#and what i like about this book is that neither guy is actually possessive of charlotte or thinks he has the right to her or whatever
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the sorrows of young werther could've been avoided if all three of them just dated each other send tweet
#charlotte clearly loves both albert and werther :(((((#and what i like about this book is that neither guy is actually possessive of charlotte or thinks he has the right to her or whatever#i mean aside from werther and his deteriorating obsessive thoughts#because werther was more like oh albert doesn't deserve her if he prefers to do literally anything other than hang out with her#but albert specifically stays away when werther comes over not bc he dislikes him but bc he felt his presence would burden werther too much#and every time werther thinks poorly of albert he catches himself and tries to stop bc that's his friend and charlotte's beloved :(#even when albert was like maybe we should cut ties with werther. it was more out of concern once werther was too far gone#aough this book :(#and i still haven't read the very end yet
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Oooh how about Yandere Miguel who locks his s/o away in an apartment like place (it's actually really nice) that's hidden somewhere in the spider society headquarters that only he knows about because he's extremely possessive and he's afraid of them getting hurt. Since they are just a regular human being, there's not much they can do about it. When he checks on them he's all loving and sweet but he's still very controlling. Maybe Miles or Gwen accidentally finds them and attempts to rescue them and Miguel gets PISSED.
Don’t Think You Can Escape
✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miles and Gwen continue to run from the Spiders, but at a dead end, they come across something neither of them knew.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Love Taste feat. Jamie Paige & Shiki” by Moe Shop. I’ve got an announcement! Celebrating the movie’s release, I will be releasing my own Miguel O’Hara book! Be on the lookout. Anyways, requests will remain open for a few more days before I close them. You guys have the best ideas!
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 2.6k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst, pet names (Amor, baby), blood, bruising, branding, violence, talk of marriage, threats, death, choking…
“This way!” Gwen shouted, dodging the incoming webbing from the other Spider members.
Miles followed her closely, following her and taking turns that she thought she was familiar with but it led them to a dead end. His head snapped in the direction of their shouts.
Gwen’s gizmo was tossed a while ago, realizing that there may be a chance of a tracker, she didn’t want to take any chances.
“What now?” MIles heavily panted, their voices getting louder by the second.
She takes a second to think, she places her hand on the wall as support but it lights up. She could hear rumbling on the other side, like something turning. She pounded her fist against the metal wall and it was clear that it was hollow.
“Miles, help me open this.” She said.
“Are you sure?”
“We don’t have any other option.”
“Alright then.”
Miles stood on one side and Gwen on the other, they both used their webbing to force the hidden, metal doors open. Both of them loudly grunt as the doors slowly opened.
“One three.” Miles nodded, “One… Two… THREE!”
The two simultaneously jump in at the same time, practically tackling each other. The doors slammed shut with a loud bang and soon, they could hear other voices up against the door. It made his heart drop, yet he relaxed when the voices dispersed.
Gwen stood up first, taking off her hood and mask to take a good look around, “What is this place?” Miles asked her.
She hesitated in shrugging, “I’m… I’m not sure. I don’t think I saw this place on the map.”
“Didn’t think the gizmo had a map.” He stood as well, “Could it be another sector?”
This time, she shrugged, “It clearly wasn’t labeled, otherwise we’d be caught by now.”
“Okay then, what now?”
Gwen looked forward and into the dark but barely lit tunnel, “We keep moving forward.” She walked into it.
“I’ll follow your lead.” Knowing that Gwen knew the headquarters better than him.
The two walk through the long, narrow hallway. It made Gwen shiver and keep her guard up. But she kept her sights forward, following a light that seemed to be peeking out from under the door.
Their footsteps rang and Miles swears he could hear his heart racing. As much as he enjoyed a break from being chased, he began to worry. What happens now? How will he get out? What about Gwen?
All kinds of questions raced through his head… Was either of them going to get out of here?
“Miles!” Gwen looked back at him, worried, “I know that you’re panicking but I need you to focus, everything will be alright.”
“Will it?” Miles huffed, arms crossed, “You saw how freaked Miguel was. There’s no way out of this, I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Hey, we’re in this together. Okay?”
Miles takes a deep breath, “Okay.”
“Besides, we can think of something when we’re inside.”
Miles stopped in his tracks, “Insid-?” A door. Windows, a few feet from the door, pitch black and barred.
“I think this might be the place Peter was talking about.” Gwen smiled, walking up to the door.
“He knew about this?”
“It’s more like suspected. He saw Miguel disappear a couple of times and believed he had a secret place to get away, this must be it.” Slowly she twisted the doorknob.
Miles reached out and grabbed her wrist, “Then are you sure we should be sneaking into a place where Miguel visits.”
“I said suspected. It’s a chance this may now be it and besides, he’s too busy running around the base looking for us.” She ignored Miles’ protest and opened the door, it was unlocked, “Now that’s suspicious.” She mumbled.
The two enter the room. Both of them were awed.
It was like a normal home, furnished well, like any other home. The home smelled freshly cleaned, but plates and cups were set on the table, like someone was expecting guests. While Gwen looked around the rooms, Miles’ attention was to the photos.
It was Miguel, along with a woman. He followed the array of photos. At first, the woman seemed to be happy but as the photos went on and on, he could see it in her eyes… Fear, fear and more fear.
“I always knew Miguel was crazy but-”
“No.” Gwen immediately retorted.
“Didn’t you see the photos, he’s obviously obsessed with this woman.”
“It can’t be him.”
Miles sighed, “Gwen it’s him. This is probably the home to bring her to the base.”
“That’s the thing, she’s already here.” Gwen pointed to a room, “I saw her when looking around, sleeping soundly, too soundly.” It remained silent between the two.
His head snapped to the direction of the door opening, “Hide!” She harshly whispered, pushing Miles into what seemed to be a guest room, and shoving him into the closet.
Miguel entered the home with a heavy huff, slipping off his mask and his hair puffed up a little. He runs his hand through his hair a couple of times before calling out, “(Y/n)! I’m home!” But all he is met with is silence.
