#or the demon that's been haunting you for like 20 years now

[toskarin]

Kate Lesing - Sound of My Dream [Original Vocal Sample] (140bpm)

[tteokdoroki]

ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.

୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

what does it mean to die?

by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die? 

death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness? 

life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way? 

these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere. 

the disappearances, the murders, the deaths. 

it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that. 

and as of yesterday, mina ashidou. 

she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow. 

she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments. 

everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind. 

the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.

he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on. 

to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it. 

you’re not the same as you were before. 

he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones. 

that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading. 

whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death. 

eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.

in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—

shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer. 

you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….

“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles. 

peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive. 

“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon. 

as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you. 

he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity. 

poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run. 

the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.

“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed.  “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.” 

this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.” 

“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.” 

“w-will you kill me?”

“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down. 

a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him. 

straight to the hilt. 

your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound. 

he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on  bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls.  it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him. 

kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.  

“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”

leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat. 

his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart. 

you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”

slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all. 

and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours. 

“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.” 

“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content. 

as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft.  you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art.   you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey. 

there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom. 

even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips. 

having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.” 

“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.  

his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him. 

“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”

he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.  

while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding  against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”

it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.

the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with  the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.

his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls. 

you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers. 

where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too. 

“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“ 

you truly are the fucking devil. 

though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.

“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.” 

cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him. 

the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“ 

“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou  grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”

the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the  redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls. 

equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts  you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top. 

“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter. 

but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”

you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?” 

“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”

it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right. 

if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?

“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”

gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet. 

“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.” 

“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…” 

even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”

all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.

the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers. 

but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you. 

he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back. 

he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided. 

“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“ 

with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?” 

of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything. 

and now, neither was kirishima. 

with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay. 

a life for a life. a death for the same price.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[bravo4iscool]

Levi Baby🖤

The way I adore you for pairing Simon with a Chubby girl. I bring a thot to you if you're interested:

Bodyguard!Simon Ghost Riley x chubby f!reader

- He's newly retired , gets asked for a favor from Price for a friend's kid

- Said kid is a mid 20's thicc woman who is all business since she's a lawyer in Human Rights and involved with the UN.

- He thinks she's going to be a snob based off looks bc girl loves to dress and she does it well, she observes Simon as he is. Brooding, Haunted and Self Assureed with a drizzle of dark humor but loyal.

- They get off on the wrong foot [Simon was being an irrational ass forgetting his manners and respect], reader isn't scared of him and doesn't take lightly to being disrespect3d for no apparent reason.

- They're holed up living together under the radar since the thr3at to reader was pretty big seeing it was world leaders

- They're going to have to learn to live with each other, where Simon barks orders - reader is anamused and calmly condescends. He can't even get annoyed bc she's antisocial and a houseplant but he's trying

- doesn't help that he's so.so attracted to her.

*make this as suggestive as you want (give ghost heart attacks with her choice of home clothes please. We know he's touch straved, emotionally constipated and needed a therap session.

Make her stress him out by confronting all of that in her short fiery demon way please.

I hope your new year is sweet Love💋

oh lord. oH LORD. how can you write this and not think about me fainting😭 THIS IS- URGH- AMAZING AHHHQGACQGQVQZQZAVQ!!!!

i hope i can do this justice😭 normally i try to imitate simon’s accent but bro… i was just too tired to do it now, so i hope you can forgive me for that🥲

KEEP HITING ME WITH STUFF LIKE THIS OH MY GOD😩

not really happy but i tried my best :) also not proof-read!

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

“There’s no but’s!” Simon argues while almost dragging you—his protégée—along the hallway inside the safe house. “You’re in danger and it’s my job to protect you!”

“I’ve been perfectly fine on my own before,” you argue, trying your best to wriggle away from his grip. You hated it when he manhandled like that.

He turns around, his eyes fiercely staring down at you and you feel like they’re piercing through your soul. “Have you ever had the Taliban threaten you, huh? Or fucking ISIS? I don’t think so; so stop whining and follow me!”

You want to argue with him, tell him he’s not allowed to talk to you that way but damn, you knew he was right. Ever since you started working for the UN you’ve been threatened—you were getting used to it—but only by small groups not someone like the Taliban.

“We’re gonna stay here until the threat is eliminated for not serious anymore.” His statement leaves little room to argue but you’re itching to say something anyway. It’s wasn’t your nature to just shut up. You were a lawyer, you were used to arguing.

You grimace as you force yourself to accept your fate. You didn’t want to but in the end you knew Simon was right. So, you follow him, an annoyed look on your face. You hated it when he was right.

“It’s only temporary,” he grumbles as he kicks a door open and pushes you inside. “It’s not like I want it, okay?”

You only roll your eyes, throwing a halfhearted ‘whatever’ at him and inspecting the room he hauled you into. “This is where I’m gonna stay?” you ask him, a slight hint of defeat in your voice.

“Pretty much, yes. I’ll be on the other side of the hallway,” he explains, leaning against the door frame. “In case anything happened, of course,” he immediately adds; just so you don’t get a…wrong picture of this whole thing here.

“We got wifi here?” is you next questions when you turn to look at him, your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“No wifi. No contact to the outer world,” is his answer and you feel your blood start to boil.

“You have to be kidding me! How am I supposed to work then?” You throw your hands in the air, letting out an angry huff. “You can’t just cut me off civilisation!”

He only shrugs. “I can and I will. Work can wait, alright? Your life is more important now.” Again his voice leaves no room to argue but this time you won’t take it. You put your hands on your hips, looking up at him.

“You think that’s how it works? Then, please Lieutenant Riley,” you spit out his rank “fly over to the dozens of war criminals and tell them to stop too! Oh wait-“ you act shocked. “That’s not how it fucking works! You can’t expect me to sit still and look pretty while the world drowns in injustice!”

“Would make things a lot easier tho,” he mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the door frame. “Just…do something that doesn’t require wifi or anything like that, alright?” Before you can even think of an answer he leaves, shutting the door behind him. Why the hell was he treating like some little child?

~

“How old is she?” Simon wants to know as he hands his old Captain the picture of you back. He’s sat on a chair, his legs spread, one arm resting on the back rest.

“Mid 20s,” Price answers, placing his folded hands onto the table. “She needs security and her father’s not really…trusting the usual companies; and since you’re nearly retired I thought you could use the job.” Simon holds Price’s gaze and nods along. “He trusts me, therefore he trusts you. She’s a lawyer, heavily associated and involved with the UN and human rights.”

“What are the details?” Simon slightly tilts his head, curiously raising his eyebrows.”

“24/7 protection. The full package. You’ve done it before,” Price explains and Simon once again nods along. “Before you take the job tho-“ he pauses. “She’s, well… she’s a lawyer Simon. You need to know what you get into.” The Captains gaze hardens, his back straightening. “She won’t like that she’s on protection detail, therefore she’ll be treating you like that.”

Simon only smirks, flipping his well kept coin between his fingers. “There’s nothing I can’t handle John. I’ve met people like that before and I was perfectly fine.”

Now Price was the one smirking while shaking his head. “I know and I don’t question your abilities but she’s a civilian—the one you’re protecting. You can’t handle this the way you’ve handled other subjects before.”

“I know what I’m getting into,” Simon assures in a calm tone definitely not knowing what he was getting himself into.

~

“Fucking hell,” Simon mutters when he first sees you. You’re walking straight to you office—the one he was sitting in—involved in a heated talk with that seemed like your secretary.

He’s able to make out single words but well, his hearing wasn’t the best anymore after nearly 20 years of military service. And now he thinks he probably should’ve stayed in the field.

The way you’re waking and talking and dressing just screams ‘snob’ at him. He slightly lowers his head to gaze at you, once again playing with his coin. Maybe he should’ve declined the offer and taken on the underground wrestling instead. Would’ve been more fun for sure.

As soon as you spot your guest you send your secretary away, bracing yourself for the following conversation. You weren’t a fan of getting security and you definitely weren’t a fan of the fact that it was a friend of your father’s friend and he—apparently—was everything but easy.

“Lieutenant Riley,” you greet him, extending your hand to him. When he stands up to his full height you slightly crane your neck; the professional smile still on your face.

“Ma’am,” he greets in a gruff voice, the skin of his hand raw and calloused as he return the handshake. “Pleased to meet you.” He isn’t. He just wants to leave but he brought this on himself so he needs to finish it now. ‘One year’, he told himself. ‘Then I can quit.’

“I can only return the pleasure,” you smile, clearing your throat. “Would you mind sitting down at my desk?” You ask, pointing towards said desk. “I think it’s easier to discuss business over there.”

Simon agrees, towering over you as he makes his way over to one of the chairs in front of the desk. You take place behind it, carefully straightening your blouse. He needs to warn himself not to stare. Fuck, why were you so pretty? A pretty little snob…

~

“This has to be taken seriously!” Simon raises his voice at you, successfully blocking the door of your office.

“This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you argue with him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “So please, Simon, let me get out of my office and back to work.”

He huffs, “Not a change. You’ll be staying here until the threat is cleared.” He glances over his shoulder, loving and hating the fact that you had a glass office. “Are these bullet prove?” he asks, looking at you again.

You sigh, “No.”

“We’ll have that changed,” he immediately answers and you start to shake your head.

“We’ll have nothing changed! You weren’t hired to renovate my office!” You walk towards him. “Now, Mr. Riley, please step aside so I can continue working.”

“Not happening.” He straightens up to his full height, expecting you to back off but you do the exact opposite. You swat your finger at him, looking up.

“I don’t care what you think, you will stay here; if you want it or not.” His voice is stern and stoic and you need to do your best to not full on scream at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” you hiss, your index finger jabbing his chest. “I can make my own decisions, I’m a responsible adult. So don’t you dare talk down to me that way!”

When Simon doesn’t make a move you let out an angry huff and shake your head. Then you turn away and stalk towards your desk. “Fucking military man,” you curse under your breath, ignoring the way he stared you down.

~

You stare at your open suitcase, debating what to wear. On the one hand, you kinda were on your own, on the other hand, Simon was with you.

You were comfortable in your body—no question—you actually kinda liked the extra cushions but sometimes you felt like Simon was staring at you. Like he wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you and that made you…feel something. Something you were afraid of.

“Ah fuck it,” you say under your breath, fishing out some shorts and a shirt. You could care less about what Simon thinks. You both are only work related. Nothing else.

You tap down the stairs, walking straight into the kitchen. “You want something to eat?” You ask Simon, glancing at him when you hear him enter.

“You willing to make some?” he jokes, expecting you to say ‘no’ but when you say ‘yes’ his eyes widen and he pauses for a second. When you notice it you let out a small chuckle, opening the fridge and multiple cabinets to see what you could make.

“Any friends that’ll miss you?” he asks once you place a plate in front of him, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You shake your head, “Nope. Not really.” You sit down opposite of him, grabbing your fork. “Too busy to have friends.”

He tilts his head, blindly picking up the food either his fork. “No boyfriend?” He knows you don’t have one. You have no dates, no flings, nothing; but he wants to hear it from you. Maybe then his fantasies wouldn’t be so forbidden…

“Please,” you laugh. “We’d be divorced before we even married.” You take a sip of water and look at him. “I don’t have time for relationships and that kind of stuff. I have a target to pursue. Ain’t no time for distraction.”

He only nods in an understanding manner, playing with his beer bottle. “And you?” you ask. “You got someone?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’ve got you to deal with. That’s enough.” He smirks when he sees your facial expression, letting out a low chuckle. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for,” he continues joking. “But no. I don’t have anyone. Never really had.”

“Oh…” you say in an almost pitiful tone and he hates it. It not that he couldn’t get someone. He just didn’t want to. That’s a big difference. “Well not really different for me,” you then snort, slightly grimacing. You had this one guy ask you out for prom but that turned out to be a bet rather fast and after than you decided to not to date in school or university anymore.

Yeah sure, you were more chubby than other girls but that doesn’t mean that you’re not lovable, right? By now you were comfortable in your body—you were in your mid 20’s—but sometimes you felt yourself slipping back into the insecure girl you once were. The one who thought that no man would ever lay his eyes on her in a lustful or loving manner.

Simon’s itching to say something; to ask why you don’t have anyone… You’re perfect. You’re nice—even if he hated to admit it. You’re pretty, you’re so fucking soft… Did the men around you not see that?

“Simon?” You wave your hand around in front of his face, chuckling when he slightly flinches, his pupils blow. “Are you alright?” you carefully ask, eying him as if something was wrong.

But he only clears his throat, “Yes. Everything’s fine.” Then he hastily stands up and nods at you. “Thank you for the food.”

You watch after him as he leaves, a frown on your face. Was he really okay or was he just lying to you?

Simon on the other hand was probably turning red as a tomato. How could he allow himself to slip like that? Fuck, he needed to keep himself better under control.

As soon as he reaches his room he shuts the door and leans against it while opening his pants with shaking hands.

He had a—growing—problem and he needed take care of it. Now.

-

Approximately one week into the lockdown Simon finds you in the living room, crouched over a bunch of files and documents.

“What’s that?” he wants to know, looking over your shoulder.

