#you cannot Love God the Father while living for the world

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [37] - Crown

A.N: Last two chapters! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, violence, I'M SERIOUS THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS ONE, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, it started out as a normal day.

“You are so pretty!” you told Alpine as you fixed the ribbon around her neck, then held up the feathery pen so that she could jump at it while you sat on the floor. “Yes you are! The prettiest princess in the entire world!”

“Charm?”

“Over here!” you called out and heard Bucky come downstairs, then he filled himself a cup of coffee before looking over his shoulder.

“You want some babe?”

“Nope,” you said, stroking Alpine’s fur. “Bucky, what are the chances that we got the prettiest and nicest cat in the entire world?”

“Zero, she’s an asshole.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“I love her, but it doesn’t mean she’s not an asshole,” Bucky said. “She never comes when I call.”

“Because she’s a cat, not a dog,” you said. “If we have a child one day, we’re so calling them Alpine Two.”

“We’re not going to do that.”

“Alpine Two and Alpine Three.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t listen to him, they’ll be Alpine Two and Three,” you told Alpine as Bucky sipped his coffee.

“Do you wanna grab lunch today?”

“I can’t,” you said. “I promised Ethan.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am not having this argument with you again when we’re in love and fucking each other’s brains out every night,” you pointed out, making him grin. “Relax with the jealousy dumbass, you already know I’m in love with you.”

He heaved a sigh, then held up his hands.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Go meet the puppy.”

“Bucky.”

“Is he not a puppy around you?”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “My friend whom I haven’t met in a while.”

“Yeah yeah…”

You scratched at Alpine’s head when she head bumped your knee while Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird since we had dinner at your father’s place.”

“Sure,” you said after a beat and he raised his brows.

“Charm.”

“No I’m fine,” you said. “I’m fine, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?”

“Business,” you said. “My father’s business, to be specific.”

He sipped his coffee. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“God no,” you said. “Of course not. I’m thinking about the consequences of it, that’s all. What it will mean for me.”

“It means the crown for you.”

You pursed your lips together. “And for Ian?”

He scoffed. “Who cares? You hate Ian.”

“Obviously I hate him,” you said. “But I’ll have to kill him, you do know that.”

“He signed his own death warrant the moment he accepted that heir position at the expense of you,” Bucky said. “I’ll kill him for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “How fucked up is it that I find this romantic?”

“That’s because I am romantic,” he said with a smirk. “Seriously. If you want me to—”

“I’ll just cross that bridge when I come to it,” you pointed out. “I appreciate the offer though.”

Bucky checked his wristwatch, then came closer to you to kiss you on the top of your head, and scratched at Alpine’s head.

“Gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Sure!” you said and watched him walk out of the apartment, then heaved a sigh and looked down at Alpine.

“Alright,” you said. “Come on, let’s get you some treats.”

                                             *

The café Ethan had suggested was in your father’s territory, so it was a short car drive. Seeing that the weather was slowly getting cold nowadays, it didn’t surprise you to see Ethan already inside the nearly empty café as you walked in, and waved at him before making your way to him.

“Hey!” you said and he stood up to hug you.

“Hey stranger,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has,” you said, motioning for a cup of coffee at the waitress who forced a smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. You frowned slightly, but then turned to look at Ethan when he cleared his throat.

“So what’s been up with you lately?”

“Absolute chaos,” you pointed out, making him smile. “No seriously, things are just now starting to calm down.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah there was this business thing,” you muttered. “Never mind. How about you? What have you been doing lately?”

“I’m actually…” he paused for a moment. “I’m actually moving back to my hometown.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

“I don’t think New York is for me,” he said as you heard the wind bells chime by the door. “Or any big city for that matter.”

You opened your mouth to ask why, but a strange shiver went down your spine, the hair at the back of your neck rising up as his eyes went over your shoulder. You didn’t even have the time to think, your body seemed to have responded on instinct as the result of many years of training, so you kicked the table in his direction and jumped to your feet, but before you could turn around, two men had already grabbed you by the arms. You managed to kick one of them, turning around to punch the other, but another man caught your fist and turned you around, his friend punching you right on the nose so hard that you knew from the crack that he broke it before the blinding pain shot through your face. You stumbled back as two of them held you by the arms again and another one grabbed his gun, flipped it and slammed it on your head.

Then everything went black.

                                              *

You couldn’t tell which one woke you up, the cold or the burning pain starting from your nose and spreading through your whole head. Your vision was blurry when you forced yourself to open your eyes, now realizing your hands were bound and a groan left your lips as you blinked as fast as you could to see better.

Ah.

Two of Ian’s men were waiting by the door along while Ethan sat across from you, his eyes fixed on the floor. You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach but you forced yourself to focus, there had to be a way out of this—

You just needed to find it.

The room you were in appeared to be a butcher’s freezer, which made you think you were at the edge of your father’s territory. The pain in your head was so heavy that you could barely just hold your head up, let alone moving your body so you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath through your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Ethan’s voice and you turned your head to see him looking down at the gun in his lap, your hands shooting up to wipe the blood on your face before touching your forehead.

Okay, that needed stitches.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated with a dry laugh. “How long have you been working for him?”

He shook his head fervently, rubbing his thumb over the gun.

“I don’t—I didn’t—” he stammered. “He contacted me couple of months ago.”

You raised your brows. “Let me guess, he’s paying you a shit load of money?”

He shook his head again.

“He said…he said he’d kill me if I didn’t...” he muttered. “For God’s sake I never wanted this whole bullshit, I don’t even know how to use—” he pushed at the tiny button beside the gun, the magazine dropping to the floor and a couple of bullets scattering around as one of Ian’s men came closer.

“What the fuck?” he asked him, snatching the gun out of his hand and picking up the magazine before walking to the other side of the room to continue his conversation with the other man. You gritted his teeth, anger pulsing through you.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan repeated and you shook your head.

“You know you’re going to die right?” you asked him. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant by pulling this shit.”

“Civilians aren’t harmed, that’s what the truce—”

“Civilians aren’t harmed as long as they remain civilians,” you corrected him, pulling at the rope around your wrists to loosen it a little. “You’ve just thrown your hat in the ring, buddy. And trust me; if Ian doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill you and if he does manage to kill me, Bucky will hunt you down, and kill you. Torture you first probably too. So regardless of if I die or not, you definitely will Ethan.”

“I’ll move out of the city.”

“There’s no city we can’t reach.”

“That’s not true,” he argued with you. “Everyone is saying Chicago is its own city.”

A small smile curled your lips despite fear churning your stomach, a small spark of satisfaction rushing through you.

“Right,” you said. “Sure. Move to Chicago.”

He swallowed thickly, then turned his head when the door opened and Ian walked in with Ryan. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes fell on your face, but then he gritted his teeth, snapping something at the men by the door under his breath. It was impossible to hear what he had said, but judging by the way it made them step back, it couldn’t be anything nice.

“Hi there cousin,” Ian had the audacity to smile at you as Ethan stood up from his chair.

“I can go right?” he said. “You promised.”

“Sure, some of our boys will accompany you to the border of the city, then you’re on your own,” Ian said. “Thank you for this. New York will owe you.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at Ian as Ethan walked out of the room and Ian tut tutted.

“You just couldn’t help it, could you?” he asked you. “All you had to do was just marry Barnes and give him an heir, and then you could spend money and do nothing for the rest of your life, but you just couldn’t do it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those are some big words for someone who’s about to die.”

No.

You couldn’t let panic take over your mind, you just couldn’t.

The safest option was to cling to anger.

“You don’t get to kill me and stay alive, Ian.”

“Oh I won’t be the one who killed you,” he said. “Your ex-boyfriend did. Everyone saw him meet you at that café after all.”

“And you think my dad will buy that bullshit?”

“I’ll make him buy it.”

“You think Bucky will buy that?” you spat and he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, he will come after me,” Ian said. “And that’ll start a war. Too bad.”

You gritted your teeth. “You don’t have the means to survive a war, dickhead.”

“You have no reason to worry about that,” Ian said. “You’re not walking out of here alive after all.”

You licked your lips, the metallic taste of blood reaching your throat as Ian nodded at his men.

“Untie her.”

One of his men came to cut the rope around your wrist and helped you up while the other one pointed his gun at you just in case. The whole room was spinning around you, your heart beating in your throat but you tried to fix your breathing.

It was fine.

It was going to be fine.

“Ryan, my gun,” Ian ordered and Ryan stared at you, then pulled out the gun from his waistband, quickly taking out the magazine to check the bullets before sliding it in again.

“Leave us,” Ian said and Ryan licked his lips, stealing a look at you before he walked outside with the rest of Ian’s men following him. He slammed the heavy door behind them and you clenched your fists, still glaring at Ian.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ian said, pointing the gun at your face. “I did, numerous times. Get on your knees.”

“No,” you said. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me standing.”

Ian took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly.

“As you wish,” he said and raised the gun a little to aim for your forehead, the fear making your eyes burn but you quickly blinked the tears back, forcing yourself to focus on—

Bucky.

It was strange, how it worked. Everyone talked about how this business was dangerous, but no one talked about what one would think when there was a gun about to blow their head off.

There was fear yes, but the memory of happiness shed a small ray of sunlight on it. Knowing Bucky would stop at nothing to take your revenge almost soothed the pain of knowing you would never see him again, at least—

At least in this life.

But you knew you loved him. He knew you loved him.

That was enough, somehow. Even with a gun pointing at your head.

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” Ian recited. “Goodbye, cousin.”

You closed your eyes, holding your breath and bracing yourself for the deafening gunshot but the only thing that echoed through the room was the empty click, making your eyes snap open while Ian gawked at the gun in his hand, fear flashing over his face as he froze.

…Ryan.

Ryan had taken out the bullets.

The adrenaline that roared through you was powerful enough to overcome the fog in your brain or the pain on your face as you lunged at him to knock the gun out of his hand, slamming him back to the heavy door, the unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing outside. Ian shoved you back as hard as he could and tried to swing a punch at you but you quickly dodged it, elbowing him on the nose.

“Welcome to your cage fight, Ian,” you spat as he wiped at his nose.

“You dumb bitch…” he muttered, then swung at you again but you quickly stepped back, grabbed his wrist and turned it with all your strength until you heard the pop, and his yell of pain. He kicked you on the knee hard, making you scream out of pain as you stumbled back, and he tried to grab at you with his other hand but you had already punch him right in the neck, making him gasp and fall on his knees, clutching at his neck.

“You know,” you said, breathing hard as you grabbed the gun off the floor and picked up one of the bullets Ethan had dropped earlier. “I should thank you for this. I was having second thoughts earlier, but now…”

He was still gasping for air as you slid the magazine out, put the bullet inside and slid it back again, making him drag himself back on his palms until his back hit the wall.

“Exile me,” he managed to say, and you tilted your head. “Exile me somewhere else.”

You shook your head, adrenaline making your head spin.

“You know how this shit goes,” you said through clenched teeth. “You tried to kill me. Exiling you isn’t enough.”  

“I’ll forfeit the title!” he said, still breathless and you shook your head again, then pointed the gun at him with a sigh.

“I'm sorry Ian,” you said. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

With that, you pulled the trigger and heard the loud bang before the blood splattered over your face, making you grimace as his body slipped on the floor. You wiped at your face, then slammed open the door to point the gun at whoever was outside, but the only thing you could see was Ian’s men bleeding on the ground while Ryan stood by the door, his back straight as if he was waiting for your order.

“Ma’am,” he said with his hands clasped behind him, and he bowed his head a little as you smiled at him.

“Thank you,” you rasped out, raising your head to stare up at the dark sky before turning to him. “Ryan, is there any chance you’re looking for a new job?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

“Working for your father’s heir would be an honor, ma’am,” he said softly and you let out a small laugh.

“Good,” you said as you limped to the car parked right outside the back alley with Ryan following you. “You’re hired.”

[sweetteainthesummerx]

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[yuujispinkhair]

Mine

Megumi loves you. He loves you so much that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. But past experiences taught him that everyone always ends up leaving him. He cannot let this happen. He will make sure the two of you get your happy ever after!

Halloween Masterlist 2023

This story is my contribution to @nagumoan 's Dance with the Dead Collab. Thank you so much for organizing this lovely Halloween event, Loni!!

Pairing: Megumi x Reader (female) Genre: Yandere Romance, smut Word Count: 9k Warnings: 18+, dark content, yandere Megumi, unhealthy relationship dynamics, possessiveness, murder (Megumi kills someone, but it's not Reader!!), smut, manipulation, gaslighting, baby trapping, breeding, pregnancy. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

The same word keeps repeating over and over again in Megumi's mind as he looks at you lying in his lap. So beautiful. So perfect to him. You look up at him, a small smile playing around your lips, and Megumi's heart throbs.

He smiles back at you while his long fingers pet your hair. His dark blue eyes gaze deeply into yours, letting himself drown in your eyes, in your love, in your trust. You are his. His wife, his lover, his everything. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.

Mine.

Megumi likes that word. It holds a special power. Because what is love if not possessiveness?

If you truly love someone, you should give yourself to them fully. You should commit yourself to them. True love is only true love if it lasts forever. It's the only kind of love Megumi can accept. Everything else is just a lie.

Megumi doesn't think he is a good man.

He believes there is something flawed about his existence. An inadequacy. It lives in his bones, in his blood, in his soul, filling every fiber of his being.

He grew up thinking that there must be something wrong with him. Why else would his father have left him? It must have been because Megumi was lacking something. Because he was not enough.

He always thought he was undeserving of love. That he was cursed to spend his life in the shadows, rejected and lonely.

Until you came into his life and filled his darkness with your light. You showed him another world, another life. A life full of love and affection. It is safe to say he adored you right from the start.

You didn't let him scare you off with his aloof act, with his sarcasm and eye-rolling and rude comments. You saw beneath that act. You refused to let him push you away. You just smiled even brighter at him, took his hand, and pulled him into your world of laughter and warmth and love.

But the problem with stepping into the light is that you don't want to return to the dark afterward. At least, that's how it is for Megumi. You changed him in a devastating way. You gave him everything but also burdened him with the risk of losing everything.

Ever since the day you came into his life, Megumi has been working on keeping you there.

He put a huge diamond ring on your finger after only one year, staking his claim, giving you a promise, and asking for a promise from you in return.

Megumi doesn't do anything less than forever. Lifelong devotion, lifelong commitment. That's what he offers you and what he needs in return. His dark blue eyes searched for your reassurance when he knelt before you, holding your hand gently but firmly in his, offering you all of him. His life, his heart, his loyalty until the end.

He liked what he saw in your eyes. The love and warmth in them had become his everything. When you said yes and became his wife, Megumi knew he would do anything for you and for this love the two of you shared.

Megumi thinks he isn't a good man in general, but he tries his very best for you. He wants to be good for you. He wants to be the man you seem to see in him.

There is something religious about the way he adores you. There never was a God in Megumi's life. No one deserved that title after what life had thrown at him since he was little. But you, you are godly to him.

And Megumi is dedicated to worshiping you like a Goddess. He is dedicated to offering sacrifices at the foot of your altar. He is committed to protecting you, to care for you, to cherish you. To kneel before you, his pretty face pressed against your wet cunt, his strong hands caressing every inch of your skin, his soft lips kissing you, loving you, worshipping your body.

He is there to make your life easier with an endless row of little acts of service, one after the other. Driving you everywhere, preparing a hot bath for you after work, buying your favorite snacks, giving you backrubs and orgasms. Making sure to catalog all of your reactions to his touches so he learns how to fuck you the right way. The way that makes your eyes roll back and cling desperately to him, moaning how good he makes you feel.

Megumi thinks he isn't a good person, but he is a good husband. Maybe not everything about him is flawed. Maybe there is something that's worthy of love. Because that's what you tell him when you cup his face with both your soft hands and smile at him,

"Oh, Megumi, you're doing it again. I can literally see how you are overthinking. Don't worry that much, darling. Don't make everything so hard for yourself. I love you, Megumi. You're the best husband I could ever wish for."

He huffs softly, but a gentle smile lights up his face as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you against his tall, lean-muscled body. He rests his chin on the top of your head, loving how your breathing syncs with his as you snuggle against him.