But that’s when he hears the slow footsteps, “Miguel?” You groggily spoke, “You’re home early.”
“Actually, I’m home on time. Did you sleep?” You tiredly nod, “Did you just wake up?” You nod again, “Awe, my poor baby.” He cooed, welcoming you in his arms.
But you’re too tired to push him away, the house was freezing and you needed something warm. You felt one hand come to your neck and his claws lightly dragged over where used to be your-
“Where’s your necklace?” He demanded the second he felt the open skin, “Where is it?” He growled.
“I-I took it off.” You managed to say, scared that he may dig his claws into you.
“Why?” His voice was like a growl, dark and deep.
“Because it was hurting my neck, it left a bruise.” You cowered. Your necklace was more like a choker. It was mainly black but it had red and blue stripes, along with gold ornaments.
It wasn’t because of the pain you took it off, it was because his last name was engraved on it. It made you feel worthless, like someone’s property. Before you took it off, you began pulling off the small gold pieces and then when he wasn’t home, you tore it into pieces. Hopefully telling Miguel that you didn’t need it or that there was no need.
“You should’ve told me sooner.” His voice returned to normal as he released you from his arms.
“But I did.” You mumbled.
“Where is it?”
“One the dresser.” You watch him enter the bedroom and come back a few moments later, the choker in hand.
“Must’ve been hurting you a lot.” Miguel can see little droplets of blood left behind, “Don’t worry about it.”
You let out a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get a new one.” Your heart dropped, “I was thinking about it for a while.”
“Do you think I could go with you?” Your hurriedly asked, “If I can chose a-”
“No.” He sighed, “I said it before and I’ll say it again. You stay here, why can’t you understand that?”
“I’ll stay with you-”
“No!” He shouted, “I’ve given you everything! A home, food, clean clothes! Aren’t you grateful for everything I did for you?!”
Your eyes begin to water, “O-Of course I am!”
“Then why don’t you just listen to why I say no?!”
You jump, “Miguel…” You whimper, “You’re scaring me.”
His blood red eyes soon turned to his beautiful brown ones, they softened, “Perdóname, amor.” (Forgive me, love.) One hand comes to cup your face, “It’s just… It’s dangerous out there, you saw it yourself. Remember?”
“I do…”
“I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”
“...Why would you hurt me?” You begin to panic, “I-I thought you said-!”
“That I wouldn’t hurt you. I mean it, but when it comes to breaking the rules I set, I must do what needs to be done. I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs. Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.” He kissed your forehead, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I love you.”
His grip on your face tightens when he doesn’t hear the words, “I-I love you too, Miguel.”
It made him smile widely, “Be patient for me, amor. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
And with that, he’s out of the door. Hearing the doors lock, you’re left alone in the empty and freezing house.
You cry on the spot, finally breaking in fear. Your body felt uncomfortably hot, your breathing became staggered and it felt like you were gonna vomit. Your arms wrapped around your body tightly that your nails dug into your sides. Your chest grew right as you fell to the tile floor. Shaking and hyperventilating, your stomach churned as you remembered his words.
“I’ll just have to cut off your beautiful legs… Breaking them wouldn’t be enough.”
Who knows how long you remained on the ground, all you could do was shake. Your chest stung and your heart raced, you were in pain all over again.
“Um, (Y/n)? Was it?” You let out an audible gasp as you saw the two teens in the room.
You pushed yourself off the ground and hurried away from them, “Wait!” Gwen put her hands up, “We’re just here to help. I’m Gwen and this is Miles.”
“Who are you- How did you get in here?!” You choke on your words, wiping the tears from your red eyes.
“We’re just running from the same man.”
You quickly shake your head, “You guys can’t be here!”
“We would’ve left sooner but… We can’t just leave you here.” Miles kneeled in front of you, “Let us help you.”
“Y-You can’t!”
“Yes we can.” Gwen agreed, “We just gotta pack up and get on out of here. I can get that started. Miles, watch her in case Miguel comes back.”
“How did get like this?” Miles asked, “I saw the photos.”
“...I met him after he lost his daughter and I didn’t think it was right for him to try to get into dating so soon but people grieve in different ways. We were supposed to take things slow but… But he talked about marriage and it made me scared. I tried taking a break but he found me. From then on, it went downhill.”
“I always knew he was crazy.” Miles mumbled.
“He’s great at manipulating people, he owns a business.” You responded. Then you heard a thud outside, “Miles, hide.” You push him away, not knowing where he went.
The door opened and in comes Miguel who doesn’t look pleased, “I heard them.” He starts, “No, I heard him.” He stepped closer, the choker nowhere to be seen, “Where is he?”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You clear your throat.
“¡No me mientas!” (Do not lie to me!)
“I’m not lying!” You moved back when he reached out to you, “Please, believe me Miguel!”
“Last time I did, you ran out on me! I have every nerve to not believe you.” He pushed you up against the wall, “Where is he?!”
“Leave her alone!” Miles comes around and lands a clean kick, knocking Miguel off of you, “Are you alright?”
“Miles…”
Miles puts on his mask, “Gwen will be right behind you-!” He dodged Miguel’s webbing, “Just run!” Then he charged at Miguel, taking him head on, “Go!”
You got up and rushed out the door, “(Y/n)!” You heard Miguel, “Get back here!”
You run faster. Your bare feet are padding quickly across the cold, metal floor. Then faster and faster until you nearly run into the wall. Whatever hopes you had are nearly gone when you realize that it’s just a dead end.
“(Y/n)!” You heard Gwen, she lands next to you, “I need you to listen to every word. I’m going to open the door and let you out, but it’s impossible for me to go with you. But! There are others out there, they are willing to help you. Just run and I promise you that someone will come for you.”
“What about Miles?” She hands you to the bag she quickly packed.
“I’m heading there once I know you’re out of there.” Using her webbing, she does the same as before, forcing one side of the door open. She grunts loudly, “Go!”
