#I’m not saying it doesn’t Track all things considered to do that messed up thing

[impossible-rat-babies]

really wanna see eyrie cry, but I know I’m not gonna get that but I’m gonna think about it nonetheless

#the ambiguity of the scene after 5.3 was so good baby definitely stood there for a second w the fantasy USB stick and cried #not bout redacted but because of the other one #me pointing at the other one: you were a child what the absolute FUCK y’all you really did that huh #you stuck a child in the heart of redacted and thought this is fine #I’m not saying it doesn’t Track all things considered to do that messed up thing #but it’s like. man…….. #me grabbing and shaking the table of where was Azem during all of this what were they DOING #I know the fame will tell me eventually but still! #i think it’s probably post EW #owen ffxiv spoilers #also yes eyrie crying they cry they’re gonna cry

[deadgirlwalking91]

New Guitarspear fic! 🎸 🗡️ chapter one below ⬇️

‘Thank You for the Venom’

Summary

Meet Adam. Commander of the Exorcist Army, arrogant loudmouth, womaniser, professional slacker.

And there’s Lute. Liuetenant of the Exorcist Army, hardass, cold bitch, overachiever.

They’ve been at each other’s throats for years – ever since anybody can remember. When Lute undermines Adam’s authority and presents an improved Exorcist training program to his superior, he makes it his sole mission to ensure her project is a failure.

What he doesn’t realise is that she’s usually two steps ahead of him.

What neither of them realise is that the Exorcists are taking bets on how long until one of them finally wakes up and sees what’s clear as day to everybody but them: that they’re both head over heels for each other.

I own none of these characters, they’re just super fun to write about. The swearing is plentiful, there’s talks of violence and there might be some spicy scenes down the track. The plan is to keep this light-hearted and fluffy (well, as fluffy as a story about these two can be), but as always things may change down the track.

This takes place before the events of Hazbin Hotel, and before Vaggie falls.

I’m planning to post this on Ao3 too… once I’m accepted.

***

Chapter One

Adam & Lute’s Office, Exorcist Training Centre, Heaven

Lute knew she’d messed up this time.

If she had an ordinary boss, she might only cop a slight reprimand for going over his head – an uncomfortable conversation, promises of ‘I’ll never do it again’, waiting for time to pass until the awkwardness of the situation wore off and they could go back to business as usual.

Unfortunately, her boss was far from what most would consider an ordinary angel – both in title and temperament. Which consequently meant his reaction to her undermining him would be… hostile, to say the least.

“I can’t fucking believe you went to Sera without talking to me first!” Adam bellowed, pounding his fist on his desk. Old coffee cups, abandoned paperwork and scattered stationary threatened to spill over the edge, littering the already cluttered floor around his workstation. “Fucking low blow babe, even for a kiss-ass like you.”

Don’t rise to his anger. Keep a cool head. Explain your case.

“Sir,” Lute laced her fingers together and placed them on the surface of her own desk, ready to state her case for taking her proposal directly to the High Seraphim and bypassing her superior. In contrast to her Commander, her own workspace was neatly arranged, not a hint of messiness to be found. She cleared her throat. “I tried to talk to you about this a week ago, and you dismissed me.”

“You haven’t said shit to me.”

‘Yes I have,’ she thought to herself, resisting the urge to retort back and begin a verbal tennis match. She knew she’d win – after all, she was much smarter than Adam, and could hold a sentence without swearing, cursing or a sexual innuendo. Stooping to his level would just escalate the situation further than where it needed to be, and if it got to that level she was certain things would get ugly. Fast.

“I’m positive we have had this conversation, Sir.”

“Nup. We haven’t.”

Lute inhaled slowly and deliberately through her nose, trying to supress her already-rising frustration. He was being particularly petulant today, and she found her patience with him was quickly wearing thin. Squaring her shoulders, she continued. “Sir, we were on our way to the eight o’clock agility training session. I remember it clearly as you were complaining that you had a meeting with Sera later that morning. I thought it would be an opportune moment to mention it to you as it would be fresh in your mind when you met with her.”

Adam snorted and leaned forward onto his elbows; the golden facial expression on the screen of his mask fixed into a jeer. “And you think that was a good time to approach me about one of your lame ideas? I thought you were smarter than that. What’s my first rule of working together, sweetie?”

Don’t throw a knife at him. Don’t threaten to disembowel him – as much as you want to. Stay calm, Lieutenant.

“With all due respect, Sir –” Lute growled, her professional tone wavering. “I hardly think that putting limits on when I can and cannot converse with you is conducive to creating a professional working relationship with you.”

“Firstly, we don’t have a professional working relationship, babe. It’s pretty fucking black and white, actually – I’m your boss, you listen to me. It’s not that difficult a concept to grasp.” Lute opened her mouth in anger to protest, but Adam held up a single finger, signalling for her to wait. Dumb move. That single gesture just fuelled the intense rage that was quickly building inside her.

“Secondly, the rule is don’t talk to me about important shit before nine o’clock. Chances are I won’t remember it because I’ll be half asleep, and I’ll give even less of a fuck about what you’ve got so say because you’ve pissed me off before I've had my morning coffee.”

“I’d rather not talk to you at all,” Lute said through gritted teeth. “But, I unlike you, actually care about Extermination Day, and if we continue how we’re currently track-”

“And I, unlike you,” Adam said mockingly in a high-pitched voice that was supposed to sound like Lute’s, “couldn’t give a shit about how many Sinners we slay next Extermination Day, or whatever the fuck it was that you ran to Sera about. The only thing that matters is that we show our faces in Hell on Extermination Day and slaughter some demon ass. That’s it. Those fuckers are scared shitless of us anyway, so it doesn’t matter how many we kill, we'll always have the upper hand. It’s called working smarter, not harder, babe.”

He cannot be serious right now. Does he not realise that our kill rate is slipping, year on year? How this might affect us long-term? That Sinners might start to fight back once they figure out that we’re starting to let our guard down?

“So what you’re telling me,” Lute started, now barely able to contain her vitriol, “Is that you don’t give a flying f-”

“Exactly.” Adam stood up and smirked down at Lute, the smug look of satisfaction on his mark now too much for Lute to bear.

Fuck you, you arrogant prick.

“Conversation’s over. Get back to actually doing your job, Lieutenant, instead of wasting my time with your insignificant, petty bullshit. Don’t fucking pull a stunt like this again.”

Adam strode towards the door of their shared office, pausing briefly as his hand rested on the door handle, his smirk intensifying. “Oh, one more thing.”

“What?” she snapped, head now in her hands. She couldn’t even physically look at him.

“I’m pretty sure we just established that I’m your superior, so a bit of respect would be nice to hear, Lieutenant.”

“What, sir?” Her hands pulled in frustration at her silvery-white bangs that had fallen into her eyes.

“Be a good girl and finish that overdue paperwork for me, would you? I’ve got more important shit to do. It’d be a good reminder for you of what your job actually entails.”

That’s it.

Lute had tried to play nice. Tried to do the right thing and raise her suggestion in a polite, professional manner. Took an alternative avenue once she realised her attempts at improvement were going nowhere. She’d even attempted to sit calmly through his dressing-down without reacting to his bullshit. But now?

She’d finally snapped.

Agilely leaping over her desk so she was in front of his, she picked up one of the multiple long-forgotten mugs that cluttered the surface and hurled it in his general direction.

Lute hadn’t really expected for it to hit him – the act of picking up the mug and throwing it had been born out of built-up frustration and anger at her imbecile boss, a need to expel some of the hatred that had built up over the course of their most recent conversation. The fact that it had connected with the side of his head and shattered into at least a hundred tiny ceramic pieces?

Just a bonus, really. It was just a damn shame it didn’t leave a mug-sized hole in his head.

‘Good. Hope it fucking hurt.’ She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction, taking in his surprise as he lifted a hand to his head and checked for blood. Time to let him have it.

“If anything,” she hissed in a low, dangerous voice. She was now moving towards Adam, one hand clenched by her side, the other pointed threateningly at his face. “Let me get this one thing through your thick head – though more than anything right now, I’d love to drive my sword between your eyes, carve up your tiny, pathetic excuse for a brain and force feed it back to you raw.”

Adam opened his mouth to respond, his surprise at her tone quickly turning to fury, but she didn’t give him the courtesy. He needed to hear this – graphic acts of violence and all.

“Shut it,” she snarled. “Shut the fuck up and just fucking listen for once, as difficult as that is for you. Because I’m not your fucking secretary. I’m not your assistant. I’m here to do my job – which is to provide training and mentorship to the other Exorcists, because you’re too damn incompetent to do it yourself.” Her normally restrained voice grew louder. “Perhaps if you focused more on doing your job, instead of screw-”

“Geez,” Adam drawled, “You’re a fucking little mouthy cunt, aren’t you?” He gripped the wrist of Lute’s outstretched arm, rage etched all over his mask, which had started glitching ever so slightly. Not a good sign.

Ouch. Lute may be the better aim of the two, and more agile, but Adam was had the upper hand when it came to brute strength. She was positive that his hold on her wrist was going to bruise – that was going to be fun to explain once it was noticed. She continued to stare him down, never daring to break eye contact or even blink. She couldn’t let him think he’d won. Even if he did have her arm in a death grip.

She’d rather fall to the depths of Hell than admit defeat to him.

Rap-rap-rap.

“Adam? Lute?” a soft voice called from behind the door. “Is everything alright? I heard something break just now.”

Sera.

Seizing her moment, Lute yanked her wrist from Adam’s grasp and made towards her desk once again.

“Come in, Your Highness,” she called in an uncharacteristically chirpy voice. “Adam accidentally dropped his coffee mug, and it broke, which is what you must have heard. I was just showing him the best way to clean up the mess.”

Adam shot her a filthy look and stomped back to his desk, muttering incoherently under his breath – though Lute was sure she heard the word bitch at least twice.

The handle clicked, and Sera poked her head through the gap between the door and the frame. She frowned at the scattered ceramic pieces that lay forgotten on the floor.

“Are you two… having a disagreement?” she asked concernedly, her large, almond-shaped eyes noticing the glowering looks the two angels were shooting each other. “I thought I could hear shouting.”

“Yeah, we’re fine Sera,” Adam waved his hand dismissively at Lute. “Lieutenant here was just running some ideas past me for next month’s training plan and got a bit carried away.”

‘As if he hadn’t completely flown off the handle just minutes ago’ Lute thought angrily to herself but feigned a smile and nodded politely. Going toe-to-toe with Adam in private was one thing, but she prided herself on keeping her composure around the Seraphim and other senior angels in Heaven. They didn’t need to know about their little disagreement.

Or the hundreds of disagreements that had occurred before this one. None had been quite this heated, though.

This was the only one that had almostended in violence, though. That was a first.

“Oh, excellent.” Sera moved into the room and shut the door behind herself. “What do you think, Adam? Your Lieutenant has some brilliant ideas, which I personally can’t wait to see executed over the coming months. Her presentation to me was very promising.”

The look on Adam’s face was positively feral now. Lute relished this moment and made a mental note to file this look away in her memory bank – seeing him quietly seethe in the presence of his direct superior, knowing it was in his best interest to keep his cool was something she was going to enjoy. To rile him up further, she propped an elbow on her desk, rested her chin in her hand and shot him a quick, satisfied smirk.

Cop that, asshole.

“Yeah,” Adam grumbled, suddenly busying himself with the paperwork on his desk. “They’re good.”

“Well,” Sera clapped her hands together and smiled at Lute, who bowed her head in respect in return. To hear that her proposal was highly regarded by one of the most senior angels in Heaven was praise beyond what she ever expected to receive for her work.

It was certainly more than what her direct boss had ever given her.

“That settles that, then. Lieutenant, if you could please come with me, I’d like to add a couple of things to your training program that I’ve thought of.” Lute nodded and rose from her desk once more, gathering her bag and notes. Noticing that Sera had turned to open the door once more, Adam quickly shot Lute a one-fingered salute to bid her farewell. Lute simply mouthed, “get fucked” in return.

“Oh, Adam, I see you’re working on the monthly training incident report that I asked you to turn in a week ago,” Sera said as he hastily went back to pretending to review his work. “Make sure it’s on my desk by five o’clock, please. I need it for a meeting tomorrow with the other Seraphim.” She turned and glided out the door, Lute only a few footsteps behind – though she took care to accidentally bump Adam’s shoulder with her own as she trailed behind Sera.

“Kiss-ass.”

“Dick.”

Lute closed the door with a little more force than necessary – just for good measure, knowing it would infuriate Adam to no end. Just to rub her victory in a little more. Because, after this round?

The score was Lute – one, Adam – zero.

Laughing to herself, she was sure she could hear Adam cursing her with language colourful enough to paint an entire rainbow as she strolled down the hall to Sera’s office.

Bring it on.

***

The Common Room, Exorcist Training Centre, Heaven

The Training Centre common room was abuzz with idle chatter and echoes of laughter as Lute entered later that morning, determined to continue her work far, far away from Adam. No formal training sessions had been scheduled for that day – the result of his poor timetabling skills, Lute was sure of it.

She would have expected the Exorcists to be using their ‘free’ time to hit the gym, or initiate sparring sessions with one another. Perhaps use the opportunity to enhance their weapon skills or, if they were particularly ambitious, simulation training. Slaying holographic demons was almost as satisfying as the real thing. Just a lot less bloody.

The reality was, on personal development days, the Training Centre turned into a goddamn sorority house. Hundreds of incredibly beautiful women congregated together in the common room, not a helmet or uniform in sight as they lazed about in their casual clothes. Some were huddled together in small groups, hands wrapped around mugs of steaming coffee or tea, giggling at whatever the latest gossip happened to be - usually centred around Adam’s latest squeeze. Others congregated around tables, playing card games (the most popular one lately, Lute had noticed, was an extremely competitive game involving red, green, blue, yellow and black cards that seemed to invoke a lot of shouting and name-calling).

The sight of it all never failed to give Lute a thumping headache. This wasn’t a fucking kindergarten, this was supposed to be work, dammit.

It wasn’t that she was against fun. She knew how to enjoy herself. There was nothing better than cosying up on the couch after a long day at the Training Centre with a hot chocolate, blanket and comforting book. Or an intense, two-hour gym session, sweating her frustrations away – a ritual she religiously undertook every single day, no excuses.

Sometimes, when Lute really wanted to spoil herself, she’d have a bubble bath. Now, that was wild.

Sighing, she located one of the more comfortable, vacant armchairs and slumped into it, allowing her eyes to close for just a moment. Normally she’d redirect the Exorcists to go and use their time more productively but after her earlier verbal sparring match with Adam, she needed a moment to relax before she got stuck into the fresh paperwork Sera had assigned her.

Sera loved paperwork.

Only three more days until I can start to turn this shitshow around.

“You look like hell.”

Lute chuckled softly. Without looking, she knew exactly who had greeted her in such a matter-of-fact way – it was the only person she’d allow to do so without punishment. Opening her eyes, she was graced by the presence of a petite angel perched on the arm of her chair, her soft red, almond-shaped eyes crinkled into a look of concern. She handed Lute a mug of steaming, black coffee which she graciously accepted with a wry smile. This morning’s events called for extra caffeine to get her through the rest of the day.

What an angel.

“Thanks, Vaggie. Rough morning in the office again.”

“Ugh. What did he do this time?”

One of Lute’s favourite things about Vaggie was how she was certain she was the only other Exorcist in the lounge who openly hated Adam as much as she did. Probably because she was one of the only other soldiers who he hadn’t taken to his bed over the years. They both often joked that he was the sole reason Vaggie was a lesbian, that the First Man was so repulsive that he alone caused her to swear off all men.

Lute didn’t have her sexuality as an excuse as to why she’d never slept with him. She just straight up hated him. Plus, it would be highly unprofessional. And he was a cretin.

Did I mention that I hate him?

“He found out I took my proposal to Sera.” Lute took a long sip from the cup, the scalding liquid almost burning her tongue. Perfection. “Then proceeded to lose his shit because he forgot that I’d tried to talk to him about it before I approached her. He thought that I’d undermined him.”

Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Typical. How did it end? Did he threaten to leave you in Cannibal Town next Extermination Day again?”

Speaking of cannibalism, I threatened to feed his own brains to him. That’s normal, right?

“Um, not quite.” Lute began, taking another sip of coffee. “I might have accidentally-on-purpose thrown a mug at his head.”

Also totally normal.

“I’m so proud of you. Did you make him bleed?”

“Sadly not, but there’s always next time.”

Vaggie grinned, clinking her own mug against Lute’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Amen. He then called me a mouthy cunt and I’m about ninety percent sure one of us would have caused grievous bodily harm to the other if Sera didn’t walk in at that exact moment. The cherry on top is that she came to tell him we’re going ahead with my plans.” She set her empty mug down on a nearby table and grinned up at Vaggie, who had now crossed her legs and somehow still managed to stay perfectly balanced on the arm of her chair. Tiny little thing, she was. “You should have seen his face, Vaggie. It was glorious. I’m surprised he didn’t self-combust in anger.”

“If only.” Vaggie downed the rest of her drink. “So, if Sera’s approved the plan – congrats, by the way, we need to celebrate - when do you start whipping us into shape?”

“Monday morning. We’re going to announce it in here during the morning address, before we move into the training rooms.” Lute surveyed the Exorcists lounging about. “Don’t know how the girls will take it, though. Can’t say I’ve scheduled too many days like this.”

“It won’t be easy at first,” Vaggie warned. “They’re too used to this kind of freedom.”

“I know, and if Adam undermine-”

“UNO!”

Lute and Vaggie whipped their heads around simultaneously at the sudden high-pitched squeal, Vaggie almost losing her balance and toppling off the armchair in the process. A group of five Exorcists were at a nearby table, playing the colourful card game that seemed to be all the rage.. One was grinning madly as she clutched a single card to her chest.

“What even is that?”

Vaggie’s eyes widened.

“Seriously? You’ve never played Uno? I know you’re a hermit Lute, but come on.”

“No,” Lute admitted, “Who would I play with anyway, besides you?”

“Fair point. But – and I say this with love – I’m worried that you’ve thrown yourself into your work a little too much lately, especially with this new program you’ve created. You need to relax a little.”

“What does it look like I’m doing now?” Lute grumbled. “If I’m not training, working, or exercising, I’m relaxing.”

“Lute,” Vaggie laughed. “I could see how tense you are as soon as you walked in here – and to be honest, you’d be uptight even if you didn’t have a crappy morning. This isn’t chilling out. Relaxing is letting your hair down, getting a drink after training with the girls. Playing cards,” She nodded towards the group of angels, the girl who was holding one card now picking multiple others up from a pile, cursing her friends as they all giggled amongst each other. “Try it, you might enjoy it. It’s actually pretty fun, once you get the hang of it. I absolutely annihilated Scout the other week, she wouldn’t talk to me for three days.”

“Maybe. It’s probably blurring the lines between me being their superior and being their friend, though.”

“Oh yeah,” Vaggie said dryly. “And you don’t think them taking turns being Adam’s flavour of the week blurs any lines, do you?”

Dammit. She’s got a point.

Lute screwed up her nose in disgust.

“That’s different. I’m professional, he’s… not.”

“I’m not saying sleep with them, geez.” Vaggie rolled her eyes and slid into a standing position. “I’m just suggesting maybe try being friendly with the other girls, that’s all.”

“Fine. Once the program’s under way. If they don’t hate me for kicking their asses and making them actually work.”

“You may be a hardass, but nobody’s gonna hate you.” Vaggie held out her hand, motioning for Lute to take it. “Come on. Let’s grab lunch, I’m starving.”

Would it be so bad if I let my guard down… just a little?

Lute took her friend’s hand, allowing herself to be pulled up off the seat. She grimaced slightly at the tenderness in her wrist where Adam had grabbed her – no doubt there’d be a bruise there tomorrow.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Vaggie slung her arm around her friend’s shoulders as they walked towards the cafeteria together. “Buckle up, buttercup. Shit’s about to get interesting.”

***

Chapter Two

#guitarspear #guardrock #lute x adam #adam x lute #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #guitarspear fic

[ninjaneonleon]

(last seen at the tmnt au comp u _ u )

Mikey almost fell over backwards when the frantic looking Leo counterpart appeared in his vision. Casey, of course, was no help. She just laughed as he stumbled over his own feet and tried not to fall. In the end he just floated back to his feet properly with a small pout.

“Oh, sorry,” the Leo (Leon? Yeah, that worked for now) said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I just really need to find my Donnie, he’s, uh, not very stable with others.” He held up the photo he was brandishing a little more for emphasis.

The photo in question showed a version of Donnie that was very different to the brother Mikey knew and loved. Not only was he notably paler, his usual jade colouring going almost pastel, he was softer somehow. Rounder. He was also wearing a beautiful feathered tutu, had small white wings and was en pointe. That Donnie looked like he was all set to dance in Swan Lake, maybe even as Odette considering the feathered crown he had in place of a headpiece.

“No, I haven’t seen him. Hey, why do you say he’s unstable?” Casey asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement. Eugh boy, if Casey got it in her head that she wanted to try sparring with this unstable ballerina Donnie, there would be very little Mikey could do besides try to hold her back. Maybe if he got the Donnie back with his Leo, he’d be calm enough to not take Casey up on her obvious excitement.

“He’s, uh, well he’s very much got a swan brain?” Leon offered with a sheepish laugh. “Half the time he’s fine, the other half…”

“Oh, he gets violent and territorial?” Mikey had a few encounters with swans in the past. They were dangerous bastards who can and will mess you up. “Eugh boy, that’s definitely not someone who you want to leave alone. Leave it to me, I can help you find him.”

“Wait, you can?” Leon lit up with a relived grin. “How?”

“Like this.” Mikey held his hand out towards the photo and got a feel for Swanatello’s (heh, Swannie, that was a perfect name for him) energy. Once he as sure, Mikey plucked that very unique feeling chain from the air. He studied it curiously. “Huh. This is a very old feeling connected to him. Well, anyway, I can track him for you. Just follow me, we’ll get your Donnie back,” he promised, not letting go of the chain.

“Thank you so much,” Leon said enthusiastically. I’m worried he’s either gonna freak himself out or hurt someone.”

“Has he got memory problems or something?”Casey asked, following after Leon and Mikey. “Our Donnie can be violent but he’s very good at directing that away from people. Most of the time.” She shuddered, probably remembering the sago pudding incident. Mikey didn’t want to dwell on that.

“Yeah, he’s sort of been claimed by this mystic lake to be its guardian?” Leon offered with a shrug. “It means that he barely remembers anything before, and on his bad days, he doesn’t recognise us at all. He might look small but he’s just as strong as ever.” Based on the way Leon rubbed his arm, he clearly knew just how strong Swannie was.

“Claimed by a mystic lake? I might be able to help keep him calm for a while, if you wanted,” Mikey offered. If he could make sure Swannie could still sense the lake, he might stay calm enough to not hurt anyone during this whole thing.

“Anything would be helpful, thank you Mikey.”

They walked together for a little while, following the pale coloured chain, until Mikey spotted Swannie. He was looking around frantically, his feathers all puffed up from how worked up he was getting. Okay, Mikey totally had this.

“Casey, wait here. Leon, you too. Let me see if I can calm him down.” As he spoke, Mikey let a wave of magic wash over him. When it cleared, he was in his own tutu (orange, of course) and had his pointe shoes on. Oh yeah, that was awesome, he totally nailed the dramatics there. It might have been a while since Mikey had done any serious dancing but luckily, his body remembered exactly what to do.

He called for Swannie’s attention by putting a spotlight on himself and on Swannie, one only they (and Casey and Leon) could see. Then he let some music start to drift around, again, done so it didn’t bother anyone who was want involved.

Swannie looked over immediately, but when he heard the music, he seemed to relax. Perfect. Mikey made his way over, travelling in time to the music and throwing in some of his own choreography, warming himself up slowly. He and Swannie met in the middle and for a moment, they danced together.

It was simple enough to weave in some magic to their dance. A nudge to the mystic hold on Swannie’s soul, finding the link back to the lake, a touch of mental magic in the form of white smoke gathering around them to make sure he could feel the lake and feel it was safe, and tada! One fully conscious and aware Swannatello.

“Mikey?” He asked slowly as Mikey let the illusions die down.

“Not quite. I’m a different Mikey, buuut your Leo is right over there.” Mikey gestured over his shoulder to where Casey and Leon were waiting.

“Leo!” Like a bullet out a gun, Swannie shot over to Leo and clung to him, getting an awed hug in return. Oh yeah, Mikey was good.

“Nice going, Mikey,” Casey said with a grin. She clapped Mikey on the shoulder. “Wanna stick around with these two for a bit?”

“Yeah, if they’ll have us,” Mikey said, watching the twins get quite emotional as they hugged. “I think they could use some familiarity here, and besides, I wanna dance more with Swannie.”

————

@tmntaucompetition

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #surp-rise!au #swanatello #propaganda #tmnt au competition

[voxaholic]

Character Info For My Bojack Inspired Human Au

Hollywood Losers Au

Val & Vox

-Hollywood’s messiest on and off couple of just about 20 years

-extremely codependent: Val makes messes, Vox cleans them up, that’s how they work

-Vox has a shit ton of spyware on all Val’s phones and a tracker on his car and it’s only partially out of insane possessiveness. Vox’s creepy bullshit has saved Val’s life on occasion 

-“Did you hide my fucking guns, Vox?” “Yes! And the fact that you’re even looking for them right now means I’m really glad I did!”

-Met on a set when Vox was still an actor and have been making each other miserable ever sense

-Gossip rags love them. Every piece of info about them is insane

-There are at least three twitter accounts keeping track of whether they are on or off again

-Neither of them would classify the relationship as abusive but from the outside observer, it definitely is

-Val is under the assumption that Vox is happy with their status quo and Vox is, until he isn’t 

-Velvette thinks one of them is going to end up killing the other eventually 

-they get into a lot of very physical fights. Vox usually comes out worse for wear

-see when a person with a disorganized attachment style and someone with an anxious attachment style get into a situationship…

Val

-43 but still lives and dresses like he’s in his early 20s

-semi washed-up actor that got his start on some sort of law and order-esque tv show

-has bleached and dyed his poor hair far beyond repair but it is still hanging in there somehow

-has had six PR managers quit on him over the last year and a half alone

-personal life goal is to do every drug once

-trying to fill the hole in his heart with hedonism. he thinks it’s working (it is not)

-self identified queer icon

-lots and lots of shallow acquaintances/fuck buddies, very few people he would consider close

-interested in the concept of a pet but every pet he’s ever had has either died of neglect or been taken in by Vox

-outward narcissism hides a deep yawning insecurity that he’s not even fully aware of

-self sabotages a lot

-likes to be taken care of and babied but only by Vox

-retweets his own callout posts on twitter (Vox deletes the retweets but screenshots exist)

-afraid of committing himself to anything

Vox

-45 and dresses like it

-greying early (he says it’s because of Val and Val thinks he’s joking. he isn’t)

-officially Val’s agent but also unofficially, his pr manager because every actual hired PR manager keeps quitting 

-a fake bitch who doesn’t give a shit about 99% of people

-unfortunately once he starts giving a shit about someone he can’t really stop giving a shit

-has run several financial scams

-has done so much white collar crime

-gotten Val off for so much shit, like really, so much fucking shit

-briefly a child actor. it ended badly 

-apathetic about most things outside of work but fakes it well enough 

-always has like 18 different side projects going

-wants to marry Val to finally get some sense of stability in their relationship

-a control freak who needs to know what Val is up to 24/7

-the one who cooks in the relationship. he’s not good at it and Val complains constantly about how bland his food is but he still eats it

-has a blue pitbull puppy named Vark who he loves like a son

-he’s THAT type of dog dad

#Hazbin hotel au #staticmoth #valvox #voxval #hazbin hotel #this will be a fic eventually #human au

[cinnamonrollorder]

Qsmp enjoyers. I hear “let q!Wilbur experience the horrors” and I raise you “what if, because Lovejoy is funding the Federation, they make a concerted effort to hide the horrors from him”

Think about it. There’s some stuff they can’t hide completely, but they can cover their tracks. Make things more confusing.

Wilbur knows very little, and his experience with the island was pretty positive. He was gone before the code monster, gone before most of the bad stuff happened. He barely knows anything about the Federation, other than they let him leave.

He’s confused by what’s happening now and that made him lash out at Phil in the maze. Phil filled him in on more stuff afterwards but that doesn’t mean he really grasps it all.

I’m just saying. It’d be really messed up of the Federation to, now that Wilbur is trying to find information, try to intentionally feed him lies to make other accounts seem untrue, that things are safer than they are, maybe string him along an easier route because he’s used to not having to struggle and claw his way through life.

I’m just saying. There’s an innate horror in being told one thing, then rarely ever seeing anything to support it. The Islanders talk about encountering things that don’t show up for him if he tried. They talk about how the Federation does horrible things but anytime Wilbur encounters them they smile and never do harm and merely wish him well. And logically he could guess he’s being lied to, and he’d be biased to believe Phil.

But how painful would it be for a man who’s so optimistic and hopeful that things were going to be ok as long as he tried, to be faced with the idea time and time again that he can’t get a straight answer, he can’t believe exactly what he finds. He has to doubt and consider and take three steps back every own forward because of what ifs.

#wilbur soot #qsmp

[cloudyswritings]

Yes… I am the silksong now!!

My thoughts and headcanons on Hornet. I’ll be real I’ve kinda been ignoring her because I’m terrified of having to tag silksong headcanons, I’ve seen the fucking Reddit. Anyway, enjoy my ramblings.

So I think that a Hornet qualifies as a pale being, she was born to one and has a pale mask of one. More than that she qualifies for being in godhome(a low bar ik, looking at you vengefly king).

She isn’t really a god per-se but definitely is a higher being on par or stronger than the great knights.

She obviously considers herself a spider but overall she inherited very little from Herrah.

Id say she only really got the fangs and dietary needs

Shes absolutely an obligate carnivore, so don’t expect her to be eating plant matter of any type. She does the whole inject her meal with venom to dissolve it and slurp it up deal

this is mostly because even though she’s got the full Wyrms arsenal of teeth and a Wyrms digestive tract her mouth is very small and she only has pedipalps and fangs externally. This means it’s very hard for her to eat any solid food/get it down to where her throat teeth can break it down

So interestingly her body color in combination with the vessels may actually tell us more about the pale kings- see both she and the vessels have black chitin suggesting it may be inherited from the king.

She also has both her fathers number of eyes and limbs, something that infuriates her deeply.

I don’t feel that the hornet we see in canon is her final molt, mostly because it seems like the sealing of THK functionally stopped time in Hallownest. I imagine once they’re free and the Radiance is dead she’ll probably undergo one last molt.

I think her missing limbs(she has 4 that we know of meaning she’d have 4 more as a spider) will actually end up growing into wings with said molt.

She also inherited her aptitude for mechanical stuff from the king. It seems like she makes all of her own stuff. Plus the crafting system and buzz saws in silksong support this.

She likes buzzsaws

I imagine if we could get a better look at the light she casts it’d be a lot like her fathers. She’d be a pale red light that falls far and deep but bears only a subtle influence on the world, like the strumming of gossamer threads.

Shes set down threads all over Hallownest, allowing her to keep track of a ton of things at once by feeling vibrations

She does have spineretes but uses soul to supplement and extend the amount of thread she can make.

She actually really likes the white lady, mostly because of good childhood memories from visiting the palace. She was the cool mom for a while. She’s more conflicted in regards to her towards the events of the game though.

Her favorite food is probably primal aspids, but she’s got a huge soft spot for honey because of her time in the hive. She also likes soups because they’re easier for her to eat(esp the ones Ghost makes)

She has very good eyesight from Herrah, but also has face blindness that she inherited from the king. She makes do, but mostly relies on clothing, scent, and body language to identify people.

As a grub she was the only one of her brood to survive, she was part of a large brood and likely spent her earliest days in a broodsack(that’s just how spiders do shit) but ate all of her potential siblings before hatching-she doesn’t know it but this is a wyrm instinct and her father did exactly the same thing.

She’d absolutely hate that if she found out.

She suspects but isn’t sure about why she’s territorial. Unsurprisingly it’s once again a wyrm thing

Her threads are far stronger and more durable than even those produced by the best weavers, in fact some of her silk may have been used for THKs seals- she probably doesn’t remember this cause she was too young.

Is mad she inherited the kings height. Honestly she’s mad about everything she inherited from him.

She doesn’t know it but she’s fairly resistant to void, especially for someone half mortal.

Sleeps in a giant mess of quilts, pilows, and silk. It’s held slightly off the ground. This is sorta a halfway point between a Wyrms nest and the silk hammocks of the weavers.

Shes a very fidgety and light sleeper, and realistically needs far less sleep than most beings.

Her venom is ridiculously potent, like to the point of being almost unanimously fatal to mortals and weaker higher beings. It would honestly still do a lot of damage to gods too. It’s a symptom of hybrid vigor, wherein the hybrid offspring of two species tends to be stronger, larger, and overall more genetically resilient than either parent.

Hybrids also tend to be sterile.

Hornet probably couldn’t have children if she wasn’t a higher being, even then I’m not really sure she could tbh.

Given enough time and soul she could pull a metamorphosis like her father did, though she doesn’t know how.

What she’d emerge as is unclear, but she’d likely either become a spider goddess in truth. Or even more likely she’d fully become a wyrm and abandon the mortal parts Herrah gave her.

For obvious reasons she won’t do this.

Her favorite color is a toss up between red and purple.

She weaves clothing for her siblings semi-regularly. Kinda gets frustrated at how often Ghost ruins their thought. They’re rough on clothing ig.

She didn’t inherit her fathers ability to burrow, but some of the instincts remain. She’s very frustrated at this.

She’s kinda bad at rembering names too, she gets embarrassed by this and it’s part of why she doesn’t stay anywhere long enough to get to know the bugs there.

Has a charm that was created from Herrahs regrets. It doesn’t do anything but give off the faint sense of a clawed hand on her shoulders and the faint whispers of the lullaby Herrah used to sing to her.

it’s still her single most prized possession

Her needles is a close second and was made of pale ore taken directly from the Pale Wyrms corpse. It’s the one thing her father gave her she loves.

he gave it to her as a gift for her being given a name. He likely used his foresight to figure out how large she’d be as an adult and made it in anticipation of that.

She can go an exceedingly long time without a meal. This was super helpful during the infection when uninflected prey was rare at best.

With age she is becoming more and more powerful as a higher being and will likely eventually become a goddess proper.

She has the lifespan of a Wyrm but doesn’t really know it yet and chalks her remarkable age up to the blurring of time during the infection. Despite this she’s still a child by wyrm standards and has many, many, many years left to live.

Most bugs are absolutely shocked to hear about her actual age.

Lace will be for sure, and she’ll probably live to regret threatening her.

Shes super fast, like almost impossible to track I’m combat at times, this is actually because of her use of both wind and soul magic along with the thread based spells of the weavers.

Her shell is covered with intricate and detailed carvings, this is essentially the weaver version of tattoos.

Im genuinely not too sure if her mask is actually her face like it is for the pale king or just a mask like for Herrah. I lean towards it being her face though.

The bell cult caught her while she was sleeping and that’s the only reseal they survived the encounter.

id say there’s probably a good chance of her ascending to godhood as a possible ending to silksong.

Doesnt really have a sense of humor but does find puns and dad jokes hilarious(they were the only jokes the pale king told when she was little)

Theorectically given enough prep time and motivation she could place webs all over the city of tears(or a similarly sized city) and pull all of the buildings down in one go.

She might also be able to do the whole puppeting corpses thing that happens in the beasts den.

She needs a certain amount of metal in her diet thanks to being part wyrm. It’s really hard for her to find in pieces small enough to fit into her mouth.

Some crack/non-serious headcanons

She’s absolutely a chain smoker on par with Grimm- you know why

When she says Shaw it’s because as a kid she couldn’t say saw, the king would be so damn proud.

She’d be so good at putting up Christmas lights. Like the best even.

secretly loves holidays, could pull of a mean Santa impression by just fucking hustling down peoples chimneys and stealing their cookies. She’d even have a big ass silk bag full of toys.

Maybe she does this for Hallownest once it’s built?

that’s it’s, this is how she ascends to godhood

Hornet is bug Santa.

#hk hornet #hk pale king #silksong #hollow knight #Hornet is bug santa #headcanon #Both cursed and not #speculative biology

[chibrary]

source: "proust questionnaire: charles leclerc" (now deleted) format: interview season: f2, 2017

What is your greatest fear? Charles: Snakes! They’re scary!

When do you lie? Charles: I really rarely lie: I hate lying. Probably when my trainer asks what I ate for dinner! [laughs]

What do you most dislike about your appearance? Charles: My hair: it’s always such a mess to get it right!

What is the quality you most like in a man? Charles: In a man I don’t really care! [laughs] My friends are mostly funny, so I’ll say funny: I like to laugh.

What is the quality you most like in a woman? Charles: I think it’s a mix between her looks and what she is inside.

Full text of now-deleted interview:

What is your idea of perfect happiness? Charles Leclerc: Racing on a circuit with a beach quite near.

What is your greatest fear? Charles: Snakes! They’re scary!

Which person do you most admire? Charles: My father. For many people the father is somebody who inspires you: he was a bit of an example for me since I was a child, and he went racing and taught me many things, so that’s probably the reason.

What is your current state of mind? Charles: Very happy! I won the championship with a race to go, we’re in Abu Dhabi and it’s a great place for a holiday! [laughs] It’s also a good place to race, and you can arrive with a bit less stress with the title in the pocket, so it feels good.

When do you lie? Charles: I really rarely lie: I hate lying. Probably when my trainer asks what I ate for dinner! [laughs]

What do you most dislike about your appearance? Charles: My hair: it’s always such a mess to get it right!

What is the quality you most like in a man? Charles: In a man I don’t really care! [laughs] My friends are mostly funny, so I’ll say funny: I like to laugh.

What is the quality you most like in a woman? Charles: I think it’s a mix between her looks and what she is inside.

When and where were you happiest? Charles: Probably any time I’m on track and it goes well: Jerez was one of those moments, last year in Abu Dhabi as well. When you win a championship it feels amazing: you put a lot of dedication to win the title, and when you win a title there is so much happiness all around you as well, because obviously the team is very happy as well. It can sometimes be very short, but as short as it can be, it’s very intense happiness.

Which talent would you most like to have? Charles: Playing football: I’m so bad at it! I’m actually quite good on the kick ups, on the technical side I’m quite fine, but any time I need to shoot in the goal it doesn’t go well…

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Charles: I don’t know! It’s a question I’ve never really asked myself, and you can’t really change yourself. I’m definitely not perfect, and any time I see something in myself I don’t like I change it, but at the moment…

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Charles: I guess winning Formula 2. Every year you go a step up in your career, when it goes well anyway, so the last championship I have won is Formula 2, so I would say that.

Where would you most like to live? Charles: I am so happy with my city: Monaco is an amazing city. Probably the only 2 other places that I really enjoy going are here in Abu Dhabi, and I went this year for the first time to Los Angeles and it was an amazing experience: I loved it. I probably don’t see myself living either here or in LA: I have everyone in Monaco, it is a small town where everyone knows everyone else, so Monaco.

What is your most treasured possession? Charles: My Fiat 500! It’s from 1969, and it’s just a great car! [laughs] It’s so much fun, and it’s not so quick but it’s very fun to drive, and actually people look at you more than when you are in a supercar or something like that! It’s always very fun to go in it.

What is your favourite occupation? Charles: It would be strange to not answer a driver!

What virtue do you most value in your friends? Charles: Honesty.

Who is your hero of fiction? Charles: Harry Potter: I’ve always been a fan when I was younger, and it has stayed with me! Okay, now a bit less, but if I have to pick one I will chose him because he is the one I followed: the movies I didn’t really like, but I was a huge fan when I was younger. And actually, many people say I look very much like him! [laughs]

Which historical figure do you most identify with? Charles: That is very difficult to answer! I don’t know.

What is it that you most dislike? Charles: Arrogance! It just makes me angry, to see an arrogant person: I think there are no reasons to be arrogant. And I have been racing for 15 years: I know many people! [laughs]

What is your greatest regret? Charles: Probably to have not enjoyed the times with my father enough while he was here.

What is your motto? Charles: I have one, but I can’t remember! [laughs] It’s something like with no dedication you won’t have the results you want: I can’t remember it in English…

#series:f2 #format:interview #year:2017

[withthewerewolves]

GoldenHeart Fix-it AU

Ok, so I know that everything between Ballister and Ambrosius needed to happen for themes, and parallels, and narrative foils, and all that freestyle jazz. I realize that changing this sort of ruins Ambrosius’s character, and makes Nimona a sidekick in her own story, and such. But consider this- 

It made me Sad. 

So what if an AU where Ambrosius is messed up by being the direct descendant of Gloreth in a slightly different way, and is a little less hinged as a result. 

The beginning goes down exactly as it does in the movie. The sword pommel lights up, the queen dies, Ambrosius swings his own sword. There’s a moment where it all freezes, Ballister still on his knees, gripping the place where his shoulder ends, big brown horrified puppy eyes locked with Ambrosius’s, begging for something (forgiveness? understanding? his arm back?) that Ambrosius can’t pull his scattered thoughts together long enough to give him. And then the jumbotron crashes between them, and when the dust clears, Ballister is gone. 

I don’t know exactly how long it is between the Night of Knights and when Nimona finds Ballister. It has to be long enough for him to:

a) find the hideout and equip it with what he needs 

b) design and build a prosthetic arm (using his nondominant hand)

and c) heal enough to install said arm. 

It also can’t be too long, because: 

a) the knights haven’t managed to track him down yet (perhaps this is giving them too much credit) 

and b) the story is still all over the news. 

I’m thinking this means less than a month, but not very much less. 

In the movie, Ambrosius spends this time doing…something unimportant. Crying in his room? Punching training targets until he can’t stand up? Researching survival rates for unintentional arm amputation? Doesn’t matter. In this AU, he spends it spiraling. He starts with one absolute: Ballister wouldn’t do anything bad. He saw the sword kill the queen with his own eyes, from much closer range than his nightmares would prefer. Alright. So why, then, WOULD Ballister do such a thing? 

He’s already struggled enough with the pressure to live up to Gloreth’s memory. We see that this sits heavy on his golden shoulders, and that both the Institute and the people put him on a pedestal. He’s seen the way the other trainee knights treat Ballister. We see that it bothers him, that Ballister instinctively holds him back from fighting Todd, as if this has happened before. We know that he knows that Ballister has worked harder than anyone, that he’s the best in their year, and that his lack of noble blood may (will) still ruin things for him. We know that he cares about protecting people, that he considers that to be a knight’s job. We see him choose to protect civilians, clearing the streets, when all the other knights rush to fight the monster. He can't be totally satisfied with the Institute’s training and ideology. 

He doesn’t eat (he can still smell the burning flesh as his sword cauterizes Ballister’s arm, even as he cuts through it). He doesn’t sleep (his dreams are nothing but green light and Ballister’s pleading eyes). He reads a lot of anti-monarchy blogs. Maybe he finds some futuristic-fantasy Karl Marx. Maybe there are some activists protesting systemic inequality and they have a website with a list of useful terminology and their definitions. He absolutely does not research mortality rates for unintentional arm amputation. He stops telling himself that has no clue where Ballister might have gone (maybe it's time to give up lying to himself altogether).

He leaves the Institute. He maybe says some imprudent things as he’s leaving ("Bal was right! Any system that allows you (Todd) to be a knight deserves to be brought down! Tyranny never wins for long!”). He sort of wants to leave his sword and armor behind, possibly with some amusing graffiti scratched into them, but he doesn’t know what Bal might be planning, if he might need it, and surely it’s symbolic, to attack the Institute using the tools of its oppression? On that thought, he does make one tiny detour on the way out. 

He finds Bal. There was only one place for him to be, once Ambrosius set aside the need to arrest him and let himself remember. I think it has to be before Nimona finds him, because Ballister puts on the new arm right before, and I want him not to be wearing it when he cautiously opens the door to his crumbling hideout to find Ambrosius framed in a shaft of late-afternoon sunlight, hair limp, eyebrow twitching like it used to before big exams, eyes maybe the tiniest bit wild. 

“Ambrosius?” Ballister is pretty sure he isn’t hallucinating. Yeah, the initial wound was rough, and the shock got to him, and he definitely had a fever for awhile there. But he’s been lamentably rooted in reality for weeks now, and he thought he was over that little mental hitch every time he heard a noise in the next room and realized anew that Ambrosius wasn’t the one making it. 

“Thank Gloreth,” Ambrosius says, because he may not have researched unintentional arm amputation but he does have an overactive imagination, and here Ballister is, upright and maggot-free and wielding a broken mead bottle. 

He has a speech planned. He’d recited different parts of it over and over on his way here. There were some good bits in there. 

Instead, he sees the gap where Ballister’s arm should be and loses the structural integrity of his skeletal system. “Darkness Beyond, I chopped off your arm.” His voice is mostly air pretending to be sound. 

“Uh,” Ballister says. “Yeah.” 

“I need to sit down.” 

Ambrosius maybe clanks a little as he sits (it’s not a fall if you state your intention before you hit the ground), but it’s ok because Bal is wearing his armor too (except for the right vambrace - nope he can’t think about that or he’ll vomit) and he clanks too when he crouches in front of Ambrosius, filling his entire visual field (the edges will come back eventually, he can still see the important part). 

“I CHOPPED off your ARM.” 

“Are you here to -” 

“I chopped OFF your ARM.” 

“You were disarming a weapon -”

“Who even does that? Who chops off people’s arms?”

“You were just following our training -” 

“Arm chopping is NOT a LOVE LANGUAGE.” 

“Forget the arm!” This catches enough of Ambrosius’ attention to drag him back into himself, because Ballister doesn’t actually get upset that often. He can’t afford to, not where the other knights or their trainers might see. He especially can’t afford to, when it’s just the two of them and Bal has to shove all the anger back down himself. 

“I don’t think I will ever forget the arm,” he says, but he smells Ballister’s sweat, like after they used to run miles in heavy armor, instead of roasting meat. He sees confusion and concern in Ballister’s eyes, instead of that horrible entreaty he never managed to answer. 

Ballister clunks to the ground beside him, back to the stone wall, missing arm shielded by his body. “No. I don’t know that I will, either.” 

Ambrosius doesn’t know what thoughts Ballister is caught in, but he can’t help drinking in his silhouette, familiar and beloved and so much more fragile than he’d ever imagined. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asks, even though he told himself he wouldn’t. 

Ballister turns toward him enough that Ambrosius can see the bitter quirk of his lips. “For the arm? Or for thinking I would kill Queen Valerin?” 

The last minutes have been the closest Ambrosius’s mind has been to still since that series of frozen seconds after Ballister’s sword flashed, followed by his own, but now it screeches to a halt. “You….didn’t?” 

Ballister’s head swivels slowly to look at him, like in one of those scary movies Bal likes so much. 

“Why not?” Ambrosius asks. It isn’t the question he means to ask. 

“WHY NOT?!” 

“I mean - because the monarchy is an outdated system that prioritizes bloodlines over ability - and the whole idea of nobility is classist - and the other trainees were awful to you just because you grew up on the streets - and why do we even HAVE kids growing up on the streets, do you know how much the Institute’s operating budget is? We could fund a million orphanages! Or -” 

“You think I would kill the Queen because some assholes were mean to me?” Bal is not tamping his anger down now. Ambrosius reminds himself sternly that Bal doesn’t like being angry, so it’s rude to think about how hot it makes him look. 

“No! I knew you’d have other reasons!” 

“The Queen is the one who LET me train to be a knight, even though I’m common born!” 

“She shouldn’t have had to let you, you more than earned it -”

“So you thought I would KILL someone?!” 

Ambrosius doesn’t have anything to say to that. He’s busy trying to re-sort all the stuff he JUST re-sorted to make room for Ballister killing the Queen, to make room for him NOT to have killed her. Does that mean he should put it all back where it was? How can he, now that he’s seen? He isn’t sure he wants to. He slumps back against the wall. After a moment so does Bal. 

“So what…did happen?” 

Bal swallows hard, his nervous tell. He doesn’t look at Ambrosius. “I don’t know.” 

Ambrosius is running on fumes, and he’s had to reorder his worldview twice in a short period of time, but he does still have a brain under the fabulous hair. “Someone framed you.” 

Bal glances at him through the corner of his eye. He’s somehow both more open and more closed off than Ambrosius has ever seen him. “Yeah.” 

“Were you the target? Or the Queen?” Yeah, he’s been reading the anti-monarchy blogs, but no one seems to have any specific issues with Queen Valerin. She’s fine, as far as queens go. No one has mentioned assassinating her. Actually none of them seem to have any plans whatsoever. But the activists have plenty of plans, and they didn’t talk about assassinating her either. Isn’t there supposed to be a different internet, just for criminals? Maybe they talked about it there? 

“Gotta be the Queen,” Bal says. “Which means the real killer is still out there.” 

"Hm," Ambrosius says, because he's thinking about all the stuff people have been saying about Ballister, both online (where he can scroll past it) and in the Institute mess hall (where he cannot). He's wondering if Todd, who is unfortunately not as stupid as he looks, could have pulled off something like this, when he feels a light touch against the outside of his thigh, where his chainmail doesn't cover. 

It's the first time Bal has touched him since before the ceremony. It's just the barest brush of the side of his hand, and could've been accidental except for how it's carefully placed so he can feel Bal's body heat through the cloth of his trousers, and how he knows that Ballister doesn't touch people by accident. 

Ambrosius can't tear his eyes away from Bal's hand. He's not wearing his gloves (glove). The skin on the back is cracked like it gets in the cold season, unless Ambrosius sits on Bal and applies the moisturizing cream himself. The nails are ragged and bitten close to the quick, and something dark is trapped under them, possibly the same something that's streaked along the base of his thumb. 

How's he supposed to clean under his fingernails with one hand? How is he supposed to WASH his hands, for that matter? Ambrosius quickly stops thinking about it. He’s here now. He'll clean them himself. 

"Do you believe me?" Ballister asks, and Ambrosius darts his gaze up to Bal's face. It's turned away, as if he can't stand to see the answer to that question. 

Bal's chin is scratchy where he hasn't been maintaining his facial hair, but Ambrosius revels in how warm and alive he feels under his fingertips as he tilts Bal's face toward him. "Bal," he says. "Of course I believe you." 

Something in Bal's eyes breaks, or heals, or cleaves like a sword through bone. He slumps, suddenly looking like a teenager playing dress up in the huge armor he'd worked so hard for. Ambrosius wishes he wasn't wearing his own, because Bal tips so that his head is buried in Ambrosius’s chest, and that would be so much more satisfying for both of them without a chestplate. 

Ambrosius buries his face in Bal’s hair (lank and unwashed, but smelling so much like BAL that he wants to roll around in it) and maybe cries a little. Bal maybe cries a little too. Ambrosius makes a mental note to get them both out of their armor as soon as possible because he needs to hold Bal properly, feel the warm living weight of him, maybe lay down and pull Bal over him like a blanket, revel in the soft puffs of Bal’s breathing, the chill of his toes, the flutter of his eyelashes against Ambrosius’s skin, the physical realness of him. All the little details his imagination could never get right. 

Probably he does get to do this. Probably he gets them bathed and wearing fresh clothes (he probably packed a duffel bag from their shared dorm room), and maybe feeds them both some canned beans he finds in Bal’s mostly empty cupboards. Probably Bal shows him the prosthetic arm, which is nearly finished, and lets him marvel over the genius of it. Probably he says that once they’ve got Bal’s name cleared he should become an engineer, what was he doing wasting a mind like that on being a knight? 

Probably they get to take a nap, pressed together on the couch. Probably Ambrosius is horrified anyone has been sleeping on that biohazard, let alone someone with a healing wound. Probably he’s too tired to come up with anything better. 

If we’re kind, we could maybe give them just this one sleep without any nightmares. They need to be firing on all cylinders, because they’re going to be woken by a loud banging at the tower door. 

I personally think it would be very funny if Ambrosius is completely on board with all of Nimona’s plans. He probably pushes for non-violence if possible, and then when that fails, for at least leaving innocent civilians out of it. Nimona isn’t convinced the civilians ARE innocent, but Ambrosius has some ideas for breaking stuff that intrigue her. Bal is horrified by the entire conversation, and has to be talked out of just going to the Institute and explaining himself. It works this time though, because Ambrosius knows exactly how unreceptive the Director is going to be. 

Todd is the one leading the search this time, so he probably leads them in completely the wrong direction while our heroes talk to the squire. But if they do have a confrontation, it’s worse. There’s no intention to arrest them unharmed. There’s no chance to explain. No relationship talk over locked swords. He’s got the knights shooting to kill. 

I’m not sure how Nimona reveals her shapeshifting. Probably Ambrosius is just as upset as Bal is, but he and Nimona are anarchy buddies. He makes himself take a step back and examine his initial reaction, possibly while narrating his thought process. If he didn’t condemn her for skewering guards on her rhino horn, he can’t condemn her for HAVING a rhino horn, can he? 

Maybe the happy ending for them is this AU is different from the happy ending in canon. Maybe after they release the video of the Director, they do set out together to explore the world beyond the Wall, all three of them. But it isn’t because they’re afraid of the kingdom or the people in it. It’s because they aren’t tied to the kingdom anymore. They’ve all moved past the boxes the kingdom would try to put them in. They don’t NEED the kingdom anymore. None of them are going to be alone. 

And adventure awaits. 

#nimona #ballister x ambrosius #please talk to me guys #I wanna DISCUSS #my writing #not!fic

[itsnothingofinterest]

Since I have you, btw, I’d like to address something that I don’t see you bringing up very often in your posts: the place that civilians have in the absolute mess that is hero society.

In MHA’s society, heroes are put on a pedestal as being the answer to all of society’s problems, the ones who will always save the day. Tenko’s story is emblematic of this; he needed help, and the so-called “good citizens” paid him no heed or told him to wait for a hero, because they didn’t consider it their job to help him. Thus, he was taken in and groomed by AFO, leading to the current situation.

A lot of your posts talk about how the heroes haven’t substantially changed and how the new generation doesn’t seem to be surpassing the old one as much as they should, but… how much better can you really expect them to be? They’re basically super-powered cops or soldiers. They’ve been trained to be the blunt instruments of society, upholding public order even when that order isn’t necessarily good. And while it’s great that heroes like Izuku and Ochako are thinking beyond that, I don’t think they can or should be made to take all the responsibility on improving things. Just because they’re superhuman doesn’t make them gods. They just can’t do it all (again, especially due to the influence of their training and the corrupt government).

I don’t expect a MHA II, and even considering that possibility, I’m not really sure it would address your complaints with the heroes. Personally, what I’m hoping for is that the civilians follow up on what was said after Ochako’s speech. They should answer her call, mobilize, get the fallen heroes and villains to safety, and after the war, they should factor heavily into how society improves for everyone. That’s my take on things.

(Kind of in response to this post.)

Well I do think a change in the civilian mindset is a potential solution to the faults in hero society, or at least a part of one. (It’d need to be quite a dramatic shift to help more than just the Tenkos of the country though.)

If I may broaden the topic a bit, I'd say in general that any kind of solution I’m looking for would involve some drastic change in one or more levels of hero society to save the people current-day heroes are sweeping under the rug. Could be the heroes, could be the civilians, & government's a longshot but would that work if it happened. That said, relying on the civilians here and now, as we last saw them for that is a bit…well…

The Civilian level

Alright so; my main problem with putting all this on the civilians right now is, even when they let Deku in under Ochako’s prompting, many only ultimately agreed to take Deku in that day when promised a return of the status quo. That deal was even a significant part of Ochako's speech. So they didn’t come out of that looking ready to better the world to me (even before we factor in them triggering Danger Sense when demanding he leave.) And even then, if we took that decision in the best possible light, that’s just one step in the direction of solving just one of the many problems that led to the League destroying so much. Let's not forget their troublesome mindset towards any unseemly quirks like Shinsou's, Toga's, or any heteromorph. And just, in general the civs have a shorter track record of being helpful then...the opposite. It's just hard putting everything, all the hopes for this country pulling its head out of its arse, on one scene of the civs agreeing to house a hero in exchange for the heroes doing their job, you get me?

I mean like, I certainly can get behind the idea of the civilians changing to better help each other not fall to tragic villainy or excuse corruption; they just don’t feel there yet in the same way the kids don’t/haven’t felt ready to save their villains yet.

(To say nothing of how humanity in MHA has a shelf life of around a century at best. And no one left on any side cares to do anything about it even for selfish reasons. So it really feels like small steps towards getting their act together are not the way to go, if for no other reason than another crisis will soon make them all very busy.)

Also, and this is minor in the grand scheme, but we should remember that there are no civilians anywhere near any battleground in this war besides hospital patients and the Todorokis; the rest are all evacuated. So I’m afraid likely we can't end the war with them helping with the clean up and getting folks to safety, and thus build this idea of them carrying their weight going forward. Best we could get is an epilogue with little additional build up of having them all clean up their act. And I'd question the writing of that happening, & that being the big solution to everything that got use here.

The Hero level

Regarding the heroes; well to be honest I don't see a ton of trouble with putting this on them when saving as many as they can is what heroes are supposed to do. Yes under the current system, they’re just super cops in practice; but that’s a flaw in the system capable of being mended, not some unavoidable part of the ideal they’re trying to embody. There's plenty of room for what heroes are to grow to what they should be.

‘Plus I don’t think any Deku-types would really be opposed anyway, he wants to save everyone already, and it feels like the idea of heroes sweeping aside those they don’t save hits home for him’...that’s what I had written before the last chapter dropped while writing this and supported everything I’m saying*. For all I criticize Deku & his classmates; we all know he wants to do more, to save more. Give him the chance & a good idea how and he’ll jump at “shredding the rug with his own hands.”

Maybe it is, from a certain perspective, unfair to say they all need to be like this. But I get the distinct impression that this is what a lot of the hero characters want to be; this is part of the ideal they want to embody. After all, in the aftermath of his forced retirement, even All Might wanted to save Tomura.

(*Btw, sorry this took a bit to write.)

The Government

Ah yes, and it'd be remiss of me to ignore how much of this stems from seeming government policy and general societal reaction to quirk based topics (though there may be overlap there & civilian attitudes). But I want to post this answer sometime this week; so I won't get too into the poor handling of quirks since their inception, the correlating quirk laws, just...the hero commission in general (where would I start?), the effects all this has on hero training as you brought up, or the prison where people get sent for life with no trial or parole. (I don’t care if they’re all supposed to be monsters, especially when we know that’s where they’d have sent Toga & Dabi had things gone differently. “But Tartarus was destroyed,” Yeah but why would they not make a new one?) And probably other stuff I'm forgetting off the top of my head. But suffice to say, there’s a few messes that could be cleaned up there too.

Conclusion

So I guess one way or another, the solution I’m looking for is some dramatic shift in hero society on one or more of the civilian, hero, or government levels to address the causes of the League's fall to villainy. Any combination could hypothetically work.

But the reason I never shut up about a my hero part 2 is that none of them feel like they’re in a state to work like that now. Heroes & civilians on their respective wholes have both made small steps in the right direction and I don't want to downplay that (leadership not so much but what else is new), but both elements need more time & development to accelerate these steps and feel like we could trust them to get anything done in the next century.

#ask & reply #bnha #midoriya izuku #uraraka ochako #class 1a #hero society #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #dabi #toga himiko #paranormal liberation front #PLF #all might #hero public safety commission #tartarus #my stupid long term predictions

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

wallflower 24

Warnings: age gap, creepin’, slow burn, stepdad-adjacent, possible noncon/dubcon, abuse, violence, self-harm, manipulation, panic attack.

Character: silverfox!Thor

Your mother meets a new man, but he doesn’t seem very interested in her.

Note: <3 Another erratic drabble series. Appreciate any and all feedback. Love you all.

"Hm, I am torn. Why don't you choose one for me? I'm afraid I have a terrible habit of being indecisive," Loki peruses the tray of chocolate.

"Oh, I guess… um," you glance over the truffles and point to the one with golden icing, "this one."

He smiles and picks out the chocolate.

"Make sure to have one too, that strawberry delight looks rather tasty."

"I will," you glance over as Thor arranges logs in the fireplace. You approach him and hold out the box, "here."

"Oh, I get one too?" He dusts off his hands as he shifts on his knees.

"Of course," you deflate, "unless….you don't want one?"

He considers you and his face creases, "thank you, kitten, I will have one."

He plucks up a white chocolate bulb and pops it in his mouth. You retreat as you try to decide on one of your own. You choose the one with pink beads all over it.

You close the box and set it down. You cup your hand under your mouth to catch the mess as you bite in. You sit on the couch and wait, unsure what to do next. Loki surprises you as he takes the cushion beside you and swallows.

"I think I'd like to stay for dinner after all."

Thor huffs, the heavy breath makes you uneasy. He finishes placing the wood and strikes up the kindling. He braces his knees and stands with a groan.

"Is that okay?" You ask, realising you May have overstepped.

"He's my brother," Thor says dully.

"Always a loving sibling," Loki remarks and you take another nibble of the chocolate.

“I do have work to finish,” Thor utters dully, “are you alright entertaining our guest?”

“Um…” you furrow your brow.

“I can amuse myself quite well,” Loki sits back and checks his watch, “dear, please, enjoy all your new things. Brother, go on and… work.”

“Er, well, I suppose I should put all this away,” you stand up and sidle along the front of the couch, “then I’ll start on the tacos.”

“Take your time,” Loki says smoothly as he pulls out his phone, “I am in no hurry.”

“Do you need help with that, kitten?” Thor asks as you lift the bag. It is heavy but you manage.

“No, I think I’m okay,” you face him again, “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“You know I don’t mind,” his face softens, “so if you do need anything…”

“Oh, Thor,” Loki slithers, “she is an adult, I believe she can handle it herself.”

“I know she can,” Thor retorts, “I was being nice.”

“Mmm,” Loki hums and you slowly move towards the door.

“Thanks, both of you,” you murmur.

You flit out, the cool air of the entryway easing the heat that nips at your nape. You hear Thor grumble into a growl but can’t make out his words as you quickly cross to the stairs. You glance back as Loki tilts his head up and smirks in his brother’s direction.

You never had any siblings, not even friends. It’s likely normal, you just wouldn’t know any better.

🌻

You sit down at the table, the fruit of your labour plated and ready. Thor and Loki sit across from each other as you take the chair at the end of the table. It’s deathly silent as you focus on your plate and try to ignore the tension.

“Oh, my pills,” you stop yourself from folding your taco over.

“Yes, uh… let me get those,” Thor stands abruptly.

Loki watches him pointedly, a strain in his cheek. As the blond leaves the room, the darker haired man looks at you, “we did talk about your dosage and I felt it best to reduce you to a single pill to allow for proper adjustment.”

“Oh, okay.”

“It will make you less tired. I think maybe in your journal, you should track any side effects you notice.”

“I’ll try,” you run your fingers along the edge of your plate.

Thor returns and sits down, the pill bottle in hand. He pops off the lid and picks out one tablet. He places it down without a word as he replaces the cap and slides it around the other side of his plate.

“We were just discussing her treatment plan going forward,” Loki takes the sour cream and added a dollop to a taco as he spoke, “she understands now.”

Thor’s lips slant, “that’s good. I hope the change is for the better.”

“Yes,” Loki puts the container back and grabs the salsa, “I think it should. Forgive me but I should’ve accounted that you have no historical prescriptions that I know of.”

“Uh, yeah, um, no,” you mumble as Thor rolls a taco up.

You’ve never been good at reading people but Thor seems irritated. You don’t know why but you suspect you’ve done something wrong. You gather up a taco and occupy yourself with an overly large bite.

"So… how long can we expect your guest to stay?" Loki grins, "I could provide some resources for her support. There are many programs–"

"As long as she needs," Thor growls through a full mouth before gulping it down tightly, "I told her she can stay. She doesn't need some shelter."

"Yes, but she is an adult. Once she is a bit more set in her recovery, it may be worth it to consider at least some activities outside the home. A job, even part-time. I could help with that as well."

"No, you don't need to. You won't," Thor insists curtly, "I am taking care of her just fine."

You stare at your plate, the food tasteless in your mouth. Inviting Loki was a mistake but you were just trying to be polite.

"One thing at a time, I suppose," Loki says, "but ultimately it is up to her."

Thor snarls and chews angrily. You cringe and wiggle your nose. Loki contents himself with delicate bites in the silence. You drop a cluster of beef onto the plate and further chide yourself for choosing such a messy dish.

"We will see," Thor wipes his fingers and takes a drink, "even for a doctor you are overly concerned."

"One could say the same of you. Taking in a stray from a woman you knew for how long exactly?"

You nearly choke and force down a gulp. Thor grimaces and rolls his eyes, clunking down his glass.

"Was I supposed to watch her be abused?"

"Oh, a saviour, you are so honourable–"

There rising tones makes your chest thrum.

"He… he helped me," you eke out, "that's all."

"Surely he did, dear, but he should be as concerned with making sure you have something beyond this. He can only help you so far–"

"Shut up and eat your food," Thor sneers, "she has enough to worry about. Some bridges don't need to be crossed right now."

Loki laughs, unfazed even as you gape at Thor outburst. His anger brings you back to the night he took you away from your mother. It was the only time you'd ever seen him like that.

"Please," you cover your ears, "I don't like fighting."

"We are not fighting, darling," Loki says coolly, "we are merely conversing, yes brother?"

Thor’s jaw ticks and he nods slowly, "just talking, kitten."

#thor #dark thor #dark!thor #thor x reader #wallflower #au #drabble #series #dark drabble #dark!drabble #silverfox #mcu #marvel #avengers #Loki

[thyla]

@machine-slays-dragons​ asked for a steddie fic rec. thought it might be easier to do a post and share. on request there will be no vampire!eddie fics on this list. and also i’m fairly new to steddie so i’m sure a lot of these fics have been read by lots of people. But I will try to stay clear of adding very popular ones to this list. so anz, hopefully there’s at least one fic on this list you haven’t read!! this isn’t even close to everything i’ve read just ones i’ve recently read. so here’s a short fic rec! Also! it’ll be a mixture of fics i’ve read on here and also fics i’ve read over on ao3.

Eddie’s Memory Log or read it here (starting here because I just finished this fic and it’s amazing 😘 go read!) 38,523 words

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps. They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be. About how grateful Eddie would be. Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder? But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids. So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

never been kissed (26,726 words)

Someone should... definitely check on how his brain is doing, after Eddie’s confession. Virginity is bullshit anyway, right? Robin told him about it, how it’s a completely made-up societal construct that invalidates a lot of queer people’s sexual experiences, and how toxic it can be to straight relationships too, so he can take her lesson to heart and be normal about it. Totally. “That’s so fucking hot,” he blurts out. Okay Harrington, way to be normal about it!Or, Steve is experienced, and Eddie is a virgin.

in breakable heaven (23,724 words)

"Dustin…” Nancy asks slowly. “Do they know we know?”

“No?” Dustin tries, but the way his voice goes up an octave or two betrays him.

“Dustin.” The girls say in unison.

“Okay, yes, they know you know!” Dustin finally gives in, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. It’s been one long summer and he just wants this thing to be over with already.

"Wait." Robin says. "They don't know that we know they know."

OR: Steve and Eddie are trying to hide their budding relationship, but their friends keep finding out anyway. Things take a turn for the worse when their friends try to mess with them to get revenge (based on Friends s5ep14 The One Where Everyone Finds Out)

slowly learning that life is okay series (35,112 words)

Under a much different circumstance, Eddie would have loved to have Steve’s eyes looking over him like that, would love to have that determination focused on him, but Eddie is very much dying, he knows it, so he smiles at Steve’s misplaced confidence instead, “High expectations, Stevie. Where’d you learn to swing like that anyway?”

“I’ll tell you,” Steve’s voice is a bit shaky, his tone wavering, even as he puts on a brave face, “but you have to stay alive, Munson.”

If he had more strength, he’d consider testing his luck one last time, tease Steve by asking if he swings for Eddie’s team, but- he’s tired.

Dying young. What a fucking nightmare.

Or, what if the Party defeats Vecna in time, and Eddie lives?

There id a Light That Never Goes Out series (73,886 words)

It’s not even the nightmares most of the time. At this point, Steve would totally settle for some up close and personal time in his brainpan with the Upside Down if it meant he could actually fucking sleep.

Crimson and Clover verse (20,685 words)

“There’s no immediate supernatural danger to our universe currently, not at this exact moment. I’ll be sure to let you know if there is. I’m just trying to get a little buzzed and have a good night, okay? Not everyone has to be perpetually horny all the time.” “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!” Robin says, mock-hurt.

Or, Steve has a bisexual identity crisis and Eddie just wants to make him feel good.

or or or I saw a post about Eddie having a black hankie in his back pocket which in gay hankie code in the eighties meant that you were into S&M.

don’t ruin this on me (2,298 words)

Steve had always loved making his partners feel good. Watching people cum just from his mouth, their legs clamped around his ears–it was his favourite thing.

Or it was, before Eddie Munson ruined it for him. Ruined him..

(Or: Eddie sets out to Destroy Steve in the best way.)

Seems to Satisfy (5,348 words)

“I can’t like… get hard. At all. Since, uhhh -” he trailed off awkwardly.

There was silence, for a second. Steve’s fingers dug into his thighs.

“You… what?” said Eddie, finally.

love is like ghosts (7,780 words)

They stand at the base of a short flight of stairs leading up to the old university library. From everything Steve’s read, it’s one of the most haunted places in Indiana… within a tank of gas’ drive… that would let them in after hours.

“It’s the witching hour,” Eddie says spookily. He’s come up behind Steve, pressing close and wiggling his fingers on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve huffs a laugh and starts double checking his pockets for his share of the gear. Something to focus on that’s not the way Eddie’s breath ruffles his hair and skims over his cheek, raising goosebumps in its wake.

It’s not like he doesn’t like the attention, the closeness, the physicality of Eddie. He does. Probably too much. Especially since they’re just friends. Steve knows he’s not special to be on the receiving end, it’s how Eddie is with everyone.

the lathe (82,547 words)

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

— or, steve relives the day they try to kill vecna over and over, and eddie just can't seem to stop dying. steve finds this totally unacceptable.

flight risk (81,321 words)

Eddie Munson is famous for giving his bodyguards the slip. Enter Steve Harrington. Has this bratty rock star finally met a babysitter that can keep up with him?

Rock My World (23,160 words)

After a lot of nagging from Dustin, Steve agrees to take him to see Eddie’s band, Corroded Coffin, play at the Hideout. He finds himself focused on more than just the music…

—

Or, Steve has a hell of a revelation.

In Your Eyes series (48,965 words)

It was decided then and there in the Buckley residence’s lounge, on their weird Persian carpet while staring up at the off-white ceiling and Robin giggling at his side. He was going to rock Steve Harrington’s platonic world, man. And nothing was going to get in his way.

