. I mean, yes, I do love you, and I do want to be held and I secretly enjoyed it everytime you held me at night these past couple weeks. I cannot deny the way my h-heart skips everytime your gorgeous eyes observe my every action. Though I find it creepy, I also find it very fascinating. But I still feel like this isn't right. You-You stole many things, killed many people, and outright took me. I just- I just feel like I'm not supposed to love you."

He stares at you quietly for a beat or two after. For a moment, you're afraid you babbled on too fast, and he'd make you repeat yourself. But that's dumb for two reasons. 1. he can see and move faster than you can comprehend. 2. he speaks up after.

"None of your situation calls for normal circumstances. In the world you live in right now, your options are limited."

"Yes, but...-" Your chin is lifted up with his index finger and now you face him. What a sappy, cliche move. It doesn't prevent the already prevalent blush on your face to increase, however.

"You don't have to feel a certain way just because society wouldn't be pleased with it. After all, society wouldn't be pleased about any of this. And yet, no matter what, this will happen, anyway. So why care? It's not as though society has tried to save you."

He raises a point. A fair one, at that. That, doubled with the fact you so badly want to crawl into his arms right now. Who is stopping you? No one has dared help you before. Why should you care?

"I can see the stirring in your mind. You know I'm right." He states. You nod quietly.

"Then, what are you going to do about it?"

After a moment of silence, you give in. You gently push him back down to lay on the bed. At first, his eyebrows raise in surprise. He didn't think he convinced you to go this fast. But his confusion is soon quelled with an answer as you lay down on him, cuddling up to him in a much more wholesome manner than he thought you would. His expression softens. As you lay your head on his chest and curl up to him, he wraps his warm, protective arms around you. The book and mysterious force now gone. It all had dissolved much like a weak resolute in a strong resolvent. He let's out a peaceful, happy sigh, and you follow suit.

"You know, I've known about how you felt for some time." He reveals.

...Honestly, you knew. You are well aware nothing gets passed him. You where only just saving yourself from the embarrassment of admitting, and from the force that had held you back for what felt like a year.

"I know," you sigh "I'm just glad I get to do this now. Is it....is it okay of we do it more often?"

He let's out a handsome chuckle "Of course, my dear. How can I say no to denying you of what you desire when it's something as simple and precious as this? I had a feeling you might like this. Before I took you away, you where quite the cuddle bug."

"Hmm....." You hum. "Cuddle spider." You correct, nuzzling his chest. This felt much better than just staring at him from afar.

"Yes," he chuckles, liking your little pun. "My cuddle spider."

[ctheathy]

Yan! Miles Prower(Where was my Hero) or Yan! Nine(Prime) your choice please.Just basic headcannons for either one is fine please. Have a good day too

Yandere Miles Prower [Where Was My Hero] Headcanons

Miles “Tails” Prower x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author’s note : Good afternoon, Nonnie~! You’re in luck, I’ve been having immense brainrot about these two for the past month or so, because of this I’m willing to write for the both of them in separate posts.

We’ll start with Miles from Where Was My Hero? due to him being the first when it comes to the villain Tails concept. He also feels a whole lot more personal on my end, so that’s why =}

Yandere Nine + Differences ➷

WWMH Tails/Reader [Romantic]

+Slight Nine x Reader in bonus section [Romantic//platonic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs ⚠️ :

Possessive+Predatory behaviour • Sadistic behaviour [Not directed torwards darling] • Cunning characteristics • Descriptions of intense bullying • Delusions • Co-dependency • Implications torwards mass murder • Suicidal implication • stalking • Abuse of power

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This version of the Miles we all love and adore has been a very ... Ill-treated character. He’s been met with uncountable variants of both harassment and bullying, having him shown specifically being pushed around a lot by his persecutors. Other examples being his work getting destroyed to bits, nasty stares being given, insults being thrown left and right when given his presence, and pretty much just tormenting the poor thing to no end, for absolutely no reason nonetheless. The invalid reasonings and arrogant choices having turned his life into a living hell for the longest time. Yet even so, he still remained to be a sweet and gentle soul, but all it took was one last hit to completely push him over the edge.

You could have met the fox throughout his youth or perhaps even through adulthood, but that wouldn’t change anything within the unnatural behaviours the mobian would indicate torwards you in particular. Though there would certainly be quite the difference in both states when it comes to how his emotions seem to appear, the potential for yandere characteristics have always been there. And pushing him to that condition wouldn’t even be too difficult in itself, it honestly only requiring holding the bare minimum of decent behaviours. But as mentioned before, there will definitely still remain a few important changes out there in both his habits and mannerisms to take note of when describing the specific ageing state of his.

For example; there should be noted that he’d be one to fall a whole lot quicker at a younger age, the immense shock yet immediate admiration already glowing in his eyes right off the bat when you do as much as defend him from the bystanders’ ridicule. Even just not looking down upon him like any other he has crossed paths with can already make the fox completely smitten with ease, almost making the fox cling to you like it’s the only bit of life support left for him. His adoration is also one to grow rather quickly over time, inserting his obsessive streaks who are slowly starting to find themselves into both of your lives right off the bat. Young Miles isn’t necessarily one to stand to violence at any early points, but that really does not mean he’s not capable of it if it fits his desires. But for now on, he’d much rather prefer to just let you do whatever you want to him, and perhaps acts on the unsavoury side that include watching you from afar and collect any of the potential items you may leave behind right for the taking, having no realisation over the fact how creepy his ways truly are, despite how much his delusions may try to convince him otherwise. Other than the stalker-ish tactics he may hold, he couldn’t really be considered harmful torwards his darling in any way, but it’s rather his own stability and the safety of anyone around which is put at intense risk.

Where the real threat comes in is how he’d quite literally do anything his beloved asks of him, and while these may just be small and innocent gestures, this could also include those who could be considered dangerous or even meant as ill-intented. If his darling is one to be the manipulative type, it’s only then when real victims start to appear. It unquestionably confirming the fact that he’d really be just as dependent on you as the original Tails Prower would, and while Miles may have been identical to him at some point, you’d be able to notice how careless he actually grows torwards any other life over time. Starting to view them as lack of priority and instead just wanting to concentrate on the goal of keeping you satisfied with him.

When he became an adult, however ... He is described to have straight up become a sadistic, uncaring and perhaps even considered detached mobian right after the accident; being robbed of all emotion and feelings zero remorse for any other being out there in a way of advancing the little bird that had lost its life for his sake. The most fitting way to directly say it would just be saying that he’s apathetic; apathetic torwards any life around his own. Though I don’t believe that to be entirely true. Not for this case, at least. As right on the other hand, when having met him around the matured years of his, he’d fall harder than his younger self, but he seems to have trouble showcasing this; while clearly being more gentle with his darling in indirect mannerisms, he’d unfortunately still remain rather dispassionate when it comes to their affectionate demeanour showing, the fear of both betrayal and slight distrust in their genuineness holding him back, much like it would with Nine aswell.

But unlike Nine, Miles could be considered to be a whole lot more low-key; operating as a cold and calculated mobian and usually keeping to himself in order to keep his schemes under control, where Nine instead has no hidden motives to concentrate on. Miles’ behaviour would very much symbolise that of a chess player; gaining the upper hand and power through manipulation and being more patient in the category than Nine is. Another thing that should be mentioned is how you can barely even read the fox’ facial expressions and body language, it almost seeming as if it has been plastered into a mere poker face on the daily, making it difficult to keep up with any plans and tricks he might have up his sleeve.

Another thing I’d wish to concentrate on is how forceful and cunning he can become in his position of power when the darling is one to be disobedient. Though never wishing to cause any physical harm onto his darling, and absolutely demolishing anything and everyone that manages to even lay a finger on them; I can however see him enjoying the idea of toying with them. May that be through small tactics that could affect you emotionally or overall just playing with your desire for escaping, even if he has made it very obvious that leaving isn’t even an option for you anymore. He’d likely be one to get your hopes up, only to crumble all of it into bits at the last second. Much like the adjustments he’s made on his own self over the years, specifically the spider-like antennae on his back would also be something that could definitely describe the fox and his characteristics. When you manage to find your way into his heart, there’s unquestionably no getting out of it. This part of the dynamic could very much resemble the prey and predator trope, much like being stuck in the web of the insect itself.

Having worked himself up to an incredibly high rank, he’s most certainly going to take you in with or without your consent. It’s not like he doesn’t care about your feelings and boundaries, but he believes other topics to be prime concern, especially when being very well aware of the fact that it’s quite the opposite of safe out there. All he’s doing it for is in order to keep you secure and sheltered-! Yeah... Atleast, that’s what he tells himself. When realistically, hidden somewhere in the back of his head, it’s much closer to keeping the core that keeps his mental state stable locked up for his own stability. Even as he got older, the only real things who’d ever treated him decently being his machinery creations aside from-well-- you. But he’d never be able to admit to himself that he is still this reliant on another, especially after making himself out to be so independent as the feared and well-known mastermind everyone knew him as. But another thing that would have pushed him on edge even further would be the fact that it’s still undoubtedly dangerous out there. He knows his creations have the mechanics to target and attack anything moving, and he sure as hell doesn’t want you to fall victim to his robotic comrades.

Even when abducted, I can the fox being rather on the paranoid side, questioning his ability to keep you safe while being such a wanted delinquent. If anything, you may or may not already be able to notice a pinch of his sanity slipping away even further if you manage to get hurt in the slightest. I can also see the fox having quite the struggle when it comes to showing you his genuine intentions and emotions. Hiding his true feelings behind a large wall that seemingly lacks any kind of emotion... But if anything, it might even be the complete opposite when paying attention to the little details; perhaps when diving deeper into it, he might even be considered as emotional. In a way, he behaves incredibly repulsive torwards any of the affection you offer, often flinching at the slightest hint of a touch and usually even just avoiding it at a regular basis. But right at the same time, he clearly craves it; unintentionally leaving out small hints here and there when he longs for the simplest act such as holding your hand. Making it more than obvious that despite wanting to deny it on severe levels, he is just vulnerable as his younger self would be.