“Work,” you simply reply, taking notes and pushing the papers around. You were so close, this close to finally finish this case but something was missing and it stressed you out.

He slowly nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And how did you manage to get these files?”

“I’m a lawyer Simon. I have my ways and connections,” is your plain answer and you can basically feel him tensing behind you.

“What if they give away your location,”

“They won’t.”

“How can you be sure?” He tries his best to be calm but god, you were testing his nerves. He gave you strict orders and you were supposed to follow them.

You turn around with an annoyed sigh, looking up at him. “Because my father brought me those. You think he would sell me out to the enemy? I doubt so.”

You raise your eyebrow, waiting for any other complaint by him but be only looks at the files behind you, then at you again. “Maybe check the mission reports of the special forces.” With that he leaves you alone, more than confused.

You know why Simon told you what he told you when you find what you need exactly there. The mission reports were sitting somewhere beneath everything else because you didn’t pay much attention to them; in the end they were the solution.

Now you could finally link the crimes to someone and with that to the government or the military at least.

The next time you see Simon you almost jump into his arms, thanking him over and over again. “Now the case is finally closed,” you tell him with a big grin on your face, completely forgetting that you’re usually not so happy when around him.

Simon just awkwardly pats your back, pushing you off him and ignoring the burning desire deep within him. He knew it was risky to give you a tip but you were struggling and he didn‘t like that. He just hoped that you wouldn’t ask him why he knew that you should look at the mission reports. Once you knew that he was a war criminal this job would be over. And while you certainly were a pain in the ass sometimes he felt a very present attraction towards you.

-

Simon realises he’s a goner when he wakes up one morning and sees you walking around in a shirt. Just a shirt, as far as he can see and it does something to you. His hands are itching to touch you and he finds himself excusing himself more and more to the bathroom.

And you? You started to notice the kind of power you have over him and it makes you boast with pride. You, a chubby little lawyer in your mid 20s, has him, an almost 40 year old retired military Lieutenant, wrapped around your little finger.

After that you decide to play a little game. Wouldn’t hurt, no? Just subtle touches. Brushing his arm when you walk past him, patting his chest when he helps you with something, your legs touching his whenever you sit beside him.

He tries to shrug it off but you can practically feel how worked up he gets and how hard it is for him to keep him shit together; and that fuels you only more. How long would it take for him to break? To crumble beneath your touch, huh? You wanted, no, you needed to find that out.

Simon knows what you were doing. He isn’t stupid but he hates it. How was he so weak that you were able to play with him like that?

After a week, maybe two of you dancing around him he has you caged in against the kitchen counter, towering over you.

“What makes you think you can just play with me like that, huh?” he asks in a low voice, his eyes scanning your face for any reaction. “You think it’s funny? Working me up like that every day?”

You try not to be intimidated—or turned on—by him but god, he’s just- you don��t have any words for it. He’s tall, broad and fucking strong. You once got a look at the muscles under all his clothes and you weren’t the same after that. Nu-uh.

“I thought you like it,” you reply with a cocky grin, trying to overshadow your uncertainty. “Do you want me to stop?” You blink at him, acting all innocent and pure. In the corner of your eye you see his grip on the counter tightening. Oh, you had him where you wanted him.

A ‘bloody hell’ is all you get before his lips crash down onto yours and he heaves you on top of the counter. His hands find their way to your hips, scarred fingers tracing them and squeezing, wanting to pull you even closer.

The moment his lips touch yours you forget everything else. This is want you wanted—needed—for weeks. And lord, that man knew what he was doing.

You weren’t a fan of him dragging and pushing you around but right now? Right now you couldn’t wish for anything else. You bury your hands in the dirty kind strands of hair on the back of his head, gently pulling at them which results in him groaning in your mouth.

“Take me to the bedroom and maybe I’ll stop teasing you,” you breathlessly tell him once he breaks the kiss only to kiss you again immediately making you all hot and tingly.

You can feel him smirk against his lips before they trail down your neck towards your collar bone. “Ain’t gonna take you anywhere love,” he whispers and you’re able to once again feel him smirk against your skin. “Gonna fuck you right here on that kitchen counter. You want that?” he looks up at you through hooded eyes, which makes you swallow.

“Words love, words.” His tone is playful even tho you can see the desperation in the way his hands move all over your body, letting you see stars already.

“Yes…please,” you almost choke out, feeling like everything you want to say is being swallowed my your throat again. You’re unable to talk.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Simon teases, straightening up to kiss your lips again, cupping your cheek. “Gonna take good care of you,” he promises. “I’m gonna show you how a real man treats you,” he swears and you can feel a familiar but also unfamiliar heat building in the pit of your stomach.

(i got scared to write the rest👍🏼. i’m sorry, i’m still new to writing smut😭)

[caeruleums]

𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢.

mother’s daughter: muse a has had a pretty rough childhood. when her mother was a teen, she got pregnant early with muse a and was tormented relentlessly. it made her snap and attempt to kill the girls who were making fun of her. in the end, she was apprehended and put in a mental health facility to live out the rest of her days. fast forward 20+ years and muse b is the child of the ‘final girl’. everyone thought that the baby had not been born, but muse a is out there, terrorizing muse b and their friends because of what happened to her mother. she could be hiding in plain sight, being friends with the group (and has been for years) or is a stranger.

bury a friend: after a freak accident, muse a and muse b accidentally kill their mutual friend. whether or not it’s an actual accident is up to you. muse a goes completely numb, and muse b is picking up the pieces, trying to figure out how to get away from the guilt. muse a ends up having a taste for killing, and muse b is left trying to clean up their messes so they don’t get caught. 

twisted teeth: muse a is part of a coven of prominent vampires, who don’t often associate with other beings… especially humans. however, muse a is a bit of a rebel and likes to blend in with humans as a bit of a game. but when they meet muse b, everything changes. there is a primal desire to bond in a way that muse a has never felt before. now muse a is trying to figure out how to come clean to muse b, all the while trying not to feed from them. 

maneater: two cannibals who fall in love, but neither of them know that they eat people and their taste seems to be for each other. think of mr. and mrs. smith, but instead of having a hit on each other… they’re just cannibals. 

writer in the dark: muse a is a wanderer, going from place to place and just living life with nothing holding them back. muse b is a beautiful recluse, potentially some sort of demon/witch, who lives in a cabin in the middle of the woods. muse a ends up stumbling upon this cabin, and ends up getting locked in there with muse b. there is no way out, so muse a begins to learn how to live with muse b and being their muse.

rhiannon: muse a is a historian studying the hauntings of an old ghost in a small town, and has moved into a cheap mansion on the hill. newcomers will be bewitched by the ghost’s song. muse b is the ghost in question, burned by a scorned lover so she wouldn’t say his secrets. the ghost was murdered in the mansion that muse a is living in, and only comes to life when a resident is there. muse a finds themselves bewitched by the song and voice of muse b, who has been materializing in front of them. except it seems that the two are falling in love in an unconventional way. 

bring me to life: muse a and muse b were newly weds when muse a died suddenly. muse b did everything they could to save them, and was greeted by a demon after a last ditch effort to bring their love back to life. they do a ritual, and end up beginning muse a back to life… except something is wrong. muse a has some sort of bloodlust, and muse b has to figure out how to satiate it as they navigate living new life.

[beartes22]

Jason Todd Imcorrect quotes (2/??)

Continuation of this post . Probably 2/2 until like, the next four years or sth

Angsty quotes I probably will add in some fic somewhen. They are also for adoption, they have no home yet. I am just very salty about this.

Bruce: we don’t kill, Jason!

Jason: why? Why can’t we? Why is this your line in the sand when there is no other fucking line you won’t cross!

Bruce: because if we do it we will be just as bad as them!

Jason: Bruce you sanctimonious fuck, I don’t want to be better! I just want to be safe!

Dick: why can’t you understand? We don’t kill! we can’t be judge, jury and executioner!

Jason: why not? We certainly don’t have judges or juries here!

Dick: just because the system is corrupt-

Jason: when I was murdered, where was my judgment? When did the judge pass the sentence, when did the jury declare him innocent? When was the dead penalty discarded?

Dick: …you know why Jason Todd could not have a public judgement

Jason: then what was it, was it private and you decided to leave my death unpunished or is he awaiting my judgement?

Dick: oh little wing-

Jason: my anger and my rage are not unjustified. They are just inconvenient for Batman’s crusade. Fuck you and your righteous fucking convenience.

Tim: you don’t understand! Bruce was broken after you died and Batman needs a robin!

Jason: I did not die. I was murdered.

Tim: I know. Bruce never got over failing to save you

Jason: why is his grief more important than my pain? Why must his needs overcome mine?

Tim: …he’s Batman

Jason: I see. so he’s not replaceable. But his robins aparently are.

Tim: no! That’s not-

Jason: better tread carefully then, replacement.

Bruce: you killed a man. You broke my rules!

Jason: and I will do it again. What will you do about it, then, big man, throw me to your justice?

Bruce: I will take you in like the rest of the criminals in this city

Jason: it will not stick. Thanks to your methods, I am a dead boy that doesn’t exist. I cannot be thrown in jail.

Bruce: you think I can’t put you under a fake Id?

Jason: you will go the extra mile to hurt me, but not for those that hurt me. Father of the year.

Now the less angsty ones. To break off with a laugh or sth

Goon 1: boss, we have a problem.

Red hood: *sighs deeply* what is it now, Fred?

Goon 1: …you know my name? There has been…a confusion in one of the orders, boss

Red hood: oh?

Goon 2: it appears someone mislabeled the… um, SEAL-quality equipment for-

*LOUD BRAYING CAN BE HEARD*

red hood: …how many live seals are in Gotham right now, Ricky

Goon 2: that;s um. a lot. Sir.

Goon 1: I think over twenty, boss

Red hood: and what am I supposed to do with 20 fucking seals?

Goon 2: I-i think they are actually an endangered species? So, so maybe you can, like, open a-

Red hood: no. No. I refuse. No. I will not end up my crime lord days to build an animal reserve. No.

Goon 1: we could also kill them sir. Their fur is expensive and crime alley could always stand to have more food

Red hood: we are not doing that.

Goon 2: I mean, we have done worse things for less money boss

Red hood: you want your ankles to be bitten to death by an angry toddler? Because this is how you get an angry toddler bit your ankles to death with his swords. Two of them.

Goon 1: is…is that a new rogue, boss?

Red hood: worse. Excuse me I gotta make a call

Red hood, on the phone: hey, baby demon, I got sth for you- what no, it’s not from Talía- shut up I do nice things for you on my own- oh fuck you habibi -you would be the bigger disappointment but you aren’t tall enough -oh? Did the baby get angry? Did the baby want a time out?- wait no, don’t pass the phone you co- yes. Hi B. No. Fuck you. No. Asshole. I’m hanging up.

The goons: …

Red hood: *picks up phone yet again* dickhead if you hang on me I swear to god I will haunt you-oh, sorry. Is dick there? Pass him the phone, please, it’s important. *a beat* dick, why did that random man pick up your phone- midnighter? And I thought I had the daddy issues. No wait! I have over 20 seals and I have to get rid of them- stop laughing you asshole!! *hangs up furiously*

Red hood: *turns to the goons* tomorrow the someone will come to pick up the seals. Probably an Atlantean. ETA 8 PM. Be ready or else *leaves*

Goons: …

Goon 1: I thought I knew how phone calls worked but apparently I don’t.

Goon 2: …me neither.

[wosowrites]

Sleeper (Man United x Reader)

warnings: ⚠️talk of trauma, sexu@l @ssault⚠️

a/n: if you are uncomfortable with the topic of sexu@l @ssault, skip the first paragraph. based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader has trouble sleeping at night, so she sleeps everywhere else. her team finds it adorable and are always filming and adding pictures of her to their stories.

It was known to the United girls that you didn’t sleep at night, or at least, not well. With the night, came demons of your past. With the darkness of the setting sun, came the faces of your mothers boyfriends, committing monstrosities on you. They knew about your childhood, you had told them about it after a year with the team, explaining to them the reason of your constant sleepiness.

However, your lack of sleep never seemed to affect your game. You would get a ride to training from Alessia or Ona in the morning, sleep in the car, sleep in the changing room, and then run around and score goals like a max woman during practice. And then the second it was over, you would fall asleep on the side of the pitch. Then you would go to the house of one of the girls to get sleep in an actual bed, before going to your own house and pulling yet another all nighter.

In complete honesty, your teammates were heartbroken that you couldn’t sleep at night, but they did find the fact that you felt comfortable to sleep around them. Or more like… you only felt comfortable to sleep around them. One thing you had never done though, despite the amount of times you had fallen asleep in their presence, was fall asleep on them. You felt as though that was the limit, no sleeping on teammates. It wasn’t just that either, you had never been good with touch. There were maybe two people in the whole world that you still talked too today that you had hugged. Your childhood best friend and your sister. You didn’t talk to your mother. She had known about the men, she had done nothing.

You were 20, one of the youngest on the team, and today marked 4 years since you had talked to your mother. Having gone pro at 16, starting off at Wolfsburg in your home country, you had decided to cut all ties to your mum. It was for the best. But it did hurt you, it did haunt your mind, and it most definitely made it that on that night, you were even more awake than usual.