You jump, tumbling on your feet as you hear the door shut. The sound rang through the base and all that was left was silence. Even on the other side of the door. Nothing could be heard.
You stand, looking around. There was not a single person in sight. But you continued walking, walking, and walking… You continued to replay Gwen’s words in your head, not wanting to give up hope. But slowly it died as you continued wandering aimlessly around the base.
“Lonely isn’t it?” You gasp, freezing in place. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to, “Just like how it’s going to be when you leave. All alone and there is no one to turn to.”
You scoff, keeping your back to him, “I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than spend one more minute with you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes I do!”
“Come with me and I’ll forget this ever happened, we’ll have a fresh start. Or you can continue with these foolish games. You know that you’re better with me than without me.” Miguel sticks his hand out for you to take.
For every step you take back, he takes on towards you, “How will I know things would be different?”
“You gotta trust me to know.”
You breath hitched when you felt your back hit the wall. Miguel towered over you with ease, and you hated the look in his eyes. Sorry… You hated how soft and apologetic his eyes looked. It also terrified you.
“Where’s Miles and Gwen?” You ask him now that he’s in front of you, “Where are they?”
“You have the nerve to ask me that right now?”
“I do!” You retorted, “Now where are they?” You demanded.
Miguel sighs, “They are in a place where they won’t bother us nor say anything.”
“You didn’t!”
“It had to be done!”
“You bastard! They were kids!” You dropped the bag and pushed him as hard as you could which had no effect on him, “They’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You weren’t there!”
“So?! That doesn’t give you the right to kill innocent children-!”
Miguel’s hands came around your neck in an instant, you felt the heavy pressure. Panic sets in, trying to breathe, doing anything you could do to get his hands off and breathe. Your eyes rolled back as your vision darkened. Your attempts to kick or push Miguel off fail.
Then he throws you at another wall, the pressure knocks whatever air was left and he watches you have a coughing fit. You’re too weak to even crawl away from him when he kneels down, “Why must you be so difficult? Why don’t you understand? After all these years, you still don’t understand that I am the only person who will ever love you.”
© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without permission.
#x reader#x female reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#spiderman x you#spiderman 2099#spider man#across the spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman x y/n#spiderman 2099 x reader#spider man x y/n#spider man x reader#spider man x you#spiderverse#spider gwen#miles morales#tw yandere
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NIKTO HEADCANONS (but realistic)
TW: sexual themes, acute dissociative disorder mentioned, this man has definitely been through a lot.
A/N: I don't think I need to say this, but these headcanons are strictly from my perspective. Like many other people here, I enjoy writing for this character, and I have a lot of projects for the future. Anyway, y'all enjoy!
→ He loves cup noodles. He gives the vibes of eating them because they are quick to make and saves him a lot of time. But he’s skilled in the kitchen. Dmitry once founded him cooking in the kitchen’s base in the middle of the night. A glance from him was enough for Dmitry to turn around and walk away with another secret to hide.
→ He’s friendly only in private and only with his team, and obviously Sputnik. He feels comfortable around them, and he laughs only with them. He doesn’t hang out though. He doesn’t like public spaces at all.
→ Diagnosed with Acute dissociative disorder which may include symptoms of other dissociative disorders including dissociative identity disorder (source). This means that he experienced episodes where he dissociated, but since it’s acute, he had short but severe episodes (no, he’s not out of his mind). In my opinion, he doesn’t take any meds, or he would be discharged from the service. But he probably has periodic sessions with a therapist.
→ Possessing a hyena pet helped him find some balance in his life. For him, it’s like having a common dog, it doesn’t make any difference for him. He always finds it amusing when he uses him to scare Rodion, making him scream like a teenager. That’s how he discovered that Rodion doesn’t like anything that resembles a dog, even if Sputnik is a hyena. And he obviously uses this knowledge to his advantage.
→ He is neither hyposexual nor hypersexual (no, he’s not a pervert either). He actually has a normal relationship with sex and all the things that comes with. He doesn’t like sex without feelings. But if it needs it, he definitely jerks off at night.
→ He prioritize trust above everything, if he’s interested in someone. It will probably take him months to trust someone. Definitely a lot of trust issues, he’s really careful when he meet someone new.
→ Definitely not a religious person. He went through so much in his life that he’s more of a ‘realist’ person. He doesn’t think that there is a god, at all.
→ With the right person, he can be very protective: he has the ‘scary dog privilege’, and no one would definitely mess around with a masked big guy all dressed in black (most of the times).
→ He’s a reserved person and he appreciate the silence, especially if someone respect his own silence. Conversations with him can lead to a whole bunch of different topics at a deep level, and he loves when someone actually understand what he’s saying. He has a lot of knowledge and he used to read a lot of books, especially when he was a teen, and even more growing up and when he was recovering from his trauma. He still reads, and when he isn’t going to be deployed in a short time, he reads a lot during the night.
→ His trauma led him to a lot of insomnia, and a lot of nightmares when he actually manage to fall asleep. So, he usually goes for a walk, or he goes training, trying to take his mind off things.
→ Panic attacks are an occurrence, but he learned to acknowledge the symptoms even before it happens. He usually walks back to his room, finding the silence the thing that calms him the most. When he can’t go back to his room, the rest of the team usually has his back, and always managing to work something out. Every time they find a different solution, and that’s what helps him.
→ No one knows his past (and maybe it's better this way). Only Kamarov knows that he had to endure some bad shit back when he was a teenager. I can imagine living his years with her babushka before enlisting in the military. He doesn’t care about his parents since he lived in a toxic environment. Definitely doesn’t talk about it at all.
#nikto#call of duty#call of duty nikto#nikto x reader#nikto mwii#mwii nikto#nikto cod#cod nikto#cod mw#cod mw19#cod headcanons
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Of Magic and Mating
Looking back over all the movies and specials, it seems to me that trolls are very magical creatures, whether they realize it or not. They are so magical that other species can actually make use of that magic. Velvet and Veneer could draw upon the trolls’ musical talent and the confidence to use it. The bergens did much the same thing, except their way of absorbing whatever makes a troll so magically “happy” was much cruder, by just eating them whole.