"I love you too."

And yet, even as he says them, Megumi knows that the words alone aren't enough to convey his feelings for you. But he hopes he can show you how much he loves you.

Fear is a part of Megumi. It was put into him at a young age when the people who were supposed to love him and care for him left him. A mother who died too soon. A father who went to get cigarettes and never returned. A long row of different foster families who only endured little Megumi's grumpy nature and his outbursts of violence for so long before they dropped him. An older sister who did her best to love him and help him, only to get into an accident that made her fall into a coma, leaving an angry, lost, and scared teenage Megumi behind.

It taught Megumi early on that there is nothing in life he can rely on. It taught him that everyone would leave him eventually. It convinced him that some cruel fate was always walking in the shadows beside him, always waiting to dig its claws into Megumi and drown him in loneliness again.

Your light has chased away most of that darkness that haunts Megumi, but a part of it will always remain.

It flares alive when Megumi sees the way your eyes sparkle when your favorite idol appears on the TV screen. When he sees you mouth the lyrics to that guy's song, and you have that little smile on your face and sway your hips gently to the music. A song about love. Do you think about Megumi when you hear it? Or do you imagine a romance with the singer?

It makes Megumi shove the limited edition of the new album you brought home into the trash when you are at work the next day and act innocent when you search feverishly for it. He tells you that he saw it just yesterday evening lying on top of the books you wanted to return to the library after work today. You might have accidentally put it in the bag, and it must have slipped out while you were at the library. You know how clumsy you can be. But it's ok, don't worry about it. He loves you, and now let him kiss you so you forget about that CD!

The darkness flares alive when Megumi sees you carefully applying your makeup and styling your hair in the morning before work. Why do you feel the need to make yourself look so pretty for your coworkers? You shouldn't care about what they think of you.

"Darling, you've already taken up the bathroom for twenty minutes."

He walks up behind you and slings his arms around your waist, long fingers sprawling possessively over your hips as he leans down to kiss your neck. He gets a whiff of your perfume, the sexy one, the one he always associates with you under him, moaning his name and looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders and he turns his head to kiss your ankle and breathe in the soft traces of perfume.

Cold fear forms a knot in his stomach, and his fingers tighten on your body.

"You dress up like you are going on a date... It's only work. Don't waste so much time on your makeup. Join me on a morning walk instead. Hm? What do you say, my love? The dogs would be happy too if you join us."

He sounds calm, a bit amused even. Carefully constructed criticism, so it won't make you think he is jealous. Megumi knows jealousy is a reason for many relationship problems and breakups. So, he is careful to hide his genuine emotions. He is careful to veil his true intentions behind this mask of playful teasing.

You laugh softly and lift your head to look at him in the mirror. Your small hands land on Megumi's and interlace your fingers with his.

"Aww baby, does that mean you think I look pretty?"

You playfully bat your eyelashes at him in the mirror, and Megumi's lips lift in a soft smile.

"Of course I do. My wife always looks beautiful."

He loves the feeling of your wedding ring pressing against the matching ring on his finger. He trails more kisses down your neck with growing urgency. Maybe he should show you how much he treasures you. Maybe he should remind you who you belong to. Maybe if he fucks you good enough, he will be the only one on your mind while you're at work.

His hands slip under your skirt, pushing it up as he watches you in the mirror, blue eyes looking intently as he brushes his long fingers slowly over your panty-clad pussy, rubbing your clit tenderly through the thin fabric.

He can see your lashes flutter, can see the way your lips fall open, even as a weak complaint leaves them,

"Megumi... not now. I will be late for work..."

But Megumi knows what he's doing, and soon your resolve breaks, and you are putty in his hands, leaning against him as he kisses and caresses you. Whining softly as he pushes your panties to the side and rubs your swollen wet clit in tender circles, spreading your creamy wetness over your silky folds, driving you crazy with his tender touches.

Your hands grab the sink tightly when he pushes two long fingers into your wet creamy heat, fucking you slowly with them until you are on the brink of cumming all over his hand.

His heart feels so full, and he can't help but smile when you tremble in his arms and whine and moan, begging him to please fuck you for real.

You cling desperately to him when he lifts you up and carries you back to the bedroom. You moan his name needily when he fucks you hard into the mattress, in a mating press, pressing your knees to your chest so he can go extra deep, rolling his hips slowly against yours, basking in the sounds of your wet pussy, taking his cock. Feeling light-headed upon hearing the noises you make for him, the soft mewls and loud moans.

He tells you to look at him, so he can get the reassurance of seeing the pleasure on your face and the love in your eyes when you cum for him, pussy clenching greedily around him, milking his cock as if you never want to let him go again.

He groans in satisfaction, eyes finally closing when he feels his orgasm wash over him, his cock twitching and spilling his seed deep inside you.

Afterward, Megumi helps you put on your panties again, pulling them up, even as you complain,

"W...wait, baby. I have to wash up first."

His blue eyes are stern when he looks at you and shakes his head.

"No, go like that. I want you to be my good girl and walk around all day with my cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. Think about me anytime you feel it. Think about how much I love you, darling. And once you come back home, I will fill you up again. Will you do that for me? Will you be my good girl?"

You bite your lip and grin at him, obviously turned on by his words,

"Ok, sir. I'll be your good girl."

You let him pull up your panties again and fix your skirt for you, moaning when he kisses your cheek and praises you for being so good for him.

Megumi feels much more at ease again when he drops you at work. You kiss him goodbye a bit longer and deeper than necessary, your tongue flicking against his, whispering against his lips before you part from him,

"That was such a hot morning, baby."

He feels calm and reassured when he watches you leave the car and slowly walk towards the entrance of the large building you work in. He even sings along to the music playing on the radio on the drive home and hums a little tune to himself when he takes the dogs for a walk in the park before he leaves for work.

Megumi knows he isn't a good man, but he can't help it.

There is this wolf inside him who watches with cold, narrowed eyes as you say goodbye to your coworker before you jog over to where Megumi is waiting in the parked car for you.

There is this beast inside him that digs its claws into his heart and whispers all those hurtful things into his ear.

Didn't you smile at your coworker a bit too brightly? Didn't you stand a bit too close to him? Didn't you laugh a bit too loud at whatever he said?

Megumi grits his teeth, silently growling at the wolf to shut up and fuck off.

Leave me alone! She loves me. She is my wife.

But the wolf whispers back,

But how long will she be your wife? How long before she finds someone better?

Megumi huffs and hits the steering wheel before he grabs it so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He closes his eyes and counts to ten, trying to calm his breathing.

Just in time before you yank open the passenger seat door and greet him with a broad smile and a loud,

"Heyyy, baby!"

You climb into the seat and lean over to greet him with a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Megumi can't help but reach out to put a hand on the back of your neck, elegant long fingers caressing your skin as he pulls you closer to kiss you on the mouth, a deep possessive kiss, letting you know who you belong to. Hoping that your coworker sees it.

But when he pulls away, Megumi's mask is perfectly in place. Calm, aloof, a soft smile lighting up his pretty face, blue eyes looking deeply into yours as he asks you innocently,

"How was work, sweetheart?"

You sigh and tell him about boring meetings and a workload that is much too high to handle.

He fucks you a bit harder that night, handles you a bit rougher. Harder thrusts, firmer touches. His strong hands capture your wrists, wrap tightly around them, and fix them above your head while Megumi's tall, lean-muscled body presses you down onto the mattress. His face is buried in your neck, groaning softly, whimpering your name and how much he loves you.

He sees the bruises on your wrists at breakfast the next morning, feeling guilt wash over him. Guilt that makes him hug you gently and make your coffee extra good. He breathes tender kisses on your wrists, long black lashes flutter around his dark blue eyes, his voice is low, full of regret,

"It seems I was a bit too rough last night. I am so sorry, darling."

"It's fine, Megumi, please don't worry, baby. I like it when you get so passionate."

Megumi feels the iron grip around his heart loosen. He smiles softly into your hair and kisses the top of your head, wrapping a strong arm around you and hugging you. He likes that you are so much smaller than he is, the way your face rests against his toned chest. The way you snuggle into his strong arms, sighing happily when Megumi hugs you even tighter. The way you seek the safety of his arms and the warmth of his body. The way you trust him so completely.

When Megumi pulls away, he takes your left hand and brings it to his lips to place a lingering kiss on the large sparkling diamond on your wedding ring.

Mine.

"And then she threw her stuff into a suitcase and just left!"

Your eyes are sparkling excitedly, hands gesturing wildly as you sit across from Megumi at the dinner table, apparently finding great joy in re-telling the newest drama in your friend group.

Megumi doesn't share your excitement. On the contrary, his blood is rushing loudly in his ears. He feels sick. His hand is clutching the steak knife so tightly that it hurts.

He lifts his gaze from the red juices of the medium rare meat building a little sea on the white plate. His blue eyes narrow as he fixes you with a frown,

"And she just threw her marriage away? How long have they been together? Seven years? And she just left him?"

"Megumi! Didn't you listen? He forgot her birthday! And he spent more and more time playing his online games instead of doing things with her! She was frustrated!"

And that was enough to end a marriage?

Megumi gulps hard.

Well, that's how the world ticks, right? That's how people tick. They say they love you, but then they just leave. Promises mean nothing. Words mean nothing. They get forgotten, they get twisted, they get taken back.

Seven years.

Your friend had been with her husband for seven years, and she left him because of minor, unimportant things. Instead of fighting for her love, instead of trying to talk to him and fix things, she picked the easy way and left. Just like the way most people do nowadays.

All those breakups, all those divorces. All those single parents and abandoned kids. All the tabloids are full of celebrities who split up after decades of presenting themselves as the happiest couple ever.

How is Megumi still supposed to trust in love? In you? In your feelings for him?

What if your friends put something into your head? What if one of them voices their doubt about Megumi being good enough for you? What if? What if they give you some crazy idea about looking for someone else who is not as flawed as him?

They already advocate giving up on your partner and acting as if being selfish and throwing relationships away is something one should be proud of and celebrate.

Those people are a bad influence on you. He has to do something about this.

It's easy.

He calls his cousin Maki, asking her to meet him for lunch, using family business as an excuse. He knows she will not come alone, and of course, he is right. By her side is her girlfriend Nobara, always so chatty, always so gossipy. The perfect person to help him achieve his goal.

Megumi quickly finishes the business talk with Maki, and then it's time to set his plan in motion. A few comments here and there about you feeling down lately because there seems to be drama in your friend group, and naturally, Nobara is all ears, leaning across the table, asking him for more details, grinning broadly as she soaks up the gossip greedily.

He can stir the pot. He can make up lies. He can make them look bad. He can make Nobara become indignant and invested and already typing a text message furiously.

And nothing will ever get traced back to Megumi. No one would ever think he is the type for gossip. He is a very serious and professional man who wouldn't be caught dead indulging in petty things like that. No one will believe Nobara if she mentions Megumi was involved in this.

And the beautiful thing about gossip is that no one ever finds out who started it. Once it gets released into the world, it grows and mutates until it's so messy that it's like it has its own will. No one can tell anymore who said what.

Megumi leaves with a content smile. He set things into motion today. Now, he just has to wait.

It takes three days until he catches you standing in the kitchen, your coffee forgotten, wiping tears off your cheeks and looking miserably up at him as he walks towards you with concerned blue eyes,

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You sniffle against his chest, your warm tears seeping through the thin cotton of his shirt as you tell him about the drama that escalated quickly. False accusations, one of your friends claiming you talked about her behind her back. You apparently said that she was involved in the split up of your other friend because she had an affair with the husband and wanted him for herself. And now all your other friends bonded with that friend, not believing you when you say you never did any of that.

You are crying and clinging to Megumi, sobbing into his shirt,

"They don't want to be friends with me anymore. They kicked me out of the group chat and everything!"

Megumi's arms tighten around you. He knows he is selfish. He knows he is the worst. His heart breaks for you when he feels you shaking in his arms. But he only did what had to be done. He cannot let those bitches put their dangerous opinions in your head. He cannot let anyone come between you and him. He needs you.

He hates himself for causing you this pain. But he can ease it. He can show you that you don't need those women. You already have a husband who loves you and cares for you.

He is your strong shoulder to cry on, offering you his love, his reassurance, and his compassion as he caresses your back soothingly and whispers sweet words to you.

"I am so sorry, babe. You don't deserve that. Please promise me you won't talk to them again. They don't deserve to call themselves your friends after this. And you'll always have me, darling. I am always here for you."

Megumi hates to be that guy, but he can't stop himself from balling his hands into fists under the table when you tell him about work every evening over dinner. The way your eyes gleam, the way you laugh as you recount the funny conversations you had with your coworkers.

He feels guilty. He knows a good man would be happy for you. But Megumi isn't a good man. And so he sits there stiffly, his fingernails digging painfully into his palms as the jealousy spreads its poison through his blood.

It's not fair that your coworkers get to spend so much time with you. That they have so many inside jokes with you that Megumi simply cannot understand even when you tell him about them. It's not fair that they can make you feel so much. Do you have more fun with them than you have with Megumi?

Probably. He isn't a very fun person. He is too serious, too stern, too controlled. He gulps hard, remembering one incident a year ago when you told him playfully to loosen up a bit. You had smiled and ruffled his hair, but Megumi had felt as if you had stabbed his heart. He had once again felt inadequate. Not enough.

What if you get tired of him? What if you realize that one of your coworkers is a better match for you? That one of them makes you laugh more than Megumi can? That one of them brings more positive energy into your life than Megumi can do?

What if the process of you falling out of love with him and catching feelings for someone else has already started?

Cold fear grips Megumi's heart. He has to do something! You cannot go to work anymore!

But how can he convince you to stay home? It's not like he didn't already try. Megumi is rich. He is the heir of the Zenin family, already a CEO in his mid-twenties. He could easily provide you with everything you need! The moment you were married, he suggested that you could quit your job and become a housewife. He knew lots of women dreamed of this. 

But unfortunately, not you.

You had laughed and rubbed his arm, cooing at him how sweet he was. But no thanks, you wanted to go to work. You liked it there, and you wanted to have something for yourself too!

Megumi's alternate plan had been to ask you to work in his company. Wouldn't it be nice to be in his department? Wouldn't it be nice to be married to your boss?

But you turned his offer down with a smile and a sweet kiss.

"That sounds tempting, babe. But I would hate all the gossip and the accusations. You know how people are. No one would take me seriously. They would all think I have special privileges because I am your wife!"

"So what? Let them talk. Who cares what they think?"

"It would make me uncomfortable. Besides, I already have a job I enjoy and really nice coworkers. I know you only mean well, Megumi. But I don't think it would be good if I worked for your company."

So Megumi had to give up.

There is another option, though. An option that would solve all his problems and bind you even more to him: Having a baby together.

Megumi decides right then and there at the dinner table that he has to prioritize this option. His long fingers dance over his phone display, typing a quick message to Yuuji, his best friend and coincidentally a dad of two little twin boys.

He smiles when his friend replies almost instantly. Megumi puts his phone away and looks at you,

"The Itadoris will come over for coffee this Saturday."

Saturdays are always one of Megumi's favorite days. Saturdays mean you are at home, where you should be, with no work no coworkers. And this Saturday is even better because you are kneeling on the lush carpet in the living room, cooing at two pink-haired baby boys who kick their chubby legs and smile big, adorable smiles at you.

The thing with Megumi's best friend, Yuuji, is that this guy has so much charm and sunshine vibes that he can draw anyone in. And luckily, his babies are exactly the same. The perfect means to what Megumi hopes to achieve. If the Itadori babies can't convince you to become a mom, he doesn't know what else could!

And Yuuji unknowingly plays his part perfectly, too. He is sitting on the floor, laughing and playing with his twins, talking to you about how happy they make him and how amazing his life has been since he became a stay-at-home dad.

"I really enjoyed my work as a firefighter, but it is nothing compared to the joy I feel at home with the twins! This is the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You laugh and tell him he is doing such a good job, but then you add,

"Aren't you getting bored, though? I mean, as a firefighter, you had a high-energy job, with lots of physical activity and all the emergencies, the adrenalin and stuff. I guess being at home must be boring for you at times?"

Itadori shakes his head and smiles that big, toothy smile.

"Nah, I never get bored! Those two little whirlwinds keep me busy! And I can finally learn so many new recipes! I finally have time to cook and bake! And I work out at home or take long runs with the little ones in the stroller, so I am still just as active as before!"

That night, Megumi hugs you from behind and smiles against your neck as he gently strokes your stomach.

"Yuuji's twins are really cute, aren't they? You seemed to be very smitten with them."

For a moment, he thinks he has you. But then you chuckle softly and caress the back of his hand as you tell him,

"They are so cute. And Yuuji is so proud and so happy. It really makes you think, doesn't it? How would our babies look? What would life with them be like? But it's too soon. I want to work for a while longer, at least. I am so close to getting promoted. If I would take a baby leave now, I could forget that. But we still have lots of time, so it's no problem."

Megumi grits his teeth, counting silently to ten before he replies in a carefully neutral tone,

"Yes, you are right, darling. We have all the time in the world."

Megumi is a bad man, and he hates himself for it, but he can't help wishing all the worst things on your coworker. That guy with the short brown hair and the glasses. Why is it that he is chatting with you every fucking day after work? Megumi can see it all clearly from where he is waiting for you in the car.

What's that guy's problem? Why is he trying to hit on a married woman? Megumi isn't stupid. He can clearly see what those guy's intentions are! The casual touches! The big smiles and loud laughs. The overly nice farewell.

Megumi wants to get out of the car and punch that stupid smile off that idiot's face! But he has to keep cool. He has to act as if everything is fine.

Nothing is fine.

Megumi is seething with anger. His vision goes blurry as fear swallows him. It's just a short text message, but to him, it's the same as standing in the middle of the apocalypse.

"Hey babe, some of my coworkers are going out for drinks after work tonight. I agreed to join them, so please don't wait for me for dinner. I will eat something at the bar. I love you!"

His hands are shaking as he stares at the phone screen. Should he feign a sickness? He is sure you would rush home to him if he did that. But no, that will only make him look weak. You don't need a weak man. You need a strong guy who takes care of you.

There is no choice.

"Alright, darling. Have fun. Call me when you're finished so I can pick you up. I love you too."

He throws the phone onto the leather couch in his office with an angry growl. He already sees it all in his head. The chill atmosphere of the bar. The dim lights, the cocktails. The alcohol will make your mind cloudy. And your flirty coworker will use that to his advantage and steal what belongs to Megumi!

His whole day is ruined. Megumi storms out of his office, informing his assistant that there is a family emergency, snapping at her to get things managed for him when she tells him he has several important meetings today.

As if any of that is of importance! Stupid nonsense! All that matters is you!

You, who belong to Megumi! You, who is too kind and sweet and naive to realize what your coworker is trying to do!

Megumi drives home too fast, even though he doesn't even know what he can do at home. He strolls restlessly from one end of the living room to the next, breathing heavily as his mind is in a whirlwind of negative thoughts.

Evening comes, and Megumi grabs his car keys and his coat, jogs down to his car, and drives downtown. It's as if some invisible force pulls him here. As if he is some onlooker of a catastrophe that cannot look away. He needs to be there. He needs to see it with his own eyes.

He hides in the shadows outside the bar, something he has always been good at. When you are an abandoned, grumpy child who gets dismissed as a troublemaker, you learn to become friends with the shadows.

No one pays close attention to him. He isn't suspicious. He's just a tall, good-looking man in expensive dark clothes waiting for someone.

Megumi's chest feels heavy as he narrows his eyes and watches through the window. Your little group sits at a table in the middle of the bar. Happy faces, drinks get raised, laughter gets shared. Your eyes sparkle with joy. Megumi's heart clenches painfully. You are so beautiful. On the inside and outside. Everything he has ever wanted.

But you are in the cozy light of the bar, in the warm room, smiling and laughing and being loved by everyone. And Megumi is out here in the dark, in the cold of the night, all alone, someone who gets abandoned, who gets replaced. Someone who loneliness clings to like a curse.

Your coworker with the brown hair and the glasses sits next to you. Of course, he does! He leans closer to you, brushing his shoulder against yours, turning to talk to you, and you throw your head back and laugh, clearly enjoying what he said.

Megumi's hands ball into fists in the pockets of his coat. A decision is made. Megumi will not lose you. He will mold the world into one where you stay with him. He will control the circumstances, so you have no choice but to be by his side. He will erase everyone who wants to take you away from him. The first one to go will be your flirty coworker.

It's a thought that should be concerning. An idea that would terrify others. But not Megumi. He hasn't been scared of things like these for a long time. He was six when his father left. He was a little child and fended for himself for half a year before people found out he and his sister lived all alone. Megumi isn't scared of using his fists or his mind to take people down who try to hurt him. Violence doesn't scare him. The only thing that scares him is losing you.

It takes a week of planning and observing before everything is perfect.

Megumi picks you up from work and drives you home like every day. He kisses you tenderly as he lets you get out of the car in front of your apartment, telling you that he has to go back to the Zenin building because he still has to make some changes to an important business contract. He drives to his office and makes sure several people see him before he sneaks out and drives to another part of the city.

He parks his car in a sidestreet and walks the rest of the way. His heart is beating rapidly, but his mind is strangely clear. He is a man on a mission. A righteous mission. A husband who ensures his marriage will stay happy.

The black leather gloves feel soft on his hands as Megumi jogs through the dimly lit park. He spots his rival after ten minutes. Megumi follows him slowly, blue eyes observing their surroundings carefully. He feels excited. The thrill of the hunt is sending adrenaline through his veins.

Megumi feels grim satisfaction when he tackles the man to the ground behind a group of trees. He doesn't feel any remorse when he brings the knife down in several precise movements. He can't bring himself to see anything wrong with his actions. He hates bad people, and this guy clearly is a bad person if he is trying to steal someone else's wife. He deserves to die!

Megumi feels elation when he watches with cold blue eyes as the life seeps out of the man who wanted to steal you.

His heart feels light when he finally is back in his car after leaving the cold body of his rival lying in a bloody puddle. He whistles a soft tune on the drive home, feeling as if a great weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

He goes home to you, takes a quick shower, and then slips into bed behind your warm body, smiling when you snuggle against him, mumbling his name with so much love. He makes slow love to you, rolling on top of you, gentle, sleepy sex that makes you wrap your legs around him and mewl cutely as he moves on top of you, deep, slow thrusts accompanied by tender kisses.

You call Megumi at noon the next day when he is in the middle of a meeting. He excuses himself, taking your call to hear your shrill voice telling him that something terrible happened.

And Megumi smiles while he tells you,

"That's horrible, darling. I am coming to pick you up immediately. Please don't go anywhere without me."

He is a good husband, rushing to your workplace to pick up his distraught wife and take her home.

He wraps you in a warm blanket on the couch and brings you tea. He hugs you, pulls you into his strong arms, and tells you he is there for you, tells you that you are safe with him and that he will always protect you.

And you cling to him, crying, scared, and shaken up, burying your face in his chest, snuggling against his firm muscles.

"It's so... It's so crazy and scary. I mean... I have been sitting across from him in the office for several years! We got along so well! I would even say we were friends! And now he... he is... oh god, Megumi! He just went on a run in the park, and someone robbed him and stabbed him! It's like you aren't safe anywhere anymore!"

You hiccup, pressing your face against Megumi's firm chest, your fingers clutching his shirt tightly. He holds you and cuddles you while feeling elated that you need him so bad.

You call in sick for work for three days in a row, and Megumi thinks he has you. You are shaken up, scared by the fact that someone you know got murdered. A terrifying reminder that life outside isn't safe. You could get attacked anywhere at any time.

Megumi pets your hair and strokes your back, telling you to lock the door and snuggle under the blanket with the dogs.

"They will protect you while I'm at work, my love. You are safe here. Just don't leave the apartment. I will be back in a few hours and look after you."

He thinks he did it. He thinks you finally see that it's best to always stay in here. He thinks he can finally rest assured, knowing his sweet wife will only see him and no one else.

But the relief is short-lived.

You get out of bed on the fourth day, smiling bravely and telling Megumi that you feel better again.

"I can't hide away in here forever, Megumi. I have to get back to work."

He punches the wall when you close the bathroom door behind you, cursing under his breath. Why are you doing this to him? Why can't you just let Megumi take care of everything? Why must you be so adamant about standing on your own feet?

Fear is crashing over him again with thick black waves, pulling him under and drowning him in a sea of desperation.

Everything was fine for a few days! You were here, safe and sound, and letting Megumi dote on you! You were only his alone for a few days, and it had felt like the world was finally at peace, that Megumi was finally at peace! He cannot lose this feeling again!

Megumi is an intelligent man, and that is his curse! He isn't one of those naive fools like Itadori, who is, of course, a kind and amazing person, but he is too trusting, always smiling his stupid sunshine smile and not thinking much when his wife leaves the house to go to work all day and meet her friends and coworkers.

Megumi cannot be like that! He knows things! He knows firsthand how unreliable people are! People change their minds all the time. Even those closest to you might leave from one day to the next.

Love doesn't last. Even couples who have been together for decades suddenly cheat on each other and get divorced.

It all comes down to one thing: You cannot trust anyone. Even the most loyal soul might get weak when faced with too much temptation. And why would you stay with someone as flawed as Megumi if you ever get presented with the choice to be with someone who is perfect?

It's not that Megumi doubts your love for him in the here and now. He knows you love him. He frequently reads the texts you send your remaining friends where you swoon about him. He sees how your face lights up with affection when he does all those little acts of service for you. He sees you cry and sob and whine for him almost every night when he makes sure to fuck you so good that he spoils you for any other man.

Yes, you love him. But this is now. What will be in a year? In five? In ten?

Megumi simply cannot bring himself to be as naive as to believe in eternal love and loyalty. His father made sure to show him otherwise. People like Itadori are so clueless, so naive. But not Megumi. He is always prepared to get left behind again.

It's natural. Feelings fade with time, and then it all depends on other circumstances.

Love won't be enough.

He has to make sure you stay with him, not just because you love him because that love can vanish. He has to make sure you are dependent on him. You have to know you cannot just walk away. He needs to make sure you are financially dependent on him. And he has to make sure you don't have anyone else but him. If you have nowhere else to go, you must stay with him.

He slowly unclenches his fists, forcing himself to breathe calmly. He can do this. There must be a way! He already succeeded in isolating you from that friend group he didn't approve of. Now, if you only weren't so stubborn when it comes to work!

Megumi sighs and runs a hand through his unruly black hair. His gaze lands on a patch of color sticking out from under the carpet before the couch. He frowns and walks over, leaning down to inspect it. It's a red pacifier. Yuuji must have dropped it.

Megumi picks it up and holds it between two elegant fingers, turning it thoughtfully from one side to the next.

Maybe there is one more thing he can do.

It's a good thing he is so skilled with his fingers. It's difficult to manipulate the packaging of your birth control pills, but Megumi took the day off to execute his plan meticulously. He carefully pulls the aluminum foil off the blister packaging, flushes the contraceptives down the toilet, and then replaces them with some mild painkillers that look identical.

It takes some effort to fix the foil again, but Megumi has steady hands, and he is driven by desperation and a firm conviction.

By the end of the day, he holds the manipulated packaging proudly in his hands.

He feels a tiny wave of guilt when he puts it back into your nightstand. But it vanishes again when he reminds himself that he is doing this out of love. He just wants to make sure the two of you stay together. And he knows that even if you are shocked at first, you will learn to embrace the thought of becoming a mother.

You were so happy when you saw Yuuji's twins! You will be even more delighted when it's your and Megumi's baby that you hold in your arms! He is just giving you what you want anyway. A happy family. Megumi and you, your baby, and two dogs! The perfect family everybody wishes for! You will learn to love your new life!

Megumi waits. Of course, he keeps track of your monthly cycle. It's something he has always done. As a good caring husband, he always wanted to know at which times of the month the hormones would make you act a certain way, make you sad, or make you horny. But now it's like a countdown to Christmas or his birthday.

Megumi's eyes follow you all day, excitement tingling in his veins when he kisses you before you leave for work. You have started to ovulate. Tonight, he will breed you.

You both don't get a lot of sleep that night. Megumi pulls you onto his lap after dinner, kissing you deeply, licking into your mouth with deep, demanding kisses while his graceful hands slip under your skirt to rub your clit through your panties, driving you wild on his lap, making you mewl into his mouth and grind needily against him, so wet that you stain his pants.

He smiles when he steers you to the bedroom, his cock throbbing eagerly against his pants. Tonight, he will make you a mommy.

You look so beautiful beneath him, your face sweaty and damp from tears of bliss running down your cheeks, your eyes closed in pleasure, your mouth hanging open in loud moans and needy mewls.

Your legs rest on Megumi's shoulders, your body writhes under him, meeting every deep thrust of his needily. He can feel your cunt twitch around him, can feel how wet you are for him, how it stains the bed sheets under you. He can smell how fertile you are, that unmistakenly sweet, enticing smell your pussy has when you are ovulating. It drives him wild tonight. It makes him fuck you hard and deep, rubbing your clit firmly to make you cum on his cock over and over again, making your orgasming pussy milk him dry.

You are so good for him, such a sweet wife, such a good girl, taking all his seed so deeply into you. And Megumi makes sure to keep it in there. He lies on top of you, pressing you into the sheets, moaning softly, his heart overflowing with love when his lips find yours in a long, tender kiss while your pussy pulses around his spent cock.

He stays inside you until his cock softens and slips out of you, leaving a hot sticky trail of his seed and your cream on your inner thighs. Megumi watches you with heavy-lidded dark blue eyes as he pushes his cum back into you, fingering you thoroughly with his ring finger and middle finger, watching in fascination as your combined juices drip down his long fingers and onto the wedding ring he is wearing.

He smiles and coos at you, full of love and praise, telling you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you, groaning when he feels your pussy tightening around his fingers.

"Yes, princess, you are such a good girl for me. Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Fuck, you're so beautiful!"

He smiles as he watches you come undone for him, letting him fuck all his warm seed back into you, stuffing you with it, making sure you keep it all inside.

For good measure, he takes you again an hour later, fucking you deep and thoroughly, rolling his hips against you, making his full balls slap loudly against you, giving you all his fertile seed, smiling when he imagines you holding a blue-eyed black-haired baby on your arm, waiting for Megumi when he comes home after work.

He comes so hard that he almost blacks out, and his loud feral moan is even drowning out your needy mewls.

Megumi watches you wolfishly. He knows your period should have started three days ago. But every time he checks your stack of tampons and pads, he can see that you haven't used any yet.

He feels a glorious satisfaction as he watches you grow more nervous every day. You constantly leave for the bathroom, probably to check whether your period has finally started, only to return with a feverish look in your eyes.

He waits patiently for several days more so as not to arouse any suspicion. Then he casually asks after kissing you goodbye when leaving for work,

"Oh babe, I'm going to grab some things at the drugstore today after work. Do you need anything? I think you are pretty close to that time of the month, aren't you? Do you need tampons or pads?"

He has to bite his lip not to smile when he sees the emotions flickering over your face. Worry, shame, nervousness. Your lips start to tremble, and finally, you spit it all out,

"I... Oh, Megumi! It should have started six days ago! I am so worried! Like I know it can't be. I... I can't be pregnant... I am on the pill! But... but it's so strange! I have never been late!"

He feigns understanding, smiling gently at you and pulling you against his chest, hugging you comfortingly to his tall, lean-muscled body.

"Aww, please don't worry, darling. It will be fine. Maybe you forgot to take a pill? It can happen so fast. Life is hectic."

He can see your eyes widen. It was a good thing to say. You can be pretty chaotic and forgetful. It's easy to cast doubt and make you believe it was your mistake. He can feel you stiffen in his arms. And when you lift your head to look at him, guilt is written all over your pretty face,

"Shit... that's a possibility, yeah. I can be such a distracted idiot! I am so stupid!"

"No, please don't blame yourself, babe. Really, it's ok. Look, we already agreed that we want to have kids someday, right? So, what if it happens a bit sooner than planned? I don't mind at all, darling. I love you, and I will always take care of you and our possible kids. Don't worry."

You blink rapidly as tears gather in your eyes, and Megumi cups your cheek and caresses it tenderly,

"Why don't you take the day off, babe? We can buy some pregnancy tests and see what's going on. And no matter what the tests say, everything will be fine, I promise you. You can always count on me, my love. We will get through everything together."

You nod wildly and smile gratefully at him as tears run down your cheeks, and you throw yourself into Megumi's arms again, letting him comfort you.

"O...ok, Megumi. Thank you, baby. I love you too."

You are so cute like this, nervous and scared, needing Megumi so much. He drives you back home with only one hand on the steering wheel. His other hand is clutched tightly between your cold fingers. A small happy smile tugs at the corners of Megumi's lips. He likes this. He likes being needed by you.

Finally, things will be in his favor. He knows it.

You are a nervous wreck the whole remaining day, pacing the living room restlesssly until Megumi gets in your way and makes you bump against his tall, lean-muscled body, and he pulls you in his arms, reassuring you, giving you all the comfort and love you need.

Megumi sets an alarm for six in the morning so you can take the pregnancy test. He is already awake, unable to sleep with how excited he is when the alarm starts blaring, and you jump out of bed at the first sound of it, shaking a bit as you look at him with big eyes,

"It's time... ok, I'll... I'll take the test now."

And Megumi is there for you, of course. He is the best husband you could wish for. Caring, loving, devoted, reliable. Megumi is someone you can count on. He smiles gently at you and takes your hand.

"You mean, we will take the test now. I am here for you, sweetheart. You aren't alone."

He leads you to the bathroom. He reads the instructions to you and hands you a plastic cup. He leans against the sink and smiles as you pee into the cup, refusing to leave your side even for one minute. A husband and wife can share every moment after all. There is no shame.

You smile sheepishly at him as you walk over to him, and Megumi takes the plastic cup out of your trembling hand.

"You're doing great, darling. Let me do the rest."

He prepares the test and pulls you into his strong arms, letting you hide your face in his firm, muscled chest, breathing in the comforting scent of the shirt he slept in while you wait for the test result.

Megumi strokes your back soothingly. His lips brush over your earlobe as he murmurs to you,

"No matter what the test says, I love you."

The sound of the alarm makes you jump. Megumi is the one who takes the test off the sink with steady fingers. He already knows what it will say.

"Pregnant."

His strong arms catch you when you sway lightly on your feet. His lips press gently against your hair, breathing a soft kiss to your forehead. You cannot see it, but the smile on Megumi's face is the happiest he has ever smiled.

You bury your face in his shirt, your voice sounds muffled, full of tears,

"I am so sorry Megumi! If only I had been more careful! I... oh god, what if I fail at being a mom? And now you will have so much more responsibility too, and it's my fault, and I..."

He silences your tearful ramblings by making you lift your head and capture your lips in a deep kiss, licking the salty taste of your tears out of your mouth. His heart feels like bursting, so exhilarated, so happy. It's lovely to see you so weak. So dependent on him. He loves to be needed.

He cups your cheek lovingly when he pulls away from the kiss. Dark blue eyes look deeply into yours, almost as if he is trying to hypnotize you and drill his words into your brain,

"You will be a wonderful mom, and I will gladly take on this new responsibility. I love you, and I love our child. I will always provide for you, darling. I will always be yours, and you will always be mine."

He finally has everything he ever wanted. A diamond ring is sparkling on your finger. Your belly will soon be swollen with his baby, showing everyone his claim on you. You will stay at home from now on, far away from anyone who could possibly steal you away from your husband.

And if you decide to return to work one day, Megumi will just knock you up again. He is obviously quite skilled at fucking a baby into you, and he will do it as often as the circumstances require it.

Yes, Megumi finally has everything he ever wanted.

You.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Forever.

Thank you so much for reading my second story for Halloween 2023!! I am sorry that it got so long, but it was so much fun to write Megumi's descent into madness ;)

I hope you enjoyed Yandere!Megumi!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!

Once again, thank you so much to Loni for hosting this super fun Halloween Collab!! I could finally write this story after having it in my drafts for two years!!

[madrone33]

Number 1 Rule of adapting the Odyssey into EPIC is: if it can be more dramatic, it will be more dramatic.

The Greeks decide to throw the infant Trojan prince from the walls because they're scared he'll try to avenge his family? No, Zeus comes down to personally give Odysseus a vision of being killed and says his family WILL die. Kill the baby that reminds you of your son right now, it's the gods will.

Odysseus goes to greet the inhabitants of an island and gets trapped in a cave for two days by the cyclops that's eating his men one by one? Nope, we got BOSS BATTLE 30v1 in the Ithacans' favour until BAM fourteen pancakes are made by Polyphemus' club and oh shit Polites is DEAD-

Athena is just vaugely absent for the whole journey until the end? We got emotionally charged platonic breakups instead, with yelling and insults and "well I'm breaking up with you FIRST!"

Smooth sailing to Ithaca? STOOOORM-

Odysseus' great-great-great-grandfather giving him a speed boost to help him on his way home? Get ready for trickster wind gods, mischievous winions, and a game that was rigged from the start.

Random-ass suspicious and greedy crew mates open the bag? It's Eurylochus, his second in command, his brother-in-law, the man he trusted, Eurylochus WHYYY

Parking in the wrong harbour and getting boulders thrown at the fleet by angry man-eating giants while Odysseus backs away veeery slowly? Nah Poseidon himself pulls up to dunk on them, and Odysseus has to make a last minute getaway using the power of STOOORM to avoid being curbstomped like his fleet.

Odysseus gets some stronger drugs from a god to make him immune to the other drugs of a goddess? Well these drugs actually give him magic powers which he uses to engage in a Pokémon/Yu-Gi-Oh style BOSS BATTLE!

Get some closure with dead loved ones and acquaintances, and be the first interviewer of the fallen heroes of past ages? Nope, we just got TRAUMA and a whole boatload of guilt!

A neat outline of what the rest of the journey will look like, a warning against an island of cows that will slow him down, and the way to appease Poseidon? This Tiresias just says "Y'know there used to be a world where you made it home, BUT I DON'T SEE IT NO MORE. IT'S GONE. IT'S OVER. Also, your palace is fucked."

Sailing past the sirens while getting to be the first mortal to hear their song and live? M U R D E R

Sailing past Scylla to avoid Charybdis and accidentally getting six men eaten because he thought he could totally take Scylla, even though Circe said he couldn't, and then he realised he, in fact, cannot take Scylla? ... Eurylochus, light up six torches.

Eurylochus waits till Odysseus is out hunting and then goes behind his back to mutinously rally the crew and feast on some sacred cattle? Betrayal on both sides, stabby stab, K.O., and then Odysseus helplessly watches them make the greatest mistake of their lives as they ignore his pleas.

Quick clean and easy lightning-strike to the ship, leaving Odysseus to cling to some driftwood and paddle away? Zeus himself appears to the mortals, monologues, makes Odysseus be the one to choose, and then smites the whole ship leaving Odysseus to nearly drown anyway.

Telemachus gets advice from a disguised Athena to yell at the suitors and then sail away to look for news of his missing father? Telemachus gets into a full on beatdown with the suitors and gets FIGHT CLUB TRAINING from Athena!

Athena goes "dad I want my favourite mortal back? Did you forget about him? I think you forgot about him" and Zeus instantly replies "nonsense. How could I have forgotten that funny little mortal? Of course you can have him back my sweet favoured child <3" and then Athena skips off to Ithaca? "Father please-" "LIGHTNING BOLT! ANOTHER LIGHTNING BOLT! LIGHTNING BOLT TO THE FACE HOW DARE YOU ASK ME OF SUCH A THING!"

Poseidon does a double take "wait they let him go?? Oh hell nah!" and then sends a giant fuck off storm for Odysseus to swim through until he reaches the Phaeacians? No, Poseidon's just been there on Ithaca's shores, waiting for eight years, now get in the water BITCH- except Odysseus is just like "oh yeah? Fucking FIGHT ME"

You thought the suitors in the Odyssey were bad? Jorge really just said "dial that shit up to ELEVEN"

[kingtomura]

Good Girl

Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off. 

Bad idea. 

Word count: 4k

part two is here!

Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon. 

“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”

“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”

Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins. 

There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way. 

“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating. 

He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse.  “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.” 

This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.

And Tomura was going to be upset.

In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in. 

He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.

You text him.

You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed. 

It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.

There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off. 

And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window. 

A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts. 

You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick. 

Tap. 

There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination. 

Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.

Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work. 

You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here. 

You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”

“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you. 

Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.

“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear. 

“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki. 

He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”

You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”

“He can't do that.”

You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse.  “I don't want it to be this way.”

“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”

Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.

Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up. 

You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment. 

You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist. 

Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn–  the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.

“Get on the bed.” 

And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver. 

“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”

You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again. 

He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away. 

The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room. 

“Be quiet for me, yeah?” 

Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”

The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you. 

This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and  sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over– 

Knock knock.

“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.” 

It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference. 

Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both. 

“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”

At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit. 

If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”

You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet. 

“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.” 

His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave. 

“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.” 

It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”

Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you. 

He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm. 

Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.” 

Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip. 

“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it. 

His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you.  You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.

Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets. 

The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy. 

“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.” 

You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”

“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.” 

There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”

You are so fucked.

[dear-ao3]

well good day to all of you. i have a tale. a classified, certified absolute god tier disaster of a tale.

at the ripe hour of 6:45 am i was awoken from my slumber by a Noise. what sort of noise? you might be asking.

the sort of noise that usually accompanies my father getting up at the ass crack of dawn and trying not to turn on the tap loudly so that he doesnt wake us up.

for one blissful moment i thought that i was at home, in my bed, and all was right with the world.

and then i remembered that i live approximately four hours away from my parents and all is not right with the world.

so i did what any person would do. waited for the noise to go away.

but it did not.

so i investigated. in all my bleary eyed glory.

and found that my bathroom ceiling light was pissing.

not just a little either.

a severe, unauthorized amount of water was streaming out of my bathroom light fixture.

so after banging on katyas door and finding a bucket and throwing on a sweatshirt i dragged my tired ass down to the front desk and reported the tea as it were.

now one thing you need to know about our building is that it is old. the second thing you need to know about our building is that the maitenance guys (we call them the boys) are absolutely incredible, like tumblr funny guy posts but irl, however they take for fucking ever to respond to any situation.

this time though, nothing was in clear danger of exploding or lighting on fire. so we made some breakfast. drank some coffee. watched the bucket that we had put in the bathroom fill up with water. and we waited.

and waited.

and waited some more.

then i noticed that if you stepped on some of our kitchen floor tiles they started squelching.

so back downstairs i went and explained the tea as it were once again.

and let it be known, that i worked for two very solid and very miserable years as a resident assistant in college. i know all about the woes of people complaining to you to fix things that you cannot fix and you cannot tell them when it will be fixed because the person who needs to do the fixing is otherwise indisposed. so my general attitude towards this whole situation was "hey man you can't make this better for me and im really not pressed about it as long as someone eventually comes and sorts out my pissing ceiling." which is a great attitude to have in this general situation. and especially so because it was about to get even more strange.

at approximately 9:30am our apartment was graced by the presence of one of the boys. the maintenance man. we will call him james.

we have encountered james before. he delt with our fuse box nearly exploding. that situation was not nearly as chill as this one was.

hes also incredible.

so he comes in and he goes "hey how's it going" and i say "well you know things are just leaking!"

he proceeds to tell us that the fridge in the apartment above us had a connection pipe that froze and exploded some how and that managed to leak all into our apartment. not nearly what i was expecting but hey! at least they know what's going on!

we tell him about the squelching tiles and he says that he will bring us a dehumidifier after he turns off the water and deals with the mess of the fridge above us. we say ok great! this is wonderful!

and he goes to leave the apartment. out of habit i had locked the door when he entered. he goes "aw man did you lock me in?"

and i say

"oh sorry!"

and he pauses.

and he looks at our door in disbelief. perhaps even utter horror.

and this, my lovely audience, is what he was looking at:

surprisingly. he was not staring at the entertainment for man and horse plaque that katya and i found while thrifting. nay. he was staring at the unfortunate combination of the printed photo of lando norris and max verstappens face.

now why are lando norris and ax verstappen on the back of my door? you might be asking. you might even be asking who they are.

and if youve been following the lore of this blog, you might recognize them as formula 1 drivers. lando norris of course being a mclaren driver and max verstappen being the reigning world champion of team red bull.

and how did they wind up on my door? well at christmas katya thought it would be funny to put a picture of lando norris on top of our christmas tree and so we got one printed at cvs but when you get wallet sized photos printed they print you four of them so we ended up with four of the same photo of lando. one went on the tree, one went to my sister, one is in our bathroom and now one is on the back of our door.

as for max. well. katyas partner drinks red bull and he was on the red bull box so we cut him out and stuck him there. neither of us are particularly big max fans, it was just funny.

but anyway. i digress.

james is standing there staring at this array of perplexing stuff and goes.

"really? him??"

and i go

"yeah..." not knowing what else to say.

and james turns. and he looks at us. and he goes. and i shit you the absolute fuck not.

"now what's wrong with lewis hamilton???"

(sir lewis hamilton being the mercedes f1 driver, 7 time world champion and absolute icon)

and katya and i go

"oh no no! we love lewis hamilton! we just respect him too much to put him on the door!"

which is true

and james goes "now what did you think of him going to ferrari?"

and i say "i thought it was an interesting choice"

and katya says "i was surprised."

and james says "you and me both" and then he shuts the door behind him.

katya and i look at eachother. and we both fall to the floor in fits of laughter.

let it be known that james has come face to face with a giant tapestry of mr worldwide mr 305 pitbull himself that is in our bathroom, on several occasions, and yet, he chooses to comment on our choice of formula 1 driver that is taped to the back of our door.

im still in a state of disbelief. my ceiling is still pissing. my floor is still squelching. and my maintenance man felt the need to call our my choice of formula 1 driver at 9:30 on a saturday morning.

[trillscienceofficer]

from Sci-Fi Universe magazine, October 1996

COLOR TELEVISION: DEEP SPACE NINE's colorblind perspective deserves credit for not being simply black and white entertainment

by Eric Wallace

Here's a story that may or may not be apocryphal: In 1967, Nichelle Nichols decided to leave Star Trek at the conclusion of the fledging show's first season. Soon after making this decision, Nichols met Dr. Martin Luther King while attending an NAACP fund-raiser. Upon learning of ner decision, Dr. King proclaimed, "You cannot leave. You're opening a door that simply must not be allowed to close." Dr. King went on to explain how Nichols' portrayal of Uhura demonstrated to Americans each week that blacks could live, work and prosper in racially-mixed situations. Consequently, Nichols changed her mind, and the rest is history.

Fast forward to 1996, twenty-eight years after Dr. King's assassination. I'd love to say that Nichols' decision resulted in a multitude of positive black roles on television. But I would be lying. Television reflects the society from which it springs and the fact is that blacks continue to be under-represented in positive, let alone leading, roles on American television.

Thank God for Deep Space Nine. Here is a show that not only features blacks in prominent supporting roles—Jake, Cassidy [sic] Yates, Worf—but has a black male star—Captain Benjamin Sisko. This is cause enough for celebration among black television viewers searching for positive portrayals of their own. But DS9's importance to the black community goes further.

From Good Times' JJ to Martin Lawrence on Martin, it is no secret that "the clown" is the most common image for blacks on television. "The gangsta" and "dope addict" run a close second. Limiting the entire black populace to these three images is not only offensive, but just plain false. This is not to say that black people aren't funny or that we aren't burdened by troublesome individuals. We are. But we're also much more: we are novelists, millionaires and world leaders like Alice Walker, Quincy Jones and Nelson Mandela. So where are these images in American programming? Not in most networks' prime-time line-ups. Perusing the latest copy of TV Guide will confirm this.

Instead of offering up more destructive stereotypes, DS9 boasts strong black characters who behave like genuine, complex, unique individuals. Charismatic, sympathetic and intelligent, these black characters function in ways that mere stereotypes never could by both expanding the sometimes constricted perception of non-black viewers towards racial minorities (thus facilitating communication and a better understanding between racial groups) and helping to inspire the previously-stated traits among their own viewers, thereby providing minority youths, specifically those living in impoverished or hostile environments, with positive role models. In regards to this last element, Sisko, a dynamic leader and caring parent, personifies this ideal.

The relationship between Sisko and his son, Jake, is one of the most satisfying aspects of DS9. Loving, emotionally mature, and far from perfect, their relationship reflects the tragedies and joys which constitute family life.

The pinnacle of the Sisko/Jake relationship (so far) is, without a doubt, The Visitor, a tour de force episode brimming with passion and melancholy. Watching this episode left me proud of the intensity of the love shown between this black father and son, and in tears at the eloquence with which the show handled the poignant and universal themes of disillusionment, obsession, aging, loyalty, love and loss.

Aside from The Visitor, DS9 regularly boasts touching moments of natural interaction between black father and son, all of which make the show a privilege to watch. Just some of these moments include Sisko's overt show of affection for his son, Jake's wisdom in helping his father deal with romantic troubles and the manner in which father and son nave helped each other cope with the death of Sisko's wife.

Some readers may not understand why am I making such a big deal about DS9. After all, science fiction has featured blacks in prominent roles for years. Let me be blunt. There is a word for programs which strategically place one minority character in their ensemble. It's called tokenism. Yes, tokenism fulfills the "visibility" quotient for black characters. However, it fails at the larger task of presenting black characters who possess emotional depth and resonance. Black characters without such traits are cyphers, hollow representations which belittle the true intellectual and emotional capabilities of blacks.

Program creators and viewers who point to token blacks as examples of racial progress inadvertently court cultural hypocrisy. Because token black characters are the norm to which non-black viewers are exposed, they are harmful and destructive road-blocks on the march towards racial equality.

DS9, in contrast, allows its black characters to deal with issues usually reserved for white characters in white-dominated prestige dramas like ER. These issues include: the sacrifice of putting duty before love (For The Cause), the pressures of command (To The Death), the joys of parenthood (Explorers) and even conquering the Earth (Our Man Bashir). White characters that clearly dominate the television landscape have been allowed to cope with these issues for years. For black viewers, seeing themselves portrayed as real flesh-and-blood characters who cope with and ultimately solve life's great challenges is a rarely enjoyed breath of fresh air.

In addition to presenting well-rounded black characters, DS9 presents blacks interacting and succeeding in a multi-racial world. Most black shows, especially black sitcoms, feature an all-black line-up. The characters find success and stature, but only among other blacks. The insidious implication which arises, intentionally or not, is that blacks can succeed among their peers, but not in the real world where it counts, DS9 shatters this antiquated notion by presenting black characters who successfully interact with people of all races, colors and creeds.

Considering its positive impact, it is all the more tragic that DS9, one of the best shows on television, is currently one of the least watched. For those in the 'cultural majority' who have yet to latch on to the DS9 phenomena, I invite you to sample what this well-made, thought-provoking science fiction program has to offer. To black viewers who crave quality television, I urge you to give this remarkable program a try. You might be surprised at what you find: a little piece of yourself.

ERIC WALLACE is a former Army brat and a freelance screenwriter living in Los Angeles. Since his escape from the rural South, he has become a much friendlier person.

[illycanary]

What Aang’s Relationship With His Kids Tells Us About His Relationship With Katara

Bumi: “Oh, boo-hoo. Must've been real hard for you, flying around the world with dad, riding elephant-koi all day.”

Tenzin: “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

Kya: “That's what it's always been about. You think you're some savior who has to carry on dad's legacy.”

Tenzin: “Who else is going to do it?”

Kya: “How about all of us?”

Bumi: “Yeah, we're Aang's kids too.”

The whole problem with this family is, Aang didn’t believe that.

Aang has a long, undeviating track record of never questioning anything he believes about the Air Nomads. Who the hell has a perfect and complete understanding of their society, government, international relations, education system, religion, morality, genetics, and reproduction at age 12? According to Aang? He does. 

The entire lynchpin of Aang’s Book 3 arc is all about how Air Nomads are pacifists and cannot ever under any circumstances harm a life. (We’re going to ignore the body count Aang’s already wracked up over the first two seasons for the sake of preserving his feelings because those were soulless NPCs or something.) 

And yet Aang never questions this…

Monk Gyatso’s bones surrounded by a pile of Fire Nation soldier bones. The picture doesn’t fit Aang’s image of Air Nomad peace and harmony, so he ignores it entirely. It NEVER comes up despite its overwhelming relevance to Aang’s internal conflict and the sorts of advice he seeks from authority figures in the third season (despite Monk Gyatso being the penultimate authority figure in Aang’s life).

Another thing Aang never questions?

There’s no such thing as a non-airbending Air Nomad. They’re just all born that spiritual. And spirituality is the golden key that unlocks bending. (Because Bryke said so.)

Despite Guru Pathik not being a bender. Despite the fact that Zhao, literal spirit murderer, is one. Despite Toph—the most un-spiritual, cynical, feet-on-the-ground-head-nowhere-near-the-clouds member of Aang’s friend group—being the most powerful bender of the lot. Despite Hama being a waterbender equal to none but Katara while completely cut off from her culture and turning her back on everything we believe about water bending’s inherent ties to community, connectedness, and love (Iroh’s words). Despite Azula mastering the god-tier lightning technique BECAUSE she’s practically dead inside and values life least of all things. Despite the fact that Princess Yue has the literal MOON SPIRIT THAT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL WATERBENDING living inside her, and yet she still somehow manages to not be a bender.

Despite the fact that Air Nomads roam all over the world, sewing their wilds oats throughout every nation, yet no airbending toddlers ever crop up in Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom preschools. 

Despite the fact that non-monogamous societies where men have multiple partners father more children and boost the population faster than in societies that favor “attached” relationships, yet the all-airbending Air Nomads still somehow have the smallest population of any ethnic group in the world. 

Despite the fact that Aang’s twin, Ty Lee, is RIGHT. THERE. with her unparalleled aura-seeing, chakra blocking spirituality and her GRAY EYES in a world where color coding is ~totally~ not a thing… *sigh* 

But nope. Air Nomad parentage = airbending child. Always.

So when Katara births a child that is… not an airbender? Not any kind of bender at all, in fact. There’s only one logical conclusion (in Aang’s mind). 

That is not Aang’s child. 

Aang never had a problem traveling with non-airbenders before. He was non-exclusionary by nature. Katara and Toph and Zuko were welcome. Sokka and Suki were welcome. The more, the merrier, in fact. Because Aang loves nothing as much as he loves an adoring audience.

Yet Bumi never travelled with Aang.

Bumi’s as old in this picture as Aang was in the first series. He had an entire decade in which he should have been the most important thing in his parents’ lives. His personality was already more or less formed (not completed, but the groundwork was laid) by the time Tenzin came along. Bumi’s inferiority issues began long before there were any airbending children around to siphon Aang’s attention for training purposes. 

Aang and Katara didn’t have another child until Bumi was on the verge of adolescence because Aang was convinced that Katara cheated. And I’m guessing it took Mr. “Let Your Anger Out, And Then Let It Go” about ten years to forgive his wife and give her the chance to get it right. (Which is at least four years longer than he gave her to forgive her mother’s murderer, in case you forgot.)

Acolyte: “Sorry, I thought you were the servants.”

Bumi: “We’re Tenzin’s brother and sister!”

Acolyte: “Avatar Aang had other children? The world is filled with more airbenders?!”

Kya: “We’re not airbenders.”

Acolyte: “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

The Air Acolytes—whose whole identity, purpose, lifestyle, and religion center around every detail of this man's life and beliefs—didn't know Aang had more than one child.

The best case scenario here is that Aang simply pretended his older children didn’t exist because he was ashamed of them and made Katara keep them shut away at all times. 

And maybe that could have worked… If Aang and Katara had ever had any privacy in their relationship. But they didn’t.

The Air Acolytes have been following Aang and Katara since the comics. They’ve been there at every step of Aang and Katara’s life together. Observing. Fangirling. Emulating. Diefying. Looking for weaknesses in the relationship because Katara was only his “first girlfriend.” 

Yet, somehow, they didn’t know Aang had three children. 

I can’t imagine a way for them not to know unless Aang actively told people, “Those aren’t my kids,” and let Katara bear the shame and stigma of having the world believe she was unfaithful. 

All because Aang couldn't entertain the idea that he was wrong about some facet of a society he never understood clearly.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

ATSV Fun Fact!! - Mumbattan Cultural Details

Gayatri & Inspector Singh follow the Sikh Religion

Have you ever heard of Punjabi Sikhs?

If you don't know - Sikhism is a religion that originates in northern India, specifically Punjab.

The turban Gayatri's father wears - along with his last name 'Singh' implies that her father is most likely a Punjabi Sikh.

I notice this the first time watching ATSV and was like 'wow that's so cool :)'

It only hit me today that 'Oh wait I don't think a lot of people know about this very-specific, rarely-mentioned religion maybe i should say something,'

And because I LOVE yelling about world culture, LET'S GO!!!

[a SHORT essay where I explain the basics of Sikhism, a religion built on equality and justice. And details in The Singhs design, and exactly why Sikh Representation matters]

So What's Sikhism about?

Often mistaken for Muslims - Sikhs are actually a non-Abrahamic religion, with 20 million followers worldwide.

But even with so many visible practicing members, most people know very very little about this beautiful religion!

Sikhs believe in equality and unity - and defending the oppressed. Their book of faith, The Guru Granth Sahib Ji, is called 'Guru' for a reason - Sikhs see the book as not just a code of conduct, but as a living, breathing teacher for every practicioner;

From Wikipedia on Guru Granth Sahib: Sikhs since then [1708] have accepted the Guru Granth Sahib, the sacred scripture, as their eternal-living guru, as the embodiment of the ten Sikh Gurus, the highest religious and spiritual guide for Sikhs. It plays a central role in guiding the Sikh's way of life.

The Guru Granth Sahib is the spiritual leader of Sikhism, and it's treated as such.

That's why in Gurdwaras - their place of worship - it's treated as such, being clothed and held in ornate structure, constantly fanned throughout it's readings (the fan you can see in the left picture).

They believe that by following the Guru Granth Sahib Ji, they can cultivate compassion, peace, and harmony in their communities, while diminishing 'Mara' - concepts like hatred or violence.

Sikhs believe that every Sikh should revere themselves as champions of unity. And because of this many Sikhs have the same last name -

Kaur for women (Meaning Princess) and Singh for men (Meaning Lion).

Having the same last name also does away with the Indian caste system, making it another point of equality.

In ATSV Gayatri last name is Singh. However from my understanding, her name would most likely be Gayatri Kaur in reality.

I think they kept her last name as Singh as a deliberate choice to keep her initials as GS, like Gwen Stacy.

So is Gayatri Sikh?

Maybe - most likely.

But we can't be sure. Mainly because of her hair.

Gayatri has a short bob haircut, and while that might not seem like it matters, it does!

In Sikhism there are the '5K's - different aspects Sikhs wear to show their faith.

Notice the first one?

'Kesh' is the practice of leaving ones hair completely uncut. That's why you may see a lot of Sikh men with long, long beards!

And hence, the large turbans.

It's done as respect for God's creation - leaving it unaltered.

[Fun Fact! - Rastafarians, a Jamaican religion, also don't cut their hair for this reason. Think Bob Marley. Rastas call God - Jah]

So, Gayatri having short hair means she doesn't keep Kesh.

However, Sikh is a super accepting and open religion, and it's main focus is on acceptance of difference, not conformity - so she could entirely follow the faith without doing all of any of the 5Ks.

Also, if you're curious about the steel sword K - Kirpan, yes that's a thing!

Sikhs of all genders are encouraged to carry a small ceremonial blade with them.

Instead it's a symbol of the commitment to fighting for what's right - and defending those who cannot defend themselves.

A Kirpan can ONLY be used to defend the life of yourself or others, which is incredibly rare.

Why is this all so rad, cool, and important?

If you haven't noticed by now, Sikhism is a religion driven by justice. Not just in theory, but in really life as well.

That's why you may see many Sikh police officers and politicians, even here in the West. Most of them wearing the emblem on their turbans.

In fact, Canada has SO MANY Sikh politicians, that in 2019 they elected 18 of them.

For centuries Sikhs have been dedicated to justice, and developing systems of support, whether that be political involvement or feeding those in need.

The biggest Gurdwara (a place of Sikh worship) The Golden Temple feeds over 100,000 people A DAY.

For FREE.

It's a practice called Langar. A communal meal anyone can enjoy. And of course, Langar food is vegetarian.

Making Inspector Singh a Sikh - and showing him saving people and being warm to his daughter on screen is great representation for a community so often overlooked! Despite the fact they are over 20 million practicing Sikhs.

It's a great detail for Indian and Punjabi representation in specific. It accurate shows their beliefs and commitment towards helping others, no matter the cost.

And from what we can tell, this choice came later in development. We know this because ALL of his concept art shows him with a turban, not keeping Kesh.

It seems like someone later on down the line said 'Wait if his name is Singh I think he's Sikh and if he's Sikh then we're gonna have to redesign him and make that obvious oops'.

That, dear audience, is why you always have an Anthropologist in the writing room. Or some amateur anthropologist like me :)

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

I hope you enjoyed reading this, I really enjoyed writing it!! Sikhism is one of my favorite religions and if you have never heard anything from the Guru Granth Sahib I HIGHLY recommend it, it's very optimistic and compassionate. Sikhnet(.)com is also a great resource!

I have no idea if this will pique anyone's interest, but I hardly ever see Sikhs reflected in media and I know many many people may confuse them with Muslim, especially since many women Sikhs keep kesh and cover their hair as well.

But if you ever wanted to know the difference, here it is! If you read this far, thank you SO MUCH. And if you're a Sikh and reading this, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

As usual, here's a photo of Hobie for your travels.

BYE.

[radioactive-earthshine]

Orla's Non-Bat Comic Recs.

Hello folks, in light of the 'all published comics are BAD' wave that has been swept everywhere recently I would like to share a collection of comics that are good actually and are generally isolated (you don't need a spreadsheet to read them).

1.) Impulse (1995)

Why: This is about a neurodiverse coded teenage refugee from the future who cannot live with his blood family in the 20th century due to circumstances that are beyond his control. It is about learning to adapt to a world that doesn't make sense, and learning to love it too. As time goes on Bart learns how to love and he discovers who he is and what is important to him really. All the while some of the most chaotic things happen that you may ever see in a comic (Bart tricks the whole school into getting into a brawl and drives a car off a cliff). Primary themes: Found family (for real), loss, immigration coding, neurodiversity, foster homes, friendship, self discovery, school. Trigger warnings: child abuse, ableism, ptsd, gangs and gun violence (a shocking amount) mental illness. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. Reckless Youth - collects Bart's first appearances from The Flash plus issues #1-#6 in Impulse. Flash/Impulse: Runs in the Family - collects Impulse #1-#12 plus supplementary issues from The Flash. Mercury Falling - Collects the entire Mercury Falling arc.

2.) Jack Kirby's New Gods (1971)

Why: This is the epic that started it all with Darkseid as he scours the earth in search of the Anti-Life Equation. It is about many deep layers of history involving the New Gods, the divide between New Genesis and Apokolips. In desperation to stop an endless war Darkseid and Highfather of New Genesis agree to a pact - to trade sons and in return a long period of truce and a ceasefire would pass between worlds. Highfather agreed, trading his son for Darkseid's whom he raised with love on New Genesis. Orion, years later, is a god of war and he fights for New Genesis and he fights for Earth, undogged he persists in vanquishing Darkseid's evil wherever it dwells. But Orion has a secret, and deep shame, for he experiences anger and wrath like no other on New Genesis but there is deep compassion and love that tempers it. As Orion fights for Earth he uncovers many secrets about himself, and at his side is his 'friend' Lightray who knows the darkness in him but never turns away. Primary themes: war, anger, ptsd, secrets, space opera, family, anti-war, malice, self discovery Trigger warnings: ptsd, this was written in the 70s but was pretty liberal for its time, still has some awkward moments that are slightly sexist and racist (mostly with names of black characters Vykin the Black and Black Racer which some people are uncomfortable with). Available in Trade Paperback: Complete. 1 book. Jack Kirby's New Gods - Collects all issues of Jack's 1971 series plus Even Gods Must Die and The Hunger Dogs. NOTE: Jack Kirby's entire Fourth World epic with Mr. Miracle and The Forever People is also highly recommended and is part of the New Gods tale. All 3 series has been complied into one massive trade called Jack Kirby's Fourth World, and all are available individually as well. Either way you might be able to find these at your library, or on Hooplah.

3.) Orion by Walter Simonson

Why: Decades after Jack Kirby wrote his final chapter for New Gods Orion finally gets his solo where he faces his father on Apokolips and steps up as its ruler. Now the leader of Apokolips Orion begins the arduous task of cleansing it of its malice and cruelty, a feat that is not easy and even more so when he does it without aid. With sinister deception at every turn Orion struggles and finds himself being tempted to use the very force that he was sworn to protect everyone from; the very anti-life equation itself. Primary themes; deceit, temptation, rebirth, life and death, redemption, mercy, compassion, love, forgiveness. Trigger warnings: torture, sexual assault implications. Available in Trade Paperback - Complete. 2 books.

4.) Barda by Ngozi Ukazu (NEW!!)

Why: This is a graphic novel and is a retelling of Barda as she comes to understand love and what she really wants from her life all while navigating the cruelty of Apokolips. Primary themes: love, cruelty, malice, torture, imprisonment, hope Trigger Warnings: torture, execution. Single complete graphic novel.

5.) Superman: The Harvests of Youth by Sina Grace

Why: This is a heartbreaking coming of age story about Clark Kent as a teenager in Smallville as he finds his place among his friends, family and himself as an alien during a time of death and hatred. It is a young Superman story that is incredibly relevant today in an age of internet toxicity and leaves you feeling hopeful. This blends some elements from Smallville (the show) but tweaks them to make this its own unique bubble world that feels believable and fresh. Primary Themes: toxic masculinity, incels, bullying, suicide, capitalism, teenage coming of age, teenage romance, high school Single complete graphic novel

6.) Superman Smashes The Klan by Gene Luen Yang

Why: In the 1940s the Superman Radio Show released the story "Clan of the Fiery Cross" that told a terrifying story about the KKK targeting a Chinese-American family that moved from Chinatown into Metropolis white-dominated suburbs following WWII. This is a graphic novel that is based on the same story. Primary Themes: racism, identity issues, internalized racism, police brutality. Single complete graphic novel, and also has 3 separate novels.

7.) Bad Dream: A Dreamer Story by Nicole Maines (New!!)

Why: This is Nia Nal's solo and origin story that has been confirmed to take place in the main verse for the current comics. Nia was born and raised in a small heavily isolated Sanctuary where aliens live safely. Even among dozens of alien species Nia is still seen as different as she is the only person who is trans. To complicate everything even more, Nia inherits her people's precognitive powers when her sister Maeve was raised her entire life to accept the powers into her. Terrified of her new powers and destroying her family by revealing them she inherited them instead of her sister, she flees from her hometown to Metropolis where she for the first time in her life meets other queer people. But there is a threat to her family on the horizon, and in order to protect them she must go back and face her fears. Primary Themes: transphobia, self discovery, xenophobia, acceptance, fearfulness, family, secrets, deceit. Trigger Warnings: see above, also internalized queerphobia. Single Complete Graphic Novel

8.) Static: Season One

Why: This is a modern retelling of Milestone Comic's Static as bullied nerd Virgil Hawkins comes into his powers at a protest when police discharge an experimental tear gas. The gas leaves many of his classmates dead, but some like him gain amazing powers - unfortunately some other people, like his bullies, also gain powers. Caught between law enforcement, capitalism, and the complexities of being a new teenage superhero Virgil works to uplift his community and stay strong within his nerdy friend group. This series is heavily based on the Static Shock TV show so fans of that show will be delighted with familiar faces, and names. And yes, Richie Foley is gay. Primary Themes: racism, police brutality, bullying, anger, frustration, dehumanization. Trigger Warnings: See above Available in Trade Paperback - Complete in Static: Season One which collects all six issues. Note: We also have its sequel Static: Shadows of Dakota out as well.

9.) Superman: American Alien

Why: This is a collection of short stories about Clark at varying stages of his life that range from funny to incredibly heartfelt. Primary Themes: finding ones self, self discovery, compassion Trigger warnings: I cannot think of one Available in Trade Paperback - Complete as Superman: American Alien which collects all 7 stories.

10.) Legion of Super-Heroes: Post-Zero Hour Reboot

Why: In the 30th century R.J. Brande Industries creates the Star Gate System, finally connecting the galaxy closer than it ever had before. Travel that once took months or years to complete now could only take hours and with it came the United Planets with Earth as its home headquarters. In an effort to promote the United Planets and unify the galaxy, the Legion of Super-Heroes was formed by Brande as a peacekeeping unit and an inspiration to cooperation. Sadly, it was co-opted by political parties and turned into a draft for talented teenagers to serve, or risk their planet's enrollment in the U.P. Over the course of over 200 issues teenage super heroes are given unfathomable responsibility and power while unifying to protect their galaxy and friendships while combating xenophobia and political corruption. This series is everything people wanted TTv3 to be but never got. Primary Themes: Dehumanization, loss of autonomy, death, life, space, technology, capitalism, political corruption, manipulation, deceit, hope, romance, found family Trigger Warnings: See above plus ableism and teenage pregnancy. Available in Trade Paperback: Partially. We have 2 volumes called Legionnaires which collect approximately 20 issues, plus extra content, of this run. We also have various other trade collections such as Legion Lost in its entirety.

11.) Ascender and Descender by Jeff Lemire and Dustin Nguyen

Why: Tired of superheroes? These are two separate series that follow the same story about a young companion robot named Tim who was assigned to be his human brother's best friend and companion. Unfortunately, during a mining accident his entire colony had to flee and leave him behind as they attempted to escape toxic gas. 10 years have gone by since then, and a lot has changed in the world since he was shut down. Mostly being 95% of all robots have been destroyed and are targeted for destruction after a mysterious robotic alien force attacked all sentient worlds and obliterated the populations down to catastrophic levels. All Tim wants to do is find his brother Andy, but what has become of Andy in 10 years, and what will happen to him in 10 more years after they reunite? This story takes place over 20 years as Tim and Andy both grow and change, as they face the challenges before them and unravel the mystery of the Artificial Intelligence that swore to destroy all organic life. Oh, and magic is also involved too. Primary themes: hatred, violence, abuse, xenophobia, forgiveness, found family, brothers, dehumanization, life, death, magic, balance, manipulation, deceit, mysteries, will probably remind you of Mass Effect. Trigger Warnings: see above Available in Trade Paperback: the entire series is available across multiple books.

That's all I have for now folks, I'm tired of writing.

[biwitchenergyz]

A House of Blood and Fire

Chapter One: The Heirs of the Dragon

<-Teaser Next Chapter->

In the future, many years from now, when you await the gods of old Valyria or even the Stranger (hopefully on your deathbed), you may look back on the choices you have made and wonder where you went wrong. Perhaps your death will be less peaceful, perhaps it will be bloody, but you hope that whatever gods watched over you were not the merciless ones Queen Alicent Hightower often wept too.

The world is silent, your room is quiet, and you know the sun will shine soon. Not that the sun has ever done anything good for you. Most people fear the dark but forget all the snakes who love to bask in the sun's light. You often find yourself surrounded by those very snakes, but now, sitting alone in your chambers on Dragonstone, you wonder if the sun purposefully evades the gloomy island. Your lady's smooth voice accompanies the squeak of your door opening.

"Darling girl, I hoped we could talk before our departure." Princess Rhaenyra hardly asked for company; she was surrounded by people at all times, whether that be her children, her lovers, or her court. When she wanted to speak with someone, it was an honor that few could refuse. She moves to sit beside you. Her nightgown is sheer and delicate, with its lacey decorations pooling at her feet as she lifts them onto your bed.

"I was worried that this trip may take a toll on you," Rhaenyra whispers when she is finally sitting at your side, "If you want to stay back, I am sure my father would understand." The silence speaks for itself when Rhaenyra finally hears the irony of her words.

When has Viserys ever been understanding of you? Though the two of you were cousins, his age made him dismissive and ignorant of your plight as a young woman, while his gender gave him a sense of superiority that oozed from his every word. Rhaenyra was lucky to be his eldest daughter because she alone was immune to his cruelty.

"Viserys has been asking me to return, and now he demands it. Even you cannot protect me from that." The older woman's eyes soften at your cynical words. Your arrival at court was, unfortunately, amidst a troubling time for House Targaryen. The Princess and the Queen were constantly at odds, and it seemed that their children were following in their footsteps. With the court jester banished and the king's mood souring, you made for a perfect scapegoat. Had your mother, Saera, been living, she would never have allowed your humiliation. But she was gone, and her reputation fell like an anchor on your head.

"For the past four years, I have found any excuse to keep us on Dragonstone. First, it was my pregnancies, then Daemon’s injury, and Luke’s sickness. I am sorry that my father was not kind to you. However, he has grown ill, and his mind has been sullied with milk of the poppy. All my father wants is to see his family again. We have missed four of his birthdays, and I fear there may not be another. We will leave at dawn." Rhaenyra left no room for argument, so you let the discussion drop. Your mind returns to the reason you must sail for the Red Keep.

"The boat ride will take longer than Dragonback. I may miss dinner entirely." You warn Rhaenyra as she prepares to leave your bed chamber. She turns then, the realms delight, with the brightest smile you had ever seen as she laughed, "There is more than enough room for you on Syrax." Then she left as the sun seeped in through your windows.

• • • • • • •

In the end, you refuse to ride on Dragonback. You have declined it during all the years you have lived in Westeros. The boat ride is hardly uncomfortable, but as you watch Syrax's daisy-colored form fly over you, you wonder about the freedom you miss. Occasionally, the Velaryon boys will fly their dragons down closer toward the water, and your boat shakes at the power of their dragons' flapping wings. Even young dragons have that power. During the journey, Rhaenyra and her family split from you as they head towards King's Landing, and for a while, you are left with only yourself and the Princesses' other ladies as company. "Sit down, Princess. Join us in crafting our favors. You will become seasick if you stand so much." Elinda Massey lectures as you stand staring out the window of the old ship.

Elinda, with her dark hair and darker eyes, never fails to worry. She awoke in the morning with worries, and every night; she went to sleep worrying about how much Rhaenyra and her children ate at dinner and whether or not they would be starving. Her worries for the royal family also extend to you; even the old king's exiled granddaughter was worth her many troubles. Despite being your age and both of you being the youngest of Rhaenyra’s ladies, Elinda had a pious nature that led to her acting as a mother for the other girls, yourself included.

"Lady Massey, I can assure you I will be fine standing. The ship should dock soon anyway." Elinda frowned at your response, but she knew better than to argue with you when your mind was made.

You hurry to the deck of the ship, hoping to see King's Landing in all its glory, when your eye is caught by the enormous shadow that hovers above your boat. A dragon, as dark as an emerald and as giant as the Dragonpit, flies above you with a slow flap of its wings. Vhagar, you think you knew that dragon by heart and the old beast had not changed in the years since you left. Her rider may not be on her back, but you feel like he is for a second, his eyes piercing you from a place hidden from your view. Myranda Strong, with her twin Alyssa, approaches you from behind.

"Lady Massey is talking to the captain. The princess will send us a carriage, but we will still need someone to bring our luggage." Myranda tells you as her eyes also lift to watch Vhagar. Alyssa ignores the dragon, focused on the men preparing to moor the ship.

True to her word, Rhaenyra has sent a carriage for the four of you. It is grander than most carriages but still simple enough in its design to reflect your status as ladies-in-waiting. Inside the carriage, you bump into Alyssa at every dip in the road, but she merely smiles. "The men of the Red Keep will be a great exchange for those in DragonStone. New faces are just the change I need." She laughs with you as you agree to her lust-filled words. "It is the eldest prince that I am most excited to see. The rumors say that were he not a prince; he would certainly be the lover of a Lysinian mistress, or worse, a madame." You go silent at her words, but Elinda quiets the other girl.

"I can assure you we will not be anywhere near the drunkard prince." Her words are brusque, and they silence Alyssa for the rest of the ride. The silence is deafening until the other strong girl finds her voice. "Where is Saagael, my princess?" Myranda asks you even though her dark eyes are locked on her sister. You cannot stop your smile at the mention of your beloved pet. "He will be brought with our luggage. I had to cage him for the journey so the Hand would not know his presence. Saagael is not supposed to be here." You whisper the words with delight as you discuss how you have snuck your cat into King's Landing. Your company finds humor in this, but the rest of the ride is silent until the carriage doors open, and Rhaenyra takes your hand to help you step safely onto the dirt.

"My Princess! You did not need to come get us." Lady Massey exclaims in delight as Rhaenyra helps her down as well. "I thought that at least the four of you should receive a warm welcome. It seems that courtesy is not felt amongst the court." Rhaenyra sneers before she links your arms and leads you through the halls of the red keep. In the light of the setting sun, the halls look more burgundy than the bright red they are known for. Rhaenyra is silent as you both walk arm-in-arm through the bustling castle.

Servants, nobles, and knights alike stop to stare at the Heir and the formerly exiled princess. It has been many years since the Realm's Delight has been home. They watch her with curious glances, trying to dissect this new woman who walks amongst them. Has the Realm's delight turned cruel, or does she remain the sweet girl beloved by all? You can see the hesitance in their eyes as they bow to her passing figure. Rhaenyra, for the most part, ignores all the attention as she begins to tell you what has transpired today.

"A meager servant was sent to greet us. Our first homecoming in five years and we are treated like mere ambassadors. However, I believe that even ambassadors are treated better. I expected to see my father upon my return, but the king is not currently receiving company. Otto Hightower has practically barred the doors to my father's chambers. " The princess can't help but ramble. It is something she often does in your company for whatever reason. You think it is because, despite her estrangement from her siblings, she craves a relationship of equals rather than one of husband and wife or mother and child. She has always been alone in ways her sons and husband never have. The thought tugs at your heartstrings, and your grip on her arm tightens. "I am sure he will be at the tourney. It is in his name, is it not?" You try to ease her stress, but when it is time for you to go to your chambers, Rhaenyra keeps her hold on you.

"Will you stay with me? Your support would make this whole thing feel easier." Silence fills the halls outside of your chamber. Her Majesty, Queen Alicent, chose the room assigned to you. It is within a forgotten tower just behind the Royal sept, the only chamber completely secluded. Unlike the towers that occupy the hand and the royal guard, which all contain more than one room, your tower has only one other room relatively distant from your chambers. The royal library is at the end of the hall and one must pass your rooms to get there. Thus, for the most part, your halls are silent. Rhaenyra uses this silence to talk freely, so you do the same.

"My Princess, the children of Her Majesty will also be in attendance. I hardly think I will be any help when I am already so anxious to see them. I haven't been here since Helaena disappeared." You pick at the skin around your nails, a habit inherited from your mother, Saera. Rhaenyra watches you look away from her gaze while shuffling uncomfortably back and forth. Aegon and Aemond Targaryen were your friends once, more Aegon than Aemond. But the night Helaena vanished, many incidents occurred that forced you to flee for DragonStone. Not only had Alicent suspected you of helping Helaena escape, but so did her two oldest sons, and when you left, never to return until now, they grew to resent you. That's what you thought, although you never had any clear evidence besides the heated conversation that night four years ago.

"Darling, I want you there, but I will not beg," Rhaenyra stated plainly. Her royal demeanor inspired you to lift your eyes. Her violet eyes gleamed with a reserved strength that she took no measures to conceal. "I will go." You decided.

• • • • • • •

The tourney was to begin in less than an hour, but first, you wanted to make sure your pet was settling into your chambers. Saagael paced back and forth, his body more extensive than a house cat, as dark as a moonless night sky, and his paws hit the floor like an elephant on the march. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.” You try to reason with the cat, but he will hear nothing of it. He turns to leap onto your chair, making it seem like a doll’s chair with his big body taking over the furniture. His paws knead into the soft fabric, but he does not rip it. You knew the risk of returning him to the red keep would be significant, but you reasoned that he would be safer with you than left alone on Dragonstone. At least here, you could watch him and protect him. The thought of losing your beloved companion was one of the many fears that kept you up at night. Saagael was all you had left of home and your parents; without him, you would be truly lost. Even in moments like this, when his attitude was at its height, you took comfort in his presence.

“Fine. I will bring you a whole salmon from the kitchen! All you have to do is stay here and be good.” You pleaded with the grumpy cat. Saagael’s ears perked up at the mention of his favorite treat. Finally, he left his chair to curl up at your feet. You scratched his neck, making him purr contentedly. With a few more pets, you got up to leave him. As you opened your door, you jumped back in shock at the sight of Alicent Hightower standing outside. Her delicate hand was raised as if she was going to knock upon your door. The both of you seemed startled by the presence of the other, but neither of you spoke for a moment.

Alicent breaks the silence, “You have grown quite a lot in these years.” Her voice is gentle but still royal, showing her hesitance to appear as anything but regal in front of you. “Please do come in, your majesty!” You stumble over yourself to bow appropriately in the older woman's presence. Alicent walks in, taking in the room to find it, the same as when she first had it decorated for you.

Saagael is perched on the bed with no interest in moving, but Alicent strokes his fur, and he suddenly sits up and is very interested in the queen. “Is there a purpose to your visit, my queen?” Slowly, your feet move to the Queen's side while watching her admire your beloved Saagael. “My father hates this cat.” The queen muses instead of answering your question. The room falls to silence again until Alicent finally speaks. “I have been begging Viserys to bring you back home, and finally, you are here. I came to apologize to you, dear girl. When my daughter…left…I placed my blame onto you when you have been nothing but loyal to me and my children since you arrived at the Red Keep. I hope you can forgive me.” She turns to you, and you see the young woman you grew up with, who took you in along with Rhaenyra when you needed guidance.

Her big brown eyes glisten with unshed tears, but over time, you realize that Alicent's eyes are always sad. With a boldness you didn't realize you had, you step forward to grasp the Queen’s hands. “All is forgiven, Your Majesty.” Alicent smiles as she rubs her hand over your own, pausing at the rough skin around your fingernails. It is inflamed from being picked at, and Alicent notices it instantly. Gently, she touches your skin before looking back into your eyes.

“My sons, they have missed you greatly. I know they will be glad to see you. Please forgive them of their standoffish nature.” You nod at her words, knowing you have missed her sons just as much as Helaena. A bell chimes from the royal sept, and its echo fills your quiet room. Alicent responds instantly, dropping your hands and heading to the door before turning and saying, “The king wants his entire family at dinner after the tourney. I hope that you come.” She leaves the room with urgency, and for a fleeting moment, you feel like a twelve-year-old again, spending the winter in the Red Keep playing with Helaena and Aegon while a silent Aemond watches on in Amusement as Alicent gently scolds you and Aegon for roughhousing.

Jace and Luke are the ones who come to escort you to the King’s birthday tourney. You link arms with Jacaerys while Luke fiddles with the ring on his finger. It is a matching one Rhaenyra gave him for his tenth name day, valyrian steel with a single onyx crystal in the middle of the circlet. You all walk in silence, having nothing to say to each other. When you reach the doors that lead into the courtyard, you stop to turn to Luke, who is beginning to look faint. “Luke, you look as though you have seen a ghost. What troubles you?” You rest your hand over his own to stop his fidgeting. Luke smiles at you even though his eyebrows furrow in thought. Jace keeps his hand on your arm but uses his other hand to pat Luke’s back. Then Luke looks up at you with a strange determination on his face. “Are you on our side?” You drop his hands in shock. With a quick glance around, you see that nobody is in the halls besides two guards who stand watch at the doors to the courtyard. You gather the skirts of your dress and bend slightly to come face to face with Luke.

“Little Luke Velaryon, what are you talking about?” The words come out as a whisper, unnoticed by the guards, but Jace and Luke hear them loud and clear, and they do not back down. “Our uncles call us bastards. The whispers of the court say that it is Aegon who should be our grandsire’s heir. Do you stand with us or with them?”

Luke is bolder than Jace. He always has been. Unlike Jacaerys, who strives to be the perfect dignified gentle-lord, Luke is proud like the Velaryons and does not hold his tongue.

“I am my mother's daughter; Saera Targaryen would see no value in such disagreements. I do not wish to fuel a fire that is already roaring. The politics of Westeros are still strange to me, but my position here is not. I have no right to say what should happen to the iron throne, but I assure you that I love you and your mother very much. That is all I can say.” Luke nods, his youthful face looking mature for the first time. He seems as if he will argue, but he holds his tongue because of a lack of response. Jace takes your arm in his again, and as you wait for Rhaenyra and Daemon to join the three of you, Jace talks to you in whispers.

“Even you must feel the division of the court.” He shows no signs of discontent, but Lucereys is still mulling over your response. “Trust that I feel the division like a knife in my back.” Your stare rises to meet his eyes. For a moment, he is silent, but his eyes are loud enough. The conversation ends there as Rhaenyra and Daemon approach to lead the family to their carriages. You watch the doors open but stop before crossing them; Jace pulls you through.

• • • • • • •

[the-ferocious-kittyrose]

Hazbin Hotel Ep1 Rewrite

Okay, let’s get the shit I like first out of the way. Animation? Beautiful. Art style? Iconic. Music? Pops off.

Okay, now the fun part…

First let me just say, I adore biblical lore. So when I see something changed from the og lore, where I think the og was more interesting, I cannot let it go.

(I’m gonna focus on the Charlie storyline in the episode)

1. The Backstory

Let’s start with the first scene, the backstory of Lucifer and Lilith. In the show, they got some of the timeline and motivations wrong. I understand that the story is sugar coated, but hear me out.

“Once upon a time, there was a dazzling kingdom protected by golden gates, known as Heaven. Home to beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and lived in peace and harmony under the rule of God. The most beautiful of the Angels was Lucifer. He was a dreamer, with fantastical ideas for all creation. But he was restricted by God and the elders of Heaven, for they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.

Outraged by this injustice, Lucifer gathered an army of Angels, and declared war on the kingdom of Heaven. The battle raged on for centuries, but in the end, Heaven reigned victorious. As punishment for their betrayal, Lucifer and his army were cast out of Heaven. Banished to a crumbling wasteland, where the light of God could not reach. But Lucifer would not wallow in failure. From the barren landscape he rose a beautiful golden palace, crowned himself king and crafted a plan to share his freedom with God’s newest creation. Humanity.”

(I like to imagine that when Lucifer and his army fell, their wings burned up, leaving scattered feathers everywhere. In order to fly to Eden, Lucifer gathered these burned feathers and turned them into a new pair of wings for himself. They were black, messy, and trailed billowing smoke, but they could fly.)

Now for the Lilith part of the story. The more popular interpretation of her is that she is the first wife of Adam, but there is another version too, one where she is Adam’s second Wife after Eve. I personally prefer the latter because I can’t see anyone sinning or getting cast out of Edan before Eve eats the apple.

“He approached the garden of Edan in disguise, and offered the forbidden fruit of knowledge to the mother of humanity, Eve, who gladly accepted. But with the gift of knowledge and freedom, came a terrible curse. Evil bleed into the earth, and humanity was infected by darkness and sin.

For her disobedience Eve was cast out of Edan, to the dismay of her love, Adam. To appease him, the Angels crafted him a new bride, Lilith. Lilith was beautiful, with a voice so enchanting even Lucifer was mesmerized, but she was strong willed and refused to be subservient to her new husband. She fled from the garden, and rather than chase her, Adam found the tree of knowledge and bit into the forbidden fruit, so he could follow his true love, and be with her once more.

Lilith wandered, lost and alone, until she was found by Lucifer. Enamored by her beauty and iron will, he gave her his heart and made her his queen.”

Then you have the bit about Lucifer becoming depressed while Lilith thrived in Hell. I hate this! I was looking forward to a demonic Mortica and Gomez, not another Stolas and Stella. Plus, I’ve never been a fan of uwu sad misunderstood Lucifer. He is a complex character, but too often he’s over simplified by people who read Paradise Lost in high school and misinterpreted Lucifer as a tragic anti hero who was treated unfairly by the evil Angels. Lucifer can be tragic, even sympathetic. He can be fun and a caring father. But don’t forget that he is king of Hell. He is the prince of pride. He has an ego the size of east Texas and waged war against God himself.

And let’s not forget that in the show he is the head honcho over a strict cast system that encourages violence, allows the worst of the worst to take power, and leaves the hellborn races at the bottom at a severe disadvantage.

In this rewrite, Lucifer and Lilith essentially switch places, except Lilith isn’t a pathetic push over, she’s an incredibly famous rockstar, who’s always busy and not around often, but still has a bigger role in her daughter’s life than her husband, who’s been mia doing king shit.

And the last thing we hear about in the intro monologue is that the exterminations happens to prevent Hell from rising against them, which while that may be the case, don’t have Charlie say it!!! That realization for her would make the entire hotel superfluous! Charlie has to think that the problem truly is overpopulation.

2. Meeting with Adam

Let’s start with Adam himself. I hate this character. Especially as an adaptation of Adam. Yes, Adam is misogynistic. He expected Lilith to be subservient to him, but he wouldn’t be the frat boy type of misogynist, he’d be the old school chivalrous type. Grandpa style sexism. And shouldn’t the father of humanity care about his descendants? It doesn’t make any sense for him to be an executioner. He should be the leader of the guardian Angels or something.

In this rewrite, Adam is not the leader of the executioners, instead it’s the Angel Dumah. Dumah is the angel over the wicked dead, and he was appointed by God to torment sinners in Hell.

I want him to be an actual intimidating antagonist. He rarely speaks (his name means “silence”) and has many eyes (is described as having a thousand eyes)

As for the exorcists, they are Angels, but not actual dead humans wearing mask. They just look like that. Dumah is described as having tens of thousands of Angels of Destruction at his disposal. That’s what the exorcists are going to be, but instead of thousands, I’ll give him five. They don’t speak and are hardly sentient. They stand on top of the tower like gargoyles, until they “come to life” for the execution.

“But it’s a comedy! Shouldn’t they be funny?” No. It’s all about how characters react to them. The Litch in Adventure Time is a good example of this.

So obviously the meeting goes a lot differently.

Charlie gets a call, looks at the number, and excitedly tells everyone to, “shooooosh!” She takes the call nervously, saying, “yeah! Okay! Yes! Of course! I’ll be right there! Thank you SOOO much!!!” She hangs up and happily tells Vaggie that Dumah requested a meeting with her. Vaggie is nervous and says she should probably go with her, but Charlie says that she’ll be fine and tells her to stay and work on the commercial. She leaves excited that the Angels may finally be taking her seriously.

She makes it to the clock tower’s board room, where Dumah sits silently at the end of the table. Charlie nervously starts to greet him before she realizes they’re not alone. The Angels, Gabriel and Uriel have come from Heaven, for a meeting with Hell’s princess.

Uriel remains professional, politely bowing her head as she greeted Charlie. Gabriel on the other hand, threw his arms out, happily yelling, “Charlotte!!!” He wrapped her in an uncomfortably tight and awkward hug, saying how much she’s grown since he last saw her. He’s like a chill but estranged uncle meeting his now adult niece who he hasn’t seen since she was a baby and has no memory of him whatsoever.

Uriel watches the whole thing in embarrassment. She tells Charlie that Dumah had contacted them, regarding some, “interesting,” ideas about the extermination.

Charlie starts with her pitch, but Gabriel insists that they should take some time to catch up first. He claps his hands and summons plates of food for everyone. When we cut back to them, Gabriel is in the middle of telling the story about almost getting his ass kicked by Joseph when he told him his virgin wife was pregnant.

Uriel cuts him off, saying she doesn’t need to hear this story for the eighth millionth time. She turns to Charlie, exasperated, and tells her to get on with the pitch.

Charlie says that she has a potential solution for the over population problem in Hell. Uriel, Gabriel, and Dumah look at her blankly. Gabriel asks, “overpopulation?”

Charlie goes on to explain that she knows overpopulation is a big problem, but 275 sinners were executed this year alone and she just can’t stand to watch her people be slaughtered anymore.

Uriel asks if she’s suggesting an alternative, and Charlie very excitedly pitches her idea for the hotel. Uriel and Gabriel wear a matching “wtf” face and look back and forth at eachother like, “does this girl know what she’s suggesting?”

As Charlie is finishing, Uriel is visibly annoyed. She interrupts Charlie, complaining that this is ridiculous and has all been a massive waste of time as she stands up to leave. Charlie tries to stop her, saying, “please, you don’t understand.”

Uriel snaps back, “no, you don’t understand! They had their chance in life and they earned damnation.”

Charlie responds, “you're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.”

Uriel pinches the bridge of her nose (or where a nose would be on a person) “a mistake happens once. It’s an accident, an error in judgment due to naivety. Of course mistakes can be forgiven, but we’re not talking about mistakes, are we? These sinners had a choice, and they chose to live in sin.”

“A choice they now regret!” Charlie defends.

“It takes a lot more than regret to be forgiven.” Uriel says coldly. “It takes remorse.”

Gabriel chimes in, “she has a point, Charlie. It’s easy to make someone regret their actions, but to have them feel true selfless remorse, that is much more difficult.”

Charlie furrows her brow and starts to look defeated.

“But perhaps not impossible.”

Charlie beams with excitement. Gabriel explains that this is a big decision, too big to be made right now, but if she can successfully redeem one demon, they will allow her to come to heaven and pitch her idea to the entire Angelic court. Uriel tries to argue, but Gabriel just says they’ll discuss it later. Charlie gives him a tight hug before he and Uriel disappear.

As she turns to leave, Dumah puts his hand on her shoulder. This is the first time he’s moved in the entire scene. He stares at her coldly and says, “the only reason you’re here is your father has spared you from the executioner’s blade. If I had my way. Each and every one of you would be slaughtered.”

Charlie stares up at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For context, part of the reason Gabriel and Uriel were initially confused by Charlie’s proposal is because they know that Lucifer is trying to keep Hell’s population as high as possible, in preparation for the second war with heaven. That’s why he and the other princes of hell work to manipulate humanity and temp them towards sin (i.e. succubi and incubi). That’s why he arranges marriages between powerful demons to make powerful demon children (i.e. Stolas and Stella). He needs as many demons possible for his army if he’s gonna have a chance at winning. So obviously, sending sinners to heaven, aka the opposing force, is the LAST thing Lucifer would want.

[katakaluptastrophy]

Love your TLT meta! I'm curious - what do you make of Nona's "You looked like you wanted to be kissed, that's all." and Alecto's " This is how meat loves meat."?

Thank you!

I don't really have a coherent answer, and I suspect we won't really get one until ATN. We know that Alecto is...a Resurrection Beast...a fully Lyctorised cavalier...that is, some combination of the collective soul of planet earth and the soul of a human guy called John (plus or minus 10 billion ghosts). But just what is Nona?

You kept screaming and screaming...like a baby in pain. So I tried to hurt you - I did hurt you. I reached out for you and it hurt you... He said, I put my hands around your neck. He said, I cupped your soul in my hands. He said, I took you into myself and we became one. ...He said, As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you... I hid you in me. And when we were together...once the shaman had claimed the sun... I became God. (John 1:20)

This excerpt elides some of the full horror of John's description, in which Alecto screams rather a lot more and John is vomiting dirt and tearing his ribs out and blaming it all on human nature and his id while he binds her into some horrifying nightmare Barbie body and worries that she'll "escape" before he finishes.

We know Nona doesn't enjoy having a body. And we know necromancy makes Nona feel sad.

There's one particularly horrifying moment in NTN where these two things come together:

She wanted to shout. She wanted to be listened to. She wished the barrier had taken her hands. She wished she had thrust herself into it - become that big seething mass of flesh and meat and tendrils - ruined her body, just melted it; come back messed up, so that nobody could want her body but her, so that it would be hers and nobody else's. (NTN ch 24)

The language that Tamsyn Muir uses to describe both what John did to Alecto and the way that Nona's borrowed body subconsciously remembers that violence is so viscerally uncomfortable.

Just a few chapters later, Nona begins to remember who she is:

"Did you think this was fun, Pyrrah Dve? Did you think this was lovely? Family. Blood. Together. Kiss, kiss. A child's game. You say nice words and everyone pretends they are the words you say. Here is a house. We live in it. Worms slithering over each other... Did you like playing pretend? Did you like being mother and father? You should have given into your desires and eaten us. Chew and swallow. More natural. Would have respected you for it..." (NTN ch 28)

Who have we met who likes to play a twisted game of happy families but who at the end of the day will justify his desire to own and consume and destroy as natural and understandable?

What "lessons of the hand and the mouth" did Alecto learn when John "saw the face of Earth and choked the life out of it and ate it whole"? (John 5:4).

I'm never not haunted by the line in HTN where John reaches out for Harrow and she physically cannot refuse him: "the meat of your meat and the flesh of your flesh belonged to God." (ch 9), which so closely echoes Alecto's "this is how meat loves meat".

"I might not help you when... I'm back," she said, not quite understanding I. "I'll be different. I'll remember everything... I'll remember the thing I'm trying to forget... I won't love anything... I won't know how. I won't be me at all, or I'll be the me who knows the thing, and knowing the thing means I'm not Nona - I'm someone else." (ch 31)

Nona is, in some way we don't quite understand yet, Alecto without John.

And that fills me with quite a lot of sorrow for Alecto and trepidation for Alecto the Ninth.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Vikings (TV) Masterlist

my requests for vikings are currently partially OPEN! please only request imagines, and not oneshots. for those waiting for a continuation of ‘searching home’ or ‘unexpected’ i am so sorry... finishing those two is going to take me a while :/

hmu/msg me to be added to a taglist!

main masterlist | request guidelines

heorte til heorte

(msg me to be added to the taglist!)

relationship: athelstan x alethia stahl (oc) | summary: alethia wanted to go home, to return to her family. instead, she finds herself in ninth-century england. not speaking the language, and still processing the grief of her other life, she searches for an anchor - athelstan. | tags: angst, fluff, timetravel

masterlist | preview | read on ao3

No romantic relationships // character x character

Queendom - relationship: Lagertha x Aslaug | summary: They’ve both loved and they’ve both lost. Perhaps it was time that their hearts warmed again. | tags: angst, fluff

The Lothbroks, aka, the European version of the Kardashians - relationships: none | summary: When Barbie Murray time travels, she finds out that pink isn’t available in Viking times. Luckily, her new besties all understand that boobs are the best and slay (literally?!) with her. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

I may be a bimbo, but I’m not stupid - relationships: slight oc/ oc | summary: Ivar kills Sigurd in a fit of rage, but Barbie isn't so quick to forgive cruelness. | tags: angst, crack, timetravel

1st gen Vikings

Strange Woman  relationship: Rollo x timetraveler!reader | summary: The woman that appeared out of nowhere could be oh so dangerous, but even a stupid man would know that she was fascinating. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Friend of Thor - relationship: rollo x timetraveler!asgardian!reader | summary: The reader, a fellow Asgardian and friend of Thor and the new King of Asgard, Brunnhilde, falls through worlds as the new guardian of the Bifrost tampers with the magic. | tags: crack, fluff, timetravel

And the Gods wished they were me - relationship: Judith x viking!gn!reader | summary: Judith knows she should not mourn Athelstan. Nor should she even look at Norse heathens. She does both anyway, because Judith was named after a woman that had only rage and death, and she cannot escape her fate. | tags: angst, fluff

Ubbe Ragnarsson

Another day / part 2 - relationship: Ubbe x reader | prompt: we live to fight another day. | tags: angst

Oldest - relationship: Ubbe x timetraveler!reader; platonic!Ivar x reader | summary:  It seems that few things change about being the oldest sibling, no matter which place – or time | tags: fluff, timetravel, slight angst

Yggdrasil relationship: Ubbe x reader; platonic!Ivar x reader; dad!Harald x reader | summary:  How can you tell your father what happened to you when he’d done it to so many others. | tags: angst, dark/gory

Hvitserk 'Whiteshirt' Ragnarsson

Hvitserksdottir - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “I think we need to talk about the fact that I’m in love with you and also that I’m pregnant.” | tags: angst, fluff

Floki’s Cabin - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | prompt: “Just trust me. Please. | tags: angst

Searching Home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader | summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, dark/gory, timetravel

Neither - relationship: genderfluid!reader x Hvitserk | Summary: Hvitserk finds out about genderfluidity and accepts he might not be completely straight | tags: fluff, timetravel

Law of conservation - relationship: Hvitserk x reader | summary: You’ve been working as a tutor at your high school for about a year now. When your parents throw a barbecue party for your new neighbors, their mother Aslaug asks you to tutor her son Hvitserk, who is already a notorious flirt at his school. | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

When in Bali... -  relationships: hvitserk x reader, ivar x freydís, sigurd x oc | summary: You were supposed to go to Bali with your partner for your one-year anniversary. Instead, you’re there alone, heartbroken. Will reuniting with a friend you know from a summer vacation in elementary school be able to fix it? | tags: fluff

Ivar 'the Boneless' Ragnarsson

Unholy Matrimony - A Sham in Four Acts / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 - relationship: Ivar x reader | prompt: I’ve learnt to love you. | tags: angst, fluff smut

Insatiable Little Heathens  - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: drabble, for all of y’all who wanted more of Unholy Matrimony | tags: fluff

Resolve - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar’s legs hurt but he’s so fucking thickheaded | tags: fluff

My kind of witch - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar bed. The man with blazing blue eyes fascinates you as soon as you see him and as you realize the struggles he faces every day, your admiration for him grows into something more. | tags: fluff, timetravel

Red - relationship: ivar x reader | summary: Ivar finally meets his match. | tags: smut, dark/gory

Serve - relationship: sub!ivar x buff!reader | summary: Ivar keeps teasing you. You finally have enough and give him a taste of his own medicine | tags: smut

Searching home / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 -  relationships: Hvitserk x reader; Ivar x reader |  summary: When you stumble upon the ancient Spanish city of Algeciras, it takes you some time to realize that you’ve traveled through time. While that is terrible luck, a merchant couple takes you in. But your peace only lasts so long. | tags: angst, fluff, smut, dark/gory, timetravel

Totally artistic -  relationship: ivar x reader | summary: When inspiration hits, you can’t stop it | tags: fluff

Sandcastles - relationship: platonic!hvitserk, ivar x timetraveler!reader | summary: reader builds sandcastles, Ivar doesn’t get it and Hvitserk loves the idea of it | tags: fluff, timetravel

Brother - relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader, reader & oc | summary: You left your home and your brother behind for a reason. Now, a man is causing trouble at the borders of Kattegat, and as Ivar's queen, you take justice into your own hands. | tags: fluff

Unexpected / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 - relationship: ivar x thrall!reader | summary: Ivar finally decides to fuck the slave he’s been eyeing for so long, but when his angry side slips out, things take a turn for the wholly unexpected. | tags: smut

Tarot -  relationships: ivar x reader, hvitserk & reader | summary: Your day at the fair has been pretty slow – until a client like no other shows up. | tags: fluff

Imagines

How the Vikings would react to an accidental time traveler and a quiz to see if you’d survive: https://uquiz.com/dVXpgW

Ragnarssons (+Gyda): First Kiss

Social Media 

How the Vikings would react to guns and snapchat filters 

How the Vikings would react to modern dancing 

How the Vikings would react to modern music, and what they’d like

How the Vikings would react to modern concepts of astronomy and space 

How the Vikings react to modern haircare 

Vikings and Astrology

How Vikings would react to THEM timetraveling

Vikings + getting sick 

Vikings + Halloween 

Vikings + realizing you’re pregnant

Vikings characters + how they'd react to finding Accidental Time Traveler crying somewhere and not knowing why 

Vikings + you on your period  (+ more hcs about Ivar)

Vikings + Legos

Vikings + reader being much less stressed in their time

Vikings + single mother

Vikings + Gender Neutral Thor

Vikings + modern food

Vikings + touch avoidant cuddler

Vikings + Kids

Vikings + their history

Ragnarssons + being possesive

Vikings + Maleficent/Fae!reader

Vikings + curls and afros

Vikings + sleeping habits

Vikings + contortionist/super flexible reader

Vikings as modern!uni students

Vikings + affectionate drunk!reader

timetraveling!Vikings + modern tv/movies

Vikings + gen z slang

Vikings + curly haired kids

timetraveling!Vikings + Christmas

Vikings + eras other than their own

Vikings + ivar being remembered/famous

[lonniemachin]

Omar reached out to me to help spread his fundraiser. He is a Palestinian in Rafah urgently trying to raise money for necessities of survival and to evacuate his 9-person family. He has only raised €4,893 out of his €50,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Omar's GFM:

Hello, I am Mohammed, a Palestinian student in Germany, I am trying to forward the message of a good friend in Gaza, please support him !!!

Hello to everyone with humanity in this world. I'm speaking to you from Gaza, and I don't know if we will survive in the coming days from this death that draws nearer with each passing day. God spared me from the previous four wars on Gaza, but this war is entirely different. Perhaps in the coming days, I won't be among you anymore. Maybe death will take me as it took my friends and relatives from me.

I am Omar Hamad from Gaza Strip, Beit Hanoun city. I graduated from the College of Pharmacy in 2019. I worked hard in pharmacies and pharmaceutical companies to save up enough money to open my own pharmacy. Because I am very interested in the field of cosmetics and skincare, I didn't open a pharmacy. Instead, I opened my own skincare and hair care store, "Cosmatics," and it cost me around $45,000.

In the last few months before the war, I prepared my apartment and, literally, "poured my heart's blood" into furnishing it. It cost me a hefty amount, around $20,000, and I was ready to get married. But the war did not allow that. It did not grant us even a simple life, which is the right of every human in this world. This world has become desolate, where we see death every day and it cannot even save our children.

I belong to a beautiful, loving, and kind family. My father, mother, brothers Ahmed, Abdullah, Sameh, and Mohamed, and my sisters Faten, Ward, and Reem. My elder brother Ahmed is deaf and mute, suffering in the war from the intensity of the bombing and the concussion in his ear, where he never sleeps at night. My sisters Faten and Ward are also deaf and mute, and their suffering is more difficult because they are females and their physical structure is weaker, as those vibrations and concussions in their ears reverberate heavily. Meanwhile, my sister Reem's fiancé was killed in the war. She couldn't look at life with a hopeful gaze. Our sorrows could fill the whole world and overwhelm it. Oh God, why does all of this happen!

My mother also lost her three brothers, her mother, her brother's wife, and her brother's daughter during the war, all brutally killed. Despite all the sorrow that fills our hearts, we still have a positive outlook towards the future.

After being forced to evacuate from the northern Gaza Strip to its south, we went to the Palestinian Red Crescent in Khan Yunis. The bombing and scenes of killing and destruction were numerous. One day, while my friends and I were eating in our tent, the house next to us was bombed, and shrapnel fell into our food, miraculously sparing us. On another day, a group of people in the street next to us was bombed, and I saw before me 17 bodies, all torn apart, scattered flesh. I couldn't stand from the horror of the scene.

Then we moved to Rafah, on a barren sandy land, if found, on an area of 8 square meters. Twenty meters of expensive nylon and some ropes, that's how a scar is made on the ground bearing the name "tent," assigned to shelter an entire family that meets all its needs within its walls. Living inside it without a bathroom, without a kitchen, without flooring, without pillars, without covers, without warmth, without anything except a heavy heart, a wandering mind, an empty stomach, dense fog, and a very long night, accompanied by sadness, loss of loved ones, wind, rain, and bone-chilling cold. And thus, we await death.

We all need at least medical and psychological care to alleviate some of this pain, also due to the prevalence of diseases and the lack of clean drinking water and the scarcity of food.

We deserve a dignified life like any human in this world. We don't want to live just to survive; we don't want to live like animals only thinking about drinking and eating. We want to live with dignity, with freedom. I am full of hope and optimism that you will support us and help us. If you find that we deserve a better life, please help us in this campaign, which is $50,000.

• The permits and fees necessary to leave the Gaza Strip through the Egyptian Rafah are $5,000 per person (9 people, which is $45,000), in addition to $5,000 to secure the lives of 9 people for rent, buying clean clothes, and securing food and drink at least in the first few days.

Thank you very much for being interested in reading and hearing my story. You are not obliged to help, but we all hope that you will help us and that we will live a dignified life free from bombing, death, blood, and destruction, and also free from continuous hunger and thirst, a life full of cleanliness and hope.

Omar.

[icycoldninja]

Fluffcember #25 (Sparda boys x reader)

Sparda boys spending Christmas with their S/O

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL

¤Dante¤

-Dear God, if you think he was a wacky woo hoo weirdo before, he gets even crazier during Christmastime. Gorges himself sick on spiced egg nog and iced sugar cookies, as well as stuffed turkey and mashed potatoes with extra thick gravy.

-To Dante, Christmas is all about eating. That line from "A night before Christmas" has never been applied to someone in real life more accurately than now. "Visions of sugar plums danced in their heads..."

Yeah, that's Dante.

-Plays Christmas rock music (think Jingle Bell Rock) on full volume while jamming along with his guitar in the middle of the living room, wearing naught but a Santa hat.

-Decorates the whole of Devil May Cry with like a thousand knotted Christmas lights because he was way too lazy to untangle them (Figures) and brings in a really cheap, withered looking tree like the one in Charlie Brown. Though, like Charlie Brown, you guys managed to fix it up real nice.

-Drags Vergil and Nero to your place for a fun, family Christmas, but things go south real quick: Nero ends up stealing all the treats and eating dessert before dinner, Vergil and Dante drink too much liquor spiked egg nog and have a drunken brawl in the living room before passing out in the hallway.

-At the end of the night, you had to drag all the boys into the living room and cram them either into sleeping bags or wrangle them onto the couch before exhaustedly trudging back to your own bedroom for a long night's rest. Merry Christmas.

《Vergil》

-The mature and responsible one--also the one who wants to have the least involvement with everything. Just sits in his plastic chair, reading his book, not caring nor acknowledging what is happening around him.

-It is therefore your duty to put up the decorations and cook the Christmas meals, but don't despair. You won't be alone. Nero and Dante have come over for Christmas (Vergil was against it, but they're family) and are more than happy to help--even if all they do is make messes.

-Christmas dinner with the Sparda family are typically a mixture of loud and rambunctious chattering (caused by Dante and Nero joking around) and quiet conversation with Vergil, which can barely be heard over the other two's yammering.

-After dinner has been devoured and the two idiots have left, Vergil lets out a sigh of relief--a sigh only a long suffering eldest sibling can make. Then he heads for his plastic chair, ready to delve back into the world of his book.

-Doesn't mind if you want to sit on his lap and cuddle while he reads. It is cold out, after all. ♡

-Spends the entire night chilling with you, watching movies, reading books, and eventually falling asleep in each other's arms.

♤Nero♤

-Takes after his father, in the sense that he likes cuddling and just relaxing, either by himself or with you.

-Unfortunately, he also takes after his uncle, in the sense that he's loud and loves to eat. He loves it so much in fact, that nearly all the cookies vanish before you can get to ice them, and it probably wasn't Santa.

-Has no idea how to hang decorations so he just buys a cheap wreath, throws it on the door, and decides he's done for the day.

-Dresses up as an elf and parades around with a radio blasting Micheal Buble on loop, specifically to get on your nerves and distract you from whatever you were doing.

-When Vergil and Dante come over for dinner, expect absolute chaos. Vergil cannot wrap his head around why his son--his own FLESH AND BLOOD--is prancing about dressed in a green skintight leotard. It's too much for him. He spaces out and just stares at the wall blankly, barely touching his food while wondering what influenced his poor baby boy to be this way.

-Meanwhile, Dante is having the time of his life, laughing his head off while snapping pictures to post online and to show the others so they have more excuses to make fun of poor Nero.