Something on a sweeter note, however, he’d certainly compare you to the little bird he nursed back to health when he was younger. He’s never had many creatures whom he could share his love with ... Aside from his pet bird, practically none, even. And because of this, he feels incredibly understood and puts a lot of trust in you for even allowing him to adore you like this, especially when considering your position. He hasn’t experienced a lot of joy in his life, but you? You make him happy. He understands your feelings may not be mutual to his own, but to him; you truly are his forever. The longer you’re with him, the closer he becomes to reaching the point of believing you to be the only dream and motive left for Mobius entirely. And though feeling a bit guilty for not showing it as much as he should have, he had always already found you to be the one hope left in this pitiful universe. You’re one of a kind to him, and he had finally gotten his hands onto a true motive to keep himself going; making you shine at your best.

Even if it requires his own demise in order to get you to that point.

Bonus section #1 : Similarities

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An early yet important part to take note of is that both would absolutely not hesitate to get violent when it comes to their darling. Both live in fairly dangerous environments and given the circumstances with their behaviour, they’re definitely going to be ferociously overprotective when it comes to you. When looking at both foxes, I do however see Miles as a much bigger threat when it comes to the safety of any other living being out there. Instead of attacking them out of pure instinct and an obvious outburst of rage like Nine would, Miles is eerily calm about the entire situation, instead making a mental note of the said mobian and making very well sure to make their life a living hell before coldly finishing them off in a brutal manner. And tho they’d both usually be the type preferring to avoid conflict, neither would be uncertain to shed blood or better said, even take lives for your sake.

However, there would definitely be a major weak point that could be used against the both of them with ease; affection. They both have no clue on how to indicate it and how to react to it. Being as lonely as the two have always been in their lives, it’s no surprise to say that such acts leave them completely bewildered and perhaps even somewhat flustered with zero doubt. It may often even be considered awkward in a way, but they seem to crave it to severe extends right at the same time. Unquestionably, they could be seen as touch starved, acting reserved and perhaps even defensive about the entire thing, but melting in your hands when you do the simplest thing such as giving a scratch behind their ears. Over time they’d have a higher chance of getting dependent on your physical love, it literally becoming closer to a need to get through the day. And having no real reasons to hold them back and restrict their limits this time, both foxes might even become somewhat overbearing torwards their darling in response to it.

Another thing is how they’d both seem like the type to get attached rather quickly torwards those who are decent enough to treat them properly. They’ve honestly lacked any kind of politeness for so long that they’d immediately get completely faithful torwards those who show them kindness. The only thing truly holding them back being the question lingering in the back of their heads how long they’ll be able to put up with them before they start treating them like everyone else had done. But like most variants of Tails do, they are honestly in such a high class of emotional devotion to a point where they cannot get themselves to care for it for long.

At last I’d like to mention is how they both wished for the better in the world at atleast some point in their lives. They want to live in a place where all is well and good, wanting to get back the childhood that they’ve been robbed of. Wanting to create a future with you next to them. And though Miles never got the chance to recreate a world to his own favour, he wants to improve the world for your sake. He knows the amount of power he holds over their entire societies, and he will make damned sure to make good use of it, not seeming to care much about the clear misuse of power. Every act shall be done to fit your benefits and they shall not stop until it’s completely adjusted to your preferences. Hypocritically believing it would validate each and every single death and perhaps even the fall of Mobius itself during the process. It would really just become your own world, and they, including Miles are only just living in it.

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[myth-blossom]

It's The Little Things

I wrote a lil something in honor of @grumpynora's birthday! You can read about young 6 and 47 breaking into a diner below.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NORA! 🥳🥳🥳 I'm sending you lots of love and I hope you have an amazing day like you deserve! 💗

The lock gave way easily as they broke into the diner, its only security a loose doorknob that couldn’t keep out determined wildlife, let alone two young assassins. The business was closed and the staff long since gone, providing them a quiet place to relax as they formulated a new plan to eliminate the target. 

Of all the places they normally visited, a diner was the most unusual. 6 and 47 lived a strict lifestyle that allowed them little freedom of choice, hindering their experience of locales that weren’t useful to their work. Father mostly dictated their daily routines, often sending them around the world to complete contracts for Providence before returning home and starting the murderous cycle anew. Though the Institute guards chauffeured them to and from the airport, they were allowed to work fairly unsupervised, though they were only given a limited amount of time to complete the job before returning to Romania. Father didn’t want his subjects to deviate from his grand plan, nor for them to get any troublesome ideas about rebelling.

Still, they had to improvise when the target’s plans changed, causing them to move from the office building to a neutral location where they could reevaluate their tactics. 47 stationed himself at the diner’s counter while his brother took interest in the kitchen. He used the small ray of kitchen light shining through the serving window to study their map of the city, doing his best to ignore the noise of 6 opening drawers and running water from the other side. He had just concocted a new plan when he heard the flat top grill switch on. Curious, 47 left to investigate. 

6 slapped many strips of bacon onto the grill’s hot surface, smirking proudly to himself at the resulting symphony of sizzle. He ignored his brother’s stare from the corner of his eye as he reached for a bowl of egg yolks. 

“What are you doing?” 47 asked, his tone neutral. 

“It’s a surprise.” 

47 raised his brow, but said nothing. 

“Go sit down,” 6 grinned. “Trust me.”

47 sighed lightly, but did as he was told. He returned to the old yellow spinning stool at the diner’s counter and listened to his brother work. After many interesting sounds, wonderful smells, and a few muttered expletives for entertainment, 6 was finally finished. He walked backwards through the swinging doors while carrying two large ceramic plates filled with breakfast food. 

47’s eyes widened at the chef’s offerings: five strips of bacon of varying doneness, a large mass of scrambled eggs, and two & a half pancakes (the half being the third pancake that folded in on itself while flipping). 6 waited expectantly for 47, refusing to eat his own breakfast until he saw his brother’s reaction to his food.

“Why?” was all 47 could muster. 

"Seriously, brother?” 6 sighed. 

“Yes. Father wouldn’t approve of us wasting time.” 

“47, enjoying life isn’t a waste,” he frowned. “Just try the food, I promise you’ll like it.” 

“Very well.” 

6 watched as he quietly ate from each corner of his plate, sampling a strip of bacon before eating half of the eggs and then one of the pancakes. 

“And?” 6 prompted. “What do you think?”

47 considered the plate. The bacon was chewy, the eggs a bit overcooked, and the pancake overly sweet with a hint of raw batter still in the middle. 

It was the best meal he ever had. 

They very rarely ate anything other than the protein-and-vitamin-rich meals served at the Institute. The meals served their nutritional purpose, but they were often shaped as grayish mush or patties and were very much lacking in flavor. What his brother had just served him was rather perfect, a revelation for his palate, and he was suddenly very glad that they took up a brief residence in the diner. It became another one of 6’s rebellions against their Father’s restrictions, one that 47 was very grateful to have experienced. 

“It’s…good.” 

6 grinned proudly. “I told you you’d like it.” 

They slowly ate their delicious meal as they attempted to savor each bite. They would eventually have to return to their assignment and clean the diner of any evidence of their presence. But for now they would sit together and eat, and enjoy the liberating taste of something new.

[klayleyism]

The problem with Haylijah

I have many reasons for hating haylijah but what's probably the main one is the fact they're somehow supposed to be the MAIN love story but the fact they even got together/stayed together depended on the fact the other two men Hayley CANONICALLY loved /cared about more were either unavailable (Klaus) or dead(Jackson)

She choses to marry Jackson ditching Elijah in the process practically out of the blue because she wants to, something she admits herself, she literally says she would chose Jackson over Elijah anytime of the day and says she loved them both equally or whatever but she eventually moves on from Elijah a little too quick and is more than ready to leave him to have a lifelong commitment with this other guy and they're supposed to be the show's "great love story"💀??.

I get that klayley is incredibly toxic to be fair but let's be very objective here, that man almost got her and her unborn child whom she loved killed out of unjustified anger and then jealousy TWICE, he was a piece of shit to her a lot to the point even Klaus admitted he is stunned she still cared for him, and this is Hayley who's supposed to not take anyone's shit/ easily left Elijah because it was convenient since she never actually loved him he was literally only a safe choice much like Jackson

So the very fact after those two attempted murders my girl smiles at him for offering to fix the air conditioning/proceeds to tell him how she wants to believe in him and risk her life for him at any chance as if she doesn't have a daughter/ literally ignores the fact hope could've died twice in one day and stays for Klaus who's literally the only reason she even stayed with the Mikaelsons/Elijah since she intended to ditch them permanently after Klaus took the heat for killing Aiden thus fucking up their relationship but she ignored Elijah the supposed love of her life as the fandom swears begging her to stay, breaking up with him because he's not Mr perfect gentleman who does no wrong but excusing Klaus commiting mass murder makes it absolutely hilarious how the writers wether intentionally or not kept dragging haylijah through the mud since season 2 showing you that not only did he love her solely out of idolizing her for redeeming his brother and was also willing to walk away from her if Klaus made his feelings for her clear(something he admits) but the fact she too cared way more for Klaus and even Jackson who's supposed to be a more "secondary" love story to haylijah is so fucking embarrassing for them

Elijah failing for months to get Hayley to even talk to him without screaming at him but Klaus who ignored her existence for those same months is the one to get Hayley out of her depression in a DAY??

The set up was crazy, like you best believe if Klaus stopped being a dumbass and actually pursued Hayley that woman would have folded in a second because she was already down horrendous for him for doing the bare minimum

And funny enough I can still go on like this is basically the tip of the iceberg

[attheexactlyrighttimeandplace]

Some thoughts about the writing and teasing of the romantic tropes on the show, specifically focused on Galadriel, Sauron/Halbrand, with some maybe unpopular opinions in the mix (mostly some scepticism about how it will turn out for the show and the fandom).