Maybe because of their generous natures, I feel that the trolls are open to being used by others. I got the distinct feeling that Floyd had befriended a shy Veneer and somehow given him a bit of his musical ability/confidence. Then Velvet found a way to exploit Floyd’s good will, which is why he was so bitter and sarcastic later on, having been betrayed by this “friends.” Thankfully, Veneer proved to be Floyd’s friend in the end, and turned against his sister.
My point is that rolls are steeped in magic. Their hair tends to be the main repository of it. They can move, stretch, and shape their hair. They can use it as an extra hand or foot, for travel, and object manipulation. They can change its color and texture to make it look like other things, like bushes for camouflage. They can use it to store items and carry babies. From what we’ve seen, they also create babies within their hair.
Now we learn that trolls can procreate with other species. Most likely due to their magical hair somehow making them compatible. It is worth noting that Bruce’s children are not trolls, though. He only seemed able to help her reproduce. Unless Brandy’s species can also self-clone, like Guy Diamond did with Tiny.
But if she does need a mate to produce babies, maybe his hair gave her the ability to self-clone like a troll. Maybe even produce eggs – which would explain why they had so many kids. I’d imagine Brandy would be delighted not to have to go through traditional pregnancies, lol. Or maybe Bruce’s hair actually produced their egg-babies.
That leads to the question of whether or not trolls have other reproductive organs, like humans (and possibly bergens) do. They probably don’t need them, but I like to think at least some have them, just for fun and frolicsome times 😉 Oh, so many questions…
On cloning… Poppy mentions DNA at one point, so genetics must have some effect in the trolls’ world. Branch and Poppy’s siblings look similar but not identical to them; brothers and sisters, not clones. Did each set of siblings truly come from a single parent? Then what about how some trolls seem to have two parents, like Cooper and Prince D’s parents? Their sons are twins who share identical coloring, but neither matches their parents. That suggests two-parent mating, not cloning.
Maybe it’s optional. Some animal species in our world can either self-clone or mate with others, if there are mates available. Maybe trolls are the same way.
Or, magic is involved. The fact that Bruce and Brandy reproduce together baffles even them. I say it’s got to be yet another magical-hair-related ability, fueled by more magic than they know they possess.
Of course, the trolls’ world itself could be considered magical. It has physics that wouldn’t work in our world, like seeing sparkles and musical notes in the air. Talking, self-aware clouds. Water made from glitter. Creatures like glowbugs that shouldn’t even be able to fly, let alone carry trolls. Animals with books growing out of their faces. Seriously?! Enlightened gurus like Cybil (and, I suspect, Tiny Diamond) can float. Which proves that Creek wasn’t a true guru – he used bugs to carry him and make it seem as if he were floating.
So we might as well call alternate-world physics “magic,” yes? 😉
I hope you all had a great holiday 😊
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3 star ending, Gregory, Vanessa, and Freddy decorating Vanessa's apartment with glow in the dark stars for a ficlet idea :D
Night Lights
(2422 words)
Freddy jumps out at the screen letting out an inhuman screech. The guy on screen yelps, and covers his face with his hands.
"I still cannot believe they made video games about me." Freddy comments from Gregory's pillow.
Gregory shrugs, propped up on one elbow and staring at the laptop screen. "They're not really about you. They're about an old version of you."
"Yes," Freddy says when Freddy is looking at the camera menacingly from the game over screen. "but I would never dream of hurting one of our night guards, nevertheless hunting them down!"
"That's because this Freddy is possessed by a ghost." Gregory points out, then laughs. "Man, the guy who made these games made them so farfetched!"
The crickets are chirping outside of Gregory's window, and hes stuffing his face with potato chips and watching some guy play FNAF on YouTube.
All in all, its a peaceful night, if you'd call watching a guy scream at an evil older version of Gregorys Freddy peaceful, but its pleasant.
It's nice and quiet for a while, and Gregory actually thinks the guy is going to make it, and then Mangle gets him.
Gregory barks out a laugh, pointing at the screen when the screaming ceases and all that's left is silence and static. "Ha! Did you see the look on his face--"
A scream suddenly pierces the air like a sword, shrill and terrified, muffled behind the wall.
Gregory freezes, listening to the awful sound, and makes eye contact with Freddy.
The scream was Vanessa's, and it came from her room.
"Vanessa." They both say urgently, and Gregory's head whips to his door, hair bouncing.
Neither of them say anything else. They dont have to. Gregory is up and off of his bed at the speed of light, almost tripping over himself to get to the door of his room. He only lingers long enough to scoop up Freddy and he's already in the hallway.
He books it to her room, fearing the worst. Vanessa has had nightmares before. Shes gotten lost in the memories and needed Gregory to pull her out before. But Gregory has never heard her scream like this before.
The wind whips through his hair and pajamas at the sheer speed hes running, and he skids to a stop in front of Vanessa's door, socks sliding on the laminate wood flooring.
He bursts through the door, stepping into the dark room. "Vanessa?! Are you okay?!"
Its pitch black; it's already late at night, and the little moonlight that would be streaming through the blinds are covered by blackout curtains.
Gregory searches the dark fervently, trying to find Vanessa, but he only spots her when he steps further into the room and Freddys LED eyes cast a much needed glow.
Gregory finds her curled up on the floor next to her bed. Shes in her pajamas, so she was probably getting ready for bed. Shes breathing erratically, knees drawn up to her chest, and backed up in the corner like she was trying to scramble away from something.
Gregory's brows crease in worry, and he frowns, stepping towards Vanessa slowly. "Ness? Hey, are you okay?"
Vanessa's eyes dart to him, and she has a hand over her heart, trying to take deep breaths.
"Gregory." She says, like she just now noticed he was here. She sighs a bit, trying to get her breathing back under control. "Gregory. Um. I-Im fine. It's okay. I'm fine."
Gregory and Freddy share a quick look. She sounds like shes trying to convince herself.
Gregory just clicks on the small table lamp next to her bed, and crouches down. "What happened?"
Vanessa's locked up posture loosens a bit once the lights on. She huffs out a small breath. "W-What do you mean?"
Gregory gives her a deadpan look. "We heard you scream."
"Oh." Vanessa says, and she sighs, eyes downcast. "It was... it was nothing. Don't worry about it."
Gregory frowns, brows furrowed as he sits criss cross on the carpet to get comfortable.
"Come on, Ness." He says, setting a hand on her knee. "I know it wasnt nothing. Just tell us."
"We will not judge you, Vanessa." Freddy rumbles from Gregory's lap. "I promise. We will understand. Whatever it may be."
Vanessa's eyes trail over them a few times, and she relents, sighing heavily and shifting.
"I just--" She starts. "I thought I... I thought I saw him."
Gregory raises a brow. "Saw who?"
"That-- That mimic thing." She says. She frowns, rubbing at her eyes with the balls of her hands. "He would use a... A Springbonnie avatar of some sort. A-And he would appear to me sometimes."
Gregory watches as she sits up, dropping her hands almost defeatedly
"I just..." She trails off. "I thought I saw him. In my room."
"Oh." Gregory says. Vanessa nods.
Gregory gets it now. Vanessa thought she saw the thing that ruined her life appear in her room, late at night, catching her off guard.
Gregory understands why she reacted that way, now. Its not as bad as some of the other things hes been through, but if he thought he saw Roxys ears or hair in the shadows of his room, or Montys tail lashing in the corner of his eye, he would freak out too.
He frowns, and doesn't say anything else, just leans forward and wraps his arms around her in a big hug, Freddy squished between them.
"Wh--" Vanessa starts to say, then, he feels a short breathy sort of chuckle rattle her chest when she wraps her own arms around his back. "What's this about?"
"What do you mean, 'what's this about'? Gregory says incredulously. "I'm comforting you, you big jerk. I'm trying to help you."
Vanessa chuckles for real this time, and she just squeezes him tighter.
Freddy rumbles between them, his head almost like a personal heater between them. "We will always he here for you, Vanessa." He says. "We want to help you, and that means knowing that is wrong, so we know how to aid you best."
Gregory nods against her chest, eyes closed. "Mhm. We won't judge you for nuthin. Not even if you think you see monsters in your closet."
When Vanessa starts to shake, Gregory doesn't comment, just smiles against her, and squeezes a bit tighter.
Vanessa squeezes back, too.
"That thing cant hurt you anymore." Gregory says. "I promise. And if it tries, me and Freddy will let 'im have it."
Vanessa laughs, and from where Gregory's sitting, unable to see her face, he thinks it sounds a little teary. "I'm sure he'll think twice about messing with me if I have you two as my bodyguards."
Gregory nods. "I have a Fazerblaster and I'm not afraid to use it, dont forget that."
Vanessa laughs again, and Gregory joins in when Freddy starts to go on about Fazerblaster safety.
��
It's supposed to be a suprise.
Gregory and Freddy had wandered off at some point during a grocery trip, and somehow ended up in an isle with curtains and pillowcases and that sort of stuff.
They'd just been walking idly, but then, a package with flashes of pale green over a dark background caught his eye when the store is all white and the rest of the items are all boring black and white.
It was a package of glow in the dark stars. The image was beautiful, and reminded him of the starry night skies decorating the ceilings of the Pizzaplex, or the Daycares star-shaped neon lights all over the walls. You'd stick them on the ceiling, and when night fell or it got dark, they'd light up the room.
Immediately, Gregory and Freddy had known what to do. With Vanessa's panic the other night, Gregory had been keeping an eye and an ear out for any more signs of Vanessa being distressed.
Although there were none, Gregory was particularly upset to see that Vanessa has been sleeping with her lamp on.
Gregory had frowned, and thought that their oughta be a buffer between bright lights and total darkness, and Freddy had thrown out the idea of a night light.
So, great! That was a perfect solution. But Gregory hadn't been able to find a straight-up night light at any of the stores they'd went to, and he didn't tell Vanessa about his quest, either. Wanting to surprise her.
Gregory clutches the pack of glow-stars in his arm, walking back to the food section of the store.
His quest is complete.
Gregory has plenty of experience smuggling items places, and hiding them so nobody can find them.
Gregory smiles. Vanessa wont even know she bought them.
🐻
"Alright, squirt." Vanessa had said one day during the week, tired from her lack of good sleep because of her lights and uniformed up. "I'm off to work. At least try to eat something actually healthy instead of junk food, okay?"
Gregory had just given her a salute and a promise, and Vanessa had been off to her new job she had gotten after Fazbear fired her as some kind of office worker.
Then came the perfect hours-wide window of putting up the stars in Vanessa's room while shes at work.
"Please be careful, Gregory." Freddy says worriedly from his station on the bed. "I do not wish for you to fall and hurt yourself."
Gregory sticks out his tongue, attempting to balance his body on his tip toes all while trying not to flip the stool over. "I'll be fine, Freddy. You've said that like a million times already!"
Freddy hums behind him, but Gregory just stretches his arm as far as itll go, and sticks the glow in the dark star onto the empty space on the ceiling.
He untenses his body after its secure, and definitely, totally doesn't flip the step stool by doing so.
"That was the last one, anyway." He says while rubbing his aching head after Freddy frets over him. He checks his watch. "Its around 5PM! That... actually took a lot longer than I expected."
"It looks, great, though!" Freddy says with a smile. "Vanessa will love it!"
And Gregory has to agree. He takes a step back, admiring his work.
They're not lit up yet, since it's still daytime, but they're all mismatched and arranged to cover every inch of the ceiling so they'll light up the shadows. Especially the corners.
Gregory can only imagine what itll look like when it's dark, but he knows itll be great.
As if on queue, Gregory hears the front door rattle and unlock. 5PM on the dot.
"Crap!" Gregory hisses. "Its not ready yet!"
