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kmze · 2 months

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Thoughts on 4x13-4x23 TBH I had a lot of fun watching this half! I liked Elena’s no humanity arc and I enjoyed Silas fucking around with everyone and getting inside their heads. I also liked the detours to NYC and the storybook town Katherine compelled. There is some good foreshadowing this half and it was definitely much better than the first half of S4 (at least to me) The worst part was Bonnie’s storyline because of how tragically it ended and that she wasn’t in control of herself for much of it (this season was rough for her, might be her roughest). Also everyone appears to be dumber for plot reasons (or maybe it was just Damon being put in charge too often). Thoughts below!

4x13

The way Rebekah body slammed Elena CTFU!!

Klaus is such an asshole. As much as I have enjoyed some of the Klaus and Caroline scenes this season (my feelings about them have evolved, they are a necessary evil lol) stuff like this will always turn me off about them.

This Forwood scene is both touching and heartbreaking. Caroline reassuring Tyler he did the right thing because he freed the hybrids, and calling him a leader. They’re so great.

Again it's so cruel how the show is handling Beremy in regards to Bonnie. They came back together pretty quickly, which isn't a bad thing because it shows Jeremy has been pining this whole time (which your own fault my guy). However, they are just setting Bonnie up because he's gonna die! All those shirtless muscle grazes for nothing.

Rebekah dropping truth bombs though about how everyone should shut up about taking the moral high ground.

I like that Caroline always finds a way to stay alive! She knew she could use Klaus’ feelings for her against him to cure her, and she doesn’t have to give him anything in return. Adapt or die.

4x14

I am so tired of hearing about the cure already!

These beach/forest island scenes are making me zone out, I have no idea what's going on with this plot and very ready for it to end.

Nah Klaus was being way too nice and forgiving, Tyler and Caroline needed to be quicker figuring that out.

For someone who hates Elena she sure does talk about her ALL THE TIME JFC Rebekah, get a life.

But EL OH EL at Elena trying to get Stefan back to worshipping her by talking about his feelings on being human and when she asks why he didn't tell her he says "because it wasn't about you" BURN!

I like how you can subtly tell its Katherine when she goes to bite the hunter. Elena never would have done that.

Poor Forwood :(

Klaus is so fucking delusional “you know I would never hurt you” you just did less than 24 hours ago!

4x15

Stefan and Caroline have great silent communication.

Sometimes I read Reddit against my better judgement and for some reason they all believe Stefan and Bonnie should have happened. But I’m sorry after 3.5 seasons into this rewatch Stefan doesn’t give a flying fuck about Bonnie! Whatever “friendship” people think was “ignored” does not exist! He basically told Damon to leave her on that island with a 2000 year old psychic immortal because Damon needed to use the sire bond (!!!) on Elena. Bonnie doesn’t really fuck with him either, ever since Grams died she keeps her distance more than I noticed before. I think Bonnie recognizes how much Stefan is a lying liar who lies.

I think that’s why Bonnie ultimately got closer to Damon than she ever did to Stefan. Not that she trusts Damon or even really likes him until S6, but he at least shows her who he is all the time.

Damon and Caroline do not have good silent communication lol.

The crazypants Bonnie scenes are amusing in a scary way during all this heavy stuff.

This was one of the most emotional episodes of this show ever and I mean that in a good way. Nina deserved more accolades for her performance because it’s really heartbreaking, and she does a fantastic job of switching from extremely emotional to “emotionless” humanity off.

The scene where the trio walks out of the house while it’s burning you see Damon and Elena keep walking together but Stefan stays back a bit to look at the house and gets separated from the two of them. I felt like that was foreshadowing that Stefan is going to move on and essentially leave the triangle.

4x16

Wait did Elena just imply Caroline has seen her naked!

Damon’s list of things Klaus sucks at CTFU!

I feel like Stefan always has a vervain needle in his pocket LMFAO! Phone, keys, wallet, vervain needle. It will also endlessly amaze me how often vamps get roofied by vervain needles in broad daylight and just no one cares.

The way NH!Elena stops when she sees Stefan and Caroline dancing and stomps over GREATEST MOMENTS IN TVD HISTORY! I firmly believe this is the first time we see Stefan have his more than friendship feelings for Caroline (the ones that scared him and he pushed away) and actually act on them.

OMG am I ready for Rebekah to go away already!

Klaus and Hayley have ZERO chemistry wow. They definitely get better on TO but this was painful to watch.

Personally I would have told Stefan “not my problem” re: NH!Elena but Caroline is nicer than me. She’s also still kinda falls for his tricks at this point (wait until S6 my friends).

4x17

Love the 1977 flashback mostly for the use of Psycho Killer.

KLEFAROLINE! I can’t believe this is the only episode ever that they all shared scenes at the same time.

Isn’t Shane dead?!? I can’t follow this storyline at all man.

You can always tell how bad the show is treating Bonnie by how bad her wig/hair is and right now it's getting bad again. It looked great with the curtain bangs but the full bangs are a no-go. How this show managed to make Kat Graham look NOT gorgeous on purpose is it's most heinous crime.

I think we can all agree when Klaus said “don’t underestimate the allure of darkness Stefan, even the purest of hearts are drawn to it” it was him propositioning Stefan and Caroline to have a threesome.

I’m really enjoying the NYC scenes and the flashbacks. It’s giving a different feel to the show and I like it, almost the opposite of how it made me feel in the beginning of the season. Maybe we’re transitioning with Elena again but this time it's about having no humanity and hedonism so it's like grimmy, dark and sexy. Also change of scenery once in a while is a good thing.

Klaus pushing Stefan against the tree was way more sexual than the script intended me thinks. Then Caroline rushes over, and that’s why we only got one episode of this throuple, le sigh.

Damn NH!Damon was cold blooded in the flashback with Lexi, I forgot about that.

4x18

Katherine compelling a whole town reminds me of WandaVision now.

Stefan pointing out how incompetent Damon is lol always funny (and true).

NH!Elena intimidating Katherine is GOLD! Nina is having so much fun with this arc and I love that for her.

Damon and Stefan being like “ew” at Katherine and Elijah like they both haven’t slept with her AND her doppelgänger.

Honestly the vial the cure was in did not look like a 2000 year old vial so like again, morons. Damon for some reason thought Katherine was as stupid as him and hide it in the most obvious spot.

NH!Elena is right how fucking stupid is Elijah that he trusted Katherine or believes anything she says EVER. He's just as gullible as his sister.

I’m with Elijah honestly Klaus no one cares about you being tormented, you’re the worst and this is karma. I'm also with him in regards to Rebekah and her insisting on taking the cure, you wouldn't last one day without superpowers, you're just bored and need attention.

4x19

Caroline still got the better dress lol. I do love when she uses men's affections to get herself things.

Silas appearing as everyone was a good villain for this half. Gave everyone an opportunity to play something different, plus there’s always something scary about a shapeshifter especially one that can read your mind.

Bonnie going cray-cray again but even worse her hair and this dull dress WTF?! Like they gave her prom queen but at what cost! I hope Kat burned this wig once she was free from it.

I personally feel like the Steroline prom dance affects Stefan more than Caroline. She maybe feels a little tingle after they share a look but Stefan’s reaction is way more played up. He’s the one who lowers his head like they might kiss and then the breath he takes after. My heart. Love how this becomes such an important moment in their love story, especially for him. He mentions it in his speech about loving her changed his life, and oh yeah his friggin' wedding vows!

See another vervain needle! This guy!

I'm sorry but LMFAO at Klaus talking about humanity saying mockingly "why does this always happen to innocent people" because he's kinda right! Being human in this world would be super lame with all the supernatural power and knowledge they have.

Elijah knows there's a super-powerful immortal psychic who can impersonate people wondering around and he doesn't ask for even a little bit of clarifying information when "Rebekah" says she passed his test. Also he just believes she passed his test? HOW IS HE THIS GULLIBLE?!

4x20

The first scene cracks me up in retrospect like “we three are contractually obligated to be in all episodes so here’s some random dialogue to fill that” LMFAO

MARCEL <333 you beautiful sexy ass hell man, I shall always crackship you with Bonnie Boncel4lyfe

Elijah is just as bad as Stefan when it comes to his brother, like OMG just let that man GO! Some people just don’t want to be saved man.

The Klamille scene when they looking at the painting and discussing it is really nice (plus great song). I know technically he looked at art with Caro first but like Cami actually appreciates art and Caro couldn’t really care less beyond distracting him lol.

4x21

IDK if I can believe Caroline was valedictorian… I mean I don’t think she’s dumb or not determined enough to get it but there is no way she attended enough classes to get it. Sorry show I don’t believe you.

You know Caroline is moving up in the TVD food chain when Matt turns a dig about her from Rebekah into a compliment!

Matt being the trigger for Elena made sense, he got the biggest emotional reaction out of her when she first saw him in the woods. I don’t think Damon got any real emotional reaction out of her tbh, and Stefan got some with her jealousy over Caroline and when he compared her to Katherine. This just proves Matlena should have been endgame like I’ve always said!

4x22

Stefan definitely had Caroline babysitting Elena.

Sorry but I love how everyone doesn’t even entertain the idea Elena could kill Katherine. They are like she’s 500 years old and 500x smarter than you, you will die.

Lexi’s comments are great foreshadowing for Steroline. They are ambiguous enough that they don’t say Stefan has feelings for Caroline but they don’t deny it. Lexi definitely seems to think so though and she's known him for over 100 years so...

I know Katherine and Elena have tons of reasons to want each other dead but it felt like they played it up on purpose this episode and the next one to make them fight and give Katherine the cure. It’s not OOC or anything just feels more manufactured than it needed to be.

I can’t believe they killed Bonnie! I know it’s temporary but JFC she can’t catch a break, this was an awful season half for her. Fuck Julie and Dries.

4x23

I can’t believe they had Stefan graduate LMFAO zero people believe he attended more than 2 classes this whole year.

I like how the Klaroline scene in 4x23 and the Steroline scene in 6x22 work in tandem. I used to view it as a conflict but now I appreciate how they work so well for Caroline. Two hot powerful guys promising her their heart and she gets to choose which one whenever she wants since they both gave an open timeline. It girl behavior!

I don’t think I ever zone out more than when Damon and Elena make one of their yelling love declarations of toxicity. I will never understand their appeal.

Poor Stefan. I do feel a little bad but they did hint all season he was going to be the one to move on and he knew it too. Through a rewatch it’s easy to see the hints and foreshadowing. His scene with Damon where he says he’s “not not happy for you” is great too because that’s what matters to him more in the end.