I was writing an analysis that is a half speculation half review of episode 8 in which i explain why i think some characters arcs have been rewritten this season and why it doesn't work for me, when i realized that what emerged of these messy choices is mostly the transformation of the relationship of Halbrand/Sauron and Galadriel in the season finale, in something way bigger than what it was supposed to be initially (it's my theory).

I mean they only shared 2/3 scenes together in episode 8, but the execution of these scenes was done in a way that seems to make their relationship at the centre of the story and to promote the actors concerned, as if they had become the two young hot stars of the series.

Morfydd Clark has always been the leading lady but i never had the impression until now that her Galadriel overshadowed the rest of the cast. Halbrand was certainly given a lot of attention for a minor character, but mostly because he shared almost all his scenes with Galadriel.

Retrospectively, it seems like the writers used this storyline of letting Sauron (and not halbrand) tag along with Galadriel mostly to put the actor in the spotlight. I mean their relationship could have been played exactly the same even if he had stayed Halbrand the southlander, descendent of the men who took a blood oath with Morgoth, the man who sided with Adar during the mass murdering of entire villages. Reduced in the last episodes to what he really was: a fraud with the revelation that he was never the king of the Southlands and his crimes were too horrendous to be forgiven, and that Galadriel by bringing him back to this land had only revealed the hold that Adar had on him and the gravity of his crimes making redemption impossible for him.

Sauron didn't need at all to be bind to her to be established. There was at least one subplot inside season 1, that could have been perfect for Sauron and that didn't require to involve Galadriel with him. This other actor would have been the best choice for the Dark Lord, would have been everything that Charlie Vickers completely failed to be in the few scenes where Sauron revealed his identity: badass, threatening and looking like an ancient being with a very old soul.

I have one or two theories about the reasons the two showrunners (and only them, not the rest of the writing team who are veteran and whom i hope are wise enough to not try to make Tolkien's work something it isn't), took this direction but i'm more interested in the consequences of it.

I'm surprised that anyone can still believe after watching this season that the showrunners didn't intend from their meeting to give a romantic turn to their scenes. I know what Charlie Vickers said in his post final interviews: that he and his co-star Morfydd Clark played their bond as purely platonic (which is a really sensible and valid take), but he seems to forget that this interpretation doesn't match the context of their scenes.

No matter how hard they tried to limit their chemistry, all those scenes spent on a raft alone, wet and thus barely covered by their clothes, all those close ups on their faces while they are shouting at each other and getting more and more physically close to the point they lost all sense of personal space, all these camera shots focused on their arms/hands touching, the intimacy created by the way they stared at each other in episode 5: the entire sequence of their verbal sparring during their meeting at the royal court, that was filled with so much emotional strain when their opposition devolved into conflict, that it lead them to their haunting confession scene in the forge, in which they have watched in each other's souls according to the director of the episode (which was true at least for Sauron who saw the truth she was hiding until then), to their final mutual acceptation of their pull to each other and the desire to keep it and deepen it, and of course the proposal made during the mind control scene in which he offered to her a vision of the future where she would be his queen, it was all romantic tropes or filming techniques used to create the impression of romantic attraction.

I know the counter argument: "but Sauron can't love". I don't believe either he can love, but he can show for sure obsession of control, possessiveness, lust, jealousy and agressivity which are all the ingredients of toxic relationships.

All those examples proved in my view that the showrunners want to stage on this series their own dark "romance". I don't know why they think it's a good idea or why they think it's something that the viewers want to see (i don't want it and i'm not alone), but i believe they think it's not a violation of the canon if it's done in the same way it was done by Tolkien in one of the non published versions of Luthien and Morgoth's meeting (Charlie Vickers mentioned this last story too as an important part of his interpretation of the journey of Sauron before he become fully incorporeal, so i assume the writers wants to integrate it in Sauron's arc at one point, with Sauron and Galadriel reenacting the part where Lùthien played Morgoth).

Like many fans have already guessed, it won't be of course as fully developed as a real relationship would be, not now that Galadriel has clearly rejected any kind of interest in being his ally or his queen and will try to cut as much as possible any form of contact with him, after he forced himself on her mind. But one of the rings created in episode 8 is for her, and since Sauron helped to shape them, their power will allow him to read her thoughts and dreams if the series follows the book canon.

That's why, i expect more harassment and violence in season 2 under the form of CGI sequences like the mind control scenes in episode 8. More harassment as he's not taking no for an answer, and he turned possessive: since the scene in which he grabbed roughly her arm on the ship in episode 5 while she was offering only a handshake, to the way he emphasized the pronoun my in his line "my ally" in episode 8. And more violence too with Celeborn's probable arrival during this season, that will crush definitely any hope of submitting her and appropriating her mind, her thoughts, her desires and replace them by his, or get back her magical ring that he considers to be his property because he helped to make it.

To be honest, at this point i'm less worried about the risk that all those seeds, planted to attract a larger audience, potentially result in an unnecessary toxic one sided romance that would take too much attention and place, the damage has been already done on this front; and more concerned by how it can worsen the bad image, negative criticism of the show. The writers will still want the fans to root for the good guy, for Celeborn but after spending an entire season building this kind of chemistry between Sauron and Galadriel while they have barely mentioned Celeborn, it will be like emptying the ocean for a big minority of the fandom.

So this character that was completely absent from season 1, that was remembered only once by his own wife, that has a bad reputation in term of charisma, dynamism and popularity based on the fans reactions to the books and the films, is going to show up just like that, and claim back his status of husband of the heroine, and the showrunners think that no part of the fandom will turn against them and the rest of the writers?

My experience of fandoms tell me otherwise: it's not going to work, unless they have as much luck with the casting as they had with Lloyd Owen (whom could have easily endure to be in competition with Charlie Vickers, because of how popular he is in every way: for his acting, for playing a hero like Elendil admired and/or loved by all the others characters, for his looks and because the chemistry between Elendil and Galadriel has been clearly established), and it might even backfire and hurt the show's popularity and its reputation.

We're talking about a prestigious adaptation of Tolkien's work destined to become a classic, not the low quality franchise that is the Game of Thrones, thus the last thing the series needs is to be associated with ship wars on top of all the slamming it's already taking, especially when there was such a large margin to avoid them...

It's a recipe for a potential disaster, though i still believe strongly that season 2 will be better than season 1 if only because it will truly be an adaptation of the Appendices of LOTR, now that we reach the point where the war to control the rings can fully start.

My hope is the bad romance will be outshined by the epicness of the conflict for power and the new alliances that will be formed due to Sauron's attacks against the Elves, that it will be reduced to a footnote, something done only to "spice" the tale, and add some layers to Galadriel's arc. Something quickly forgotten when Sauron's physical body will be destroyed in Nùmenor.

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

5th June >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Saint Boniface, Bishop, Martyr 

on

Monday, Ninth Week in Ordinary Time.

Monday, Ninth Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Red: A(1))

(Readings for the feria (Monday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Tobit 1:3,2:1-8 Tobit defies the law by burying the dead.

I, Tobit, have walked in paths of truth and in good works all the days of my life. I have given much in alms to my brothers and fellow countrymen, exiled like me to Nineveh in the country of Assyria. In the reign of Esarhaddon I returned home, and my wife Anna was restored to me with my son Tobias. At our feast of Pentecost (the feast of Weeks) there was a good dinner. I took my place for the meal; the table was brought to me and various dishes were brought. Then I said to my son Tobias, ‘Go, my child, and seek out some poor, loyal-hearted man among our brothers exiled in Nineveh, and bring him to share my meal. I will wait until you come back, my child.’ So Tobias went out to look for some poor man among our brothers, but he came back again and said, ‘Father!’ I answered, ‘What is it, my child?’ He went on, ‘Father, one of our nation has just been murdered; he has been strangled and then thrown down in the market place; he is there still.’ I sprang up at once, left my meal untouched, took the man from the market place and laid him in one of my rooms, waiting until sunset to bury him. I came in again and washed myself and ate my bread in sorrow, remembering the words of the prophet Amos concerning Bethel:

Your feasts will be turned to mourning, and all your songs to lamentation.

And I wept. When the sun was down, I went and dug a grave and buried him. My neighbours laughed and said, ‘See! He is not afraid any more.’ (You must remember that a price had been set on my head earlier for this very thing.) ‘The time before this he had to flee, yet here he is, beginning to bury the dead again.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 111(112):1-2,3b-6

R/ Happy the man who fears the Lord. or R/ Alleluia!

Happy the man who fears the Lord, who takes delight in all his commands. His sons will be powerful on earth; the children of the upright are blessed.

R/ Happy the man who fears the Lord. or R/ Alleluia!

Riches and wealth are in his house; his justice stands firm for ever. He is a light in the darkness for the upright: he is generous, merciful and just.

R/ Happy the man who fears the Lord. or R/ Alleluia!

The good man takes pity and lends, he conducts his affairs with honour. The just man will never waver: he will be remembered for ever.

R/ Happy the man who fears the Lord. or R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation cf. Colossians 3:16a,17

Alleluia, alleluia! Let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home with you; through him give thanks to God the Father. Alleluia!

Or: cf. Revelation 1:5

Alleluia, alleluia! You, O Christ, are the faithful witness, the First-born from the dead; you have loved us and have washed away our sins with your blood. Alleluia!

Gospel Mark 12:1-12 They seized the beloved son, killed him and threw him out of the vineyard.

Jesus began to speak to the chief priests, the scribes and the elders in parables: ‘A man planted a vineyard; he fenced it round, dug out a trough for the winepress and built a tower; then he leased it to tenants and went abroad. When the time came, he sent a servant to the tenants to collect from them his share of the produce from the vineyard. But they seized the man, thrashed him and sent him away empty-handed. Next he sent another servant to them; him they beat about the head and treated shamefully. And he sent another and him they killed; then a number of others, and they thrashed some and killed the rest. He had still someone left: his beloved son. He sent him to them last of all. “They will respect my son” he said. But those tenants said to each other, “This is the heir. Come on, let us kill him, and the inheritance will be ours.” So they seized him and killed him and threw him out of the vineyard. Now what will the owner of the vineyard do? He will come and make an end of the tenants and give the vineyard to others. Have you not read this text of scripture:

It was the stone rejected by the builders that became the keystone. This was the Lord’s doing and it is wonderful to see?