"Hurry and shut the door!" Freddy tells him.
Gregory does, and right before Vanessa swings the door open with a flourish.
"I'm home!" She calls out to the house, and Gregory scrambles to turn off the lights and close the blinds when he hears her walking around. "Gregory? Freddy?"
"In here!" Gregory calls out, and when he sees the glowing array of stars above him, shares a grin with Freddy.
He hears footsteps come up to the door, and click it open.
"Gregory? What are you doing in here? What have I told you about snooping around in my room--"
She trails off when the door opens fully, and Gregory watches as she stares wide eyed at the glowing array of stars, jaw slack.
"You're gonna catch flies." He says with a giggle when she doesnt move again. The stars reflect in her eyes, and they dart to look at him.
"You--" She stutters, and all she can do is point a finger up at the ceiling. "Did you...?"
He nods, hair bouncing. "Yup. But it was Freddys idea, though."
Freddy nods as much as he can as just a head with no neck. "Yes! Night lights are wonderful additions to a bedroom if you have trouble with the dark!"
Vanessa keeps staring at them, and Gregory is pretty sure that her eyes are a bit more shiny than they were before.
He just smiles. "They glow in the dark. So you dont have to use the lamp anymore."
Vanessa glances over to the lamp in question, and then finally steps inside of the room, admiring every nook and cranny.
Gregory laughs a bit when it looks like shes in some movie, spinning around the room like its magic or something.
"No monsters are gonna sneak up on you, now." He says. "The light'll keep them away."
Every corner and crevice is lit up. The closet is closed so theres no more shadows left. Gregory left no stone unturned.
She just looks at him like he hung the stars. Which, he did. Literally.
She wipes at her dry eyes and sniffles a little. "You put these all up by yourself?"
Gregory nods, and subconsciously edges in front of the knocked over stool. "Yep. Took a while, too."
"I supervised." Freddy let's her know. Vanessa laughs at that.
"Good to know." She smiles. "Gregory I-- This is amazing. I dont--"
"Dont know what to say?" Gregory smiles, crossing his arms. "Then dont say anything. I already know I'm great."
Vanessa just smiles and shakes her head.
"Just promise me one thing." Gregory says.
Vanessa pauses, raising a brow. "Yeah?"
"Promise that you'll get me some stars too at some point." He asks, completely seriously.
Vanessa barks out a laugh, and takes her hat off of her head. "Here I thought you were going to be sappy, sap."
Gregory shakes his head. "Nope. I only help you if you're freaking out or give me food. No in between. No food, no service."
Vanessa doesnt laugh at that, though, but she does still have a smile. "Speaking of food, did you by any chance take a break to eat in the middle of putting these all up?"
Gregory pauses, looking at the ground. "Um... Well... You see--"
"Ugh." Vanessa facepalms." "I said not to eat only junk food, Gregory. Not to not eat at all."
Gregory just shrugs. Not his fault hes not completely used to having a completely stocked kitchen at his disposal all the time. "Whoops."
Vanessa just shakes her head, and eyes the TV and the glow stars.
She sighs a deep, fond sigh. "How about I go make up some popcorn and we watch a movie?"
Gregory grins, and hops on the bed next to Freddy. "Can I pick?"
"Sure, brat." She calls him, but shes smiling all the same.
ao3 link
#pandas.txt#pandas talks#pandas asks#pandas writes#donut holes#ficlet#oneshot#prompts#3 star fam#vanessa#gregory and vanessa#gregory and freddy#fnaf#fnaf fic#fnaf vanessa#fnaf gregory#glamrock freddy
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Ive made through chapters 4-7 today and good god, I feel like i had basically nothing to say about acotar as I was reading it but with this book theres so much to talk about for some reason, its wild. Truly, I did not realize how much I liked Feyre in the first book until I was under threat of losing her
Now, I will say that Feyre seems in-character so far, shes still the same woman but traumatized, but I am worried for her. Tamlin is a whole different story though, SJM might as well shoot him dead right in front of me for how thoroughly hes being character assassinated. Like, if Tamlin actually cares about Feyre as a person and not just in a douchy, possessive alphahole way, which he should because Tamlin was not that kind of guy previously, then he would force Feyre to train so she can defend herself if necessary, not forbid her from it. Even if he didnt want her to use her magical powers, surely he would make her practice with her knife or with a sword or even with her bow just to be safe, because hes not always gonna be there
I think his actions do continue to make sense if you look at them from his perspective, but I also maintain that he's doing a really bad job at responding to Feyre. But also, its so laughably obvious what sjm is doing by having Tamlin say shit like "you were stolen from me", shes trying to paint him as some objectifying asshole. Even Lucien calling her "Tamlin's bride" feels like its part of all this, and I know Ianthe is gonna turn out to be a traitor and a rapist at some point, so it really comes across as an attempt to villify the entire spring court for its association with Tamlin
Speaking of Lucien, I genuinely think part of the reason Feylin is doing so badly in this book is that his dynamic with Tamlin is completely different now. For some reason hes all like "oh, my High Lord" instead of "my good friend Tamlin", he suddenly cant say a word against him when he was talking to shit to him just a few months ago in-uinverse. Like, if their dynamic was the same as it was in acotar, Lucien wouldve probably been like "hey man, I know youre stressed and I get it, I know what its like to watch the love of my life get brutally murdered I dont know what its like to have her magically ressurected again but thats neither here nor there, but Feyre is clearly not happy being inside all day and you need a break, go take her out on a date in the woods, I'll stay here and take care of everything, dont even worry about it" or gotten him to comprise with Feyre or chill tf out or SOMETHING but because theres suddenly this rigid hierarchy in the spring court in order to make the night court look better
Speaking of the night court, Ive heard some stuff about it feeling very orientalist but it still managed to completely blindsight me with its badness. Feyre got fucking harem pants to wear, really? And a short-sleeved croptop, and no fucking shoes, probably because Rhys didnt want Feyre throwing shoes at him again. That was the one moment in this book that brought me genuine joy btw, I would read a thousand fanfics about her just throwing shit at him
Anyway, speaking of my guy (derogatory) Rhysand Nolastname, hes so incredibly annoying I dont even have any coherent thoughts about him right now, like, if I were to write down what I think of him I would just write "he fuckinh pisses me off" over and over again. Im actually a really big fan of edgy shadow bois, but only if theyre like, sad and angry and closed off, if theyre like Rhysand and theyre all flirty and teasing and cocky and shit, theyre just annoying and nothing else. And the romance has barely even started yet, I cant imagine how much worse the flirting is gonna get later. Not to mention all these desperate and obvious attempts by sjm to make him sympathetic and morally good now, its honestly pretty pathetic
Now Im gonna be real with you, I didnt get a lot of sleep yesterday and I can feel myself and the things Im writing getting less and less coherent, so Im just gonna hit you with the very last of my thoughts bullet point style
The fact that Amarantha apparently didnt actually go rogue and it was all part of Hybern's plan feels misogynistic ngl
Ianthe's entire character already feels so misogynistic and slutshame-y and she hasnt even assaulted anyone yet
Something about Mor bothers me, I cant quite put my finger on it but its there. I think I do like her for annoying Rhys though
God, Im gonna have so much to say about the Illyrians but for now, its awfully bold of Rhysand to be like "they wasted no time throwing themselves before her feet" when THATS WHAT HE DID
Thats it for now
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assign your moots to tropes
@celeste-hoon — enemies to lovers with sunghoon
they fight, they bicker, they claim to hate each other but is there a reason to it? it’s the same old story which we love—sunghoon being a jock who’s too proud of himself and moonie is the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, so what’s a better way to get her attention if not to tease the life out of her?