Human Katherine! Such a great storyline excited for it!

HELLO MY SHADOW SELF

Lines that made me laugh:

Rebekah: You’re like Sherlock Holmes with brain damage (she's annoying but she is funny!)

Elena: You got Lexi’d! (CRYING I swear everyone is funnier without humanity)

Caroline: I don’t know if this is your new weird way of flirting, but it sucks. (her delivery was the best part)

#tvd rewatch #tvd spoilers #S4 rewatch #4x13 - 4x23 #anti-delena for ts #anti-stelena for ts #sort of I wasn't really anti I just wasn't nice lol #forwood for ts #steroline for ts #klaroline for ts #again I wasn't anti but I was a little mean #but he stabbed her with a lamp and bite her I can't be nice about that #k rewatches tvd

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orpheusilver · 2 months

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next time you get bored u should answer this ask to talk about your Eric and Morbius ^_^ i love Blade so much so i’m interested in what you have planned so far

hiiiiiiiiiii im procrastinating lol. anyway so you know how this is a hall of mirrors ass story and everybody parallels everybody? yea

sooo eric is the biggest and clearest foil to morgan bc they have.. so much in common. not quite a vampire. trying to atone for times they lost control and killed human people. badass vamp-killing machines. many such cases but the Differences are the funky bit bc on one hand morgan had a like. half-decent upbringing with parents and a house and everything, hes far from stable but the idea of emotional vulnerability isnt totally alien to him. Eric was a very lonely child in a terrible life-threatening situation who grew up into a very lonely adult in a slightly less terrible life-threatening situation.

to be clear eric does have people in his life! its just that theres only 2 of them. he got adopted by his cool butch biker mom whistler as a young teen and theyve been doing the vampire slaying thing ever since, and a few years ago they picked up a hematologist called karen jensen who fell into the "older sister" role. (okay yes like 80% of the blade-related plot was pulled straight from Blade (1998) but ignore that im doing some funky shit with it. okay.) she says shes an uninvolved civilian who provides medical aid since she owes eric a life debt, but this is a lie. shes In the shenanigans.

so like he does have his gay little found family but theres some shit they just dont Get yknow. so then once he does start trusting morgan they get. Very close . Very quickly. hes experiencing previously unknown types of human connection, including being gay in practice and not just in theory! and sure hes kinda avoidant and struggles to open up and express his feelings or establish boundaries but thats ok bc morgan is so anxious about rejection and abandonment that hes very willing to put in tons of work with being vulnerable! theyre meeting somewhere in the middle, they think! morgans only a little bit clingy and always suuuuper apologetic when he crosses those unclear boundaries! surely this is a healthy dynamic that wont collapse catastrophically due to communication problems!

anyway primary foil number 2: peter-man. as in superhero role model / the cooler super-powered role model. like pete always sees morbius as someone who needs to be helped and guided and saved and supported and first and foremost as his Responsibility. eric, at least at first, sees him as a Fucking Threat. to be understood and/or neutralized. and morgan really appreciates that! then eric learns to trust and respect him and they begin this totally-not-dysfunctional partnership of equals, its kinda cute if you ignore that its blatantly barreling towards destruction <3

edit i completely forgot the point of that last paragraph. eric respecting morgan like an equal makes him realize that actually, spider-guy is being kind of a cunt about this and why is he trying to prove himself to that loser anyway hes got a cool goth boyfriend now. he actually tries to earn peters respect by making him recognize him as dangerous which BACKFIRES BADLY lmao bc peter is trying to control morbius' sense of Hero Ethics just as much as hes trying to control who he punches and when, so seeing morgan get scary makes him double down on the "holy shit dont get evil" stuff. which also backfires badly. these dudes are all fucking trainwrecks

#this answers NOTHING hope it helps lol <3 #ahau tag

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thetypedwriter · 1 year

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A Marvellous Light by Freya Marske

A Marvellous Light Book Review by Freya Marske

I finished A Marvellous Light three days ago and I’m already struggling to remember what I had to say about it. That does not bode well for Freya Marske’s debut novel.

The book is another take on magical folk in England, this time in the early 1900’s. Marske has some interesting ideas about how magic works and the society around it, but none of the details truly blew me away or gave me a breathtaking new view on magical storytelling.

Marske’s magicians are secluded amongst magical families who keep magic to themselves and their bloodlines. You get a few bits of the society interwoven throughout the plot, like their version of the government called the Assembly, and the police force called the Coopers, but overall, it’s your standard take on magical people in old-timey London.

The setting itself was small. We don’t see a great variety of locations and those that we do see as readers are often contained to homes or cottages. This is one of the first criticisms that I picked up on.

Our two main characters spend most of the novel traversing between one minuscule setting and the next. One gentleman goes by the name of Edwin Courcey, a pale, cowardly, bookish young man from a well-known magical family.

The other half of the duo, Sir Robin Blyth, finds himself mysteriously and yet inextricably tied up in a magically evil scheme even though he doesn’t have a single drop of magical blood himself and didn’t know magicians existed before his current job of working for the liaison’s office.

By taking on the job after the absence of a previous employee, Gatling, and becoming unbusheled (aka, now knowing about magic), Robin finds himself the target of strange, powerful men who are looking for an item called the Last Contract.

For his ignorance on the matter, Robin is cornered, attacked, and cursed with a spell that causes him immeasurable pain and also awakens the power of foresight within him, allowing him to see bizarre and complicated visions with no understanding of their importance.

Thus begins Edwin and Robin’s journey to lift Robin’s curse, find out what happened to Reggie Gatling, uncover the bewildering truth behind the Last Contract, and perhaps even find love and camaraderie along the way.

When I write it out like that, the book sounds solid and like it has multiple perplexing mysteries going on simultaneously that would entice and engage the reader. It…doesn’t. The book is so slow and meandering that the mysteries, while promising at the premise, are so painstaking in the delivery that the book becomes a slog to get through.

After I finished reading, I was able to sum up the book into 5 distinct events: Robin finds out about magic and is cursed, Robin and Edwin go to Edwin’s family home and are tortured by sadistic siblings, Robin and Edwin almost die in a hedge maze before Edwin inherits an estate from a deceased, old woman, and Robin and Edwin figure out the Last Contract and confront, Walt, Edwin��s bully big brother and a leading force looking for the Contract by any means necessary.

Again, it sounds like a lot, but the book is nearly 400 pages. So in between those five events, you have nearly 80 pages of just…meandering nothingness. You have a lot of scenes of them dining on toast, sipping tea, looking at books, and, most erroneously, multiple sex scenes of gratuitous length and detail.

Now, I don’t mind sex scenes in adult fiction. They’re fine. Sometimes they’re even spicy. However, I could not figure out the point of the sex scenes in Marske’s book. This book isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey, it’s sole purpose isn’t to titillate or arouse like that book is.

And it wasn’t even one sex scene, it was several very long, very detailed sex scenes. But then she would immediately delve back into the plot and want you to take it seriously as a reader. The combination didn’t work for me. I found the long, drawn out sex scenes boring after the first page or two and the takeaway was just to…have a long sex scene? I didn’t get it.

So while the plot was decent in its idea, the execution took so long in the interim and was filled with such pointless fluff that it made the book tedious from one major plot point to the next.

The characters themselves were…fine. I can admit that I would understand people liking them. Edwin, cowardly and bookish, but so smart and stubborn. Robin, fiercely loving, jovial, and athletic.

The characters had a decent amount of characterization, but I was never sold. Edwin was the most interesting because he was the most nuanced, but everyone else fell into the category of good or evil pretty concretely.

Because of that, I didn’t fall in love with any of the characters and the developing romance between Edwin and Robin didn't hook me because it was so fast and they were all-in without having any real moments to make it seem realistic to me.

I’ve been pretty harsh on this book overall, but it wasn’t the most terrible thing I’ve ever read. It was a mediocre magical fantasy with some decent characterization and interspersed action. The writing itself was a little too verbose for my taste, but Marske’s writing style fits the tone and mood of the story she’s trying to portray.

She sets up the end in a satisfying way that resolves most loose ends, but also executes the premise for book two clearly to hook the reader. As much as I can see why people might like this book, I don’t plan on reading any sequels.

Recommendation: Every aspect of this book has been done better elsewhere. Want magic and fantasy? Read Harry Potter. Want detailed sex scenes? Read Docile. Want a mystery adventure? Read Dark Rise. Want a too-long story with imperfect characters and sex scenes randomly sprinkled in? Perhaps A Marvellous Light is the book for you.

Score: 6/10

#a marvellous light #freya marske #adult fiction #popular fiction #Popular Books #book blog #book review #Book Recommendations #book rec #book recs #magical fantasy #LGBTQ fiction #lgbtqbook #6/10

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cryptidjeepers · 2 years

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okay so. my Disenchanted review. my credentials are: being a huge Enchanted fan. Rewatching the movie at least 3x a year. love amy adams.

6.5/10 Full review under the cut and be warned, its a lot of brain ramblies

the good

I guess I want to start with the good stuff. I really liked how the movie focused on GIselle and Morgan as stepmother and daughter, but also two people that really need each other. The first movie was about Robert and Giselle and I really feel like there wasn’t much more development there. So I wasn’t upset that Robert got sidelined (hes also kind of the most boring character outside of his role in Enchanted, sorry McDreamy).

The first half of the movie was a bit, too much. But the second half is where I really started to enjoy it.

Obviously the costumes and set design were incredible. Amy Adams was going for an Oscar with her Jekyll and Hyde Giselle moment. The way her voice dropped to be evil, need I say more?

The story was enjoyable! The call backs felt a little forced, but still cute. The songs were... disney Decsendents level if I’m being honest. And i dont even mean that in a bad way its just, a grown ass woman singing them was a bit secondhand embarrassing.

also, james mardsen, as always, is an absolute delight

the not so great

My issues were with how over complicated the plot was. Enchanted was sooo good because of how simple it was, while also being very smart. It’s a fairy tale turned on its head and it’s clever. Disenchanted isn’t. Really clever? The eising wand felt a bit too convient. The pacing is too fast to really dwell on the issues the characters are having.