And they would have liked to arrest him, because they realised that the parable was aimed at them, but they were afraid of the crowds. So they left him alone and went away.

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

--------------------------------

Saint Boniface, Bishop, Martyr 

(Liturgical Colour: Red: A(1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Monday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading Acts of the Apostles 26:19-23 I have stood firm to this day, testifying to great and small alike.

Paul said: ‘King Agrippa, I could not disobey the heavenly vision. On the contrary I started preaching, first to the people of Damascus, then to those of Jerusalem and all the countryside of Judaea, and also to the pagans, urging them to repent and turn to God, proving their change of heart by their deeds. This was why the Jews laid hands on me in the Temple and tried to do away with me. But I was blessed with God’s help, and so I have stood firm to this day, testifying to great and small alike, saying nothing more than what the prophets and Moses himself said would happen: that the Christ was to suffer and that, as the first to rise from the dead, he was to proclaim that light now shone for our people and for the pagans too.’

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 116(117):1-2

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!

O praise the Lord, all you nations, acclaim him all you peoples!

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!

Strong is his love for us; he is faithful for ever.

R/ Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News. or R/ Alleluia!

Gospel Acclamation John 10:14

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the good shepherd, says the Lord, I know my own sheep and my own know me. Alleluia!

Gospel John 10:11-16 The good shepherd is one who lays down his life for his sheep.

Jesus said:

‘I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd is one who lays down his life for his sheep. The hired man, since he is not the shepherd and the sheep do not belong to him, abandons the sheep and runs away as soon as he sees a wolf coming, and then the wolf attacks and scatters the sheep; this is because he is only a hired man and has no concern for the sheep.

‘I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep. And there are other sheep I have that are not of this fold, and these I have to lead as well. They too will listen to my voice, and there will be only one flock, and one shepherd.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[cleflink]

Kaishin undercover Kaito ficlet

Hello! I’ve had some new follows recently AND I wanted to write something silly and quick after the chaos marathon of ksbb fic writing, so have an incredibly self-indulgent snippet of Kaito being hot and Shinichi being very put out about it. Post-canon pre-slash

---

In Shinichi's defense, he hadn't been thinking about the personal consequences when he'd made the suggestion. He'd been thinking about catching a murderer. 

Story of his life, really. 

"I need your help with a case," he'd told Kaito.

Because who else would he ask when he needed someone young, male and decently attractive to go undercover in a night club as bait for a sting operation? Kaito was a master of disguise, an adrenaline junkie of the highest order and a man completely capable of defending himself if anything went wrong. He was the most logical choice, and he owed Shinichi a favour, besides.

The worst part was how long it took Shinichi to realize what he'd done to himself.  

---

Kaito arrived exactly on time, letting himself into the house without bothering with normal human things like knocking. Or a door key. "Shinichi?" 

"In the kitchen!" Shinichi called back, not looking up from the text he was writing to Takagi. "Division 1's ready to move out on my signal." 

"You know," Kaito's voice preceded him down the hall. "Playing bait for a fetish murderer isn't my usual definition of a fun Friday night." 

"No," Shinichi agreed dryly. "You'd rather antagonize the police force instead."

Kaito laughed as he stepped into the kitchen. "Okay, fair. And at least I'm going to look good while doing it." 

Shinichi snorted, glancing up with a mocking smirk. "You think style is a white top hat and a mono...cle."  

His words clattered off into awkward silence, as Shinichi realized that he had made a grave error. 

Because interacting with the Kaitou KID in a hundred different disguises over the years was in no way sufficient preparation for the reality of seeing Kaito - his Kaito - wearing trendy, far too-well-fitted club clothes with his fetchingly dishevelled hair perfectly framing a face rendered utterly devastating by makeup that enhanced rather than hid those familiar features. 

Shinichi stared, unable to help himself. 

Kaito caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "What? Too much? Not enough?" To Shinichi's slow-dawning horror, he put one hand on his hip, the graceful weight shift making Shinichi uncomfortably aware of just how lithe and smoothly muscled Kaito's long, long legs were. Those jeans were far too tight. "I can put on something else if you don't think this will do it, but I draw the line at hotpants. The quest for justice can only demand so much." 

Shinichi was still staring. He wrenched his eyes away with an effort, fighting to get his mind back on task. "It's fine. Are you ready to go?" 

Kaito rolled his eyes. "Yes, because that's what your reaction signified." 

"I was distracted by the fact that your hair looks even messier than usual," Shinichi said, in a passable imitation of his usual deadpan. "I didn't even know that was possible." 

Predictably, Kaito squawked and lifted his hands protectively towards his hair. The motion made the tiniest tantalizing sliver of his toned stomach appear beneath the lifted hem of his unfairly snug shirt. "Excuse you? You and your cowlicks do not get to judge. I am artfully tousled, thank you very much!"

"Keep telling yourself that. Let's get moving," Shinichi added, standing and striding for the door before Kaito could tell him - loudly and at length - why he was wrong. "It's getting late." 

"My hair looks great," Kaito grumbled as he swept past. There was glitter on his cheekbones. Shinichi hated everything. "Heathen." 

Shinichi followed silently. The only other option was to admit that Kaito was, for once, 100% correct, which wouldn't do at all.   At least focusing on the soft, tousled mass of Kaito's hair and how much he wanted to sink his hands into it was better than getting distracted by the sight of Kaito's ass in those jeans.

Shinichi was in so much trouble.

[eldritch-spouse]

I'm curious. What happens to breeders in the facility and in which way are they "profitable"? Also, since Breg was an top tier male breeder, does he have many bastard children?

[Hhhhhh I'm sorry for the wait, I'm kind of all over the place.]

TW: Mentions of murder and various types of abuse.

So, a long long while ago, I honestly don't even know if I can fetch that post anymore, I said that breeders are called that (among other terms, like "spreaders") because they have a surprising ability to procreate with most other species of monsters.

This is because breeders function as the "blank canvases" of monster kind, males can inseminate most monster women without passing down their genes (or at the very least supplying very recessive genetic material), and females can conceive and gestate most monster men's progeny, also not supplying much if any of their own genetic material. This ability is something that comes from their Siadar ancestors and has remained with them for generations, undiluted (hence some of Krulu's interest in breeders).

Along history, what happened is that breeders in the wild would establish deals with monsters having fertility issues. Their natural hyper-fertility and high compatibility made them prime candidates for fixing the problems of those who needed offspring and could not achieve such. In fact, this ability of theirs made certain ancient societies place spreaders in pedestals, honoring them and their services towards those in need.

At some point, breeders stop being respected.

They start being captured. Forced into impregnation practices, no longer rewarded or given a choice. This cruelty becomes normalized and eventually gives way to today's undercover rings of breeder trafficking, and what I've described as the "breeder facilities", where they are essentially mass-produced.

They're profitable because their seed can impregnate any monster who is deemed biologically infertile. It heals their reproductive system and allows them to bear children. The females can also get impregnated by seminal fluid that is, to the medical world, factually nonviable. There is a massive market for this, and nowadays, breeders have acquired a brand new level of demand as pets too, due to their induced hyper-sexuality- Making them desirable to plenty of sick fucks that think they can handle these monsters.

Although humans don't need these services, since breeders cannot impregnate or be impregnated by them, there's still a lot of monetary benefit to be gained from working in these facilities or somehow being connected to them in other ways.

Being the literal golden goose of the facility, Breg has been massacred day after day ever since handlers took note of his superior build and seed production rates. He likes has more than hundreds of kids out there, but will never be able to identify them because none share his traits. It's also possible that he has some breeder children, though not through direct copulation with females, since every time a breeding session was arranged, Breg was extremely aggressive and would sooner get in a fight than copulate with his supposed partner. He once killed a female this way, that paired with his other fatalities related to fights between males got him quickly dubbed a "problem breeder" and held in isolated cells. The only reason he wasn't put down was because he continued to be of massive financial benefit, which allowed him to get away with mauling staff repeatedly.

Put simply, Breg had reached a point where he would kill everything in sight until he found something that could finally, finally put him down and let him rest.

To this very day, Breg refuses to ponder on the possibility of having several children out there who he will never know. It breaks him a little. His past violent acts are also the biggest reason as to why he's so careful with his human obsession, often suffering from nightmares wherein he unintentionally kills them during sexual encounters just like he entered a fit and gutted an innocent breeder female in his time inside captivity.

There's a whole lot of turmoil he hasn't processed or unpacked yet.

[yatsugareboyf]

0X1=LOVESONG (I know I love you) feat. Seori [AKUTAGAWA RYUUNOSUKE]

akutagawa x gn reader. part of my TCC: FIGHT OR ESCAPE 500 EVENT.

hurt/comfort requested by @os8mu. warning: mentions of death, nightmares, dazai's abusive past.

the back of the book: akutagawa thinks he's a loser after almost losing the love of his life.

note: this took me a while but I got it! i used grammarly this time, so pls tell me if there's any difference. there's a lot of references of the song in the fic which i enjoyed writing hehe. this was actually one of the first fics i started writing aft i got mai's request <3 enjoy!

playlist here. (to be uploaded soon)

"Yokohama didn't do anything good for me, anyway," he bargains to no one in particular.

Would Yokohama even be worth living in if it cost your life? Would Yokohama feel complete for him without you? Would Yokohama even be thankful for the sacrifice that cost him his drug? The answer is no, of course, he concludes. Because why would Yokohama, the city he vowed to protect despite his terrible upbringing and trauma, be grateful for a sacrifice from someone like him? After all, he is a mass murderer with whom no one wants to be associated. It was okay for him to die, rot in secret and not have anyone mourn him. He said it himself; there won't be much time until he passes away.