When Ona picked you up the morning of that day, she expected you to sleep as usual, but you just stared forward.

"Que pasa? What’s wrong mi amor?" Ona asked, looking over at you fleetingly. She had always been welcoming, taking you under her wing immediately. "Mhm. I’m okay. Not tired," you lied, focusing on the trees in the horizon. "I see through you, you know. I know when you lie to me," she said, a little bluntly.

Her words took you off guard, making you look at her with raised eyebrows. "You do now?" you said, smiling. "Yes! I do! Now what is it? We have a game later today. It’s Arsenal. You need to be on your best. You need sleep," Ona said, pulling into the training center where a team bus was stationed. "It’s been four years since I’ve talked to my mother. It hurts… knowing that. I dont know," you said, trying to brush off the topic as you exited the car.

You looked at Ona over the roof of her small vehicle, smiling at her sadly. You walked around the car to be beside her, and she linked her pinky with yours. Her way to say she was there for you, without too much contact.

You smiled at your hands sadly, wishing you could just hug her.

In the bus, you sat beside Mary, as always. She was like a mother to you. Fatigue was overcoming you, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep, although you felt as though today… maybe past demons would come haunt your night, even if you were surrounded by the people you loved most. Waking up yelling and crying would not be the way to go.

But despite how strong, resilient and hard headed you were, you could not will sleep away, and eventually, it got the better of you. You had only closed your eyes for a split second, and then out of nowhere, you were out.

"It’s good she’s asleep, she didn’t sleep in the car today," Ona said to Mary. They were both sitting in the aisle seats, Ona beside Lucia. "She didn’t sleep in the car? She always sleeps in the car," Mary said, glancing over at your lolling head that had gently hit against the window. "Did I hear you say she didn’t sleep in the car?" Alessia said from behind Ona, poking her head between Mary and Ona and taking off her headphones. "She didn’t sleep in the car?!" Ella said rather loudly, jumping up and looking over at you from beside Lessi. "Ella!" Alessia scowled, telling off her best friend. "Sorry," she whispered.

They all watched you, some of the other girls looking towards the kurfuffle from their teammates that were in the back of the bus. Their eyes on you, it was impossible to miss your next action. You gently breathed in and then exhaled, fidgeting in your seat in a drowsy manner until gently letting your head fall onto Mary’s shoulder.

Mary’s eyes widened and she slowly looked back to the girls, not wanting to disturb you. "Oh my god," she whispered.

Everyone was freaking out silently, excited you now felt complete comfortable with at least one of them. "Take a video! Take a video!" Alessia said, even though she was the only one holding her phone. "You take a video! My phone is in my bag!" Ona whisper yelled. "Right!

Alessia quickly opened the camera app and got out of her seat to film and take a couple pictures.

"She’s such a baby, look at her all peaceful," Lucia chipped in. "Okay, let’s let her rest in peace, we need her for the game today. Our little energizer bunny," Mark said, having come over to see what everyone was freaking out about.

They all nodded but Mark kept looking at you for a split second. "Huh. Well that’s new, isn’t it?" he said, smiling gently and walking off.

You didn’t move away from Mary the whole ride to London, only closer. The game was at 6:00, and the team would arrive at the stadium at 4:30. It was 3:30 when you woke up. Your head was still on the english keeper’s shoulder, but your body was pressed completely against her. Needless to say that you had been enjoying the unfamiliar presence of another humans body. Not in a weird way, just in a comforting way.

Your eyes fluttered open gently. It took you a couple seconds to ground yourself. You realized you were leaning on something, or more like, someone. And that the someone was holding her phone and scrolling on tik tok. And that the someone was Mary. Your head jolted off her shoulder, eyes wide and body tense. What were you supposed to say? Apologize? Ignore it?

"Im sorry- I didn’t sleep in the car and I-" you started stuttering. "No! Hey! It’s okay! It’s good. It’s really good," Mary said gently, tucking a strand of your loose hair behind your ear and smiling at you gently. "Yeah?" you said, your heart stopping its race. "Yes. Most definitely," she said.

"Okay," you said, smiling gently. You laid your back on the chair again as Mary looked back at her phone. You looked forward to the back of the other chair, and slowly, gently, rested your head on Mary’s shoulder again. You couldn’t see her face, but she was smiling wildly.

The media manager filmed you and the united girls as you walked out of the bus. You fist bumped the camera as always and then kept walking.

You made your way into the away locker room and went to your cubby between Ona and Aoife, as María was injured.

"Okay girls. Change into your kit and warmup jersey and then we’ll go over the game plan and starting lineup before heading out for warmup on the field," Mark said.

The girls nodded and Mark walked out to let you all change.

Another thing that had been hard for you was changing. You didn’t have visible scars, but the emotional ones were there. But with knowing the girls, it ended up coming easily. The first time you changed without hesitation, the girls noticed. They noticed silently, and didn’t ever say anything about it, but you knew they were proud of you.

You put on your warmup long sleeve and shorts, then your socks and cleats and you taped your wrist to cover up two bracelets you refused to take off.

Then, Mark came back in when everyone was decent, armed with a white board.

"Okay ladies. Our game plan today is simple. Possession. We will win by keeping the ball, and taking strategic shots. I don’t want to see any wild balls from the half, okay. Pass through their defence, and then shoot. That’s the only thing we can do to beat a team like Arsenal, you hear me?" Skinner said as all the girls nodded. "Okay. Starting lineup. Mearps, Ona, Hannah, Tooney, Katie, Leah, y/n, Maya, Lucia, Millie, Alessia. Let’s go girls. We win, we’re on top of the table instead of third."

You all cheered and then walked out onto the field. Fans were already in the stadium, a sea of red. But Arsenal red, not United red. You saw a few away fans in the corner, holding up a huge United flag, and you nodded at them and waved.

Warmup seemed to go by in a hurry, and soon enough, you had taken the team picture and gotten ready for kickoff.

The game did not go smoothly. Arsenal won 3-1, everyone was super annoyed, but somehow, Mark wasn’t. "You played the way I told you too. You passed through their defence, and thought strategically, but Arsenal is good. Really good. We’re still in this race. Let’s go home, sleep on the bus, just take a minute.

Everyone climbed onto the bus in annoyed silence. Mary was pissed, and although she didn’t say anything, you knew she wanted to be alone. So you took a seat in a free spot by yourself. Or at least, you thought it would be just you. "Lucia kicked me out, wanted all the room to sleep," Ona said, looking at you with her puppy dog eyes. "C’mere then, i’ll show Lucia what she’s missing," you joked, moving your bag and getting out of the area to let Ona have the window seat. She loved the window seat.

"You know me too well," she said, sitting at the window seat. You sat back down next to her. "Good goal, by the way," Ona said to you. "Thanks. Wish I could have gotten more," you said, licking your lips. "No, don’t do that. Don’t put that on yourself," Ona said. "Because you would let me say that I could have defended better and you wouldn’t let Mary say she could have saved those shots," Ona told you, trying to get you too look at her.

You eventually made eye contact with her. "Come here," Ona said.

She didn’t really think, the fact that you didn’t like touch slipping her mind. She patted her lap, realizing her mistake a few seconds later. But by then, you were already shifting your position so that your head and shoulders rested on her lap. You bent your knees and rested your hand on Ona’s lap. She was taken aback for a second before gently placing her coat on you as a blanket. It smelt like you.

Ona took a picture of you, posting it to her story and then adding it to an album she had. In it, dozens of videos and pictures of you sleeping in odd places. In the trunk of a car, on the side of the pitch, in the stands at a men’s united football game, in the alley of a parked coach bus. She found it hilarious, all your United girls did.

[damianbugs]

hi saki hiii if it's not 2 much of a bother, do u have a link to a batman reading list w some of the older comics u often talk abt? despite The Disease I've only read maybe 4 actual Bruce Wayne centered runs

-Angel 🫶🏾

HI ANGEL !!! unfortunately i have not yet found a good reading list of older batman comics. most of them are just like "read every single thing published since 1940" and like, okay, fair enough, but also no one wants to do that.

fortunately this gave me an excuse to look through my own fav reads and compile a short list to get you started! the thing about older batman comics is that (personally) they are far more easier to follow compared to modern day comics, so once you get familiar with the older style and layouts, it's so easy to just find the kind of stories you want to read!

most of these are published after the 1970s but all of them are before the New 52 (2011) !!

for a more concise list (+content/trigger warnings) you can find this reading list on my comic geeks.

> Batman: Legends of The Dark Knight

now this collection features over 200 issues and a dozen writers BUT it's because it's full of 2-4 issue short stories. out of these, the ones i recommend most to begin with are; #16-20 (venom), #39-40 (mask), #100 (the choice).

if you like the tone of these, then i would recommend reading the other stories too. great thing is that they're not connected to each other at all, so if you don't like one then you can skip it no problem. i definitely jumped over a few writers and weird stories when reading.

> Batman 1940

now from the main run itself, the advice to just read everything published is not worth it. some of these stories really just drag or are super confusing.

some favourites of mine to start with are; #402-403 (One Batman Too Many), #423 (You Shoulda Seen Him...) and of course, #404-#408 (Batman Year One).

> Detective Comics

now i have always been of the opinion that tec is the better of the two main runs, and you can really see the quality of story telling shine in older comics !

a few of my favourite issues are: #408 (The House That Haunted Batman), #439 (The Night of the Stalker), #457 (There is No Hope in Crime Alley!), #573-574 (My Beginning... and my Probable End) and #598-#600 (Blind Justice).

> The Brave and The Bold

all runs of tbatb runs, whether that be the 1950, 1990, 2007 or even present 2023 run, are so good !!!

for an older story, #93 (published 1970) is my favourite !!

> Batman Black and White

okay so i know i have been giving singular issue recs up until now but i am so serious when i say you should just read every single issue of Batman Black and White. there are three runs, the 1996, 2014 and 2020 with only around 6 issues each. some of the best and truly life changing stories are within it.

in fact, my all time number one favourite batman comic EVER is published in #1 of the 1996 run (Perpetual Mourning). there will never be a batman story ever like it again.

> Other Stories

there was something in the air during the 1990s, because some of the best ever batman stories were published during that time. i fear there has truly never been such a stacked decade like that one.

a few essential must reads from 1980s-1990s; Batman The Cult, Batman: Night Cries, Batman: War on Crime, Batman: The Ultimate Evil, Batman: Son of the Demon.

happy reading!!!!

[itsawritblr]

So . . . I was sent these.

A couple of you know I used to have a Beetlejuice x Lydia blog. Used to be into the fandom big time, since the movie first opened in 1988. Then, for reasons I won't get into, I lost interest in all things Beej.

But some people still read my Beej fics on AO3. And one of them sent me these photos from Beetlejuice 2. They also sent me the link to the article they appeared in.

So for you few Beetlebabes who still Follow me -- you know who you are -- here's the article.

“Beetlejuice Beetlejuice”... Beetlejuice returns in first look at Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder

Nick Romano

Wed, March 20, 2024 at 9:00 AM CDT

It's been 36 years, but once again, the juice is loose.

After reprising Batman in last year's The Flash, Michael Keaton returns to another iconic role in Entertainment Weekly's exclusive first look at Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, the sequel to director Tim Burton's cult hit.

Winona Ryder and Catherine O'Hara also reprise their roles as Lydia and Delia Deetz, respectively, while Burton's Wednesday star Jenna Ortega plays Lydia's daughter Astrid, and The Leftovers star Justin Theroux plays Rory. Further details on Rory remain under wraps for now — unlike the titular "bio-exorcist."

The original Beetlejuice (1988) followed the recently deceased Barbara and Adam Maitland (Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin), who enlist the aid of the mischievous demon Beetlejuice/Betelgeuse (Keaton), to expel the current living residents of their home, the Deetz family. All hell, subsequently, breaks loose.

The sequel picks up decades later with a death in the family. "That's all I will say," Burton tells EW in an interview. "There's something that happens that sets things in motion." Could that be the death of Lydia's father, Charles Deetz (Jeffrey Jones)? The director plays coy: "We'll see." One thing's for sure, Beetlejuice comes back into play.

Burton describes getting Keaton back in the classic costume and makeup as "a weird out-of-body experience."

"He just got back into it," the filmmaker behind 1989's Batman (also starring Keaton) and 1993's The Nightmare Before Christmas recalls. "It was kind of scary for somebody who was maybe not that overly interested in doing it. It was such a beautiful thing for me to see all the cast, but he, sort of like demon possession, just went right back into it."

Burton says he and Keaton have talked about a sequel on and off over the years. "Unless it felt right, he had no burning desire to do it," the director recalls. "I think we all felt the same way. It only made sense if it had an emotional hook."

Many concepts were floated around, some dating all the way back to the '80s, including a treatment set in Hawaii. "We talked about lots of different things," Burton says. "That was early on when we were going, Beetlejuice and the Haunted Mansion, Beetlejuice Goes West, whatever. Lots of things came up."

What they needed, however, was time. His actors, including Ryder and O'Hara, had all moved on to other projects after the original came out, and "nobody," Burton notes, "was really pushing for it." The filmmaker also admits he didn't initially (and still doesn't to some degree) understand the success of the first film, so he wasn't motivated to move forward with an idea that didn't excite him.

The hook he was looking for, as it turns out, revolves around Ryder's Lydia and bringing together three generations of Deetz women, including O'Hara's Delia and Ortega's Astrid. "I so identified with the Lydia character, but then you get to all these years later, and you take your own journey, going from cool teenager to lame adult, back and forth again," he explains. "That made it emotional, gave it a foundation. So that was the thing that really truly got me into it."

Other details on the film itself are being kept secret for now, other than the presence of Monica Bellucci (Spectre), Arthur Conti (House of the Dragon), and Willem Dafoe (Poor Things) among the cast. (Dafoe previously disclosed his role as a B-movie action star who died and became a police officer in the Afterlife.) Burton feels "a bit jinx-y" about revealing such things, given that he's still shaping the movie in the editing phase. But he does confirm he'll be using stop-motion animation to bring a lot of the classic Beetlejuice effects to the screen. "It needed a back-to-basics, handmade quality," he says. "It reenergized why I love making movies."

And what about that title? Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. "It's been, what? Thirty-five years. So it didn't feel like Beetlejuice 2 to me," Burton says. "It didn't feel like that kind of a movie. The other one I thought of, because one of my favorite Dracula movies is Dracula A.D. 1972, was Beetlejuice 2024 A.D. But this was a nice simple one."

Just don't say the name one more time, or you risk summoning the man himself.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice will hit theaters on Sept. 6.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Addendum: Was sent the link to this, too.

I'm . . . fearfully optimistic . . . .

[tightjeansjavi]

Lazuli | Joel Miller and Ellie Williams

A/N: here’s the sweet dad/daughter vibes we have all been patiently waiting for. Bird watcher! Joel is such a sweetie pie.

~word count: 1.8k~

Summary: Joel finally gets to live the simple life with his daughter Ellie by his side.

Warnings: light angst, fluff, lots of dad daughter vibes, Joel is a real softy in this, he’ll do anything to make his kid happy, unconditional love, lots of soft dad vibes, Joel is just a content old man with his bird watching book that Ellie gifted him, Joel finally gets his sheep!!

Joel Miller knows deep within his withered bones that it wasn’t time that did it. He knows that it wasn’t time that did it because time is constrained; as much as it is flighty. Time passes by in a blur. Days, months, weeks, years. No, it wasn’t time that did it. It was a 14 year old girl named Ellie Williams. Joel’s light through the never ending darkness that had once swallowed his soul whole. Ellie was a beacon of hope that shone brightly through the treacherous stormy seas that once resided in Joel’s heart. When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light. Joel remembers this symbol all too well. Ellie Williams; Joel Miller’s savior.

Joel was stubborn, rough around the edges and hiding years worth of turmoil and demons that haunted his living nightmares. Ellie came swinging at his harsh exterior, and nearly impassable defensives with a fucking sledge hammer. She chipped away at his looming concrete walls with her day in and day out of shitty puns, contagious joyous laughter, and her smile. Her smile that made this grumpy man feel like that for the first time in 20 years, he could find the meaning of home inside a person once more. Yes, it was true. Joel Miller loved Ellie as if she truly was his own. Ellie was his daughter just as much as Sarah was and after everything they endured and survived together, he could not picture his life without her in it.

Everything Joel did was for her. For his baby girl. Ellie didn’t understand it then, and maybe she would never understand why Joel did the things he did, but all he prayed for was her forgiveness. When the truth was uttered from his lips, and the dust settled into calm, Joel was terrified that Ellie would never want to speak to him again. He did it out of love. He did it because she was his world, and she shone brighter than the sun, than any star in the goddamn sky. Ellie was his home, and Joel was hers.

Ellie didn’t speak to him for months after the events at the hospital. She was hurting just as much as he was, and it tore her up inside to not be as close to him as she once was. Summer turned to fall, fall to winter and when spring rolled around she was finally ready to speak to him again.

Joel had just gotten back from another successful patrol run with Tommy and a few other men. He was untacking his horse back at the stables when Ellie had approached him. He didn’t hear her at first, bad ear and all that. He had just hauled the saddle over the saddle rack when Ellie had popped up. “Jesus—kiddo? What’re you doin’ sneakin’ up on your old man like that? Tryin’ to send my ass to an early grave or somethin?’” He chuckled warmly.

“Sorry about that, Joel. I almost forgot about my old man’s bad ear. Did you and uncle Tommy find anything interesting out there?” She was leaning against the saddle rack, arms crossed with her signature little Ellie grin.

“Almost forgot about it? Now that hurts, El. We saw a few deer and some coyotes. No Infected for miles, and not’a lick of raiders out there.” He started brushing down his horse then. The most mundane tasks were becoming a stable comfort for Joel. It was nice to spend some time with the horses. They were fantastic listeners after all.

“Oh? Well, that’s fantastic news! Listen, Dina and I went for a ride yesterday and we stumbled upon this really nice plot of land. Just about a mile's ride to the west, and it’s got tons of tree coverage. I think there’s enough acres for you to even have your sheep farm..” she trailed off as she played with the hem of her shirt.

Joel slowly looked over at her as he ceased the brush movements over his horse’s withers. “You remembered that I wanted to have a sheep farm? Kiddo..what’re you sayin’? That we should skip town and live out in the woods?”

“Dad, of course I remembered that you wanted to have a sheep farm. Remember how romantic I said it was? Just you and some sheep? We could build a nice big cabin and a barn for the sheep and some horses. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Dad

Joel felt his heart lurch from the confines of his chest when Ellie called him Dad. She had never called him dad. It had been so many years since.. “How about this, Tommy and I will go check out this plot of land that you and Dina discovered, and then we can discuss maybe movin’ there. Does that sound like a good plan?” He could feel his eyes sting lightly with freshly brewed tears as the 3 letter word rocked his soul more than Ellie could even imagine.

“Alrighta. That sounds like a good plan. Hey, I gotta run. Meeting Dina at the mess hall but I’ll see you at home, okay?” Ellie was already pushing herself off the side of the saddle rack, taking a few steps before she was wrapping her arms around him in a warm hug with her cheek pressed against his back just like old times.

Joel couldn’t hide the infectious smile from spreading across his face. His dimples poked through as the corners of his eyes crinkled. He was smiling so hard his cheeks began to ache. He turned around in her embrace so he could properly hug her. He pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head as he held her close. “Yeah, I’ll see you at home kiddo.”

Joel had an increasingly difficult time saying no to his kid after that. He’d do anything to make her happy, and if building a log cabin in the woods would make her happy, then so be it. It took him, Tommy, and any able bodied man in town the rest of the year to build the cabin, barn, and fenced in pasture.

Maria had woven together two wool quilts for Joel and Ellie, while Joel and Tommy crafted most of the furniture together. Stories of the past were shared over a couple beers under the hot summer rays. On Joel’s nightstand he had his favorite photo of Sarah. She had the biggest smile on her face as Joel was playfully covering her eyes. He kissed it before bed every night. Next to that photo was his favorite picture of him and Ellie. Tommy had taken it when Shimmer had her foal last spring. Joel was looking over at his daughter lovingly. The final photo was of Joel, Tommy, and Tess. He still missed her on some nights, and she never looked more beautiful.

Joel even got his dream to own some sheep. Three to be exact. They were named Sarah, Ellie, and Tess. (Yeah he was quite the softy)

When Ellie came to him one crisp fall morning asking if they could get a dog, Joel’s immediate response was no. A few horses and sheep was enough to keep them busy, but a dog? That was going to be a whole other task. He caved however when Ellie had asked him enough times. So, Ellie came home with what Joel first thought was a..rat. Upon closer inspection he realized it was in fact a scrawny puppy. “He was the runt of the litter and Maria told me to take him home. What do you think we should name him?”

“Callus.” Joel responded with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

For Joel’s sixty-fifth birthday, he was surrounded by his family, and close friends he made in Jackson. Maria had made him his favorite cake and Tommy insisted that his older brother wear a party hat that had seen better days. “How old are ya again big brother?” Tommy asked with a light smile as the cake was being cut. “Sixty-five years old, you little shit.” Joel responded with a light chuckle, and a playful glare in the younger Miller brother’s direction.

“Goddamn. Sixty-five? You’re fuckin’ ancient.” He chuckled.

Joel gave him a light punch in the shoulder. “Ancient and can still easily kick your ass.”

This caused Joel’s goddaughter, Amelia to giggle from where she was sitting on the floor next to Callus, sneakily feeding him a tiny piece of her cake. Joel was secretly over the moon when he found out that Tommy and Maria were having a little girl, and even more so when he was asked to be her godfather.

“Daddy? Uncle Joel is sooo silly! He’s the silliest!”

“He sure is, babygirl. Don’t give Callus too much of that, okay? He’ll get a tummy ache.”

Joel was so happy that his brother was getting to experience being a girl-dad. He was a fantastic father, just like Joel always knew he would be.

When it was time for presents, Joel had let out a groan because he insisted that no presents were necessary and he didn’t need anything except for his family to keep him happy. Materialistic possessions were nothing compared to those he held closest to him. “What did I say about presents, kiddo?” He wrapped his arm around Ellie’s shoulder as she sat down beside him on the couch.

“I know, I know dad. Just open it okay? You’re gonna love it.” Ellie placed the gift into her father’s lap with a small smile. “I promise it’s nothing crazy either. I just saw it in town the other day and knew I had to get it for you.”

“Course i’ll love it kiddo. Anythin’ you get for me I always love.” He carefully tore at the paper that had been hand pressed with twine used for a makeshift bow. Once the gift was unraveled, a smile graced his aging features. “Bird watchin’ for beginners? This is actually really neat. Always wanted to do some bird watchin’ out here. Thank you, babygirl. I love it.” He set the book to the side before pulling Ellie in for a warm hug.

“You’re welcome dad, I love you.” Ellie hugged him tightly.

“I love you more kiddo. More than anythin.’”

Rain, shine, or snow, Joel was out on the wrap-around porch every morning with his bird watching book in one hand, and a steaming mug of coffee in the other. Callus would be comfortably sleeping along his feet while Joel would excitedly whisper to his furry companion about all the birds he saw that day. His favorite was the Lazuli Bunting. He would share his bird discoveries with Ellie when she would come home from school, and work at the stables back in Jackson. On the weekends she’d sit alongside him with a book, glancing up every so often to see her dad in his happy place watching the birds.

This is how his life was till his very last day. Bird watching, Callus at his feet, and Ellie Williams; the once stubborn, witty, fun loving teenager that taught Joel Miller how to love again. To live again. It was all thanks to her, his bright shining light in the once vast darkness that encased his heart.

Tagging some friends that I think will enjoy: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @thetriumphantpanda @morning-star-joy @dinsdjrn @cupofjoel @sinsofsummers @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42

[naffeclipse]

naff! now that cryptid sightings is finished, could we possibly get a breakdown on which cryptid is a reference to which canon character? some are obvious, like the glamrocks, but i couldn't for the life of me figure out some of the ones mentioned in chapter 20!

i also just wanted to say what a wonderful journey it's been getting to read cryptid sightings as it was being written! i've gushed about it to literally all of my friends who will listen asdfghjkl it's hands down one of my top DCA fics ever <3

A century ago, Maetwos cornered him in the catacombs of a large city. There were many little bones. She had stalked him for days. He slipped away, much to her chagrin. She did not shake the failure for a decade.

Roxanne

In the swampy marshes of a new settlement, Adilyat encountered the cryptid with a child in his jaws. He bellowed and lunged. They both were nearly destroyed and gravely injured. Adilyat still regrets not finishing the cryptid or dying in the attempt.

Monty

During a gathering three centuries ago in a grassy land on the edge of civilization, there were terrible suspicions of Gahhar breaking the sacred rules. Children were haunted by a rabbit-like entity. All of the sacred rule holders feared one of their one was falling away but Gahhar proved his innocence.

Bonnie

Half a century back, Kakeeko told of her sorrows in failing to protect a little one. It was along a beach, the water salty. She saw the demonic cryptid, violet and cruel, jump into the water. She couldn’t swim fast enough to the child floating along the surface, her feathers soaked and heavy. She can’t bear reminders of blood in the water.

Chica

Eight years ago, Felzil was desperate to keep a child safe within his stomach cavity. A cryptid attacked him in the quiet woods. Felzil lost the child. He has been mourning ever since.

Freddy

Paahlott crossed paths with him five decades again. It was at a family restaurant. She took a puppet for her vessel to watch over the many little ones. He was there. He stole children away, possessing a golden rabbit suit.

The Puppet

That makes me so happy to hear that, ahhh! Thank you for reading, babe! ♥

[monsieuroverlord]

The TLDR Comic Book Cub Podcast recently interviewed Ben Percy, in which he does talk about the upcoming Hellverine ongoing and writing Akihiro.