Or... Eddie notices Steve struggles with touch and in trying to help his new friend, develops feelings along the way.

i don’t ask much (i just want you) (8,224 words)

"The fuck are you doing, Harrington?"

"Getting comfortable." Is the only response Eddie receives before Steve's head lands on his shoulder, half on his chest as he scoots up in the bed. Eddie freezes, mid air guitar solo, and frowns.

"Personal space, dude." He's so proud of his voice for not cracking when he says it, "Heard of it?"

Steve snorts and takes a puff, smoke clouding around his mouth before he blows it away, lips pursed in the air. "Don't think you're one to talk about personal space but I'll move if you want."

the affliction of the feelings (27,203 words)

“Hold on,” Robin interrupts. “Hold on, is this— are you, like. Do you know what masochism is?”

“I know I act like it sometimes, Robin, but I’m not actually fucking twelve,” Steve says.

OR: Eddie has a black hanky in his back pocket.

Steve and Eddie: Alternative ‘First’ meeting (read here on tumblr)

The Shire is NOT on Fire (54,148 words)

The kids convince Steve to take them all to a Renaissance Faire and LARP event. Steve has more fun than he admits. And then Steve has a LOT more fun than he admits.

November Paramedic (read here on tumblr) or on ao3 (25,662 words)

Eddie has had his fair share of fantasies, but none of them involved fucking a paramedic.

Until two years ago.

That's when the "sexy men at work"-calendar got added to his porn stash and orgasms as he knew them changed forever. All the men in the calendar are hot, but none of them hold a candle to the paramedic. He's got this look in his eyes, this slant to his mouth. Like he knows he's the hottest guy in it.

And everything is fine. Everything is great. Eddie's been single forever and he has no idea where he's headed in life, but he's fine.

At least until he's collateral damage in a bar fight after a gig, and none other than his sexy November-paramedic arrives to treat his wounds.

#steddie #steddie fics #steddie fic rec #anztag #*ficrecs

[xieyaohuan]

Public Relations

Cozy Corner Kinktober prompt: Voyeurism

Warnings: voyeurism. I feel like I should add more warnings, but I'm not sure what the right keywords are. So here is your warning for the general disturbingness of the way things are wired in Homelander's brain.

When the first complaints came in, they were considered a bit of a running joke inside the company. For almost three months, each time this came up in a PR meeting, someone would crack a joke along the lines of “Well, he’s just doing what any good hero should do: watching over the citizens of New York,” and everyone would chuckle and move on.

That, at least, was what Madelyn's sources told her later when she made her inquiries.

She had heard rumors that Homelander was doing something that people at the company found amusing, but it seemed harmless enough, no more than the usual gossip mill, really, so she didn't bother asking for details.

That was a mistake, of course. As always with these kinds of things, at some point, the right person picked up the phone, bumping it up the chain of command. By the time Stan Edgar decided to inform Madelyn that there was a problem, it had been escalated to the board.

At first, Madelyn didn't want to believe it. “He’s doing what?”

Mr. Edgar simply handed her a USB drive. “We’ve been tracking him for months now. He’s discreet enough 90% of the time, but he’s been spotted more than once.”

Madelyn stared at the flash disc in her hand. “How bad is it?”

“We’re sorting out social media as we speak, but I’m going to be honest with you, we barely managed to keep the footage off the 9 PM news. You’re going to have to take action, Madelyn, and fast. We can’t keep having these complaints or someone in this city is going to run on an anti-Vought platform next election cycle.”

That was almost certainly an exaggeration. Still, Madelyn sees his point when she watches the footage. It’s disturbing. It has to stop.

She brings it up the next time Homelander barges into her office unannounced. It’s a bad habit he’s picked up lately, and she hates it with a passion. If this will help discourage him, all the better.

“You’ve been outside the Tower a lot lately.”

“Mh-mhm,” he says. “Yeah. That's right. You told me to go out more. Make some friends. Right? I’ve been making friends. You were right. Having friends is great. Turns out I really like having friends.”

“I see.” She’s not offended he’s trying to spin this into a win, just that his attempt is so crude. But she also has to be careful how she phrases the next part. “Listen. I don’t want to pry. But it seems you’ve been doing some things that are… unsettling to people.”

“Mh-mhmm.” He nods, but the artificial smile has dropped off his face. “Like what?”

Wordlessly, Madelyn presses the remote control of her TV. The video is dark because it was taken during the middle of the night, but the camera has unmistakably captured a person hovering in the air. The number of supes who could do that for hours on end is already limited, but as if that wasn’t enough, the US flag cape floats into vision each time a gust of wind lifts it. It’s Homelander, fifty feet above the ground, his eyes glowing slightly every once in a while in an otherwise expressionless face, staring intently at the brick wall of someone's Upper Westside home. (It would be less disturbing if he was peeking through the window, she thinks.)

When he starts rubbing himself through his pants, Madelyn turns the TV off. It only gets worse from here; she really doesn't have to watch again. She has no clue who lives behind those walls and what they’re doing, though she can take a good guess.

“I think you get the picture.”

Homelander doesn’t say anything.

“This was sent to us anonymously,” she continues. That’s a lie. People did film him, that was what started this whole mess with the board. But this here is Vought’s very own footage, captured by one of its many panoramic cameras spread across the City. But their mere existence is on a need to know basis, and Homelander most certainly does not need to know the company has been using them to track him. “It goes on for 75 minutes.” Only because the full 8 hour footage the panorama camera captured didn’t fit on the drive, but Homelander doesn’t need to know that, either. “Do you have anything to say?”

“It’s not illegal!” He counters. It’s the latest line he’s been trying on her whenever she finds fault with something he’s doing, and it’s annoying Madelyn more than she cares to admit. But his face has turned red, and he knows he’s in trouble.

“It is, actually,” she says. “It is quite illegal to masturbate in public.” She puts the remote down. “But that’s not the point. What it is is damaging. It’s damaging to you, damaging to the Seven, and it’s very damaging to the company.”

He doesn’t try to talk back this time — dismiss her concern or argue about the definition of public and whether fifty feet up in the air counts, as she feared he might. Instead, he’s just standing there, biting his lip, avoiding her gaze.

“I thought we were over this,” Madelyn says, sitting down on the couch with a sigh. “You’d been so good lately. Listening to me, always. I thought I could trust you. And then you go and harm us like this.”

His arms are locked behind his back, his nose twitching as he’s struggling not to cry in front of her. She knows each word she’s saying stings like a lash would an ordinary person, the pain building, until finally, he bursts into tears. She could read him the comments under one of the videos Vought just managed to have removed from V-Tube, but she can tell that won’t be necessary.

“Come here.” She pats her lap, and after brief hesitation, he kneels down in front of her, resting his head on her knees. She runs her hand through his hair, tracing his ears with her fingertips before settling on softly scratching his scalp.

Earlier, she was afraid he would protest, maybe argue with her, deny what he did, but as long as she keeps scratching his head, he stays quiet, content, rubbing his face against her skirt, breathing in her scent.

“Promise me,” Madelyn says. “Promise me you won’t do this again. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I can get it for you. If you want a girlfriend, I’ll find you a nice, young woman your age. You don’t have to watch other people through the walls. I’ll make sure you have everything you need. I’ll take good care of you.”

As if to emphasize her words, she bends down to place a kiss on his cheek.

She can feel him shudder in her lap, but he knows it’s the end of their routine. He takes another deep, long breath as if he could somehow conserve the moment in his lungs.

“We’re issuing a statement,” she says as he gets to his feet. “Letting the public know you’ve been helping the FBI with a drug investigation.”

“Thank you, Madelyn. Thank you for always looking out for me.”

“We’re also telling the public that the investigation is over. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

He’s almost at her door when he turns around, a curious look on his face. “Did you know that babies don’t eat like we do?”

“Yes. Yes, Homelander.” Madelyn sighs. He’s been obsessed with babies lately. It’s an obsession she finds puzzling and irritating in equal parts. “Babies don’t eat solid food like us. They drink milk. They should have taught you that as part of your general curriculum in the lab.”

“Of course.” He waves his hand at her dismissively. There’s a smile, just for a fraction of a second. “What I mean is, they don’t eat three meals per day, like we do. They feed every hour or so. Some of them even stay latched on to their mother’s breasts all night long. They don’t really drink the whole time, you know. I guess they just like the feeling of having something in their mouth.”

“Yeah,” Madelyn says, impatient to get him out of her office. Now that this is settled, she can get back to work. “I suppose they do.”

He’s about to open his mouth again, but Madelyn knows how to shut him down. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” She smiles. He knows her impatient smile.

He hesitates for a second, then shakes his head.

Madelyn nods approvingly. “Alright. And remember, whatever you need, I can get it for you. All you have to do is ask.”

Madelyn sits back down behind her desk as he waves goodbye and stumbles out of her office.

Homelander is long gone by the time his last words fully sink in and she has to pause her typing because she’s suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. She can’t even say what exactly it is that she finds so disturbing about what she just realized. After all, it doesn’t really matter who’s behind that wall and what they are doing, whether they’re having sex or feeding a baby. All that matters is what gets caught on camera. Still. She's going to have to get ahead of this one this time.

She picks up the phone and calls 82.

#homelander x anonymous #homelander x madelyn stillwell #homewell #prompt: voyeurism #voyeurism tw #homelander's brain tw #cozy corner kinktober #the boys #my fic #disturbing stuff I wrote while stuck on a plane lol

[sitp-recs]

do you have any recs where draco is absolutely smitten with harry? i love your blog, thank you for doing an incredible job! <3

Thank you! I do have a few recs with smitten Draco, hope you enjoy:

Two Starts, One Finish by @lqtraintracks (2021, E, 5.4k)

I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

Lovesick by @corvuscrowned (2022, T, 7.6k)

People keep spiking Auror Harry Potter with love potions. Healer Draco Malfoy keeps having to pick up the pieces.

And Back Again (Where You Belong) by eidheann (2014, E, 16k)

He thought back on their previous handshakes, and smiled faintly at the fact they always seemed to mean so much more to him than they did to Potter.

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (2016, E, 18k)

Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call.

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by Cibee (2020, T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

Watch The Castles Burn by @moonflower-rose (2021, E, 21k)

Draco Malfoy knows better than to get involved with Harry Potter. If only someone would have reminded him of that six months sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be in quite such a large mess.

Waiting By An Open Door by Femme and noeon (2017, E, 29k)

Draco starts following Potterwatch secretly during the War. He wishes Potter would come save him too. But that sort of thing only happens in fairy tales, and Malfoys don't get fairy tale endings, do they?

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice by lettered (2012, E, 54k)

Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Finely Drawn Lines by @the-sinking-ship (2022, E, 61k)

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (2014, E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again.

The Light More Beautiful by firethesound (2014, E, 81k)

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter's help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn't been enough to dim Draco's obsession with him.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (2018, E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (2016, E, 113k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

By the Grace by lettered (2020, T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (2011, T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness. Pairings: HP/DM (Slash) Timeframe: 1994-2002 Goblet to 4 yrs post-DH EWE Rating T for language, high angst, content.

#asks #anon #drarry reclist #pining Draco

[vro0m]

What’s your opinion on the current narrative that Lewis is underperforming because he’s not motivated and he’s “checked out” since he’s leaving the team? Personally I don’t believe it and I find it absurd when his own fans say it. I think there’s more dignity in admitting your favourite driver made a mistake instead of using “oh but he doesn’t really care” as an excuse. And I think he gets discouraged quite easily which is something about him that’s always annoyed me, but that happened in the past years as well so it has little to do with this year specifically I think. But I have to say, while before China I was the same opinion as you as in “it’s too early to judge, the season is long” etc, I admit I’m starting to get “concerned” a little bit. We talk about a bad car that’s difficult to set up, but seeing Lewis make the same mistake twice on two consecutive laps on a circuit that he’s always done really well at was … not a nice feeling lol. After the sprint I was thinking that result was great because it surely would give him more confidence in the car, but no. He still felt the need to change the set up. I wonder if the performance gap between him and George (which is not as big as the results might suggest, but it’s significant considering Lewis’ standards) is starting to get in his head a little bit and that’s why he feels like over-do it all the time.

He's clearly trying things, which someone who's checked out wouldn't do

I'm personally not annoyed by him getting discouraged, it's human. I also get discouraged.

I think the concern comes from the fact that the situation hasn't changed since the start. But that's because the situation hasn't changed since the start. I'm waiting for the upgrade, I hope it goes in the right direction.

He did make a mistake but you also have to take into account that mistakes happen more often with unstable cars, it's not just him + a bunch of other drivers struggled with wind in that area of the track if you're talking about what I think you are

I again do not understand why he had to change the setup, at least I don't understand why he had to change it seemingly THAT MUCH but well I've already ranted enough about that

I wouldn't know if he's starting to get in his head about things but I worry that it might eventually happen, especially if he stops messing with the setup and still finds himself behind (aka if he runs out of things to, rightly or not, blame the gap on other than himself)

#vro0m's asks

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Kalon | Pt. 4

Beauty that is more than skin-deep.

Jimin x staff!reader

Summary : you have been working at hybe for/with BTS for a few years and have become great friends with them. Suddenly Jimin starts acting different with you and you can‘t help but get upset because you secretly have a crush on him:(

Genre/Tropes : angst, jealousy, friends to lovers (more like idiots to lovers tho), painful blindness of the two…

Word count : ~1.7K

A/N : I love when it snows with big fluffy snowflakes, it makes me think of snowflower<3 Do you like snow?

Series masterlist<3

<

The next day you enter BTS practice room unwillingly, your body clad in oversize joggers and a matching long sweatshirt that hid your body from any praying eyes, as you were commanded to collect Jimin for his outfit check, while the other staff got other boys. You considered asking one of the other staff to switch with you, but that would have started a rumor about you and Jimin being enemies or what not… although it did feel as if you were his enemy as of lately judging by the treatment you’d received not even 12 hours ago.

This morning Jimin managed to look even worse than he did last night, and he felt even worse than he looked if that was even possible.

“When did you come in last night? I don’t think I heard you” Namjoon was fulfilling his leaderly duty, questioning Jimin on his whereabouts.

‘I don’t remember because I lost track of time crying in the studio because I’m a total fuck up’ Jimin wanted to say as he looked into his friends caring eyes, but settled on a simpler explanation.