And even if all the odds were against him, he was the one who was fated to live in this world that lacks the only thing he deems necessary to live: you.

But why you?

You, who did nothing but great things to make Yokohama a warmer place even for people like him. You, who never put Yokohama in harm even if it harms yourself. You, who didn't need to vow to become someone who would protect Yokohama even in its darkest days. Why did you have to be sent to die? Did the people ask too much of you?

He never understood, and he never will dare to understand.

Indeed, he was a loser. He had lost his childhood to pursue a life of crime and danger without a choice. He had lost his long-time mentor, an abuser, to someone who he thought didn't even match his own capability, and now he's about to lose you.

The one who one day appeared to him like an angel, sweeping him off his feet and showing him a new hometown he can truly be free and happy. The one who accepted him even if heaven itself wouldn't let him in, the one who could mend the wound in his soul and thaw his stone-cold heart, his one and only.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke is a loser, and he despises the fact that he's about to live up to it again. He won't allow it.

Come what may to Yokohama and anyone who seeks refuge in it, he doesn't care. They will pay the price of endangering the one warm thing this cold, ruthless world could ever give; they will see the consequences of their actions that resulted in the harm of his beloved. The only thing that mattered to him was to make sure that you were safe, and Yokohama would suffer the result if that were to be bent.

And yet somehow, Yokohama never did. They never saw the wrath of a monster who lost the one thing they could have. He would've destroyed Yokohama, hell, even the whole world, only to have you by his side, smiling without a care, but you didn't let him. Yokohama didn't deserve someone like you, nor did Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

Fallen to his knees, he cries for you. He sobs for the life that was once yours, the life that you were to have, and the life that you were to have with him. He mourns the sunny days where you make it impossibly brighter, wishing that when the sun comes up again, you’re there to melt him out of his cold nightmare. He longs for the moment that you’ll return with the sweetest grin with your hand out to him, once again rescuing him from his chains. With bloody hands and a sore throat, he screams.

Once again, he wakes up into a nightmare, the hellish world where you no longer exist. Except you do still very much exist, and he just doesn't realize it yet.

"Ryuu? Hey, I'm here. Look around. You're not there anymore. You're here with me, alright?"

There it was, the soft illumination of your gentle voice and the warmth that it brings.

He felt you scrambling around him, kind of unsure in your movements, until he heard your footsteps walk away from him, but not that far. He opens his eyes to a blurry vision, looking up into the dark ceiling. Tilting his head in your direction, he sees you filling up a tall glass with the pitcher of water on your dresser. You always left some water in your room if Akutagawa needed them (or when you think he needs them, he never asks for it himself).

How thoughtful, one of the more reasons to love you. You know what Akutagawa needs, even when he doesn’t tell you. You know him like the back of your hand, offering things that he never knew he needed, providing something that he never thought he was worthy of receiving and giving things that he never gave himself.

He saw you walk over to his side of the futon, cooing at him to sit up properly so he could drink from the glass you just filled. You help him hold the cup when you notice his hands still shaking, you slowly rub his back when he starts to cough, and you move the stray hairs from sticking on his sweaty face.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you a towel-”

He reaches out to grab your wrist, almost desperately, as he sees you start to step away. He loosens his grip after a while but still keeps his hand around your wrist. Tugging on it, he struggles to say, “Stay with me, please.” swallowing the lump forming in his throat. Somehow, you understand, taking his hand in yours, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Okay. I’ll stay here.”

You spend a few moments holding his hand gently, staring at them. Akutagawa is scared to close his eyes again, so he focuses on your face. It brings him comfort, although it is not enough to describe whatever feeling comes from his gut. It’s… reassuring. Being able to lay your entire self out without having anyone step on it, being able to lower your guard without a stealthy jab from behind. It gives him fortitude in the times when he can’t seem to stand on his own.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything? Do.. do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head, and you’re not sure if he’s referring to the former or the latter part of your sentence, but you don’t pry more. Akutagawa moves his hand up and pats your side of the futon where you previously laid on, looking up at you with his red-rimmed eyes. Following his gesture, you move to sit beside him, tucking your legs under the covers beside him. He grabs your hand after you have to let go momentarily, quietly moving his head to rest on your shoulder.

It’s not always that Akutagawa would initiate acts of affection. He’s still wary of physical touch after all this time, but whenever he would, you never say anything. He didn’t explicitly say to not make a big deal about it, but he really appreciates it. You just let him be, nuzzling his head against your neck while he plays with your fingers. You make a move to rub his scalp but freeze halfway, hesitating to touch him. Still, ever the professional mafia man, he already knows your hand is hanging a few inches from his head.

“What are you doing?”

“I just..” you continue your movement, placing your hand on top of his head, rubbing it softly to not startle him. You feel him stiffen but not flinch, staying in his position, “Is this okay?”

He doesn’t respond, but you continue rubbing your fingers lightly against his scalp. After a while, you stop, checking if he’s uncomfortable, but before you can ask, he grunts quietly and tugs on the hand he’s holding. You hold back a fond giggle, moving back to begin scratching his scalp again.

It's small moments like this where Akutagawa feels like you're the only one who understands him. With only a simple nod or with a wave of a hand, you seem to know better than others who've known him his whole life. It's you who he feels like himself with. Not the rabid dog that the mafia knows him to be or the menace that the agency perceives him to be. He's simply and utterly yours, nothing more and nothing less.

Later on, you would whisper to him, laying him back down on the futon and covering his shoulders with the covers. You would kiss his forehead and hold his hand close to your chest, a reminder that you're beside him. You would smile at his warm face, lightly poking the beauty mark under his eye before laughing at his scrunched-up face. You would whisper a soft "Goodnight, Ryuu. I'll be here to protect you.", despite your droopy eyes and continue to run your thumb over his knuckles.

Akutagawa is scared to close his eyes, worried that he'll wake up into his world of nightmares again, but he feels safe under your soft gaze. He can't help but quietly stare into your eyes, eyelids slowly drooping, settling into a half-closed look. You know that he's close to drifting off (sometimes with his eyes open), so you start to hum a quiet tune. It fills his ears and reaches the realm of his dreams, lulling him into a peaceful, dreamless slumber.

[hooterhorror]

could you do michael myers and thomas hewitt with an s/o who's big family is a little overprotective? and by big family i mean a lot of siblings while the s/o is a middle child

AS SOMEONE WHO HAS A HUGE ITALIAN FAMILY THIS SCRATCHES A CERTAIN ITCH IN MY BRAIN

I hope this is good!!

Michael Myers and Thomas Hewitt with an s/o that has a big protective family

format: headcanons

warnings: probable cursing, not proofread.

Thomas Hewitt.

he has a larger sized family too, maybe not Greek standards of big but it could easily shock someone who's only known their parents and paternal grandparents.

he's grown up with more than enough brothers who all saw him as the baby at first, before he took on a more elder sibling role as they all grew older. to choptop though: "Tommy will always be my baby brother"

it's more likely for him to meet your family or at least some of them than it is for Michael tbh- Thomas is just a little worried what they'd think of him

and of course he worries about them finding out what his family and him are and do-

and the fact that they're all protective of you only makes him worry more- oh god, would they hate him? would they take you away from him?

if your folks ever wanna meet the Sawyer/Hewitt family, Thomas is sweating bullets when the day comes around.

his hands are so clammy when you grab them and try to comfort and call him down

"they'll love you tommy!"

[distressed Thomas sounds]

He's way more tense meeting your parents than your siblings, mainly because his brothers keep them busy-

don't worry, chop top won't steal your mom's hair while Thomas is around. and nubbins won't snap anyone's pictures without asking.

Luda Mae brags proudly about her baby Thomas to your parents, and he gets so flustered oh my GOD- his face is bright pink under his mask and he shuffles out of the room when it's too much

He shakes your father's hand and gets very embarrassed when he points out his strong grip-

feel like Thomas clicks with any of your little siblings real fast- he adores them 🥺

if you've got a literal baby sibling, Thomas is staring wide eyed at the little nugget.

wonders how your parents still keep up with all your siblings and popping more out lmfao

probably locks vilmer in the shed the entire time so he can't push any conspiracies onto anyone and make the family look like a buncha idiots.

nubbins does fling some peas at your dad's face, unfortunately.

THOMAS WAS MORTIFIED

All in all, very polite to your parents and does not judge your large family for it's size but for it's dynamics.

Michael Myers.

you told your family about HIM???

yes he's your boyfriend but before that he was and still is, a wanted mass murderer. the shape, even.

and a slew of other things, probably

if you ask him to meet them, he's shaking his head so fast and gets mad when you push the idea, and leaves the room or the house for that night.

he may show interest or shock even when he sees any family photos- wait, what do you mean that's not your entire family??

"Oh no, this isn't everyone, there's Aunt Susie in Germany, great grandma Anne in new york-"

he grabs your shoulders and silently pleads for you to stop. his brain cannot handle this madness.

if they show up randomly while he's in the house, he sneaks out the back. I don't think he's worried about how theyd like him, but just about meeting them at ALL. People's perception of him never really bothered him, but if they find out you're dating a literal murderer and try to take you away from him or wedge a wall between you two, he'll have no choice but to- wait, what do you mean they support you both and he doesn't have to kill them?

on the off chance they show up and he doesn't have a chance to leave, Michael is upstairs in your bedroom pacing while you try to urge him down to meet them- almost breaks when you tell him that there's only 20 of them there-

what makes the situation worse is that both your older and younger siblings made it clear they'd kick your boyfriend's ass if they get any bad vibes. again, Micheal would be forced to kill them if they tried that.

very uncomfortable the entire ordeal, especially because he probably doesn't keep his mask off for it and is shooting you silent looks and not looking your parents in the eye.

