#so many more points i could argue but this is already so goddamn long no one is reading this far. i love sam and all of his characters <333

[milquetoad]

of the many injustices put forth toward the show by fans i think the most overall damaging and telling of a complete lack of critical viewership is the idea that sam riegel builds his characters with nothing more than the bit in mind. like you are only telling on yourself if you think characters like scanlan shorthalt and veth brennato are one-dimensional and depthless

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon Riley x Fem!reader - call sign 'Maverick'

Fandom: Call of Duty

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" Mactavish, Captain John Price

Word count: 5.7 k

Summary: You and Ghost have always gotten through missions by keeping in constant radio contact when possible. On one fateful mission, he sends out the call but there is no reply. Only silence. As time goes on his greatest fear is realized and all that he knew is now turned on it's head. What happens when reality hits all at once? And what does it do to the once stoic man who is no stranger to death?

Warnings: Death, death of a lover, mentions of thoughts of suicide, grief, explicit language, heavy topics relating to death and loss.

MDNI

"How copy?”

The signal went out over comms the same as Ghost had done so many times before, calling out to you over the receiver to close the distance between you both, a literal lifeline directly to you, until he could be next to you again. Instead of being met with your bright, sparkling voice answering his call, there was nothing except the steady buzz of electricity in his ears and the complete radio silence that awaiting him at the other end of the line.

Again he held down the mic button, his clothed lips close to the mouthpiece of his headset as he sent out the call to you once more. Of course there were times when he had to send out the call for you more than once, but something about this specific time hung ominous in the air around him. The hair on his arms stood up as if he were cold, but that wasn’t possible given the climate he was in.

“Come in Maverick, I repeat, how copy?”

Again he released the button to wait for your answer and again there was nothing except the crushing silence to greet him. It felt strange as if he had slipped into a dream at some point and yet he could feel the weight of his rifle in his hand and the gear on his shoulders. 

A third time the call went out and when still now answer came, desperation began to spread out through his chest cavity, coursing through his veins like an aggressive cancer to eat away at him. Why weren’t you answering him when he had just heard your voice not even 20 minutes ago? He heard you say it, Intel was secure and your half of the team was fixing to head out. He would see you in a few minutes when you joined him at the edge of the facilities property and then it was on to extraction. Now there was nothing. Why was there nothing?

Nothing.

You were no stranger to how anxious the man behind the mask could get when you both were on mission and to keep those fears at bay would always make certain to meet his call with your reply as quick as you could. So, where were you now when everything was supposed to be fine? His mind raced with an infinite amount of possibilities as the minutes ticked on in agonizing fashion until that familiar click was heard over his headset and he felt like he could breath easy once more. 

Finally, he though to himself with a nervous laugh at how silly he was acting. Took her long enough. I know she’ll be apologizing for days with that one.

“Bravo 0-7, come in. This is Bravo 7-1. Maverick…uh she’s… she’s…” 

It was Johnny’s voice that flooded through your headset, not yours, which caught Ghost completely off guard. Why the fuck was he answering for you and why did he sound so goddamn distraught and out of breath? That wasn’t the person he had been asking for and it angered him to think that he would take your headset away from you so you couldn’t reply. 

“What the hell Johnny, where is she? Let me speak to her,” Ghost argued heated and on edge through the microphone. Silence again was all he got; why the fuck was there so much goddamn silence when his world was usually so chaotically loud? Somewhere deep in his bones Ghost already knew… he knew what was happening in real time over the radio, though his heart pleaded with his mind to not let him understand yet. Just leave him stuck in limbo until the last possible second to hold off the pain.

Even though he was a man of very few words himself, this type of quiet was killing him to endure. “What the fuck is going on. Answer me!” Ghost yelled desperately through the headset.

“Maverick went down…” he heard, followed by a break where static cut in and then “…is K.I.A. L.T., she’s gone.”

No, no, that didn’t sound right. He had just heard your voice and you had been fine, why was Johnny lying to him like this? Or was it some sort of cruel joke that he had decided to play at the last second as they neared the meeting point? The Scot was known to make a few silly digs at him over the years, but this was far from his sense of humor; the mission was over, there was nothing left that could go wrong. No, maybe Ghost had just misheard. Yes, that had to be it; he had misheard because of the signal drop.

“Repeat,” he demanded forcefully into the mic.

“L.T…” It was hard enough for Soap to say the words the first time, but being yelled at to repeat them was too intense for what had just happened.

“I said repeat goddammit or let me speak to her,” Ghost cut him off with a sharp and point explosion of anger. His hands that were usually incredibly steady began to tremble around his gun and the transmission box as he waited to hear Soap’s voice come through once again.

More static for a few seconds as Soap tried his hardest to gather himself enough to quickly explain what had happened as concisely as he could. The seasoned Sargent had just witnessed something horrific, the blood was still wet upon his chest, and it was a lot to have to comprehend in such a short amount of time, yet he knew it would be even worse for the one currently yelling in his ear. Everyone was still in the field, they needed to get back to safety first before more could be explained, but he couldn’t lie to the lieutenant, not when it came to you. He would be waiting for your return and it would never happen now.

“I understand… it all happened so fast. We weren’t as safe as we thought, got surrounded faster than we could react. Maverick was in the lead and got caught in the crossfire. She went down; we couldn’t save her.”

“What… wha-” Ghost said over and over again as the neurons misfiring in his brain would not let him make complete sentences.

 

“We will be headed to your location shortly, stay put till we arr-”

Fuck these lies, Ghost wouldn’t listen to another word come out of Soap’s mouth. Without another sound Ghost’s comm was instantly shut off, isolating him from the rest of his little world as his heartbeat slammed to a stop dead in his chest. He threw down his gun and ripped the headset off his ears, pulling the transmission box off his belt with such rage. Throwing everything to the ground beside him he got on his hands and knees and began to demolish that fucking ridiculous piece of equipment with his bare hands as if it’s destruction could somehow undo what he had just been forced to hear.

Please, he begged silently as his breathing quickened on the verge of a panic attack. Please don’t do this, not again. Don’t fucking leave me alone again.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be; you were supposed to reach extraction with the others of 141 and the both of you would head back to base together, a bottle of beer and a glass of whiskey at the local bar with your names on it waiting for you later after debrief. He was supposed to see your smiling face staring back at him during transport just as he had seen so many fucking times before and he was going to take your hand into his to give a squeeze, just to make sure you were really there beside him safe and sound like always.

And now that wasn’t going to happen? How? It was routine at this point how the end of a mission would go; he couldn’t count how many times the same had happened whether it was a success or not. So why was this time different? He simply could not understand. 

Ghost’s calloused and cold fingers dug into his chest, trying to rip out the organ currently dying in its house, but they barely managed to scratch the surface of the tactical gear covering him. His head was getting fuzzy when he became conscious that his lungs felt far too empty. Wasn’t breathing supposed to be involuntary? He couldn’t recall as the air seemed to not penetrate deep enough into his lungs to get him that vital element he so desperately needed right now. 

Gone. They said you were gone.

No, no, no, you couldn’t be gone. You were just here, living and breathing and laughing, and now suddenly your flame was snuffed out just like that? That didn’t make any logical sense to him, that something so precious could be here and then gone without a trace without the entire world taking notice of the absence. No, you were still out there, he could feel it as if any second you would appear before him. How could you just cease to exist in the blink of an eye? 

Regret wormed its way to the surface now. So many things he had taken for granted even as he was grateful they were happening, thinking there would be more time later to truly revel in their importance to him. So many little moments shared just between you both that he did not treasure as hard as he should have because he did not know they would be his last with the one person that gave his life so much more meaning. How was he meant to reconcile that with himself, how much he took for granted? He needed more time to cherish. Please, he needed more time.

This wasn’t right, any of it. If anyone deserved to be killed it was him, not you. Never you. But that was the reality of life, wasn’t it? Not everything was fare and when it came to Simon Riley, it never would be. You had become the light in his dark, the pillar steadfast against his chaos, you respected and loved him through it all and did it with a grace he had never known. What right had death to take such a vibrant and brilliant human being?

Wet. Why am I wet?

His face was suddenly wet underneath his mask. When had he started crying? Heavy and engorged tears filled with all the rage and desolation he felt in that moment fell from the rims of his eyes, some burning his lips while others tumbled out of the eye holes in his mask towards the ground to salt the earth at his feet. That wasn’t right either. Crying was not something he did; he was supposed to be the emotionless monster that did what needed to be done, but this was too heavy a burden to hold off that explosion of misery threatening to end him right then and there. And the dam broke with such force it made his body writhe in pain.

He would have rather been stabbed, shot in the back, disemboweled or worse than to feel a part of his soul wither away and die in that split second it took Soap to tell him you weren’t going to be coming back. Shaking his head, he turned his vision upward towards the sky above.

“You can’t have her,” he whispered under his breath through gritted teeth and clenched fists to the air around him, speaking his desperate threat to unseen ears.

The man had not spoken to God since he was a small child, when he still clung to the hope that maybe a higher power could intervene and save him from his horrendous situation if only he asked hard enough. He had not thought about religion in years or the lies it purported, but right now he could not stop himself from calling upon the deity that he no longer believed in once more to threaten him over taking you.

“You can’t fucking have her,” he repeated louder this time as his fists balled themselves up even tighter until his nail cut into the flesh of his palms.

He would threaten the entire universe if he could undo what fate had already declared reality, he would fight every goddamn star in the sky to turn back the clock so that you would still be here and he could find a way to save you, but he knew there was no undoing this and that was the cruelest of it all.

“You can’t just fucking take her!!” he roared as the first of his fists made contact with the ground, kicking up the dirt and rocks and small pieces of organic debris. Over and over again he beat his anger into the turf until his knuckles were ripped to shreds and covered in a thick spattering of blood covered his hands. Still, he did not let up as the physical pain was nothing compared to the immense pain of his loss; he had to do something to take the edge off.

“GODDAMMIT!” he screamed at the top of his lungs with enough force to shake the foundations of the earth with the power of his anger. 

Still in the field he wasn’t safe, but he didn’t care. If the enemy found him now and decided to end him, it would be a mercy to his defeated soul. His chaotic and hopeless mind was forced to race with images that made his stomach turn: you quickly bleeding out, tears swimming in your eyes as you wondered where he was with his name on your cracked lips, choking on your own blood as it filled your mouth, your body cold with a chill that would not leave until you closed your eyes. There was no knowing what happened in those precious moments he had not spoken to you, still the images played over and over in his mind’s eye until he had to clamp his mouth shut to stop himself from being sick as he wretched several times.

It was Ghost that had killed you, that had to be it. Something he did or didn’t do that directly led to your luck finally running out and leading you straight to your death. That had to be it, he had to be responsible otherwise why wouldn’t you be here while he was? Maybe if he simply left you alone even as his heart was drawn to yours, maybe you would have been spared such a cruel and unjust fate. 

The mask around his face felt suffocating and blindly he ripped it off, unable to look at it as he threw it away. The persona that was Ghost had been a necessary evil for him during a time when he had nothing and his very creation had saved Simon in some sick and twisted way, but all that felt like such bullshit as his alter did nothing that could save you and right now it just disgusted him to even look at what was once a bandage on a gaping wound. There he sat in a crumpled heap no longer the stoic killer with an icy heart to match, but simply a broken and beaten Simon who had lost everything sacred to him yet again. 

“I still need her,” he sobbed with eyes closed tight as his entire body shook violently.  “Why did you take her from me? Why couldn’t I have this one thing?”

That night at the bar was supposed to be when he finally struck up enough courage to say those 3 stupid words that had been sitting at the back of his throat in one way or another since the day you both met and yet he had not had the strength to say until now. You had broken down his walls, the ones he never thought anyone would ever cross, and you did it all with immense patience and kindness. And he had finally realized that he could be vulnerable with you, that he wanted to be, to take that next step in your relationship that would hopefully lead to something even more wonderful. 

There had been such secret desires that maybe one day you both would leave this life behind and perhaps there would be a small flat back in England with your names on it. A quiet life after so much death; a life with the possibility of maybe little one with blonde hair and your eyes if you both decided to go on that journey together, but now all of that was gone. That wishful dream was stolen from him before he ever had a chance to experience any of it and so only a dream it would remain. 

There was nothing left for him anywhere now, not if you were gone. Everything that had ever mattered to him had slipped through his fingers no matter how desperately he clung to it, no matter how much his nails dug into it, and now you had been added to that long list of casualties. It was exhausting to have everything gentle and kind in his life ripped from him constantly and he could not take anymore. You were the last piece that tied him to this god-forsaken world. 

How could he be forced to go on now?

The members of Taskforce 141 had congregated at the meeting point and yet stood back from their broken comrade, unsure what to do for the grief consuming him in that moment. Simon’s back faced them, but the way he was hunched upon the ground with his shoulders convulsing violently as the sounds of his wails penetrated through the air was too much. They needed to get him to come with them, they needed to get out of there before more harm could be done to their group, but what do you say to someone whose entire world just crumbled in an instant? None of them had seen Simon fall apart like this, where he did not care who saw him break, and watching such a strong, steadfast man fall apart so thoroughly shook them all to their cores.

Captain Price, guilt weighing on his head from allowing one of his own to be killed, heard someone clear their throat and he turned his head. Soap stared back at him silently, his eyes stern as if to say that he would go to him first and Price nodded his head in agreement. Taking the first steps forward, the Sargent did not know what he was going to do or say, but he knew that you would not want Simon left behind and he would do whatever it took to get him to come back with them.

Noise. Footsteps were approaching.

“L.T.,” Soap called out to him as to not startle the already vulnerable man falling apart upon the ground, his back turned away to conceal his face.

“Don’t,” Simon spat with rage, “Whatever the fuck you’re going to say, I don’t want to hear it. Get to extraction and leave me be. This is over.”

Soap took a few more steps forward until he was just off his left shoulder, still enough distance between them as to not put more undue stress on Simon. “No,” he said firmly. The response was sort and to the point, but conveyed enough. Reaching towards him, he rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder, but immediately he wrenched it away.

“Don’t you dare. I said go, get out of here,” more fury, more rage behind Simon’s words. “Take the others and get back to base. I am not leaving.”

Soap had already watched one comrade fall before his very eyes, held them as they took their last breaths, he wasn’t about to leave this fucking wasteland without anyone else. There had been enough gut-wrenching death for a lifetime and no matter what Ghost would be getting on the heli with the rest of them; whatever the Sargent needed to do to help him get there, he would.

“We aren’t going without you,” Soap said gently. “We aren’t leaving anyone behind.”

That was goddamn lie and it wounded Simon even more to hear it. How the hell could he say that when the group would be permanently one short forever? “You’re leaving her,” he yelled in Soap’s face as he finally face him, his eye black streaming down his cheeks. The misery was plastered across his face and it made Soap shiver to see it. “She is out there and will never be coming back, so don’t stand there and say shit like that. I am not going back, not without her.”

Soap cleared his throat, holding back the tears welling in his eyes; they don’t prepare you for this part in all that fucking training. “Sir, listen, we have her,” he stated with a quiver in his voice.  “We’re gonna bring her back, so we really need to go, now.”

They had taken your body with them, that was good. You deserved a proper burial, not to be left on some war-torn battlefield as a casualty to be picked up later or worse. Still, even with the news that you would be brought back with them, Simon still didn’t move from his spot. He had already died right there even if his body was still moving and he did not want to go.

“I deserve to be left here,” he said with such sadness in his tone as he turned his face away in shame. “I deserve to rot right here in this fucking spot. Why the hell am I here and she isn’t? No, I should die here to set it right.” 

Soap knelt down beside his friend, getting down to his level to meet him where he was in his grief. “You and I both know that she would never want that.”

Fuck Simon wanted to scream at Soap to shut his fucking mouth, that he did not know you as intimately as that, but that wouldn’t have been true at all. Everyone knew the type of person you were; there was no hiding your caring and big-hearted nature.  He was hurt because Simon knew Soap was completely right. If you could have spoken to him in that moment he knew exactly what you would have said: to please stay safe, get back to base, that he had to be okay for your sake. You would beg and plead with him to go on and leave you, that it would be fine, and to do anything less would be a disservice to your memory. That’s what you did; no matter the circumstances, your only concern was to think of him.

He knew he needed to go, but he couldn’t; his body felt like lead and it would not let him get up. So many times he had begged for death, thought about taking it in his own hands, and just as all those times right now it overwhelmed him with the feeling again. Whatever it was that he had done to deserve all this hell, he should be punished for it as another innocent life had been caught in his disaster once more. 

“I can’t do it,” Simon breathed out the laboured words. “I can’t do this alone. If I go, she’ll really be dead and I can’t fucking do that.”

“You won’t,” the familiar voice of his Captain said behind him suddenly. “We’re here with you Simon. All of us.”

His brothers in arms rallied around him in support as Price and Soap each took one of Simon’s muscular arms and helped him to his feet. To be shown so much care felt wrong in that moment, as Simon felt he did not deserve an ounce of it. 

“Look at me Lieutenant,” Price said and Simon did as instructed. “I know this is hard, but I need your help to get her back to base. I don’t want to leave her behind, so I will need everyone with me on this and that includes you. If we get ambushed again, we will need all the firepower we can get. Can you do that soldier? Can you provide support while we carry her back with us?”

Price knew it was the dutiful soldier in Simon’s nature to follow the orders he gave him and that would be the only way to get him out of here alive. So he did what needed to be done so to ensure that no one else had to die today, not under his leadership.

Simon nodded in agreement and Soap handed him back his gun which he took tentatively into his hands. The feeling of the hard steel in his strong grip helped to ground him enough that he could feel his body again to move. 

It took every ounce of his strength to maneuver his legs one after the other, to head back to a life where you would no longer be. As long as he stayed there in the field, he could convince himself that nothing was real, but the minute he got on that plane back to base there would be no more delusions he could concoct to hide away from the truth. So he shut his mind off and allowed his body to move on autopilot, following closely beside Soap until they were finally at extraction and on the plane back.

He took his seat, not looking anywhere as they finished loading everything and took off. The tears had dried and crusted to his cheeks for the moment as he sat silently dissociating on the ride back and yet the black hole in the center of his chest continued to grow exponentially as he stared blankly at his hands. Those hands that had held you close, that had known the feeling of your skin beneath them, now they had nothing to hold so lovingly anymore within them.  

It wasn’t until they respectfully pulled that amorphous bag out of the heli with your body inside that he lost it all over again. For almost a split second he had forgotten that it was there with them and seeing it real before him threw him right back into reality. Where was his goddamn cold heart when he needed it most? Right now, he felt every single solitary raw bit of sorrow and it was all too much after holding back for so fucking long. But that was a part of the magic you always seemed to possess, wasn’t it? You brought a man back from the dead and that meant this was how it had to be; he would have to feel it all.

They laid your body in a private room in the infirmary where Simon could sit with you while they made preparations for what came next. Price himself made absolutely sure that no one would disturb Simon until he was ready, threatening harsh punishments if anyone went against his order to leave this room and the man sitting inside it alone as long as need be. This was his time and he would have it for as long as he needed, screw everything else. That was the least the Captain could do.

Simon’s body felt cold and numb as a second cigarette sat lodged between his first two fingers, occasionally being brought to his lips in long, drawn out pulls as he stared at the door to the infirmary. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do it, actually go in, and he hoped that the nicotine would dull the ache in his chest enough that he could step through those doors and make it to you.

As he entered that room designated for you, it felt like entering a crypt with how ungodly quiet and still it was. Your body was placed upon a gurney against one wall towards the back of the room, only a sheet concealing you from the rest of the world until they could lock you away in that wooden box. A chair was placed near just for him and it took him half an hour of pacing around the room before he was able to sit in it without his rapid breathing leaving him on the verge of another panic attack. 

It was too painful to pull the covering down to reveal your face; he couldn’t bring himself to look into it and see nothing of the lively woman you used to be. He knew how hard it was to look on someone you cared about after they were gone, how they looked unnatural like a doll staged as a human. But your hand was close underneath the sheet and the need to feel your touch just one last time overtook him to where he ended up reaching for it.

Simon slowly took your hand from out under the sheet and into his own: it was cold and clammy and foreign. There was no pulse, no movement whatsoever along the surface, and it disturbed him to his core to feel and yet he still held on tightly. He kept holding his breath as he waited for you to give his hand a loving squeeze and each second that passed where you didn’t just sent him further into despair. 

What should he say? Should he say anything? It really didn’t matter did it, since you weren’t even here to hear it? But he couldn’t just sit there beside you, someone who had held his battered and bruised heart with loving hands, not caring if it bled all over you, and just not speak all that was weighing on him. So, he started at the beginning of all that grief.  

“I’m sorry,” he said aloud finally to the crushing silence not just in the room, but inside of himself as well. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you; I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

He laced his large fingers in the empty spaces between your own, entwining them completely even as yours hung limply against his palm. Your hand looked so tiny in his, so fragile against his scared knuckles still covered in red from what he had done to them. As he stared down at your slender fingers all he could think about is what they wouldn’t do anymore. Those gentle fingertips would never trace the lines of his scars with such care, as if each one deserved to be loved; they would never again caress his cheek before you kissed him, letting him know he was safe in your embrace; he’d never feel them against his chest as you held him while you both slept, his back against your chest as you clung to him tight to make him feel safe after another nightmare.  

And that was just one singular thing on you that he would miss. So many pieces of you held so many memories and cherished sensations that he had not realized until the moment how hard to would be to no longer experience them again. How cruel is it that you never know the true magnitude another life has on your own until it is no longer there? Now he would have to remember the impact you had on his life longer than he would get to enjoy it.

“I wish I would have taken you from all this sooner,” he whispered to your body as his thumb stroked the back of your hand tenderly. “Maybe if I would have you would still be here. So much I should have fucking said, so much more I should have done, but I let the fear get me and it ruined everything. I could have stopped this just by giving you the life you deserved, the one I knew you waited patiently to have with me one day.”

Simon swallowed back down the bile rising from his stomach. His whole life had been tainted with death in some way and he had began to think that maybe you would be spared from it if only he took things slow, that it would keep the grim reaper at bay for longer and give you both more time. Yet here you were; fate still took you anyway and he had not gotten to live the life he truly wanted with you. That only left him with overwhelming regret.