“I slept at the studio.”

“Jimin you can’t sleep in the studio when we’re practicing every day, you need some proper rest if you wanna do well” Jin waved his hands in the air. Jin wasn’t blind he’d seen the way his friend had been acting lately with you and with the band. Something was very wrong and if Jimin continued to ignore those around him it would become a huge problem that they did not need a few months before their tour.

Jin’s voice instantly aggravated Jimin. If this conversation had taken place weeks prior, Jimin would be apologizing to his elders and doing just as they told him. However the present Jimin hated his hyung with a passion, because he, without actually doing anything, proved Jimin that he was third-rate compared to Jin.

You come closer to the three boys lounging on the floor keeping your moves as quiet as possible to not irritate Jimin. Your heart is beating like crazy and your whole body is stiff as a rock when you finally approach them.

“Jimin could you please come with me for the outfit check?” you barely meet his eyes, scared to see the same expression from yesterday glaring at you making you feel no bigger than a pebble and no smaller than a whale at the same time…

Jin and Namjoon share a confused look.

Jimin doesn’t say a word, his eyes never leaving your face, which is sadly hidden behind your hair. He exhales deeply and gets up heading for the door.

Guilt is swarming him, all he wishes to do is apologize to you for what happened yesterday, to set things straight again. He could no longer fool himself that ignoring your existence or raining down on everyone around him was in any way comforting.

You also turn toward the door now that his eyes are no longer burning your face and take a step when a warm hand catches your arm.

Your eyes shift to a concerned expression on your best friends face.

“Are you alright?” Jin voice is smooth and soothing, like cool gel on burnt skin.

“I’m fine” you reassure him, not wanting to bring your friend into your mess.

You can see that Jin doesn’t really trust your words or your ‘reassuring’ smile and hesitantly lets go of your hand when you put your hand on his signaling him to let you go.

Jimin is standing at the door watching the scene, once again an outsider. Hurt and anger reach a boiling point in him again. Jin’s hand on yours and the way your eyes never left his face, it was all so angering to Jimin. His anger towards you two becomes sadness and his eyes gloss over with new unshed tears.

That is all he had ever wanted, that kind of warmth from you, being able to share glances and comforting touches with you… But he was not the kind of guy that you liked.

You liked a man like Jin, an older man, one that was tall, had a soft voice and a strong body and of course was undeniably handsome.

To Jimin, he was nothing like the man described and on top of all, a total wreck that couldn’t even treat his friend well.

The two of you walk wordlessly to the dressing room and you lead him to a room with his name plastered on the door. He enters after you, closing the door behind himself.

You quickly shuffle through racks of clothes searching for a particular one that you had to go over today, while Jimin awkwardly stands by the door trying to get a grip on his emotions.

You finally find the hanger that you were looking for and unzip it, checking out the outfit within.

Usually these outfit checks were a fun thing between you and Jimin. You’d joke around without any tension, even though he had to take his shirt of multiple times in front of you, but you always kept your composure, as did he.

Now you didn’t know how to approach him while holding the shirt in your hands. It was full of buttons on the front and back, ones that he’d not reach to fasten himself.

You let out a shaky exhale and Jimin takes notice of your anxious state and decides that he must somehow diffuse this tension or he’ll suffocate.

“Need me to put that one on?” he cringes when it comes out harsher than he intended due to his gravelly voice.

“Yes… please” you nod handing him the shirt, still not lifting your head.

He takes it from you, your hands gently brushing against one another and you retract your hand as if he’d burned you. A big sign leaves his lips and he turns from you to put the shirt on. It feels foreign to turn away from you, as if he was hiding something, when before he’d take his shirt off the moment you entered the dressing room only to see the scarlet shade emerge on your cheeks.

At the back of his mind he knew that he’ll never be able to make you blush, because now you had someone to who your heart belonged and your heart recognizes only that someone.

Jimin slips out of his t-shirt and stares at the buttoned shirt his mind going blank. He tries to unfasten the buttons, slide his head in but still finds no way to put his body inside the shirt.

The shirt is bunched into a frustrated ball in his hands as he approaches you. You finally lift your head to look at the shirt only to be met with Jimin’s naked chest.

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes widen jumping from his chest to his eyes. Jimin breaks into a grin seeing your shocked expression.

“Mind helping me a bit? I can’t seem to figure out how this works… it’s so weird…” he chuckles out of embarrassment and your heart finally stills, anxiety dissociating with every word he says to you.

“Yes, sure” the corners of your lips pull up slightly which makes Jimin’s heart come alive. You take the shirt from his hands and methodically unbutton the garment in seconds which makes him chuckle.

“That’s why you’re the best” he mumbles under his breath but you don’t catch a word too focused on putting the shirt on him.

“Just put your hands through here and turn around, I’ll button you up”

He obeys your commands without a second thought, turning his back to you once he’d put his hands in.

A gasp leaves your lips when his back comes into view. It’s fully littered with bruises of different sizes and colours, indicating that some were new ones and some dating back a few weeks.

“Jimin… your back... what happened to-o your back?” the words barely roll out of your mouth. The image already imprinted in your brain leaves distaste on your tongue.

“It’s nothing” he’s quick to disregard your care, feeling an absolute idiot for showing himself to you. He should have remembered the way his back looked after the extensive dance training he’d been doing.

“Jimin this is not nothing, it looks horrible” you try to get an answer from him but seem to steer him into the wrong direction.

“Well nobody asked you what it looks like. Don’t like it, don’t look.” He snarled at you, but you were not backing down this time.

“It’s not about how it looks visually, gosh Jimin what is up with you lately? You’re totally out of it and now your back? You have to tell me what’s wrong; I could help you, the boys care about you too. We’re all friends here so don’t push us away” you try knocking into his heart but Jimin only sees red at the mention of his band mates, because believe it or not his mind can only conjure an image of his hyung and you together being ‘friends’.

“You’re a staff Y/n. So just do your job and leave me alone.” he snaps at you, venom leaking from his words. You didn’t even notice when the bubbly atmosphere became a hellish cold with his words settling into your heart.

You step back from him creating distance, returning to your previous lone-sphere. Jimin lets out a frustrated sign and rips the shirt off of his body flinging it to the side before stomping out of the dressing room with his own t-shirt in hand.

You stumble back into a chair; your eyes adhered to the ruined shirt sitting on the floor of the now quiet room.

“What the hell…”

>

#bts #bts fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts f2l #bts jimin #jimin angst #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #park jimin #hurtcore #bts hurt/comfort

[away-ward]

Note: I think this is "The Will Post" people reference sometimes, but I'm not sure. Here and Here are the links to the original Anon messages.

This was the first time I'd received a message like this and I didn't know how to response. Eventually, it became the norm for people leave me ranty messages about this series and it's characters. I usually got a kick out of them because you guys are hilarious, and then I'd tried to answer seriously because I like discussion and discourse. So, I developed the method of answering that is seen on other posts. I just wanted to make clear why this one looks different. I wasn't trying to single them out or make an entire post about Will. Anyway.

On to the response!

Original response below, edited for grammar, spelling, and word choice. Some rephrasing, but essentially the same thoughts.

I think, first and foremost, it’s essential to get out of the way that to enjoy this series, you can’t look at any of the characters too closely. Because once you do, you’ll realize almost everybody here sucks in some way or another.  

That being said, let’s look at the characters way too closely.  

Anon, I organized your thoughts by character/relationships to make it easier to manage my thoughts and form a response. So, I'll take it individually instead of responding to each part directly as you wrote it. I don’t think I or anyone else can say anything that will change your mind, but as regards to how I approach the characters when writing them, these are my thoughts.

But thank you so much for reading my fics! The fact that people spend their time doing so is always such a big compliment, even if some of the things I wrote...didn't quite sit right with you.

Disclaimer: these are my thoughts and opinions and are in no way meant to be asserted as fact or canon. Thank you.

FYI, this is a long one, folks. Grab a drink before you start.

First up:   

Will and Alex  

You’re absolutely right that Will and Alex only knew each other for about five years when we got to Nightfall. I messed up when I wrote Reality and said seven years. I realized it about two to three weeks after posting it and never went back to fix it. Good catch.  

I see that you have a problem with Alex. That’s valid. I’m not entirely sure if it’s how I portray Alex and her relationship with Will or Alex from the source material that you have a bigger issue with. Still, I’ll try to explain my feelings about her beyond what I’ve said in other posts.   

Feel free to correct me if I get anything wrong because, honestly, I have disregarded most of what Alex has said and done. After all, it hardly ever matters to the plot. Like you, I have the viewpoint that Alex’s involvement in the story doesn’t affect anything and, more often than not, makes a scene worse. I can’t think of a single time when Alex did something one of the other characters couldn’t do.   

I think the timeline is that Will was arrested at 19 and released at 21/22. He would have met Alex soon after his release. It would be just a few months before the beginning of Corrupt. We first meet Alex through Michael. She comes off as confident and self-assured, in complete control of herself. She doesn’t hesitate to let Rika know she’s an escort when the opportunity arises. Her boldness gives off the feeling that she’s world-wise, with years of experience.   

The reality is that she’s the same age as Rika. Given this, she would have only been in this line of work for a few months to a year, if we consider her account of events to be accurate. It tracks that Alex would be reeling from losing her friends and scholarship. She didn’t just lose Aydin when her roommate betrayed her. Alex lost her entire support system, and her plans for the future. Maybe she did figure out how to land on her feet through sex work, but I don’t think she was completely content with it – at least not as much as she tries to appear to be. She always said it was temporary, not a forever job, and she planned on doing more once she graduated.   

Towards the beginning of their relationship, Will and Alex had a more casual approach to each other. While they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company, they weren’t close. But a year passes between Corrupt and Hideaway, and that is plenty of time to get to know someone and develop an intimate relationship. Their friendship deepens over time, but because of how the story is told with the reader only viewing this very narrow window of the character's lives during October every year, we don’t see much of that progress. We don’t know what significant moments these two have shared, what they’ve revealed to each other when it was four in the morning and no one else was around. I believe Will and Alex found solace in each other; peace they couldn’t find with anyone else available to them.  

We can see their progression over the years in small moments

In Corrupt, when Damon is being aggressive with Alex, Will laughs and leaves it alone. I think his feelings are that this is her job and she can handle herself. Damon is his friend. Will sides with Damon.

In Hideaway a year later, Will supports Alex in the shopping scene. His comment to Banks is pretty neutral but more positive than before.

Yet, in the third year of their friendship or relationship (whatever you want to call it), we see Will defending Alex against Damon.

Damon's petty words are nothing compared to the way Damon physically treated her just two years prior. Some might argue that Will is acting out of his anger towards Damon, and using Alex as a prop to do it. That's fair. Will isn't the most emotionally intelligent person at this point of the story.

I think it's a mixture of both. Will wants to hurt Damon by replacing him (with a girl nonetheless. The horror), but it's also that his relationship with Alex has changed. He cares for her more now than he did even a year ago. He won't tolerate Damon saying spiteful things to Alex.

In Kill Switch, when Damon is threatening war, Will is the one who brings up Alex. He sees value in her being at his side.

Anon, you asked how their friendship could be that deep if she didn’t know that Will was missing. I don’t have Conclave on me, so I could be wrong, but weren’t Will’s parents lying for him? First, he was actually globetrotting – posting pictures on social media from various locations. Then the lie was he was with some program to help in third-world countries? Either way, it’s entirely believable that it would take a while to figure out something wasn’t quite right with the story. Should they have figured it out earlier? Sure. It shouldn’t have taken his younger cousin to make his three closest friends aware that Will was missing.   

But in the Horsemen’s defense, they’re married with children and running businesses. And it’s not like they weren’t trying to reach him. 

At the end of Kill Switch, Damon talks about how they got him clean from drugs, but alcohol was a bigger issue. He also mentions that he's been leaving messages often, waiting for a response. Damon was mad that Will missed the birth of his son, and it's not like Damon wasn't trying to make Will aware that it was happening.

Damon tried. Will made the decision to leave without telling anyone and go to a location they wouldn't be able to find him, and then he arranged for his family to lie about his whereabouts. I think the boys have an excuse for not knowing something was up right away, and then for acting when they did.

The way Conclave focuses on other issues is not the character's fault; it's what the author wanted to focus on. But there's nothing to say that the characters didn't eventually get down to business and figure out what needed to be done to get to Will. I agree that that portion of events would have been a more interesting story and would have set us up beautifully for Nightfall, but I've digressed enough.

Getting back to Alex. I find that she tends to lean towards putting her pleasure above all else, unless the situation is dire, or she's been given a direct instruction by one of the other characters. She has moments where she takes things seriously, but for the most part she seems to flounce around with a childish air. And Will does most of the time as well, and maybe that’s why they gravitated towards each other. While Kai, Michael and the others are growing, Will is stuck and Alex is on a similar level. They leaned into each other, and this worked for a while. But then Will was ready to grow, and he knew he couldn't let them carry his weight any longer, Alex included. 

The bottom line, I don’t like Alex. I’ve never liked Alex. I was indifferent to her for a while, but Nightfall did her no favors in my eyes. In reviewing the series, I’ve come to dislike her even more. To use what you’ve said, Alex gives me the "ick." The way she naturally falls into coercing and manipulating people doesn't rub me the right away and never has. I'm not saying she's ever forced someone to do something they didn't want to do, but possibly things they'd rather not?

For instance, in Hideaway, we have this thought from Banks about how Alex coerced her into drinking during the sleepover scene. Banks, while wanting to enjoy a "normal" life, also felt it was important to keep her wits about her when around Kai. So Alex "coercing" her to drink feels like she ignores what people want so that she can have a good time.

Again, in Hideaway, Alex as pulled Lev, I believe, away from his post so that she can try to sleep with him. Same as before, Lev wasn't opposed to the idea of sleeping with Alex, but he had a job to do, and that moment was not the time. Alex ignored that because wanted what she wanted. And like a child, she wanted it there and then.

(I mean, I guess the argument could be made that Alex was the only one who could have helped Banks tap into her femininity because Banks hated everyone else, especially Rika but still. I don’t like the way she behaves in general.)

But when I’m writing about these characters – especially when the setting for a fic is in the canon universe – I don't want to ignore PD intended for their relationship. They wanted Will and Alex to have a deep connection different from what he shared with the others. I’m not convinced it was ever meant to be romantic, but it was meant to be deep.  