"so, y/n had told us you've been together for four years now. when are you gonna pop the question Mikey?"

spits his drink out all over your sister and your brothers lose their crap laughing at her and him.

leaves the room and you end up asking your family to leave.

denies cuddles that night because he's on edge still, processing what your mom and father said. proposing? seriously? Michael Myers isn't a marriage kind of guy!

maybe he'd do better the next time... if there is one.

your mom phones later to say he was quiet and Michael catches you excusing it as him having anxiety. he gave you such a look for that.

probably doesn't like your sister(s) or dad. your mom is okay because she brought a pie which he absolutely demolished, btw.

[writingfics-passingtime]

Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

[midnightwinterhawk]

I put together a little collection of Sterek and Steter fics for funsies. “Just a few fics”, I thought, “nothing too crazy.” Thirty fics later I had to cut myself off and finalize the list. You can thank @the-cookie-of-doom​ for the inspiration. 

These primarily fall under the Hurt Stiles Stilinski category because I apparently like to see my comfort characters suffer. Most of these have hopeful/happy endings but mind the tags. For reals.

Placed under a cut since I have no self control and this turned into a long post.

Sterek

adore to see your eyes fly by @1001cranes

(11,309 l E)

stiles is a pyromaniac, derek is a sociopath. a match made in some kind of heaven. teen wolf kink meme fill.

take my heart from me by @areiton

(23,188 l NR)

He didn't really mean to adopt Derek's pack of puppies. He didn't mean to make himself important to them.

To Derek.

He just wanted to keep them all safe.

That's all Stiles ever wanted.

"Why Can't You?" by @asterekmess

(3,602 l T)

Now. This was happening now, and he couldn’t be less prepared.

-

After a long night, things between Stiles and his father come to a head.

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

(30,314 l E)

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

A Victory March by @churkey

(2,688 l T)

When Stiles is eight he learns that nothing will be the same. His dad comes home one day after work and sits Stiles down for a talk. He explains that werewolves and all the monsters are real.

They're real and not hiding under anyone's bed.

Bury the Moon by darthjamtart

(16,592 l M)

First things get bad. Then they get worse. Stiles doesn’t know what he’s sacrificed until it’s too late.

Dying is the easy part.

Love's Violent Delights by @dexterous-sinistrous

(10,685 l E)

Derek caught the way the man’s eyes looked over Stiles before lingering on his ass. He waited for the clerk to place the key on the counter before he reacted.

Stiles startled at the loud noise, turning away from the pamphlets in the display box to see Derek pinning the clerk’s head against the counter. He drew in an even breath, looking between the struggling man and Derek.

Derek briefly looked at Stiles, hesitating before he saw the gleam of excitement in Stiles’ eyes and the hint of lust in his scent. “Ever look at him, or any other Omega, like that again, and I’ll slice your eyes out with my claws.” He shoved the man back, not caring of the commotion that was made as he snatched up the key from the counter.

Empty by @discontentedwinter

(48,034 l M)

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Your Vision Borrows Mine by hazyascent

(188,781 l E)

Stiles has encountered a fair share of monsters before, way out of his league - the kinds that children are afraid are hiding in their closets and under the bed.

He’d even become one himself when he was void. The nogitsune was in his house, his body, and his mind.

But the worst monster he’s ever faced took even more from him and got away with it.

It’s why Stiles has never really been as terrified of werewolves and kanimas and darachs as he should have been. They’re really not that scary, relatively speaking, and he has a whole team on his side. They always found a way to win - until they lost someone they really loved.

Stiles doesn’t know how to be normal, not after everything he’s done and everyone he’s hurt. The nogitsune is gone, but another monster is on its heels.

His uncle is back. And Stiles has never felt more alone.

It Was a Wednesday by @isthatbloodonhisshirt

(80,129 l M)

“What happened? Where are you? What’s that sound?”

Derek jumped, having momentarily forgotten Scott was on the phone with him because Stiles had started moving. He’d stalked over to the other side of the cave, still eying Derek warily and growling, then settled protectively over a mass of clothes, leaves and animal innards. It was probably where he was sleeping.

Lovely. No wonder he smelled like death.

“Stiles,” Derek said, answering Scott’s question. Or, one of them, at least.

“Stiles? What do you—Stiles is making that noise?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“How fast do you think you can make it to the south lot of the Preserve?”

Tiny Houses by @ohmyjetsabel-blog

(77,183 l E)

"So this is what Stiles does. He lies in Scott’s bed and waits for Melissa to say she’s found someone to get it out of him, to cure him of the wrongness and the bad, and he dreams.

God, he dreams.

He dreams of fire and swollen bellies and that scene in Alien, of giving birth to jackals through his urethra, the whole horrific nine yards. His head is a terrible place to be, he can’t imagine his stomach is much better, why anyone would want to put a thing inside of it."

I'm There in the Water by @spaceprincessem

(15,878 l T)

“But it’s—” Derek paused, his words unsure, “it’s not like us,” he swallows hard, chin dipping to his chest in frustration, “it’s like a…”

“An abomination,” Stiles finished, nodding his head as he finally lets his gaze really look at Derek since Scott had pulled them from the water.

He suddenly wished he hadn’t because the way Derek looks at him makes Stiles feel like he is ten years old again. Like Derek is seeing him for the first time since they accidentally fell into each other’s orbit all those years ago. Like Stiles isn’t a burden or invisible.

Like he is enough.

Or five times Stiles felt like he was drowning and the one time he finally caught his breath

Gunplay is Not Really Our Kink by theroguesgambit

(2,577 l M)

“The rules to the game are simple. One bullet, six chances. You pick it up and take turns pulling the trigger on the other man, or we gun you both down right now. You play along, only one of you has to die. Fun game, huh?”

--

Derek and Stiles are captured by a group of hunters and forced to play a twisted game that only one of them might walk away from.

The Price by theroguesgambit

(18,452 l M)

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

Nieważny by Zethsaire

(2,037 l E)

The pack is gone, everything they've ever cared for destroyed. Now Stiles and Derek hunt the hunters, taking revenge in the only way they know how; blood.

Steter

Make Me Bleed by @asarcasticwitch

(2,304 l E)

Peter’s expression contorts, impressed or surprised, Stiles can't decipher, but the grin on his face proves he’s not exactly disappointed with the unexpected turn of events.

“Which bite exactly were you hoping for, hm?” The older man curls one hand around the back of Stiles’s neck, trailing his thumb along his pale, fragile throat.

Stiles tilts his head back in unyielding submission, giving the wolf no room to debate his sincerity. “I’m sure you can figure it out, Alpha.

Two Roads Converge in a Graveyard Town by @cywscross

(15,645 l T)

The Deadpool brings one more assassin to Beacon Hills. A man's gotta eat after all.

when you're going through hell (keep going for me) by cywscross

(57,022 l T)

Peter is abandoned in the aftermath of the fire, and Eichen House takes ruthless advantage. Six years later, when he's finally able to move again, he finds himself in a cell with a boy in a straitjacket.

(Kate’s biggest mistake was letting Peter live. Eichen House’s biggest mistake was letting Peter meet Stiles.)

Don't Fail Me Now by @discontentedwinter​

(36,315 l E)

Stiles goes to Derek looking for help.

He finds Peter instead.

Peter takes what he's wanted for a very long time.

Sanctuary by DiscontentedWinter

(56,525 l M)

The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.

It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Bite Down by EclipseWing (@shadow-of-the-eclipse)

(27,586 l M)

In which Stiles is forced to survive the zombie apocalypse with a sociopathic murdering werewolf for company.

Into Eden by @graciebirdie

(12,232 l M)

Stiles deciding to bring home the stray alpha he'd hit with his jeep probably made him certifiable, if it hadn't turned out Peter was as crazy as he was.

Before you let go (and the light takes you in) by Issay

(4,032 l E)

Stiles makes one last errand - goes to leave flowers on all the other graves. Fuck, so many graves. The grief is as endless and as inescapable as the sky.

He goes home and there is a thing wearing his father's face, waiting for him in the kitchen.

Call My Name by KouriArashi ( @gingersnapwolves )

(81,370 l M)

After moving to Beacon Hills, Stiles starts having recurring dreams of a man in some kind of prison, who needs his help. Things get so bad that he ends up in Eichen House, where he finds out that the man is real.

Hide my tears in the rain. by MrsRidcully

(6,865 l M)

After  years spent successfully dodging werewolves, evil spirits and wendigos,  it was a drunk driver who stole his Dad, a drunk driver with a  suspended license and a record sheet as long as Stiles’s arm. Stiles  would have laughed at the irony if he hadn’t been so busy screaming.

In My Veins Like Disease by romanoffbarton

(1,140 l T)

He tries to leave once.

Foreshock by @twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(22,816 l E)

The day Stiles’ mom died, he almost leveled his house.

Not on purpose. Not even by mistake, really. More by instinct.

Since then he's dug his fingers into everything his has left, holding on with desperation.

Desperation never stopped an earthquake.

Your Touch is My Choice by twothumbsandnostakeincanon

(2,171 l T)

The first time John does it, Stiles is two years old and about to run into the road.

“Mieczysław!” Heart pounding, John grabbed him by the back of his neck and got a hand around his tummy, snatching him back. “No, you have to stay away from the road,” he said firmly.

Shameful Company by Whispering_Sumire (@whispering-sumire755)

(38,779 l E)

"Did I turn into a unicorn?" Peter asks dryly, and Stiles glares at him for a moment before the laughter bubbles up, unbidden, nearly unwilling, and he looks so surprised at the sound, his shock dimming it for a moment before it bursts through with even more trembling ferocity. A long, thin, willowy hand curls into a soft fist over his mouth, and he's shaking, frail, more tears falling, but the copper of his eyes are glowing, crinkling around the edges and scrunched with mirth.

"No," Stiles chokes, chuckling wetly. "No, fuck you, a unicorn? What, like, Rainbowcreep? Zombiesparkle?"

[About a year before the fated Hale fire, Peter starts having nightmares that involve a woman with red hair. The nightmares lead to a spell that brings a man back through time, and, eventually, though the time-traveler is traumatized in the most horrific ways, and Peter's never been good with or for people, in general, they develop a bond that neither of them expects.]