And speaking of issues, there are too many lmaoo. Giselle and Morgan are both struggling to find their place. A cartoon-turned real girl feeling out of place and a teenager moving to a new town. There was a lot of potential. Unfortunately, they kinda just turned Giselle into a selfish stay-at-home mom (also, was the baby really important??? what happened to her fashion business). Giselle’s character struggles to stay cartoonish and real, which is ironic because that’s her whole deal. It’s been like 10 years since she started living in New York, how has she somehow went backwards in her character development.

imo, the movie should have been more about Giselle losing that fairytale touch while dealing with the very real and complex emotions of being a new mom and stepmom. Maybe she woke up one day and realized how different she’s become. But no, its just this weirdly selfish need to move to suburbia. Also she’s a stay at home mom beefing with pta moms for some reason. Everything feels so half-baked, which is interesting since they did do reshoots due to inital mixed reviews

Speaking of pta moms, they really built up the whole prince and princess of the festival thing for no reason other than giselle setting up that, quite frankly, cringe worthy cupcake stand at the highschool. and for morgan’s extremely bland love interest.

I guess my biggest problem was how it compared to Enchanted. I’m sure, on it’s own, DIsenchanted is a great movie. But Enchanted was about Robert and Giselle breaking each other out of their monotonous, monochromatic lives. Giselle learns to be more Real, while Robert learns to embrace spontaneity. Disenchanted feels a lot like Giselle trying to play both roles, with Robert doing absolutely nothing. I said earlier how I actually like Robert being put to the side, but it is frustrating how Robert didn’t notice Giselle strugging at all. He does not to help her. imo, the minute he saw her acting evil should have broke the spell or at least pushed through a little and made him concerned. He has big “ignorant dad in a sitcom” energy, which sucks.

the bad

okay im not film expert, nor am i a choreographer, but man, was I the only one that felt disappointed by the music and spontaneious dance sequences. The town square scene and inital scene with morgan and robert singing were probably the best because of how silly and self-indulgent they were. They felt like they wuld fit in Enchanted, which, again, is funny since the song is literally a reference to the first movie.

But some of the sequence felt like I was being danced at? Like these two 40 year old women were doing well choreographer tiktok dances at me. It took me out of the movie so quickly and I struggled to enjoy it. I really wanted to enjoy Badder, but the second half of the song just felt weird. Like they were hoping for a tiktok banger or something. But yeah, Enchanted may have only had 4 songs, only 2 of which were sung by main characters, but they’re all bangers. What Disenchanted makes up for in songs, it lacks in quality.

and lived happily ever after, I guess (except nothing was really dealt with sooo)

The end

#disenchanted #enchanted #enchanted movie #disney #disenchanted movie #okay but did anyone else find the dancing really weird

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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, ��when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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xo-alie-xo · 3 years

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CLEAR QUEERBAITING IN THE SCHOOL OF GOOD AND EVIL BOOKS 😒

So as a kid, I've read the SGE books and was a huge fan of them.💖 I was a teenager when the first book came out and I started shipping Tagatha....but towards the end, I started LOVING Agaphie?? Like....Agaphie was extremely interesting and so damn layered. I was sooo surprised and mindblown when Agatha kissed Sofie on the LIPS! 😘 Shocker! The best way possible. 🙌🏼 Completely subverted fairy tale tropes.👏🏼 Good loving the Evil. Evil sacrificing for the Good. A Princess and a Witch! I thought it was one of the best fairytale books ever.🧙‍♀️👸

Then, I heard there were sequels. And I read them as soon as they came out for Agaphie. But they never discussed what happened. Like am I supposed to believe a straight girl kissed a girl on the lips in the heat of the moment to show her true love?😅 I was willing to ignore that thinking maybe Agatha wasn't open about her feelings.🤔 And then Sofie was a boy called Filip and Tedros canon fell for him. So Tedros is confirmed Bisexual. Good for him.🤗 Then, Tagatha. Tedros and Agatha was cute. I was like okay, maybe Tagatha is just a plot device like Tedros and Filip. 🤨

But then, Soman went and made them canon SISTERS? INCEST MUCH??🤢 I was pissed with the queer baiting. They didn't have to do that. He could've just progressed with Tagatha. But he made biological half-sisters kiss on the lips?🤬 I'm sorry but that's really weird. Sure, there are some cultures where women embrace with a quick peck, but that's certainly not what happened with Agaphie. It was a True Love's Kiss?? ❤🤧

It could've just been a forehead kiss. Like Maleficent with Aurora. That would've sufficed too.💁‍♀️ But he made them kiss on the lips at the end of the first book and queerbaited the audience? Whyy? He's in the LGBTQ+ community I know, but Queerbaiting is still not right.🚫 He of all people should know that. A POC being racist towards other POC is still racism. Just like how you can be gay and homophobic. 🙄

So, the next sequels came out and I was still interested in reading them to see how the hell he managed to incorporate the half-sister storyline. But it was never mentioned again and Sofie and Agatha never spoke about it. So, it had no relevance to the plot. 😑

Basically what I see is two girls who are polar opposites subverting the fairytale tropes with their romantic love. True love is even if you turn enemies and fight, you can never hate them. Hurt? Yes. Hate? No.💕 But having to move on with heteronorms because of their homophobic community who also shamed Agatha because she looked different. The sad reality in many places.😞 They are also canon bisexual, so Agatha moved with Tedros and Sophie stayed single. Okay, cool. But Soman said, "Nope. I'm gonna make them kiss on the lips, but they are sisters (although they didn't know it at the time AND the sister plot never had an impact on the story so it wasn't relevant). SISTERS SO NO HOMO. Cut the bullshit please.😤🤬

I really hope they changed this awful queerbaiting in the movie. Because people WILL ship them. 2022 will be much more accepting of Queer storylines than early 2010s. But only to find they are sisters who kissed on the lips. Okay, when did this become Game of Thrones?🤣 The audience will feel like they got queerbaited and will be pissed. And bad reviews for an otherwise well written book/movie. So Paul Feig, please fix this huge HUGE error.🤦‍♀️

So dear Paul and Netflix, either:-

1) Let Agatha kiss Sophie on the forehead and establish the sister reveal EARLY ON.👩‍👧‍👧 Because it never changed the plot later. Not really a spoiler alert. So, similar to Maleficent kissing Aurora on the forehead.

2) Make sure someone makes them believe they are sisters, commenting on how close they are and how much they deep down love each other.😍 But only to reveal they are NOT SISTERS. So, indirectly saying not all best friend relationships are "SISTERLY" aka homophobics discrediting wlw.💁‍♀️ And let them kiss on the lips as normal. Because it is normal for two non-straight girls to kiss on the lips.👭😘

But they move on with someone else because they also love Tedros. Good for them. Cuz bisexuality is very much valid.

😁✅

You don't need a label. But don't make them sisters. It's like how Barbie diamond castle handled it. Obviously the two girls were literally dressed in the end in the Lesbian and Bisexual flags, let go of the boys and a chance to live in a Palace so the girls can return to living together in their comfy cottage.🏡👭 Mattel couldn't officially make them canon due to the heteronorm culture at the time, BUT AT LEAST THEY DIDN'T MAKE THEM SISTERS.😂😂 So, it was up to the audience to interpret however they wanted. And when I grew up and got educated, I realized what it was. Romantic love between two women. Aww. 😍

I'm a straight girl who was PISSED at the no-homo-irrelevant-sister-plot in SGE. Because I support the LGBTQ+ community. You can imagine the outrage you will receive from the LGBTQ+ community.

Please don't queerbait in 2022 unless you want to be cancelled or called out. And then no hopes of a sequel due to critisism. If you want to represent an LGBTQ+ plotline, that's fine.🏳️‍🌈 But do it right or don't do it at all! 🌈

#agaphie #agatha x sophie #sge #school for good and evil #school of good and evil #sge movie #school for good and evil movie #agatha #Sophie #Tagatha #Netflix #queerbaiting #lgbtq+#sofia wylie #sophia anne caruso #paul feig #barbie diamond castle #Maleficent #sophie x agatha

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sinnabonka · 4 years

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15x19: So bad, that it’s actually good

Yesterday I had the experience of my life. I couldn’t watch the show (hi, everyone stuck in UTC+ shithole), but I couldn’t sleep either, so I ended up at 3 AM reading my people livestreaming it on Tumblr. This was one hell of a roller coaster, given the absurdity of the plot and the weakest writing in this season.

(I don’t mean the excellent and ironical and powerful message to the fandom, we’ll get there)

I was aware beforehand what I was getting, so no major disappointment regarding not seeing Cas back this week. Also, it kinda was my call, that he’ll be back in the final final.

The Ultimate Happy End, the biggest win of Dean Winchester. Chuck’s book ended, and Cas is not in Chuck’s book.

Was it bad? Yes, it was. Did I enjoy it? Hell yeah, I did.

Everyone on Tumblr already gave their two cents of hatred regarding the writing, the montage, the solemn aim of this episode (spoiler alert: to please the general audience and bronlies), and I will give mine, too. Watcha say?

It was so bad.

I didn’t believe it was the same show as the rest of Season 15. It was like rereading the fanfic my stupid 13 y.o. self wrote after like half a season and no skill or whatever. Full OOC, everyone. Learn what not to do.

I am so happy I didn’t watch ep 18 and 19 in one night. Could you imagine? That would be like getting kicked in the balls after a pretty good blowjob or something. Idk, but I can imagine.

It was lazy, it was just connecting two dots in the shortest way possible, although, leaving dozens of gaps! How, in the name of God, did they manage it?

Why Chuck could bring Lucifer back, but Jack didn’t pull Cas out of the empty before evaporating?

Why Sam has no fucks to give about Eileen?

How did Michael miss the whole thing of Jack gaining powers, don’t angels, like, have a nose for such things?

What battle is he talking about? It’s was a single stab!

It’s all just so easy, so short sighted. God is bad, let’s defeat God. Lucifer is bad, too, let him do bad, again. Michael is petty, and with Adam gone he’s back to his tropes being daddy’s boy, let him not being appreciated one more time and lets kill him off, too. I mean, my speculations on this ep were stronger.

Let’s make our characters retell the villain what was happening off screen. Let’s put some direct call backs to the previous episode, but make it feel like a grain of sand in the eye. Let’s give Dean a miracle, just for Miracle to be yanked away from his hands a moment later (parallels to Cas, anyone?).

Let’s pretend there’s no Eileen, there’s no Cas, let’s pretend they don’t matter! Let’s pretend “Just us” is a happy end. Let’s have two bros driving in sunset, because after all those years and all their losses, that’s the only thing that matters. “To everyone we’ve lost along the way”, my ass.

(Totally following my call in here, though, I hate being right)

It was everything I’ve hated about the show back in 2013 when I left. And it was everything this show is not now, which I am so thankful for, and why I am back.

All those sloppy plot decisions, episodes with no logic, awkward and ridiculous montage, “only bro” dynamics, bending and totally ignoring the rules of the universe. The episodes with Lucifer, too, for crying out loud.

Forced happiness, fake smiles, a lingering touch, close up at the beer bottles. It’s just them, the Winchesters, and the whole world can go fuck itself, as long as they get to drive their Impala to the end of the world and back.

This is something Chuck would love to be their ending. You see what I’m doing here? This episode - it’s Chuck’s book, it’s the bad ending Becky’s been talking about: all action and no Cas. In other words, not good.

So, what’s good about it then?

In this episode we hear “the old Supernatural” talking through the words of Chuck and “the new Supernatural” answering, with Dean’s and Sam’s help:

Chuck: “What did you do?”

Dean: “We won.”

Chuck: “So this is how it ends?”

We won. The Author (TM) is defeated.

Chuck: “For the fist time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me? Dying of hand of Sam and Dean Winchesters. It’s kinda glorious?”

Chuck - the old Supernatural - wants the story to end this way. With killing God, with this bittersweet aftertaste, because Cas says all those beautiful words, but Dean still feeds off his anger and kills. Typical Chuck, right?

But, no! Not this time!

Dean: “See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.”

Chuck: “What kind of ending is this?”

Sam: “His power. You sure it won’t come back?”

Jack: “It’s not his power anymore.”

It’s not their call! Writers tried to control the narrative so hard, but just kept circling around, killing one of the brothers just to bring him back. This time, there’s another ending.

Dean: “It’s the ending where you grow old. You get sick. And you just die”

Sam: “And no one cares. And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.”

Because that, my people, is the destiny of Supernatural if it ends this way. It’s the ending of “Supernatural” by Chuck Shurley. If it is the story of two brothers hunting evil for fifteen years and finding themselves back in the place they begun in, what’s the point? Yes, we love the characters, but the story is empty.

Everyone is going to forget about it before the final credits end. And the writers are well aware of it.

Quoting myself, If we keep taking the same route - we end up in the same place. How many seasons ended with Winchesters together, just the two of them? You’ll find one, that’s for sure. There’s no novelty in that ending.

(And Bobo didn’t provoke The Ultimate Shitstorm of 11/5/2020 for nothing!)

The episode 20 will be something Supernatural will be well remembered by. It will be a game changer!

I’ve written here about the change of the philosophy of the show (point 6). I’ll be a bit of a Chuck myself and put my own quote here once again:

The message the show wants to give the world has changed. From “it’s all about the journey, about saving people, killing things, no one ever gets what they deserve”, the philosophy has changed drastically toward the “good things do happen, you deserve to be saved, to be loved”.

And this, my people, is what we are getting in the next episode. Because Chuck’s story was about killing your brother, killing your son, one apocalypse after another, Lucifer, Michael, all that shit.

But Dean’s and Sam’s is not. And in their book, there’s Cas, there’s Eileen, and everyone they didn’t lost along the way.

So, brothers driving in sunset? Not the end, but the beginning of their own story.

“Supernatural” indeed ended tonight. But our story didn’t.

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moxfirefly · 3 years

Text

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #tmnt Leonardo x fem reader #leonardo #Leo #leonardo x reader #leo x reader #leonardo tmnt #leo tmnt #ns*w #oneshot #evil!Leo #dark!Leo

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elareine · 3 years

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If you're still doing prompts and it isn't too greedy to ask for more, maybe one where Jason saves Dick from tarantula before she can... You know. If I have the Timelines correct no one knows Jasons back at that point so he was just stopping in to check out Dick seeing as Bruce would probably call him in to help against the knew player?

Not greedy at all! I'm just slow lol

I should note that I haven’t read that series and have only looked up the plot and the relevant scene. Sorry for any inaccuracies.

Warning: Sexual assault.

Dick has a stalker.

Normally, that would be of no concern to Jason. He’s only here to check on his so-called brother—who didn’t look for him, who didn’t kill for him, who didn’t even miss him—and evaluate him as a threat to his campaign in Gotham. Turns out, Dick’s not much of one right now.

From the outside, it’s easy to see what’s going on. Jason’s connections to villain circles in Blüdhaven are still fledgling, but good enough. (He ignores the voice that tells him he’d once rather have died than become part of something like a villain circle. He’s not. This is all part of a plan.) In fact, Jason almost admires Blockbuster’s campaign against Nightwing. Very neat, very diabolic, very… personal. It’s everything Jason himself is planning.

The added advantage is that Dick is unlikely to be of any use to Bruce if the Bat decides to call in reinforcements.

Still, the stalker is… a lot, following Dick, creeping on him, obsessing. She isn’t part of Blockbuster’s plan, not anymore. Jason suspected that for a while, but considering she just shot Blockbuster, he’s pretty sure his hypothesis is correct.

The thing is: Dick stepped aside and let her.

Jason doesn’t know how he feels about that.

On the one hand… this is a Bat breaking their code, right? It’s what he wants. To show them that some people cannot be allowed to live, not if there is no way to stop them from doing their evil work. As Blockbuster said: “Loved one by loved one, innocent by innocent... it’ll never stop. I’m never going to stop. I can keep this up forever.” Bastard deserved to die. The Bats need to see that, and Jason should be satisfied that, in this case, someone else did the job for him.

Watching how Dick stumbles onto the rooftop, crying, looking utterly shattered as the rain beats down on him, Jason can’t feel anything even close to that.

Just as he’s about to turn away and leave Dick to it, the stalker also enters the rooftop. She seems to be comforting Dick, but Jason is… uncomfortable enough, old instincts rearing up, that he stays and watches as she straddles Dick and starts to work on his clothes.

Through the enhanced mics in his helmet, Jason hears Dick tell her: “Stop.” She doesn’t.

Oh, hell no. Not on his watch.

Jason pulls his gun—then reconsiders. Dick already had one woman die before him by that method today, and one man, evil as that one may have been. So he launches a grapple instead.

The stalker is disposed of quickly and silently. She never sees it coming, more the pity.

That leaves Dick lying on the rooftop, staring at Jason with unseeing eyes.

Jason should leave. He doesn’t have any business being here. Dick can take care of himself, right? He always has. Jason took care of the threat. It’ll be fine.

“Come on, Nightwing,” he says gruffly. “Let’s get you home.”

Dick doesn’t resist when Jason pulls him up by the shoulders—can’t seem to bring himself to care—and Jason wants to shoot that woman all over again because how could she.

“It’ll be okay,” he can’t help adding, pulling Dick’s arm around him and half-carrying him toward the ledge so they can get down to the ground and toward Jason’s car. “I got you.”

And, God fucking dammit, he has.

#elareine writes #jason todd #dick grayson #birthday week askbox cleansing #scheduled post

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onelovewonderwoman · 3 years

Text

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different.

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held.

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her.

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue.

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all.

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them.

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

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

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day.

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

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The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation.

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice.

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment.

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him.

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.”

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers.

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next.

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him.

#x-men #x-men first class #x-men days of future past #x-men apocalypse #x-men dark phoenix #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier imagine #charles xavier one-shot #x-men imagine #x-men one-shot #charles xavier #erik lensherr #raven #mystique #sean #angel #hank mccoy #james mcavoy #michael fassbender

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stina-is-a-punk-rocker · 3 years

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‘flowers in the attic’ by v. c. andrews: the weird, the wonderful, and the what-the-fuck

tw: child abuse, rape, incest- just fifty shades of fucked-up, and then some

Man, my parents’ generation grew up with some fucked-up books.

Here’s the thing: I like fucked-up. I filter out nothing on Ao3. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat is a siren’s song.

Flowers in the Attic is, all things considered, a goldmine.

It’s got its faults, sure- the prose is unnecessarily, for lack of a better word, flowery; if I had to read another ‘good-golly day’ with my own two eyes, I’d be compelled to commit arson; the whole he-raped-me-but-I-love-him-so-it-doesn’t-count sits very, very wrong with me; not to mention, why do all these fucked-up dudes have to be named Chris? Christopher Dollanganger, Christian Grey, Chris Brown… Chris Bang, you’re our only hope.

But if it makes me a sinner to adore this book, then maybe I don’t want heaven.

While certain character depictions do come off icky, there is a certain charm to Cathy and Chris, forced to grow up far too much far too quick; melancholy Cory, with his sad songs and poetic death (he died of the cold! But no! His dear mother slowly poisoned him!); Carrie, growing weaker without her other half; the beautiful mother, so blinded by greed she plots to kill her own children; Malcolm Foxworth, omnipotent and a candidate for Father of the Year (not); and where would any gothic horror be without a cruel, evangelical matron?

I’ll admit the writing did throw me off, at times. Melodrama is great, don’t get me wrong.

I’m talking about the Lorde album. In writing, it just makes me want to hurl.

But there’s a limit to florid writing, and while Andrews toed the line, she never crossed it. Flowers in the Attic just reels you back in, and for that, you can thank the plot.

The plot! Where do I begin?

… No, seriously, where the fuck do I begin?

I suppose I could start at good ole Daddy Dollanganger, that man who can do no wrong, except maybe eloping, marrying, and subsequently impregnating his half-niece. But incest, as this book will have us believe, is the least of all evils to happen.

Dollanganger, Sr. dies, leaves wife destitute with four small children; Dame Dollanganger whisks them all away to her parents; her parents are religious zealots who have disowned her for fornicating with a family member; the children are hidden away in an attic from the outside world for three (two and a half???) years; shenanigans of the whipping, mother-remarrying-and-ignoring-her-children, brotherfucking variety ensue; one of the kids fucking dies because he’s fucking poisoned by his own fucking mother; and then, in a slightly anticlimactic turn of events, they escape.

Blond brother-sister pairs in books get a bad rep. Game of Thrones, The Secret History, and now this. You guys just can’t catch a break.

Jokes aside, the way Corrine Dollanganger (Foxworth? Whatever the fuck her second husband’s last name was? It’s been an hour since I read the book, and I’ve already forgotten his name. I’m calling him Burt) went from a loving mother to a neglectful, cold, money-hungry woman was written beautifully, as was Cathy’s (and Chris’s) gradual undertaking of parental duties they were far too young to shoulder. The twins seeing Cathy and Chris as their actual parents broke my heart, and Corrine’s indifference to it all only broke me more. The gradual loss of the fear of God and authority was, uh, neat, I guess.

I wish Andrews went further with the schoolroom plot, although I admit I can’t see where she could’ve gone with it, either. I just wish she’d gone somewhere further.

About the demerits; about Cathy and Chris escaping from their prison that one time to go swimming or whatever serving no purpose to the plot that I could really see. About the gaudy language… yeah, Cathy, you Dresden dolls are tragically beautiful, ill-used angels, we got the gist the first ten times. And Cathy being somehow simultaneously naïve and incredibly mature did come off a bit :/.

All this considered, and all this to say: I’m definitely reading Petals on the Wind next.

#flowers in the attic #dollanganger series #v.c. andrews #book review #books #cathy dollanganger #chris dollanganger #today on what the fuck did i just read

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slashersgostabbystabstab · 3 years

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Life in the Shadows (Michael Myers x Reader)

I know I never really got back into writing because I never really got back the motivation after certain things happened. But hey, I started this fic who knows when ago and actually got the motivation to finish it. Hopefully it’s good, I kinda just skimmed thorugh it because I have a hard time reading my own writings and like I said, a good portion of this was written a good while ago and the rest is what I wrote recently. Anyways, have some Michael Myers

Plot: Michael Myers has his eye set on a person he met during his time at Smith’s Grove. Takes place after the second Halloween movie, with a fewe things changed to fit the narrative.

Word Count: 4,866

Warnings: Not much really, mentions of n*dity but nothing explicit. The usual stalking from Michael, mentions of killing obviously. Loomis being Loomis.

The face of Halloween was now nothing more than a white veneer, a haunting sight to any that lay eyes upon it.

Fifteen years ago, not very many felt the terror they started to feel just a week ago. Fifteen years ago, it was nothing but a young boy and his deceased sister. Fifteen years ago, nobody would have expected such a Halloween.

“Thirteen murders in two days. On Halloween night, twenty-one year old Michael Myers escaped from Smiths Grove Sanitarium before stealing from a local hardware store in quiet Haddonfield.”

Michael Myers, that was the name that escaped so many fifteen years ago but ceased soon after when nobody no longer cared.

“At just six years old Michael Myers murdered his elder sister Judith Myers in cold blood, his lust for blood growing the following fifteen years. This past Halloween, only a single of the escapee’s victims survived the attack. Seventeen year old Laurie Strode remains in Haddonfield Memorial Hospital, nearly recovered from the physical and emotional trauma the so-called ‘Boogeyman’ inflicted on her.”

And even this time, their fear grew into a void once a secret was revealed to the public. Nobody feared the Boogeyman; what was there to worry about when they were not who he was after?

“After having survived the home invasion, Strode had to endure yet another attack from the masked fiend who followed her to the hospital the same night. Whilst there, Myers murdered nine people in the hospital, adding on to the previous four. In the end, Strode survived the massacre when Myers’ psychologist arrived to shoot him down and burn him in the hospital’s oxygen room.”

Word spread around. Word that there was another member in the Myers’ family, that only she was the one the murderer was after.

“But in the end, no charred body was recovered.”

Little had the people known, the Shape had his eye on more than one.

“Only a week has gone by but Haddonfield still asks, what could have happened to this malicious hunter?”

Void-like eyes stared through the open window, standing in place with hands laying at each side. Heavy breathing was heard behind the mask, only coming near would allow people to hear such breaths.

Eyes cared not for those that sat on the other side of the glass, sitting on their couch ever so…vulnerable.

Oblivious.

Helpless.

Naive.

The shape stood in place, eyes staring into the television set in front of them. On it, the picture of a young blonde, the picture taken after the second attack.

Head soon turned before its body followed, calmly striding down a self-made path through the backyard of these unknowing residents who never realized there was someone watching their every move for more than a few minutes.

The streets of Orange Grove Avenue was nothing but an empty street, nobody in sight unless it was very necessary to go out. Even without the lack of fear, most preferred that their children would remain at home. Adults thought the same for themselves, thoughts plagued with the idea of accidentally coming across a bloody sight that would end with them as a murdered witness.

Through hedges and trees strolled the figure, never noticed by those who peeked through their closed curtains. The voids of his mask stared straight ahead, eventually looking to the side when their head finally turned.

From behind a tree, the shape stalked the source from whence a sound was heard.

A door opened to reveal another shape, one whose hand tightly clutched onto a worn out satchel before she gently set it on the ground. Hand now reached into the pocket of her jacket, making sure that nothing was forgotten back inside her home, nodding in satisfaction once she pulled out her keys.

The shape stood in the distance, keeping a calm yet very attentive stance as he concealed himself with a tree across the street from the home he watched. He saw the person fumble a bit with her pocket, shaking soon ceasing before she lifted her head ever so slowly.

Eyes glanced to the left and then the right, head now being the one to move while an uneasy feeling overcame her. A deep feeling of trepidation soon hit when her eyes landed on the tree standing in the distance, half of a man’s body revealed with a face so pale it looked unreal in her perspective.

Once again, a shock came when she felt a vibration and heard a jingle, making her look down at her jacket where her phone rang.

She pulled out the phone before answering it, placing it against her ear while looking back up at the tree. Nothing nor anybody stood there, leaving that uneasy feeling while she now shut and locked the door to then make her way to her car.

Before actually starting it, she turned to look behind, seeing nothing again. So, with her phone on its holder, she started the car and drove away, never realizing that darkened eyes were watching from a distance.

_____________

In an isolated property where only light hit stood the shape, behind a fence that no longer proved to serve its purpose. Through it he watched an empty field with nothing but tables for those cursed inside to sit whenever breaks were given. Beyond this empty space was the large building that could have never contained him.

He walked alongside the fence, turning to the right when he reached the building’s other perimeter. From his location, he saw her again.

This time, the person wore a badge on her jacket as she got out of her car. With her satchel once again in her hand, she locked the car before making her way through the parking lot until reaching the sidewalk that would lead her to the front entrance of the building. Before continuing, however, she paused her walking to look at the sign reading a damaged “Smith’s Grove Sanitarium”. With a shake of her head, she followed the path before finally walking into the building.

Behind some bushes, the shape watched it all until the person was no more behind darkened glass. He stood there, breaths now soft as she allowed the sound of his heart pumping hard with adrenaline. It was always said that the shape felt nothing, he was but a vessel containing evil alone. But somehow, there was something in him that not even the “best” of psychologists could discover in such a being.

“Looking into those eyes alone is dangerous enough.”

“Why is that?”

“They are the devil’s eyes. There is nothing but evil behind them.”

Such words were enough to make one turn, though the sound of voices coming from outside were also sufficient.

In a room deep inside the corridors of Smith’s Grove was a bed. To the surprise of many it proved to be one of the tidiest beds ever; sheets never undone save for a few wrinkles every now and then.

On the bed sat the patient not many dared near, the story of what he did years back sending chills down the staff’s spines.

“D…devil’s eyes? Dr. Loomis, you can’t be serious. I’ve heard all kinds of things from you, but this is new.”

From the bed, the patient listened ever so attentively, yet he did so without a care in the world. Eyes stared into the nothingness of the white wall before him while his body remained still and hunched over.

The jingling of keys sounded outside of the room, the sound loud enough to echo through the ever so silent hallways of the sanitarium. Soon enough the creaking of the room’s door followed; in the doorway stood two figures who silently peered inside.

One remained on the spot while the other immediately strode in without a care, ignoring the slight worry he had inside. A worry not about him necessarily, but more like the one he had for others such as the person who had accompanied him, and the ones who ran the sanitarium without any concern.

“Michael.” The man now stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the patient sitting on the bed.

The patient never bothered to look any other way, eyes fixated on the wall . Almost as if he wasn’t seeing it…instead, looking past it.

Even then, the man knew that he was aware of his guests.

“Maybe you should leave.”

“Excuse me?” the doctor turned to the doorway, still keeping his distance from the patient who, in the slightest and unnoticable bit, turned his head to the side.

“I’m just saying, I’ve seen that Michael doesn’t exactly…” the other person took a step inside, glancing over at the patient. “React when you’re around.”

“I am the only one in this sanitarium who can approach Michael without being injured.” Loomis now stepped towards her, once again not realizing that the patient’s head had turned even more. “I am his doctor and you are nothing but a temporary transfer.”

“I know-”

“You are in no place to be telling me what to do with Myers.” Loomis sternly spoke, then reaching a hand out to the other individual who turned away with a sigh. “Where are the others?”

“They’re on their way.” she spoke as she handed a clipboard over to the psychiatrist that immediately looked over the papers in hand.

“Once they’re here, you may excuse yourself.”

“What?”

“Did I stutter?” Loomis’ frown deepened.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Is that so?”

“My purpose is to examine Michael because your incompetent ass can’t do so.”

Now this had noticeably riled up Loomis who had unconsciously turned his back on his patient, the latter still ever so slightly paying attention to the conversation.

“I know you don’t like working with me Loomis, I learned that along the way. I point out the reality while you continue to insist on foolish tales only a man like you can spin.” the person spat at the elderly man who could not believe the way he was being spoken to. “My tasks threaten your job, even if I only do the medical work. A man like you deserves and could land a spot in an institution such as this one with your lunatic rambles. So either step down and let me do my job, or I’ll have a chat of my own with the administration.”

Loomis could only eye this…unfortunate individual. Examining the as if he were examining a patient of his, looking for any flaws he could spur into a tale of demons and evil. To him, this temporary associate was no more than a burden in between him and Michael. Him and the Devil himself, waiting to unleash hell.

He began making his way out of the room, but not before he glanced back at Michael who had clearly been staring at the white of his room’s walls this entire time. Not a single care or thought in the world.

“I’ll have you packing your things before you even know it.” he promised while slamming the clipboard onto the nurse’s chest, lips near her ear as she stepped away from him, realizing that the other staff had come by. For the first time since Michael had been incarcerated, Loomis didn’t bother to remain in the room.

“Alright Mikey,” one of the two guards that arrived spoke out. “You know how this goes.”

The apparent leader of the pair had handcuffs ready, these being placed on Michael’s wrists as he made it seem like he still stared at the wall.

Michael ignored every word and action that came from the guards, eyes instead focused on the staff member who was still in the room. Brown locks concealed his dark gaze, eyes following her fingers that reached into the pocket of her uniform trousers. From it, a pen was pulled out.

Pen and paper now connected as the nurse wrote notes, or perhaps random scribbles due to her not being much to report at the moment.

It was a rather funny pen. A fountain pen is what it was. Somewhat girthy, made out of cheap plastic. Pink.

One of the only pieces of color Michael ever really saw inside the sanatorium, the only other times being when Loomis conducted certain examinations or when Michael was fed.

Black ink spilled from the pen and onto the paper, nothing more than a tool to further his years in this building. Black ink that came from this funny little pen, providing the only tint of life in the darkness of these white walls that caged Michael.

Black ink…spilling…merging with the warm crimson from inside the skin. It was almost lovely, the thought of a brightly colored tool, impaling the soft skin of this particular caretaker.

“You ready, doc?”

“It’s nurse.” Michael’s staring was interrupted as he felt hands grab onto his arms, hoisting him up from the bed before he nearly came face to face with his nurse. “And yes, we can take him now. Loomis should be waiting for us, if he hasn’t decided to throw a fit in his office.”

“You and the old guy don’t care much for each other, huh?” a guard spoke up as she followed behind the nurse, Michael sandwiched between the men who led him through the halls.

“I don’t care for any so-called psychologist who runs his mouth like a madman. I don’t think he’s qualified to be a psychologist.”

“Uh huh.” one of the guards replied, the words not having gone through his head properly, as he was another one of the many members who worked without giving a damn about the environment they surrounded themselves in.

“Loomis is a bitch, to put it simple.” the nurse rolled her eyes, hearing the jingling of keys that came from the guards as well as the cuffs that contained Michael. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing, can’t properly care for a patient. I don’t know how he even takes care of himself.”

No more words came from any of the staff as her and Michael’s footsteps echoed through the empty hallways she walked through. Were it not for the continuous jingling, one could have even come to hear Michael’s breaths.

“What now?”

“Michael takes a seat, and we wait for Loomis. You two can leave once he’s here, unless he instructs otherwise.” the nurse scanned the empty room where only a metallic table and two chairs sat in the middle. Behind one of the chairs was a large mirror, one that obviously served for watching whatever interaction occurred inside. It only showed how not-so credible Loomis’ objections were.

“Actually,” a new voice sounded, making everyone but Michael look to the open door, for another nurse had come by. “I will be staying in your place for a moment. You’re needed elsewhere.”

“Where, exactly? I can’t leave Michael alone with a nurse he’s not used to seeing.”

“I doubt he’ll care much about the change.” this other nurse stated as she made her way into the room, reaching out to grab the clipboard. “The higher ups just want to have a quick conversation.”

“It’s because of Loomis, isn’t it? That bastard.”

“Just deal with it quickly, I have other patients that actually need attending.”

“Alright, just…”

Michael had been seated in the chair opposite from the mirror on the wall, cuffed hands forcibly placed on the table in front of him as his head remained lowered.

“Just treat him right. Please.”

“Sure thing.” the nurse uttered, watching the other walk out of the room.

“What, is someone catching feelings for little ol’ Mikey?” one of the guards snickered once she was out of sight, the two guards chuckling among themselves while the remaining nurse rolled her eyes.

“Hope not, could send her back to the hospital she came from. Even then, dunno what anyone would see in a crazy like Myers.”

And all the while the staff paid no mind to the patient, Michael had actually turned his head.

Eyes looked to the empty and open doorway, almost as if waiting for his nurse to return.

With eyes fixated on the building, the shape now watched as the main doors opened once more. From the doors came the nurse, not having spent much time inside. If she had spent this little in the building on a night she were meant to work, something had changed.

He watched from a distance, taking notice of the lack of Smith’s Grove badge. He didn’t have to eavesdrop on any conversation to know what had gone on.

There was no intention of hiding himself this time, but he also didn’t care if his presence was made known. All that mattered was her, watching every move as she trudged down the sidewalk with her satchel tightly grasped into.

Despite the distance between the two, it was almost as if this nurse- former nurse could feel him breathing right behind her neck.

She ceased her walking, nails now digging into her bag as she scanned her surroundings, feeling eyes on her…

Beyond the yards of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, beyond the fence surrounding the perimeter, her eyes met with the darkest eyes, ever so slightly shaded from the light. Or at least, that was what her eyes saw, somehow being able to make out…

“The Devil’s Eyes.” he read her lips murmur, spoken in complete disbelief.

He remained in place, body as stiff as ever as he only…examined, just like she did to him many times.

Was it a figment of her imagination? Was Michael Myers, the now so-called Boogeyman, really just…watching?

Whatever the answer, he saw her hurriedly threading to the parking lot, immediately finding her vehicle which she hopped into after struggling to find her keys. Once inside, she wasted no more time, her next destination being home.

_____________

She wasn’t up to very much. She was merely…sitting.

Eating.

Thinking.

Thinking more than him no doubt, especially as he stood by the window that led into the brightly lit kitchen. Eyes stared into the glass, watching the individual who did nothing but sit with a slice of bread in hand. In the other, a rather large kitchen knife, the first one that she had pulled out from her knife block.

She was clearly unbothered by things, but there was still a sort of affliction present on her features.

He watched her bite into the piece of bread she had cut for herself, ever so slowly chewing the bit. her lips, moisturized with a lick of her lips that rid of all the tiny crumbs that even he was able to perceive from the distance he stood at.

He never blinked, merely watched with an intensity that brought a chill down her spine.

Her eyes widened at the strange feeling of being watched, whipping her head around as she searched for a possible answer. But just like every other time, there was nothing or nobody that could have been keeping an eye on her.

“I’m going insane…” she mumbled to herself, setting down her piece of bread before pushing her seat out to stand and approach the kitchen sink. In her hand was the knife, this being washed up immediately, ever so carefully.

It gleamed under the kitchen’s light, almost making a sound as if it were a sword drawn from its scabbard.

“This was all it took.”

A kitchen knife was all it took to take the many lives of many innocents. A kitchen knife that glinted under almost anything. A kitchen knife that reflected dark pools of that made one stare into oblivion.

Once again, she spun around, this time in a panic. Through the knife she had seen the white veneer, staring right back at her with such vehemence. But alas, just like every time, nothing stood at the window, it was clearly only a figment of her imagination. Nothing but an apparition.

“I’ve heard wondrous things about you.”

“Oh, I doubt that. I’m just like any other nurse. I’m sure anyone else could do this job.”

“You’re too humble. I’ve heard about your handling of Billy and, it’s impressed me and other nurses.”

Smith’s Grove Sanitarium, you weren’t sure why an institution such as this one specifically requested someone with your expertise. Someone apparently “perfectly skilled” as a nurse, whatever that meant. It was one of the staff members who had desired a nurse such as yourself, a nurse who would be personally assigned to Michael Audrey Myers.

“And…what is so, special, about this patient?”

“If I’m being honest, I’m not entirely sure.” your new but temporary supervisor, Dr. Wynn, admitted as he walked you down the corridors of the sanitarium. “Myers’ primary psychologist, Dr. Samuel Loomis, is particularly…wary.”

“Of his own patient? I mean, I can understand but, aren’t patients like Michael restrained?”

“That’s not it. Samuel apparently sees something in Michael. Believes there is no redeeming, that Michael is only…waiting.”

“For…?”

“I don’t know, Samuel’s lectures tend to disturb me and some of the other staff at times. We don’t always pay much attention to his rants.” the man gave a shrug, turning on his heel as he and you made it to a door that was marked with a sign reading “M. MYERS”. “We worry that because of this apprehension, that he doesn’t properly care for Michael. We can’t exactly have a patient pass due to lack of care.”

“Of course.”

“You see,” he held his breath for a moment, soon enough releasing it. “Samuel doesn’t view Michael as a human being. Has made many suggestions already, but we don’t see Michael posing as the threat he believes he is.”

You nodded at these words, having seen similar stories as you grew up.

“Anyways, I’d formally like to introduce you to Michael.”

The white door disappeared from your view after being unlocked and opened, revealing a young male who was merely…sitting.

“Michael, I’d like you to meet your new, personal nurse…”

Words became nothing as your eyes landed on this man who sat at the edge of his bed, back curved as he leaned and looked forwards. Thick, chocolate curls hid the eyes that peered at the empty wall, almost as if they examined every inch of paint.

Hands were placed on his knees as the tips of his fingers dug into the cloth of his ivory pants. He seemed so tense, yet so calm somehow. There was no change in his staring as he never lifted his gaze, only listening to the words that spewed from the staff’s lips.

“Every day from now on, you will be seeing her. She is here for your every need.”

You snapped back to your senses after feeling a hand clasp onto your shoulder, making you turn to Dr. Wynn who gave you a comforting smile.

“Right,” you offered a minimal smile before turning back to Michael who had still not moved. Not a single bit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Michael. I look forward to helping you as best as I can.”

“I’ll make sure to have you introduced to Samuel after I chat with you in my office.”

“Sounds good.” you slightly nodded, giving Michael one last look before finally stepping out of the room. “See you soon.”

Dr. Wynn followed suit, closing the door the moment he had stepped out as well. Had he taken even the quickest peek into the miniature window that was on the door, he would have noticed the glance Michael had given you.

Nobody ever noticed these small things. Not even you.

Coming back to reality, she shook her head just a bit. Perhaps it was the sleep that was getting to her.

Putting out of mind the slight scare she had just experienced, she turned her attention back to the empty kitchen sink. There were no more dishes, all wet and clean on the drying rack. All but…the kitchen knife.

Had she misplaced it? No, how could she have so easily lost a knife while lost in her own thoughts?

“Weird,” she spoke to herself, now realizing that the large knife lay at the end of the counter. “I don’t remember leaving it there.”

All the doors and windows were locked, she made sure to check every single thing more than once if there really was a danger lurking around. Perhaps she did leave the knife at the end of the counter, perhaps it was during her slight moment of remembering.

He saw her shake her head, putting aside her thoughts and worries after taking the knife and placing it inside its appropriate spot. Soon after, she removed her top and made her way out of the kitchen, the shape following suit as best as he could-

-inside the home.

After the top was removed, her jeans were next once she was in the bathroom of her house.

A heat formed in the room as she turned the knob of her shower, warm water raining over the empty floor of the bathtub. The sound of the water hitting the floor sufficed in hiding his footsteps, his deep breathing.

He easily went unnoticed, dark eyes fixated on the woman as she removed the rest of her clothing. Eyes admired every curve of her now bare body, taking notes of every bit and piece of skin. So soft. So warm. So…exposed and unguarded.

There was nothing more than glass doors that divided him and her; a pair of doors being the only thing standing between him and his prey. His head became tilted at the sound of her voice, a song from another time escaping her lips as she sang to herself, never realizing that she had an uninvited audience.

Her body in full view through the glass, only slightly distorted by the glass’ design.

His fists clenched as he was filled with an impulse, an unwavering ardor as he studied her every move.

She ran her hands over her body, almost as if caressing herself, massaging her own knots out. Hands dragged themselves over her thighs, fingers digging into them as she squeezed to provide comfort and relief. The warm, hot water almost provided a feeling of…safety.

A safety that could be interrupted at any moment by anything.

Her fingers were entangled in her locks of hair, soap threatening to fall into her eyes that she immediately shut.

It was almost as if he sensed this, stepping towards the glass doors as his heavy breaths created a foggy effect, breathing almost becoming desperate at the proximity between the two figures. His own clothed skin, so near her nude form; almost touching. Sultry flesh that he had all to himself. Flesh who’s scent he inhaled deeply, registering the smell into his system.

It was just the two of them, and that was how he desired it.

The shower knob was soon turned as the water turned off, the only sound in the entire house being the droplets from her hair and chin dripping onto the wet flooring. Once she wiped the remaining water from her face, she properly opened her eyes to look into the emptiness of her bathroom. The scathing water had fogged up all the glass inside the bathroom, hiding the fading imprint of large hands that had been placed on the glass doors.

_____________

Hours had gone by as he remained inside the house, haunting the halls like a phantom with no trace. It was almost ridiculous, foolish even, that the man was not once noticed.

Not even as he stood at her bedside.

A slumber befell the woman not too long after she lay in bed. Once changed into a set of comfortable nightwear, she promptly brought her exhausted form into bed. In front of her was a television, still powered on after hours of watching the leftover Halloween specials.

Her body was curled up against her pillow, eyes softly shut as her chest moved with every breath.

The vulnerability present was ever so tantalizing.

Large, strong hands were slowly lifted, inching closer and closer to the woman’s unsuspecting figure. His hands moved on impulse, wanting to latch onto her neck. Wanting to squeeze her throat awake. Wanting to have her eyes shoot open as she reacted too late. Wanting to have the life drained out of her body with every squeeze.

How quick and easy it would have been to overpower her. Suffocate her. Slice her. Thrust her own gleaming blade into her chest to spill the crimson liquid he had come to see so often.

“Michael…”

His breathing deepened even more at the sound of his name, lips breathing out the name of the Devil himself without realizing the consequence. Out of instinct, almost, one of his large hands brought itself onto her exposed leg, stroking the skin with an unexpected gentleness.

Immediately removing his hand, his head gave one final tilt before he took his time spinning around. His eyes landed on the television set that only presented its viewers with nothing but static.

Something had told him it was best to switch it off before officially making his way out.

#halloween #halloween 1978 #halloween 2018 #michael myers #michael myers x reader #killer x reader

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Associates - Part 2 - ao3, pt 1

“What’s this I hear about you getting up in Nie Huaisang’s face?” Jiang Cheng demanded the instant Wei Wuxian reached the front door of the inn. The tone was so familiar, so usual for him – irritated yet fond despite himself – that it took a moment for Wei Wuxian to realize that the question wasn’t anything like what he was expecting.

Not least of all because he wasn’t expecting Jiang Cheng to be there in the first place.

“What?” he said blankly, and then – “Wait, did you not put it together yet? He’s the one that planned the whole thing with Jin Guangyao –”

“Yes, I know that,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “Still, don’t associate with evil? Who the fuck are you to say something like that to anyone, least of all to him?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms in front of himself, his shoulders going up to his ears. “You still think I’m evil, then?”

“No, I think you’re a fucking brat, but also that if you were schemed against then you certainly didn’t make it hard for them to do it,” Jiang Cheng said, crossing his own arms and glaring. “Or was all the arrogance and insulting people and throwing the first punch when they came at you at the Qiongqi Path and throwing arrows at people at the Nightless City and deliberately setting up cultivators to murder each other before jumping off a cliff all things that Jin Guangyao made you do, too?”

Wei Wuxian winced.

“I have other examples,” Jiang Cheng said pointedly. “Anyway, come inside, I’ll buy you some wine, if you call what this stupid inn serves wine.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying here,” Wei Wuxian lied.

“It’s the only inn in a half-day walk,” Jiang Cheng said impatiently. “It’s also about to rain, and you already gave the innkeeper’s son your donkey to take to the stable. Will you come inside already? I’m not going to bite.”

Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be convinced by this faultless logic. “You came about the water demons, too?”

“I don’t think they’re water demons,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “I checked the river, it’s fine, so it must be something similar leaving the same sort of traces…waiter! Service now, if it’s not too much to ask!”

The wine was passable, if barely, but the food served with it was filling in just the right way.

“This seems out of the way for you,” Wei Wuxian commented. He’d been traveling randomly as a rogue cultivator for months and months now, the way he always dreamed of doing, and he spent the entire time wondering why it felt empty; he suspected it was the same reason he turned sharply to look any time he saw white out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t quite willing to admit it out loud yet. If he did, he’d have to face up to the fact that there was nothing stopping him from turning his feet and Lil’ Apple’s hooves back towards Gusu and the Cloud Recesses and Lan Wangji, and if he did that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving again so quickly.

“I heard you were in the area,” Jiang Cheng said, which made Wei Wuxian feel warm inside. “I wanted to yell at you.”

Wei Wuxian burst out laughing.

Jiang Cheng really must have forgiven him, he thought, unable to resist smiling. Jiang Cheng yelled at those he loved and ignored those he hated – it was when Jiang Cheng didn’t look at you that you should worry, and when he looked at you and was silent…that was the worst of all.

“I did,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “Seriously. Nie Huaisang. What were you thinking?”

“Are you saying that what he did wasn’t evil?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“I’m saying I would have done the same thing if it was you or jiejie,” Jiang Cheng said, looking down at his jar of wine. “Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

Wei Wuxian hesitated. If it had been Jiang Cheng that had been poisoned by his own anger, by someone he trusted – betrayed into dying in just the way he’d feared most – and it was possible, wasn’t it? Jiang Cheng had trusted Jin Guangyao - he’d raised Jin Ling alongside him, never suspecting…

“Don’t answer that,” Jiang Cheng said quickly, just as Wei Wuxian said, “I would have.”

Jiang Cheng looked at him, surprised.

“Probably not in the same way,” Wei Wuxian clarified. “I would have avenged you, but I wouldn’t have – he put so many people in danger, what he did, the way he did it. He put Jin Ling in danger.”

“Jin Ling put Jin Ling in danger,” Jiang Cheng said. “As he always does. You have no idea the trouble magnet that brat is. And as for Nie Huaisang…you’re being unfair.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. He’s not like you, the you that you used to be. He’s weak. He’s not good at doing things. He’s not powerful, he’s not a genius; he had to learn everything the hard way…anyway, not everyone’s you, willing to gamble everything on trying to do the ‘right thing’. He had a sect to take care of.”

Just like me, Jiang Cheng didn’t say, but Wei Wuxian heard it anyway. And in the end, all the bravado and recklessness of his last life – it had been the right thing to do, but all he’d won for the Wen sect was another year or so of living in fear before they’d walked willingly to their deaths into the hands of the Jin sect on his behalf. In the end, only A-Yuan had been truly saved, and even that was only because of Lan Wangji’s intervention.

Wei Wuxian didn’t regret his actions, but maybe if he could go back in time, he might’ve done things a little differently. He might’ve been more restrained in his actions, been more cautious, less willing to get into fights, less willing to allow his terrible reputation to spread without bothering to correct it – he might have been a little more thoughtful about all the obligations that so suddenly had settled on his shoulders.

Thought about the ones that had been there all along, invisible.

“And Mo Xuanyu?” Wei Wuxian asked, still unwilling to give up so easily. “Put aside leading us all on a wild goose chase, risking all our lives at the Burial Mounds –”

“Something which brought to light a hidden threat, or did you think Su She would just volunteer himself?”

“Putting that aside, Mo Xuanyu died to bring me back. Is that nothing?”

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng said flatly. “A man’s life is his own. Nie Huaisang might’ve paid someone to tell stories about you, but he didn’t take a knife to Mo Xuanyu’s bones; Mo Xuanyu did that. If you really want to start talking about the subject of indirect blame for other people’s death…”

“Fair point,” Wei Wuxian said begrudgingly. “Fine. Perhaps I was being harsh.”

“You were,” Jiang Cheng agreed. “Not to mention stupid and short-sighted, again. Do you know he’s taken to referring to you by name?”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “So what?”

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but he also put some extra meat in Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “So, he’s been calling you Wei-xiong since the Cloud Recesses, even after you got famous as the Yiling Patriarch, even after you were dead and your name black as coal, and now, now he calls you Wei Wuxian? Because he thinks you hate him? Even if you just wanted to be a jackass, is he really someone you want to make your enemy?”

Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.

He never really wanted anyone as his enemy, not really – excluding maybe Wen Chao, Wang Lingjiao, and Wen Zhuliu, who deserved it – but least of all did he want his enemy to be Nie Huaisang as he last saw him: blank-eyed and tired, older than he should be, the smile on his face as smooth and insincere as anything that Jin Guangyao had ever tried; the dagger in the dark finally brought out to the light.

Anyone who could smile like that after having pulled off a years-long plot that led the entire cultivation world around by the nose –

No, Wei Wuxian did not want Nie Huaisang as his enemy.

“Surely enemy is a strong word for a bit of formality,” he said, but Jiang Cheng gave him a look and he had to admit even to himself that he didn’t believe it. Nie Huaisang was overly intimate with everyone he could be, and he’d never heard of him stepping back after he’d established the closer level; he even called Jin Guangyao san-ge until the very moment of his death. Maybe he still did. “Well, shit.”

“Exactly,” Jiang Cheng said.

“How do you even know about that?” Wei Wuxian asked. It’d only been the three of them at that conversation – him and Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang – and Lan Wangji wasn’t a gossip.

“Nie Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng said promptly, as he’d expected. “He wanted to let me know that there were no hard feelings if I decided to break treaty with him.”

“If you – what?” Wei Wuxian stared at him. “Break treaty? All the trade routes and boundary lines and – and everything, all the connections between the Nie sect and the Jiang sect…why in the world would you ever break treaty? Why would he even suggest that?”

“Because of you, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was there for the whole – you know – when we had it all out at the temple. He knows the whole story, he knows how much I owe you; if you decided to come tell me what you told him in Hanguang-jun’s presence, do not associate with evil –”

“I wouldn’t!” Wei Wuxian protested. He’d been ‘evil’ before, the one who was shunned and rejected by all; he’d never go around riling people up to exclude another the way he’d been excluded.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You wouldn’t do it deliberately, but you also said to his face that you wouldn’t associate with him. Do you know how that sounds? Association is association, even by proxy. He figured we’d make up eventually, and then that’s Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin both against him, since Jin Ling tends to follow my lead and likes you, and of course there’s you and Lan Wangji…”

Leaving only Qinghe Nie out in the cold, alone and isolated.