“You changed everything for me, you know that?” the words were choked out through the welling of emotion caught in his throat. “I was a goddamn corpse before you came along and for the first time in a long, long time I began to feel alive again. I know it took some time for me to warm up to ya, but that was only because I couldn’t believe a person as fucking wonderful as you was even real. You were the reason I was still hanging on and fuck…I hope you knew how much it meant to me to have you. You were probably the closet thing to a miracle that I’ll ever get and I am going to miss you until the day I die.”

His body shook uncontrollably with grief, shoulders hunched forward as he held on to your hand for dear life. “There will never be another like you, luv. No one could ever make all the shit I went through seem even remotely worth it because in the end it led me to meeting you. What the hell did I do to deserve the chance to be cared for by someone so fucking amazing? I don’t know, but damn am I grateful to even have had this much time with you.”  

Taking your hand up to his mouth, he placed it to his lips. It didn’t even belong to you anymore and yet it was all of you that he had left now. “I love you,” his lips imprinted those special words upon your skin. “Wherever you are, I hope you hear me say it cause I know it’s been a long time coming. I love you and I always will.”

He gave your hand another long kiss before he silently tucked your arm back under the sheet that separated life from death and hurried from the room without turning back again; you may have been the one that died, but he was the ghost who was now haunted by what could have been.

And Simon did not know in that moment if he could continue to live with that.

[taivansupremacy]

Blue Pt. 2 (Robin x Reader)

Part 1

Summary: Robin comes to find you after Vickie's party, but things don't go as planned.

A/N: i was so surprised by how many people loved Blue and wanted a second part!! thank you all so much for your kind words! they really motivated me to get this out to you asap lol

CW: swearing

You jumped when you heard three loud bangs on your front door. When you moved to get it, lifting your tear-streaked face off of Steve’s chest, he gently pushed you back down, assuring you that he would get it. You were too devastated to argue.

Steve made his way downstairs and opened the door to an anxious, pacing Robin. She stopped in her tracks when the door swung open and faced Steve.

“Where is she? Is she okay? I looked around the whole party and everyone said she left but they didn’t know with who. I was worried sick.” She moved to step her foot through the threshold of the door but Steve blocked her.

“She’s fine, well physically.” Steve shook his head and sighed, “She needs some space, Robin. I’ll take you home and you can come back by tomorrow.”

“No,” She stated firmly, crossing her arms, “I need to see her.”

“Rob, she doesn’t need any more heartbreak right now, just please-“

“Heartbreak?” She blurted, “What do you mean heartbreak?”

Steve silently scolded himself for his mistake. He knew that telling Robin more information would make her even more determined to see you tonight.

“It’s not my place to tell you any of that. Like I said, come back-” Robin pushed past him as he spoke and dashed for the stairs. “Hey! Rob, I said-“

But she had already made it to your bedroom and pushed your door open slowly. She was met with the sight of your form in your bed, under the covers, and facing away from the door.

“y/n, thank god. I was looking for you everywhere.”

“Well that’s a first, isn’t it?” You bit back, sitting up and turning to face the blonde.

Before she could retort, Steve stepped into the room, about to give her hell for bothering you.

“I’ll leave when she tells me to, Harrington.” She groans, looking at you expectantly.

“She can stay,” You decided.

You had so much that you needed to say to her, so much that you kept bottled up for so long as not to disturb her happiness, but at your expense. You thought that especially after the events of tonight, you deserved to let her have it because as hurt as you were, you were also angry.

Steve threw his hands up in surrender and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“What do you mean ‘that’s a first,’ y/n? I was so fucking worried about you.” She spat, beginning to pace around your bedroom.

“Robin, you haven’t cared about me for months! I’m surprised that you even noticed that I left the party!” You shouted, tears threatening to start falling once again, “You’ve been ditching me at parties to hang out with Vickie, canceling our weekly movie nights to go to Vickie’s house,” You scoff, furiously wiping a tear from your cheek, “You’ve even been eating lunch with her and leaving me at our table alone. And when we are together, she’s all you talk about. Our conversations have all been Vickie-centered! You haven’t asked about me in who knows how long! And you know what? I haven’t said anything to you because I didn’t want to get in the way of your goddamn happiness!” You took a calming breath before continuing, “I’m tired of feeling like my only purpose in your life is to serve as a listening ear for your one-sided conversations and a shoulder for you to lean on when you won’t offer me the same.”

“That’s not fair and you know it, y/n!” She spat as she continued to pace a hole in your bedroom floor, “It’s not my fault that you didn’t speak up. I can’t read your mind!”

“God,” You scoff, “You completely missed the point but I can’t even say that I’m surprised.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that your head has been up your ass, as of late,” The tears were freely falling down your cheeks and neck as you spoke, “You haven't been able to see anything beyond yourself and Vickie in a long time.”

“I have a life outside of you, y/n. Fucking sue me!” She stopped pacing to look at you, her hands flying wildly as she spoke.

All you wanted was for Robin to hear you, to care about how hurt you felt, but the longer the conversation (or screaming match) went on, you could tell that she was no closer to understanding your feelings than she was when she walked in your room.

“But you don’t have a life outside of Vickie though, right?”

“Just because your love life is nonexistent doesn't mean you can you get to stick your nose in mine!”

Your heart stung and hurt flashed across your face. You looked down at your hands in your lap. Robin had never been this malicious before, at least not to you. She knew what it was like to be gay in Hawkins and how hard it was to show yourself to someone, especially someone you liked. You had confided in her about how you felt insecure about your lack of dating experience and love life and at the time, she felt the same. It was so unlike her to take a jab at something that she knew you were insecure about. You didn’t recognize your best friend anymore.

“I want you to leave now, Robin.” Your voice cracked.

“y/n-” She started, taking a step toward you, holding a hand out. Regret was written all over her face, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I said leave!” You fumed, refusing to let her see the hurt in your eyes, although you knew that she could probably hear it in your voice.

Robin wordlessly left the room, clicking the door shut behind her. It was only then that you allowed yourself to lay back down and sob.

****

After taking Robin home, Steve stayed the night on the floor in your bedroom. You didn’t want to be alone and he was happy to oblige. He sat in bed with you as you cried and vented about the fight that you had with Robin, although you were sure that she had already given him a recap from her perspective. He was there for you through it all, even in the weeks prior to the fight, when you felt like you didn’t mean anything to Robin and thought you were losing your best friend. You don’t know what you would have done without him. He even called out of work the next morning so he could stay with you.

You didn’t wake up until noon the next day, all the crying and yelling of the night before wearing you out. Steve offered to get pancakes for breakfast and you happily accepted but opted to stay home and wait rather than go with him. Just as he opened the door to leave, Robin appeared on your front porch, chewing on her lip and rocking on her heels. When she saw Steve on the other side of the door, her eyes widened.

“Listen, I know that you’re probably not gonna let me in because you didn’t want to last night and I was a bitch to y/n when I finally got inside and you and her probably hate me right now, but I feel physically sick when I reflect on my actions and words and I know that I don’t deserve it, but I need a second chance to fix this.” She looked at Steve pleadingly, her brows furrowing together.

“First of all, I don’t hate you, Robin. I think that what you said last night was shitty, but you’re still one of my best friends.” Steve said, “Go in and make amends, just please promise me that you’ll actually try to hear y/n out this time.” He stepped away from the door to allow Robin access before he headed out the door himself.

Robin pushed your door open slowly. Her heart was in her throat and as much as she wanted to make everything right, she was scared of how you’d react when you noticed her.

“What’d you forget this time ding-” You faltered when you saw Robin standing at your door, sporting a guilty smile, and not Steve coming back to retrieve something that he had forgotten. “What are you doing here?”

Robin’s cheeks flushed red and she looked down at her feet, “I-I didn’t come here to fight, I swear.” She walked further into your room, taking a seat in a chair adjacent to your bed. “I’ve been replaying last night in my head all night since I walked out of your room,” She sighed, playing with a loose thread on her jeans, “I couldn’t sleep because we weren't speaking. You are so endlessly important to me, y/n and I’m sorry that it took almost losing you to make me act like it.”

You nodded, finally allowing yourself to look at the blonde. You patted the spot next to you in bed and watched as Robin crossed the room and sat criss-cross beside you.

“I want my old Robin back. You don’t get to just apologize and continue to ditch me all the time until it’s convenient for you,” You sighed, “With that being said, I wasn’t exactly an angel either. I know that I should have been better at communicating when things started to bother me.”

She flung herself toward you and held you in a tight hug. You hold onto her just as tightly, burying her face in the crook of her shoulder. Your Robin was back.

“So, now that we’re on speaking terms again,” You chuckled, “Tell me all about your night with Vickie.”

“y/n…”

“No, it’s okay. I want to know.”

“Well, I don’t think that we’re a good match,” She shrugged.

“But, I saw you two-”

“Oh,” Robin’s face heated up, “You know, I had so many expectations as to what it would be like to kiss Vickie and finally get confirmation that she liked me. I expected to feel all warm inside and just so full of love, but I felt none of that. Actually… I’ve only ever felt that way with you. Aside from making sure that you didn’t get kidnapped by a drunk high schooler, that’s what I came here to tell you last night.”

A beat of silence passed as you processed what Robin had just told you, but she thought that the silence meant that you were uncomfortable or maybe even angry.

“Listen, I probably should have just kept that to myself because now you probably think I’m weird and maybe you won’t want to hang out with me anymore, but if you don’t feel the same, we can just forget I said anything and go back to being good old platonic Robin and y/n. I also want to add that I don’t think you’ll be interested in me just because you like girls but-”

You launched forward and connect your lips with Robin’s, winding your arms around her neck. She kissed you back slowly and moves her hands to your waist. Your heart leaped out of your chest as you came to the realization that you are getting exactly what you wanted for months. Robin noticed you and now she was kissing you with just as much enthusiasm as you were kissing her. When you finally pulled away, you looked at Robin with the biggest smile that you’ve managed in a while.

“I have been wanting to do that for such a long time,” You breathed, allowing a hand to linger on the blonde’s soft cheek.

Robin hummed and leaned into your touch, “Then why didn’t you?”

You thought for a moment, “There was always someone else,” You shrugged, dropping your hand from her cheek and taking her hand in yours, “Guess I just didn’t think I had a chance.”

Robin sighed, rubbing her thumb over your knuckles, “When we met at the beginning of junior year, I had the biggest crush on you. I was planning on asking you out, but by the time I got the confidence, you were one of my best and only friends and I couldn’t lose that, so I gave up and threw myself into Tammy, then eventually Vickie.” She paused for a moment, “But they never made me feel the way you do.”

You blushed, bringing her hand to your lips and dropping a kiss on her knuckles. You were over the moon and although you knew that you and Robin had a lot of growing to do, in the moment, you let yourself have the pure bliss of knowing that she was just as in love with you as you were with her. The rest would come later.

[briardatura]

Orange Side

Alright guys, listen. Hot take. I don't know how many of you are going to like this, but it needs to be said.

The Seventh Side/Orange Side Will Not Be Rage.

Now listen for just a minute while I explain. You'll remember during Moving On, Thomas and Patton both establish that Patton is at the core of a lot of Thomas' feelings. This includes not only joy and excitement, but grief and sadness. Rage isn't a part of him, you don't have an angry part of you when you list the parts of you that make you you. And before anyone says Virgil, Thomas' anxiety being a side is a result of him having an anxiety disorder. It's not just an emotion like it is for most people, it affects his day to day. On top of that, Thomas isn't an angry person... at all. He's giddy and cheerful all the time, and if he's not it's sad or anxious. It would take a LOT to piss him off to the point it could be called Rage. He might get frustrated at something, but Rage and Fury have far more fire to them than the sparks of "Why won't this damn coffee machine work?" It wouldn't make any goddamned sense if the seventh side he keeps teasing (that we've predicted) ends up being an emotion, especially because it's really hard to make a full episode dealing with just anger that Thomas doesn't even really have.

Now for the Hot Take I mentioned before. All I've said is it won't be Rage, but most people won't accept that without another alternative to fall back on (though in my opinion we should just let Thomas do his damn thing with it, we can trust him to do that much) so I present to you, these tweets;

Now THAT is episode-worthy. THAT is a part of Thomas worth looking into. An ADHD side would get everyone involved one way or another, it'd clear up things within Thomas and the other sides that they don't really get about themselves. As someone with ADHD myself, it would make a LOT of sense to have this be an episode and would also touch on a lot of things most people REALLY need to be told about ADHD.

I can already hear the arguments about what happened in the most recent Asides video with Logan but hear me out. One of the parts of ADHD that I personally despise is RSD, Rejection Sensitivity Disorder. Not all ADHD'ers have it, but a good amount do. Basically we have a worse fear of rejection and failure than most people do. We need everyone to like us so much it's exhausting. If you're not paying attention to us, we're going to immediately think you hate us or don't like us, and if it's for too long we think we've been forgotten completely. Now, since ADHD is a MASSIVE impact on your daily life and thinking, it would make sense that Logan took a good toll from this. The RSD would have hit him like a TRUCK while Remus was ignoring him and making fun of him, and he'd be pissed off. It would also give a good reason for Logan to act the way he did in SVS Redux, appearing in a "less invasive" form so the Pure of Heart and Dumb of Ass wouldn't hate on him the way he thinks they are. Also, this leaves a good reason for the fans to grasp at for Logan angst content, and you can rarely argue with angst.

As for the color, I present to you the ADHD flag. Doesn't get a whole lot more orange than that folks.

I could go on, clearly, but just think about how much sense this makes you guys. And if you disagree, don't come crawling back to me if I end up being right. But anyways, there's my two cents, take it easy y'all

[draco-kasai]

A DPxDC prompt I Guess?

So, like, I'm half asleep and I have work in 40 minutes but like what if Ra's were to FINALLY die and Batsy and his family were there by coincidence to watch as Phantom took his soul. Maybe they were kidnapped or they were investigating if Ra's truly came back. Again.

Like, newly crowned King Phantom was going over all the paperwork Pariah Dark didn't bother doing. And while doing it he finds a list of people who escaped death though a Lazarus Pit and on top of that list is Ra's. So Danny looks into who Ra's is and what the fuck a Lazuras Pit is. He isn't happy with the info he finds. Claimed the pits, formed an assasination cult following yada yada.

Pits are pools of waters that had become contaminated with ectoplasm when a natural portal accsedently opened inside. Turns out that this random dude just so happened to find it and found it could heal so he claimed it for himself. Due to the greed and amount of death that was submerged into the waters it had become contaminated causing horrible side effects.

So Danny decides it was finally time to collect the dude's soul and destroy these pits and he's not escaping death this time and Pariah Dark should of done his damn job. After all, everyone who has used the Pit has a ghost core that is unable to develop properly because of the contamination of the Pits corrupted ectoplasm and that falls under his jurisdiction.

He even decides on hunting down everyone who used the pit, so Danny being himself looks into everyone who's used the pit and goddamn there's so many people, and many of them have used it more than once. So to spare himself a headache, he decides to just get everyone who's used it more than twice and fuck, it's still a long list but it'll have to do.

So now Danny is left cleaning up all the shit Pariah Dark didn't do, starting with destroying the pits and oh look, half his targets, including Ra's is nearby, might as well get em too while he's at it.

So now Danny is just floating around the league base collecting souls like fucking pokemon cards.

Batfam is baffled and disturbed by the trail of dead bodies. Those who are alive are terrified, curled into a ball, begging for forgiveness and thanking Death for sparing them.

The group decides to continue with caution. As they near the Pit they hear people talking, well, more like arguing really. They lean against the walls of the cave and listen in.

Ra's is arguing with Danny, trying to strike up a deal with him so he can continue to live. He's obviously desperate but the Ghost King won't budge and it's making him angrier.

Meanwhile Danny is just over it already, the dude can't offer him anything he'd actually want anyway, but is humering him cause he's pretty bored. He thought this would be more interesting considering they are all assassins.

Eventually Ra's gets fed up and tries attacking Danny but his attacks just go through him nd Danny just rolls his eyes.

"Listen dude, you've escaped death for way too long and I'm just doin my job taking your souls." He just swoops in, taking the soul, the body falling over like a puppet with it's strings cut.

That's when the Batfam decide to make themselves known, cause this unknown has just killed Ra's and apparently killed everyone else they saw too.

Danny is surprised to see Batman and his group here. He's doing his best to control the fanboying, but he doesn't really succeed as he's floating around them with a huge grin complementing them with how cool they are.

This is when the group takes in the unknowns appearance. White hair that flowed as if it were under water and sparked off at the ends like fire. Brilliant green eyes. A black and white hazmat suit. Pointed ears and teeth. He looked young, maybe 17 or 18. Pale, sickly pale skin.

Batman cuts in on the boys speaking, asking why he killed all those people and who he was. Danny sobers up and floats a few inches away, back straight.

"They have used the pits for too long, so I'm collecting what's not meant to be alive." He pretends to not notice as the family crowds slightly closer to Jason. He knows who he is. He did his research on everyone who was dunked into the pit, plus he can feel the Ecto contamination on him and his corrupted, unfinished sickly core.

Batman is mad, saying stuff like "you have no right to kill all those people, who made you the judge? They should be put through the justice system where they will receive their punishment fairly" Or something like that.

Danny gets upset cause Batman is basically walking all over the laws of his people by basically telling him 'your laws are stupid, do it like this' which is the equivalent of 'Gotham doesn't need Batman, we have cops' so he bares his teeth and lets out a small growl in warning.

"You have no right to meddle in business that doesn't pertain to you."

"You are killing people, how does that not pertain to me?"

"These people were already half dead to begin with. They had no right to escape death nor to use these pits that belong to my people, of which they have contaminated with their greed. I have simply come to gather them back up and bring them back to where they belong."

"Your people?"

"The pits are contaminated?"

"Your pits?"

"Where do they belong?"

"Who even are you?"

Danny allows for the invisibility on his accessories to fall. The crown of fire is the first to appear, the green flames form the shape of the crown, sparks flying about in a calm rhythm. His white cape, clasped around his neck by a button in the shape of an hourglass, flowed down his back. The inside was a pitch black that held slowly moveing stars and galaxies. The ring on his left hand flowed a brilliant green.

"I am the king of the Ghost Zone, or as you may know it, the infinite realms. I am known as Phantom. Those who have fallen into these corrupted pits have corrupted,sickly cores of which make them part ghost, of which are my people. I am simply taking them back to where they belong and getting rid of these pits. Something my predecessor should have done. This has nothing to do with the living. Now if you'll excuse me"

Danny holds up a cupped hand. The waters of the pit begin to splash and whirl before the ectoplasm seperates itself and comes flying up into his hand, condensing and shapeing into a sphere. He creates his own ecto ball in his free hand, the color a softer green than that of the toxic green of the pits.

Slowly he mixes the two together causing the toxic green to slowly turn the same color and murge with his ecto ball before eating it. did he have to eat it? No, absolutely not, but he just wanted to freak out the bats more, and the look of horror that fell upon most of their faces was totally worth it. Even Batman's lips parted slightly in shock.

With that, Phantom bids them a ferwell and disappears before their eyes. He can't wait to tell Sam and Tucker that he met and scared the Batman.

Meanwhile the bat family is freaking out because, "What the absolute fuck just happened?!"

[foiazoli]

First Silmarillion readthrough - foreword and preface

Okay so! First post actually reading the book, lets go. For clarity’s sake, I have the second edition of the Silm in front of me, the first Copyright date is 1977, and this printing is from 2001 (I got it from a local thrift store)

Foreword -

So, the bits about it being started in 1917 and there being so many contradictory drafts I already knew, but good to get that established early. Also interesting that Chris is establishing that the changing of the texts over time can be attributed to in-universe tales changing over time here, and that’s part of why they don’t quite fit. Definitely helps establish the mythic tone and offers up something for the discrepancies I’m sure I’ll find.

I did NOT realize however that the Ainulindale, Valaquenta, Akallabeth, and Rings of Power are technically separate texts that are just included with the silm. “The number of names that occur in the book is very large” yeah I sure do know that already bud, goddamn. If they had names that weren’t so SIMILAR to each other as well, that sure would have helped too. The number of times I had to look at a fcking family tree to learn the difference between “fingon” and “finrod”......

Preface - 

Of course Tolkein would send letters with footnotes in them. He fucking would. But Chris, if you’re gonna reproduce the letter for us, why omit them once you’ve told us they exist? Commit. 

On the contents of the letter itself, I feel like I hear about a number of authors who have been growing their worlds since childhood but it felt like a more modern phenomenon? Like, the idea that they could make a book out of their fantasy world and its story is something only possible because fantasy books are so popular and accessible, so it's interesting to see that one of the guys who made fantasy what it is today was also like that, even though in his time it wasn’t a done thing to have a whole universe of lore for your stories.

“Myth and fairy-story must, as all art, reflect and contain in solution elements of moral and religious truth (or error), but not explicit…” Oh Boy so, two things to unpack here. 

First, ”must contain moral and religious truth or error” - moral I can agree with, religious, I do not. Fairy tales as we know them today are all about morals and life lessons. Jack and Jill, Hansel and Gretel, The tortoise and the hare, they’re all there to teach us something. Religion also can serve to teach its believers things, and many religious stories serve similar functions of moral storytelling. David and Goliath is similar to the tortoise and the hare in that they both teach you to not underestimate the underdog. (That’s what I got out of David and goliath anyway, if there was anything god-related in that story I have legitimately totally forgotten it) But is religious influence necessary for myth and fairy-story? I argue no, not at all. See Dragonriders of Pern, by Anne McAffrey. First book published in 1969, 27 volumes in total, last one published in 2011. Zero religion in the books. Only mention of religion is by a character who is an outsider who is amazed that the entire planet has no religion. I argue that as it contains a multitude of dragons and stories of characters earlier in time become myths to those who come later (the books span like, 2000 years and the characters are all humans and dragons) it qualifies as myth and/or fairy story despite also being sci-fi.

Second thing, “but not explicit” - so the catholicism isn’t gonna be overt. It’s still gonna be there, everyone’s biases come out eventually, and when you write something for this long you’ve got plenty of time for it. Also, I’ve heard about the dwarves and the anti-semitism, Tolkein's biases definitely will show up at some points and it’s important to be aware of them! That’s why I listed mine in that first post I made; the more aware you are of your biases the easier it is to confront them when it influences your thinking, although it’s not perfect.