Would You Forgive Me If I Called You Hope, Peter Hale? (Hope, By Any Other Name) by Whispering_Sumire

(10,099 l T)

Stiles has scars. He owns that, he accepts it, he's cataloged and memorized every single one, he's hyper fucking aware of them all.

//

"What do you want, Peter?" Having the more untrustworthy of the Pack getting protective weirds him the fuck out, leaves an odd fluttering in his chest, like moths, waiting perilously and suicidally to be burned.

He doesn't like it.

"You're injured," the man says, "and whatever it is, it's put you in enough pain that I nearly fainted when I-"

"- Used your werewolf mojo on me without my permission?" Stiles smirks, and Peter gives him a black look, crossing a leg over his knee and smoothing out some invisible wrinkle on his pants.

"Tell me the truth Stiles, how bad is it?"

[Or: The one where Stiles has scars, is more than a little fucked up, and Peter notices. He helps.]

[esther-dot]

Do you think that in the hypothetical scenario that Jon does not have an intimate relationship with D her murder by him is not as gross as it was in the show or not? I don't see that affair happening in the book. I believe that Jon will kill her for political reasons (allowing her and Tyrion to live is bad news for the North) and that is imo even worse, because it requires manipulation to get there and as you said Jon is unpredictable and therefore, very dangerous. (I hope I'm clear, lol)

It’s really not something I want to read either way, anon. 😭

But, to me, it isn’t the being sexually involved with her that’s the worst part because I don’t feel bad when a victim kills their abuser. In the 90s they made several movies about women doing that and I’ve watched a few on Prime and it’s fine. The couple were once sexually involved, but their partner was abusive so I wanted them to escape by whatever means necessary. Typically, it’s women who are the victims but in GoT, Dany had the means and the willingness to kill not only individuals, but burn castles and cities, to subjugate kingdoms, so the power imbalance was huge. She threatened Jon’s family, she was a threat to his people…theirs read like an abusive relationship during s8 and I took her “let it be fear” when Jon was unresponsive to her kiss in 8x05 as an attempt to make him feel responsible for what she was about to do. When Tyrion says she’ll kill Jon in 8x06, there’s no argument. Jon thought she might. So, even though I didn’t like watching it, I totally disagreed with the Dany stans who thought Jon was wrong for killing Dany. We can’t ignore the fact that she wasn’t just Dany in the finale, she was a mass murderer who declared her intention to repeat a massacre in other cities. KL had surrendered, but the soldiers kept killing and she kept burning the city, so conquering wasn’t enough, winning wasn’t enough, at that point, she chose to kill for no reason other than to kill. And she had absolutely no remorse about it. Fans shouldn’t minimize what that said about her. By that point, killing Dany wasn’t morally ambiguous, it was emphatically right, and it felt like D&D included the J/D relationship to make Jon an avatar for Dany stans in the finale. They loved her so Jon had to grieve her (after killing her) to reconcile them with her death.

But that choice, making Jon love her and swear himself to her again as if it was sincere even though he’d just killed her was what crossed the line for me. D&D wanted to emphasize that Jon loved Dany while he killed her, and that’s gross because that is something that men who stalk/harass/assault/kill women say. It’s a totally different scenario, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that men claim to love the women they do this to, that’s what made it awful to me. I watched The Last Kingdom and found the season with the hero involved with a sorceress very blah, and when he *spoilers* killed her I wasn’t nearly as bothered because it was clear he had used her, and the show wasn’t pretending it was love. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have the same visceral reaction to her death scene. *end spoiler*

I guess I never thought of GoT or ASOIAF as wholesome, and Jon is an interesting character to me because while he is good, I think he’s capable of really dark acts, and when I watched the finale I thought, “this would make so much more sense for book Jon—if he did this of his own volition.” If he did it as her enemy, even if he had manipulated her into trusting him first, I’d view it as a dark think to do, but understandable because there is no way to openly defy her armies/dragons and survive, and his love and loyalty to his family/people would demand he protect them by any means necessary. I still wouldn’t like it, but that specific element could be avoided.

Perhaps being more alright with it in the book context is that, I’ve accepted that Martin is simply drawn to, and interested in writing things, that I’d never think of myself because they’re too dark to ever spontaneously occur to me. I’ve said before, I wouldn’t write about a 13yo being raped so often she wanted to die. I wouldn’t write about her getting pregnant and having a miscarriage. I wouldn’t have her profit off of slavery or oversee the death of children. I wouldn’t have her go on to become a villain and die. Most of the things in these books aren’t things I would write. I wouldn’t write a child killing people, multiple men molesting my sweet Sansa, Jon being coerced into a sexual relationship. I wouldn’t write about a man with dwarfism being horribly treated by society and becoming a villain.

I think these books are full of things most of us wouldn’t ever come up with, but that’s why we’re here, captivated by a mind we can’t fully grasp and a work we’re still pondering, trying to understand. That’s art, and even when it might make me uncomfortable, I can appreciate it as such. I guess I give Martin a lot of leeway because he’s trying to talk about ideas, and I appreciate some of them, even if there is a lot of stuff that’s part of his discussion that is distasteful to me. But I don’t respect what D&D ended up delivering even if I can poke at and think, “dang, there are themes if we just push this here and take that out and add in this.” So, I guess personally, I’m not as grossed out by it theoretically because I have confidence that it would be part of a larger thought, so even if I still think that moment is horrific, I’d be pushed to think of the idea that is being discussed.

I kinda like the idea of taking the heroic moment and making it something awful. I kinda like the idea of making a hero do something incredibly unheroic as his defining moment just because in fiction, we tend to like things very clean cut, when in reality, it isn’t. That’s why it’s so interesting to me to follow Dany on her trajectory to becoming a villain. Again, I don’t like all his choices along the way, but sympathizing with her and following her down a dark path, it’s very powerful. We’ve had such an influx of retellings of stories from the villains pov it might make his choice seem less groundbreaking then it once was, but the idea of making us care for characters and put them at odds is a great idea, and the endgame of that being more disturbing than normal…well, that makes sense. I can see the idea of victory only being achieved in something tragic, peace being bought through pain, as a good way to ground the ending. I mean, I do not wish this on Jon, but it’s a really interesting idea to take the moments that are supposed to be about glory, and make it feel like a personal failure. Because whether or not Jon had a sexual relationship with her, Dany is a woman and a relative. In AGOT Ned is horrified by the idea of killing Dany, and it makes sense to me that Martin ends that with her death at the hand of Jon because it puts a lot more grey into what would otherwise be a totally clear, morally right decision. Dany’s assassination then is a series long discussion for the reader which allows it to be weighty. As an author Martin likes to put the characters in difficult situations to force the audience to think about things a touch more thoughtfully than we otherwise might, making them suffer over certain things to help guide us through a certain thought path, and if he wants us to understand the horror of all this, well, he has to make the moment horrible for the character who does the killing. Considering the crap Dany will have done by that point in the story, the options as to how to do that are limited.

Anyway, I’m not sure how the J/D relationship is supposed to happen either unless it’s another noncon situation and the show did give some moments like that, so, possibly. But it seems to me that the kinslaying aspect of it is the kind of horrific that makes more sense in-world, so I don’t see the need for a sexual relationship. Fingers crossed that doesn’t happen and/or someone else takes care of Dany!

[eligaxy]

Wind

☆ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔭 : Venti x gn!Reader

☆𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 : near death experience, you’re confused asf about everything, bad writing cause i suck, spoilers for the we will be reunited quest!! And also for venti’s backstory, venti is serious for once (yes it’s a legitimate warning🤚)

☆𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 : Some angst, some fluff? Idk bye🤨

☆𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 : "It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask." (2.8k words)

♪𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰 : i’m an idiot simp, i did this in one sitting and half asleep, english isnt my first language BLA BLA IM SORRY FOR MY POOR WRITING BUT HAVE THIS

basically you don’t know if you can trust venti or not, head says no, heart screams yes

Also, I was listening to stormterror’s lair ost while writing it, just because its fucking amazing, you might wanna listen to it too

I’m nervous to post this?/&:! This is the second fic i’ve ever finished in my whole life

i love venti and he’s hot in his god outfit i don’t make the rules

KAY ENJOY <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

Saying you were exhausted would have been an understatement. After reuniting with your sibling, you had been frantically searching for clues about khaenri'ah and ways to Inazuma. With no luck, you couldn't find any traces of Dainsleif or of your twin. The ruins had been sealed and you had no idea what happened to the inverted statue or the corpse you had found there. Desperately, you clung into every little information you had, you would have turned every rock on this archon damned continent if you had to, which is what led you into those ruins near Guilli plains.

Walking along the destroyed buildings your eyes caught sight of a dandelion and you froze. You missed them so much, why couldn't they go back home with you? All you ever wanted was to be by their side why, why were they running away from you?

You remembered your travels, the moments you shared together, their protectiveness over you, the fondness in their eyes when you smiled at them. You remember the times you got hurt and healed one another with your now missing powers. You remember sleeping by their side and being grateful to the universe to let you keep your ray of sunshine everywhere with you. How ironic.

What had they meant 'once you reach the end of your journey' ? What does that even mean? Stupid twin, if they knew you were here the whole time, why hadn't they come to you? Why were they always leaving just when they were within your grasp? Why? Did they know how much you missed them and how much your heart broke when you finally saw them? Did they?

You only realized you were crying when a small gust of wind had your wet cheek react to the cold, breaking your train of thought. Wind.

The wind is everywhere, you think, free as a bird, always accompanying every citizen of this world, never truly alone. With this in mind, you resumed your exploring, slower this time.

A sigh escaped your mouth. You didn't want to admit it, but the wind did comfort you a little. Almost as if he was here. God of freedom and of the breeze, he was more a singer than a protector and you couldn't bear to think about him. Was it true? What Dain said... Did he destroy this nation? Was he the cause of the scenery that still haunted your nightmares up until 500 years later? Your brain simply couldn't accept that Venti, your Venti, you catch yourself thinking, could have made such an act of wrath. He was the epitome of freedom, why would he take the very thing he based all of his existence on from mere mortals? Barbatos simply couldn't be afraid of being overpowered, he didn't even care about power. All he wanted was freedom and happiness for his people. Surley this couldn't be right?