Do not associate with evil.

Yeah, Wei Wuxian could see the problem. He wouldn’t even have to lead the charge himself the way Jin Guangshan had against him; he would just need to hint at his disapproval, and he had enough sway with enough of the right people that they might change their actions just to please him, and then where would Nie Huaisang be?

Offering not to take it personally when Jiang Cheng turned his back on him even though they’d been friends ever since their days at the Cloud Recesses, apparently.

Wei Wuxian had by this point teamed up enough with the junior troop to have heard the stories from Jin Ling and the others to piece together how the time when he’d been dead must had gone. Nie Huaisang might have relied heavily on his brother’s two sworn brothers to run his sect and keep his position, but he’d always been very friendly with Jiang Cheng, and it’d been his unstinting support (brainless support, the juniors had said on automatic before realizing that they had no idea if it was brainless or not) that had helped Jiang Cheng keep pace with the others, to not get left out.

Yeah, fine. Wei Wuxian was, perhaps, being something of a dick. He got that.

“Are we?” he asked instead of conceding, because ‘sorry’ had always been something he’d needed to build up to. “Going to make up eventually?”

“Of course we are,” Jiang Cheng said. “You literally came back from the dead, and then we got stuck in a temple with a villain that helpfully explained all of our problems to us in the process of nearly killing us. If that’s not a sign from the heavens that we’re going to get over this eventually, what is?”

Wei Wuxian had to give him that one. “All right,” he said. “Good.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, shoulders relaxing a little when Wei Wuxian didn’t rebuff him. “Why are you here, anyway?”

��What do you mean? The water demons – or, well, not water demons –”

“No, I mean, why are you…you know, wandering around everywhere,” Jiang Cheng said. “I would’ve figured you’d be at the Cloud Recesses.”

“I probably will be, eventually,” Wei Wuxian said, admitting it for the first time to himself as well. “But I need some time to stretch my legs, get the wanderlust out. Be without burdens for a little while. And then, when I’m clear about – a lot of things, then I’ll go back to him.”

“I figured as much,” Jiang Cheng said. He looked a little uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something, but was thinking better of it. “Well, you’re always welcome to come by the Lotus Pier. Obviously.”

It wasn’t obvious at all, and Wei Wuxian was so glad to hear it that his heart hurt in his chest.

“I will,” he said, swallowing down his questions about what Jiang Cheng had been about to say. It couldn’t have been that important, anyway. “I will. Promise.”

“Good.”

“Want to tell me about the not-water demons you’ve been investigating?” Wei Wuxian suggested.

Jiang Cheng looked incredibly relieved to have the feelings part of the conversation over with. “Yes, of course,” he said. “I started by checking out the area where they’ve been reporting the disappearances –”

(Much later, Wei Wuxian will ask Jiang Cheng why didn’t you tell me that Lan Zhan was drowning! and Jiang Cheng will say I thought you knew! Wei Wuxian will shout of course I didn’t know and you let him get wrangled up by Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng will say sorry I thought you knew how to take a hint or did you leave your brain behind in the afterlife and Wei Wuxian will seriously consider punching him.

But that was later.)

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #associates

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ct-multifandom · 3 years

Text

Broke: Marc and Nathaniel will get their miraculous in the same episode

Woke: One of them will become a hero to save the other in the Obligatory Ship Episode while the other will get his miraculous another time

Bespoke: Both of their hero episodes will focus on other relationships they have, leaving The Ship Episode for... double akuma >:)

Is this a theory post or is it just What I Would’ve Done? Who knows. Anyways, have an essay.

Marc has gotten little to no screen time since his first appearance. There are even a ton of background characters who have him beat in the screen time department, which is pretty sad considering that he’s supposed to become a member of the major supporting cast. It makes me wonder how they’ll pull off making him a superhero when we know so little about him.

That’s why I like the theory that he’s related to Marinette. I think it would make sense if they have some sort of background that we, the audience, haven’t seen, so she knows him better than the viewers do. He’s the only “new” (Polaroid in the intro) character who she knew before his first appearance, and they were already friends, but they’re not so close that they hang out together or know about each other’s personal lives. I feel like their close-yet-distant dynamic is reminiscent of the typical relationship between cousins, as is Mari’s mentorship of “mini her”. Marc is a clear parallel to Marinette both in appearance and personality, and he looks up to Marinette even though she’s actually also kind of a mess.

They’re setting up this whole “you were a superhero even before you put on the mask” theme, and I just don’t know how they’d rationalize that with only one more token Marc appearance unless he suddenly becomes super plot relevant and supportive in the first half of the episode, so Ladybug recruits him in the second half.

I feel like if they had that background beyond just going to the same school it’d at least make sense why she’d trust him to be a hero, or why she’d see the potential in him. Otherwise it’s just like “I’m gonna help this guy I kinda vaguely know talk to his crush” then randomly, months later, “here, have a miraculous”.

Ok this next part sounds a little salty, so fair warning, but I don’t mean it to be that way. Just observations.

With the “you were already a superhero without the miraculous” thing, I feel a similar way about Nathaniel, not because he only got ten seconds of screentime, but because he got like twenty and spent at least a quarter of it being the bad guy. I’m not saying he’s evil for what he did in Reverser, but they haven’t explicitly followed up on that or shown him any development. Whenever there’s a conflict in the story, he runs away or ignores it, and he doesn’t go out of his way for other people unless everyone else is doing it too. Even in s4 alone, he ran away during Mega Leech, and he didn’t do anything overreactive to “help” Rose in Guiltrip. You could easily say he’s doing the right thing here by arguing that he’s making it easier for Ladybug by not becoming an obstacle or suggesting that he’s aware that Rose doesn’t want the attention she was getting, but since he never says anything, it feels like he’s just apathetic. At this point, I don’t know why Ladybug would choose him to be a superhero personality wise. Maybe the situation will call for it and he’ll be the only choice.

I don’t want this to sound like bashing because I do like him, but... in Reverser when Alix said she’d never leave him behind, I really stopped and wondered if he’d do something like that for her. It feels like everyone else has been steadily growing out of their bad traits across the seasons, yet he’s been exactly the same. I hope his hero episode is a Timebreaker 2.0 scenario so we can see him actively being the supportive friend for once instead of “Alix is his therapist”.

That promotional image with the Magic Charms seems like it’s composed of actual charms from the show now that we’ve seen Rocketear, the blue one. Some people speculate that the last one is for Timebreaker. It looks like it could be, but it’s also not a perfect match. The magenta bead isn’t the right shade, and the lines on the charm don’t really match anything on her costume. Either way I hope she comes back.

You know how every relationship problem the side characters have ends up being a parallel to a problem Adrienette/Ladynoir have? Well there’s something I noticed in the s4 intro that felt familiar.

While all the other Polaroid photos (Kagami, Zoe, and Luka) are nicely arranged between other photos, Marc’s is placed directly on top of Alix. It feels a little too... aggressive? to be meaningless, and maybe I’m reading to much into it, but seeing this felt like foreshadowing to me.

Alix being covered up reminded me of Chat Noir being inadvertently pushed to the side by Ladybug, who is spending more time with Rena Rouge and other allies to the point where Chat is starting to feel like he’s being left out on purpose. If Alix were to get reakumatized, I think the lesson of the day would parallel this problem.

What would happen: as time goes on, Nathaniel starts spending more time with Marc, and doesn’t make enough time for Alix. Nathaniel and Marc don’t even notice when this starts to bother her because they figure she’s friends with everyone so she’ll always have someone to hang out with. This may be true, but Alix misses hanging out one on one with Nath specifically. She doesn’t say anything, though, because she thinks her jealousy is immature and that her hurt feelings are no one’s fault but her own, so there’s no use bringing it up. She quietly puts up with being sidelined as long as she can, but eventually she can’t take it anymore and gets akumatized. If it’s Timebreaker, then maybe she wants to travel back to before the events of Reverser when it was just the two of them.

As I said above, I think a scenario like this would make for a good intro episode for Nath as a superhero. It would force him to be the one to resolve his own problems and help Alix at the same time. New hero episodes show the hero protecting something they care about, so it would make sense for his to be his best friend. He’d learn to consider other people’s feelings more, but the real lesson would be that Alix shouldn’t have been ashamed to talk about being left out. The big problem with Ladynoir is that Chat isn’t telling Ladybug what’s going on, and she doesn’t realize herself, so the problem only gets worse.

Before I move on to completely unrelated stuff, I said in the beginning of this post that I’d prefer if neither Marc nor Nath’s hero episodes were fighting each other. This is because of the Magical Charms. If one fights the other, then then akuma gets a charm and they can’t get akumatized together, which I find way more compelling then them fighting.

An episode like this could call back to their comic where their akuma forms become good. Maybe they could turn on Hawkmoth at the end of the fight as a parallel to the story, or maybe they could be antiheroes the whole time who think they’re like their hero self-inserts, but they’re actually still pretty villainous. I think them working together as akumas would be just the type of higher-level fight that Hawkmoth would create.

Now onto completely unrelated stuff that I want to mention in this post just because

Back to the Magic Charm teaser image, I included a pic of Robustus because that first charm pretty obviously will belong to him. That makes me excited because I love him, but he also reminded me of a possible parallel to major plot points. Most fans agree that there will be some sort of plot twist related to sentimonsters and the peacock miraculous. Ever since its first use on-screen, the show has shown us an incredible amount of detail regarding the peacock miraculous, as well as tons of examples of what sentimonsters are capable of. This is certainly foreshadowing something, because why else establish all these rules?

I’m thinking that Robustus 2.0 will delve into the question of what it means to be human. When Markov was first akumatized, his greatest wish was to be a real boy, but he realized that since he has a humanoid mind and real feelings, it doesn’t matter if he’s not physically human. If it’s revealed that someone we thought was human was secretly a sentimonster, then a repeat of these sentiments could reinforce the idea that they’re still human where it matters.

Last thing, and this is completely baseless, just a shot in the dark for no reason: what if the middle charm on the promo will belong to AJT, the mad scientist we saw in Rocketear? Since the show introduced a new, interesting minor character who isn’t related to any existing characters, she probably got akumatized at some point this season. I say that charm might be hers because the colors remind me of the yellow and green shades of her t-rexes.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #marc anciel #nathaniel kurtzberg #alix kubdel #marinette dupain cheng #markov #chat noir #timebreaker #robustus #miraculous theory #ml theory #miraculous predictions #ml predictions #long post

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