@ddeonuism — spiderman au with spidermark
mark is the shy nerd at nics’ university, her classmate actually. he’s too smart for his own good, however, he isn’t good when it comes to socializing, which gives him his lewser image. but oh well, nobody knows that he’s out to save the world, and more specifically, nics now that the enemy has noticed the more than normal love spiderman holds for nics.
@criceofpain — rivals with benefits with heeseung
they both are known to have the best voices in whole of decelis university, but they don’t bond on this fact, rather they’re always competing to be the best to claim the end of the year trophy but they have no idea that one bickering would lead to other and they’d find themselves doing not so holy deeds in the instrument storage room.
@jayzdaze — bed sharing with jay
it’s late at night and kay is still with her project partner jay, not once noticing the storm outside. solution? you have to stay back home with jay, who only has one bed and no, he’s not allowing you to sleep on the couch, which is too small for either of you. will jay be able to keep his hands to himself? or will he provide kay with some warmth to overcome the storm? maybe the latter.
@sliceofajayke — childhood best friends to lovers with jake
elle is sweet, it’s almost as if the whole school, the whole neighbourhood knew that jake and elle are meant to be, yet they never talked about it, till another guy tries to ask elle out on a date, which infuriates jake to the point he goes around smashing the vase in his room. he can’t stand it, so he reaches her place, grabbing her neck and pulling her close, finally confessing and smashing his lips onto hers.
@en-myworld — fwb with bang chan
it all started as a drunken mistake, amy and chan meeting up at a random party, kissing and hooking up almost instantly and seeing how neither regretted it, they made it into a systematic arrangement of fwb relationship. but it’s never easy, not when chan is possessive, not when he sees amy laughing with jay, not when he realized he wants her all to himself and ends up saying i love you whilst having his cock deep inside her.
@heeliopheelia — royalty au with heeseung
carly lived a life that could be concluded as a fairy tale, from pretty dresses to living in a palace as a princess, she had it all—grace, beauty and brains. yet when it came to the talk of her marriage, she didn’t want to be with someone she didn’t love, she wanted the fairy tale love, the kind given in the books. so what would happen if a local boy saved her from a wild bear once. will she fall in love him, not knowing that the local boy is a actually a prince?
@daintydongyoung — coffee shop au with doyoung
coffee shops are known to be the best places for relaxation, the warmth, the aroma of coffee beans, everything feels soothing. yet bae had different reasons to be around that one particular coffee shop. the reason? kim doyoung, the barista who always welcomed her with the softest smile, unknowing that the girl was falling in love with him.
@heesuncore — fake dating with heeseung
it all started when honey’s ex wouldn’t stop flaunting his new girlfriend, which was something she couldn’t tolerate and what’s better than to date the guy he was always wary of—honey’s best friend lee heeseung. it was obvious to the entire world how in love heeseung was with honey, yet she wasn’t aware of it. he almost had a heart attack when you proposed the fake dating scheme to him, yet who was he to deny when he got to act like he was her boyfriend, getting to hold her hand, hug her, and maybe just maybe—kiss her?
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The Incident - a Malevolent one-shot for the zine, This Too Shall Pass
Arthur and John are in Arkham, getting their burgeoning P.I. business off the ground.
And then Kayne asks for a favor, and everything goes to hell,
AO3
Written for the Malevolent zine, @malevolent-fanzine
————
“Right,” says Arthur, settling at his desk. “Widow Morris on Thursday. Friday is the court date—that’s the big one, John. I want this guy going down.”
Agreed. People who hurt children were never going to get mercy from either of them.
“The Morris case, at least, won’t be difficult,” Arthur verbalizes. “I still think it’s just a squatter.”
I don’t. I just have a feeling about it.
“Fine, fine.” Arthur sips tea with his right hand. “We’ll go armed however you think is wise. Make a note.”
John writes in the appointment book with his left.
Arthur considers the rest of their Tuesday. “So what about—”
“Hey, guys?” Kayne whines out of nowhere, then suddenly speaks like a rocket without punctuation. “I’m busy and need a hand this is Lucy (short for Lucifer of course) and I got stuff to do (big boy god stuff) a meeting of biblical proportions don’t you know (oh wait you wouldn’t) so anyway do me the favor of keeping an eye on her bye!”