But then again, who were you to deny the wipe out of an entire nation? The gods did it. They were afraid that Celestia would be overthrown by the pride of humankind, the destruction of khaenri'ah by divine beings was a fact. There was no misunderstanding about this. That was the one thing you were sure of. So why did you feel like crying even more now?

The mere thought of a gentle soul such as Venti committing innocent people to an eternity of suffering didn't sit right with you. Even when his dearest friend Dvalin had turned against him, he didn't try to stop him, didn't even ask the dragon to save him. He healed and helped him, gave him a choice.

'What is freedom if demanded of you by a god?' was the same person that asked this question the same one who committed mass murder? Genocide?

Did the little wine-lover bard you had grown fond of destroy all hopes and light your kin had?

You remember that night when he freed Stanley from his burden, freed his and his friends' spirits. You had marveled at his action, in that instant he was a god, and he definitely hadn't struck you as a murderer. You remember that look of silent pain and grief in his eyes when he sang the tales of the nameless bard he had taken the appearance of. You knew he trusted you enough to share his story, something so personal, you could almost feel the war that took down the tyrant of Mond. Oh how much you cherished that evening, treating him to some well deserved dandelion wine afterwards, his favorite, and asking him to sing you more about the time where was nothing but the spirit of a breeze.

Your heart broke a little, remembering his rosy cheeks and drunk smile, you wish you could talk to him, ask him what happened. What did he do, was he really as dangerous as you had been told? If so, then why did you feel so good around him? Why did you feel like you could give hi-

You stopped walking upon seeing a ruin guard up ahead in the distance. You're so stupid, you think. Feeling this way is not gonna get you anywhere, especially with how the bard had been missing for a few weeks now. Ever since you had last seen your sibling.

Where was he, where was he wandering off to? You walk towards the disabled ruin guard, not really paying any mind to it, still thinking about the god you longed to meet with. If you could see him, what would you even say? Would he even answer your questions? Why did your stomach feel so light and funny when you thought about seeing him, why aren't you angrier?

You're almost at the killing machine's level now, so lost in your thought you don't notice the five other similar robots hidden behind a wall next to it. You notice them only when it's too late and you've already turned them on while thinking about examining them and collecting their serial numbers. When you hear the familiar tick of the mechanism turning on, you internally panic and think about running away only to calm down moments later and think to yourself that you can simply beat it and take what you came here for. Even if you are emotionally and physically tired, you can manage, you think.

That was before hearing five other consecutive ticks right after it, and all around you.

Turning around, your gaze falls upon the small army of field tillers. Fuck.

Paimon wasn't with you today, you had asked for some time alone which she hesitantly accepted, so you couldn't ask her to go fetch help. You would have been worried if you had all your capacities but with the state you were in, you were wondering how you were going to survive this fight. You were alone, none of your companions with you, and deeply weakened by the busy day you had and the few hours of sleep you had managed to steal away from the night. Was it today you would meet your doom, with all your questions and uncertainties unanswered?

You tried your best to fight with the strength you had left, but quickly grew desperate after what felt like hours of efforts to swing your blade and being able to only take one monster down out of the six. It didn't help that you got injured along the way, their blows becoming harder and harder to dodge. After being thrown on the grown for the third time, you understood you had at least two broken ribs and that your shaking legs would soon fail you as well.

Fear crept upon you, you would die here today, alone. Alone. You couldn't talk to your sibling after all, couldn't understand. You didn't even get to talk to him one last time. Him... You would die without the knowledge of the truth about your bard. You would die alone. You didn't want that, you couldn't look death straight in the eye.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

In Mondstadt, there was a musician, a weird singer everyone had heard about at least once. He lived off of his songs and was mostly known for having a great story-telling and being an alcoholic.

The number of people who knew the true nature of his identity were few and he was perfectly content with that. He didn't wish to be a god anymore, his gnosis had been taken away anyway and it's not like he had any power over the city of wind nowadays. Even if his people still worshipped him as Barbatos, it didn't sit right with him to be called a god anymore. It actually never did, he thinks to himself with a smile, he never really took any responsibilities that came with the divine title which is why he was so weak today. But it didn't matter to him, his smile turns into a soft giggle.

Sitting on a mill that was once born from his steps he looks fondly over the city he founded. Even if they were godless, the citizens were still thriving and free. He cared oh so very deeply about the place even if he rarely, if not never, showed the affection within his heart. He remembers the day he grew strong enough to dispel the storms over his actual Mondstadt, and made the weather gentle enough so that there was no need for fireplaces. Nowadays, he loves watching birds nest into the chimney tops and seeing them found their own home. It gave him a sense of belonging like no other, not above his people, but walking among them and watching them nest into this cocoon he created. He was proud of what happened to his land and would do it all over again if he had to.

Especially since it led to him meeting you. This thought doesn't catch him off guard, you often roamed around in his mind after all, and it's not like he didn't write at least three songs about you and your feat, your smile, your courage...

Ah there he goes again, rambling about you in a whisper. He turns around to the statue of him his people erected in his honor, chuckling at how they never made the connection with his signature braids. His, but not really his, since he had stolen this form from someone who was much more deserving of this power than him. Seeing his friend being honored with the statues of the seven around the land made him happy, he hoped that it was a good enough thank you gift in return for everything that the bard whom he couldn't even remember the name of anymore did for him.

Upon gazing at the statue, he remembered telling you of his long gone friend. It was the first time he had talked about him to someone else, he didn't even mention it to Venessa, she who made him believe in himself again. He could ask himself why, but he simply knew that you had something different, more than meets the eye. Perhaps it was because you weren't from Teyvat, or perhaps it was just you being as simple as your natural self but he was simply and utterly captivated by your being. You inspired him to no end, at first he thought it was because he had never met someone like you and he loved new things! But as time grew and he got to know you, he understood quickly the meaning and depth of his passions. He thought of it with a light chuckle, content with your presence alone. He really did need and want you around.

So why did he purposely avoid you like the plague?

The wind had brought to his ears that you had met with Dainsleif.

And your twin.

His first reaction was to search for you, talk to you, he wanted to be here to know what happened! You had searched so long, he couldn't contain himself, still listening to what the wind told him, he started running with excitement but... But wait, Dainsleif was... He told you what?

Oh.

So you heard about Khaenri'ah. He had stopped dead in his tracks and turned back, only sending a warm current of wind your way, hugging you from afar.

He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, not ready to face you and absolutely not ready to answer your questions. He was a coward, he thought, running away like that but what else could he do, really. It was only natural for him to be as uncatchable as air.

A sorry excuse to avoid the fact that even if his past had marvelous story like the one of the nameless bard, it also had its share of darkness, something he wasn't ready to dive back into. Especially not now when your arrival has been shaking this world up like it hasn't been since at least 500 years.

But oh, how he longed to see your face or to hear your voice. So he asked a breeze to report to him what you were up to, and where you were. Just in case! he tells himself, what if you needed help ehe? But he knows you're competent and you won't need the help of a weakling coward like him anytime soon. Or so he thought.

Because when the breeze only gives him a few words back, his blood runs cold.

"Please, anybody... Just help me."

-

As you murmured these words in your desperate state, not really for anyone but yourself as a last resort, a prayer of some sort, you tried to stand by leaning yourself on your sword and failing miserably. You didn't dare look up as you heard the loud footsteps of the metal giants coming your way. It was over, and you barely managed to accept it.

As you rested your forehead against the cold handle of your sword, you closed your eyes, tears starting to make their ways out of your closed eyelids. All you could feel was remorse.

A soft breeze moved your hair slightly and your chest felt like a black hole had taken place where your heart used to be, regretting to not have been able to meet him under the tree at Windrise one last time.

The breeze quickly grew stronger, until it felt unnatural and you looked up from the ground, only to close your eyes again immediately when you realized the wind was too powerful for you to keep them open. If you had struggled to see though, you would have been blinded by the white light that soon illuminated the whole ruins. You didn't have enough time to register the situation when you felt a hand being laid atop your shoulder, snaking around your collarbones and pulling you back into... nothing? Another arm circled your weak form and a voice you immediately recognized said

"I've dealt with things worse than you, now crumble."

You realized that if you couldn't feel a chest behind you while still being embraced by his arms, it was because he was floating above you, and not standing behind you. A look in his direction confirmed your suspicions but what stunned you wasn't the fact that he was flying, but the attire he wore. Barely covering his body, a white set made of materials that seemed like clouds and liquid gold contrasted perfectly with his regular green clothes. His hair was glowing green and his eyes that were focused on the ruin guards up ahead had a marvelous shine that you had never seen before. He had that same aura he did the night he freed Stanley, but there was also something different about the way his hands gripped you a little too tightly or the way his voice sounded.

"Venti.." You muttered his name, relief and affection flooding you all at once, in his presence you felt as if nothing bad could happen to you. How foolish could you be, just a few hours ago you were speculating wether or not he had wiped out an entire civilisation and now here you were, being saved by him and feeling safer than you had in months.

"Close your eyes, I don't want give you a headache" he said, slowly floating legs first towards the ground. His unusually serious voice surprised you (and him) but you did as he told you. Letting go of your sword and leaning back into him, you let him deal with the monsters ahead of you.

"It's okay, it's over now" he kneeled to be at your level, his arms still wrapped around you, and you didn't have the energy to fight your urge of nuzzling into him. "I'll always be here for you, wherever there is wind, remember I'm here too. You only need to ask."

Being protected by a god really didn't feel that bad. Especially when you were in love with said god.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Thank you so much for reading whatever this is until the end :’)

Don’t hesitate to comment or reblog, tysm <3

Ps: venti loves u and so do i do pls take care of urself mwah

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace