#my motivation and my brain cells... both dead

[burgercheese1812]

Funniest “no beta we die-“ tags that I’ve found on A03 and what i rate them:

No beta we die like authors who wrote this in one hour

♾️/10

it’s absolutely perfect.

It’s honest.

it’s relatable

more than i’d care to admit

No beta we die like barb

10/10

hit me right where it hurts

JUSTICE FOR BARB

No beta we just die

100/10

Straight to the point

No room for disagreement

No beta we die like the mc’s hope for the future

+♾️/10

I fully snorted when I saw this one

Too accurate.

Like waaaaayyy too accurate

I didn’t go on A03 to be called out like this.

it’s not trauma it’s ✨character development✨

No beta we die like my first love

8/10

Relatable.

First loves never work I swear-

I really hope this is talking about the love for someone dying and not the actual PERSON dying

No beta we die like my sleep schedule

100/10

Terrifyingly perfect and relatable accuracy

Perfectly summed up what it’s like to write fan fics

There is no room for a sleep schedule as a writer

No beta we die like my dignity

♾️/10

Honestly enough said.

I lose a piece of myself every time I decide to write fan fic

There is no room for dignity, only fan fic.

No beta sadly we die like my motivation to do uni work

10/10

Maybe not specifically uni work but I have definitely left work unfinished while I wrote a fan fic

You have too.

Don’t even deny it.

No beta we cry ourselves to sleep

100/10

The reason angst fics take so long to write is because we can’t see through our own tears

Angst writers only write angst to condemn someone to the same fate as themselves

Change my mind.

No beta we die like izuku’s will to live

100/10

The better side of the MHA fandom

The poor boy has been put through so much already

Does that mean we as writers will stop putting him through stuff?

No.

No beta we die like my heart did watching last night’s episode

♾️/10

Enough said.

I don’t even have to see what fandom this is from

All I know is that this is always the beginning of a great fic.

It’s a canon event.

We must sacrifice our mental state for the fics.

No beta we die like side characters

100000/10

I cackled

It scared my dog.

“Now I’m going to go into heavy detail about my life even though I’ve only said two sentences and been seen only twice” is when you KNOW they’re about to die

BUT WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HAVE TO DIE???

I HAPPENED TO LOVE THE RANDOM ICE CREAM GUY NAMED DAVE WHO GOT APPROXIMATELY 0.02 SECONDS OF SCREAM TIME

No beta reader we die like peeps in the microwave

7/10

This one made me laugh

I don’t quite know why

Anyone would die in a microwave?

Why are you jumping into a microwave?

Was the ending really that bad?

Was it the good omens season 2 ending?

Is there room in the microwave for 2 peeps?

P.s: I am assuming they meant ‘peeps’ as in people and not those little birds candy things from America

Absolutely no beta we die like Junpei

-100/10

You made me cry

Just 7 words and the tears were free

Why would you do this to me?

This but if JJK has emotionally scarred me for life.

I will actually rate it 10000/10 because I will admit it is hilarious

But I swear-

Absolutely no beta we go down like a faulty elevator

8/10

I mean fair enough-

No beta we die like my originality after this fic

8/10

You either have too much originality or too little originality

there is no in between for a fan fic writer

However, most Wattpad writers some how manage to both have no originality with the petite -5’5 valley girl who was just sold off to the band One Direction

But also too much originality with the amount of random bull$h!!t going on in the fic

Ya’ll amaze me on that app.

Again no beta we die like Jason!

100000000/10

The exclamation mark is the icing on the cake

It sounds so happy that Jason is dead

Like Jason’s dead! 😁

Just needs a :) face now

AKA no beta we die like our brain cells

♾️/10

Braincells?

What braincells?

I’m convinced most writer just have a fic idea and then go into a comatose and

💥 Bam💥

fic finished and posted on the internet forever

aka no beta we die of CRINGE

100/10

No writer can honestly say that they haven’t posted a fic that they look back on and don’t cringe so hard they implode

The cringe takes over.

It has a mind of its own

Almost No Beta We Die Like Uhh Bigender People

10000/10

This is so vaguely threatening??

What did the bigender people do?

Why are they dying?

Why the hesitation??

Are there more gender-ed people who are dying????

Were they’re too many from you to pick from????

WHY DID YOU HAVE TO TYPE THE “Uhh”??????

Also no beta reader we die like the missing children

1000/10

Again.

Vaguely threatening?

Why are the children missing?

Did you kidnap children to be your beta readers?

Did they escape????

Also no beta we die like our favourite characters

100000/10

Just like the side character one

This is PEAK comedy

No one can convince me otherwise

Also no beta we die like ants in the mighty spiral

10000000000000/10

I love subjective humour

I can relate to the ants in the their death spiral whilst writing fics

Also ants are cool

I really hope more people get this-

Also no beta we die like cishet white men writing their first erotica novel

10000/10

Hilarious.

I have never seen this before but I somehow already know what it looks like?

And it’s funny

Also no beta we die like endeavour’s hero career

1000/10

Extra points for the MHA reference

Dabi really DESTROYED endeavours hero career

Like the guy had it coming anyway-

Also I would like to point out that there were 4 OF THESE spelt in DIFFERENT ways, like some had a capital ‘Endeavour’

And that is funny to me because it implies that 4 separate people had the same idea for this tag

Also no beta we die like every fan-favourite character on spn

100/10

I just love how we as authors can all relate with our favourites dying all the time

Like it may be worded different but we all have the same idea-

There’s 1230 or something pages of just these “no beta we-“ tags and I would love to try and go through them but yeah-

I’m lazy 🫠

Might do some more rating soon 🫡

[the-firebird69]

The Town - End scene - The letter

Who said they were murders but it's not really yeah projects by the Morlock but yeah they're hitting each other so it's murder and Trump doesn't know how to shut up pick up saying it and saying it an **** and they don't like how they're treating him this guy Trump and his son people saw something today and had to look into it we're gonna get to it in a minute. 

So they're sitting here typing stuff on here on occasion get most of it off above 99% but they're putting code out there people are starting to block it finally you're hearing from them in their dream is coming to an end for a lot of them then they need to be finished off. The actresses and actors in this film have already been through nightmares that nobody would repeat they've been in this bloody war for a long time and they hate the empire but they learned sometimes they can be just as vicious and mean when some people are not cut out to be rebels trump is one of them he's a mess there are a few others ben does a great job it is a **** **** they both say they do too much and that's a lie it's a matter of fact they're all kind of the same then they're dangerous to our son and they're really pirates. She's reading a letter doesn't know what to make of it and her son can't figure it out so he knows what she'll do and then try and getting our son to Utah for a few months just when it looks hopeless the lawyer calls up and says your mother has passed away My son is laughing it's not his fault if he gets back in office it's his fault and it's Trump when it was in office he did this kovid stuff then he got his **** handed to him contracted the disease was threatened by millions to take it off or tell him what it is and he kept having to tell him that verify the false that started to hack him apart in other people he is a brain dead 30 times during that. And it's an idiot that would make sense but a son and daughter don't think so too many people hate him including Mac proper then said he's locked out and he says he gets what he wanted and it was motivated and he ruined himself absolutely devastates himself. And he doesn't have anything left it's way before the presidential race and it won't disappear and they have statements made up no you think about CVI CGI but they say he dropped out and isn't seclusion

The real answer is the max or **** and they say he died from covid 19 and they have people who hate him say it and they go after the remaining idiots this guy is a major lawbreaker he is right in your face without everything he's a liar that she does scoundrel the **** **** thief in a backstabber there's a big time hood using small time techniques it didn't last in his too mean they're going to capture him and bring him to Concord and light that up nicely for us lindo son and our son as long as he's as he's there that function will work. And they wanna study him there's a huge fight there after time they'll probably dissect his brain looking for foreign mutagen or different cells to study it. And he'll be dead that's what they're gonna do now they used atrocities as cover and we hate them and that's the more lock in others and they're gonna pay for it other people don't like them it's gonna be a hard world for them very soon. We have a lot to talk about today then we're gonna get to it.

Thor Freya

Olympus

and this is trump. who he is what he is not much but  up there at the top and exposed tons of stuff.   thinking we knew well ok and these nope. now they are weird themac proper but angry. need the jerk in to see why and weill be surprised he did most of it is rebeliou. yes

Hera Zues

[ennipuff]

“Wait, so you’re telling me you don’t need an ink pot to write?”

Holli is fascinated by Vixen’s muggle pens!

Vixen belongs to @rosievixen!

[readerstories]

Body Heat - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

Summary: Been re-watching Criminal Minds lately, and ofc reading fanfics, and I see that there are very few male readers out there so here’s at least one. Some classic bed sharing because something breaks during a snowstorm and it’s freezing, so time to share body heat ;) (AO3)

Warnings: nsfw, smut

Wordcount: 3891

A case in a small and remote part of North Dakota during the middle of the coldest winter in memory was not ideal to say the least. 

You liked snow and the cold, but even you had your fill by now. Everything is frozen, the ground, the bodies of the victims, even the snow was crunchy and no good to make snowballs with. (All of you had at one point or another almost face planted before getting wise and buying shoe spikes.)

At least the case was over and you had caught the killer alive this time, so that was good.

What was not good, was the snow storm currently raging outside the cabin door, causing the whole team to be stuck waiting for it to clear so you could take off. Because of course, this being a small town, there was no hotel, only small cabins to rent. But at least there were beds to sleep in, a small desk with a chair, a small bathroom (and a fireplace that you had yet to use), which was really all you needed.

The team had split up, since there only were two queen sized beds in each cabin. You had ended up with Hotch, which you really didn’t mind. He was always a quiet roommate, very polite and proper. Didn’t talk much, mostly went right to sleep when he got in, or stared at case files all night.

He was doing the latter right now, while you try to read a few more pages of your book before planning to go to bed for the night. You are trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, determined to at least reach the end of the chapter before sleep takes you. The only lights in the room were the one above your head, and the one on the desk Hotch was using which made it actually kind of cozy, which made your goal even harder.

That coziness disappears in seconds however, when the lights flicker, and then turn off.

Silence, then the both of you try to turn the lights back on a few times. Hotch’s cell pings with a new text, which he quickly reads, the cold light of the screen now being the only light source. 

“Seems the power is out, Morgan is going to the reception house to ask the owner about it since he’s in the cabin closest by.”

“Okay, good, at least it’s not only us.” A few beats of silence, and then another text. Hotch frowns as he reads it.

“Seems like the whole town is dark, the storm has taken out the power, but this place has generators.”

“Great!”

“But it only covers the essential stuff so no pipes will freeze, so we need to keep everything else off.” You nod, forgetting he can’t really see you in the dark.

“So only heat on in the bathroom I’m assuming.”

“Yeah.” You both eye the fireplace, and you sigh. 

“The owner told Morgan they are fully usable.”

“Well, let's see if I remember how to light one, it’s been a while.” You get out of bed, walking over to the fireplace to start trying while Hotch texts with someone, presumably Morgan again.

Stacking wood and finding some old newspaper curled up in the firewood basket, it only takes two tries and a few minutes to get a budding fire going. Proud of yourself as you watch the flames slowly catch while crouching in front of it, you feel Hotch’s eyes on you.

“Did Morgan say anything else?”

“He suggested we move to fewer cabins. I told everyone to stay in their respective cabins, we don’t need anyone risking going out in this weather when we all have good heat sources.” You nod, getting up and stretching.

“Well, I’m going to brush my teeth then try to sleep, and you should too.” Hotch opens his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him.

“You can look at those casefiles tomorrow, a fire is not the best light source when reading and making notes.” Hotch sighs, knowing that irritatingly you got a point. You smile a quick smile before going to the bathroom. While you’re in there the lights you had turned on before come back to light, but Hotch is quick to turn them off, two small clicks following right after one another. You check the oven in the bathroom, turning it down to half, knowing that should keep the temperature above freezing at least.

Neither you or Hotch speak another word to each other before going to bed, curled up almost fully clothed in your respective bed in the already colder room, even with the fire now going quite well in the fireplace.

You close your eyes, sure that sleep will come easy, as it was not that long ago you had almost fallen asleep while reading, nodding off between each sentence on the page.

But sleep doesn’t come.

Instead, you lay there, head empty of any thoughts, calm, but still you just can’t sleep.

You hear the wind blowing outside, each gust of wind making the cabin creak and groan quietly, barely there, but noticeable in the quiet of the night. The fireplace crackles, giving back at least some of that cozy feeling from earlier.

You can also hear Hotch toss and turn, which is unusual for him. The few times you had seen the man sleep or just been in the same room as him while he did so, he had been still, almost never moving other than his chest going up and down with each breath.

It takes an audible shudder coming from the other bed for you to realize why.

Hotch is cold, very much so. You can’t help the little smile that grazes your lips, almost a quiet laugh in its own right. So the cold is what does the big bad unit chief in huh?

You don’t feel good about it for long however as it’s clear that some solution to the problem is needed, as Hotch sounds no nearer to sleep than you are, and you are certain that like this neither of you will get any rest soon. So you cast a glance over at the fireplace before quickly getting out of your bed. Hotch quietly speaks your name, a question more than anything else. You drag your mattress, your pillow and duvet in front of the fireplace and put it down, turning to face Hotch, who has propped himself up on an elbow, confusion in his knitted brows.

“Come here.”

“What.” The tone is deadpan, not really a question in the word.

“I can hear your teeth clatter, I know you’re cold, so take your duvet and get in front of the fire.” Hotch slowly does as he’s told, surprisingly without asking anything. Or maybe he just sees your point. He drops his duvet next to yours, farthest from the fire, but you tut, moving it closest instead.

“You’re the coldest one, so you can sleep closest to the fire.” Hotch quirks a brow, but sits down on the floor as close to the fireplace as he can.

“Are you sure there is no ulterior motive? Maybe you just want it to be me to catch fire if things go wrong.” You grin, loving when Hotch lets his humor shine through his normally stoic facade.

“Maybe.” You get down on the floor too, laying down at the same time as Hotch. Before he can really react, you pull him close to your chest. It’s the surprise of it all that lets you drag him so he’s tucked under your chin, his hands on your chest.

“What are you doing?” You feel his whole body stiffen, even his words come out like that.

“Body heat.” You hum. Hotch stays stiff for a little while, but then there’s a big sigh as he relaxes a little. Slowly, one of his arms goes over your sides, still slightly unsure about this situation. You smile, resting huffing out a small laugh.

It’s already a lot warmer this close to the fire and though sleeping on the mattress on the floor like this isn’t the best, it’s better than being cold at least. And you’re not complaining about having an excuse to hold Hotch close like this, feeling him shift as he tries to get comfortable.

You feel your eyelids grow heavy, sleep creeping up on you as you get warmer. The last thing you hear before slipping into dreamland is the crackling of the fire, and a faint snore coming from Hotch.

----

Sadly, you wake up just a few hours later needing to pee. You somehow manage to get up without waking Hotch, so you are as quiet as you can be while doing your business. He’s still asleep when you get back, face relaxed.

You stop briefly to watch him sleep, as weird as you know it is. It’s just that you rarely see Hotch without a frown or a face made of stone, so you drink in the sight as long as you dare. Which is only a few seconds, but you stop yourself when you yawn.

With quiet steps you walk over to the mattress, slipping under the duvet and back to the shared warmth. This time it’s you that are dragged into Hotch’s arms as he mumbles something in his sleep. You try not to make any sound of surprise, as not to wake him still. You don’t mind this turn of events at all, as Hotch mumbles some words into your hair before they yet again turn to occasional soft snores. Letting out another yawn, you slip an arm over Hotch’s waist and let sleep take you.

----

It’s still dark out when you wake next, although this time of year it doesn’t say much.

This time it was Hotch moving that woke you, as your arms have made their way around his chest like he has done with his, holding him close and feeling his every move. You can tell by his breathing and movements that he’s awake, so you slowly talk, more or less asking the only question you have right into his chest.

“What time is it?” Another movement, most likely checking his phone.

“6:30 AM.” You groan, his deep and sleep laden voice doing things to your heart and brain you don’t have the awake awareness to think about right now.

“Back to sleep it is.” Hotch chuckles.

“This is past the time I would normally get up.”

“Is the storm still going on outside?” You both listen, and yes, over the low crackling of the now almost dead fire you can still hear the wind taking a hold of everything around it.

“Sounds like it.”

“Great, more sleep for us Aaron.” You can’t see the raised eyebrow, but you can almost hear it in his voice.

“Aaron?” You nod, trying to get in the perfect position to go back to sleep.

“Yeah, it feels weird using your last name when I’m cuddling with you.”

“Sharing body heat.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Aaron chuckles, and weirdly enough he ruffles your hair a bit. Your heart aches at the familiarity of the motion, but again, not awake enough for any of that.

It is then that it happens. In your effort to get comfortable, you shift your leg a little to high, and suddenly your thigh rubs against a clothed, but very obivous, erection. Aaron draws in a small sharp breath as you turn to stone for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, I, uh-” Suddenly more awake, but still not quite there yet, you say nothing at first. You could have made some lame joke about it you suppose, but instead you are just as awkward as him.

“It, it’s uh, fine, um..” Silence for a few beats, then you come to a mutual and unspoken agreement to just ignore it.

However, you find that no matter how hard you try, you can’t.

You’re not pressed up against his crotch or anything anymore, you moved your leg way too fast out of the way for that to still be the case.

But you are still in Aaron’s arms, which makes it hard not to think about it. He’s warm, a little soft, strong, and you can smell his cologne this close. His breath is steady, but too steady, like he’s trying to will himself to sleep. Your head almost spins by the feeling of it all, and your thoughts are no help either, replaying the moment over and over again in your head.

The noise he had made had made you stiffen, perhaps from other reasons than you would like to admit.

You don’t know how long you both lay there, trying to or pretending to be asleep, but you know it feel like forever and torture of the slowest kind.

An idea slips into your mind before you can really stop it, making everything else go quiet.

What if you did it again?

You had for a long time admired Aaron, perhaps in more ways than you were willing to admit to yourself or anyone else. And in some fleeting and weak moments you had thought he might be too. A lingering glance or two during a case when he thought you wouldn’t notice, him letting small smiles slip onto his face more often when you were around, him bringing you coffee from time to time.

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself as you move your leg again.

Another sharp breath from Aaron.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you still with your thigh pressed up against his still there erection.

“Trying something.” A beat where neither of you move.

“Stop me if you want.” Aaron says nothing and does nothing, so slowly, oh ever so slowly, you use your leg to rub against him. His breath deepens, and one of his hands moves to your hip, but doesn’t push you away, simply letting it rest there. Your own hands roam across his back, shifting, fluttering, trying to find purpose. In the end you grasp the back of his t-shirt as you slowly start to try to move him too.

Aaron groans, something that makes your own dick start to stir, and then he’s moving, and oh.

He seems in no rush, just rocking his hips ever so slightly forward, pressing himself against your thigh.

His breath is speeding up, and so is yours, almost panting in the quiet of the room.

As good as you are sure it feels, you want more, you almost need more. Removing one hand from his back, you replace your thigh with your hand, rubbing and fully feeling Aaron’s dick strain against the front of his pants. A hitch in his breath, an audible swallow, him continuing to move, now into your hand, spurs you on.

As far as you can tell through the fabric, Aaron is rather large, and certainly excited. You let your hand wander, squeeze, and rub as you please, every so often pausing to grab at his thigh instead, teasingly letting your fingers drag and dance along it.

A thought, and then your other hand is in front of you, gently touching his chest. You back away a few inches, careful to keep your touch still on him. Casting a glance upwards as you start to push his t-shirt up from his stomach, you’re met with intense eyes watching your every move. You swallow, Aaron’s eyes shift to follow the motion, then to your lips as you lick them.

He lets you push his t-shirt up under his armpits, and only then does he do any of the work himself, lifting himself up slightly so he can take it off and drop it on the floor behind you. You don’t let your eyes or hand linger on his scars, instead focusing on his chest.

He’s less hairy than you imagined, but you don’t care at all.

And you had imagined it.

But nothing could compare to the real deal. Feeling him turn to putty in your hands as you rub him through his pants, hear him groan as you let your hand brush against a nipple.

“God, fuck, you-” Aaron stops himself, letting out another groan as you you lean forward and plant a kiss on his chest.

“Ah, fuck, come here.” Before you can ask what he means, there’s a hand in your hair yanking you up, and then you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing Aaron Hotchner.

Fuck.

Fuck yes.

In less than a second you’re kissing back, mouths uncoordinated and messy as they meet. Your hand which had stopped rubbing him, starts up again while you kiss, and he moans into your mouth, which, fuck, that’s hot.

Both of his hands tangled in your hair pull you even closer as you both almost forget you need to breathe, only breaking apart to gulp down some air before diving right back in, lips moving firmly against each other.

Aaron is the first to add tongue, which makes you let out a little gasp, giving him full access.

He takes the opportunity, and not to be outdone, you move your hand from his bulge to the button on his pants. A noise of disappointment turns into a small moan as he realizes what you are doing. With all the noises he is making against your lips, it’s hard to concentrate, so you break the kiss so you can concentrate on zipping him down, and getting into his pants. Aaron moves forward so he can kiss along your throat, letting his teeth nip along the little skin that is showing from under your shirt.

“Fuck!” You groan, feeling the small smile Aaron can’t hide as he kisses your skin.

“Could get used to hearing that more often.”

“Yeah, good, fuck.” You curse whoever invented zippers as you fumble with it as if you were a fucking teenager.

Finally, a few seconds later, you are able to shove your hand into Aaron’s underwear and the smug smile you could feel against your skin turns into a moan.

“Fuck.” It’s low, but you hear it, glancing at him with a grin.

“I would like to hear that too.” You say as you start to pump his length, using his pre-cum as lubrication. Another nip to your skin makes you moan.

“At least your shirts have higher collars.” Aaron teases as he moves his hands from your hair to the hem of your t-shirt, dragging it up. You let go of him only so you can take it off fully, then your hands are right back on him. One on his dick, the other tugging slightly at a nipple.

Aaron drags you in for a kiss, and you moan into his mouth as he lets his hands wander all over you. Up your sides, over your chest, down your stomach. Your breath hitches as you think you know where he is going, but instead his hands settles on your ass, pulling you even closer, so close you can barely move your arm, but fuck, he raises his leg a little and now your hard dick is rubbing against his thigh. He rocks forward, seeking friction for you both, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth.

His cock is heavy in your hand, heat radiating from all off him were you are pressed close, still under the duvets. Your movements aren’t rushed, neither of you in a hurry to finish, but fuck, it feels good. Every rock of Aaron’s hips moves his dick in your hand, and presses him against yours, building up on the desire you feel taking over you.

One of his hands move from your ass to your hair, pulling at it as he stops kissing you briefly to moan into your throat.

“I’m close, fuck.” Your eyes flicker all over his face, greedily drinking in the look in his face. The normally stoic Aaron coming apart in your hands  is a sight to behold. Hair sticking in every possible direction, breathing heavy trough kiss-bruised lips is a sight you will carry forever.

You nod quickly, diving on for another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, come on, don’t hold back on my part.” Aaron groans as he comes, cum seeping trough your fingers as he shakes apart in your hold. You keep gently stroking him as he comes down from is orgasm, stopping when a shiver runs trough his body.

You’re still pressed close, so you you notice quickly when one of his hands moves down your front. He squeezes your cock trough your pants, and you buck your hips into his hand. He chuckles, and then he’s unbuckling your pants, and within seconds his hand is around your cock and moving. You moan, trowing your head back, giving him ample space to lean forward and kiss along your neck.

“Fuck, ah, no marks.”

“Good for you that it is scarf season.” Like the fucking tease that he is Aaron lick a long stripe along your throat, but he does move further down, sucking and biting bruises into the skin on your chest as his hand moves up and down slowly on your cock.

You can’t help the noises the escapes you, moans and groans mixing with heavy breaths. his hands is firm on you, taking you closer and closer with every second, building up until your toes starts to curl.

“Fuck, A-Aaron.” He hums against your skin, placing a last kiss on your collarbone before moving so you’re on eye level once more, a hand in your hair tugging lightly.

“Don’t hold back on my part.” The words are said with a small grin his face, and you div in to kiss him as you cum, spilling all over his hand.

For a few minutes, neither of you move, just catching your breath together in silence. You are the first to move, twisting around so you can get your t-shirt back. Aaron frowns, but you just use it to wipe his hand off and yours. You kiss his knuckles after you clean them off, getting a single laugh as a reaction. Discarding the t-shirt once more, you tuck yourself back into your pants, Aaron doing the same.

A few beats more of silence, both of you not really knowing what to say.

“That was-” Aaron breaks first, but stops himself.

“Yeah...” You can’t help but slowly break into a grin, then a little laughter. He does the same, quiet laughter and a smile making your heart warm as he pulls you back into his still shirtless chest.

You let him, content and almost ready to fall asleep again, but not before you get out some last words.

“Next time I would prefer a bed though.”

“Next time?” He questions as his hand settles against your back.

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I’ll remember that.” He ruffles your hair, placing a single kiss on top of your head. Within minutes you are asleep, back to dreamland in your arms, for once content with sleeping in.

(You don’t take your scarf off on the whole way home, but if anyone in the team notices, none of them mention it, but you can see a smirk threaten to break out on Hotch’s face every time he glances at it.)

[lunapwrites]

OK, so I feel like this right here deserves its own post and explanation rather than just me going off in my own notes lol.

The thing to remember about Peter (or at least the way that I see him) is that he operates on chaos navigation. In LTL, I make a reference in... I think chapter 7 about how he does the thing with the coin flips. He lets chance make his decision for him. He does this, in my view, because he's indecisive. Everything about him is indecisive: he was even a hatstall. He will not make a call until pushed, and then he will go with a knee-jerk response. In my head, he chose Gryffindor in the end because he'd made friends with Remus on the train, and Remus had already been sorted there. It was "fuck it, I know a guy there at least."

I don't think that Peter was actively fostering mistrust between his friends. I don't think he had to.

To kind of sidebar a bit here (only because I think it's important) I feel the need to talk about how conspiracy theorists can become so completely divorced from reality. Here's what it needs to start:

Feeds into ego (feel smart, superior, etc)

Rejects authority

Creates a moral high ground/indicates an enemy

To this end, all of the Marauders were incredibly susceptible to conspiracy theory. They were young, brilliant, arrogant, anti-authority (in general), and had already established a strong moral high ground to cast stones from at a very young age (see their treatment of Snape, reasoning aside.) So my thinking here is:

James

Refused to believe that any of the Order had turned coat, not just the Marauders, because it would have violated his strongly black and white moral view.

Sirius and Remus

Well versed in paranoia and intrigue, programmed from a young age to look for knives in the dark and to trust no one.

Were each aware the other had a strong reason to turn (werewolf rights & Regulus)

Principled but morally grey (James had the brain cell here.)

All three of them are brilliant young men, and capable of making fantastic leaps of logic. Consider how quickly Remus cottoned on to the truth when it was laid out in front of him! How quickly Sirius was able to identify Peter in a photograph and hatch a plan to go protect Harry! If we want to show this in a more negative light, consider Remus and his completely batshit logic of why abandoning his wife and kid was the Only Correct Thing To Do. Made perfect sense to him, of course.

They were intensely arrogant as well, particularly with Sirius thinking that he was outsmarting everyone (including Dumbledore) by switching Secret Keepers. And they were all, all of them, terribly afraid. But for this exercise we are only going to look at Remus and Sirius, because James is an idealistic walnut and never would have thought this far.

Sirius was afraid of someone betraying the Potters (b. Remus was afraid of someone betraying him. The direction of that fear is what informed the rest of their actions and their perceptions of others. So their thought process likely was:

Who is smart enough to get one over the whole Order -- including me?

Of these people, who has motive?

So that narrowed it down to someone that they felt was smarter than they were, and who had motive, and they were both arrogant enough to only believe the other capable of it.

Peter did not register for either of them; not because he's not smart (he is! Demonstrably so.) But because he had no motive. "Afraid" was, to them, not a motive. Everyone was afraid, and they were both so principled that it never occurred to them that was an option. Far more alluring was the call of conspiracy, and they both screwed themselves in doing so.

And just like conspiracy theorists, they stood their ground and would not be swayed no matter what evidence was handed to them until finally evidence appeared that they could neither explain away nor ignore. It had to be earth-shattering.

For Sirius, it was the fact that James had died, and if James was dead, the only person who could have been directly responsible was Peter. And it's possible that he entertained some wild thought that maybe Remus had gotten it out of him, but Peter himself would have put paid to that the moment they clashed in the street.

For Remus, this could go two different ways, depending on how you HC his take on Sirius:

A) He suspected Sirius the whole time, and Sirius being shipped off to Azkaban was just proof that he'd been right. Seeing Peter on the map was the only thing that convinced him otherwise, and only because he himself had a hand in creating the map. <- this Remus had a deep existential crisis (+guilt) at the end of PoA that continued until the end of his life.

B) He had suspected Sirius only of trying to betray him because of his lycanthropy. He NEVER thought for a second that the Potters were in any danger from Sirius, and had been counting on Sirius trying to work to save them, and thinking that he could at least work around that (otherwise he'd have taken Sirius out himself.) Sirius being sent to Azkaban after "betraying" the Potters completely floored him, and he struggled to accept that as the truth for a long time (and never really believed it.) <- this Remus had an existential crisis for 12+ years that resolved with his vindication in PoA, but was marred by intense guilt for being the first last nail in Sirius' coffin which he carried for the rest of his life.

(Personally I'm a fan of option B, but your mileage may vary.)

Anyway, all of that basically just to say that Remus and Sirius respected (and feared) each other so much that they convinced themselves that they were the ONLY ones capable of pulling it off. Even if Peter had wanted to, he never needed to lift a finger with the two of them playing Spy vs Spy with each other.

But again, I don't think it was ever his intention. I think that it really was just him basically running through the situation screaming and not having anyone he could turn to in earnest because they were all busy, and also they'd be mad at him. Peter Pettigrew was a perfect example of a man who consistently made the incorrect choice, right up until his last one, which ironically ended up killing him.

Edited to add: also with the Order, I think it was just plain prejudice. The kid from the dark family and the Actual Dark Creature were easier to think the worst of than Peter, who no one but his friends thought much of.

[drtenebres]

who are the most developed/most focused on characters right now??

Thanks for the ask!! It’s hard to say who is the most developed character right now, due to so many brain cells trying to work together, but we’ve all got our own individual ones we’re working on that we feel the strongest about !

@shslstraws :

blah blah blah this is where jude talks about oumota -Snelly (SHAAAAADDUPPPPP -Straws) 

Kaito (My beloved) - A commonfolk who was oblivious by the magic world around him until he inevitably is pushed to it, by living his new life as a Tenebroso werewolf. The cause for how he became a werewolf is unknown, and he tries to keep away from his friends and family to protect them from this “curse”. Kaito gets in a mix of mages and eventually meets with Kokichi, a plague doctor who claims he can cure him. He slowly realizes and comes to face the reality that is Tenebres. 

Kokichi (Most developed??) - A mage who lived in an orphanage until he gets adopted by two mages, Nagito and Hajime. Kokichi dreams of being far powerful than both his dads and going back to recruit the other orphanage kids to his upcoming organization. Until he gets a set back when he takes things too far with the magi academy, he gets demoted to a Plague Doctor; a low status of a mage. It is until he meets Kaito, on one of his duties, and believes if he figures out the mystery behind Tenebrosos, he will earn the right to regain his place back in the academy. 

Shuichi (Most Focused on ATM) - Born from the great Kyoko Kirigiri and Makoto Naegi, there are a lot of expectations put upon Shuichi since he was very young. The expectations were too high and too heavy to carry that Shuichi decided to leave behind that life and the Kirigiri name. He meets up with Rantaro who gives him the ability of a werewolf, and thinks he can finally start anew. Until he faces the same problems with being a werewolf and being part of a pack, Shuichi decides to live amongst the commonfolk with his new friends Kaito, Kaede, and Maki by his side. 

@baylardian-1 :

Kyoko (Most focused on) - A detective who grew up working under a large magefolk entity in the specific branch that deals with magic-based crimes. Kyoko is telepathic with a hindered use of magic due to a strange curse covering both of her hands. Because of her ability to read minds and the overwhelming loudness many voices can create in her head, Kyoko prefers working alone. Eventually she retires from her occupation and becomes a private investigator alongside her husband Makoto.

Hifumi (Most developed) - A hamster familiar most closely resembling a smitten patsy for Celestia Ludenberg. Not having many friends he impulsively chose to follow a pretty girl one day and has never ceased. Initially out of threat, Hifumi would perform healing spells for Celestia after her hunts in addition to take care of her every beck and call. Nowadays their relationship takes on a more unspoken respect and fondness for one another.

Mukuro (My beloved) - A Tenebroso werewolf nearing closer to being 400 years old in age. Born a mage alongside her younger twin sister Junko, many events surrounding their past are shrouded in mystery. As a Tenebroso she has an unnaturally extended life. Mukuro is naturally covered in scars and physically looks to be reaching her mid 50's-early 60's. She is most often however seen to be disguising herself as a young girl.

@snellymain :

Kiyo (Most developed) - A socially reclusive vampire with a guilty conscience and a sworn duty to feed by killing swiftly rather than turning anyone else into a vampire; since he hates his vampirism and his sister that cursed him with it. Has a huge fondness for humans and anthropology after his controlling sister's hatred for them caused him to have extremely limited interactions with them. Ends up committed to a mage named Angie while the unwanted spirit of his sister began haunting him after many years of being dead.

Mahiru (Most focused on) - A standard mage with very little powers and a high respect for her non-mage mother, matching her disdain for her mage father. She got into photography as she had no attachment to her underwhelming magic, until her mother urged her to go to an academy so she wouldn't let her powers go to waste like her father did. After doing so, being out in the world more, she met Hiyoko and Hiro; in which she happily adopted the former and angrily married the latter.

Angie (My beloved) - A healing-based blood mage raised communally on an island, she heals others wounds with their own blood and often secretly takes their blood for her own use while doing so; mostly to feed her partner Kiyo, but she also has a fascination for blood of her own, initially being a result of her village's blood sacrifices and now a result of her blood magic. Generally a loud nuisance, though a medically helpful nuisance, in her academy.

@samsquatchem :

Doodle + blurb done by Snelly ♥

Yasuhiro (Their beloved) - A nomadic powerful mage with a wide variety of powers, mostly focusing on clairvoyance and near-limitless telekinesis; generally wanders around getting money wherever he can but spending it horrendously, ending up in a constant flat circle of time. He’s basically homeless; not out of poverty but what he considers convenience and tax evasion, for the most part and bums around Mahiru’s place. Close friends and a father figure to Hiyoko, (much to Mahiru’s initial dismay) the two bond over their shared tendency to wander and be in a new place every week + magic that neither know how to use properly, she became quickly attached to him due to him being the first person to talk to her after she ran away from home. Hiro is able to see the future but unable to speak it verbatim or else the opposite outcome will come to fruition, he can only nudge clients in the right direction of his visions. Most people think his magic is a scam and he’s the most useless mage ever.

@sutexii :

Chiaki (My Beloved) - A wooden mask enchanted with a human soul, powered by dream juice and magic robotics. Created by Chihiro to live in the dream realm (where u go when u sleep + also where the killing games take place) to gather data on it for Chihiro’s research, and help those in it travel safely. Has a deep fascination with the unpredictable and strange, and enjoys seeking out new knowledge wherever she can. Still likes her games, and while originally given access to some to help entertain those she’s traveling with, she just ends up hoarding them herself.

Tenko (Most Focused On ATM) - Commonfolk w/ a smidge of monster that comes out when her anger peaks. Abandoned due to said anger issues as a child, and taken in by Aoi and Sakura. She had a very Ghibli idyllic childhood, having adventures with friends and delivering donuts for her mom. Learned martial arts from her mom, taking a particular liking to Aikido, and through it learned to control her anger. Follows childhood crush Himiko around to protect her, leading to her entering the less than legal artifact smuggling trade with her later in life.

Aoi (Most Developed) - Water elemental with a love for baking donuts and raising/rehabilitating carp. Married to Sakura, having met when she wandered into the pond in her family’s abandoned dojo and decided to stay to fix it up, motivating Sakura to fix the rest of the place up in turn. Very carefree, friendly, and laid back, loves kids and taking on the “fun auntie” role. Never worked on her humanoid appearance much at all until motherhood, Tenko enters their life and it became hard to hold back a feral monster baby with fins.

@Soupcifer_ :

Nekomaru (Franken-maru) (most developed) - A reanimated corpse who was brought back to life thanks to the help of Kazuichi and Mikan. Unfortunately, he has amnesia and thus no recollection of his past friendships and family. He's a lot more quiet and mellow in comparison to his old self which makes him seem pretty dull, but in actuality he's being rather attentive and simply trying to understand everything that's happening. He does a lot of behind-the-scenes work when no ones looking like cleaning up after Kazuichi and setting reminders for Akane (still a team manager at heart).

Gonta (My beloved) - A vampire raised by werewolves. He only recently came to terms with being a vampire as he lived most of his life assuming the form of a wolf. He has an obsession with bugs, classic literature, and vintage clothing. Gonta likes to follow around a few of his friends, Angie and Korekyio (wink), and be of assistance whenever he can. He unfortunately has trouble dealing with his vampire nature sometimes due to only having lived with werewolves, so he often turns to Korekiyo for help.

Chihiro (most focused on) - An electric elemental! Chihiro is the creator/parent of Chiaki and Monomi. They have a passion for creating things that run on electricity and magic and as a result created their two lovely daughters (that and to investigate the dream realm). Chihiro also has the ability to possess electronics and machinery! Despite being incredibly small, they can emit a surprisingly large amount of energy which makes possessing large or complicated machinery an easy task.

[sofijaeger]

hey, it's my first time doing any request so i'm little embarrassed but i'm excited too!! i love your writing so much<33 i had this in my mind for a while

Eren's s/o kissing his palms/hands or the spots where he usually bites his hand when he's about to transform

it can be anything(like drabble/headcanons etc. i hope you get me😭) once again I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM!!

that is so frickin adorable STOP I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BRAIN🥺 you can always request things to me, i’m not sure how soon i’ll get onto them but i will try my best and i love hearing from you!

okay i’m actually really proud of this one haha! the drabble will take place during the reclaim of shiganshina arc if that’s alright, and psa i scared myself writing a certain line because i had no clue how i was going to proceed after implying a major death LMAO. i think you’ll know what line i’m taking about but don’t worry nothing happens lol.

warnings: angst... IM SORRY🥲

words: 1.1k

kissing vow ~ eren x reader

Dawn quickly rose over the well-known territory. The part of land that was whispered upon for years ever since its fall, and a place strangely familiar to all your ears and hearts even if you hadn’t traveled there yourself. After the trip into the midnight wilderness you had arrived for a mission far greater than any other, and it was clear there were no visible signs of doubt from anyone.

Except for of course, the young boy with more pressure on his chest than anyone, one you cared for very dearly who’d call almost every shot with his actions. He was frightened beyond compare, so as the last few squads stood atop Wall Maria, urgently waiting for any signal, Eren was practically pissing himself right then and there. He had returned, devised a plan with all the leading commanders in just a few days, and was now preparing to risk his life for his homeland and people. There was no moment of rest for him or any of you. Besides the constant worry of succeeding the mission this very well may be the last time any of you see each other again.

You shout out his last name, once, twice, as he was too far in his own head to hear your first call and jog to him, gripping your delicate fingers over his shoulders. In the years you’ve spent together as scouts those small releases of tension-touching had become a clear sign you wanted each other’s attention, and you both caught onto the gesture quite quickly. Eren softened his eyes in your presence to notion just how focused he was on you. His subconscious would always allow his gaze to wander to you and what you had to say, he felt calmer that way.

“I already see you getting all inside your head, I thought talking about this on the journey here would be enough for you?” you whisper, leaning your head a little closer in attempt to understand what possibly was rumbling through his mind now.

“What if we lose”

“What?”

“I can’t bear to see us all lose! If we waited a little longer, a few more days, maybe we could have advised a plan that wouldn’t risk half the corps’ lives!” He tangled his hand in his hair, gripping the shaggy strands already coming loose from the stress he overdrove himself into. Your hands soften against the thick cloth of his cape, frowning at the few tears pricking his eyelids.

“Er, you’re more than welcome to cry to me later, just not now.” you chuckle.

“How are you so sure there’ll be a later y/n.”

You mouth opens before you can process your words, watching his cheek crane over to rest on the back of your hand that still lay against his collar. Here was humanity’s savior more worried than everyone minutes before call, but that you were perfectly fine with. This side to him was all the more proof that he was human, no matter what people labeled his being as.

“How am I sure? Bold of you to question my predictions Jaeger.” you exaggerate, placing your hands on your hips in a sneer. “I’m certain i’ll come back alive, and why? Because your protecting me with ever passionate fiber in your body, just as you will everyone else. You’re fighting for our justice against these monsters, the ones with no mind or cause. You have a cause to fight Eren and you have a heart too, a damn big one if I do say so myself. It’s the reason we support you with in the entireties of our own.”

With that, you intertwine your fingers around his right thumb, softly calloused to the touch he notes time and time again, and place it in front of your mouth to kiss. His body tenses at the feeling, but his eyes widen when he realizes where exactly you’ve placed it, your trust in him, where you’ve unknowingly hinted your years of growing affection for the boy in the heap of a split second.

Over the bitten scars littered down his radial.

He looks at you in confirmation of what he thinks it meant, and smiles into those fierce doe eyes of yours. A genuine emotion he hasn’t felt in months through grieving and loss, but could so easily melt into again with you.

So yes, he held a dangerous power, but it was all his. Something his true self was a part of that no one should ever neglect, and he found all the support he needed within the soldier right before him.

“Knock em dead Ren, do your best for everyone who’s lived and who will continue to. None of us would be standing here without you, so your presence alone is precious to us...

...We all believe in you, I believe in you.”

You guide his palm to your cheek, nuzzling into its claminess. As he engraves the plush feeling of his fingertips to your skin, a green smoke signal is fired.

And even when Eren was positive not everyone could be saved, he was reminded the ones following the biggest goals in the end would persevere and care for each other just as you had for him. He was confident you’d all succeed that way.

Like Armin now does over Commander Erwin,

Or little Gabi rather than Sasha, no matter what unjust brainwashing she believes.

But him or you, who would risk their own life caring for whom they loved most?

That was one thing he never wanted to find out.

Now he slouches in a rotten, stoned cell, contemplating what could’ve changed if only he had tried a little harder, or had this all been fate from the start?

His hand resting in his lap catches his glance, peering down at the bite marks still evident across his thumb. Surely if the marks he made as a teen persisted your kiss would too.

He slowly brings his hand up, cautious of any guards mistaking the move for another transformation, and presses his lips against the same spot you had. He closes his eyes at the warmth, sensing it was still emitting from your own lingering touch years ago. Unfortunately there had been no more little kisses, subtle clues of affection from either of you ever since. He liked those hints he really did, but now he was sure you stood a few floors above him, devising a plan to put an end to his scheme rather than caring over his emotions.

Weren’t you the one who told him to keep going though?

Perhaps if he had told you his motives beforehand rather than keeping them inside. How he appreciated every act of tenderness you gave him, more than anything he’s experienced before, how all this time he’s fought on this battlefield people called the world, for you and everyone else. Maybe then you’d stay out of his way and let him succeed, but his actions had no time for feelings or explanations. The freedom he desperately searched for in the future held no care for the past.

Yet he could never lie to himself and think you didn’t love him still, even after all this time. And Eren couldn’t deny anything about his own feelings for you, it’s what kept him going.

[yourreddancer]

A true story of how a child of the Religious Right became Pro-Choice in Seminary:

I was raised in an evangelical republican home with parents that voted for Richard Nixon twice and were in love with Ronald Reagan and the whole religious right homeschool culture. It was a one voter issue home, abortion, and my parents listened to Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity daily. 

I was raised in the epicenter of evangelical purity culture in the Bible belt and I was a good Sunday school student too. Since my parents were Bible college and Seminary graduates, I always knew more Bible even than the Sunday school teachers and pastors. My father taught me New Testament Greek when I was six.

Like a good Sunday school student I drank all the koolaid too. I bought the whole system, hook line and sinker. I went to Bible College and remember telling my first semester theology prof that I knew what we believed and I came to study why we believe what we believe. He rightly, went on to correct me, on what is a misguided motive for study at a Bible College, but that would be a digression.

It was in Seminary that I discovered that I had been lied to both by purity culture and also anti-abortion dogma. My first crack in the egg shell of purity culture was when my Hebrew professor took a whole class to teach us that in the Hebrew version of the story, Ruth and Boaz had premarital sex. But again, that is a digression.

It was in theology of anthropology that I first saw through the anti-abortion dogma. My theology professor had invited in the president of the most prominent prolife organization in America in, to talk to the class about abortion. 

My whole life I had always been indoctrinated to think life happens at conception and we are 100% certain of that. People even treat that dogma with more conviction of certainty than they treat the resurrection of Christ. I believed it too.

But when the guest speaker was asked, when does science say life begins, he answered with candor, that science can't determine the exact point where life begins. He admitted to the class we don't know when for sure. He went on to say to the class that the prolife position was in fact no longer that life happened at conception. He said advancements in cloning has made this an indefensible position. Any cell in your body can be used to create a whole new you. Therefore one embryonic cell can not be a person. He said, the prolife position has changed from life at conception to life at cell division, from one to two cells.

Now he thought this was a cute slight of hand. But for a boy who had grown up on right wing prolife koolaid, with life at conception as a rallying cry of dogma, the implications of this were penetrating. 

If he admits that science can't tell for sure that life happens at conception. And he admits, we just changed the whole thing we told everyone was sacrosanct, then to me, they were just guessing and didn't know what they were talking about.

After Seminary I went into medicine as a board certified surgical neurophysiologist. I read EEG activity for a living. It moved from an ethereal conversation to one of actual consequence. EEG activity matters. I do a job where, I know that if I tell the surgeon I'm assisting, that the patient has gone isoelectric, they will stop life support and call time of death. It is accepted without question based on years of neurodiagnostic studies that when the brain dies, the person is dead, regardless of a working circulatory system. The circulatory system can be prolonged after brain death, therefore a circulatory pulse is not alone indicative of life. We stop life support at brain death without attribution of moral guilt for murder. Because we know the person is no longer alive.

Convienently, EEG activity is the same standard used in NICU to save a premature delivery and usually not before 20 weeks because 20-22 weeks is the gestational development of EEG activity. No brain, no life. And this is the actual development of gestation. Life cannot begin at conception. It's a physiological impossibility:

Many fertilized eggs do not have compatible DNA and RNA and do not form a cell. Many formed cells do not divide. Many dividing cells do not implant in the uterus and are ectopic or uterine septic. Many implanted embryos do not develop EEG activity and are stillborn. At no point in this gestational development is an embryo alive. Incompatible DNA and RNA do not make a person. One cell that doesn't divide doesn't make a person. A dividing cell that never implants isn't a person. An implanted embryo with no central nervous system is not a person. No EEG activity, no life. For adults too. These are just medical facts.

Then I researched, for myself, as an 8 year college and grad school trained Bible professional, what the Bible and religious tradition actually teaches on abortion. I found that the Bible explicitly condones a potion induced abortion in the context of questioned paternity in Numbers 5:22. Don't bother trying to say this isn't about an abortion. I've spent hours on this one verse in Hebrew because of social media arguments alone. It is 100% a condoned abortion. This is supported by scholarship and Jewish tradition. The Bible also says 3x specifically that aborted embryos were never living people, Job 3:16; Eccl 6:3-5; Ps 58:8.

And that's why in Jewish tradition, for the first 40 days the embryo is considered nothing more than fluid and grants abortion as a reproductive right. The Bible actually describes a two stage process in both Genesis 2:7 and Ezekiel 37. First the matter is formed. Then secondarily the matter is animated with the breath of God. Ancient Mesopotamian studies show the context for this is called an "Open Mouth Ceremony." Which describes the stage of animation by the spirit of God, and then personhood, as a secondary subsequently developing stage of gestation. It would seem then that the Biblical context is actually very consistent with modern medicine determining life animating at a secondary stage of gestational development, at around 20 weeks, that is discernable with active EEG activity.

I also searched christian tradition. I discovered that there was no big argument over life at conception. It was perfectly acceptable in Christian tradition to believe life did not begin at conception. In fact, it was the Christian position to be pro choice and pro reproductive freedom before the 1970s.

Much has been published on this now. Whistle blowers that contributed have come forward and given testimony. On how segregationists in the southern evangelical right could no longer dog whistle their base with a race baiting narrative so they invented this idea that abortion is murder as propaganda to raise political donations and support. People actually had actual meetings where this was planned and discussed as a grift of propoganda. People that were there and contributed, but have since regretted their actions have told the story. The roots of racism in the prolife movement is actually well documented. 

As a health care professional, the medical privilege you have with your doctor is perhaps the most sacrosanct right you possibly possess. It's literally more important than attorney-client or priest-parishoner or husband-wife. Nobody gets to tell anyone what's right for their body but their doctor. And nobody gets to make anyone practice someone else's religious beliefs.

As a theologian, I don't believe in a God that would make miscarried or aborted fetuses alive people only to have them die in their sins without the opportunity for faith in Christ. It seems weird to say that but, most all women will have a miscarriage in their life.

 So it's not a small matter. Where do aborted babies go when they die? The Bible is clear, the wages of sin is death. So if they were alive and then dead, it was a wage of sin that they died in. My God doesn't make miscarried or aborted embryos alive. My God isn't condemning millions of aborted embryos to an eternity of death as a wage of sin. If you say that aborted babies go to heaven, then abortion could be logically argued to even be a grace that prevents them from a potential life of sin that could condemn their soul. 

Scientifically, Theologically, Biblically, I came to believe what are just the facts. Prolife propoganda was invented by segregationists in the 1970s and it is soundly contradicted by rational thought and factual education. Abortion isn't immoral. Sperm is not some kind of incurable virus. Abortion isn't murder. And the idea of taking away someone's medical privilege for anything in the world is just slavery. You don't even get to take a kidney from a dead corpse to save an adult human without consent. Medical privilege IS a God given human right that is in fact protected by the US Constitution

[sunaswife]

𝕻𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖎𝖒

Shigaraki X f! Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, brainwashed/ programmed reader, implied kidnapping, Dom/sub, use of the word ‘pet’ and ‘master’, first time sex, uh..does this count as yandere..? Idk lol

🔪: this is like my second time writing smut so I’m sorry if it’s bad 🙇‍♀️ plz don’t spank me. N E Wayz I dedicate this fic to @aoi-turtle 🖤 and Any other shiggy whores out there

Edit: I FORGOT TO TAG @dinablossom and @toworuu IM SO SORRY BSVAKAGSJA

Summary: Imagine being programmed to be the leagues healer but also Shigaraki’s little cum bucket

♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎♡︎☠︎︎

“Master what is the meaning of this.” Shigaraki looked at the television screen as he scratched his neck. “I took her quirk and made it a thousand times better.” He said simply. “Tomura shigaraki where should I place her?” Kurogiri asked. “Anywhere. I don’t care. I just don’t understand why you brought a stupid hero here.” He said annoyed.

“Now now—“ “Shut up and put her somewhere out of my sight!” Tomura demanded and Kurogiri sighed and carried your body to the spare room by shigaraki’s private quarters. You looked dead, you were exhausted, traumatized, in shock.

You were frozen. Your eyes stayed open, unblinking as you stared at the ceiling. It looked as if you were dead. But your body is warm and you were breathing, you’re alive and you’ll recover quick. Thanks to the quirk All for One fixed for you.

Dabi smirked at your ruined form. Spinner hid his rosy cheeks, you were a cute one. Toga was excited to have another girl in the league she talked with Twice about all the fun things you two could do together. Whether it be painting your nails, doing your hair, torturing someone, or making them bleed. She was excited.

“What’s so good about her quirk that you needed it.” Shigaraki asked. “It’s come to my attention that the league has been missing an important puzzle piece.” He started off. “Yeah? What’s that?” The light blue haired man asked. He was beyond ticked off to have a hero here. “She’s not a hero. She was training under UA’s school nurse. But she fell into the hero course for recovery and first aid training.” He said and everyone stayed silent and patiently listened to the brain behind the league.

“Her quirk is pyrokinetic regeneration. She manipulates fire with the energy of the person who needs healing and together she heals with so called fire. Her quirk was small, only a few cuts a bruises here and there could she heal. But I added cell regeneration so she can even fix up deep wounds that could need surgery in a matter of days instead of months.”

“Sounds amazing! No she could use her fire against us!” Twice said and Toga nodded. “She won’t. Her fire doesn’t burn unless you’re hurt.” Kurogiri returned. “But she’s still a hero brat so wouldn’t she try to resist?” Dabi asked. “I don’t know but let me try and see!” Toga giggled and pulled out a knife she easily slit her wrist and skipped her way to your new room.

Out of curiosity the other members followed suit. Shigaraki first, he wanted to see if you were truly useful if not then he’d disintegrate you right here and now. “Hi hi new friend! My name is Toga!” The psychotic girl giggle as her blood dripped all over the floor. You looked up slowly from your spot on the bed. “H-hi...T-toga..” your voice was low. “Kurogiri Can you bring her some water?” Toga asked and he left and came back in the blink of an eye.

Your hands were shaking for the cup of water but Toga held it back, away from you. “If you want the water then heal my wrist first.” She said sweetly with a giggle. “Heal your wrist?” You whispered and she nodded. “O-okay..” you stuttered and you slowly removed the blanket from your lap. You stood up with wobbly legs to go to the girl but you fell. The chain on your ankle pulled you back. You winced and looked at her, pleading for her to come to you. She asked if you were okay and when you responded she shoved her bloody arm to your face. “Take a deep breath. This may sting...” you started and a small green flame came upon your hand. You rubbed the flame over both of your hands like you were putting on lotion, finally when the flames covered both hands you pressed hard on her wrist. She winced, “ow ow ow.” She whimpered, you removed your hands and everyone stared at the flame around her whole wrist. “Give it thirty seconds....or not...” you said as you stared wide eyed at her already healed cut. It was barley a touch and it’s gone now. “Wow. No scar!” She giggled and turned to show the guys. “Wow stab me next, please don’t or else I’ll bite ya!” Twice said and you reached for the water. “Interesting.” Shigaraki mumbled with a small squint. Kurogiri looked over and hoped he wouldn’t do anything bad to you.

“Shows over. She needs her rest.” Kurogiri said and everyone left one by one. Toga gave her a hug and wished for you both to be the best of friends and she skipped away. “Tomura Shigaraki. What are you thinking?” Kurogiri asked as Shigaraki began to walk into your room. “Nothing that concerns you.” He spat and slammed the door. Kurogiri sighed but returned to the bar nonetheless.

“Do you know who I am?” Shigaraki asked, “Yes you’re the leader of the league of villains, You’re name is Tomura Shigaraki and your quirk is decay—“ “that’s enough!” He raised his voice and looked at you with wide eyes.

You looked so sad and you glanced down at your cup. “Mr. shigaraki I know I don’t usually talk this much. I’ve always been the quiet type. I think whoever kidnapped me gave me a huge sense of knowledge. I know the league is bad but I don’t care about the heroes anymore and I don’t know why. I know everything about you guys, your true identity, your quirks, your past. And when I see you I—“ you quickly stopped yourself.

Shigaraki raised a brow. “You what?” He asked curiously. “N-nothing. Just forget it.” You answered and he growled. “Answer me now before I kill you.” He said and your legs subconsciously clenched together. You stayed quiet and your chest rose and fell a little more quickly. Why was this feeling in your chest when this killer, this man child looked at you? What exactly did the man he calls master do to you?

Before you knew it he gripped your chin and lifted it harshly so you could look at his wrinkly red eyes. Even though he looks like a bum he smelled nice and clean. A hand was covering his face and you slowly lifted your hand to touch it and his other hand grabbed your wrist. “What the fuck are you doing? Do you have a death wish you fucking idiot?” He growled and you gulped. “C-can i see your face?” You asked and he tilted his head confused.

“No. Answer my question-“ before you both knew it, as if your body had a mind of its own you tackled shigaraki down and you snatched the hand off his face. His hand quickly wrapped around your neck and arm and you pressed your lips against his. He halted his finger from pressing against your neck. He was beyond confused.

“If only tomura finished listening to what i had to say.” All for one chuckled loudly. You both were able to faintly hear the television from down the hall. “He would know that I managed to change y/N’s desires and whole way of thinking. She’s now with the league of Villains and she’s in love with its leader, Tomura Shigaraki. Consider it a present and motivation for the future of the league.” You both heard and you pulled away from him. “I’m sorry. I should have asked.” You said lowly. He stood there stunned and silent.

He slowly sat up and looked at your figure. “So you were brainwashed like my Nomu.” He hummed and took a few steps back. He noticed how you crawled closer to him but the chain was keeping you away.

“Who do you love?”

“You.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“Who’s your master?”

“Tomura Shigaraki.”

You said and he smirked. He was gonna have fun with you. “At least master was kind enough to give me a beauty.” He said as he held on to the chains. “Don’t freak out.” He warned and you nodded. He disintegrated the chain around your ankle and he pulled you by the arm. You were wearing an ugly hospital gown and you were barefoot. You couldn’t help but shiver. He went next door to his room and he shoved you in and slammed the door. You nearly tripped over the mess and you turned to look at shiggy. “Why are you just standing there?” He asked, “You haven’t given me orders.” You deadpanned. “You can’t think for yourself?” He questioned. “No i can but I Don’t want to upset you.” You replied.

“Fine then clean this shit up.” He referred to his very very messy room. You nodded and began to lift up a piece of trash but he pulled you away. “Change first.” He said and handed you a black hoodie. “Do you have a bathroom?” You asked. “No change here.” He said and you nodded. You turned so your back was facing him and carefully began to take off the gown, leaving you completely bare and Shigaraki couldn’t help but look.

Your skin was so beautiful and looked so soft. He saw as you carefully put on his hoodie and it completely engulfed you. It reached to your mid thigh. You slowly turned to look at him with rosy cheeks. The hoodie smelled just like him. “Tomura—“ “It’s master to you.” He Interrupted and you nodded, subconsciously squeezing your thighs together once more. “Sorry...m-master.” You said and played with the hem of his hoodie.

“Master..can I have some underwear too...? I feel weird, when I’m bare underneath..” you asked. “No, continue cleaning my room.” He answered coldly and sat on his gaming chair. He turned on his console and began playing whatever game he had.

You sighed and you couldn’t help but admire his gorgeous yet scarred face and his beautiful long fingers. In an instant he can kill you, but if you’re good..then he might even reward you. If you were to die, I’d rather be in the hands of your master than anyone else.

You quickly began you pick up the instant ramen bowls and bags of chips. You separated recycling and trash. You even managed to pick up all his dirty clothes and put it in the hamper in less than an hour. Tomura was stunned, one minute he can barley walk in, the next It’s almost spotless. He saw you from the corner of his eye, you were folding his clothes that practically had the same color scheme.

“Can i go through your drawers to put your clothes away..?” You finally spoke up. “Yeah it’s whatever. I don’t care.” He mumbled and returned to the screen. “Ugh stupid game!” He huffed and began pressing the controller more furiously. You chuckled and thought that it was so cute and adorable when he was frustrated.

You went to his California king sized bed and began to fix the sheets and make his bed. Since it was so huge, you had to climb on to properly fix it. You were completely in your own world when Shigaraki turned and saw your wet cunt on display in all it’s glory. Ever since he saw you he couldn’t help but feel that urge to take you. His resistance was getting to him and now he wanted to give in to his urges even more. He was too distracted that he lost the fucking game and he growled and disintegrated the controller. That was his own form of rage quitting.

You heard his sound of frustration so when you turned you expected him to be in the same chair uttering bullshit, but you were shocked when you felt your hips being pulled back. Your cunt was touching his pants, but you can feel his bulge. “Um..master..I—“

“Shut up.” He said and reached for your neck. He pulled you back to him and wrapped his other arm around your waist, hovering your aching clit. “This is whats gonna happen.” He started off and you nodded. “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to like it. Okay?”

“I understand.” You said softly, you felt his hands slowly lift up the hoodie just a bit to get a better view of your ass. You couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. “I know I’m probably not your dream girl but I promise to be a good girl, master..” your voice shook. He tilted his head, were you getting insecure?

“No pet, you’re perfect to me.” He assured and you could hear his belt jingle as he took it off. “You seem pretty wet already, pet. Since how long have you been like this?” He asked as he got out of his jeans. He slowly open your cheeks to reveal your little pussy clenching around nothing, how cute. “Since I saw you..” you mumbled. He smirked and leaned down. He immediately began to eat out your cunt causing you to gasp in shock and grip the sheets. Your chest layed roughly against the bed as your ass stood proud in the air for the leader of the league of villains to enjoy.

“Fuck—“ you moaned and you felt a slap on your ass. You slightly jumped released a small yelp. “Watch your language.” He growled from your pussy. “Yes master.” You whimpered and he slowly began to rub his thumb on your other hole. Your small moans filled the room and he easily slipped his middle finger in you. You squeezed around him so deliciously, he couldn’t help but wished his cock was inside.

This has never happened to him before, this feeling in his chest. Someone that loves him and will obey his every command. You’re so beautiful as well, and your sounds. Your moans and whimpers, in all honesty he jut wanted to get himself off. But after hearing you and seeing you. He wants to make sure you have pleasure as well.

He continued pumping his finger in and out of your slick walls and your voice started getting slightly higher. “Master...I—I’m gonna cum...”you panted and your toes began to curl. “It’s okay, cum for me, pet. You’ve been a good girl.” He said softly and he felt you clench around his finger. When you came he slowly removed his finger and examined it. You must be new to is if you could get off with just one of his long fingers.

You layed on the bed a bit tired, not paying attention to your master who had tasted your cum on his finger. It was delicious and he wanted another taste. When you felt a lick on your cunt again you immediately shivered and clenched your thighs. “Hold still I just wanna taste some cum.” Shigaraki huffed and he pulled your thighs apart. You were pretty sensitive but you obeyed nonetheless.

You moans began to fill the room once more and before you could finish and cum again he pulled away. You automatically whimpered and turned to give your master puppy dog eyes. “I would let you cum again, but my cock is so fucking hard I don’t think I can wait another minute.” he said and began to pull down his boxers.

Before you could get back in position, which freaking hurt, he flipped you over on your back and you made a small oof noise. You looked up to See shigaraki focused on his cock, he was rubbing himself up and down your slit to use your cum as lube. “Alright I’m going in.” He announced and slowly pushed his rather large member inside your tint cunt. You immediately yelped and held on to his biceps. “M-master wait—it hurts..” you pleaded and Tomura finally looked up at your face.

He loves inflicting pain, he loves watching people’s painful expressions when they’re hurt or when they’re gonna die. Chisaki’s face was so amusing. But when he saw yours, his heart shattered and he didn’t want to hurt you at all. You’ve been nothing but good to him, he doesn’t want to hurt his little toy. “I’m sorry.” He apologized, “it’s okay..” you sniffled. After a minute of him being patient you gave him a nod and he continued to slowly bottom out.

You both released a moan when he was all the way in. You both have never felt anything like this before. “Can I start moving?” Shigaraki asked you as he brushed way the hair from your face. You nodded and he pulled almost all the way out and he slammed back in. Your little gasps and moans came back which made shigaraki feel at ease. You can clearly hear your slick with every thrust and it was music to his ears.

“I’ve been neglecting these.” He grunted and lifted his hoodie over your chest. Finally he was able to see your beautiful soft breasts bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He moaned and immediately lowered his mouth to one of your nipples. You squealed and your back arched and he pushed you down. “Master...” you moaned softly. His tongue swirled around your hardened bud and your fingers tangled in his light blue hair. Two of his fingers pinched your other nipple and he lightly bit the nipple in his mouth.

“I think I-I’m close—“ you gasped and he removed his mouth. His thrusts decreased in speed but they became harder. He had a stupid smirk on his face and your eyes widened when he wrapped his hand around your throat. “Hold it until I say so.” He demanded and you muttered a weak yes. He felt how your gummy walls squeezed against his large dick, he was getting close too. “Fuck Fuck Fuck.” He groaned with his head tilted back and your mouth watered at the sight. Why is he so fucking handsome?

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax so he rubbed his thumb on you clit while increasing his pace once more, causing you to be even louder than before. Everyone in the bar could hear and a certain fire villian grumbled in annoyance. “Master I can’t hold it anymore!” You screamed. “Then cum my stupid little pet. Cum all over my cock like a good girl.” He grunted and bit his lip at the sight of your sweaty body. Your bouncing breasts, crazy hair, your adorable ahego face, your twitching legs and finally your grip on his biceps. You were so prefect and so good to him and only him.

When you came you felt his cum shoot inside you as well causing you to gasp at the delicious feeling. Tomura rested his head on your shoulder and tried catching his breath. You couldn’t help but smile and blush at the closeness. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and you gave his shoulder a kiss causing him to freeze. “I love you master, thank you for making me feel good.” You said softly. He chuckled and pulled you closer, “I love you too.”

I wanna write a part 2 of Shiggy finding out his little toy is being used by a certain fire boy 👀

[neonoddeye]

New Home | Illumi Zolyck x F!Reader

A/N: That’s it, I’m tired of hiding; I’m an Illumi simp. This was initially going to be soft, but I’m a horror writer, so I did what I do best. Hope you don’t hate it!

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, mentions of death, and Illumi is weird as hell (but you knew that already)

It didn’t take anyone special to figure out that Illumi hadn’t been on a proper date before; simply put, the man didn’t have time for it. In fact, the idea of setting aside his responsibilities for another life form so much as to date them had never crossed his mind- until now. He had admired your strength from the moment he crossed your path, even acknowledging that the feeling was unrequited. Shortly after, in his typical way of doing so, he obsessed over trying to find out everything about you until he simply could not bear with being kept in the dark. He was ready to wipe out the seven seas in a search mission for you... until he stumbled upon you in Yorknew City.

You were heading back to your hotel room when the raven-haired man himself stopped the three of you dead in your tracks. His aura had disturbed the area so intensely that it could have decimated everything in a 10-mile radius, but to his surprise, you stood your ground. Little did you know that your attempt at intimidation only motivated him further, because that kind of strength is exactly why he pined for you. Upon meeting your gaze, he offered you a small smile. “Ah, finally Y/N, I’ve found you”, he broke the silence as he made his way towards you. “I-Illumi?” was all you could manage to sputter out in response. You’d be lying if you said the man hadn’t scared you; however, his menacing aura had diminished a little, almost as if he was inviting you to come closer. With his focus completely on you, he extended his hand, and you found yourself gravitating towards it. While you hadn’t taken the man into much consideration, his newly-surfaced interest in you had immediately begun to intrigue you.

His magnetic attraction had pulled you all the way back to the Zoldyck Mansion with him, even letting you disregard how long you’d be there. The more you were in reach of his aura, the more it became wonderfully intoxicating to you. Upon arrival, however, you had noticed something a little off. It seemed that, somehow, every square inch of the place was anticipating your arrival. The butlers had greeted you rather warmly for a first-time guest, and no one had questioned your place at the estate. Was my arrival predestined?. You decided not to think of it much, and followed him up to the bedrooms. As soon as he opened the door, your blood ran a little cold; it was a guest bedroom that seemed completely prepared for you. “ Dinner will be ready in an hour, meet me in the dining hall then.” He left you with a fleeting smile, and closed the door behind you.

You observed the room carefully, taking in each and every detail and over-analyzing it in your apprehensive state. You walked over to an illuminated vanity with an organized set of makeup and a dress neatly folded on a stool. Illumi’s words came back to you about dinner, and you suspected that the dress was laid out for you. Taking it in your hands, you observed the dress; it was a dark green that matched Illumi’s clothing, and it reached the floor in length. As you tried it on, you were relieved to find that it was modest enough; but to your dismay, it fit you perfectly. The dress seemed as though it was tailored to fit no one else but you, which took the fear that Illumi had been expecting you and dragged it to the forefront of your brain. You drew a long breath before sitting down and starting on your makeup. As you picked up the concealer, you noticed that your hands were shaking, and clammy enough to almost allow the cylinder to slip through your fingertips. There was no hiding it now; you were utterly terrified, and every cell in your body was screaming a different warning at you. A particularly loud thought told you that the Zoldyck Mansion was looking to be your new home, whether you liked it or not.

``````

“I see you found the dress I picked for you”, Illumi spoke as soon as you entered the dining hall, “you look lovely in it.” He sat at the end of a long rectangular dining table, surrounded by the largest amount of food you’ve ever seen for two people. Looking forward, you noticed that your place was at the other end of the table, almost far enough from Illumi to make you raise your voice as you addressed him. “T-thank you. For the dress, I mean.” You sat down and observed the enormous space; two butlers were stationed at both ends of the table, with one about six feet from where you stood. The exit stood a little ways behind Illumi, and in front of the massive double-doors was a guard. A guard? Why the hell do they need a guard for dinner? A small shiver ran up your spine as you attempted to suppress other questions, and you reached for the glass of wine in front of you.

“How are you liking your stay here, Y/N?” Illumi asked you, pulling you from your thoughts and making you jump a little in your seat. “I, uh,” you began, trying to form a sentence that would address your concerns in the most polite way possible, “I feel like… you’ve been waiting for me? I mean, this dress fits me perfectly, and everyone here seems to have expected my arrival.”

“Well I did notify the butlers that you would be arriving, if that’s what you mean,” Illumi responded nonchalantly, glossing over the other points of concern. “I hope that they do not bother you too much- if you’re not used to it, I understand. You will be soon.” Something seemed to flicker in his eyes at the last statement, revealing that sinister thoughts were swirling around in their bottomless trenches. Maybe if this man were easier to read could you grasp the situation at hand even a little, but he concealed his emotions effortlessly, making yours in turn seem childish. “Do you like the selection here? I believe it has your favorites,” Illumi once again broke your stream of consciousness, leaving you to observe the food in front of you. Your heart sank; nearly everything in arm’s reach of you was a favorite of yours, even down to the way you preferred it. Your jaw dropped slightly, and fear filled your stomach. If he was able to find out this much about you, you weren’t sure if you were even hungry anymore. But something told you that you needed to eat, so your shaking hands picked up a fork and reached for the closest thing towards you. As you ate silently for a bit, you rehearsed lines in your head, questions you could ask that would give you any sense as to what the hell Illumi was planning. Eventually, your jaw settled, and you spoke.

“Illumi, the food is wonderful, thank you,” you started, “but I… can’t help but think you’ve been stalking me before we met today. What’s going on?” Your eyes traveled from your plate to meet his, expecting to see any trace of an emotion in them and finding none. Instead, you found in every second you looked at him that the confidence and strength you normally had was deteriorating. It was almost as if Illumi was reaching your aura from across the table and tearing into it like tissue paper. A few seconds passed like this before he sighed and put his fork down on the table. “You want to know why you’re here, even though I have already told you that I wanted your company. Do you think something else is going on?” Illumi questioned. You could have sworn he didn't blink, didn’t move an inch as he spoke to you. Every action, every breath that escaped him, was meticulously thought out, you realized, and if there was any chance you wanted to escape him, you knew you couldn’t. Your eyes wandered off of Illumi, meeting the guard behind you for a fleeting moment, then coming back to him and nodding slowly in response to his question. 

“I see, you want the truth. I tried to treat you delicately, but I suppose I will break it to you now.” Illumi leaned back in his seat, taking in your withered-out state, relishing in the fact that you were being torn apart by the torture of being kept in the dark. “I had a hit on your family, and while you were in Yorknew City, I killed them.” He broke this Earth-shattering news to you in the most apathetic tone possible, in a way only he could. “As I do with most of my targets, I observed you and your family for a while, and I found out these things- your favorite foods, your dress size, how you acted. The more I observed you, the more I felt I had to preserve you for myself. So I did.” 

It took a few seconds for the information to hit you, and as it did, you stifled a scream. Tears could not reach your cheeks, nor could any words escape your lips. You were frozen in terror as you looked at Illumi, at the man who took your family away from you. You weren’t just brought into the Zoldyck’s home, you realized; you were snatched by their claws and thrown into the depths of Tartarus, and each and every inhabitant on the mountain greeted you as if you were one of them. You practically are now.

No, you’re not. No way in hell were you going to stay here.

The rage that was dormant in you exploded, and you stood up from your seat, knocking the chair backwards from underneath you. Your nen escaped and surrounded you like flames, becoming more powerful than it ever had before. In that moment, nothing mattered to you but revenge. You wanted to pay for the life Illumi stole from you. But the moment your feet began to move towards him, two of the butlers appeared behind you, grabbing your arms and forcing them behind your back before you could even blink. You attempted to pry yourself out, but their grips were as tough as iron. You looked down, noticing Illumi coming closer to you, and tears finally began to fall from your eyes. You knew your place now; you weren’t strong enough to fight the Zoldycks. All you could do now was crumble in their hands. 

As Illumi reached you, his hand came under your chin, forcing your eyes up to meet his. Your tears continued to fall, so he gently wiped them from your eyes with his free hand, the one on your chin keeping you from moving away. “You have a lot of potential, Y/N. That is why you intrigue me as much as you do. But no matter how strong you become, you cannot defeat me. You should know better than to challenge someone you know is stronger than you.”

“Let me… go,” you choked out between sobs, “I can’t… be here…”

“Oh but Y/N, what will escaping do for you? Where would you go? Your family is dead; you have no one but me now.”

Illumi is right, you have no one. You can’t escape now. You stopped crying, and you reverted to silence once again.

“That’s better,” Illumi responded, noticing that you had subconsciously softened out of defeat. The hand on your chin moved to delicately grab your hand. Before stepping back, he offered you a cold smile. “Come now, I must show you around your new home.”

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

Get Me To Church, I’ve Done So Many Bad Things It Hurts

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

A/N: you guys, idk what this is. I only know it’s not what I initially planned. Title is from Sinéad O’Connor’s song “Take Me To Church”, which hijacked this story’s initial plot. It reminds me of Wilhemina, and it’s a very good song <3

Word count: ~ 5 400

Your brain no longer was a brain but fucking mush. Mush that stunk and made one want to throw up at first sight. You had not been able to get a good night’s sleep since you had been sent to Outpost 3 a few months ago. You were running on a few hours of rest snatched here and there and on the disgusting, weird food cubes. At this point, when someone talked to you, you would gap at them until your brain suddenly gave a start and registered their words. Your body felt twice its weight. It was hard to concentrate, hard to think.

Days went by looking exactly alike. You would get out of bed, meet the others, try to have a talk, listen to the same song over and over again. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Stare at a book maybe, open it, stare at a page, fail to understand a single sentence. You would wait for time to pass. Complain with Coco or Andre or that guy whose name you couldn’t remember even though you had been living together for months now. One day, Coco and you decided to exercise by running up and down a staircase, but you didn’t last more than five minutes before you dropped on the floor, panting. You didn’t try again. You lacked the motivation.

Sit at the table, eat your cube. “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”. Go to bed. You were going crazy. You could no longer tell what was real and what was a figment of your imagination.

In truth, there was one thing at least you knew was real. The butterflies in your stomach every time Venable – freaking Venable, of all people – so much as walked into the room you were in.

It was terrible. Why her, why you, you did not know. The only thing you knew was that you were falling hard for her, for that sadistic, mean, scary woman.

In typical mush-brain fashion, you couldn’t string two sentences together when she would ask you a question and her dark eyes would bore into you. You would laugh stupidly or give one-word answers. You would trip over your own feet when you passed her in a corridor.

So, really, it wasn’t a surprise when you realized that she hated you even more than she seemed to hate the others. For starters, she never looked at you. When she did, her eyes were as cold as the North Pole. Icy winds and all that. And when she talked to you, her voice was always so condescending, so sarcastic, as if she knew you were the most idiotic idiot at the Outpost. She probably wondered every minute of every day why you had been chosen to survive. It was a mystery to you, too.

But then – but this was part of your imagination. It must be. There was no rational explanation. For the wistful look on her face you had caught a glimpse of, once, when you had turned and shot her a glance. She had been staring at you. Or for the faint blush that had risen to her cheeks when you had accidentally – accidentally? – brushed past her, way too close to her, on your hurried way to the bathroom. Or for that one time, that blissful, ethereal time – but that had been a dream, it must have been, you had passed out from exhaustion and dreamed – when she, coming out of her room, and you of yours, had paused with her hand on the doorknob, and raised her head, met your eyes, and smiled. Not her mocking, cruel smile. But a fond, almost shy smile. A genuine smile, reflected in her eyes. This you were sure you had dreamed. Were you?  

You were falling for her. Love, intimacy, would make things more tolerable. You craved a strong, true connection with someone, and part of you was convinced you could have it with her.

In the past few evenings Venable had made a habit of joining you in the music room as you whiled the time away before bed. She wouldn’t say anything, merely sit and read a book. The first time she had done it, you and the others had exchanged half surprised, half worried looks. What was she doing? Studying you? Deciding which one of you she would cook for dinner? You didn’t know. Her presence had made you all uncomfortable at first, but now you were used to it. You ignored her, just as she ignored you.

She always, always sat facing you.

And you couldn’t help but steal glances at her. Marvel at the beauty and neatness of her. Your eyes would travel down her body and the butterflies in your stomach would go wild and your head fill with want. For. Her.

Her eyes never met yours, not even once.  

One evening as you sat brooding and she sat reading facing you, and the others chatted about some boring things, and the music, the music went “Calling occupants of interplanetary, most extraordinary craft”, you abruptly jumped on your feet to stretch your upper body. The sudden movement surprised Venable, who looked up at you. You met her eyes and gave her a goofy smile. She scowled.

“In your mind you have capacities,” you heard yourself sing to the music.

“But do you, Y/N?” Venable sneered.

That shut you up. You straightened up and glared at her. “Do you have, like, a problem with me?” you asked in an annoyed voice.

“Do you mean apart from your obvious lack of brain cells?”

“Why are you always so mean?” you heard yourself whine.

“Oh, boo hoo,” Venable cooed. “Poor you. Look at you, standing among the few who have been allowed to survive the Apocalypse. Do you really think I should feel sorry for you?”

You considered that. “No,” you grumbled.

“No, Ms Venable.”

You didn’t know what came over you then. Probably it was a mix of exhaustion, anger, frustration and want. Your hands clenched into fists. In what was both the bravest and stupidest moment of your life, you retorted, “Bite me.”

Someone in the room gasped, and then chuckled. Venable’s eyes went wide with shock. Heat flooded your cheeks.

You were dead meat, you knew that. So really you couldn’t make things worse by adding: “I’m sorry. I meant, bite me, Ms Venable.”

Impressive. You were a genius. Gosh, you needed sleep.

You couldn’t meet Venable’s eyes. Instead you stared at Andre, who was gawping at you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Coco give you a thumbs-up. You smiled shyly at her.

“Right,” you said. “Um. Goodnight.”

You hurried out of the room before someone could call you back. Your heart was beating too fast in your chest, but you couldn’t really understand why. You needed sleep.

You closed the door of your bedroom behind you and collapsed on your bed.

**

You couldn’t sleep.

It was always the same: you were exhausted all day, but the minute your head touched your pillow, your brain roared back into life. Someone in your head turned the light on. You were wide awake.

You groaned and turned on the bed. You didn’t have the slightest idea what time it was or how long you had lain under the sheet. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been a century. You turned again, forced yourself to close your eyes.

Bite me, Ms Venable. Damn it, you were such a fool when you were exhausted! You had survived the bloody Apocalypse and now you were about to die for something so, so stupid. Venable was probably plotting your death right now. She would order you out of the Outpost and condemn you to a horrible death among the repugnant creatures that haunted the nuclear winter outside. In your current state, you wouldn’t last a day. You’d trip over something and break your neck or get stabbed by the first hungry person you’d meet.

Fear clenched your stomach. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t feel like giving up on life yet. Even if the world as you had known it was gone, even if there was almost no hope of a bright, safe future. God, you wanted to live.

You sprang out of bed before you knew what you were doing and ran to the door. Locked it. Looked around the room for things to build a barricade with. The chair would do, and if you could move that huge chest of drawers –

You heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards you. And something else, unmistakable. The sound of a cane.

Shit. Your whole body froze with fear. Then your hand automatically reached for a decorative statuette close-by, that had sharp angles and that you could use as a weapon if need be. The footsteps grew louder and came to a halt at your door.

You waited, heart hammering in your chest. Venable must have a spare key, of course she must. You stared at the doorknob, expecting it to move, expecting the door to open, on Venable standing tall and threatening and radiating off anger and satisfaction. How so very beautiful she would look.

Nothing happened.

What was she doing? You couldn’t hear anything but the mad pounding of your heart. Had you imagined her footsteps? The sound of her cane? But you had been so sure –

One of your hands came up to press against the door. Fingers splayed out, palm pressing against the cold, hard surface. To try and feel her through the wood.

You waited. Your heartbeat was drumming against the wood. And it was slowing down, and your eyes were fluttering closed, for she was here – just behind the door, and you could almost see her, her eyes on the doorknob, the spare key in her hand, her lips slightly parted. It was as if your soul had connected with hers and now they were softly singing to each other.

There was a sound like a sigh. Before you knew it you had unlocked the door and opened it.

Venable stood in front of you with her left hand in the air, a few inches further to the left than yours had been. She met your eyes in surprise as her fingers curled up. She lowered her hand, and schooled her features.

You decided your safest option was to play it cool.

“I thought I heard a noise,” you said, assuming a casual expression.

“I was on my way to bed,” Venable answered. A pause. “I saw your light was on through the gap under your door.”

She didn’t sound particularly mad or threatening. Relief flooded your chest. Maybe she didn’t mean to kill you, after all. Maybe you’d been over-reacting.

Her eyes fell on the statuette you were still holding.

“What’s this?” she asked very slowly. Her eyes met yours again. They were dark, her eyes. The darkest eyes you had ever seen.

“What’s this?” she repeated, louder. You started.

“Oh, uh.” You raised the statuette to your chest and shrugged. Play it cool. “I don’t know why I’m holding this.” You tried to laugh. It came out nervous and foolish. “Must have been sleepwalking or something.”

Venable’s gaze was boring into you, piercing your skin, piercing your veins, piercing your bones. You felt too hot suddenly. You laughed again. Then it finally dawned on you.

“My light isn’t on,” you said.

You always kept one candle burning when you slept, but its light was very faint. There was no way Venable could have seen it from the lit corridor.

Her face didn’t change. “It’s not?” she said in a toneless voice.

You shook your head. “I’m afraid not.”

She straightened her shoulders, raised her chin. Her grip on her cane tightened just so.

“Were you planning on attacking someone with this?” she asked, nodding at the statuette.

“I’ve no idea what you mean,” you answered, holding her gaze.

“I cannot think of any other use you could have for it.”

“Well, maybe I was.”

“Has someone threatened you?”

You scoffed. Gave her a look as if to say the joke wasn’t good. She narrowed her eyes uncomprehendingly.  

“Um, let’s see.” You folded your arms as you pretended to think. The statuette dug in your chest. “Maybe I’ve gone just a little bit too far with someone who’s quite obsessed with hierarchy.”

A small, incredulous laugh escaped her.

“You thought I was going to –“She didn’t finish her sentence, her laugh lingering on her lips as the incredulity reached her eyes.    

“Well,” you retorted, leaning your hip against the doorframe, “you did have those two Greys shot the other day for making love.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “For breaking one of your rules. So excuse me if I’m not feeling particularly safe right now.”

The smile vanished from her face. She closed her mouth, stared at you. Your eyes shifted to her lips. Back up to her eyes. You licked your lips.

“I wouldn’t have you killed merely for being stupid,” she said after a short moment.

How were her cheekbones so sharp? Her eyes so dark? You swore whomever had made her was the most talented artist and the cruelest asshole in the whole goddamn universe. How many years it must have taken, how much sweat, how many skills, how much patience and love, to make her.

You cleared your throat. What had she just said? Called you stupid. Wouldn’t have you killed. Something like that. You couldn’t remember.

“My light wasn’t on,” you said mechanically, “so why did you stop at my door?”

If the question surprised or unsettled her, she didn’t show it.

“I thought it was on,” she answered without missing a beat. She paused. “You thought I was going to have you killed?”

“Um, maybe.”

Her eyes fell on the statuette again. When they met yours, you swore you saw something like sadness deep into the black. She blinked, and the sadness disappeared.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “You should go to bed.”

You realized you didn’t want her to go. What if you invited her to come in? What if you told her about your insomnia, and asked her to help you while the night away? Merely have a talk with her. Merely sit by her side, and watch her, and share secrets with her. Show her you weren’t as stupid as she must think you were. You could light dozens of candles and watch the light dance on her face. Have her relax, make her laugh. And maybe if things went well, at the break of dawn you could lay your head on her lap, and certainly then sleep would find you.

You assumed a nonchalant expression. “Well then, goodnight to you,” you said with a smile that hurt your mouth.

She nodded, turned and walked off.

You listened to her footsteps fade away. You let out a long, shaky breath, and closed your door.

For a very long time you stayed with your back against the door, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. The sadness you had seen in Venable’s eyes haunted you. You tried to think of something else. What you would do tomorrow. Boring. That summer holiday you had spent in Spain with your best-friend. Venable’s hair in the flickering light of the candles. Venable’s face. Venable’s eyes. How you absolutely adored the fact that she could stand up to anyone. Venable’s eyes. The sadness in her eyes.

You groaned. You had half a mind to bang your head on the door to knock yourself out and finally get some sleep. Perhaps you could go to Venable’s room and apologise. Tell her you hadn’t meant to question her authority. You’d like to see her again.

It was a stupid idea. Lack of sleep made you so, so stupid. She would be angry, would order you out, slam her door in your face, maybe hit you with her cane. You shouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You tip-toed down the corridor till you reached her door. It was slightly ajar, which surprised you. Heart beating fast, you opened it just enough to peek into the room.

Venable was sitting on the floor by the dark fireplace, her head bent, her hands joined on her lap. What was she doing on the floor? Surely the position couldn’t be good for her back. Then you noticed that her lips were moving, forming silent words, as if she were praying. Her eyes were closed.

The flickering light from the candles threw shadows on her face. Patches of black and red and orange vacillating and oscillating. Touching her face, fleeing to the walls. You watched her in silence, at a loss for what to do or what to think. You heard her sniffle, saw her raise a hand to wipe her cheek.

There was something so fragile about the scene in front of you. To see this woman who was always so proud, and so strong, and so dominating, murmuring silent words to herself on the floor in the dead of night. Or maybe those words weren’t for herself. Maybe they were addressed to someone else, whoever would listen, whoever would take the time to stop and lend an ear. Was she asking for strength? For mercy? Salvation? Her back was leaning slightly forward just like the backs of worshippers you had seen in churches.

Her lips stopped moving for a moment. She opened her eyes to stare unseeingly at the wall in front of her. You saw her bite her lower lip, saw her take a shaky breath. The silent murmuring started again.

You scratched your arm nervously. You knew you should leave, and erase from your mind this private moment you had no right to witness. Part of you felt like a thief. But your legs seemed to be frozen. You could not move them.

So you watched her. At one point she coughed softly, and the next two words came out loud enough for you to hear them: “Let me...”

Was she praying? You didn’t think she was a religious person. Why should she be? She had helped bring on the Apocalypse and had not received so much as a word of complaint from God. You squinted at her in the dim light, your body instinctively leaning towards her, your hands coming up to grip at the doorframe. Your heart was pushing against your ribs as if it wished to burst free from your chest and wrap around her.

Venable paused, sighed, went on murmuring. Once again her words reached you. “…soothe and let it save me so she can think it acceptable to love me.”

Your clammy palm slipped on the doorframe, unbalancing you. You gasped in a breath. Venable’s head jerked to the side. Her eyes locked with yours.

You could have screamed. Surprise then anger then fear flashed across Venable’s face as you took a step back, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you tried to find something to say but couldn’t come up with anything. For a moment there was only silence, and you and she holding each other’s gaze.

Venable’s face closed up. She stood up, supporting herself on her cane, so calm, so composed. It was impressive, the tight grip she kept on her emotions. Always so perfectly in control of herself.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a firm voice.  

“I –“you stuttered, “I – I’m sorry, I just – I, uh, saw your light was on.”

That was a risky answer, and you knew it. But today had been crazy, and any minute now Venable would unleash her wrath and it would destroy you. You had nothing left to lose. So you held her gaze, her inscrutable, unreadable gaze, admiring even now the flickers of candlelight that danced across the black.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you heard yourself say, your voice coming from far, far away. “I’ve not been able to sleep for quite a while. So I roam the corridors to try and distract myself, and I saw your light was on.” A pause. “What were you doing?”

Venable’s expression didn’t change. She took her time to answer, and you waited, waited for the inevitable anger, the inevitable punishment. You felt too distanced from yourself to be afraid.

“That is none of your business,” Venable said eventually. She turned away from you. “Go back to your room.”

That brought you back to yourself. Your soul crashed back into your body.

“Is that all?” you blurted out. “Go back to my room? Aren’t you going to, like,…” You didn’t finish your sentence, but she must have understood, because she turned to face you and shot you a somewhat outraged look.

“You seem so very certain I mean to hurt you,” she said sharply.

“Er, well.” You folded your arms on your chest and looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. “In the last few hours I disrespected you and burst into your privacy. And, no offence, but you don’t strike me as a kitten kind of person.”

“Kitten?” she repeated.

“Yeah, you know.” You brought a nervous hand up to scratch your head. “Fluffy and cute, cuddly and helpless.”

She stared at you as if you were stupid. “Kittens scratch you for no reason.”

“Yeah, but...”You shook your head at yourself.”Never mind, don’t mind me. I’m too exhausted to think straight.”

Long seconds passed. None of you moved. You both held your ground, staring at each other. Waiting.

Your mouth opened again. “I don’t know whether I should run away from you or towards you.”  

She didn’t react. Didn’t answer. She kept staring at you.

“I can’t sleep,” you repeated. “May I stay here and sleep with you?”

Her expression did shatter at that. She blinked in surprise, then in consternation.

“Uh, I mean, not like that,” you stammered. “I mean sleep as in actually sleep. Uh, get some shuteye.”

Venable let out another one of her small, incredulous laughs. “No, you may not,” she answered sharply.

“Right, of course. Stupid me.” You tried to laugh, ended up choking on your own spit.”Sorry. Uh, forget about all this.” You quickly turned to go.

“You need to get a grip on yourself,” came Venable’s voice. You stopped.

“Gosh, I know,” you breathed.”I’m sorry.” You waited. No reply came, so you started to walk away.

“I may have a few sleeping pills, if you think they can help,” Venable called after you.

You turned on your heel and rushed back into her room. “Yes, please, I’d be very grateful. Thank you.”

Venable nodded, walked into the ensuite bathroom. You heard the sound of a drawer opening, some fumbling, and then she was back into the room holding a small pill box.

She dropped one pill in your extended hand. “Try this tonight. I can give you more tomorrow if it works.”

“Thank you,” you breathed. Your fingers curled around the pill as her eyes bore into yours. You almost reached out to touch her cheek. Almost.

But then your breath hitched. For that was it, wasn’t it? Her punishment. Her revenge. You glanced down at the pill in your hand. Poison. It had to be.

You glanced back up at her, and your thoughts must have shown on your face, for her eyes momentarily glazed over with the same sadness as before.  

“This is hydroxyzine,” she snapped.

“Right,” you mumbled. “Thanks.”

“Do you think some of my rules are too harsh?” she asked suddenly.

You blinked at her. “Well, I mean…” You paused a second, considering. You chose honesty.” Most of them are useful, I’ll give you that. But, Ms Venable, the copulation rule? People being shot for, what, loving each other? Finding comfort in each other?” You took one step towards her, growing irritated. “Those two Greys didn’t deserve death. They did nothing wrong. And what’s so bad about copulation, anyway? What’s so wrong with affection? Intimacy?”

You paused, waiting for her answer. Her eyes were very big and shining in the candlelight. They were different, now. It was that sadness again. She looked almost sad.

“Tell me, what’s wrong with this?” You reached out and laid the pad of your index on her right wrist. She tensed up, her hand tightening around the knob of her cane. Her eyes grew bigger still.

You swallowed, refusing to lower your gaze, as you slowly ran your finger down her hand, circled one of her knuckles, moved to the next. You could feel her shaking under your touch, her skin soft and hot.  

“This never hurt anyone,” you said softly. Her brow tightened, just so. She made as if to withdraw her hand from your touch. Your finger stuttered, your eyes questioning hers. Well, maybe affection had hurt her. Undoubtedly it had. You could read it in her eyes.  

You removed your hand, but she captured it in hers and brought it up close to her mouth.

“We cannot possibly take the risk of having to deal with a herd of babies, can we, Y/N?” she said very slowly. Her breath grazed your knuckles and sent a shiver down your spine. Her grip on your hand was strong.

“We can’t, Wilhemina,” you heard yourself say.

Wilhemina. How did you remember her Christian name? She had told it to you exactly once, on the day of your arrival at the Outpost. Months ago. And it wasn’t a very common name.

“But then again, Wilhemina,” you went on, “you and I would never have this problem.”

Venable brought your hand up to her mouth, her gaze burning into yours, and sank her teeth into your skin.

“Ow!” you yapped. “What the…”

She tightened her grip on your hand to hold it back. A smirk crept up her lips.

“Bite me,” she said, her mouth hot and damp against your skin. “That’s what you said. So, here.” She did let go of your hand, then. You held it protectively to your chest, smoothing it over your shirt. “Happy to oblige.” She turned away from you.

You watched her in consternation as she bent over her bed, apparently rearranging the pillows. Her teeth had left a row of white marks on your hand. A moment passed, until she straightened up and met your eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” she said, almost teasingly. And with that she sent you off.

**

“You’re still alive,” Coco said in surprise the morning after.

“You’re very observant,” you mumbled, slumping onto the chair next to her. You still felt a bit woolly because of the hydroxyzine. But at least you had slept.

“You’ve been observing our Earth”, sang the female voice from the radio.

“This song will drive me crazy,” you groaned. “Can’t we turn it off?”

“And we’d like to make a contact with you,” the voice retorted.

You straightened your shoulders as Venable walked into the room. Her gaze immediately fell on you. You held it, not sure what to think of the night before, her helping you, her biting you for God’s sake – mechanically you massaged the back of your hand where her teeth had sunk. And those words you had overhead. They had been addressed to someone else, but you couldn’t help but hope she had been talking about you.

You thought you saw something in her eyes, eagerness perhaps, as she walked towards you. She stopped in front of you and tapped her cane on the floor.

“Good-morning,” she said. You gave her a smile in answer, then lowered your eyes to study your nails. You could feel her gaze on your face.

“How did you sleep?” she went on in a casual voice that sounded just a tiny bit strained, as if she were uncomfortable or nervous.

You squinted at her, fighting back an amused smile. “I slept well, thank you.”

You were vaguely aware of the hush that had fallen upon the room. There was more to it, too, some sort of tension, expectant and apprehensive, a holding of one’s breath as one waits for something the nature of which one isn’t really certain of.

“We’ve been observing your Earth, and one night we’ll make a contact with you,” the robotic, distorted alien voice burst out.

“Good,” Venable answered. “I am glad to hear that.”

A pause. The pause stretched.

“Maybe now some of my brain cells will finally kick back into life, “you prompted.

Venable blinked. “We can only hope so,” she answered after a while.

The smile you had been holding back danced across your lips. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Coco shoot you a perplexed look, saw her contort her face as if to ask, “what the hell is happening?”

Venable’s cane tapped on the floor. “Everyone, please,” she called, “I have an announcement to make. Some good news for you all.”

Excited whispers filled the room. You straightened in your seat. Venable waited until she had everyone’s attention, and then spoke with pride in her voice. “To renew with tradition and entertain you, we will now have board games nights. Whist, backgammon, chess.”

Was she… actually trying to be nice? Giving you all something to look forward to? A bit of fun, to help pass the time? You almost gawked at her.

She’s trying, a voice whispered in your head. What was it she had said? Make it acceptable to love her. You were vaguely aware of the tears that sprang to your eyes.

“Excuse me,” Coco blurted out, “I thought you’d said ‘good news’, not ‘you’re now officially living in a shitty Jane Austen novel’.”

Venable glared at her. You caught just a flash of pain in her eyes.  

“I think it’s a good idea,” you retorted before Venable had time to. “It’ll keep our minds distracted.”

“I don’t even know what whist and backgammon are,” said Andre. “And I’ve never played chess.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Venable sneered. “It will be the perfect opportunity to inject some knowledge into your vacuous brain.”

“Not as vacuous as that,” Andre retorted angrily, “seeing as you filled it with my boyfriend’s own brain.”

You had never seen Andre stand up to Venable before. Like the others, he had been too scared of her to dare contradict her. But now his voice was openly belligerent, his eyes shooting daggers at her, and his hands gripped the arms of his chair as if he were contemplating standing up. Something had changed, and it didn’t take you long to realize you were the cause. Or rather, Venable’s behavior to you. You had been insolent to her, and she had not punished you. She had not even verbally abused you.  

“What will it take,” Venable enunciated, “for you to finally understand me when I say that I did not feed you Stu?”

“Then where is he?” Andre growled, jumping to his feet, “And what was in the fucking stew?”

“Alright, okay, calm down,” you spoke, rising too, and holding out a hand in front of Andre. “I’ll teach you chess, okay? I know chess, I can teach you. Just, relax, man. Gosh.”

Andre glared at you. You raised your eyebrows at him. For a minute he stayed still, hands clenched into fists, and then he let out a breath and moved back to his chair.  

Coco threw her hands up in the air. “Board games nights it is,” she said sarcastically.

You turned to Venable. She was studying you, her expression strange, as if she could not quite decide between anger and gratefulness.

“Miss Y/L/N,” she said, her eyes locked with yours, “I do not need your help when it comes to dealing with idiots.”

You took your time to answer, to think of the right words to say. A smile crept up your lips again, and this time you let it.              

And you knew everyone in the room would be able to hear you. But you didn’t care. Blame it on the hydroxyzine. Blame it on the freaking interplanetary and most extraordinary occupants. The world had ended. You were exhausted. And you were falling for her.

When you spoke, your voice was a singsong, as insolent as it had been the evening before. “Why, fuck me, Ms Venable. I know that.”

[utilitycaster]

In a very on-brand move thinking about how much the “haha this group has one brain cell and this character has it” meme annoys me sparked like, between two and seven different rants for me (I edited myself down to four, mostly) so I’ve helpfully numbered them into something that is debatably readable.

The main reason I don’t like it in any media is because usually it’s not as simple as ‘this is the brains of the group’, because people are multidimensional. I also don’t like it in actual play specifically for “stop acting like stats mean absolutely everything” reasons, which is a thing I’ve been on about recently; think “Caleb Widogast (20 INT, 16 WIS) and the Emerald of Death that Absolutely Could Have Been Left Alone”.

It is my belief that people who do not take impulsive and/or risky actions in D&D are bad at playing D&D. There’s a good quote from Travis Willingham about this - that you can’t just play it safe. If you want to be pedantic and optimal about it the smartest thing to do would have probably been to never touch the ship full of corpses and the +1 Spider Crown of Makes Good People Throw Up*. But I think most** people understand that to have a story, that is, to find out, one must first fuck around. When players delicately try to skirt around every possible thing that might deprive them of a single hit point, it is unbelievably frustrating. It is not unintelligent or ‘lacking in brain cells’ to take risks. Dorian and Opal made great choices! They saw that the Nameless ones were going to be a threat that they could not avoid, and took actions to address that! Which brings me to my third point.

I find that fandom often pivots with all the grace of a broken Zamboni driven by an elephant, which is to say they do not react well to changes or new information. When the Nameless Ones show up, and it becomes clear that the plan of quietly running away undetected had failed, a lot of people seem to short circuit (presumably) and perceive whoever drops that first plan - even though we already know it has failed - as being the cause of the new problem. This is wrong; the person who drops the plan is the person who reacts first to a new and changed situation instead of hanging on to plan A when they know it won’t work. This happens a lot; I may be turning over a huge amount of dead discourse about Rumblecusp but it was fascinating to see how many people were frustrated by the inaction against Vokodo but then championed inaction in terms of reacting to Jester being in trouble; it seems many people make a connection between inertia and ‘the brain cell’ even though sticking with a plan you know has failed is not smart. This also, I should note, tracks with neutral good characters often being assigned the brain cell by the fandom, so onto point 4, which is…

It’s easy to appeal to law or chaos - in fact, it’s much easier to appeal to that than to morality (good/neutral/evil). True neutral is also not terribly hard to appeal to in that you either zero in on the character’s personal goals/beliefs and ignore alignment altogether, or you trust the player isn’t a total dickhead and will go along with the party majority. Neutral good and neutral evil are the trickiest alignments to motivate, and since neutral evil is both rare among PCs and especially tricky***, let’s talk neutral good. Neutral good characters want to help but they lack the certainty of a lawful character or the spontaneity of a chaotic one; they typically need to analyze everything to figure out how they can best help since all they really have to go on is ‘am I helping’ and that’s often a complicated question. And it’s not bad to do this! It’s a valuable perspective to have in a party. But it’s not a sign of intelligence so much as a sign of having a specifi philosophy, and while I’m sure there’s someone out there who wants to watch a 7 hour trolley problem debate, I do not, nor do most people, so another character will often take action. This in turn doesn’t mean they’re impulsive, so much as they acknowledge that the trolley waits for no one.

In summary I think a lot of people associate “the brain cell” with extreme caution, but in a world where pausing for six seconds can get you hit by a poisoned dagger (and also resurrection exists), there is a lot of sense in making a quick decision.****

*if you were going to say “um actually this is the circlet of barbed vision” unironically may I gently suggest you learn what jokes are.

**not many, and yet still, far more than the acceptable amount, which is zero.

***this is a whole new too-long post but in short while neutral good usually wants to actively help, neutral evil often just doesn’t care if they do harm, but doesn’t actively seek it. Many neutral evil characters (eg: pre-Mighty Nein Essek) have relatively morally neutral goals; the evil comes from them being willing to hurt others in their pursuit of those motivations. They do not necessarily see doing evil as its own goal or reward the way a neutral good character may feel about doing good.

****for more on this see every time I have ever complained about how people are all about more thorough examinations of worldbuilding when it comes to boring shit like fabric arts but refuse to apply it to like, the sociocultural implications of a world with complete gender and sexuality equality and wildly different lifespans among different peoples and the presence of magic and gods.

[xreaderbooks]

Letting go

Pair: Luke Patterson x Ghost! reader, Platonic! Willie x reader, Platonic! Alex x reader

Warnings: Death and mentions of suicide, drug abuse, kinda angsty 

Word Count: 2k

For ages 18+

A/N: This is overall pretty depressing and it's not exactly a happy ending, I wrote this based off the song Out of love by Alessia Cara. Its not my best work but either way I hope you enjoy. 

Disclaimer: Gifs are not mine

Masterlist

You knew this day would come. You don't know how many times you've called yourself stupid and cursed yourself. He liked her possibly even loved her by now. You were a fool for thinking that just because you found each other in this new version of life, that he could love you the same as he did before. Just because you were together before you died doesn't mean that you could have a life together after death. No matter how much you were still deeply enamored with him. Him and his stupid bright smile, his laugh that was contagious, his chocolate hair that you loved to run your hands through in the middle of cuddling. The calming feeling it gave you both, would it still have that same affect if you tried it now? Let's not mention his eyes. Oh, his eyes. The big green eyes that made him look like a puppy, so pure and innocent, it also held pain that you both would share at times. You both coming from families who had expectations. Expectations that neither of you could hold up. His eyes gave you hope, and butterflies and love.

They still did, he still did. He still had his optimism; although you could tell it was forced. it was the same thing he always tried to do. He was always the one to brighten peoples day and be the strong optimistic one when the others (and even himself) weren't. Either way he was still that same character he always was. And you were still deeply, unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him. You think you always would be.

Despite the new changes of your relationship. Or change. That change being Julie Molina. You saw the way that Luke had looked at her, praised her and her voice. You couldn't hate her for it. It would've been easier to hate her if she was a bitch, you couldn't lie, however she wasn't. She was loyal, caring and determined. She was strong and beautiful and exactly the type of person Luke needed. You were friends with Julie and you cared for her. So, no, you couldn't hate her. It wasn't her fault you changed and was no longer what he wanted. She was not responsible for your insecurities or feelings that you still held for Luke or the feelings that he held for her.

You decided you would let him go. You would let him go because your time with him was over. You were no longer what he needed nor what he wanted and that was okay because you would let him go.

You died a couple of months after the guys did. It was a drug overdose. After the Luke, Alex and Reggie's passing, you got into some pretty bad habits. Such as partying, alcoholism and your cause of death; drugs. It was not great.

The week of your death was rough. You were cleaning your closet after weeks of not doing so, you were gonna make a change, you would do better. That was until you found multiple shirts of Lukes laying about your closet, they were hidden underneath all of your other clothes that were piled up in there. In one particular jacket you found a note in the pocket. 'Can't wait for you to hear the surprise I have for you after the show beautiful ;)' After reading the barely legible note , you broke. You had suspicions he was writing a song about you, he was hinting at it before... and now this confirmed it. You would've gone looking for his notebook if it wasn't for Bobby who when you told him, brushed you off and took you out to distract you. That was when you were introduced to some guy who Bobby told you; had 'the good stuff'. You shrugged it off and took whatever he gave you. Turns out you took too much in so little time and you were dead.

After accepting the fact that you were dead, you wandered around 'life' hoping you'd find your lover and best friends. That day didn't come and you found yourself befriending another ghost named Willie. He was kind enough to show you the perks of being, well, dead. He even tried to introduce you to Caleb and that whole world but you decided you were out before you were even in. You had felt enough bad vibes from Caleb to know not to get involved with him. If only you had those survival instincts when you were alive.

Then it was 25 years of being a ghost and Willie had came to hang out with you in your favorite spot that you now called your home, a beach house that some rich family used as their Summer home.

"Hey Y/N, made a new friend today." He said skating into the house. You walked out of one of the rooms while reading a book, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "Oh really? that's cool."

"Yeah his names Alex, said he was in a band." You froze and looked up at him as he skated and transported on top of the kitchen counter. 'No,' you thought. 'It couldn't be your Alex, could it?' There was no way, not after all these years, it doesn't make sense. There were also a million different guys named Alex in the world. 'But he said he was in a band.' Your mind raced through the different scenarios. If you were thinking logically it could be a coincidence and it'd be stupid to think there wouldn't be any other guys out there who was dead, in a band, and named Alex. When you put it like that...

"How'd he look like?" Willie looked confused when you asked but answered. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, kinda cute but I call dibs."

Your heart was pounding, if Alex was here that could mean that Luke might be with him. You managed to roll your eyes at his reclamation. "Yeah you can have him, but um, you think I can go with you next time you meet with him?"

He looked at you shocked, "Uh sure?" He came up to you holding a hand to your forehead as if checking your temperature. "Are you okay? Is the loneliness getting to you?" You pushed his hand away.

"I'm fine dummy."

He laughed. "I'm just saying you never wanna meet any of my friends."

"Yeah, cause you have so many." You said sarcastically and plopped down on the couch. Willie, as extra as he is, jumped over it to sit next to you.

"Not true I have-"

"Ghost club doesn't count, they're creepy and enslaved to Caleb." You opened your book and pretended to read while you thought of what you would do if it really was your Alex.

"Whatever, what made you all of a sudden decide to be social?"

You closed the book and crossed your legs. You decided to be honest with him. You already told him of how you died, how you had a boyfriend who also died along with your best friends. He tried to help you find them until you gave up. You didn't however go into detail about how they died or what they did. That just brought on too many memories. But now you decided it was time. So you told him everything.