(This podcast episode was released September 12, 2024)

I transcribed some moments I found particularly interesting --some word-for-word, some paraphrased, as I felt like it and what personally flowed in my brain:

As a background, essentially this series sprung out as a continuation from when Percy was writing both Wolverine and Ghost Rider. And he thought that was going to be it, but then Marvel asked him to keep writing. Then the Hellverine toy was announced, and they’re just leaning into the huge amount of interest in Hellverine as a concept (Percy’s words)

5:20 – Aki is a character that Percy has wanted to explore further, continue to live in the Wolverine family (writing Wolverine-related books)

5:30 -- Percy: "[Akihiro] was baptized in blood, you know? He was born to a dead mother, a murdered mother, and so he's haunted --he's afflicted with sort of a scarred heart"

5:50 -- Percy also says he feels Aki had been backgrounded these past few years and wanted to give him the spotlight -- "provide a hellishly high-octane blast of energy to the character and give him a chance for reinvention" Percy says it feels like it’s a fun, new chapter for character.

7:54 -- not Aki-related, but he says he wanted to go as "heavy metal as possible" with Ghost Rider. Heavy focus on the body horror -- feels like there's been a resurgence in interest in horror at Marvel.

10:22 -- Whereas Johnny Blaze had some relative normalcy in childhood, for Aki, it's been "scorched earth" from the beginning, and Percy describes him as coming to terms with that. Aki's had "some brightness, some bright moments in his adult life, but a truly tortured beginning"

11:11 --"He's gone through a lot of troubled situations involving father figures and his absentee Biological father -- he's moved past that, though, and so this like a moment for him atht’s beyond that, beyond Krakoa... it's his chance to sort of like lean into this troubled division – here he is, someone who's been killed by his own father, here's this guy who's been torn apart by Sabretooth, here's this guy who's murdered his foster family, done many things that he regrets. But the thing about regret is that its a great teacher"

12:03 – “In this particular situation, he’s not only going to be struggling to control this demonic entity, Bagra-Ghul, he’s also going to be trying to figure out who he is now. And the world has changed, mutants are on the run once again, mutants are despised, and there might be a larger conspiracy at work – a larger, you know, demonic conspiracy, satanic conspiracy that is trying to engender fear and light fires of hate because that’s the fuel that hell consumes.”

12:45 – Aki “will have to become a conflicted warrior in that battle.” Percy states that he is specifically speaking in generalities, but notes there are all sorts of occultist mysteries to come. He will lean into mutant side of things, but also “flirt with 616” and bring in Dr. Strange.

[the topics shift a bit, a bit of Sabretooth War, some Ghost Rider – the focus of discussion is pushing boundaries of horror/gore in comics – what is too far? Then, asking if he has interest in writing any other characters like Laura? Percy says yes, he’d be interested, but he’s not done writing Logan. Announcements to come]

Percy was then asked what drew him to writing Akihiro

23:36 “as tortured as he is, he’s come into his own as a man, and I just wanted explore that further – I mention that he’s been present in stories here and there, but he’s – like, to have him get a shot like this – put him in a hellish beam of light and follow him for 15 issues, like, and hopefully put a permanent dent in the character’s mythology”

24:13 – interested in “not just exploring what he’s capable of as a road warrior, but also exploring you know, romantic angle, [*Percy pauses here*] and exploring familial angles, and exploring occultist possibilities as he works alongside Dr. Strange.”

Then asked what his initial plans for Hellverine are – ballpark idea of overall story and how long it might take

26:06 – “Well, I can guarantee you there are ten issues. Whether it goes beyond that, I don’t know… I’m thinking of them as five and five – they’ll be collected as trades, ad so this first part is dealing with the conspiracy I referenced earlier [the occultist/demonic conspiracy], that I won’t tell you really anything more about that, except that there’s some trouble afoot that Mephisto might be behind. And [Aki] is caught up in this holy war, in a way. Dr. Strange plays a central role in the story, and the 2nd storyline, which will grow naturally out of the first one, just gets bigger, while also drawing upon some earlier stuff established in the miniseries connected to Project Hellfire.”

[attention shifts back to Ghost Rider/Johnny Blaze – the number of issues Percy has done and the impact of the character. Percy’s longest collab was with artist Cory Smith. Percy even mentions he was gifted an original page of Ghost Rider, which he treasures and will treasure for the rest of his life. Percy was asked about if he’s ever reflected on the impact he’s had on Ghost Rider. There’s a discussion on Blaze’s newer love interest – described as “if John Constantine was a woman.” Percy also discusses his inspirations – The Godfather, Goodfellas – mobster movies. Shifts to Wolverine (he wrote two seasons of Podcast – Stitcher podcast, which I think is really good, btw) then adaptation, then X-Force, and Wolverine solo.  Attention goes back to Ghost Rider, then Percy’s upcoming Predator Vs. series. Percy discusses his introduction to Predator in the 3rd grade and the impact it had on him in 1987. Then how Predator Vs. Wolverine came to be, then now Predator Vs. Black Panther and the future of the Predator Vs. series. Percy also has more planned – two-year exclusive contract with Marvel now. Hints at a not-yet-announced book he’ll be writing, and it’s a dream character of his. Back to Predator discussion, maybe a third series of Wolverine podcast – pitch written – but nothing confirmed yet. Then his independent work – The Ninth Metal has a pilot. Urban Cowboy has an adapted show in the works – lots of screenwriting stuff. ]

And that’s about it!

My thoughts:

I don’t normally listen to podcasts, so trying to sit through this physically pained me. I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat waiting for any Akihiro details. But anything for the beloveds.

Also to note, they refer to Laura as “X-23” and Akihiro as “Daken” – there’s even a bit where they debate on how to actually pronounce Daken. The hosts (or at least one of them) says “Day-ken” where Percy says “Dah-ken” (Percy is correct)

I think the specific mention of romantic angle development a good sign!!! Hopefully that means Aurora will reappear at some point!

But overall, I am still feeling pretty ambivalent about this upcoming series.

To start positively, I like that a minimum of ten issues are planned. Percy does have a pretty solid following with relatively long runs compared to most books nowadays (50 on both Wolverine and X-Force is impressive for this day and age), so unless something catastrophic happens, I think Marvel is likely to give him the ten issues at least.

We already got two planned story arcs, which I think is a good sign. And we may also see the Hellfire Warriors reappear in the 2nd arc, which could be interesting.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – I do think Percy is a good writer. He’s got an excellent style that lends itself well to an interesting comic book. I just think sometimes his plot choices suck.

So I think, personally, the make-or-break of this series is HOW he characterizes Akihiro. Percy did have some excellent writing prior to Aki’s death in Sabretooth War -- I will acknowledge he’s he one writer who actually touched on his strained relationship with Logan during the Krakoa era. Also, his Aurora during that arc was on-point – her monologue was Aki fans everywhere.

From this podcast, I’d say he appears to have a decent understanding of Akihiro, but what he decides to do with Aki is still worrying me. As a concept, it sounds cool and very unique, but the execution remains to be seen.

[wuntrum]

Hi I dont really remember your ocs but I really want to meet them! Who is right now on the radar? or maybe who is your fave? can you tell me something about them in a few sentences?

hiii! so there's a couple groups of them:

saints for girls: my fake little emo band, they have the most information publicly available about them: if you check out the blog and take the "which character are you" quiz, they have little descriptions at the end :)

my muses' muse: this is the story of two of my characters, aster blake and lilah medina. aster is a horror-obsessed painter in their late 20s. they're generally pretty anxious, not very talkative, and they don't trust very easily. most of their paintings stem from dreams, most of which are about their own death (very cute, very fun). lilah is a 35* year old multidisciplinary artist, she does a fair amount of painting + printmaking + drawing. she's much more charismatic than aster, but she's EXTREMELY guarded around people, particularly about her past. both of them are very stubborn and nosy about the people around them (though aster hates to admit it; lilah has come to terms with this lol). the two of them meet through an artist residency at the fischer house, named after lewis fischer, a beloved maritime printmaker who disappeared very suddenly one night before his final exhibition, and is presumed dead at this point. also lilah's a vampire <3

signals: jeanne, my beloved <3 she's the main character, very imaginative and sensitive, desperately wants love and affection but doesn't know how to actually get it from the people in her life, so she goes inside her own head instead. she wears headphones constantly for this reason (+ also i think she has pretty bad misophonia), which is how she initially hears God trying to talk to her

nimo, the techxorcist: i haven't actually finished a drawing of them, which is sick and twisted honestly, but they're in an alternate reality sci-fi future where generally society has gone really futuristic, but because of how much companies and governments use the new stuff to monitor and control people, there's a growing population that's gone back to using early internet era tech...which is now super haunted. for whatever reason, nimo can see and commune with the tech ghosts/spirits/demons, and so they travel around doing that! personality wise though theyre pretty standoffish, honestly they don't like people that much generally which is why they're so gravitated toward the tech LOL. they're also very imaginative though, they're able to problemsolve their way out of almost everything. almost nocturnal. very pale because they don't go outside a lot.

it ends with august: this story has been like assembled and taken apart like four times now so i don''t wanna commit to anything super concrete just yet 😭 but, right now, the titular august is an anxious mess to be honest (kind of a theme among my people i guess sldfslfk). he comes from a family of grifters (mainly his dad and grandfather) who fake spiritual and psychic powers and make their money by selling like, self help books and counseling sessions and that sort of thing. august, however, DOES actually have some sort of psychic powers, growing stronger by the day without him doing anything or wanting them (its almost like a parasitic thing, it becomes unclear as to who is actually controlling who). right nowww the actual story "it ends with august" takes place when august is 27, he went to college majoring in english + is now a librarian in a moderately big city, but has to go back to his small coastal home town because of some psychic shenanigans. lucky's also a pretty big part of the story, he reads as a sterotypical jock-y guy on first meeting, but he has a lot more going on. he went to college through a football scholarship, but had a career-ending injury in his senior year, and had to go back to the small town ever since. lucky + august went to school together, and were pretty good friends until Something Happened, after which they became really estranged...but because they both end up back home, they start being in each others orbits again and well...yknow

those are the main ones! i'm working on some others, too, mainly for the graveyard shift, but it's so not concrete at the moment that i can't even rly talk about them yet LOL. my favorites tend to change from month to month, although typing all these descriptions out made me realize how much i miss august and the techxorcist, so i might need to make art for both of them and their stories soon 😭

[finchwrites]

Hi! I'm Finch! I'm a writer of fiction, primarily queer fantasy. I'll post things I've written here, but I also reblog a lot of tips, resources, and other people's work! I am more than open to tag games as long as you are open to me forgetting about them and posting them late, haha.

Here's a rundown of my main WIPs:

Project: The Rubicon, est. 2012

modern urban fantasy, supernatural, horror elements

Peter Alvarez leaves New York for the South in search of the best friend who he thought committed suicide years ago. What he finds instead is more than he bargained for: a landlord who befriends him in unexpected ways, a coworker who hates him on sight for no reason, a boss who gives him more chances than he deserves, and the ghost that brought them all together.

Peter Alvarez, 26, he/him, lost in life since his best friend died, dependent on everyone around him as he refuses to move on.

Carmen Oliveira, 24, she/her, a barista at the cafe Peter begins to work at, nice to everyone but him for reasons he doesn't understand.

Chase Greenwood, 27, he/him, owner of the small cafe they work at, willing to help but not to get too close.

Elliot Bingham, 27, he/him, high school friend of Chase and Peter's landlord, contains multitudes.

Noah Bryant, 19 now then and forever, a ghost

Project: The Stewniverse, est. 2019

high fantasy original setting

Stewie has a wonderful family, a stable lifestyle in the town he grew up in, and should have no complaints… and yet, he’s always been anxious and restless and could never understand why. After a close encounter with life-threatening danger, his mother, a retired adventurer, finally relents and passes on her sword to him. Stewie sets off to solve all the problems of the world that he possibly can with nothing more than his mother’s sword and his loyal horse, Ser Decadence. Along the way he finds companions he never expected, along with a mystery that only seems to get more twisted and complicated the more clues they find.

Steward Knight, 19, he/him, human, the anxious son of a retired adventurer who wants to fix the world in the hopes that it will fix him.

Kieran, 26, he/him, a mysterious half-elven man with an even more mysterious quest: to help fae wherever he finds them. He seems to resent this, but does it all the same. 

Rishi, 22, she/her, an elven student of magic at the most prestigious arcane college on the continent, unable (or unwilling?) to cast any spells. 

Evelyn, 20, he/they, Kieran’s half-elven younger brother who is set on killing Kieran for a crime he won’t specify and who claims he is prevented from doing this only by the fact that he cares about Stewie and Stewie cares about Kieran.

Ashe, around his mid to late 20s in mortal years, he/it, a kelpie who has attached himself to Kieran and Stewie for reasons unknown and has vowed to never leave their side.

Lottie, 23, she/her, a human bard, accomplished heartbreaker,  and lover of animals who grew up with Kieran and Evelyn and is constantly putting her own problems aside to mediate between the two conflicting brothers.

Selkies is a short story I wrote for a fiction class

The Pale Demon of Hollowbrook is a chapter excerpt from either NaNo 20 or NaNo 22.

Project: Lilywood, est. 2022

modern urban fantasy, supernatural, horror elements

a haunted house time travel mystery

Canary has never felt like she belongs anywhere, even in her hometown of Lilywood, the town that accepts all stragglers, outcasts, and loners. Her only friends are fellow burnouts Ryan Shuck and Jamie Yamashita. When construction on the historic manor at the heart of Lilywood goes awry, they are pulled into a supernatural mystery surrounding the house that spans across centuries, hoping that it will answer the burning question each of them have had their whole life: who am I?

Canary Spencer, 21, she/they, a deeply insecure young adult trying to figure out who she is and how to be comfortable with being true to herself while exploring a house haunted by time.

Ryan Shuck, 23, he/they, an avoidant young adult who feels trapped by his circumstances and is scared of things changing even as his previously normal and ordinary life begins to turn upside down around him.

Jamie Yamashita, 25, he/him, a loud and cocky young man who rushes headfirst into the mystery of Lilywood Manor with more confidence than is warranted for someone who has no experience with the supernatural.

Project: Forget Me Not, est. 2024

modern vampire fantasy, romance, horror elements

a human afraid of dying and a vampire who would rather die than live forever

chronic illness, dementia, death, grief, dysphoria

Dana Hardy, 26, he/him, a young adult who has been terrified of aging ever since he watched his grandfather succumb to dementia and death. He learned about the understudied progressive illness Vampirism and is obsessed with contracting it

Wade Cameron, 24, he/him, a young trans man who has recently been diagnosed with vampirism. He's horrified at the thought that his body will stay the same forever and he'll never change or die. He wants nothing more than to find a cure.

[just-some-guy-joust]

Tell us about Eden *holds up microphone to you*

Thank you all for indulging me I am going to yell about her so fucking hard <3 Same as my Amedeo rant, this one's LONG babey YIPPEE! This ended up being 34 fucking paragraphs!!!!

All art is by me, all links on character names lead to their toyhouse profiles

Content warnings: Unreality, toxic relationships, bad mental health

This is Eden! She/her, 20-22 years old (22 at time of Doomed By The Narrative), 5'1, a college student who's also in the college's gaming club! She's the best friend/sister of Aiden, another member of the club who's like super rich and inherited a fuckoff big manor from their parents (which I am mentioning exclusively for the context to explain the fact that the story is called In A Manor Of Speaking)

Eden is very very sweet and kind and energetic and fun. She's good vibes all around and she's friends with Everyone so hard. If you're familiar with my other OC I've shoved into one of my tournaments though, Amedeo, you... might know where this is going a little bit.

For a basic plot summary up until Eden has anything to do with anything, Aiden comes home one day with a demon, Viorel, who is VERY lost and confused and has no memory of how he got to the human world. They all pretty quickly discover Viorel is not the only demon coming through to the human world though. Vivian and Engel are hunting him down and don't believe him when he says he has no clue who they are. They send another demon after him to kill him, though it doesn't work well since he just befriends it and now it is also living in the manor having a good time. Afterwards, Amedeo, a member of the gamer club, starts acting... odd. He invites Aiden to hang out, and then they get kidnapped, Viorel having to go save them. It was only the first incident of many with Amedeo, and he slowly got worse, making everyone really uncomfortable and staying away from him.

Eden didn't want to sit by and watch this happen to her friend, so she tried asking it what was going on. It responded by attacking her, sending her on a trip to the hospital.

It was fine. It was ok. That was her fault, really. She should've known.

Amedeo was kicked out of the gamer club (she hadn't wanted that but she wasn't there to vote on it). Apparently he never went back to his apartment. Some time after his disappearance, Aiden died. She wasn't there when it happened. Viorel said it was Amedeo.

It was... it was fine. It was ok. It was awful. It hurt so much. Awful things kept happening to the people around her and she couldn't do anything about it. Her sibling was dead, it was getting so hard to breathe anymore.

It was fine. It was ok. Aiden... "survived" in a way. They came back as a ghost days later. Stuck in a computer, yeah, but they could still talk. They were still here. It wasn't fair of Eden to stay upset for long, not when Aiden was having the WORST time coping with their new form. So she puts on a smile and acts just like she did before. Everything's going to be alright. Even if she has to be the only one acting like it is.

More time passes. One day, she stares at the back window and finds... Amedeo. He's a mess. He looks like he's been hit with a truck, or like he's been sleeping under a bush the last several days. Frantically, Eden runs outside, chasing him down when he tries to run from her, and pulling him in for a hug. It was alright. It was going to be ok, she promised. How long has it been since you've eaten, do you need water, you can take a nap in one of the fancy beds, I promise I won't let Viorel hurt you I know you're worried, I missed you, I was worried about you, please come inside.

As time passed, things became comfortable again. Amedeo had really changed for the better and was trying so hard to make things right. Viorel built Aiden a new robotic body for them to haunt, and they were getting used to it well. The gamer club was getting back together. Eden, Viorel, and Aiden took a trip to the monster realm to learn more about Viorel's past after his sister showed up looking for him. Eden didn't... really understand what happened. Viorel was pretty upset, but she didn't know why. Just as always, she felt like she was missing something everyone else understood. This wasn't her story, after all. She was just there to smile and remind everyone it was going to be ok. She was a bright spot for them. She knew that. They returned to the human world, some new friends in tow, and things were back on track for a while.

It was fine. It was ok.

In the almost 2 years since all of this began, Reverie was the first person to ever ask her that.

Eden and Reverie begin hanging out a lot after that. Not just for the shoulder to cry on, they really do enjoy each others company. They got close, closer than Eden had ever felt with anyone. It felt... odd. She was having a really hard time naming her feelings for them. She cared about them but something was off. It was really hard to know what was nagging the back of her head. They kept bringing up weird existential ideas, never enough for a full conversation, but they really did have strange ideas about how the world functioned. She kind of liked it though. It was fun to consider the possibility. That maybe none of it was real. What a relief that could be...

"Hey. I want to show you something" Reverie told her one day. They guided her to a private room, making doubly sure no one was around. Confidently, they held out their hand. Above it, floating and glowing softly, was... a menu.

Save, load, quit, settings. A video game menu. Above their head, "player 2".

None of it was real.

Reverie is player 2 of the video game known as "In A Manor Of Speaking". They've played this game hundreds of times. Player 1... Viorel, had left them a long time ago, and has no memory of the nature of the world. So Reverie alone had been restarting the game over and over, trying to find a path that would let them finally beat the final boss and escape the game. If they could just win, they'd finally be able to leave and reenter the real world. 100% maxing out Eden's friendship level was one thing they still hadn't done, until now. They had a good feeling about this one. They were sure of it.

An NPC. That's all she was.

It made sense. She'd always felt that way. She wasn't even important to the plot. She knew it. Of course it'd take them this long to try maxing out her friendship, she was always just a background character. None of it was real. None of it mattered. She was doing such a good job of playing her role, wasn't she? A perfect side piece in a story that isn't hers.

She went along with it. Her odd feelings about Reverie made sense now, that wasn't fully her... she was programmed to feel that way. But she still cared about them. She still wanted to help. Shoving down all the thoughts, it felt so. Easy. To dedicate herself to their goal. She loved them, she cared about them, she hated them, she looked up to them. Something about them was magnetizing and she didn't want to leave. Of course. Of course she'd help. She knew now, that's what she was supposed to do. What a relief. None of it had ever mattered. It was a kind thought to her.

Now she was able to see the save points, the HP bars above peoples heads, sometimes she caught glimpses of dialogue boxes as Reverie spoke to people. They introduced her to someone very special that only the two of them could seem to see. Elysium. She was an AI made for the game to keep it running properly, and to rewrite bits of code, to expand the world they lived in. The game was always evolving because of her. Elysium acted rather cold and grumpy a lot of the time, but there was an undeniable warmth to her that Eden admired.

Knowing about the game was terrifying, but the time she spent with Elysium and Reverie... It was wonderful. She finally felt like she was somewhere she belonged. She never felt so special than when she was with them. It was fun, to be part of the game. It was the happiest she felt in a long time.

...Right?

She still didn't smile much anymore. Reverie dismissed her various concerns often, saying it was fine, she was an NPC, she wouldn't get it. There was always this look in their eye that gave her chills. Reverie would tell her to fight that monster, it's for the EXP. When she protested, they'd tell her, what's the problem? None of this is real. I'll probably have to reload anyways, so none of this will matter in the end. Reverie would get themself in dangerous situations over and over. When Eden was worried about them, Reverie never understood. If they died, they just come back, it wasn't a big deal.

They never really did look at her, or Elysium. Every movement they made felt scripted. Every word, carefully planned. None of it mattered, to them. If Eden was uncomfortable, what did it matter? She wasn't real. She wasn't real. She knew she wasn't real.

But it was fine. It was ok.

Months passed in a blur. Eden hadn't spent much time with her other friends the entire time. She wasn't even sure what they were up to. It didn't matter. They wouldn't have changed their actions if she tried. That was never her choice. But it didn't matter. It was time. Just her and Reverie, and the final boss.

As Reverie rambled about the plan, Eden silently stared down at her palms, as always. She was so... afraid. Worried. She wished she could just give herself some reassurance. ...And the game's menu silently popped up in her hands. It held Reverie's save. ...It wouldn't hurt, she thought. She pressed the save button. It gave her a little comfort.

It was so hard to focus she hardly noticed they were in the battle with Engel now. When had they...? It didn't matter. Reverie was shouting at her, and she snapped back into reality and joined the battle, sword in hand. Engel's blank eyes stared right past her, entirely focused on Reverie. Eden, took a step, and found herself behind them. Time seemed to slow. She didn't remember getting this close to them so quickly. But it was her chance. It was her time. She raised the sword, and brought it down.

Engel's head rolled to the floor, their body collapsing next to it. Reverie and Eden froze. Neither of them dared to breathe. Eden couldn't see anything but the blood on her sword. She nearly dropped it with how heavy it suddenly felt. But quickly Reverie's arms were around her. They picked her up, yelling in excitement, looking more happy than she had ever seen them. They smiled at her so genuinely, and everything melted away. That was all she wanted. She laughed too, the image of Engel's headless corpse disappearing from her mind, losing herself in the relief. It was all over.

The area around them faded to black and white, "THE END" appearing a few feet in front of Reverie. They dropped Eden, and ran towards it, reaching for the "quit" button. And then it was gone. The quit button disappeared right before they could hit it. Leaving only "Restart" and "Reload" beside where it had been.

Eden couldn't see Reverie's face from where she was, but she could feel the chill radiating from them. They were frozen place, the room silent. Then they laughed, something hollow and empty. Then louder, crazed and desperate. They collapsed to the floor, their laughs and sobs intermingling so well Eden couldn't tell the difference between them. She tried to reach out to them, but before she could reach them, she heard them speak.

"If I can't leave, then this world might as well rot."

A folder icon flashed above their now outstretched palm and they reached into it, crushing the code within. Eden immediately felt dizzy. The world began to crumble around them, glitching out in bright colors, awful noises emanating from the edges where nothing but void lay beyond. Eden could see flashes of other places, other people. The world was collapsing in on itself as Reverie laughed. It was so hard to think. It was so hard to be. Eden reached for her sword. It didn't want to stay in her grasp, but her resolve solidifying, she forced it in her hand.

Reverie turned toward her just in time for the blade to pierce their chest. They stopped, in shock, for a struggling heartbeat.

They laughed. They grabbed Eden's hands and pulled, plunging the sword farther through their back, and putting Eden's face closer to theirs. "Do you think this matters?" they taunted through wheezing breaths. "I'll just come back! I always have. I always will! This means NOTHING Eden!"

They stood there for what felt like eternity. Eden didn't know what to say and could barely even see them through the tears in her eyes. But slowly, slowly, Reverie's laugh trailed off. And their face betrayed a sudden hint of fear.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened as their breath hitched again and their legs gave out, dropping them to the floor. Nothing happened as they coughed up blood weakly. Nothing happened. Their HP had already dropped to 0. It never took this long. Nothing happened. Frantically they opened the menu.

It was Eden's save. No, it was Reverie's. No... the names switched back and forth, never settling in place for long. "WHat did yoU DO?" they tried their best to shift their position despite the unbearable pain, looking for Eden. They spotted her in front of the "THE END" screen, processing what she was doing moments too late. She reloaded, and everything went black.

Through a painful haze of noise and color, Eden could hear Elysium's voice. "Do you see what you've done, Reverie?" "pl...ease..." "How the hell am I supposed to fix this?! Look around you Reverie! Look what you've DONE!" "ple.....please...pl... please" "I can only think of one way to fix this. I'm going to delete you. I hope you had fun in the time you were here."

"NO!" Eden screamed out. She didn't want this. But it was all she could do as she finally slipped into what could only be compared to unconsciousness.

She awoke who knows when on a couch in Elysium's room. After making sure she was ok, Elysium explained. She explained everything. Eden trying to reload a save she made when she wasn't even a player freaked out the game so bad, on top of the code Reverie had destroyed... it was a mess. Elysium had stabilized it. Reverie was... well, not really alive, but not really dead either. They were stuck somewhere in between, in the moment they would have died if they hadn't been a player who's supposed to reload if their save wasn't corrupted. But Elysium could fix it, she was sure she could.

Eden asked if this was how this was supposed to go. Elysium sighed, and said yes.

Eden's route in the game wasn't always like this. But Reverie had become so fixated on finding their exit and treating the world around them like nothing but a toy. Elysium hadn't known what else to do. So she rewrote the code, the story, she rearranged the narrative, so Eden would be learn about the game. So she would start to glitch out the system. So she could be invisible to Engel's eyes because she was glitching out so badly, so she could finally be the one to end the game. So Reverie would finally see there was nothing else. This world was all their was.

It was never about Eden.

None of it had ever had anything to do with her.

The narrative had been rewritten just for her. The months of pain. The horrible state Eden had found herself in, agreeing to Reverie's views of the world. That she was worthless. That she was nothing. That this world was a prison. All the sweet moments, all the comfort Eden had felt in those fleeting scenes. It was all for her. None of it was for her. It was always about Reverie. She was one more piece in this awful play.

Eden bid Elysium farewell, and went home.

[danascullysjournal]

If You Will Let Me

A Post-Milagro X Files Fic

TW: Medical trauma, near death experience, sedation, visit from the dead, mentions of demons

___________________

Chapter 20: Tethered

There is a plane between death and life, a haze of struggling where the soul is suspended.  Battered by tempests unseen, haunted by visions of what was and what could be, the spirit is tethered to a silkworm’s thread, swung on a pendulum.  

Toward the darkness.

Toward the light.

In the darkness, velvet waves pummel and formless voids gape in hunger. The stench of death wafts from their depths.  They wait.  Ravenous.  They beckon in earnest. 

They promise peace.  But they have no peace. 

 They promise safety.  They are not safe. 

But what can the spirit do, adrift in this ocean, without a compass, without a rudder, at the mercy of currents and the strength of the thread?  The soul cries out for an unseen savior, a way to be pulled from mouths that would devour.  To be gathered and bound up, a castaway returned, restored to what was.  Pulled safely, securely into the folds of light. 

The hours passed.  The pendulum swang.

It was disorienting.  The space in which Scully found herself was not truly anywhere.  She knew that much. 

But the voices enveloping her, or inside of her, were insistent.  Insistent and real.  

Their desperation, their hunger spurred her on.  Giving in to the darkness would only guarantee her damnation.  And his victory.  As much as the cavernous spaces yearned to pull her in, she wouldn’t go.  God, she couldn’t. 

The thread wavered, drawing her along aimlessly, a faceless soul through battering gales.   

She felt him near, somehow, even though he wouldn’t, or couldn’t, manifest as he had in her apartment.  How much of himself had he woven into her?  She was infected.  Stained.  

She tried to cry out, but found her throat was sand.  

The cord twisted.  It spun.  

She saw a hint of light.  

Pale, thin glimmers on an otherwise formless, shrouded horizon. 

Another voice began alongside the sounds of hunger.  Calling to her.  Intent, but with a different tone than the mouths that wanted to consume.  

This sound was kind. This voice had hope. 

Dad?  Dad!  

How many years had it been?  She tried to reach out, but had no control of her arms. Tried to call to him, but could not find her words.  Tried to find him- somehow- but her body felt nothing save the emptiness of this barren plane of existence.

She choked, the absence of breath, the absence of self striking panic. 

Dad!

“I’m here, Starbuck.  I’m here.”

She wanted to yell for him.  Cry out to him.  Hug him, one last time. 

But he was nowhere and everywhere, and her mouth was mute.  

Are you real?  She wanted him to be.  More than anything. 

“This part of me is.”

You… pulled us out of the house.  You came for me.

“How could I not?  How could I not come for my little girl?”

The flood of loss, of undying love was overwhelming.  It suspended them both in a cocoon of bittersweet silence.  

Dad.  How did you know?

“You will be amazed, someday, at what we get to know. What we get to see, and do, when we are needed. That’s why I’m here now.”

I do, I do need you, Dad.  I’ve missed you so much, I thought I could never talk to you again… and you’re here and I just…  

She felt like a desperate little girl.  She wished she could cry, just to ease the torment inside herself.  But she was bound up, inside and out.  Powerless.  It made her ache all the more. 

“You won’t stay here.  You’re my fighter.  Remember?”

How can I fight what I can’t see?

His voice seemed nearer, somehow.  She could almost smell his aftershave, she thought.  

“You don’t.  Not alone.   You have to decide, Dana.  Decide what you’re willing to fight for.  And I hope you make the right choice.”

What is the right choice?    

“I always chose myself, Dana.  And my orders, and my job. All the accolades, all the rewards, remember?  And I was given permission to come to you, to tell you that is not enough. Not to really live.”

That doesn’t make sense. 

“It does.  You’re just still afraid to admit it.  I left with things undone, sweetheart.  I was certain that what I did was enough.  I was strong, your mother was strong, I made you kids strong.  You were strong because you had to be.  Because I wasn’t really there for you to rely on.”

If she could breathe here, if she could speak, she would have screamed at him.  As much as she knew his words were true, his confession tore open a flood wall inside her.  The sudden deluge of denial and bitterness was too great.

Don’t say that!  You were there, Dad, you were.

“I tried to be, sometimes.  But I was torn.  Blinded by what I thought was important.  But ask your mother, when you get home.   Ask her about the forgotten anniversaries.  And the birthdays I missed, for trainings or ceremonies.  Remember who helped you with your homework, and your big projects.”  His voice was sad.  “I had a lot to do… a lot I thought was more important… She was always so, so good.  Forgiving.” He paused, his silence pained.  “Service has a cost.  Service to our country.  Or to the FBI.   We choose where to place our time, our trust.  That’s what shows love.   I didn’t give your mother… or you kids… I didn’t give the time you deserved.  When you go back, please tell her I’m sorry.  You have to tell her that.  I’m so, so sorry.”

If a voice could carry weight, if it could bear upon another with a touch, she would swear she felt him holding her with only his soft timbre. 

She desperately wished she could hug him back. 

I love you, Dad. 

“I love you, too.  So much.  Listen to me, Starbuck, I want you to know, it is possible to love and be strong.  What you’ve been doing, carrying all this.  Fighting alone… you don’t have to.  Sometimes being strong alone… it isn’t possible.  It isn’t what’s best.  I wish I had known… wish I had acted on it more.  I wish I had shown you all how important you really are.” 

You sound like Mulder.

“And I can tell you don’t think that’s a bad thing.  Make the right choice, Dana.   Don’t wait till it’s too late.  You can't get the time back.  And don’t forget, I’m here.  Always.  In your corner.”

But Dad, wait—

The pendulum swung. 

The silk thread snapped. 

____________________

Opening his eyelids fully was too much effort.  Instead, Mulder settled on cracking them just enough to make out the golden glow that surrounded him.  

His neural networks processed haphazardly, firing thoughts at random as he regained full consciousness. 

Good color.  Scully would like it.  

His fingers felt next to him, where her body had been resting with him the past nights.  He wanted to wake her, to show her the strange tangerine light that enveloped them.  

His fingers found cold sheets. 

Scully should be here.  She’s not.

He fought to force his eyes open, his heart rate climbing as the confusion and panic took root.   His pupils registered the plain, sunset stained hospital walls.  The heart monitor pads on his chest.  The IV lines anchored in his veins.   The nurses running into the room. 

His mouth became cotton.  His forehead grew hot with a strange, chilled sweat and his stomach turned without warning.  He bolted upright and managed to twist his body in the hospital bed before he vomited onto the floor, and the shoes of a nurse. 

“Oh…gaw..m’s’ry…”  The apology slurred out.  His tongue felt thick and unfamiliar.  

The dark haired nurse smiled slightly at him.  “It’s okay, really.  Not the worst thing I’ve had happen.”  While the other nurse helped clean him up and lay him back on the pillows, the dark haired nurse wiped her shoes off with a towel.  

“Fox, is it?  My name is Beth,” she continued.  “And this is Abby.  We’re here most nights.  When they brought you in, they told us we have to keep an extra eye on you.  They had to sedate you to get you to rest.  Sounds like you’re trouble.”

Mulder couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.  Even if she were serious, he couldn’t form a coherent rebuttal.  He managed a shrug instead.   Yes, he did seem to be trouble, he supposed.  His bosses and exes would all vouch for that.  

Abby was changing fluids in the IV drip.  Mulder eyed her.  Her hair curled, like Samantha’s.  He found himself suddenly leery of these two strangers.  They could be another demonic ruse, for all he knew. 

“So we will be just outside your room at the nurse’s station, and will come in and bother you, probably more than you want.  They said you can’t be alone.” There was a strange tone in Beth’s voice.  Irritation, Mulder decided.  Or distain.  “Anyway, ER bandaged you up nice, so we’ll just be here to change gauze, check your fluids.  You’ll be out of here in no time.”  Beth patted his hand and turned to leave. 

“Where’s’ssshhh,” he managed.  

Beth blinked.

“Wurrrss’shee,” he tried again.  

“Oh, oh.  Where is she…”  She glanced at Abby, a pensive look on her face.  

He felt his panic building again.  

Abby scrambled to tamp down his worry.  “Sir, we have to keep all patient information confidential.  But I promise you she’s alright.”  She offered a kind, reassuring grin. 

Beth pursed her lips and gave Abby a disapproving look, then glanced back at him.  “And that’s all we can tell you, sir.  We shouldn’t even tell you that much.”  Her glare settled back on her colleague. 

Mulder’s heart rate slowed on the monitor.   He nodded, a small smile on his lips. 

Scully is alive. 

“Get some rest.”  Abby finished making notations and both nurses turned to leave.  “You’ll feel much better tomorrow.  Promise.”   She offered another polite smile over her shoulder.  

He was so, so tired.  Sedated?  Given how his body felt, it was entirely plausible.  As his eyes drifted closed, he heard Beth from the hallway.  

“They told us it’s a DV case!  Everyone’s been talking about it!  What were you thinking?”  Her words hissed through her teeth. 

“He was worried, Beth.”

“Maybe.  Or maybe he’s acting.  Don’t give any more information or you’re gonna get yourself fired.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I’m serious!  You do it again and I’m reporting it.  I’m not going down with you just because you think a guy is nice.” 

Though his head was still foggy and stomach still swimming, Mulder’s mind was clear enough to register the weight of their words.  So much for getting help from anyone here.  Maybe once his brain fog lifted he could…. 

The fresh dose of sedatives in the IV took over as dusk began to settle into the corners of the room.

Fox Mulder fell into a dreamless, leaden sleep. 

____________________

“Dad!”  Scully’s hoarse voice cut through the monotonous beeping of the monitors.  Her eyes flew open as she gasped in air.   It was sick-sweet and plastic.  

Her fingers found an oxygen mask.  Beeping monitors behind her hammered out her elevated heart rate.

Fumbling, she pulled at the mask.  It caught, hindered by her hair tangled in the elastic.  A nurse ran into her room before she managed to remove it.

“Dana?  You okay?”  The panic of inexperience stained the young man’s voice.  He hurried to her side in an attempt to calm her.  Once he secured the mask once more, he eased her back down to the pillow.  “It’s good to see you awake, at least.”

“I heard- I swear he was here.”  Scully’s eyes searched the dimly lit hospital room.  

“Who?”

She blinked back the emotion she felt bubbling to the surface.  

“Who was in here?” 

She shook her head.  “It must have been a dream.”

There was certainly no way she could explain what she had just experienced to anyone else. 

“That would make sense,” the nurse said.  “You’ve been through a lot, bad dreams can come from that.  It’s good to see you so alert.”

Scully felt ill at ease.  Her medical mind struggled to process, to make sense of where she was and what had happened.  She didn’t remember going to the hospital, but she could deduce why she was there easily enough.   What she couldn’t reconcile to herself was the fact that she was alive.  After feeling them entering her body… after deciding she was too tired to fight anymore… she should be… dead?  Part of them?  Definitely not sitting here, she was sure of that much.

She knew that she had her father to thank for that. 

 “Could I… Can I talk to a doctor, or at least see my chart?”  She tried in vain to sit up.  “Please, I’m a doctor.”

The young man studied her face seriously.  “You have been through a lot,” he repeated.  “And you’ve been unconscious.  You are really lucky.”  He nodded toward the mask on her face.  “Oxygen, obviously.  Keep it on. Keep resting.  Your body needs it.  The doctor will be in to make rounds in the morning, and you can talk to him then.  The last thing you need is more stress on your mind or body right now.”

“You said I’m lucky.”  She sounded strange to herself, muffled through the mask.  “What about my partner?”

“Partner?”

Her stomach dropped.   She took a breath to steady herself.  “Yes, Fox Mulder.  He would have been with me.”  

The nurse shook his head apologetically.  “I don’t know that name.  I’m sorry.”

Panic seized her.  “I have to find him, you have to let me go!” 

She began pulling at the mask again, but the nurse grabbed both of her hands.  His face bent down to hers, his eyes serious.

“Listen.  This is a big hospital, and you’re in the intensive care unit.  Your partner is probably in another area.  You need to stay here until we can be sure you’re alright, okay?  You’ve been unconscious for a couple days.  You lost so much blood they had to do a transfusion.  But they don’t know how on earth you lost it.”  His brow was furrowed with worry, or pity.  “I don’t know what all you went through, but I can tell it wasn’t fun.”

Scully shook her head slowly, reeling at this new information.  “No.  It wasn’t.”  As he let go, she let her hands fall to her sides.  Bewildered.  Defeated.

“My name is Jordan, I’m here all night.  I can stay here for a bit, till you go to sleep?  Would you like that?”

He was no Mulder, but she didn’t want to be alone.  She nodded softly. 

“Yes, please.” 

Jordan pulled a chair close to her bedside.  She sighed, irritated that her body was so weak and worn.  Still, she was thankful for the company.

“How long have you been working here, Jordan?”

The nurse ducked his head in a boyish fashion.  “This is actually my first year working.  But I completed my clinicals here, too.” 

“Mm, good for you.”  She smiled at him.  “You chose a good line of work; you'll help lots of people.  So you're pretty familiar with the hospital then?”

The nurse nodded. 

“Would you do something for me, please?”  In spite of herself, Scully felt her eyelids getting heavy again.  Her body felt utterly spent.  

“I’ll try.”  His voice was wary. 

“Can you find out if my partner is okay?  Fox Mulder.”  Her eyes were desperate.  “I need to know.  We were attacked, and I want- just, please find out if he’s here, if he’s alright.”  Her jaw clenched tight against tears that threatened.  I need him to be alright.

Jordan nodded, holding her gaze.   “You know I can’t give you personal information… but I can see if he’s here.” He gave a smile. “I promise.” 

The relieved grin she returned was faded from fatigue.  “That’s all I want, thank you.  Just to know he’s safe.  He’s… he’s a good friend.” 

Her father’s words wavered in her subconscious as she began to drift off. 

You’re right, Dad.  I know you’re right. 

____________________

Footsteps on the tile floor roused Mulder.

He took great care to turn his head like the hour hand, wary of startling the staff or making himself throw up again.  

“How are ya feeling?”  Abby’s kind face studied him through the dim light.

He rolled his dry tongue in his mouth as he stared at her.  His eyes darted toward the doorway, then back.  She was alone… which either meant the nurse was really here alone, or… He felt a low panic begin to creep in.  If it was indeed the demons again, he was hardly in a position to resist.   He swallowed thickly, moving his mouth in an attempt at words.  

“Behht?”  He groaned to himself.  Stupid sedative.

Abby grinned.  “Beth?”

“Mh- hmm.”  He kept his eyes fixed on her, watching for a shift, a telltale murmur in the planes of her face. 

She let out a small laugh.  “She’s not your favorite, is she?”

Mulder grunted.

“She’s on break,” she shrugged.  Her long brown curls moved with her shoulders. “I figured now was a good time to check in on you… I dunno.  She’s a good nurse.  She just makes her mind up about people pretty quick.  But I like to decide for myself.  Just because you hear something about someone doesn’t mean it’s true, ya know.”  She offered another smile.

Mulder licked his cracked lips.  “No more.  No, no more sedttiff.”  He glared at the IV bag to make his point. 

She shook her head.  “No, we don’t do that unless it’s absolutely necessary.  That was supposed to be the last round.   As long as you promise not to go crazy and try to hurt anyone again.”

He scrunched his nose and brow in confusion. 

“You don’t remember?”

He slowly shook his head.

“Huh.  Well, I wasn’t here when they brought you in, but the report was that you were pretty upset.  Fighting the paramedics.  Saying crazy things.”  Her eyes were filled with sympathy.  “You must have been in shock, I guess.  You look like you’ve been through a lot.”  She studied the cuts on his face, his bandaged hand. 

“Mhm.”  He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering Padgett’s hollow, hateful stare, Scully’s terrified face…  the darkness filling him.  “T’ tried’t’take us.”

Abby’s eyebrows furrowed.  “Take you?  So you- you didn’t hurt the other patient.”  The relief was evident on her face. 

“Never.”  He wished he could explain himself more, so this nurse could understand.  Scully was his only reason to keep going.  The thought of hurting her was unconscionable. 

“I knew you weren’t that kind of guy.  Who did this to you?” 

Mulder blinked, considering his next move carefully.  She seemed trustworthy, but if she felt he was crazy or dangerous…  He examined her kind face, framed by long curls that were tucked back in a loose, messy ponytail.  A glint of metal flashed from one earlobe that peeked through her hair.  

He squinted.  A cross earring.

She squinted back at him with a small grin.  “What?”

“Umm…”  Mulder struggled to sit up, fighting the residual dizziness.  “D’you b’lieve in God?”  He could barely believe the words as they came out of his mouth.  Less than a week ago, he would have vehemently denied any plausibility of such things.  Yet here he was, tethered to a hospital bed with IV lines and BP sensors, all because of a hoard of demons.  The world was a strange place.

Abby tilted her head, then nodded.  “Yeah.  Yeah I believe in God.  Why?”

He took a deep breath.  Here goes nothing.  “Okay, an’dem’ns?”

She stared at him, her brow twisted in confusion.  

“An’demons.”  He spat out.  He couldn’t wait till he regained full control of his thick, uncooperative tongue. 

“Demons,” she repeated.

He nodded.  His eyes locked on hers, begging her to take him seriously.  She took a step backward, toward the door.  Her lips were a thin line.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mulder, I don’t want to get involved in any of that.”

“Please.” 

“This is why you were sedated…”  She reached the doorway and stopped.  Her arms were crossed, her expression pensive.  How many times had he seen that look on Scully’s perfect, freckled face?  He would give anything to see her, to hold her again.  

“Please,” he tried again.  “I need help.  Please.”

Abby shook her head fiercely and her curls flung back and forth, magnifying her reticence.  “I can’t.  Even if what you’re saying is real- and I’m not agreeing it is- even if it is, how could I possibly help?”

Mulder spoke slowly.  “Y’don’t understand.  Th’want me.  An’ her.  Not you.”  He kept his eyes locked on hers, pleading.  “I gotta get help, an’ if I don’t.  We die.  She dies.  I die.”  He felt his stomach churning, from the sedative.  From the helplessness.  “You don’t hafta believe me, but’f you go, you’re killing two people.  Two.  Is your doubt worth that?”

The hospital room was silent for a long moment, save the beeping of the heart monitor.  

Abby licked her lips nervously, then took a deep breath.  

“Okay.”  It was a whisper.  “I don’t want anybody dead…  But this doesn’t mean I believe all you said, either.  What do you need me to do?”

____________________

[sevrai]

Armored Core

I went on a journey this year. Or maybe I should say I continued an old journey.

On July 10th, 26 years ago, the first Armored Core released in Japan. On an unknown day about 20-ish years ago a young me stumbled upon a copy of Armored Core 3 for the PS2 in a used game store.

It's been some time since I decided to indulge in a lengthy, meandering post about my loves and hobbies outside of awkward Twitter threads, so I wanna air my thoughts on the Armored Core series! (This is gonna be a long post, primarily for my own enjoyment. You have been warned.)

Most who know me online or read my comics will know of my penchant for fantasy, but not all may know of my love for the "Real Robot" subgenre of mecha. As someone obsessed with DBZ and magic, you'd think I'd fall more into the epic "Super Robot" camp of mecha anime, but growing up I felt captivated with Gundam Wing and the Universal Century OVAs that aired on Toonami and Adult Swim. They hard-wired my DNA early on. (With the Escaflowne film later impacting me so hard with it's grounded mecha and magical fantasy setting that it played a huge role in inspiring WOE, though my comic is noticeably lacking in Guymelefs.)

Naturally that awe and love for such works made me feel incredibly drawn to Armored Core 3 when I first saw it. It was my introduction to a series that I wouldn't comprehend the true breadth of for well over a decade.

I was terrible at it, both due to my lack of experience with TPS games and the oldschool control scheme, but the customization, detail, and overall atmosphere of the game were incredible to experience all the same.

It wasn't until the holiday season of 2008 that I was finally able to fight through an AC campaign, when I was gifted a PS3 and several games, among which was Armored Core: For Answer. It blew me away. I already had fond memories of bumbling around AC3, but For Answer's over-the-top presentation, haunting soundtrack, challenging gameplay, and dystopic atmosphere really sucked me in.

Along with Demon's Souls it kick-started a general admiration of FromSoftware and the distinct games they developed. After getting swept up in the excitement of Dark Souls, me and a friend dabbled in Armored Core V and Verdict Day, even playing a decent amount of the territorial multiplayer, but it never drew me in like AC3 and AC4A did.

The years went on and although I always adored Armored Core, I took my sweet time getting around to going backwards in the series. I've always been a fan of emulation and rarely used to feel a particular drive to collect physical games, (can't say the same for myself nowadays. Sorry, wallet!) but I always remembered how much AC resonated with me, and when walking around used game stores I would muse to my friends that I wanted to someday collect all of the Armored Core games in physical form.

I made relaxed progress grabbing the games when I saw them over the years, but at the end of 2022, the Game Awards hit everyone with a bombshell reveal. The show faded to black, the screen eventually being lit by the Bandai Namco logo, followed by a little red light. Something in my soul knew what was coming as soon as I saw that simple red light start to glow, I jumped out of my seat and exclaimed out loud "Armored Core!?"

It was a trailer for Armored Core VI: Fires of Rubicon, the first new AC game in ten years. It was a surreal moment that still makes me smile now.

The series was always niche, but since it went dormant From has achieved superstar status as a developer thanks to the Souls series and Elden Ring. There's now more attention and interest in Armored Core than it has ever gotten in the past. It didn't dawn on me until a buddy messaged me shortly after the reveal that the prices of the old games were gonna go crazy from the huge amount of people who were From fans but had never heard of AC, and were now interested in trying the old games.

Some were content to wait patiently to see if the market and prices would calm down, but I took a gamble and started shoring up my collection ASAP. Sure it felt embarrassing paying so much more for several of them than they were going for a mere few weeks earlier, but I supplemented my hunt by selling a few rare old SHF and Figmas.

After a few tense months of scanning listings for good prices with some very focused personal criteria, the result was expensive but satisfying;

On top of this investment I even went all-in on the Premium Edition of ACVI. Perhaps people should rightfully poke fun at me for throwing so much money around for video games about giant robots, but it's not often I can say I accomplished a goal of this caliber in my life.

Now with all the games in hand a new journey had begun; from collecting to playing. I've played Armored Core games off and on since the early 2000's, but I was only just now finally making the pilgrimage through the series proper from the very first release, alongside the huge wave of newcomers dipping their toes into the old games before the new one comes out. Like an Armored Core version of Billy Madison.

I started playing the PSOne Classics release of AC1 on my PS3, before transitioning to my PS2 Slim once all of the PSX games were in my hands. Learning that both systems used funky software emulation for PSX games I went on a subquest of ordering and cleaning up a SCPH-39001 model PS2, (which was super nostalgic in it's own right since I started with a fat PS2 in 2003,) hooked up to a massive KV-36FV310 via component cables. I even went down a DualShock 2 model rabbit hole. Every game now looks and runs like a dream on this hedonistic setup.

As of the day I'm posting this silly blog post, I am seven games deep. I have 100%'d, (all parts unlocked, all missions complete, all enemy AC beaten both optional fights in missions and in the Arena,) without any Human PLUS enhancements or OP-INTENSIFY used, and even sticking with the default control scheme:

Armored Core

AC: Project Phantasma

AC: Master of Arena

Armored Core 2

AC2: Another Age

Armored Core 3

… And right now I'm just a few percent shy of 100%ing AC3: Silent Line. Sorry if this sounds like juvenile bragging, but it's always been hard for me to focus on and finish games. My ADHD has me jumping from game to game for years on end, never seeing many of them through to the end, so I want to indulge in a bit of pride being able to spend several months blasting through these games without slowing down, and without taking any shortcuts.

Admittedly I haven't played on Hard Mode in any of the games that have offered it, and Silent Line is really pushing me to my limit demanding S Ranks on every mission, but I'm still enjoying it and hoping to finish it up in time to sample a bit more of the games I missed out on, as well as make a nostalgic return to For Answer, by the time ACVI comes out.

Returning to Armored Core 3 felt especially sentimental. Like a return home. I'm sure many people can relate to the feeling of returning to a childhood game with newfound abilities and knowledge, finally able to do what your younger self could not. Having beaten the game that started this whole obsession for me about two decades ago is a really great feeling.

I adore these games. I always loved the few I did play as a youngster, and knew that From was a consistent enough developer that I would enjoy the rest as well, but not to the extent I truly have. Despite the time and money spent collecting them, I still underestimated just how much I'd fall in love with each and every one. Even the aspects others struggle to return to. I love the FCS quirks, the turn speed, the bunny hopping, the heat and energy management, the opponents riddled with cybernetic enhancements pushing you to your limits, I even love the old controls of using L2/R2 for vertical camera movement. For all it's quirks and older design philosophies it's such an engrossing and immersive series.

ACVI will be a very different, (and streamlined,) beast. I'm okay with this. My adoration for old Armored Core will only make it easier to return to and appreciate this storied series I've gone to such lengths to collect, even after the new one releases. I trust From to do the series justice, no matter how easy it is for newcomers to jump in.

I love Armored Core, I love this genre of mecha, and I hope lots of people will learn to love it as well. I want the new game to do well so we can see more in the future. I sincerely doubt anyone will actually have read all of this, but if you did, thanks for your time. I know my rambling can be unfocused and pretentious. I don't need to put this much effort into waxing nostalgic about video games, but I miss the part of me that used to do this on a regular basis.

(I also apologize for how much my comic updating will probably slow down when ACVI drops, regardless of what momentum I can build through July and August.)