Okay, so back to the preface. Interesting that he wanted to create an English mythos at first. Not sure anything in LOTR or the Hobbit ended up particularly english-y other than in that general vaguely-european way that a lot of modern fantasy is, that I suppose can be partly attributed to Tolkein (ah the dangers of reading the classics AFTER a multitude of other works in the genre. This happened to me with 1984 too).

“It should be ‘high’, purged of the gross” - dearly hoping that means that he’s just not gonna talk about slogging through mud or digging latrines or how people piss themselves after they die, and not like, cutting “unsavory” groups of people out of history. Cause the second was my first thought, and it's yicky.

“The cycles should be linked to a majestic whole, and yet leave scope for other minds and hands…” - FANFIC FANFIC FANFIC FANFIC

“All this stuff is mainly concerned with Fall, Mortality, and the Machine” - first thought, thanks for giving me the themes I’m supposed to be looking for before I start reading the book like a high school english teacher. Second thought, yeah that tracks with what I’ve seen through fandom so far. Very anti-industrialist vibes from this guy, and as someone enjoying many modern conveniences only available because of it, I somewhat disagree, but I’ll refute specific points as they come up. Fall as a theme, verrrrrry juicy. Love me a good tragedy. And then the following fix-it fanfic. But sometimes the fluffy sunny snuggles are incredibly boring if you didn’t have to wade through the dredges of despair to get there. It’s the contrast, ya know? And speaking of contrast, mortality. When you stick immortal elves next to mortal men….. Will be waiting to see what Tolkein actually has to say about the matter as I’m pretty sure everything I’ve seen has been filtered through 2-3 other perspectives first.

This next paragraph is fun, it seems to be that elven magic is not magic not only because it is intrinsic to them, but because they are good and use it only for good. An entire race? All fully good? I will have things to say about Eol later I think. But “magic” is evil when used as Power, to dominate and re-form creation. Sure fine, I can accept the premise of that one I guess. 

The Valar have “delegated authority in their spheres (of rule and government, not creation, making, or re-making)” - iiiiiiiinteresting, I think fandom has either lost track of this a tad or decided to throw it out for being less fun. It also doesn’t make much sense. Valar being the embodiment of physics does explain a few things (how the water cycle works when the sun’s a fruit carried by a “person” on a chariot for instance, Ulmo just does it) but like, Nienna? How do you govern pity and decide how it works in the world? It feels like there's a sliding scale of “how much sense this statement makes” correlated positively to “is this Valar’s domain something we typically think of as a force of nature”. So you’ve got like; Manwe, Ulmo, Varda, Yavanna, Namo at one end, Orome, Irmo, Este, Aule somewhere middle-ish, and Nienna, Nessa, Vaire, Vana at the other end. Tulkas fucks it up though, “fighting evil” makes a ton of sense as something to govern but is not a typical force of nature. Melkor and “being evil” also fucks it up but that probably wasn’t his original purpose so idk where he fits either

Hngfdfnhgjfhgfh “This is, of course, meant to provide beings [Valar] of the same order of beauty, power, and majesty as the ‘gods’ of higher mythology, which can be accepted - well, shall we say baldly, by a mind that believes in the Blessed Trinity.” WHAT did you JUST SAY about not liking allegory and including christianity in the story ???? I mean, I understand he’s just trying to make it clear the level of divinity the inhabitants of middle earth view the Valar with, but come on bro.

“The knowledge of the Creation Drama was incomplete: incomplete in each individual ‘god’, and incomplete if all the knowledge of the pantheon were pooled” and he goes on to say they don’t know anything about men or elves other than that they’re gonna wake up at some point, and it’s this lack of knowledge and difference to them that makes the Valar love them and be interested in them. Also interesting in that fandom has lost this a bit somewhere, I feel like the Valar, Namo and Manwe particularly, are typically presented as knowing literally everything involving elves, when that’s the area in which they know the least about anything.

Elves are called “first-born” and Men are called “Followers”???? Favorite child anybody? Yikes.

“The doom of the Elves is to be immortal…..The Doom (or the Gift) of Men is mortality, freedom from the circles of the world” - interesting capitalization and word choices going on here

It looks like the rest of this is just gonna be a summary of the Silmarillion and I’ve written nearly 3 full pages about only 10 pages of text, so I’ll cap this post here and continue with the Ainulindale in the next one!

[daedalusdavinci]

honestly im just gonna give u a list. anyways. bruce, harvey, eddie (easy mode), oliver queen (whore), equius, sollux, eridan (legally mantaded homestucks), tim drake because im here to cause u psyhic damage, damien (bby), and lets round it off with scarecrow cause why not. pick n choose the ones u want to do anyways -blasts u with my autism beams-

[I.D.: A man in bed, lifting his head off of the pillow with a confused, bleary look, squinting into the light being shined at him. /End I.D.]

jesus ok. this is obviously going to get really long so im sticking it all under a cut now

send me a character and i will tell you my...

Bruce

First impression

my first impression of bruce fucking wayne was actually probably when i was like four years old or something and watching btas so my batman, the batman that has always existed in my head, has been a man who genuinely cares about the people around him and believes everyone can get better. which is to say i probably got the best intro to batman you can get

Impression now

btas is still one of my favorite versions of batman there is but i also know now that there are many versions of batman depending on whos writing him and by god do some of those versions suck! but there are also nonbtas versions that are so great! like robin jason era batman. the most man of all time. or rob bat, or lego batman, or-

Favorite moment

btas bruce makes me fall to my knees and cry every goddamn time. his relationship w harley?? w harvey?? w freeze?? the way even joker trusts him to always be a good man and keep people safe, even when its him. every time bruce desperately reaches out to someone who is trying to hurt him, because he wants so badly to help them get better, know that i am sobbing.

Idea for a story

i dont really have bruce centric ideas because tbhhhh bruce has been so many different things over the years i just mold him to fit my needs for other stories. like i want to write bruharv fics or fics w eddie but harvey and eddie are what set the scene, not bruce, bc they have more firmly set personalities than him. late 80s bruce vs late 90s bruce are two completely different people, and btas bruce and rob bat bruce are like complete opposites to me in the way they wear the cowl. so yeah. the only time i might center something around bruce is if im writing a superbat story, bc i think clark is just as fluid at this point, but i dont really have as much interest in writing a superbat story!

Unpopular opinion

any opinion about batman is already tired, thats just the nature of batman. its too pervasive. someones already said anything i could say. but hey, people are ableist, so im sure this will be an unpopular one! bruce should have mobility aids. bane broke his back. you do not ever 100% come back from that. period, end of story, not arguing.

Favorite relationship

its gotta be bruharv. its gotta be. look obviously im a btas fan to my very bones and btas bruharv never stops breaking my goddamn heart. late 80s is just the same. i think ive said and written enough about them on this blog that no one needs to hear me say it again.

Favorite headcanon

bruce is autistic. you agree.

Harvey

First impression

first intro to harvey was during jasons robin era, so like, annual 14, #410 or whatever, you know what im talking about. hes just camp enough and he also gets frankly the most sympathy from the writers we really see him get outside of btas, imo. i was instantly sucked into the idea of this man who fought his way into the system because he wanted to change it, who believed in the law, but gradually became more and more disillusioned with it as he saw proof that a corrupt system would always be corrupt. morality, balance, and justice is the foundation harveys built his life on as an answer to the abuse he faced, and the way that all shatters for him is just. augh. add that to his beautifully complicated and desperate relationship with bruce and i just fell in love with him instantly

Impression now

hes like my favorite character outside of jason im fucking obsessed with him. i think im a little delusional about it but dc is so goddamn ableist with him i feel like i have to take some liberties, and he can be so INTERESTING if you just give him the room to be. also btas harvey is hot. im not taking any questions at this time.

Favorite moment

btas bruharv breaks! my! heart! that scene where bruce is desperately researching did and promises to a harvey that cant hear him that he will save him, somehow? i think about it every day. but also harvey had a lot of really good moments in tfz. i love to see a man in despair.

Idea for a story

ive had this idea in the back of my head since before i even started working on the jdau where harvey and 2f are trying to become better, sort of, or at least commit crimes in a way that they can feel better about. turning their attention back to mob bosses ala dark victory eventually drives them to team up with jason, who is post utrh and no contact with bruce and the batfamily, who harvey has no idea is even the same punk robin that once insulted his car. jason finds a father figure in harvey while harvey finds a new path to redemption (or antihero bullshit) through jason, and they both help each other sort out their messy ties to bruce. i dont know if ill ever get around to writing it- definitely not until ive gotten the jdau more or less out of my system- but i think about it sometimes.

Unpopular opinion

all of you fuckers need to go look up shit about did rn forreal im not joking. if you think 2f is an evil alter you are buying wholesale into the ableist shit dc is feeding you and its a problem. if you are going to write harvey and 2f, you need to accept that they both kill, that they both do crimes, that 2f is not the sole thing holding harvey back from “going good” again. find a different way to differentiate them. i see this in every goddamn corner of the fandom and it floors me how many of you are comfortable with perpetuating dcs ableism so long as its a “bad” disability like did.

Favorite relationship

its obviously bruharvey. (waves at my. entire blog really.) but i also really enjoy harvey and jason teamups, if that wasnt obvious. tfz changed my brain chemistry but i was like this even before that. i think they could find a lot of common ground in each other if i just ignore the part where 2f killed jasons dad lol

Favorite headcanon

i was just ranting about this the other day but i think the difference between harvey and 2f is that harvey tries very hard to repress things as the apparently normal part and wants very badly to believe in the legal system and that he could be a good person (pre acid, we see him kind of give up on that after the acid) whereas 2f embraces his anger and passion and has significantly less hope in the system and feels that he is inherently a bad person due to extremely low self esteem, because, yknow, hes the emotional part, hes the trauma holder. theyre both angry, they both commit crimes, harvey just has issues around letting himself experience negative emotions. this is pretty much the foundation for everything else i write because its how i work around the evil alter bullshit. they are both complicated (even more so than i can put concisely like this), it cannot just be 2f is bad and the source of all evil.

Edward

First impression

the first comic i ever read w eddie having any sort of significant part was hush and the joy of seeing that mystery come together and having eddie be the mastermind behind it all, as a huge mystery fan, was like nothing else. eddie was clever, irritating, and smug as all hell, with the goofiest goddamn schtick, and i just fell in love with him. the more i got to know him after that the more i loved him.

Impression now

eddie is one of the most camp rogues in the whole gallery. hes pathetic, whiny, attention-seeking, and hes also clever, annoying, and smug. i like that hes so often harmless but also has these little moments where he really does get batman on the ropes with just his brain. hes a little mastermind and i love that. hes a little creacher. hes hilarious. he has so much potential. he drives me crazy. im listening to batman unburied rn and hes so obnoxious i want to chew off my own leg. he remains one of my favorite batman characters of all time

Favorite moment

god theres this one origin story where hes reencounting his life and hes literally like rolling around on the floor whining about how lonely he is and how much he craves attention and its like. peak fucking eddie. hes so fucking annoying i love him i want to bully him

Idea for a story

ive already said im a mystery fan. when i was a kid, i read every single detective novel i could get my hands on, and its such a wonderful moment for me when batman can scratch that little itch in my brain. ive been rereading some of those old books lately and i really want to write a rddlebat fic in that style where bruce is a detective (but in a busybody way, and not in a police way), and riddler is the moriarty to his sherlock that keeps him running in circles. i can see the setting so clearly in my mind. ive just never written a mystery before and im struggling to think of one compelling and in character enough to drive the plot.

Unpopular opinion

i have learned that riddler fans deeply, deeply hate hush. the vitriol people have is incredible. its still one of my favorite riddler comics of all time, though, and i wonder if its because its written like a mystery instead of an action adventure. it leaves you with all of the clues, it builds, and in the end, the whole thing unfolds beautifully. its one of the best comics in terms of ones that show off what eddie can do and the extent of his intellect. its one of like four comics ive ever bought because i just adore it and apparently that is a VERY unpopular opinion lmfao

Favorite relationship

obviously rddlebat. obviously. i like them best when they have a sherlock and moriarty dynamic and are constantly challenging each other, pissing each other off, kiiind of flirting. theyre peak homoerotic rivalry to me. i dont like, mind stuff where theyre all cutesy and whatever, but its never been how ive seen them because im a homestuck and i know kismessitude is the way

Favorite headcanon

liam wrote a fic where eddie uses that cane because he actually needs it and he was so fucking right for that. i am 100% integrating that into my belief system

Oliver

First impression

sdkflsdjnfsdsdflsdf i HATE to admit this. but my first impression of oliver was in that comic where jason kidnaps mia and bruce snaps at ollie for his treatment of roy, and my second impression of him was rhato. so. needless to say, my first impression of ollie was Not Good. i thought he was just. the worst fucking dad ever, and a total piece of shit

Impression now

hes a communist king and he can GET IT. i have read way more green arrow comics since my first impression of him and i love him dearly. oliver fucks up again and again but he actually tries to do better. he learns and he grows and maybe he hasnt always been the best dad but hes doing pretty damn good now. he cares about and invests in his community on the local level and he puts his goddamn money where his mouth is every time. hes what a lot of people want bruce to be, tbh. i actually fucking adore oliver queen and i really want to read more green arrow comics

Favorite moment

green arrow/green lantern is such a fantastic goddamn run and i rotate it in my mind every day, specifically the part where they seem a skirmish between people and the police and hal immediately jumps in to help the police, but oliver stops him and starts breaking down the issues with that. like. fuck. do you know how fucking refreshing it is to see that in a comic. also when roy and oliver shoot cat man and then accuse the other one of missing i think about that all the time

Idea for a story

one day i am going to go as batshit about green lantern as i do about batman right now. that day hasnt come yet. but it will. and then there will be ideas.

Unpopular opinion

iii already said it tbh lmfao. green arrow is what people want batman to be. the family dynamics are way better and ollie invests in his community and tries to get better the way people want to believe bruce does (and lets be honest, how often does dc actually let bruce be the batman we know he can be and has been on occasion?)

Favorite relationship

ill be the first to admit im really fucking biased after reading ga/gl but ollie/hal/dinah. because yeah. what was all that.

Favorite headcanon

i think about grandpa ollie all the time. aaaaall the time. i think about him investing all the time in lian he never did in roy and i think about the apology written into it that he probably does say outloud, because hes not goddamn batman and he tries.

Tim (i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you)

First impression

the first tim comics i ever read were. the first tim comics ever. he was in full hero worship mode and his hair looked dumb as hell and he was a cute kid. his audacity was fucking stunning, but i was willing to forgive him for it

Impression now

wheres that fucking tumblr post thats like peoples reactions to shows before and after a plottwist where someones like “why does everybody hate this guy” and then “I Know Now.” thats how i feel about tim. the audacity did not ever stop. he carries it with him forever. he is sexist as fuck and the way he treats stephanie makes my blood boil, and he is one of the number one offenders in terms of rewriting the narrative around jason. a lot of this is the fault of the writers and not him (PARTICULARLY THE WAY BRUCE TREATS HIM COMPARED TO OTHERS AND THE SHIT HE GETS AWAY WITH), but the whole thing leaves such a bad taste in my mouth i just cant stomach tim anymore. add that to how goddamn annoying tim fans are and how confidently they mischaracterize tim and every other fucking character? i can easily say tim is my least favorite member of the batfam.

Favorite moment

i think about this dumbass panel every goddamn day.

[I.D.: A comic panel of Tim Drake where he is standing outside, partially shaded by a tree. He is wearing an oversized red sweater that says “zoo of wires” in all caps and yellow pants. He’s squinting strangely and there’s a scuff mark on his cheek. His hair is the older style of Tim hair that stands completely on end and makes him look like a clown. Overall, it’s a pretty awful picture of Tim. /End I.D.]

but genuinely any moment between tim and kon or the rest of the young justice team, i think, are his best moments.

Idea for a story

any time i feel like tim could have room in a story im writing i am simply going to replace him with duke <3

Unpopular opinion

everything ive said so far has been an unpopular opinion and im not convinced i wont be drawn and quartered for posting this. but frankly if you made it this far into this post im kind of assuming youre a friend of mine who already knows i dont like tim bc this is really long. anyway heres another one <3 tims parents were never abusive you guys just dont want to admit tim is only interesting if you give him jason or stephs backstory

Favorite relationship

its gotta be tim and kon. gotta be. they are cute. i get it. the way tim just lights up in his robin run (or was it red robin?) when kon comes to visit is. yeah.

Favorite headcanon

i love it when tim quits being robin or is never robin at all. i am a hater.

Damian

First impression

i think the first damian comic i ever read was bftc and batman and robin 2009 and the MOMENT i saw his little face. his little cheeks. oh my god. hes SO. BABY. and hes a slightly MURDEROUS baby??? even better. i saw damian and i knew he was gonna be one of my faves he was just too precious, too perfect

Impression now

hes the babiest boy of all time and i love him more than i can even put into words. i adore him. i need to read more of his comics but i have read Enough to know that i love him. i want to pick him up and swing him around like a cat. bolito de odio mi queridooooo <3333

Favorite moment

i hold the fact that he named the cat alfred very close to my heart. also when he whooped tim and jasons asses but dick stopped him and validated him before he could (crying)

Idea for a story

eventually i wanna write more stuff w him in the jdau but i dont have it all set in stone just yet

Unpopular opinion

everyone hates aro hcs but youll pry aro dami out of my cold dead hands

Favorite relationship

dick and dami (PLATONIC. OBVIOUSLY!!) is such a basic answer but it is my true answer. im not joking when i say it literally makes me cry. i just!!!! have a LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT IT. im not going to get into it all but augh. jon and dami is probably second tho their friendship is so fun and ill never forgive dc for what they did to it. also prefer them platonic

Favorite headcanon

i cant even call damian being autistic a headcanon. its just real.

Jon

First impression

jesus christ. sdlkfjnsdfsf scarecrow is a cool tool to make things happen in comics he makes for a very good villain but i have never been very impressed by his actual personality i find him very very very creepy and i do not trust him around children i think hes a little freak

Impression now

exactly the same. i dont get how big into him some people get and moth i think you are fully delusional

Favorite moment

this is the one exception alright. as the crow flies is my favorite scarecrow comic of all time its really intriguing and he is very creacher. the power dynamic is really such that you have to pity jon, he loses so much control over the situation and he doesnt even understand whats happened to him, and the one person he confides in betrays him. the scarebeast itself is, i think, one of the best batman monsters if not The best batman monster the design is so goddamn cool and jons design, too, is just absolutely great in this comic. its such a goddamn good comic i love it

Idea for a story

lmao im never gonna write a story about this bitch

Unpopular opinion

i dont like him. thats my unpopular opinion. and i dont get “the dork squad”

Favorite relationship

again, the dynamics in as the crow flies were really interesting. otherwise idgas

Favorite headcanon

if i ever wasted the brainspace to think about scarecrow hcs they would be exclusively in reference to scarebeast. but i dont.

aughughugh homestuck time

Equius

First impression

haha gross! this guy is fucking weird

Impression now

funniest fucker there is. nothing about equius isnt hilarious. i love him. hes the definition of beta cuck and thats hysterical. hes weird and gross and kind of creepy and also slightly charming in a bizarre way and i love him

Favorite moment

i dont know now its been a while since i went through his pesterlogs but he does have some prettyf ucking funny lines. in general tho nothing can top arquius. hilarious

Idea for a story

ill probably write another h@lquius fic one day. hold me accountable was some of the most fun ive ever had writing a fic

Unpopular opinion

that i like him at all tbh lmao

Favorite relationship

OBVIOUSLY its equius and hal. obviously. they bounce off of each other in the worst possible ways theyre so gross and funny. arquius is one of the funniest things to ever come out of homestuck. dirk and equius is probably right after that.

Favorite headcanon

i like my space au a lot idk

Sollux

First impression

i thought sollux was the best goddamn thing since vriska. he was snarky in a way that vibed just right with me, his humor cutting and self deprecating and just perfect. i loved his relationship w aradia, i thought they were so sweet, and he also just reminded me a lot of dave who was my favorite character period. he and karkat were also really funny. i think i also just related to him a lot, at the time

Impression now

sollux is a lot of fun as a character because hes so dry and flippant about everything. hes a genuine true neutral character who most of the time cant find it in himself to give a shit about anything, and you have to admire that. hes laid back, except for when hes not, and his interpersonal relationships are generally snarky and ribbing with an undercurrent of very genuine care and affection. he was one of my favorite trolls for a very long time and i love him a lot.

Favorite moment

when hes just lost his lisp and is kind of obsessing over it is a pretty good one. but his conversations with karkat in the very beginning are also pretty good. everythign between him and aradia too. idk, its been a while.

Idea for a story

some day im probably gonna end up writing an ersol story, but from time to time i also think about writing that pale davsol fic for the guardians au ive had in the back of my mind forever

Unpopular opinion

feferi did not treat sollux especially well and did not respect his boundaries at all. their relationship sucked

Favorite relationship

rn its probably post sprite eridan and sollux, but ive always had a soft spot for some kind of friendship between dave and sollux, and sollux and aradia is a classic for a reason

Favorite headcanon

bigender sollux ftw. see also: sex neutral asexual sollux

Eridan

First impression

he is so whiny and obnoxious but also so brilliantly crafted and he has so much depth to him for a character that stops mattering like ten pages in time to latch onto him and never be normal about it again

Impression now

and then i wasnt! i dont think much has changed about my opinion on eridan at all actually

Favorite moment

his conversations with karkat oh my goddd theyre such gossips. also im sorry but youve gotta love his stupid little anxious talksprite hes such a prick. AUGH. AND THE DRESSES IN PESTERQUEST HANG ON

Idea for a story

see the above ersol musings but also and more importantly im going to write another erdave story. i dont know what its gonna be about but im sure in a few months eri will break down my door and say something to me about them and within a week ill have churned out another goddamn fic

Unpopular opinion

this has always been an unpopular opinion but if you think eridan deserved better but you think vriska is an irredeemable piece of shit you are in fact sexist <3

Favorite relationship

its very obviously eridan and dave. obviously. ive been writing this shit out for so long im tired now and im nto going to get into all of it but just know that i know everything about them and i know exactly why they work and im right about it. but i also believe very strongly in eridan and karkat and their whole relationship with karkat being like. honestly the only person who continued to believe in eridan and cared about him when he was really going off the deep end and their friendship actually being very genuine and sweet and the like potential there. but ALSO. vriska and eridan is one of the best friendships in the messiest way they were actually like the best and strongest kismessitude in homestuck and ill never let anyone forget it i LOVE them i love them being exes that know too much about each other and use it for evil even tho theyve stayed friends after all this time

Favorite headcanon

eridan being genderfluid is BASICALLY canon so i wont even call that a headcanon bc its just true. i feel very strongly about eridan having a very unhealthy relationship to sex and relationships where he ties his worth to them regardless of whether or not he actually wants them. he IS ace and he is DEEPLY repressed about it, thanks

[tigerkirby215]

5e Pablo Simon Bolivar, El Brujo Especial build (Ash vs Evil Dead)

(Image from thedeaditeslayer.com)

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I’ve really been getting into the Evil Dead franchise after Ash vs Evil Dead was released on Netflix, and that interest only further increased after playing Evil Dead: The Game. I’m not going to preach the qualities of the TV show nor the game to you and simply say it as I see it: Evil Dead is an iconic of horror with Bruce Campbell’s iconic role of Ash Williams affecting generations of horror enthusiasts and action enjoyers.

The Evil Dead IP has lasted for so long, stretched through so many mediums, and affected so many aspects of popular culture to the point that chainsaws in zombie media go hand-and-hand. This is why I’m going to do my best to release a Dungeons & Dragons build based on one character from The Evil Dead franchise over the next 5 weeks of October, in honor of the franchise and the spirit of Halloween. (Although knowing me I’m probably going to miss a week lol.)

And who else to start with but Pablo? I absolutely loved the supporting cast of Ash vs and I honestly haven’t met a single person who didn’t enjoy the performance of Pablo. Ray Santiago puts so much personality into the character and one could honestly argue that Pablo goes through more of a character arch than Ash himself in the show. I mean, I’m not going to get into that argument, but one thing’s for certain: without the help of Pablito’s El Brujo and his amulets the Chosen One wouldn’t have gotten far. It also helps that Pablo is easily my second most played character in Evil Dead: The Game, right behind TV Show Ash (IE Leader Ash.)

Anyways: Pablo’s a lovable support character who goes through way too much for his own good, and we’re all happy you’re still around buddy. Goddamn it’s going to be so hard to avoid accidentally saying spoilers, assuming calling Pablo “El Brujo Especial” isn’t already a spoiler... Seriously just go watch Ash vs on Netflix.

GOALS

Pablito’s Fish & Chips - Pablo isn’t just some guy who works at an electronics store: he’s got a lotta brains to him. He event built Ash a new hand!

A Foot in Each Door - It sure was nice of your uncle to give you an amulet that makes you invisible to the evil dead. Pretty helpful thing to have!

El Brujo Especial - Leave the beer to Ash and Cheryl: Pablo uses the magical guidance of his uncle to protect himself and his allies.

RACE

Pablo is a human, and trust me: I wish I could reasonably make him something else. But at least Variant Human will carry us to some extent. Increase both your Charisma and your Dexterity by 1, the History skill to see if you can recall anything Ruby might’ve mentioned, and speaking of which I’m sure the Necronomicon gifted you some knowledge of Abyssal with the time you two spent together.

For your Feat of choice I’m actually going to suggest the Inspiring Leader feat! Pablo does his fair share of inspiring for Ash but the main reason I suggested Inspiring Leader is because it lets you play support some more, passing out temporary hitpoints at the end of a Short or Long Rest and generally being an asset to the team. Plus it lets you roleplay as Ray Santiago which is a plus in my eyes.

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Everyone loves Pablo. He’s your little buddy!

14; INTELLIGENCE - As stated above Pablo is the brains of the group. We need it both for roleplay and to multiclass.

13; DEXTERITY - Evil Dead leans on the “dodge out of the way seconds before you’re hit” style of horror. 13 DEX is also enough to get the maximum bonus from Medium armor along with the +1 from our race.

12; CONSTITUTION - Look: there was a point where you literally died and came back to life. Stuff like that will give you some hardiness.

10; STRENGTH - Pablo may be a big strong vagina but we unfortunately need everything else more. Don’t worry: we’ll get a way to use a spiked bat, although you won’t be using a rusty chain at any point.

8; WISDOM - Wisdom is needed to keep a level head, and it’s not that Pablo can’t do that. Just that when evil descends and the dead rise it’s pretty hard to keep calm in the face of demons from hell.

BACKGROUND

Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft is going to be a good friend to me during this month. One cool thing about Van Richten’s is that there’s a bunch of generic background traits that don’t come with specific skills or equipment but can still be used for roleplay, and one of those generic backgrounds is the Trauma Survivor background. Put simply Pablo isn’t really the “Haunted One” type but this works quite well for “holy shit demons started murdering people in the streets and this cool old dude is a prophesized hero of legend.”

The Trauma Survivor makes you a bit of a resident expert in whatever shit you’ve dealt with, and in Pablo’s case it would be deadites. Folks know to ask you for advice on what to do and what not to do, and if needed you can find a place for someone to hide out and maybe get an exorcism done. Your uncle didn’t exactly tell you how to open your mind and escape evil, but you can probably find someone willing to take you on a drug trip.

As for your skills take proficiency with Athletics (you’ll need it if something grabs onto you) and Survival because... well yeah duh. You could also grab another language (Infernal fits to some extent) and another tool, which I’m going to use as an excuse to grab Land Vehicle proficiency because Pablo should always be the one driving. (Which is why I never drive as Pablo because I suck at driving in video games.) You could take more tools or more languages as you see fit, I suppose. I won’t tell you what to do.

Starting background equipment? You can figure that out with your DM. If all-else fails just copy-paste the Clan Crafter background or something.

(Artwork from Evil Dead: The Game.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ARTIFICER 1

Starting off as an Artificer before you get in-touch with evil. You can grab proficiency in Arcana and Medicine here too.

Your time at ValueStop helped you learn some basic tech tricks that you can manifest in Magical Tinkering. The tricks you can do are pretty small and junky but they may be helpful in a pinch if you use your wits. But if you need something more reliable it would be better to talk about Spellcasting: You can learn two cantrips from the Artificer spell list like Guidance to help El Jefe or anyone else who might need it, and Mending. For Duct Tape.

You can also prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus half your Artificer level (rounded down), and while you can swap them out on a Long Rest you can only prepare two of them currently. So like, just take Cure Wounds and Detect Magic for now, really. Basic medical knowledge and the ability to sense danger is in fact more than enough to survive many horror movies at first.

Oh and as far as combat goes your best bet currently is probably to stick to a “gun” (IE a crossbow) for now. We didn’t take any damaging cantrips but your “firearms” (crossbow) will do more at this low level anyways, considering that you have the same hit chance anyways. Don’t worry you’ll be getting something better later on but these first few levels will admittedly be on the weaker end.

LEVEL 2 - ARTIFICER 2

Second level Artificers can make artificial hands and other Infusions. You can prepare 4 infusions known and make two of them per day, although you might find some use in swapping them out. Anyways I’d suggest improving your firearms in the form of an Enhanced Arcane Focus and a Repeating Shot weapon, and improving your defenses with a Mind Sharpener and... the Enhanced Defense infusion. Remember that much like Pablo you can share your intellect with your friends, who might get more use out of your inventions than you! And you’re welcome to grab other infusions if you think they’d be more useful.

Speaking of useful: another spell known! Feather Fall is good in-case of an emergency if you’re thrown off a building or your car goes off a cliff or something.

LEVEL 3 - ARTIFICER 3

3rd level Artificers get to choose their specialty, and it may strike you as odd but Artillerists get to provide their team with amulets, and provide themselves with guns! Along with getting proficiency with Woodcarver’s Tools and learning both the Shield and Thunderwave spells (one of which is far more useful than the other) you get the ability to make an Eldritch Cannon!

You can either make a Small or Tiny object (but it would be more in-character to make a tiny one) that you can activate as a Bonus Action. The Force Ballista will fire a shot at a single target, the Flamethrower is... well, a flamethrower that does AoE damage in a short cone in front of it, but the Protector “canon” is the main option you’ll be going for. When you activate it as a bonus action everyone within 10 feet of the turret will get Temporary Hitpoints equal to a d8 plus your Intelligence. Basically this is how Amulets work in Evil Dead: The Game and it was kinda too perfect for Pablo to provide shields to his team. There’s some other nuance to the turrets that you can figure out by reading the subclass feature, but all you need to know is that you’re usually going to be providing shields to the party and also sometimes get the option to shoot with your canon-gun... assuming you can actually hit since its aim is based on your Intelligence.

And to top it off you can make yourself the The Right Tool for the Job with an hour of work. I’ll tell you right now that jerry-rigging a set of lockpicks (IE Thieves’ Tools) is probably your best bet with this ability, but if you think there are other tools that will help you this ability will let you grab them as you need them.

(Artwork from Evil Dead: The Game)

LEVEL 4 - WARLOCK 1

Now that you’ve handed in your resignation letter (reason for leaving: boss got possessed by a demon) it’s time to embrace your roots and channel the magic of drug trips. How? With the magic of the Archfey, obviously! As an action you can force each creature within a 10-foot cube originating from you to make a Wisdom save or be charmed or frightened by your Fey Presence. Either up the charm or channel evil through you as necessary, but you can only do so once per Short or Long Rest.

More importantly however you get Pact Magic: you can learn two cantrips from the Warlock list like Mage Hand to grab things in dangerous locations more safely, and Eldritch Blast to blast your guns with eldritch power instead of just regular old firearm power.

You also get Pact Magic slots which come back on a Short Rest, unlike regular spell slots that come back on a Long Rest. You can use them to cast your Artificer spells, or some Warlock spells... I’m going to be honest: the only 1st level spell I really want is Hex. Other than that you can take something like Hellish Rebuke I guess, but we’ll be ignore the spells you can learn until you can get better ones.

LEVEL 5 - WARLOCK 2

2nd level Warlocks get Eldritch Invocations like Devil’s Sight to see with your dumb human eyes, and Agonizing Blast to agonize your blasts. Yeah you could also learn more spells, but we’re going to wait for...

LEVEL 6 - WARLOCK 3

Third level Warlocks get to choose their Pact Boon and I mean, we’re kinda forced to take Pact of the Talisman for amulets, aren’t we? Currently all it does is provide a d4 when the wearer fails an ability check, and the benefit can be used a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, regaining all uses at the end of a Long Rest. But what’s cool about the amulet talisman is that you can give it to someone else who might need the bonus. And additionally it stacks with Guidance, which can be pretty big at these low levels.

Much more importantly however your Pact Slots are now at a 2nd level, meaning you can learn 2nd level Warlock spells! Grab Misty Step to get away from danger, Mirror Image to protect yourself, and Hold Person to keep deadites in place! (Remember: Deadites are humans possessed by demons, meaning that they’re technically still humanoids. If you’re dealing with a demon like Ruby however she counts as a Fiend, and won’t be affected by Hold Person. Unless she can be affected by Hold Person because she’s a Half-Demon? Better not to try unless desperate really...)

(Image from cupofmoe.com)

LEVEL 7 - WARLOCK 4

4th level Warlocks get their first Ability Score Improvement (finally by total level 7) and if you haven’t picked up on we’re going to mainly be going down the Warlock route, so more Charisma would benefit us more overall.

You could also learn another spell but truthfully we’re going to be replacing them with 3rd level spells soon, so better not to. You can grab the Prestidigitation cantrip though, to show off your eldritch knowledge with some basic parlor tricks.

LEVEL 8 - WARLOCK 5

5th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation, and to be invisible to demons (and most other things) grab the One with Shadows invocation. It only works if you keep still and keep in the darkness, but invisibility from evil is great to stay alive!

You can also learn 3rd level spells now! I’d probably drop Mirror Image to grab Hypnotic Pattern (for now), Counterspell (for good), and Blink from the Archfey list, which will be a far more effective defensive spell than Mirror Image. (Although it doesn’t upscale so we will ditch that too with time.)

LEVEL 9 - WARLOCK 6

6th level Archfey Warlocks can turn invisible to gather more amulets, as Misty Escape lets you use your reaction to teleport away from danger and turn invisible until the start of your next turn, refreshing on a Short or Long Rest. Use this if you think you’re in the line of fire to get behind Ash.

Additionally you can learn another spell, and if you think we’re going to skip out on this level to get better 4th level spells to cast with your Warlock slots then you’re goddamn right we are.

(Artwork from Evil Dead: The Game)

LEVEL 10 - WARLOCK 7

7th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation and it’s time for your amulet to not be completely worthless thanks to Protection of the Talisman. When the person wearing your amulet talisman fails a saving throw, they can add a d4 to the roll and potentially turn it into a success. They can only do it a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus per Long Rest, but the added protection can be great to keep your party’s El Jefe alive.

Additionally you can now learn 4th level spells: drop Misty Step for Dimension Door as the greater distance traveled far outweighs the use of a full action, and you also might want to drop Hypnotic Pattern for Greater Invisibility from the Archfey list, to keep hidden while you blast away deadites. Heck you might even want to replace Blink with something like Banishment too. Honestly for the most part I just want to wait until we get the big boy 5th level spells to play with.

LEVEL 11 - WARLOCK 8

8th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement so it’s finally time to cap off your Charisma for the best old magic to protect from the worst old evils.

You could also learn more spells but again: going to wait for...

LEVEL 12 - WARLOCK 9

9th level Warlocks get another Eldritch Invocation, and Whispers of the Grave is very in-character, can be very useful, and is a lot of fun! There’s a lot of good info you can get from the dead: your dead uncle, your dead self, the dead that wrote the book of the dead... Just gotta know who to listen to.

Speaking of listening you now have 5th level spells, meaning all the spells known we skipped out on can now be filled up! So I’d suggest you take the following:

Hold Monster is like Hold Person, but better. (But it does affect less targets, so if you think Hold Person will work then use that instead.)

Dominate Person is like Hold Person, but better because you can get them to serve the forces of good instead of the forces of evil. (No it’s not possession shut up.)

Mislead can be good if you need to sneak around to grab Ash’s shit... again. It will also give the demons something to try to attack while you gather more supplies.

And Teleportation Circle can be useful if you need an escape plan.

The last two spells were added to the Warlock list via Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, so if you don’t see them listed on the Warlock spell list that’s why. Just figured I’d mention it here since it would be kinda weird to mention it alongside those two spells.

LEVEL 13 - WARLOCK 10

10th level Warlocks have seen enough evil to avoid being possessed. Or well, avoid being charmed at least. Beguiling Defenses gives you immunity to the charmed condition and when another creature attempts to charm you, you can use your reaction to attempt to turn the charm back on that creature. They need to make Wisdom save against your spell DC or be... well, charmed by you for a minute! (Unless they take damage.) Considering that you should probably have at least a +1 focus from your Artificer abilities any deadite attempting to persuade you will have to think twice. Ash though...

You can’t grab any more spells yet, but you can get one last cantrip. I’d suggest 

Mind Sliver in case you find an armored deadite with a weak mind, or if you just want to make it easier for your teammates to use magic against your enemies.

(Image from Ash vs Evil Dead Season 3, Episode 5)

LEVEL 14 - WARLOCK 11

11th level Warlocks get their 6th level Mystic Arcanum, which looks like a spell slot and acts like a spell slot but isn’t actually a spell slot. The difference is that you can’t upcast any of your Warlock Pact Magic, and you can’t upcast your Mystic Arcanum with higher level slots that you’ll get.

With that explanation out of the way there’s a lot of good 6th level Mystic Arcanum options but... look, Tasha's Otherworldly Guise is just fun. You can finally go in with a bat (or a sword, or a rusty chain) and hit some deadites very hard, getting an extra attack, more AC, some damage resistances and immunity to conditions, and flight! (Because why not.) Sure maybe Eyebite or Soul Cage would be more useful but even the support should upgrade melee damage eventually.

Speaking of more damage: Wall of Light does a good bit of radiant damage and can also be good to blind deadites and generally hide behind while your friends prepare to face off against evil. And if you think you’re not going to cast it well, you just got an extra pact slot little buddy! Congratulations!

LEVEL 15 - WARLOCK 12

12th level Warlocks get another Ability Score Improvement and seeing as your Charisma is maxed out increasing your Intelligence is an option? You could also alternatively grab some feats: I personally opted for War Caster to keep concentration up for longer and to also be able to shoot any anyone who runs past you, instead of just trying to stab them with a knife or something.

You also get more Eldritch Invocations! It’s hard to justify Ascendant Step as anything other than magic, but being able to slowly float around is useful for transportation, evading deadites, or just reaching things in high places.

LEVEL 16 - WARLOCK 13

13th level casters get 7th level spells but you’re special so you get Mystic Arcanum instead. There’s a lot of fun options to take: Crown of Stars, Etherealness, Plane Shift, Power Word Pain... but Forcecage is probably the most useful overall. If you need to keep a particularly nasty deadite in place with (almost) no questions asked? That’s what you have Forcecage for. But even then the other spells I mentioned have their use and you should give them a glance if interested.

Dream is perhaps less relevant, but it will let you send messages to whom it may concern as needed while they sleep. Sure this is maybe more of your uncle’s thing, but El Brujo Especial can afford to borrow some tricks.

LEVEL 17 - WARLOCK 14

Speaking of your uncle: wasn’t it cool when he put you in a coma and forced you to drink from weird bowls alongside a naked lady? Well Dark Delirium will let you force anyone you want into that trial, just like they’re in a hit asymmetrical multiplayer game! As an action you can choose a creature you can see within 60 feet. They must make a Wisdom saving throw or become charmed / frightened of you (your choice for which one), lasting for 1 minute or until your concentration is broken (like a spell.) The effect also ends early if the creature takes any damage.

Until this illusion ends, the creature thinks it is lost in a misty realm, the appearance of which you choose. The creature can see and hear only itself, you, and the illusion. So basically they’ll be lost in their visions unless someone makes you snap them out of it, or if they get hit. But it’s a good way to get some alone time with someone and to potentially lock them down if their friends aren’t willing to punch them awake. A sledgehammer to the face tends to be a good cure for possession.

(Official promotional artwork for Evil Dead: The Game)

LEVEL 18 - WARLOCK 15

15th level Warlocks get their 8th level Mystic Arcanum, and unfortunately unlike the previous levels your options are... kinda trash? I guess Dominate Monster fits the best, although Feeblemind works decently enough as well. Much like before you can also pick up another 5th level spell and... I dunno. Planar Binding works well enough if you find a demon that you want to surround in salt for Ash to talk to.

But the far more notable thing is that you now have access to 15th level Warlock Invocations! For one I would replace One with Shadows with Shroud of Shadow which is all-around a better invocation. And Visions of Distant Realms will let you summon another eyeball out of another asymmetrical multiplayer game to scout ahead and see if any deadites are in any of the rooms ahead. Maybe you’re seeing through an old friend; who knows?

Witch Sight is also a really strong invocation that’s probably far less situational than some of the other ones you have. All the other ones you have fit in-character so I’m not going to tell you to replace any of them, but it stands to reason that higher level abilities are stronger.

LEVEL 19 - WARLOCK 16

16th level Warlocks get one last Ability Score Improvement, and honestly by total level 19 you can pick just about anything you want and it’ll still be good. Get more Constitution, more Intelligence, or a feat for all it matters. It won’t matter if you’re dead by dawn.

LEVEL 20 - WARLOCK 17

We went all the way to level 17 (instead of grabbing more ASIs that you honestly don’t need) because you can get 9th level spells at level 17! Or well, Mystic Arcanum anyways. There’s a lot of options that fit in-character but in my opinion Imprisonment is the ultimate choice to seal away evil forever. Dunno how many hit die Ruby has, yet alone the Book of the Dead, but Imprisonment proves that money can solve all your problems.

Oh and you can learn another spell but by total level 20 you can honestly pick whatever you want. I guess if I have to make a suggestion you can take Synaptic Static? I dunno. But the true ultimate prize is finally having a whole 4 spell slots!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Arcane Knowledge - Artificer levels surprisingly pull their weight despite your (relatively) lacking intelligence. Proficiency in Constitution saving throws is universally useful, infusions are constantly strong even late-game, and the Arcane Canon gives you a constant use of your bonus action (mostly to shield your allies) as long as you’re good at hiding your fancy gadgets.

Fear No Evil - I’m going to be honest: the last 3 levels of Warlock are kinda worthless, so for all intents and purposes purposes you are a full caster (even if your spell slots are weird) with a strong yet situational 9th level spell and plenty of other strong magics to keep the dead at bay.

Infernal Camouflage - Along with free invisibility being very strong you have plenty of tools to evade evil and protect both yourself and your allies. Teleporting out of danger and turning invisible will keep you alive for awhile, and your amulets can keep your chosen ally (or yourself) safe.

CONS

Wicked Fast - Warlock is a Warlock and Warlock has no spell slots. You have strong tricks up your sleeve yes, and being able to replenish your spell slots after a Short Rest is very strong. But you still have a limited number of shots before you’ll be forced into Eldrtich Blasting.

Weak-Minded - Playing an Artificer with middling Intelligence is obviously not a good idea. If you opt to use any canon other than the shield generator it’ll essentially be useless due to your low hit chance, and your low-level spell slots are incredibly limited and will often be used to either make more canons or cast Shield.

Kandarian Fury - Basically all your stats other than Charisma are kinda bad? While this does mean your magic will be good anything else you try to do will be middling at best: getting grappled will be a tough challenge if you can’t cast Dimension Door, and any skill checks will probably be left to the Leaders of the group. Not to mention that your Wisdom is pretty bad, leaving you quite open to being frightened or possessed.

But you’re not the Chosen One, you’re the one chosen to help the Chosen One! That might not make any sense but what matters is that you’re El Brujo Especial and have all the tools you could ever need to vanquish evil for good. Be the big strong vagina everyone knows you can be and teach them to fear no evil, because evil should fear you! And if you ever find that you’re having trouble do know that a good night’s sleep with a face mask can always help put your head in the game.

(Artwork from Evil Dead: The Game)

[toru-oikawas-milkbread]

A Month | Week 1

Pairing: Atsumu Miya x f!reader

Prompt/summary: Fight after fight, you were losing patience with the man that you had loved for such a long time now, but one morning you finally hit your breaking point. You were tired. Tired of fighting and arguing, tired of trying to see a positive in the disagreements and tired of feeling uncared for— most important, unloved. Despite how many times your simple arguments had gone uncommented on with a simple apology from Atsumu and you forgiving him, things were different this time. This time, you wanted an out. An out that Atsumu wasn’t so quick to give you. The second he saw the divorce papers, he knew that he had to do something, doing so much as giving himself a deadline: one month was all he had to win you back over into his arms, but could he manage it?

Word count: 7.5K

Warnings/contents: Mild language, angsty themes, fluffy themes

Notes: This story was requested by @icelyn20​, so I take no credit for the overall idea of the story. I hope that this is everything that you were hoping it would be hon, and I’ll keep working on the others to keep getting them out as consistently as I can! 💛 

I imagine that because the first chapter has to set everything up, this is going to be the longest chapter in the series, however who knows. I never thought Hustler pt. 2 would be 9.8K words and yet here we are, so I won’t make any promises that another chapter won’t be longer. I’ll do my best to keep them 5K and above though!

Part 1 {current chapter} | Part 2 {Week 2} | Part 3 {Week 3} | Part 4 {Week 4} | Pt.5 {Week 5} 

<>~<>~<>

<>~<10:15 AM>~<>

“You’re such an ass Atsumu!” You yelled, a vain nearly popping out of your forehead as you yelled at the man you’d been married to for no less than 5 years now. He gave a scoff as if he couldn’t believe what you were saying, as if what you were saying wasn’t true and he was falsely accused of a crime that he couldn’t commit.

“I wouldn’t have to be an ass about it if you weren’t such an uptight bitch!” He yelled back in a self-assured way, as if he was completely justified in the situation.

“Are you fucking kidding me— how does this warrant you being an asshole? It’s a goddamn fight, not court!”

“Well maybe we should take it to court!” He said mindlessly. You looked as if you were going to say something, eyebrows furrowed inwards in anger before you closed your mouth and noticeably ran your tongue along the front of your top teeth.

“I fucking hate you sometimes.” You mumbled, turning away from the man and walking towards the bedroom.

“Ya know, yer not the easiest fucking person to live with either!” He called as you walked away, though all you did was ignore the man with a raised middle finger before you shut the door— hard. He stood there for a moment, crossing his arms and tapping his foot against the ground. “I should probably go apologize for callin’ her an uptight bitch. That was out of hand.” He mumbled to himself, though as he turned his head to check the clock, he realized that he was already late to practice. So with a huff, he grabbed his bag that he’d previously put on the ground by the door before the whole morning conversation blew up and left the apartment.

You heard the door shut, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. A bit disappointed when you heard him leave, but you couldn’t help thinking that was what you were expecting to happen. Atsumu wasn’t considerate when he was angry and he certainly didn’t know how to bite his tongue. At this point, you couldn’t even remember why the fight had escalated so much, but you did know one thing.

You were done.

It had been months since your last peaceful day with Atsumu. Things hadn’t changed right after you’d gotten married to the man, but they were now. It wasn’t a typical rough patch that you had when you were teenagers. Of course you fought— the two of you butted heads more often than not, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still love the man. You never thought that it was time to leave before. You could always think of a way to salvage the relationship, but this time you couldn’t. And it wasn’t what he said when the two of you fought that bothered you so much as how he acted. He was a petty man, ignoring you for hours on end.

Lately it seemed that Atsumu had just as many bad moments as he did good, though the good moments were always better than the bad, and yet he seemed to have gotten worse in his bad moments. Quieter, pettier, angrier. You didn’t want to put up with it anymore, and since you couldn’t immediately see a way to fix the solution, something Atsumu said came back to mind quickly.

“Well maybe we should take it to court!”

Divorcing Atsumu had never come to mind before, and now it was all you could think of. Recently, your friend had gotten divorced and she was having the time of her life alone and single again. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that was an option for you as well— maybe the only one left. If he really thought that you were such an uptight bitch, then he wouldn’t even want to be with you either, right?

Atsumu sat in his car, staring at the gym with a dull look on his face. All of the other cars were there, parked and the door was open so he could see people playing. He wondered if they knew he was here, and yet he didn’t care too much. He couldn’t stop thinking back to this morning— not even early really , it was less than 30 minutes ago.

He wasn’t proud. He felt bad. He had been having a hard few weeks and he was distant, he was taking it out on you even though he knew it was wrong. At this point, he had no idea how to make it up to you. There was something different this morning— you were more distant to the fight. Normally you would have started to cry out of frustration while you yelled back at him, yet this morning there was nothing. Merely an angry tone with no emotion behind your eyes that he could see.

Atsumu didn’t know what to do, but he was certain that a mere apology wasn’t enough, not this time.

The man blinked and looked to the side when there was a knock on his car window. Hinata stood there, a little smile on his face even as Atsumu didn’t smile back. The man rolled the window down as Hinata started to speak.

“—ey, Atsumu,” he said, only partially cut off. “We were wondering where you were or when you were gonna get here. You’re never late. Aren’t you usually the first one here along with Sakusa-San?”

“Just runnin’ late.” He said dully.

“Well come inside, we’re ready to get back to our main setter.” The man said without a care in the world, stepping back from the car so that Atsumu would open the door and get out, but when he didn’t, Hinata leaned back down and placed a hand on his window. “Are you okay this morning, Atsumu-San?”

“Just tired,” he brushed it off, giving his eyes a rub. He wasn’t so much as lying, he was tired. Emotionally tired. He was tired of not knowing why he was so pissy lately and now he was upset that he had upset you. It was a stupid, petty fight, he’d give himself that.

“Alright well… when you get yourself back up, we’ll be inside.” Hinata said slowly. He didn’t trust the man and Atsumu knew it, but he started to walk into the gym anyways, only sparing one final glance back at Atsumu’s car while the man rolled the window up and sighed.

“No use worrying about it right this second, right?” Atsumu asked himself. With another soft sigh, the man took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. “What are we gonna do, get divorced?”

<>~<9:45 PM>~<>

Maybe it was the consequence of being late this morning, but practice tonight ran longer than it normally did for MSBY, leaving Atsumu nothing short of exhausted— now physically and emotionally. He almost struggled putting the key into the door, not knowing that you were on the other side anxiously looking towards the door. He pushed it open, setting his bag and keys down and looking over at you.

“Oh, I didn’t think ya’d be awake.” He said with a yawn. You were quiet as the man turned his back to you and locked the door, sliding his shoes off before walking slowly to the kitchen. “Why are ya still awake?” You seemed to have a clenched jaw that made the man stop in his tracks. “What’s this?” He asked with a little frown. There were papers on the kitchen table, a pen on top and your name signed right beneath it.

“I want to get divorced.” Was all you said. Atsumu stopped, his jaw falling slack as he looked at you with wide eyes and then back to the papers.

“What…?” He asked beneath his breath, almost in disbelief as you refused to look at the man. “(y/n)—” He started, but you cut him off.

“It’s too late, Atsumu. The papers already signed, just save yourself the breath and sign your name, too. It’s simple. Sign it, we go our own ways, and you don’t have to be so miserable anymore.”

“You don’t make me miserable.” He said quietly, but you only ignored him and pushed the pen closer to him with your fingers.

“Just sign the paper.”

“No, I’m not gonna sign the paper—”

“Why do you always have to make everything so fucking difficult?” You asked, finally looking at the man. “Just sign the paper.” Atsumu took the pen, shoving it down into his pocket and shaking his head.

“No.” You were about to speak again before he cut you off. “We’ve had fights before, why do ya wanna give up now?”

“Because there’s no winning!” You said almost desperately. “There’s no fucking winning with you anymore, Atsumu. There’s no way to make it better anymore and I’m sick of it.” He racked through his scrambled thoughts, trying to think of what to say to make you stay, but nothing was running through his mind. An apology wasn’t enough, he already knew that, but he didn’t think that you would take it this far.

“Just… just give me a month.” He said finally— desperately. “Please, just give me a month to win ya back. If you still want to get divorced then… then I’ll sign the papers.” He promised. You were hesitant, the gears clearly turning in your head before you gave a soft sigh and rested your forehead in your hand to rub at your temples.

“Fine.” You said, thinking the month would pass quickly and he would sign the papers so you could both be on your way. You were certain this was what you wanted. After all that he’s done, how could he win you back in just a month? “But come October 1st, we’re officially done.” You said as you stood and gathered the papers in a neat stack. “I’m not giving you any more chances.” Atsumu sent you a grateful look and nodded.

“I promise— I’ll be better. I won’t lose ya this time,” he thought back to a big fight the two of you had when you first started dating that had the two of you separated though still technically dating for about a week and a half. Just like then, Atsumu was terrified of losing you now.

Without a word, you headed for the bedroom, setting the stack of papers on the little desk that were open to see with your signature on bottom. Atsumu walked over, setting the pen he’d pocketed down on top of the papers and looking at you.

“Can I start off this month by sayin’ how sorry I am?” He asked quietly. You gave a soft shrug, turning to walk towards the bed.

“I don’t know, can you?” Atsumu followed you, sitting on the edge of the bed while you went to the little closet that was beside your bed and got your pajamas out.

“I’m not excusing myself, but I’ve been pissy. I took it out on you and I know I shouldn’t. I promise that this is it.” He said, looking up as you walked out of the closet and shut the light off. “I understand that this is my last chance, and I’m not gonna screw this up.” He said seriously. “You mean everything to me, (y/n). You’re not an uptight bitch, that was out of hand. I shouldn’t have called ya that.” He said softly. “I’ll never talk like that to you again.” You hesitated for a moment before you moved closer to the bed. Atsumu straightened up, though you only pulled the covers back a bit and glanced at him.

“I can’t get into bed with you sitting there like that.” He moved, watching you get beneath the covers and shut your lamp off, the one beside Atsumu’s side of the bed still on. “Shut that off before you shower,” you said, closing your eyes as you held onto the pillow and left an arm out of the blankets. He gave a soft nod that he knew you couldn’t see and walked around to his side of the bed, flipping the light off so that the only light in the room was from the moonlight that came in through the window that you were facing.

“Goodnight,” he said, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him with a soft sigh.

Wednesday, September 1st

Slowly, you opened your tired eyes, though quickly closing them right afterwards when the blinding sunlight came through the thin curtains that you had gotten months back. When you first bought them, you assumed that you’d wake every morning with your face buried into Atsumu’s chest rather than waking up facing the windows, though now that the two of you were having marriage trouble, you wanted to trade them back out for the ugly ones that were there before. At least those had been thicker.

You dreading turning to see the man beside you most likely already awakened by the sunlight and having to speak to him after the fight the other night, though as you sat up and rubbed your tired eyes, you gave the air a sniff and stopped.

There was the familiar sound of food being made. You checked the time and frowned. It was only 8 in the morning, what was Atsumu doing out of bed— a better question yet, what was he doing making food at 8 in the morning?

With a yawn, you got out of the bed, seeing his side of the blanket already pulled up the the pillows and made. An unusual occurrence, though you shrugged it off as you headed out of the bedroom in your tank-top and thick pajama pants, though you threw on a pair of fluffy socks quickly before you left the room. When you headed around the small counter corner for the kitchen, you saw Atsumu fully dressed making some eggs and pancakes. He sent you a quick smile before turning his attention back to the food.

“Good mornin’. I hope yer hungry.” You hesitated for a moment as you looked at the man before you spoke up.

“You made me breakfast…?”

“Well, us.” He said with a shrug. “Aren’t ya hungry?” You gave a hesitant nod as he smiled at you. “Perfect, take a seat and I’ll bring it to ya, it’s almost done.” You looked skeptically at the man before you went to sit down on the stools by the counter that looked into the kitchen through a small gap in the wall.

“What time did you wake up?” You asked as you watched the man flip the last pancake and set it on a stack before turning the burners off.

“About 7:30.” He said, pushing some eggs from the pan onto a plate and setting it in front of you before he put the pancakes and syrup on the counter as well. “Help yerself.” He sent you a small smile before getting his own plate, though he didn’t move to sit beside you like the other times that the two of you had breakfast— which felt like forever ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time that Atsumu had woken up to make himself breakfast let alone breakfast for the both of you.

You went to ask the man if he was going to sit beside you before you silenced, taking a pancake from the stack and setting it on your plate while Atsumu started to eat his eggs. You stole a quick look at the man as you grabbed the syrup.

“Thank you,” you said softly. He looked at you and gave a soft hum in question. “For breakfast.” You clarified. It was just a small thing, but it had shocked you. Since it had been so long, you weren’t expecting to wake up to the smell of food cooking. Atsumu smiled at you and nodded before swallowing the food in his mouth.

“Yer welcome. Enjoy.”

Tuesday, September 2nd

Work was dreadful today, leaving you exhausted after yet another restless night of sleep and waking up too early facing the bright windows. You brushed the hair back from your forehead as you walked around the staircase at the hotel that you worked at, stepping behind the check-in desk with one of your co-workers. You carefully picked up a small pile of papers and looked at all of them.

“What are these?” You asked the man who was checking someone in.

“Legal papers for the fire.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Less than a month ago there had been a fire in the kitchen due to a malfunction with the ovens, leaving you with a hefty price to pay on top of everything else along with lots of paperwork.

“Great,” you mumbled, sure that the rest of today was going to be poor. You grabbed a pen, knowing you were going to be standing there for another good hour reading and signing every single one of these papers, though while your co-worker was busy, the door opened to the inn and you had to stop what you were doing to greet the guest. Much to your surprise, when you looked up there was a delivery man bringing in a bouquet of flowers. Lillies, roses, pansies, a mixture that must’ve been expensive.

“Is there a Miya, (y/n) here?” The man asked, looking at you.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You said, assuming you needed to sign for another person in the building, yet he set the flowers down in front of you.

“Lucky you.” He said, getting a pen and paper out. “Someone must love you.” He offered you the small paper to sign, something you did absentmindedly as you looked at the large and beautiful bouquet of lively and open flowers. “Have a good day now,” he said, starting to head out.

“Yeah, have a good day yourself.” You said lowly, unsure of whether or not he had heard you, but being distracted by the flowers. Your co-worker finished signing in the new couple to a room and giving them the keys, though quickly turning his attention to you before they even left the counter.

“Atsumu must’ve done something pretty bad this time.” He said with a soft click of his tongue. You weren’t one for oversharing, but it was undeniable when Atsumu made you angry, let alone the times the man had come to your work nearly begging you to forgive him. The man had always thought that it was sort of romantic, however you had different thoughts and called it childish.

“Yeah, I guess. We had a fight. I wanted to get divorced and he’s trying to get me to stay.” You said softly, as if it was no big deal, though your co-worker choked on the air around him as he inhaled.

“I’m sorry, how can you say that so nonchalantly?” He asked. “You were thinking of divorcing him? That’s highly frowned upon let alone unheard of in workers in this inn, it isn’t a simple decision.” He said, but you shrugged.

“It seemed like it was.” He hesitated and raised an eyebrow at you.

“”Seemed”?”

“Well… when I was angry, I was sure it was what I wanted. Even now, it’s really hard for me to come up with a solution this time like the others. It’s only day 2 of him trying to make it up to me. I assume he’s going to give up soon.” You said, sounding saddened at the thought of losing the man and yet refusing to let yourself think about it. Your co-worker gave a sigh and handed you the inn phone.

“Call him. Let him know his advances are being recognized and maybe he won’t give up. Maybe this time he’ll actually try.” You were hesitant before you took the phone from the man. “I’ll be back, alright.” He said, heading towards the kitchen while you looked between the flowers and the phone.

You were torn. Were you still angry at Atsumu? Yes. Did you want to believe that he could change and that these two nice deeds so far were only the beginning of a changed man? More than anything, but at this point in life you refused to let your hopes get too high. After all, people were constantly letting you down and Atsumu hadn’t been excluded, he’d only been somebody you wanted to stick with despite being let down.

So with your bottom lip getting torn up between your teeth, you dialed the man’s number. You remembered it better than anything from the years of dialing his phone on the home phone after 9PM when your own was taken away for bedtime, leaving you only one option. You knew that your parents knew you called Atsumu after your phone was taken for bed, but it didn’t seem as though they cared so long as they knew you weren’t up all night on the phone.

The phone only rung a few times before the man answered, sounding absentminded.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Atsumu.” You said, making the man instantly pep up on the other end of the line.

“Oh, hey (y/n),” he said with an obvious smile on his face that you heard from the tone of his voice. “How are ya today?”

“I’m alright. I, uh…” You hesitated and looked at the pretty flowers, carefully turning the vase to see the other sides. “I got something from the mailman today.” That obvious smile was still on Atsumu’s face as he spoke.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” You said quietly. “They’re really pretty.”

“Only for a few days. Yer beauty is gonna last a lifetime.” He said, unknowingly making your cheeks flush.

“Look, I gotta sign a bunch of paperwork after the fire, so I have to go.” You said. “I just wanted to say thanks.”

“I’ll see ya at home tonight,” he said, hesitating for a moment before his smile seemed to drop. “Bye, (y/n).”

“Bye, Atsumu.”

Friday, September 3rd

A week had gone by as you came home, tired from another long day at work. You were surprised to see Atsumu’s shoes at the door, though even more to smell food being made. When you peeked your head into the kitchen, nobody was there, leaving you confused. You slowly walked back to the bedroom, seeing a small rose petal on the floor outside of the bathroom. With a frown, you pushed the half-open door open all the way and saw the man sitting on his knees by the bathtub that was letting out water so hot that it was already fogging the mirror up.

“Hey, welcome home.” He sent you a smile. “How was work?” You shook off the shock you felt and set your bag down on the small cabinet that was by the toilet.

“It was stressful. Are you taking a bath? There’s food cooking.” You went to scold the thoughtless man before he shook his head with a soft laugh.

“No, this is for you.” He said, straightening up. “While I’m finishin’ up dinner, I thought a warm bath might ease you. I know this week has been pretty shitty for ya and I thought this might help ya.” He offered, showing the mound of bubbles welling up in the hot bath with little rose petals scattered across the floor that made a small smile twitch at the corner of your lips.

“Thank you.” You said softly, trying to remember a time where Atsumu did anything more than tell you he was sorry that you’d had a long day and yet you came up with nothing. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m makin’ something in the hotpot tonight.” He said, making your eyes seem to light up. “It’s yer favorite. Here, I’ll let ya get to the bath. It should be done soon, but take your time. I’ll keep the food warm for ya until yer done.” He promised, walking past you and shutting the bathroom door. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment before you started to strip off your clothes, going to wash your makeup off quickly before stepping into the tub.

Slowly, you sunk into the warm water and gave a sigh in relief. Thinking of washing this whole week away was enough to make you tired. You got comfortable in the bath, sliding down until the water covered your shoulders even if your knees bent up a little ways out of the water. Closing your eyes, you took a few minutes of peace, enjoying the almost dead silence of the bathroom before you noticed a familiar scent.

Looking over, you saw one of your favorite scented candles burning right beside you, though you swore that you were out and every time you looked for them, the stores were sold out. You were thinking of how he could have gotten one when there was a soft knock at the bathroom door and Atsumu peeked his head in.

“Hey, I got ya some wine at the store earlier and I thought that might be good to help ya unwind.” He said, walking in a bit and offering the glass to you. Carefully, you grabbed it, trying not to let it slip through your wet and soapy fingers.

“Thank you.” You said softly. He sent you a quick smile before turning to leave, but you were quick to catch him. “Hey, Atsumu— where did this come from?” You asked, pointing at the candle as he peeked back at you in question. “Did I have another one that I didn’t know about hiding somewhere?” You asked, knowing for certain that you didn’t. You remembered when your last one burned out because you had known that was it until you could make it to the store.

“No, I know you ran out of them, so I found some online and got a few a couple weeks ago. They just came in this mornin’ and I put ‘em in the cabinet under the sink.” He said. You were silent, fiddling with the wine glass in your hand.

“Oh.”

“I’ll leave ya be,” he said. “Enjoy the bath.” He shut the door, heading out of the bedroom while you brought the glass up to your mouth and took a small sip. You clenched your hand around it, shaking your head.

“Don’t fall for it,” you said to yourself beneath your breath. “He’s just going to be better for a month or two and then slip up again and you’ll be right back in the same spot.” You gave a sigh, sniffing the air a moment afterwards and rubbing your tired eyes. “Right…?”

Saturday, September 4th

A loud thunder crash woke you up, startling you from a good sleep after almost 5 nights of sleeping stiff and miserable from your fight with Atsumu. This time however, you were on your back rather than curled up on your side, meeting the ceiling in your dark room as your first sight. Just as lightning flashed, you saw the shadow of the swaying trees with the wind outside. Anxiously, you peeked over at Atsumu’s side of the bed, not seeing the man there.

It wasn’t to say that storms were your biggest fear, though being woken up by such a loud thunder crash that made it sound like your sealed and locked window was open had made your heart race. Peeking at the clock, you saw that it was nearly 3 in the morning and you wondered where the man was. Even if the two of you didn’t cuddle like you used to every night, he was still sleeping in the bed with you even after the fight.

You waited a few minutes, wondering if maybe he might come to bed. Sure, you were still sort of angry with him and you didn’t necessarily want him to hold you all night like he always did, but him being here was enough of a comfort. Even when you were mad at him, you’d known Atsumu for decades and you’d been through so much together. His presence may have been frustrating sometimes, but there was nothing better than familiarity.

When a few minutes ticked by with loud thunder and bright lightning and Atsumu was yet to return, you forced yourself out of bed. Wearing a long sleeved shirt and sleep shorts was a good idea tonight with how tired you were. Wrapping yourself up in a blanket from the bottom of your bed, you walked slowly out of the bedroom. The door was shut because the television in the living room was on. Atsumu sat on the sofa, looking tired and yet he was awake.

“What are ya doing awake?” He asked when he saw you from the corner of his eye, turning his attention away from the bright tv and onto you as you squinted and walked out of the room fully. “Did the storm wake ya?” He asked, almost going to reach out his arms for you but stopping; he wanted to respect your clear desire to be away from the man, untouched and unbothered. As hard as he was trying to keep you, he didn’t want to end up scaring you off.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep.” You stopped, hesitating before you slowly walked over to the sofa. Atsumu was surprised as you sat down on the cushion close to him, but you didn’t speak again.

“Well, if ya want to, we can watch something.” He offered you the remote that you shook your head at.

“Whatever you’re watching is fine.” You pulled your knees up to your chest and leaned back against the cushion, trying to get comfortable as another commercial started.

“It’s just an old episode of this show we used to watch.” He said, setting the remote back down on the armrest beside him. “Guess I was feelin’ nostalgic.” You were silent, watching as the show came back on. You smiled a bit, remembering all of the times you would hang out with the twins and watch this show together, though as you aged and got closer to Atsumu, the two of you often sat on the phone watching the show late into the night in your own houses.

“I remember this.” You yawned quietly, closing your eyes and snuggling back against the cushion, but another loud thunder strike made you jump. Atsumu felt bad, wishing he could do something to help you, but not knowing how. Before you’d snuggled into his arms and he gratefully held you, but now that you were in a fight, he was left guessing how to make things better.

“I know yer antsy because of the storm. I’ll stay up with ya until it passes. All night if we have to. If that’s what ya want, anyways.” He offered, watching you stare at the tv with a pretty plain expression on your face, though you gave a soft nod after he spoke.

“I’d like that.”

Sunday, September 5th

Slowly, you opened your eyes with a yawn. Your neck had a kink in it as you sat stiffly on the sofa, though when the storm finally passed around 5 AM the other night— or rather early this morning— you had fallen asleep almost immediately. You were surprised to look over and not see Atsumu and instead a small note on the cushion that read “I had to run to the store, be back soon.”

You wondered what he needed at the store but chose to ignore it, sluggishly getting off of the sofa and stretching your sore limbs out. With a puff of air exhaled from your nose, you went to the bedroom and quickly changed before going to brush your teeth. You rubbed your eyes as you finished, heading out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Just as you opened the fridge, the front door opened.

Atsumu set the bags down on the counter and saw you.

“Hey, don’t eat anything, I’m makin’ breakfast.” He said, quickly sliding his shoes off and locking the door. You walked around the counter, looking at the man who took a new carton of eggs carefully out of the bag and set it down on the countertop. “You can sit if you’d like, I’m not askin’ ya to help me.” He said. You took his words and sat on the little stool as he walked around to the other side of the counter where the stove was.

You looked at the carton of eggs as it brought back a memory.

“Do you remember when we were 14 and we just got home from the store for your mom and you dropped the whole carton of eggs and ‘Samu spilt the milk, so we had to go all the way back?” You asked, making the man immediately give a little laugh.

“Yeah, I remember that. Ya wouldn’t let Samu and I carry the bags back that time. I bet we looked like a couple of asses lettin’ you carry the bags and us doin’ nothing.” He said with a soft sigh in content. “That was a pretty fun weekend. You spent the whole time with us because yer parents were out of town, right?” He asked, looking at you as you nodded.

“I don’t think we slept the whole time.” You said softly, looking down at your lap. “I kinda wish we could experience that night again for the first time.” You mumbled, thinking back to how strongly you had been pining for Atsumu at that point, completely unaware that he had feelings for you as well. Everything seemed so serious with a small crush on your best friend back then. You hated how life got stressful as you aged even when you tried your hardest to keep things stress-free.

“I’d go back just to see the look on ‘Samu’s face when he dropped the milk after laughin’ at me for droppin’ the eggs.” A small smile twitched back onto your face for a moment as you thought about the shocked look on his face.

“That was pretty good.” You said quietly. “I’d go back to eat that dinner your mom made again, my god— it was so good.” You said, reminiscing back to the first time you’d tried a hotpot meal with the twins and their mom, unknowingly making Atsumu bite back a grin as this was the most you’d spoken to him in 5 days now.

“I’m sure she’d make it again for ya.” He said, cracking an egg when the frying pan got hot enough on the stovetop. “After all, yer her favorite out of the three of us.” He said in a joking way that made you smile a bit again.

“She always made me feel so at home when I came to your old house.” You shifted on the little stool, thinking back to having a bad fight with your mother or feeling bad because of your dad and finding your way to the Miya household only to feel nothing but welcome by the little family. As chaotic and loud as it could be in comparison to your own cold seeming household, it was home. It was what you had always wanted home to feel like. Atsumu was home. “I, uh— I have to go to the bathroom.” You said, quickly standing up. “I’ll be back.” You said, quickly walking towards the bedroom and going into the bathroom with a sigh. You ran your hands through your hair and tried to stop thinking back to all of the good years quite yet.

There was still time for him to give up, and maybe it was pessimistic of you, but you refused to let him break your heart for a third time. You tried hanging onto the feeling that this relationship was no longer salvageable, and yet you were at a loss. You thought back to how happy the two of you typically were and how safe and at home you felt with Atsumu in his arms, seeing him smiling, hearing his laughter. It tugged at your heartstrings as you tried to hold it back and gave a sigh.

“Not yet. Don’t give in so quick.” You mumbled to yourself. “Make him prove himself this time, dammit.”

Monday, September 6th

The bell dinging caught the man’s attention as his back was turned, though he was quick to catch up with the new customer walking into the shop.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya, just a moment and I’ll be with you.” Osamu spoke up.

“Take your time.” You said, making the man quickly turn at your familiar voice.

“(y/n)!” Osamu said with a grin. “Hey, how are you?” He asked, turning his attention away from what he was doing as he walked over to the counter. “It’s been a little while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been crazy busy with work.”

“How are things after the fire?” He asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter as you ran a hand through your hair and gave a sigh.

“God, so stressful, but things are finally starting to work themselves out. I just finished all of the paperwork needed and work is going to start tomorrow on the inn, so here’s to hoping that everything will be done quickly and we can get back into proper working function.” You said, glancing at the menu. “It’s been awhile and I thought that I might come to see you. How is business?”

“Busy, it’s been an amazing month so far. I can only hope we both make it to next month with good work.” He said. “Where’s my idiot brother?”

“He’s at practice.” You said, wondering if Atsumu had ever spoken to his brother about your threat of divorce. Part of you wanted to think that if he had, Osamu would have called you immediately and asked what all was happening. He wasn’t an intervener when it came to arguments with Atsumu, picking his brothers side and making you feel crazy, however he had saved you a lot of trouble by helping you solve some minor problems.

“And is everything alright with you guys? I haven’t heard anything lately so I assume things are all good?” You sent the man a little smile and nodded, not wanting to start up something that you didn’t need to.

“Things are good. Atsumu has actually been really great lately. He’s been making me breakfast and just this week he sent me this gorgeous bouquet of flowers.” Osamu raised an eyebrow at you.

“Really? Wow. I don’t think he’s a shitty husband or anything, but I didn’t know he was that good.” You sighed and shook your head.

“I didn’t either.”

“Did you two have a fight recently? Is he trying to make it up to you?” He pressed, knowing that something was wrong even if you didn’t say it. You looked down and nodded. “What happened?”

“I told him I wanted to get divorced and he’s trying to make me stay.” Osamu hesitated before gently pressing a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are ya thinking that the two of you might be able to make it out of this one?” He asked, knowing that your relationship was sturdy and yet he knew that his brother was a fool. You were a strong person and Atsumu wasn’t someone you needed financially, you had only wanted him so you stuck around with him.

“I don’t know.” You whispered. “I think that I want to, I just… I don’t want things to change in just a couple months. I’m worried that if I take him back and I— say— tear up the papers, he’ll just slowly go back and I’ll be right back here.”

“How long has it been?”

“Almost a week. He wants me to give him a month to make it up to me.”

“Well, it has only been a week. It can go either way, he’s being great, right?” He asked and you were quick to nod your head. “Then maybe he’ll stay great. Maybe he’s taking this seriously for once. I know he’s an idiot, but when you really threaten him with things, it can get through his thick skull. I don’t want to think of you getting divorced, but if he changes back then you’ll know there’s just no saving it.” He said with a light shrug. “Now, what can I get ya? Free of charge for my sister-in-law. You do have to live with my brother after all, I feel kinda bad for you.” A soft laugh came from you as you looked at the man with a small smile.

“Thank you, Osamu. I don’t… I don’t think I really want to get divorced. I love him, I just… I don’t want to be unhappy.”

“And if things are meant to be, you won’t be.” He promised. “Now, what can I get ya?”

Tuesday, September 7th

A quiet sound of keys clicking on a keyboard rather quickly slowly awoke Atsumu from his slumber. He gave a soft groan and rolled over, peeking open his tired eyes and seeing you sitting up, a pillow on your lap to hold your laptop steady as you typed, though when he moved you looked over.

“It’s late, you should sleep for practice tomorrow.” Was all you said before you turned your attention back to your laptop.

“What are ya doin’ up if it’s so late?” He asked slowly, his voice muffled as his face squished against his pillow, something that you’d always thought was cute. Tired Atsumu had this tinge to his voice that wasn’t only the raspy tone, but it was different. It was cute.

“Just working on something for work.” You said, but that was a lie. You had previously been trying to do some things for work, but you got distracted as you looked at the man beside you, so you started to make a pro and con list. It felt silly, but you were trying to really think about all of Atsumu’s flaws and decide if they were still bearable, however your relationships list had many more pro’s than it did con’s as of right now and it was conflicting you.

Was it because you were still in love with him? Did you need to distance yourself more? Did you need to think deeper? Did you need to find more flaws in the man beside you? You didn’t want to make the pro’s so long and the con’s so little purely because you were biased towards the man, that didn’t feel right to you, but neither did looking for things that were wrong with him.

After all, you wouldn’t want him to look for things that were wrong with you. Of course there were many, everybody had flaws and things to work on, but what got you the most right now was that Atsumu seemed to be trying really hard. He’d lasted longer than you thought he was going to, almost a whole week now since he promised that he was going to change, that this time was going to be different. You wanted to believe him, but you didn’t want to get hurt. That was what you were the most afraid of right now.

The pro’s list felt too vague and the con’s seemed too detailed. A few pro’s were simple, the way that he made you smile when he was laughing, feeling happy and safe when he was around like nobody had ever made you feel, falling in love with every single smile and soft look from the man, the sex that made you feel like you were having an amazing out-of-body experience, the way that he would get so excited about little things and make you excited about them as well purely because he was so happy. And yet some of the con’s were simple as well, how he fought with you about every stupid little thing when he was pissed off at something else, how he would be childish and ignore you for hours on end when he was wrong and yet  still waiting for you to come to him, how he would only try and change when things got taken too far.

You were completely split down the middle; as many more pro’s that there were, the con’s weren’t little things. They were things that were important to you; consistency and communication were key, and yet Atsumu seemed lacking in both of the areas that mattered most to you.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

“Hmm,” he gave a drawn out sound, making you think he was falling asleep as you continued to think up things and type them down as you evaluated the list, but he spoke again. “I hope ya get to sleep soon, baby.” He said it absentmindedly as he fell asleep again, but it made your heart skip a beat.

Atsumu was taking things slow. He was giving you the space he knew that you needed during this time all the while putting in genuine effort, but tonight was the first time he’d called you a familiar pet name since the fight. You hesitated before typing another thing down on the pro’s.

“The way that I feel when he calls me “Baby”.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Wishmaker

Goddamn it... 

It's bad enough Astruc tastelessly axed Lukanette, but now he just had to show up to give a sarcastic eulogy at the funeral.

Let's get into the fourteenth (chronologically the eighteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Wishmaker

Right out of the gate, we get a “Chloe bad” joke with her insulting Marinette for being poor or whatever as she hands out flyers for an upcoming career fair. Chloe doesn't have much of a role in the episode, but she will be important towards the end, trust me. We also get a funny “Marinette stares lovingly at Adrien” joke while she sees him, so it's good the writers are at least trying to get their strange habits out of their systems now instead of later.

While reading over the flyer in his room, Adrien ponders a possible career as he doesn't want to keep being a model.

(The episode came out in English first, so I'm just going to be using quotes instead of screenshots of subbed scenes for this review)

Plagg: Don't you wanna continue to model?

Adrien: I don't think so, Plagg. I'm doing it now because my father asked me to. But now I realize I don't know what I'd want to do. I've never asked myself that question.

This is a really interesting dilemma for Adrien. Unlike other episodes that just have him feel sad for entirely superfluous reasons like Ladybug turning him down or generally moping about his mom, it feels like something you can really understand. He genuinely isn't sure what he wants to do with his life because he's had everything chosen for him before. I also like the use of the English dub saying Adrien modeled because his father asked him to, as if he couldn't actually say no. I also like how Adrien is still starting to lose faith in Ladybug for giving out Miraculous to everyone, which makes even more sense after his view of her was shaken in the previous episode chronologically, “Rocketear”. I also like how Plagg suggests ideas for a career for Adrien, like the two of them opening up a cheese shop together, which shows how Plagg cares for Adrien and wants what's best for him, ultimately highlighting how healthy their relationship is. He's almost like a big brother who gives advice to Adrien, even if it isn't the most sound advice at times.

On the other hand, Marinette already knows what she wants to do with her life, but the Kwamis start to argue over what she actually means by it by saying they know what she wants to do, a painfully accurate metaphor for the writers dictating Marinette's actions no matter how inconsistent they are.

Pollen: What's a career, dear Guardian?

Marinette: Oh. Well, it's... your job! Something really important that you do and gives meaning to your life!

Roaar: Oh! So, your job is being the Guardian of the Miraculous!

Mullo: Of course not! It's being a student!

Xuppu: Not at all! It's making presents for Adrien!

Marinette:Well...

Longg: She said “something important”, like when she crafted the big doll house to hide the Miracle Box!

Wayzz: Or when she designed the alarm for this room! What a masterpiece!

Marinette: Sure, I love crafting but—

Ziggy: You guys don't get it! What gives meaning to her life is to be in love with Adrien, or Luka, that's her job!

Fluff: Luka's the one with the guitar, right?

Kaalki: Her real career is being Ladybug and carve her name in history by her glorious deeds, of course!

Of course, their bickering somehow makes Marinette realize she isn't sure what she wants to do in the future after all.

We then cut to a reality show hosted by TV personality, Alec Cataldi. He's generally an asshole to the people on the shows he hosts and takes pleasure in humiliating or just being a dick to them, making you wonder how he still gets work with that attitude. Basically, he's the Alec Baldwin of the Miraculous Ladybug universe. The current show he's hosting is one where he roasts people for their jobs, making Andre a target by pointing how counterproductive his “business” is.

Alec: Here's a perfect example: Andre, the Ice Cream Maker, the ice cream man that is never around! Let me remind you how this goes: Andre doesn't have a shop, no one knows where he is, it takes forever to find him, and he gets to pick a flavor of your ice cream! You've gotta be kidding, Andre! Give me one reason why I should bother to chase after you when I could get my choice of ice cream in any corner supermarket!

Andre: Well, people don't just come for ice cream when they find me. They come to share their love and experience of magical moments! A supermarket cannot do what I do! I am a creator of magical moments!

Alec: “Creator of magical moments?” You've gotta be kidding!

I'm pretty sure that's what a lot of people thought of Andre when they first saw “Glaciator”. The idea behind Andre is that he chooses ice cream for you representing something about yourself, so he gives Alec a scoop of lime to represent his sour exterior and chocolate cinnamon to represent the dreams he still has within. Alec flinches a little at the ice cream, presumably because of how terrible of a combination that is, and decides to go to commercial to think.

Marinette talks to Andre about what he does, and he explains he used to be an office worker, with the only highlight of his days being making ice cream for himself after work. It eventually inspired him to quit his job and start making ice cream for everyone. It's a nice backstory, and I think a lot of people watching who are struggling to think about their future can relate to this like with the earlier scene with Adrien. It's also a nice touch for the flashbacks to reveal Andre has served ice cream to some of France's most famous couples.

(Jean Coutau and Jean Marais)

(Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin)

(Marion Cotillard and Guillaume Canet)

Granted, I'm wondering how old Andre is to have even met some of these people given Jean Cocteau died in 1963, but seeing how Master Fu is 186, I'm guessing the Miraculous Ladybug universe just has really good healthcare. Either that, or the people in this universe take Jay Kordich's diet very seriously.

Andre gives some ice cream to Marinette, who is soon joined by her ex-boyfriend who she never loved according to the writers. Actually, judging from her face when Luka talks about the very first guitar he made, the writers made another 180 regarding Marinette's feelings for Luka.

Of course, because the show wants to remind the audience Alec still exists, he makes fun of Luka for taking two years to perfect the delicate craftsmanship it takes to sculpt any instrument when you can just download an app on your phone. Your inner boomer is showing, writers, even if you were born after the time period for that generation. Luka retorts with some vague philosophical line he's known for that's one of the reasons why people are so mixed on him as a character

Luka: Musical instruments fill the space and space fills the instruments. No phone in the world will ever be able to do that.

Despite it being incredibly confusing, it gets to Alec, causing him to run off in tears. Luka and Marinette continue to talk, but it turns out that's Adrien decided to sit down nearby because of course he did. Though, like the last scene, it's a pretty interesting one as the three discuss what they want to do with their lives. There's also a really nice visual of a blimp with an ad Adrien was in passing by while Adrien talks about his father dictating his life, a really nice symbol. Of course, the scene is somewhat ruined by Luka suddenly deciding to be an Adrienette shipper.

Luka: You two will eventually find what's already in front of you, but you can't hear it clearly. Just let the melody flow.

He's referring to their uncertainty of their futures, but earlier on, Luka wanted to help Marinette be honest with her feelings about Adrien, and even before that, Andre was saying that Marinette and Luka didn't have to be in love to enjoy his magic ice cream. It's here when I realized this episode is subtly trying to end any chances of Lukanette still happening with so many little details. Right when the two spend time together, that's when they decided to help Adrien who showed up for no reason, preventing them from potentially coming to terms with their feelings for each other or at the very least discuss how hard it is to be friends with their history. And things only get more frustrating towards the end, where you'd swear someone decided to smother Lukanette with a pillow in its sleep.

Back to Alec, he's roasting a wig salesman (does he even have permission to film any of these people?) for his job, but as soon as the salesman puts a wig on him, Alec immediately gives us his life story.

Alec: When I was a kid, I used to have long hair, but everyone made fun of me. That's why I shaved it all off. I've been making the wrong choices my whole life. My TV shows are nothing personal. I make fun of people when they make fun of me when I was a kid. (Starts to tear up) I should've been the person I always wanted to be, trying to change the world instead of mocking it! (Falls on his knees) I've wasted my life!

I didn't paraphrase this at all. This is seriously what happened. He goes from mocking everyone he meets, to slightly doubting himself after seeing an ice cream vendor and a young musician, and then he starts having an existential crisis about his tragic backstory. It's not a bad idea, but if there was some more buildup in previous episodes, I'd understand. But this goes from confusing to straight out insulting towards the end. I'll get to that later on.

Shadowmoth notices Alec's emotions and akumatizes him into Wishmaker through his microphone.

Wishmaker has a pretty cool design. The grey skin color coupled with the mostly black outfit really highlights Alec's broken heart, and he looks pretty sinister. His powers... leave a lot to be desired.  Like the name states, Wishmaker has the power to make everyone's childhood dreams come true, like this one guy's dream is to be Santa Claus, so he transforms into Saint Nick without any hitch. Wouldn't it make more sense if Wishmaker twisted the dreams of his victims like a genie and made them miserable while they ironically lived out their fantasies by twisting around their words? Instead, all of his “victims” seem pretty happy, which doesn't really do much to make him a threat in my opinion.

So the aforementioned Santa starts dropping presents like bombs near Marinette, Adrien, and Luka, and they're separated by a giant robot. Marinette quickly transforms into Ladybug, and gets Luka to safety, though as soon as she leaves, Luka goes to check on where he told Marinette to stay for safety, and doesn't see her there. Instead, he sees his deadbeat father (transformed into a crocodile) drowning and goes to save him.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir (who transformed off-screen) and the two easily incapacitate the robot before engaging Wishmaker, avoiding his blasts. Apparently, they'll get their secret identities revealed if they get hit, so Ladybug goes to get Luka to help out as Viperion while Cat Noir holds off Wishmaker. Ladybug goes to get Luka, leading to the funniest joke in the episode.

She gives Luka the Snake Miraculous and he transforms into Viperion, immediately activating his Second Chance. For newcomers, Second Chance allows the user to set a point in time when activating it and if something goes wrong, they can go back to that checkpoint in up to five minutes. Ladybug also summons her Lucky Charm, a stuffed dinosaur toy.

Back with Cat Noir, as he engages Wishmaker, the Akuma starts to tempt him with the idea of living out his childhood dream, because he genuinely doesn't remember his. As Shadowmoth orders Wishmaker to use his powers on Cat Noir, Ladybug and Viperion show up, but in the chaos of the fight, Ladybug gets hit by Wishmaker, revealing her childhood dream as the “Knitting Fairy”, and exposes her identity to Viperion, who uses Second Chance to undo the timeline.

In the new timeline, Cat Noir's vulnerability gets to him, so he willingly lets himself get his by Wishmaker, not only exposing his identity as Adrien, but tragically reveals his childhood dream, to be whatever his parents wanted him to be. I feel like this works a lot better than some of the other moments where Cat Noir defied orders or screwed around on the battlefield because it's clearly framed as a moment of weakness on his part, and it was naturally built up over the course of the episode. The reveal of Adrien's childhood dream is a real gut punch too, as it shows just how much Adrien's life has been controlled by his family.

In the third timeline, Viperon deflects Wishmaker's blast meant for Cat Noir and redirects it toward a man whose childhood dream was to become a giant stuffed dinosaur. The stuffed dinosaur in question goes to give Wishmaker a hug, restraining him long enough for Ladybug to steal for Cat Noir to cataclysm (It's a microphone, how hard is it to break???) before she de-evilizes the Akuma. Ladybug uses Miraculous Ladybug to force everyone to stop living out their childhood dreams, she gives Alec a Magical Charm, and Luka decides not to tell Ladybug he knows both her and Cat Noir's secret identities. Why did Ladybug expect Luka not to know her identity when the whole reason she recruited him was to make sure nobody else found out her identity?

Now, while it isn't outright said, it's hinted at that now that Luka knows Marinette is Ladybug and Adrien is Cat Noir, judging from his dejected look after finding out the latter, he may be giving up on all attempts at the idea of getting back together with Marinette, and may or may not start shipping the Love Square now, just like how Kagami decided to ship Adrienette in “Mr. Pigeon 72”. I'm not saying the idea of Luka knowing someone's identity is bad, but it feels like this only happened specifically to stop him from having feelings for Marinette because now he knows Adrien loves her alter ego, and vice versa. Maybe it'll be touched upon in a later episode, but this was just a dick move by the writers in terms of ending all chances of Lukanette like this in order to ensure the Love Square has absolutely no competition.

So the episode ends with Marinette and Adrien deciding to focus on their futures while Alec starts a new show where he helps people live out their childhood dreams, albeit dressed like Style Queen for some reason.

Eh, he still picked a pretty cool Akuma to dress up as in my opinion. A lot of people have viewed this ending as evidence Alec is a drag queen with how he dressed up, coupled with the fact that he said something that was very similar to famous drag queen RuPaul.

Alec: And now, we're gonna love one another, starting with everyone loving themselves! Because how are you gonna love other people if you don't love yourself?

Though Astruc, being Astruc, once again decided to be vague when asked about the subject on Twitter, though at least the subtext is better than when he said he didn't make Juleka and Rose girlfriends because of censors while making it seem like a noble act.

Overall, this was a really good episode, though there were some underlying issues that really kept me from actually liking it. For the most part, it had some good drama with the main character, a rare scene where Marinette didn't stammer around Adrien, a creative (albeit flawed) Akuma with some good action, and an interesting idea with Luka knowing everything about the Love Square now.

There are just two big problems that really got to me about this episode. Let's get the obvious one out of the way, Luka. Honestly, he really didn't need to be in the episode. Sure, he gave some sound advice to Marinette and Adrien about their careers, but it felt kind of strange to see someone their age talking to them about their future when Andre, someone who actually had experience struggling to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, was pushed to the side. And like I said earlier, I think the only reason Luka found out about Marinette and Adrien's identities was to discourage him from thinking about getting back together with Marinette. After all, now that he realizes how “made for each other” they are, he can't stand in the way of the Love Square.

The problem is that in the context of the episode, we don't really see what made him see things that way. At least in “Mr. Pigeon 72”, Kagami consistently viewed Marinette's attempts to get her and Adrien back together as a subconscious desire to be with Adrien. It was dumb with how she decided to go to Team Adrienette at the end of the episode, but it was something. I'm glad the episode didn't force in too many Love Square shenanigans, but I think more should have been done to contextualize Luka's feelings towards the reveal. I get the writers wanted to make sure Lukanette had no chance of coming back, but this just feels rushed.

And then there's Alec's redemption arc. While it's not a bad idea in concept, the problem is that it flies in the fact of a recurring theme this season, that being redemption. Because, here's the funny thing: Alec blatantly said he became an asshole TV personality because of his history of bullying, and decided to retaliate as a result, but he eventually saw the error of his ways and turned over a new leaf. For long time readers of this blog, I apologize for bringing this up yet again, but what exactly makes this different from everything Astruc said about Chloe? You know, when he said that you make your formative choices when you're fourteen? Just like how Alec decided to become a reality TV host making fun of people after a troubling experience from when he was a kid?

Let's say that I agree with Astruc's views about Chloe. How is Alec different from what Astruc's said about Chloe for almost two years at this point? What makes Chloe, someone who was the victim of a troubled childhood who never got help, an irredeemable monster while Alec, someone who also had a troubled childhood and had even more time to get help while never getting any, capable of change? I thought he Alec made a formative choice when he was young and stuck with it, just like how Chloe started to fully develop at the age of fourteen. I mean, Astruc, you yourself said that Chloe's troubled childhood “was no excuse to treat people like shit”, according to you.

I'm just saying, dude, if Chloe can't be redeemed because of the stuff you yourself said, then that shouldn't apply to Alec either. When you really think about it, it's almost like Astruc either made up a bunch of excuses to not redeem Chloe, or he's a massive hypocrite for going back on his word. You can't really justify this kind of hypocrisy relating to Alec's redemption when you remember just how much of a hardass Astruc was when explaining why redemption was impossible for Chloe.

This coupled with the treatment of Luka really drags this episode from really good to blatantly insulting to certain viewers. Then again, these two choices just got to me personally. I feel like if those two things weren't there, things could have made this episode a lot better for me personally. I can see why a lot of people in the fandom still like this episode, but I'm honestly not a fan of it.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Learned Helplessness.

Commissioned by the very lovely, very patient @99shadowcat99.

Pairing: Yandere!Hawks/Reader (BNHA).

Word Count: 1.6k.

TW: Mindbreak, Slight Stockholm Syndrome, Themes of Past Abuse, Physical Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Gaslighting, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, and Implied Kidnapping.

Sometimes, Keigo had to wonder if there was ever a point where you hadn’t been afraid of him.

It’d always been there, even if Keigo liked to remember your anxious smiles and stuttered greetings in a kinder light. It made sense, in the moment, the way you kept your eyes on the floor when you first approached him, struggling to introduce yourself as you fumbled with the disposable cup in your hands, caught between the urge to leave an off-shift hero alone and the temptation get your favorite idol’s autograph before he could slip out of the small, back-alley bar you found him in. You’d been nervous, obviously, hesitant to admit you were just as eager as he was when he asked for your number, when he called you for the first time – hell, it took him months just to get you to spend the night in his apartment. You were shy. He liked that about you. You’d always been so timid.

The fear, the genuine fear, started later on. He remembered it, the weeks you spent holing yourself up in the smallest corner you could find, how many times he tried to lure you out and how many times he was met screaming and thrashing and struggling, but you’d always been scared, slow to adjust, reluctant to sit still and listen when he asked you so nicely to try. You wanted to be loved, but you didn’t know how to let your guard down. You wanted him, but…

But, he was making excuses. You were never shy. You’d never really been scared. Even when things went bad, he doubted you were ever really afraid of him.

You were afraid now, though, and if he’d been a better man, he might’ve been able to admit he was the reason why.

Your hands were shaking. Violently, visibly, despite your attempts to keep them folded behind your back, to keep the evidence of your paranoia out of sight and out of mind. It was enough to give you away, though, and if it hadn’t been, your posture would’ve done it, too stiff and too rigid to be comfortable, or your bowed head, or the smile you couldn’t seem to force onto your grim expression as he let himself into the kitchen, stopping to lean in the doorway. Already, it felt like an invasion, despite the fact that he’d taken you to his villa, on his property, far away from anyone or anything you’d interact with willingly. He was home too soon, and this wasn’t his territory, anymore. He wasn’t your caretaker, anymore. He’d lost the right to think of himself as such a benevolent figure.

But, he tried. You had to give him that. Out of the two of you, he was the only one trying to make this work. “No need to be shy,” He started, keeping his tone as neutral as he could. You didn’t react well when he raised his voice, and when he tried to be more gentle, to soften himself into something delicate and unimposing, you never bought the act. He couldn’t blame you. If he didn’t know how sweet you could be, how playful and how loving, he wouldn’t know to be dissatisfied with the frightened thing you currently were. “I don’t bite, (Y/n), you know that. You can calm down.”

He wanted you to correct him. He wanted you to grit your teeth, to cross your arms, to get angry. You only nodded, narrowing your eyes at the tiling. “You… you’re early.” Your voice was quiet, barely above a mumble, but it was still an improvement. Not long ago, you’d refused to talk to him at all, and when he could choke a few words out of you, he’d have to deal with the breakdown that came afterward, the pleads for mercy forced out between hitched sobs. This was better. He could tell himself that this was better, even if it was less, too. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been there to greet you. I would’ve, if I thought you were going to—”

You were rambling, again. Keigo didn’t have a problem with that, not by itself, not when so many memories he had of your absent-minded tangents were still tinted with that sparkling, rose-colored haze, but he didn’t care for this, panicked muttering only made more painful by the way you shifted your weight, managing to hold your tense smile, this time. Did he ask you to do that? Smile when he was around? Play house and pretend you were happy when your captor chose to pay attention to you? It seemed like something he would do, back when he still thought that wearing you down was the solution. Fuck, it seemed like something he would do now, if he didn’t already know how painful it was to watch you try.

“It’s alright,” He cut you off, taking half a step forward. Instantly, reflexively, you flinched back, that slight shudder suddenly more pronounced. It wasn’t just your hands, now, your shoulders were shaking too, your jaw locking into place as you leaned into the sharp edge of the countertop. “Sweetheart,” He tried, moving forward before realizing his mistake and freezing, cursing under his breath. Predictably, none of it did anything to soothe you. “Baby, I just wanted to see you, that’s all. I got off early, and I figured we could—”

A stifled gasp interrupted him, just the hint of a sob. A month ago, he would’ve taken it as a sign of disobedience, another bad habit you had to be trained out of. Now, it was all he could do to stop himself from wishing you would cry, kick and bite and scratch at him until you’re too exhausted to care that he'd be the one comforting you. At least that way, he’d get to touch you. At least that way, you’d be something, other than afraid.

“Please, I just—I haven’t done anything!” Because you’ve been good. Because so much as being near him was a punishment. Because he wanted you to love him and now, he was paying the price for hoping he could ever do something so shamelessly heroic. “I can’t— please, don’t come any closer, I don’t know if I can—”

He wanted to hold you. That was all he could think about. He just wanted to hold you, the actual you. Not whatever shell he’d gotten used to living with. “Stop talking.”

You clenched your eyes shut, then you opened them again. Like a child, trying to blink away the remnants of a nightmare after just waking up. “I’m so—”

“Stop talking.” In his defense, he didn’t yell, he knew how much you hated it. He did yell, he didn’t throw a tantrum, not like you would’ve, not like you were about to by the time he stepped forward, crossing whatever ridiculous boundary you were so convinced he had to respect. You moved to shrink into yourself, but he grabbed you before you could collapse, catching you by the bicep and latching onto your hip, refusing to let you fall and make him seem like the bad guy. You already had your fun. You’d already gotten away with enough. You had to know he would put his foot down eventually, and you didn’t have the right to seem so shocked, when he finally did. “Just stop talking. Shut up. Don’t say a goddamn word until I tell you to, fucking brat.”

Now, now, you were crying, tears welling in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks, your entire body trembling like he’d ever given you a reason not to trust him, like he’d ever hurt you a reason to think he had anything but your happiness in-mind. He couldn’t bring himself to care, not about the tears, not about the excuses you were stumbling through, and not about the way you were holding yourself, your arms crossed over your stomach and your nails embedded in your sides, a moment away from drawing blood. He just couldn’t bring himself to care.

You didn’t say anything, but he still shook his head, sighed, made a show of cupping your cheek and idly brushing away your tears. “It’s my fault,” He admitted, letting the disappointment seep into his voice, allowing his tone to dip into something superior. Compared to your whimpering, at least. “I trusted you to get better on your own, and I shouldn’t have. I thought you could pull yourself together, but clearly, I was wrong. You just can’t do anything on your own, can you?”

You looked like you wanted to say something, to argue. You didn’t, but you looked like you wanted to, and that was enough to make his heart skip a beat on its own.

“I’m tired of this.” Just as quickly as he took you up, he let you go, watching in silence as you struggled to stay on your feet. “Go to your room. Yours, not mine. I don’t want to look at you if you’re going to act like I’ve done anything but help you.”

You looked at him, at that, met his gaze for the first time since you decide doing so was a death-wish. It was only for a breath, a fraction of a second, but he still saw it – that spark, that light, that hint of something other than thoughtless, blank fear. It wasn’t positive, the adoration he would’ve liked or the resigned neutrality he would’ve tolerated, but it was something. It was something, and it had been so, so long since you’d given Keigo anything.

He couldn’t make you love him. He’d tried, he failed, and he’d tried again and made thing worse. It was over. He just couldn’t do it.

But, he was beginning to think you didn’t need to love him. Not as much as he loved you. Not at all, really.

Not if he could get you to hate him enough to make up the difference.

[exxay]

Spoiler Alert, Ptilopsis' voice in her head is a lot more deadlier than we thought

With the release of the Operator Modules, HG has taken a very interesting decision into how they want to incorporate them.

And of course, just like OD, they decided to fucking kill it.

Currently, we only have a translation of Ptilopsis' module, and holy hell there's a lot to dig into, so let's start sentence by sentence:

"If Originium really has the power to store information, then we can decrypt and translate, the whole Columbian scientific technique will soar again!"

"I reached a bottleneck. The current electronic calculation facilities are insufficient to deal with the complex amount of signals from Originium. I need a more suitable calculation device."

So basically, it all started with a researcher's revelation in that-an originium shard can act as a goddamn rtx3090+corsair memory module on steroids. And with it, send Columbia into a technological revolution. Except, they're trying to fit into a 16-bit cpu. So they needed a better one.

"Using humans to calculate?! This is a daring thought, I... need to consider the feasibility."

Love how instead of commenting on it's ethicality, the first thing they think of is "Can it work?", Just a small reminder of how inhumane Rhine Labs are.

"The creation of a human decryption system model has been completed. Now, we need an experimental subject with clear thought and quick reflexes. Best to have good understanding of calculators and data."

So the PC is built, now they just need a case for it, and it had to be a really good one to, they don't wanna waste it.

"The candidate has been selected. Experiment subject codename: Ptilopsis."

And lo and behold, why not choose the living computer herself?

"There is nobody else more suitable than her in the whole Rhine. Although the head suggested to conceal the experimental risks, but I still let her know about the various possibilities of the experiment. This is my duty as a citizen of Columbia, and as a person."

Showing just how amazing Ptilopsis, alongside another reminder of Rhine Labs' way of doing things. Don't let the little text about the person asking for their consent, if MuMu has shown us anything, for all we know Ptilopsis could have been "Convinced"/ But that's probably just an assumption, she could have very well thought that it was for the best.

"She agreed. She agreed! I just know, I just know she would agree! I didn't choose the wrong person!"

Then again, who really knows?

"The preliminary main points and operation procedure has been taught. She learns quickly. Tomorrow, the experiment will begin. I believe that we can embrace Columbia's future with open arms!"

"The experiment was very successful. Various data are within the controlled boundaries. As long as this pace is followed, a little, a little... No, no no no, it shouldn't be! Quick, quickly shut it down--"

Honestly, were we expecting anything less? Experiment was going amazingly right, until everything went horribly wrong.

"Emergency measures have been activated in time, but she still... received injury. The brain..."

And so comes into play, "The voice", more details further in.

"And Oripathy..."

No shit, infused originium shards? Didn't they learn from Ifrit? Or maybe, Ptilopsis came BEFORE Ifrit? Hmm, so many revelations.

"(Intermittent crying sounds)"

No idea whose these are, but most likely? It could be Ptilopsis herself, or maybe the researcher, they seemed to have more morals than we thought.

"The higher-up has already requested for resuscitation. But, but like this..."

Wait? Resuscitation? Holy shit did they send her into Clinical Death? Holy fuck. And what's with the hesitation? Was she gonna be even deader?

"It's my fault, it's all my fault..."

Yup, more morals than usual.

"According to the message that she received before, I made a chip that can be inserted into the human body. This thing should be able to replace some of the functions of her brain."

Ok wow, so, Ptilopsis, already knowing shit was gonna fuck up somehow (Thanks' Milo), asked to make a backup chip than be inserted to the human body. So that she'll still pull through, pretty hardcore.

Wait? Like the promotion chips? Does that mean the promotion chips are inserted into the operators we use? Or are they different chips?

"Some department heads laud this idea a lot, hmm, I know what they are thinking."

Oh, so if I'm interpreting this right, some -not all- of the heads in Rhine were against this, but obviously, not because of anything ethical mind you.

"The implantation worked. She had no reaction."

"She woke up! But some problems occurred... in her language abilities."

"Error Hase"

"She tells me, there is another voice in her mind. A voice that does not belong in the boundary of known language. This thing will put a heavy burden on her psyche."

"The pain can only be reduced by using a robotic language system."

Ahhh, the voice, just like how Ifrit has a "voice" in her head constantly arguing and vying control. But we all know that it isn't just a voice, it's a literal fucking ENTITY, so does that mean Ptilopsis also has her own entity she constantly holds back? And just like what she tells us in her third trust line.

According to Ptilopsis "It is, in fact, quite burdensome to speak in this manner. But this is a necessary measure to prevent the system nexus from being devoured by that other voice. Doctor, if I become rampant, please guide me back onto the right path."

Love how it shed's more light onto such a mysterious habit that i wanted to know of.

"She is the first living person in Columbia with an implanted chip. This is an achievement."

"But to her, the land is no longer the same."

Sad for Ptilopsis, she can't look at anything the same anymore, though overall this sheds some more light on her relationship with Silence. More at the end.

Wait a minute-

"I also implanted a chip in my brain. Now the wound still hurts a little. But I want to know, what change did the information from Originium bring to her."

Oh, oh no.

"That voice, what is it?"

OH NO

"I will repeat the experiment." --Rhine Lab, Unknown project leader, recorded.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOO

Unknown Researcher whyyyyy, you were so close, you were so close to greatness!!!!

Anyways, "repeat" would imply that Ptilopsis is actually the original subject, meaning she was the first to be implanted with artificial originium shards, and sub sequentially, artificially infected.

This could also mean that Silence learns about Ifrit's existence through Ptilopsis, and then leading to the "Flame Demon Incident".

Ptilopsis considers Silence her closest friend and Savior, in fact, even being more than willing to participate in a "Secret Project" of hers, which she SHOULD be reporting to the higher ups instead. It could still be her being a bit rebellious instead of being close friends, but as she said.

"I met Dr. Silence at Rhine Lab. I provided big data analysis and risk evaluation for her on a secret project."

Hmm, more to think about.

Speaking of, whenever we think of the "Flame Demon Incident" we think of Saria, Silence and Ifrit, but what about Ptilopsis? Silence would have probably learned about it on her own since she was helping oversee the project, but how would she learn of the, ehem, "Less well known aspects." Though that's just speculation on my part

So much to think about, what about you? What do you think about it?

Personally? Call McDonalds cuz I'm McFUCKING LOVE IT

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Dad...I’m Bilingual

Read here on AO3!

Summary: 

Dick hums—a quiet, sleepy sound. He’s drifting, but only slightly. The painkillers are doing their job. “It’s dumb,” he says. “I can beat up bad guys an’ stop an apocalypse, but I can’t even tell my own dad I’m bilingual.”

Bruce just stares at him. Realization kicks in a moment later. “Do you mean bisexual?”

“Yeah, bionical.” He said that, didn’t he? Bruce must be getting slow in his old age.

When he wakes up, the first thing that Dick’s sluggish mind can latch onto is how tingly his tongue feels. His taste buds buzz like someone poured a can of Pepsi into his mouth while he was sleeping, bubbles tickling the path down. Or maybe pop rocks. Or tiny little bumblebees, their legs scritching and scratching the surface they tread. The tingling spreads outward, Dick notices as he careens toward the wakeful part of wakefulness. Mouth to neck to torso to fingers to the cement block that he is pretty sure used to be his right leg. Soda and pop rocks and bees, the whole way. A quiet, questioning groan slips through Dick’s heavy lips. He cracks his eyes open and squints, blinking against the unforgiving brightness of the room he’s in. “Mm. Bruce?” A nearby chair squeaks. “Dick? Are you awake?” Bruce’s voice is uncomfortably close, booming in the short space between them. Dick grimaces. “C’n you...back up? Your breath smells like meatloaf.” He opens his eyes fully and is greeted by Bruce’s lined face, bags sagging under his eyes. They’re in a hospital room, white walls and white sheets.

Bruce’s meatloaf breath huffs once in amusement, then retreats. “I’ll take that to mean you’re back up, then.” In his lap is a magazine laid open to a page that’s all squiggles and bumbled lines. It matches the rest of the room. Dick’s head swims.

The numbness has receded mostly now that Dick is back online, but his stubborn cement leg takes longer to reboot. “Feels like I died. Then came back to life. Then died again.” His mind churns slush and soup. “You did just get out of surgery,” Bruce tells him. “Leslie said you’ll be woozy for a few hours.” Dick frowns. “I can’t feel my leg.” He has to parse his words carefully, his mouth working slowly like his muscles have melted into molasses. “I should hope not. You just had your knee put back together.” That part sounds...somewhat familiar? Dick has mismatched memories of surfing a stop sign across Clayface’s back, then sirens so loud and so close they split his head in half. He remembers Leslie yelling into one ear while the other listened to Bruce and Steph arguing about a video she uploaded to the Batman Incorporated Twitter account. That was completely irresponsible, Bruce said, out of his Batman suit and in one of the backup outfits he has stored in Leslie’s office for nights like that one. You’re lucky he only broke his knee. That stunt earned the Bat brand fifty Twitter followers, Steph snarked back. I need a goddamn vacation, Leslie said. “Tim left to crash a jet ski in the harbor,” Bruce continues, though Dick doesn’t remember asking, “so your alibi is taken care of. Jason and Cass went to track down the pudding cart, and Alfred took Damian home to sleep.” The half-drawn curtains make it hard to decide if that’s a sunrise or a sunset he’s seeing. Either way, it speaks to long hours of sitting and waiting and hoping. “I think…” Dick licks his dry lips. “I think they cut my leg off?” It feels like it. Did Leslie take his leg away as punishment for being dumb? Is the hospital hiding it from him? Bruce snorts. “Then what is that?” He gestures to Dick’s leg, the entire thing encased in weighty layers of gauze and plaster. “An imposter,” Dick says. Duh. “They gave me fake metal parts like Vic.” Dick slumps against the pitifully flat pillow behind his head. “My brain feels fuzzy. Did they take stuff out of my head?” That would explain the foggy memories and the way all of his words swim away from him like he’s been plunged underwater. Underwater hospital. Now there’s an idea. “You’re on painkillers,” Bruce says plainly, licking his thumb and turning the page of his magazine. “Heavy ones, it looks like.” Dick can’t remember if painkillers are supposed to feel like bumblebees buzzing around inside his thoughts. Maybe they’re made of honey. “Y’know, last time I woke up all confused in a hospital room, a bullet stole secrets from my head.” Bruce looks pained. “I assure you that all of your secrets are intact this time around.” Dick hums. “You should...take the painkillers out.” “Why is that?” “‘Cause I don’t wanna spill stuff.” Bruce frowns. He doesn’t say anything for so long that Dick wonders if he spoke in Portuguese by mistake. Bruce places his magazine on the plastic chair beside him. “Well, I can’t take out the IV because you’ll be in pain, but I promise you that the room is safe. Tim checked for bugs.” Why a bug would be in the human hospital, Dick doesn’t know. He shakes his head. The front pieces of his hair fall into his eyes, but his arms are too tired to fix it. “That doesn’t work, ‘cause then...then you’ll know. And that’s bad.” “This isn’t about your secret identity, is it?” Another head shake. “I might acci-mentally tell you ‘bout how I spilled tapioca on the Batmobile’s seats.” Bruce’s eyes widen. “That was you?” “Yeah, but don’t tell Bruce, ‘kay? You gotta promise.” Bruce rubs his temples like he’s sleepy. “I spent ten minutes yelling at Jason for that. I made him clean the seats.” “Yeah, ‘cause you’re an asshole.” Dick huffs, blowing at his pesky bangs until Bruce rolls his eyes and pushes them back for him. “Thank you.” “I appreciate you telling me about the tapioca. We’ll talk more about that when you’re sober.” Dick makes a face. “The whole point’s that I can’t tell you about the tapioca. It’s a secret. I’ve got too many of those—a whole big fuckin’ army of secrets. And it’s too many. No fun when you can’t share ‘em.” “What about Nightwing?” Bruce asks. “‘S different. You already know that one. I can share it.” “But you can’t share the other ones,” Bruce finishes. Dick snaps his fingers. “Zactly.” Bruce studies Dick—his bundled-up leg and the clear bag hanging on the hook beside his bed, pumping drugs into his bloodstream. “I should let you rest.” He starts to get up, the action somehow guilty despite there being no inherent guilt in vacating a chair. Bruce can pour guilt into anything if he tries hard enough. “You wanna know the worst part?” Dick continues on like Bruce hadn’t spoken, words spilling freely over compromised lips. “I could tell you. I could. But I’m a scaredy cat, so I can’t.” Reluctantly, Bruce sits back down. “I don’t know about that. I think you’re very brave.” “I’m not. If I was, I’d be able to tell you, because I know you’ll still love me no matter what I am, and I’m still scared. And that’s what scaredy cats do. They run away.” When Bruce’s face wears that expression, that gentle turn of his mouth and that pang in his eyes, Dick is stricken by memories of being nine years old. He’d go out every night in the Robin suit, wearing it like a suit of armor and trusting that nothing could hurt him. Bruce would be there by his side, protecting his Robin from harm at all costs. His soul wrapped around Dick’s like a second layer of armor, and it was then that Dick started to wonder if it was possible to have two fathers. “There’s nothing wrong with being scared sometimes,” Bruce tells him now. “There is if you’re a superhero.” “Even then. Sharing a secret can be a scary thing, even when you know it’s safe. That’s why they stay secret for so long.” If Dick didn’t know any better, he’d think that Bruce already knew what Dick desperately wanted and didn’t want to say. But not even Batman can read minds. Dick hums—a quiet, sleepy sound. He’s drifting, but only slightly. The painkillers are doing their job. “It’s dumb,” he says. “I can beat up bad guys an’ stop an apocalypse, but I can’t even tell my own dad I’m bilingual.” Bruce just stares at him. Realization kicks in a moment later. “Do you mean bisexual?” “Yeah, bionical.” He said that, didn’t he? Bruce must be getting slow in his old age. Bruce leans back in his chair with an odd, bemused expression. It’s not an angry one—more like when he’s cracked a case and lets the truth soak in. What case he’s cracked, Dick doesn’t know. Puzzlement morphs into something soft. “Okay. You’re bisexual. That’s not so bad.” “Yeah. But it would change stuff if you knew.” “Not exactly,” Bruce says. “You’re still you, Dick. Nothing’s changed—not really.” “Mm.” Dick’s chest warms. That must be a delayed effect of the painkillers, surely. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime, then. Later,” he amends. “When my head’s not full of mothballs.” “Sure, son.” Bruce reaches out to ruffle Dick’s hair. “Whenever you’re ready to tell me, I’ll listen.”

[peach-skull]

Forever yours

Forever yours

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

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tags/TW

Unprotected sex, dry humping, pregnancy mention, cumming inside, childhood friends to lovers, facesitting, shiggy being his nasty self, no quirks au, fluff adjacent 

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You would get a turn once he died. That’s how it was: That’s how it had been ever since you two were children. Tomura rarely died in video games, so if you wanted a turn you either had to whine until he gave in or wait until he was too focused to notice you take it from him until it was too late. However, you weren’t interested in video games today. You were interested in him. In his soft blue hair, his long, slender fingers, his beautiful crimson eyes. You were head over heels for your best friend since childhood, Tomura Shigaraki. It was a terrible,  roiling mixture of puppy love and sheer lust. You wanted to go on long walks and hold his hand. You also wanted him to bend you over a table and fuck you until your legs gave out. 

“ Tomu.”

He didn’t answer you, too absorbed in his game to pay attention to anything else. You huffed and tapped him with your foot.

“Tomura!”

Shigaraki muttered something unintelligible and paused his game, looking at you over his shoulder.

“ What do you want, (Y/N)?”

Showtime.

“ I have, uh, a personal question for you”

He grabbed an energy drink and took a sip.

“ Just ask it already.”

You needed to ask this casually. Like you couldn’t care less about the answer. Just making friendly conversation.

“ You’re still a virgin, right?”

He choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering as he tried to think of an answer. Who just asks shit like that?! You better not be making fun of him.

“ That’s none of your goddamn business,asshole.”

Based on his reaction alone, he had to be. You shrugged casually and adjusted one of your thigh-highs, smoothing your pleated skirt once it was back in position. You had worn them especially for him: you knew him long enough to know what he liked.

“ I’ll take that as a yes. So am I. I want to lose it but like, with the right person y’know? Not some rando, or like, a boyfriend who’ll sour the experience if we break up.”

You have never used ‘like’ in a sentence so many times in your life. Or used the word rando. 

“ so I was thinking, wouldn’t it be way easier to do it with someone you already trust? Like a close friend . so what if we, Y’know, helped each other ou-

SLAM. before you could even finish your question, Shigaraki had moved from the foot of the bed to the headboard, straddling you with his hands gripping above your head. 

He loomed above you, a massive cheshire grin plastered on his flushed face.

“ You aren’t fucking with me, right? You’re being serious? You actually wanna fuck?”

You didn’t expect him to be so enthusiastic about it. You thought he would decline, or accept in a less...intense manner. He was panting and leering and- was he seriously drooling? As if to answer your question, a drop of spit landed on your chest. Maybe a keyhole sweater wasn’t the best thing to wear today. 

“N-no, I'm not messing around, Tomu. I-I want… I want to have sex with you.”

Tomura quickly laid on top of you, pinning you down and shoving his tongue into your mouth. You had never been kissed before.  You tried to keep up with him, but he was just so rough that it was difficult to do so.You put your trembling hands oh his shoulders and tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position. He snickered and began to grind against your lap, completely misunderstanding what you were trying to do. You pushed his face away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. 

“ Get off for a second, I need to move my legs.”

Tomura rolled his eyes but did as you said, crawling backwards on all fours. More of a scuttle, really. You lifted your skirt and spread your legs, revealing your string-tie panties.  You didn’t even get the chance to tell him to come back before he pounced, rutting against your covered pussy and latching onto your neck. You could feel the seam of his jeans rubbing on your clit as he frantically humped you. It felt better than you thought it would: his weight on you, the teeth on your throat, the grind of his hard cock on your aching sex. You were getting close to the edge already, moaning and grabbing onto his hoodie as you  tried not to finish.

“T-Tomura! Please slow down, I- ah! I’m- I don’t want to cum from kissing! Please, just s-stop for a second!”

Goddammit, he was so close. It hurt to pull away from the warm embrace of your thighs, but he grit his teeth and did it anyways. You had a point: cumming from dry humping alone was a little pathetic. Shigaraki sat back on his heels and surveyed the damage.

Your skirt was pulled up past your stomach. One of your thigh highs had rolled all the way down to your ankle and your neck was covered in bruises. The hole in the chest of your sweater had slipped, exposing the top of your nipples. You weren’t wearing a bra. Holy shit, you weren’t wearing a bra. You had waltzed over to his house and sat on his bed in thigh highs and a sailor skirt and one of those sweaters with a boob window and NO FUCKING BRA. Tomura jumped off of the bed and pulled down his pants without bothering to unzip them. As you stared at the absolute monster of a cock that your best friend somehow had tucked away just moments ago, you only had one question on your mind.

“ um, Shiggy?”

You only called him that when you were particularly nervous. Tomura tore off his hoodie, his shirt going along with it and threw them both on the ground.

“ Why the hell is your dick so goddamn big?!”

 He looked down at his crotch as if he had absolutely no clue that his cock was roughly the size of a coke bottle. He looked at you and shrugged.

“ No idea. It’s always been like this, can I fuck your tits?”

He had to be joking.

“What?!”

“ Can you give me a titjob? Please?! I’m really close! It’ll take like two minutes, I swear!

If you weren’t madly in love with this man, you’d put him and his stupid horse cock in a shallow grave.

“ Yeah, yeah, just gimme a sec…”

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to him, grinning wildly.

“ Lay down over here and put your boobs on my lap. This’ll be great,I swear.”

Shit, why did he have to be so cute?! You grumbled about various grievances you had with your friend and his dopey smile and that scar on his lips and and his stupid fucking fat dick as you got off his bed and walked over to where he was sitting. You stood in front of him and took off your sweater, chucking it into his face.

“ I swear to GOD if you choke me with that thing, I’ll bite it off. No head-pushing, Understand?”

He just smiled and nodded his head rapidly. 

You turned around and took your skirt off, bending over afterwards to roll up the rogue stocking that had decided to slip. While you were busy trying to keep the damn thing from falling again, Tomura grabbed the strings tying your panties together and tugged, undoing the bows and yanking them off of you.

“HEY!”

He held the underwear up to get a closer look. They were white and (f/c) striped, with lace and a little bow on top. Absolutely adorable. He was going to add them to his collection when you weren’t looking,but he just couldn't resist pressing his face into the damp fabric and inhaling deeply.

Was this motherfucker seriously sniffing your panties right in front of you?! You snatched the cloth away from him and threw them across the room, safe from his nasty clutches. For now.

“ Heh, sorry about that (Y/N). You always smell so good, I couldn’t help myself.”

That really shouldn’t have made your stomach flutter the way it did. You laid on the bed, lowering your chest onto Tomura’s lap. He ran his hand down your back and slapped your ass, laughing when you yelped out of pain and surprise.

“ Raise your hips. I can’t have you doing all the work now can I?”

He lowered his hand past your ass, but his fingers couldn’t reach your clit, stopping a few centimeters short. He grumbled and leaned to the side, trying his best to figure out a position that would let him rub your clit and finger your dripping pussy at the same time and gave him the lap titjob he wanted. He might have miscalculated, but that couldn’t be: it looked great in the hentai he saw a couple weeks ago, so it should work just fine IRL!

“ Tomura, this position is kinda weird. I don’t think this is going to work the way you think it will.”

“ Yes it will! C’mon, just raise your hips a little more-”

You looked up at him as best you could from the awkward position on his lap.

“ You saw this in a doujin, didn’t you?”

After around five minutes of arguing about whether or not Tomura’s stupid position would ( or even could) work, you decided to take initiative by pushing him down  and sitting on his face. How else were you supposed to shut him up? 

“ Sorry, Tomu. This was the only way to get you to be quiet. Seriously, who the hell gets into an argument about hentai in the middle of a hookup? There’s a time and place for everything, dumbass.”

You drooled into your palm to make impromptu lube before wrapping your hand around the head of his cock, smearing your saliva and his precum around as you jerked him off. You had never given a handjob before, but if the moans sending vibrations straight to your  core where anything to go on, you were doing a pretty good job. You grabbed the back of his head and ground against his face, giggling when his cock twitched.

“ C’mon, make me cum! Don’t you wanna get to the main event? I want you to rail me until I can't walk. Don’t you wanna fuck me, Tomura? Do you wanna slam that fat cock into my tight little pussy or not?”

He’d always been fun to tease, but never like this. There was a sort of power in it now: you had him right where you wanted him. Or so you thought.Shigaraki growled and grabbed your ass to hold you still. He was sick and tired of you always messing with him. Elbowing him during multiplayer games so he would mess up.Taking the last sip of his energy drink, not even thinking of the indirect kiss. Filling his room with the smell of your perfume after a day of hanging out and then just leaving him alone to masturbate to the thought of you. 

“ Aw, are you getting cranky, Tomu? I’m almo-”

He licked  along your folds before getting to your clit. He drew slow circles with his tongue before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking harshly. He flicked his tongue over your clit, adding a maddening amount of stimulation to the already overwhelming act. You squealed and tried to pull away, but his grip on you was too strong. 

“ Oh fuck! It’s too much, I’m not gonna be able to - ah!- be able to focus on what I’m doing here!”

Tomura didn’t give a fuck about what you where trying to do. He cared about revenge. And if revenge came in the form of eating your pussy until you cried, then so be it. He had no plans of stopping : your bittersweet taste and your thighs squeezing his head was too damn good. He stopped sucking with a loud pop and shoved his tongue  deep inside of you. He didn’t have a lot of experience ( he had 0 experience) but he had heard enough stories from his more socially savvy friends to know that you were supposed to keep your hands, mouth, or toys on the clit at all times. Keeping this advice in mind, he rubbed his thumb over your clit.

This was ridiculous. How was he this good at eating pussy? He was supposed to be the same as you: an inexperienced virgin. Maybe all that porn he watched did some good. You had no idea. All you knew for certain was that if he got the upper hand, you’d never hear the end of it. Your efforts had slowed due to Shigaraki’s distraction. You gripped his cock harder and moved your hand faster. Tomura moaned and bucked his hips. With the amount of precum that was leaking out, he had to be close. 

He didn’t want to let you win, but your hand was making it impossible to focus. It was just so damn soft: nothing like his rough, calloused fist. Tomura had no idea how he was going to go back to his left hand after this. If your hand was this good, what was your cunt going to feel like? It really hit him then. He had been fantasizing about it for years, and now it was actually going to happen. He was going to fuck you. The mere thought of it caused the tension in his stomach to break, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his throbbing cock and landing on his torso. The look on his face was driving you insane: bright red, eyes rolled back in his skull, brows crinkled in a way you had always found adorable. You threaded your fingers through his hair with both hands and started desperately humping his face. You wanted to cum,needed to cum: you just wanted him to fuck you already. You had waited for years. You finally came with a wail, crushing his head between your thighs as you rode out the high of your long-awaited orgasm.

It took you several seconds to remember that your friend probably needed to breathe. You got off of him as quickly as you could on your trembling legs. 

  “ Are you okay, Shiggy? I didn’t mean to suffocate you: it just felt so good that I lost control…”

Shigaraki quickly sat up. He was doing great: just had the best nut of his entire life, got his head squeezed and his hair pulled, and he was going to lose his virginity to the girl he had pined over for nearly his entire life. How could he be doing anything other than amazing?!

“ I'm good.”

You looked at the mess all over his chest. How was it even possible to cum that much and still be hard? Was that just how much there always was? Did he need to see a doctor?

While the gears turned in your head, Tomura grabbed a shirt from the floor and wiped himself off, tossing the soiled fabric away once he was done. The sheer nastiness of that snapped you out of your confused state. You were about to say something when he beat you to it.

“ What position do you want to do?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know, like doggy, or cowgirl, or wheelbarrow-”

You didn’t think wheelbarrow was an actual position, but you really didn’t want to get into another argument right now. You were gonna call him out on it later, though.

“ I’d like to do missionary.”

Tomura nodded sagely. Missionary was a classic. A bit basic, but it would do.

“If you’re ready, let’s move on to the next level”

You nodded, too nervous to speak. He shuffled slowly towards you, hands shaking and arms outstretched. He needed to be cool about this: he came on a bit strong after your proposal earlier. You laid on your back and resisted the urge to cover your face with your hands. You had wanted this for such a long time, but he was just so big and he was seeing you naked and he was actually kind of muscular without his clothes on and- for fucks sake was he seriously drooling again?! 

Shigaraki quickly wiped the drool away from his mouth. You were just so beautiful. You looked scared,though-was it the drooling? He couldn’t help that! He started to scratch his neck- a habit that he just couldn’t seem to break. Even if it meant that he wasn’t going to get to have sex today, he needed to make sure that you still wanted this.

“ Are you okay? We can… we can stop i-

“NO! I mean- n-no, I’m fine. Just- just be gentle, okay?

Gentle. He could do that. Just go slow, don’t go in all the way, and probably no biting. Wait, didn’t he need a condom? It must not be that big of a deal if you didn’t bother to bring it up, right? Yeah, he could just pull out.

Tomura grabbed the base of his cock and lined it at your entrance before carefully pushing inside of you. It didn’t hurt nearly as bad as you thought it would: it just stung a little bit. You had expected ripping, bleeding pain before seeing his dick, and kind of assumed you would die after seeing it in all it’s terrifying glory. But no! You were alive and thriving.

Your partner in crime, however, was having a significantly harder time. Your pussy made his fleshlight feel like sandpaper in comparison: he considered burning the stupid peice of silicone after you two were done for being so inferior to the real thing. The fleshlight wasn’t this tight, or this warm, and it didn’t twitch like your pussy did. He honestly felt kind of bad for the times that he used it while thinking of you- not for jacking off to you or anything like that, but for using that piece of shit as a stand-in. It was insulting. Shigaraki figured that it probably wasn’t the best idea to put it in all the way in,but it was taking every ounce of his self-control to not just slam in balls-deep and fuck you into the mattress. 

….. Was he okay? There was a vein bulging on his forehead and he looked damn-near terrified. You were going to have to make the first move again. You put your hands on his waist and pulled him towards you until his hips were flush with yours. Despite the slow entrance, his cock hitting your cervix still knocked the air out of you. It hurt a bit more now, but not nearly enough to stop.

“ I-it’s okay Shiggy, it doesn’t hurt. You can move now..”

Tomura cautiously  pulled backwards a few inches and pressed back inside just as carefully. His first couple of thrusts were a bit awkward, but he soon found a slow, steady rhythm. 

You couldn’t believe how soft he was being. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your collar bone before moving to your breasts, licking your nipple before putting it in his mouth and sucking. His other hand was lightly caressing the opposing mound. It was all so sweet and tender that you almost wanted to cry: you knew that he didn’t feel the same way that you did. But for now, all you could do was stroke his hair and pretend that you were making love instead of just hooking up. 

“Mmmmn, T-tomur-ah!”

This wasn’t fair! He had liked you for years, you were gasping and moaning underneath him, but something unpleasant was still prodding at the back of his thoughts. After this, you were going to find some strong, confident man to take his place. This was just practice. Shigaraki didn’t want this to be practice: he wanted you to be his last. He wanted to be your only. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and started to thrust into you harder. He wanted you to be all his.

“ Mmmineeee...” 

Mine?! Did he just say “mine”?! Did he- did he feel the same way?! No, that couldn't be: you probably just misheard him.

“ um, w-what did you say?”

He snapped his head up and glared at you, his ruby eyes practically glowing.

“ I said mine! I want you to be mine! MY player two, MY pussy,MINE!”

With every repeat of mine he slammed into you a little harder, a little rougher.

“Come on, say it! Say you’ll be mine, (Y/N)!

You felt like such an idiot. Of course Tomura wasn’t going to say that he liked you- this was Tomura you were talking about. But he’d been showing it for years- walking you home, helping you win plushies at the arcade, dying on purpose so you would get a chance to play, giving you his hoodie whenever it was cold out…. How did you not notice? But he was never going to take the final step. So as per usual, it was up to you to take initiative. You put your hand on his cheek and smiled when he nuzzled into your touch.

“ I love you, Tomura. I’ve always been yours.”

He froze at your confession. Oh shit, did you go too far? Was the whole “mine” thing just his idea of dirty talk? Shigaraki pulled out  and moved backwards. Just as you were about to say something, he grabbed your knees and moved your legs up until they were above your head. Was he seriously going to just ignore what you just said?! You just told him that you loved him, for fucks sake!  Did all the blood rushing to his dick leave him braindead? 

Shigaraki knew the look on your face well: narrowed eyes, pursed lips, puffed cheeks. Impatient and suspicious. He’d better not keep you waiting,then. He positioned himself so that his cock was dangling above your exposed hole and leaned in close until you two were nose to nose. 

“ I love you too, (Y/N).”

With your confession returned, he slammed into your waiting cunt in one quick thrust, groaning as he was finally balls-deep inside of your warm,slick pussy. You squealed as he jackrabbited into your core with short, deep thrusts, hitting a spot inside that you’d never been able to reach. The headboard of the bed crashed against the wall loudly, creating a lewd orchestra alongside the squeaking of the bedsprings and your wanton moans. Tomura’s hair fell alongside your face in a soft curtain, making it so he was the only thing you could see. As if you’d look anywhere else.

“ I love you! I love you! I mean it, I love you! You’re gorgeous, you feel so good, I love you! I love you so fucking much! I love you! IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveIloveyouIloveyou-”

You pulled your babbling lover into a deep kiss as the knot inside of your stomach snapped. Your convulsing walls squeezed his cock in a vice grip as you came, nearly sending him over the edge .

“ C-can I cum inside? I don’t wanna pull out! I swear I’ll take responsibility if you get pre- i-if anything happens! Please, let me cum inside of you!”

You could barely think through your haze, so you just nodded your head. Of course he could cum inside: where else was it supposed to go? He wasn’t wearing a condom after all… you probably should’ve made him wear one. Oh well. That was a problem for future (Y/N) to worry about. 

Tomura wrapped his arms around your waist and thrusted his hips one more time before  

Blowing his load directly into your womb, spurt after spurt of creamy white filling you to the brim, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he howled with pleasure.

“Hhhhhhhhh…. I love youuuu…..”

 He let out a contented sigh and flopped on top of you without bothering to take his cock out of your cum-filled pussy. He was too tired- he’d pull out after a nap. You were just as exhausted as he was- cleanup was just another issue future (Y/N) would have to deal with. You yawned and nuzzled into his neck before drifting into a peaceful, messy sleep. 

End

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I wrote this after a debate with @libiraki about who’s dick was worse: Shigaraki or Dabi’s.