~~~

You were anxious as you waited for Willie and Alex at a place where Willie likes to skate at. If it was your best friend Alex you wanted to talk to him in a private place not surrounded by people. Even though you were all ghosts and nobody could see you, it felt more special and less awkward with people potentially walking through you. But if it wasn't your Alex then you could just leave and let Willie enjoy his 'date' with the guy.

When they showed up you almost screamed. You were in shock, there he was, one of your best friends. Probably the one with the most brain cells. "Alex?" Although you already knew you called his name to catch his attention.

"Y/N?" He ran up to you and hugged you.

"Alex," You patted his back "can't- breath."

He let you go putting his hands on your shoulders and pushed you to arm length as he observed you, taking in your appearance. "Wait..." You saw his face fall from the wide smile to a solemn expression. "Oh Y/N/N."

"Yeah..." You rubbed your arms.

"How?" He asked. "You look just the same as you did back then."

You chuckled. "Well so do you."

"But wouldn't that mean that you-'

"Died around the same time you guys did? Yup."

"Again, how?" He pushed. "You didn't, y'know ki-"

"God, Alex no I didn't kill myself." You smacked his arms away and paced around. "It's a long story, one that I'd don't wanna tell three different times. Are Reggie and Luke with you?" You asked hopefully. And he shook his head. You sighed in relief. "Where are they?"

"C'mon I'll take you to them."

And he did.

When you showed up to Julies garage and saw Luke for the first time he stood still, staring in disbelief. Reggie was the first one to come up to you throwing his arms around you and jumping excitedly. Once you managed to get Reggie off you, you went up to Luke "Hey baby." Tears were forming in your eyes. He pulled you into your third hug today, then pulling back, kissing you quickly and pulling you in again.

~~~

The bliss of being reunited only lasted so long before the band got caught up in performing in their new band Julie and the phantoms. You were glad that they were happy and that they had something that motivated them. And that all this time they were together. They even made friends, with a lifer, something you couldn't wrap your head around but you were happy for them. For a time you were happy with them. You were back with you best friends and you made new ones. You and Luke had a bit of a complicated relationship, you acted like you had always acted, of course things were different but you still talked like a couple. You acted like couple. Kisses were another story, it wasn't casual anymore it was when it was needed. It wasn't like before where if you would go somewhere or show up, you would give Luke a quick kiss goodbye or hello. Now it was more in the moment when you guys cuddled and you would look at each other and remember the memories of the past; of when you were alive and planning a life together. Your relationship wasn't what it was before but you would take it. After years of being alone -- with the exception of willie-- you would take those moments that you didn't feel were given 100% fueled with romantic and passionate love but with something different.

That was until the whole situation with Caleb happened and Luke and Julie hugged. They touched, how that happened you didn't know. What you did know is they were connected and they had chemistry. It was a hug, you internally rolled your eyes at your childishness. Technically you would've been an adult by now. Why were you worrying about your boyfriend hugging his friend after a situation where you all thought you'd be separated forever.

Maybe it was because you knew it meant more. The way they were holding each other wasn't how he held you the first time you saw each other again. You tried to brush it off, blaming it on you being insecure, it meant nothing.

Weeks had passed and nothing had changed besides the obvious tension and chemistry that Julie and Luke had. That was when you made the choice to let him go. You had nothing to offer him. If you were to get into technicalities Luke couldn't offer Julie anything, he was dead and she was still living. However they would have some time together and they had the band!

You did what you thought was best and you left a note on Julies piano along with with the note you found in Luke's pocket before you died. You always carried it around but there was no point in holding on to something that wasn't gonna be yours anymore. You would be in your beach house, where if they wanted to find you they could. For now you would let him go.

[berrymeter]

Now I'm curious about this bedman 👀 also feel free take to ur time answering my (many) questions 💕💕💕💕

BED.MAN. lies down (like him). ok let me grab a picture of this freak

first thank u for asking about the simplest thing in there LMAOOO ... so... Him. & his fucking downvote on his forehead. lmao. i'm laughing so i don't start crying i love this fucking guy

he & his sister were both born with a condition that is. pretty funny in theory but in practice it's kinda awful actually. the condition is such that they have wayyy too high human intellect to the point their bodies' cells are literally unable to keep up with their brains if they wake up, & would die in a matter of seconds if they did wake. his sister ended up like, kinda Going To The Backyard (source code of the universe i mentioned) & he's been motivated to bring her back ever since. he can affect the world around him through his bed which is his weapon, & the world of dreams, which is where he essentially lives & where he communicates with others from. he can also teleport ppl but don't worry about it

his personality is that essentially he's a redditor i fucking GUESS... "you have to have a high iq to understand rick & morty" type of guy except rick & morty is sooo far beneath him. he's a hitman & he's really good at it too bc he learns his opponents' weaknesses & breaks them down physically & mentally by listing their failings & shit lmao, except he also memorises the names & identities of every single person he kills so he can bring them back to life in the ideal world he's aiming to create. (this makes me fucking sick btw the whole 'oh haha this guy sucks' & then he actually wants to bring them back to life? i'm going to kms!!!) he also Does kill ram.lethal's puppy to teach her the importance of life/how to feel emotions (which is grand coming from him) but like he brings it back or smth so like it's whatever. he was supposed to kill ram.lethal but refused which thanks dude. he has never shown attraction to anybody & even his magnum wedding quotes (attack that makes you gay/straight for el.phelt) are like... "leave me alone wtf!!!" so ? asexuality win!

so anyway he fucking dies bc he gets taken on by ve.nom & ro.bo-ky (again feel free to ask abt them) & is forced to wake up to use his full abilities. except well. *pained smile* after they defeat him ar.iels shows up & mocks him etc etc & he's so fucking pissed & resentful & probably feeling like an idiot & also remorseful that he tries to kill her. and fails. and he turns into stone. and then into dust. now his consciousness remains in his bed apparently. & his sister's back! & she wants revenge! & she's friends with ba.iken who is so cool! but be.dman is fucking dead. & like i get why ve.nom & ro.bo-ky attacked him he Was a threat but godddd ... sigh;.. i care about him a lot i just need a moment look at him while i recover from shitty scrunkly's fucking dead disease

[queerofdenial]

hacks for the fandom ask thingy!!

ayy you and @trying-to-get-somewhere-real both shared the brain cell on this one so here goes with some (potentially hot) takes!

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

if it's not clear by the profile pic, ava damn daniels. we're incredibly similar people at times and she's the kind of queer disaster representation i've been missing all my life. scarily relatable, unnervingly attractive, and overall attainable loml.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

if i wasn't committed to choosing different characters for each of these, it would also be ava, but because i am, it's gotta be deb. mainly bc even when she's scary she looks scarier than she is, and gives such like, loyal, protective, caring vibes? (for proof of cuteness aggression, see new eyes at 26:50)

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

josefina!! she's so dry and witty and seems to be very close to deb and i want to know more about how long she's been running the house and her opinionated gay niece.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

was gonna go for cute casino waitress but it's probably gonna be ruby tbh. she seems like a really cool person! it's clear ava likes her a ton and as much as they didn't work, she seems to get ava pretty well. i really hope she's in more of season 2 so we can flesh out more of what went on there and get more color about Ava's LA life. also lorenza izzo is beautiful and she and hannah look very good together and i personally would love to see more of ava kissing women

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

honestly marty. the side of deborah he brings out is fascinating and kind of neat. he feels very much like deborah's "devil you know", and regardless of how much i like him as a human being, he's an interesting, well written character with complex motivations and is clearly at least half as endeared by deborah as the rest of us are. it's obvious he's in love with her and i want to know why when he could've had deborah for the past twenty-plus years, he's had a revolving door of twenty-somethings that haven't come close to challenging him the way she does. it's clearly a complicated and mutual denial but sometimes i want to bop him over the head with a rubber mallet and just give his dumb, rich, money laundering butt a stern talking to.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

a solid tie between lemony snicket and the hotel concierge who refuses to give ava her well-deserved toothpaste. they seem like they would scream in an amusing way.

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

like ava, i would bring frank back from the dead just to kill that guy again. and/or unnamed manipulative therapist. and/or that one pope.

[grim-echoes]

Queen Bee—An In-Depth (Sorta) Analysis

Here's my short (lol) analysis of Queen Bee as promised, I touch on every aspect of her design and symbolism that comes to mind as well as the corrupted hive. The relevant text is under the cut for the sake of orderliness; I also go into heavy spoilers so I would not recommend reading if you’ve yet to finish the game.

I think the first and most important thing to point out about Queen Bee and the hive is how the use of bees as a whole ties into the conceit of the game—that being Jimmy's struggle with cancer—and clues you in about his situation very early on. Andrew makes a point about bees disappearing meaning that the ecosystem around them is collapsing, and this is a very clear metaphor for the early warning signs of cancer; the "ecosystem" in this context being Jimmy's own body and by extension, his dream. What's particularly clever about this is that this isn't the first time the Pulsating Mass is hinted at (it's right there in the doghouse at the beginning of the game where Jimmy thinks he's safest), but it is the moment where his remission becomes a horrifying possibility that nobody can ignore. It's a completely unexpected tonal shift that comes as a shock both to the player and to Jimmy's family, and I don't think it's a coincidence that the very next area you're taken to when you arrive home is how Jimmy envisions a hospital to be like—a big spaceship that abducts him, complete with a meeting not just with his late grandma, but with the Pulsating Mass itself in its first true physical body since it emerged at the hive.

Getting back on track, when you come back to the hive after defeating the goon squad at the Wilted Lands, the very first thing that stands out is not just that everyone has disappeared, but that there's a horrid streak of green ooze leading from the queen's throne farther into the hive, which is a very important recurring design element that I'll get into in just a moment. If you go to the right of the throne you can pick up the honey pot from a buddy bee that gives you some very interesting text when you interact with him; "The buddy bee's breath rattles from a hole in its throat."

There's a lot of hanging and asphyxiation imagery throughout the game—a lot a lot. It's not used for shock value; it conveys an aspect of Jimmy's suffering that's very particular to the type of cancer he has. Based on the information the game presents I believe it started in his throat/mouth before it eventually infiltrated his brain, thus why the buddy bee's interaction is such and why restricted breathing features so heavily in the game's symbolism.

Farther into the hive you'll meet yet more buddy bees, as well as drones and worker bees and static encounters with royal guards. Buddy bees and drones in particular have some very interesting attacks in their arsenal that tie into the overarching theme of the hive:

⦁ Buddy bees will occasionally cannibalize their friends, restoring their health and giving themselves the motivated status. Cancer cells work in the same way—they cannibalize the regular cells around them in order to spread.

⦁ Drones can hock up something gross, inflicting the sick status on one party member. Jimmy feels sick often as a result of his condition and as an unfortunate side effect of his treatment.

⦁ One royal guard will be asleep at the beginning of the battle, and another will be frazzled and periodically attack itself in confusion. Sleep as a status is one of the most important thematically because it's what Jimmy spends most of his time doing. He's constantly tired, constantly exhausted, and even when he's sleeping he's not getting any rest. It's also one of his biggest fears; when he truly falls asleep, he stops dreaming. When he stops dreaming, he lets his illness win. When he lets his illness win, his whole world collapses.

The incredible spritework also conveys what's happening as you explore the area. The hive is strewn with dead bees, some torn limb from limb, some packed tightly into throbbing cocoons awaiting to be rebirthed into...something, and some that are so heavily mutated beyond their form that they're barely recognizable. A few animated sprites showcase cocoons that twitch and pulsate eerily, and fleshy masses with too many eyes that each blink in turn. The majority of these sprites are covered with the same sickly green goo that you were met with upon re-entering the hive which is a good segue into the significance of green within the game.

Green is associated with radioactivity; cancer treatment generally involves chemotherapy or radiation therapy to eliminate cancer cells while preserving as many of the surrounding good cells as possible. It comes in numerous forms, but Jimmy ingests his home treatment in the form of pills (mentioned by a memory of Helga on your first trip to Central hub). Many areas and enemies have elements of green on them in the form of viscous goo and the majority of them are explicitly tied to the Pulsating Mass—the hive, Queen Bee, Mutt, Jonathon when encountered as a boss, space, and the corrupted Central Hub to name a few examples. Not all enemies that use green liquid as an element of their design are tied explicitly to the Pulsating Mass, but the majority of them are. There's also another recurring visual design that is used alongside the color green, and that is...funnily enough, fleshy masses. from here, we can finally discuss the Queen Bee herself.

When you first meet "her" deep inside the hive, "she" speaks to you from within a throbbing, sickly green cocoon. "She" talks about it being dark, lonely, cold, wet; "she" hurts. Her dialogue afterwards reads as follows:

"I've dreamed here, Jimmy. There's not much else to do. In my dreams, there's a big yellow field of sunflowers. There were golden lakes of honey.

You were there, too, Jimmy. You're always there, Jimmy, in every dream, in every stray thought, like a fog of pesticides, burning up everything.

I hate you, Jimmy. I hate every drop of rotten blood inside your carcass. I hate every mark and mole creeping up your back.

I hate how you pretend to be a hero when you're really just weak, weak, weak. I used to be weak, too, so weak I had to rely on you. How pathetic.

Things have changed, now, Jimmy. I'm wearing new skin now, Jimmy. The metamorphosis is almost complete. Would you like to see, Jimmy?"

What's especially interesting about what the "Queen" has to say is that it can be interpreted as the Pulsating Mass speaking to Jimmy himself and ruminating on the treatment that had supposedly killed it the first time. It was weaker back then. Smaller. Conspicuous. This time, however, is different. It's back, stronger than ever, and in a new form. There's also some curious lines in there that allude to Jimmy himself, almost twisting what he's feeling into a different perspective, most notably "I've dreamed here, Jimmy. There's not much else to do," and "You're always there, Jimmy, in every dream, in every stray thought, like a fog of pesticides, burning up everything." Is dreaming not the exact thing Jimmy is doing right now? What else does he have to do while he lays in a cold, itchy hospital bed, waiting for something good to happen? Is his cancer not constantly there with him whenever he closes his eyes, taking away every bit of safety he has, destroying everything he loves?

After the above dialogue concludes the first incarnation of the Pulsating Mass will emerge from the cocoon as a pink, skinless humanoid creature, the body of its host tattered and mangled and horrifically mutated underneath it. It's devoured the Queen's body and used it to become stronger, so strong it no longer has a use for its host—and its host, in turn, has grown too weak to sustain itself any longer. The Queen Bee is, in essence, the manifestation of Jimmy's cancer returning. There's also an extra bit of horror to her design and the room she's encountered in on a second playthrough: as green is representative of radiation and Jimmy's chemotherapy, there's the strong implication that, despite the Queen Bee being surrounded by it, it's not working anymore. Despite everything, Jimmy's cancer has returned and is stronger than anyone could ever have guessed.

The mechanics of the fight carry this symbolism: Queen Bee will periodically summon invincible pupae that eventually hatch into corrupted hive workers. They will grow stronger with each summoning cycle—first spawning drones, then buddy bees, then workers, and then royal guards. Essentially, the longer you leave the Queen Bee alive, the harder the fight gets. The longer it takes you to recognize the early signs of cancer and act on it, the harder it is to treat it, if it is treatable at all when you catch it.

After the fight concludes, "she" will have the following to say:

"Jimmy...Jimmy, where did you go? I can't see well, Jimmy. I can't hear well, Jimmy. I can taste blood, Jimmy.

It's dark and I'm alone. It's dark and I'm alone. It's dark and I'm alone. It's dark and...I'm...alone..."

The tone here is consistent with "her" previous dialogue, but what's being conveyed feels as though this is another twisting of Jimmy's perspective through the words of the Mass. "It's dark and I'm alone" in particular conjures images in your head of a certain scene that can be triggered in the Central Hub pre-corruption of Jimmy opening his eyes for the first time for only a moment to see nothing around him but darkness. The one time he gathers the strength to rouse himself from his slumber, and there's nobody there for him. This is, of course, one of many ways this dialogue can be interpreted—there's also the idea that this is the Queen Bee herself attempting to talk to you, and there's also the possibility that the Mass is simply concluding its earlier ruminations.

To cap everything off, there's a distinct parallel between the dynamics of a bee colony and a family unit as presented here. When the Queen succumbs to the Mass the entire colony falls into disarray. The only thing that comforts her is the screams of her children. She can't see, she can't hear, and it's dark. There's no one there to help her. The other bees in the colony cannibalize eachother, completely lost in their purpose now that the most significant figure in their lives is no more. The Pulsating Mass affects them just as much as it affects their Queen.

It all hits a little too close to home.