I think you’re also correct in saying that Will used his friendship with Alex to soothe and distract from the pain of what happened between him and Damon.   

Which brings us to our next part.   

Will and Damon  

I think it’s a bit harsh to say Damon was always a tool to distract Will from reality. I believe Will quite liked his reality in high school. He was privileged, wealthy, attractive, athletic, popular, and had a good home life. The only thing missing was the girl of his dreams, and he was delusional enough to think it was only a matter of time before she came to him. There was nothing to distract from. Will enjoyed every second of it. He loved the drinking, the partying, the sex, and the camaraderie between his friends and teammates. He lived for it. 

He never wanted to leave it.  

And I think Damon loved Will. He wanted to keep Will “safe” inside this little bubble where nothing could hurt him or take away his joy. Damon wanted Will to be happy, as long as Will's happiness didn't take him away.   

The second Will started talking about Emory like she was different from the other girls was the second Damon began to hate her. Because Emory had the ability no one else had: she could either take Will away from him or destroy Will. And Will would let it happen because he’s full of love, and he's soft.   

And that’s precisely what happened when Emory and Will did finally connect, as Damon knew it would.   

Damon did know Will. He knew what he liked, what he wanted, how he thought. He probably understood Will better than Will understood himself. Which is how he knew exactly what to say and what do to hurt Will.    

That's why Damon was sick at the thought of losing him, completely out of his mind with grief at what he’d done. That's why when Damon thought of leaving, all he wanted was to take was Winter, Banks, and Will.

I’d dare to say it’s Michael and Kai that Damon doesn’t care about all that much. Not that he hates them. He’d kill for them. Walk through fire for them. Go to prison rather than rat them out for a lighter sentence. But there’s something in Will that Damon wanted to protect and keep.  

The problem was Damon's a little control freak in the worst way. This means he goes way too far in doing anything. His whole redemption arc is learning how not to do that with literally everything and still be okay. The little weirdo.  

I’m not a Damon apologist, if there is such a thing. Damon’s trauma and redemption arc doesn’t do anything for me. I also don’t think it's any excuse for his actions before then. I won’t deny that he does add to the series for me. Most of the time, if Damon was there, I was paying attention, whether I liked him or not.   

I’ve said it elsewhere, but I would have loved for his redemption arc to be the last part of the series because it makes more sense as a conclusion. To read Nightfall, not knowing if he was going to be a real villain by the end of the series, would have made his scenes with Emory and the other characters all the more chilling,  

But the story is what it is, and again, I don't want to ignore what PD was trying to do with Damon and Will, so when I write about the two of them, where one is, the other follows.   

On a side note, PD did an excellent job of introducing the potential bond that Damon and Emory would eventually share. They can relate to each other on multiple levels: 

The abuse. 

The love for Will. 

Their artistic visions. 

The way they covered for each other when they didn’t need to. 

Their bond would be much stronger than Em’s with Alex, and I wish the fandom focused on it more.   

Besides

Moving on.

Will   

You’re right when you say that Will was doing all those things before he went to prison, before he almost died, and before Damon left him.   

The main difference is that he was doing it for fun before all of that. He didn’t need to do it; his life didn’t revolve around it. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence but more of an occasional thing. Once Emory broke his heart and his friends left for college, we see him start to spiral just a little   

And that was after only losing Emory.

He needed his life at TBP to stabilize, and once his support system was gone, he couldn’t cope. And I like to focus on that aspect of Will. He was weak and soft before because he’d never faced a real challenge. His privilege, and later Damon, prevented him from experiencing any difficulties, doing him a disservice. When change was on the horizon, Will didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know who he was outside of being a rich teenager. And had things gone along without interruption, he probably would have continued down that path, either never growing up completely or eventually OD’ing.   

Going to prison might have saved his life, and if Damon hadn’t betrayed him, he might have been okay.  

Except Damon did betray him. So, he started spiraling again, this time worse than before, because now he didn’t even have his friends to fall back on. He couldn't go a day without getting drunk or high. As Banks said, he was only sober long enough to get to his fridge. Nothing was good. His two remaining friends didn’t like how he was acting, and they were moving on without him. The girl of his dreams didn’t care that he went to prison for her – she didn’t even call! (Note: I'm not made about this; it's just Will's feelings on the subject). Rika wasn’t the revenge he was hoping for, and now he didn’t even have that to look forward to. All he really had going for him was the approval he received from Alex.   

I haven’t considered how much Alex had a hand in things. I want to think that since they were new friends, she took an “it’s not my place to tell him what to do; his friends will step in if it goes too far” position. At the same time, I can see her encouraging him because it’s what she wanted to do to cover her own pain and fear. Again, because we don’t get moments outside these high-intensity situations, we don’t really know how their friendship works.   

But even so, a person’s early twenties are turbulent, to begin with, and Will had to learn how to cope with losing Emory, going to prison, nearly dying, and losing his best friend all within a matter of a few years.   

The fandom talks a lot about Damon’s trauma, but we ignore entirely that between the four boys, Will comes in a close second for the most traumatized. All his trauma is fresh, and in a short period of time.    

He was an active participant in his own downward spiral. He hid his pain behind a mask of smiles and good times, which carried him through until it didn't work anymore. Furthermore, he knew when Damon came back, he had no more excuses. The thing about relationships is that they require good communication and mutual respect, neither of which Will had. Mainly because he didn’t respect himself. With his friends' help, Will kicked his drug habit. It’s possible that with the clarity that came with it, he saw himself dragging his friends down. His friends were starting families and business, but he was still stuck. Kai said it best when he said Will never did anything on his own, and that was true until Will decided to go to Blackchurch.

So, they would have no reason to suspect that Will was doing anything other than what he said – traveling the world and figuring things out. But Michael, Kai, and Damon hadn't abandoned him. They were trying. Will was the one who left them hanging.   

To expect his friends to respect and trust him, and to develop some respect and trust in himself, he had to grow up. But his friends cut him a lot of slack. They let his stupid mistakes go unchecked and unpunished because it’s Will. I think in their eyes, he never meant any harm, or he was young and dumb, or he was hurting. They gave him a million excuses because they loved him. They weren’t strong enough to be the firm hand and give him the tough love he needed. Before anyone else, Will realized what he needed, and knew he couldn’t get it from his friends. Beyond that, he was too embarrassed to ask for it, to be seen as weak to them. Because everyone looked at their group and saw Will as the weak link, Will began to see himself that way too. And he was right. 

The Will before Emory and the Will after prison are two different people. I guess it’s up to the reader to decide who is more authentic. I choose to see Will before Emory as the real him, Will after prison, a mask he wears to keep from being hurt again, and Will during Blackchurch as someone stripped down to their barest form. He’s lost before Emory shows up, not knowing whether he can return to the real world and start again. It takes some prompting from Emory to get him moving and feeling like himself. And after Blackchurch, we see the Will from high school begin to resurface. 

I’m not sure where I’m going with this thought. But I think all the things you’ve complained about regarding Will are why he went to Blackchurch. He wanted to quit the drugs and drinking permanently, so he could grow up and be the person his friends needed. Then they wouldn’t have to pull his weight. I hated Will through most of the series because of his actions, the way he treated Banks and Winter specifically. Once I realized he was hiding all that heartbreak and pain, his motives and actions became more obvious. Again, pain is not an excuse to hurt anyone, but we are reading about imperfect characters who make mistakes and rarely, if ever, take the high road.

I’d say that part of the story is that when others hit low, they go lower. They’ll go to hell if it means getting one over on anyone who's pissed them off.  

They’re petty.  

All of them.  

The Horsemen   

  

I love friendships. Especially strong ones. Ones that don’t make sense on the surface. The kind of friendships where you know if it weren’t for unconditional love and loyalty, these people would probably stab each other multiple times, but instead they'll stab anyone who hurts them.

The problem with the Horsemen is that because they are supposed to focus on the four romances, we don’t get much of their friendship. PD gives us small glimpses here and there, and then says, “Just trust me, they’re brothers.” However, that leaves a lot to be desired when the entire plot hinges on them practically dying for each other every other year. 

But I’ve read other books about solid relationships. I’ve watched shows with the same dynamic. The idea of a unique foursome with an unparalleled bond isn’t unheard of by any means. It's an old trope. So, I can fill in the gaps.  It’s sometimes irritating to have to do that when I shouldn't have to. For instance, I have no idea what would happen if I put Emory and Michael alone in a room together. None. They stand in separate corners and don’t talk to each other, and this is because their relationship receives zero development. If you’re going to tell me that this group is a close, chosen family, willing to die for each other; that they loves and need each other, and that each member of the family (everyone from Michael their leader, to Emory the most recent addition) provides something critical to make the family work, then I need to see it. I need to feel it. But if I can't determine how two people in this family would interact, then something is missing.

But I have the ability to add what isn’t there, and to pull inspiration from other sources to fill-in what PD clearly intended. (If there's one thing about Devil's Night, is the potential for Head Canons galore!)

As you said, Anon, there were many times when their problems could have been solved by communication. However, I don’t think communication was a skill any of these men developed. Especially when admitting they were wrong, or talking about their feelings, or showing any sign of weakness in front of each other. Pride is a cruel master; it will trip you up if you give it a chance. But I don’t think their faults were a lack of love for each other.   

Michael was overly cautious where Will was reckless, which often caused disagreements. Michael acknowledged this in Corrupt. I still think there is plenty of evidence that they cared about each other and knew each other on a deeper level. I get why you’d say they didn’t care about Will, but if we only look at the one time Will jagged left when he usually goes right, it’s understandable that they’d be a little slow to react.

I mean, think about them being on a team in high school. If Will always preferred to shoot from a certain position, then Michael and the others would work to put him in that position. They’d get the ball to him. But what if he suddenly decided to be on the other side of the court? Then they’d be throwing the ball to an empty spot, because that’s where Will always was before. Just because Will did something he’s never done before doesn’t mean they don’t know him.

They didn’t expect Will to pull the Blackchurch maneuver for the same reasons I mentioned above:  

Will never did anything on his own.  

He went traveling first, either because he needed to or with the purpose of disappearing. After that, he quickly switched gears without telling anyone.

He had his family lie about it. It was probably his grandfather dispensing information, and who's going to call Senator A.P. Grayson out? 

As I said before, if you look at these characters too closely, you’ll find that nothing is redeeming about any of them. But they sure are fun.

I think?  

I don’t know anymore. Are we having fun? ARE YOU???  

Emory... versus the world?

Emory learned to think on her feet through trial and error with Martin. Unlike Will, she had to learn to survive, which made her think things through before making a decision. Of course, it made her too wary and overly defensive at times. One wrong step and she could have lost her life to Martin losing control.  

Emory had a plan to survive, to eventually escape. It didn't include falling for a pretty boy with pretty words. She knew, as good as it sounded and as much as she wanted it, any plan that Will came up with to save her and her grandma could have gone sideways real fast. She made the decision that had the best chance of succeeding, because it relied on her alone. She made the decision out of fear, but I don’t think that fear was misplaced. Hating her because she was forced to make that decision is dumb.

I will say she gave Will mixed signals. But...she was young and emotional and he was the one good thing in her life outside her grandma. I can't blame her for being human and needing him, but it's not wrong to hold her accountable for that.

Just like it's not wrong to hold Will accountable to the fact that he didn't listen for the three years she tried to warn him to stay away. Just like it's not wrong to hold him accountable for pushing her when she had previously said no.

I believe I’ve said this elsewhere, but I don’t know where. I don’t understand Alex and Emory’s relationship. I don’t get why Alex was so friendly with Emory when they first met and then judged her for not being around when Will was hurt. Either she understood Emory’s struggle, or she didn’t. Either way, one of these scenarios doesn’t make sense.  

As for Aydin - I don’t care about Aydin. I hated him. I still hate him. I hate that he’s barely three years older than Emory, kidnapped her, messed with her mind, forcibly kissed her to make Will and Alex jealous (which is still considered a form of sexual assault, by the way), and she still wanted to consider him a mentor. I don’t care that he was more valuable as an ally. I thought their bond was too strong after a week to be taken that seriously.

I mean, Anon, you’re criticizing the bond between the Horsemen even though they’ve known each other for over a decade, but Emory's known Aydin for all of five days, and that’s all it takes for her to need him and understand him? Because she realized he’d be better as their ally against the families? Because she's smart? I call BS on this entire thing. This was one of the weakest storylines in my opinion and I mentioned on another post how I think it could have been helped just a little bit if Aydin had been older. It wouldn't have fixed it! But I could have tolerated it more. I stand by that.

I still don’t know what Aydin brought to the table that Micah or Rory didn’t. He's there because of only because of Alex, so to favor him while despising her also doesn't make sense to me. They're literally the same.

Anon, are you talking about how other fans treat Emory like she’s the worst character because she hurt Will? When literally all of these characters have hurt each other—all of them. The only characters we don't see taking actions that hurt another are Emory toward any other character that isn't Will, and that's because there isn't time. The series ended before we could see Emory interact with any of them, and all their major problems were over. There was no opportunity, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't have if the series had been ordered differently. So, if people are hating on Emory for hurting Will alone, then they're probably biased toward one of the other girls (probably Alex). Not saying that readers can't dislike Emory for other reasons. She won't be for everyone and I'm sure there are valid reasons to dislike her. For me, she was the one I could relate to the most out of the main four, and I really felt for her struggles. She had the most realistic character arc, and her finding her way back to Will made the most sense over Rika, Banks, Winter, and even Alex with Aydin.

Anyway, those are my thoughts on everything you said. Somewhere along the way, I lost track of what I was actually attempting to say. Regarding my way of writing specifically, since I'm filling in voids and holes that I felt were too unanswered, I tried to remain as close to canon as I could. Not necessarily what was there, but what was intended. I don't always keep them in character as PD wrote them, but I try to get the same vibe.   

This means, even though I don’t like Alex, I know Will likes her. So when I write about Will, she’s sometimes there too, and it's sometimes positive.

***

Anyone is welcomed to share their thoughts...if you're brain's not numb by now. If it is, I understand. Thanks for making it this far and listening to my rambling.

-KO

#devil's night series stuff #asked and answered #asked and answered 11 #the horsemen of devil's night #the women of devil's night #devil's night series #debated putting DN tag in because this is a lot #let me know if I should remove it #I don't write essays #I just wanna write pretty words and characters smooching