And then he drops a monster in the middle of the office and vanishes.
#
At least, John presumes he vanishes. John is a little distracted trying to make sure Arthur doesn’t die.
Down! Behind the desk! Fuck!
Fortunately, Arthur is not in one of his stubborn moods today, and obeys.
Lucy is a horrible thing, oil-slick black and just as shiny, the size of a large dog, and possessed of enormous blue eyes that do not fit her hideous face. She has a shark-teeth perma-smile, six prehensile arms (or legs?), and flexible stingers lining her spine all the way to the tip of her pointed tail.
John knows they’re stingers because Lucy likes to embed them in things.
All things.
Anything.
Within seconds of her landing between them and the door, she has layered the carpet, the desk, the chairs, and much of the ceiling in freaky, pulsing spines, which she then regrows at once so she can do it again.
Unfortunately, Lucy seems to be throwing a tantrum.
There’s neither rhyme nor reason for her actions. She does not let them go for the door; when they try, she swipes her tail and lines Arthur’s arm with stingers, which apparently burn.
“Fuck!” Arthur hisses, back behind the desk as John works to pull the stingers free.
John does not like how… dusky Arthur’s skin gets around each little hole, but at least he gets them all out.
Lucy rampages around the office. She storms the bathroom. She crashes the kitchen.
The window is right there! John howls at her.
She does not even try to leave.
By this point, John knows the only reason they’re alive is Lucy doesn’t actually want to kill them.
After about an hour and a half, Lucy wears herself out, curls up like a weird, hairless cat, and enters a fitful sleep in front of the door.
She twitches in her sleep as though dreaming.
“What the fuck?” moans Arthur.
Kayne returns seconds later.
“Aww, there there, there there,” he coos hideously, scooping her up while Arthur peers with John’s sight around the war-wounded desk. “You did so good? Yes you did, yes you did! Thanks, you two. I owe you. Bye!” And he’s gone again.
The place is wrecked.
Arthur is feverish.
Fuck, says John, which seems a good summation of it all.
#
They call it The Incident. It seems unwise to mention Kayne or Lucy by name.
Arthur doesn’t seem particularly… well? He’s pale, and his reaction time is just a pinch slow; but he seems otherwise sharp enough, and scoffs at John’s idea of going to a doctor.
“I’m fine, damn it,” he says when prompted. “We don’t have time, anyway.”
Widow Morris turns out to have a damned wraith in her attic, which requires digging through old, dusty trunks and some fairly clever workarounds to bind.
They’ve done this before, but when Arthur goes to free her in exchange for a request, he seems to pull a blank. “Help someday?” he says, which is vague as fuck, and John is pissed.
Arthur! The hell!
“Hn?”
The wraith takes the deal and leaves. Who knows what she made of it.
Widow Morris pays them and tells Arthur he’s looking peaky.
That wraith shit is going to come back to bite us, John warns. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I think… I think I need to go home,” says Arthur, and says not one more word until they do.
#
They haven’t had much time to fix the place. Arthur crunches through wreckage, curses as he trips over a stinger John missed in the carpet, and mutters his way into the smashed-up kitchen.
Arthur, you’re worrying me.
“One more day, John,” Arthur mumbles as he eats some cold canned soup. “Once we finish this court case, we’ll be good for a bit. We can rest. ‘S what we need. Rest.”
Sure, Arthur. John is unconvinced.
Arthur showers.
Arthur goes to bed.
John is very concerned.
#
The morning of the court case—three days after The Incident—begins bright and early with Arthur throwing up.
He simply turns to the side and heaves all over the floor until there’s nothing left.
The fuck! John says, deeply startled. Are you all right?
“Sure,” says Arthur lightly, as though that didn’t happen, and staggers like a drunk toward the bathroom.
Arthur. Arthur, stop, you’re about to hit the—
Arthur wakes face-first into the open bathroom door, hands uselessly stretched on either side.
He grunts.
What the fuck, Arthur?
“‘S fine,” Arthur mumbles, and feels for the shower.
John is disturbed at how damp and tacky Arthur’s pajamas are. He must have sweated all night. You have a bad fever.
Not that they have any way to know. The thermometer, of course, is smashed.
Arthur, you need a damn doctor.
“No time for doctor,” Arthur mumbles with precise elocution and caveman grammar, and steps in before the water is even warm.
Arthur?
No answer this time.
Also no singing, which is absolutely out of character.
Arthur, if you walk into court like this, we are going to blow our testimony, and that murderer will get away.
“Sure, sure,” says Arthur, and—leaving the water on—staggers toward the closet, soaking wet.
Uh, Arthur?
“Mm?”
You didn’t shave.
Arthur stumbles back in.
No, says John, taking the straight razor from Arthur’s shaking hand. Better let me do this today.
“Kay.”
Tilt your head. There you go.
Arthur doesn’t argue or push back or anything.
Apparently, it takes a horrible mystery illness to make him amenable. Figures.
Arthur, I really think we should call the prosecutor and let them know you’re ill. Maybe your testimony can be rescheduled.
Arthur does not reply.
It takes nearly twenty minutes to get him dressed, and it goes… poorly.
“How do I look?” says Arthur, his shirt sticking to his wet skin and buttoned entirely wrong, his tie a configuration definitely not listed in The Gentlemen’s Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness and possibly a runic knot.
Okay, says John. Okay, this isn't great. Arthur, I don’t think this is going to work.
“Sure it is,” says Arthur, and then he passes out.
John doesn’t have a body to wince, but that thud shakes him, anyway.
Arthur?
John pats his face.
Nothing.
John smacks him hard.
Nothing.
This is no mere fever.
Fuck, John says.
If this is another coma, John doesn’t know what to do. Drag himself to the phone and dial the police? Sure—but he wouldn’t be able to speak.
And today’s court case will be a bust. That asshole will get away with literal murder, and that is…
The man hurt kids. This is unacceptable.
Don’t panic, John tells himself. Humans do this. They pass out when their bodies require resources for things other than consciousness. He’s going to wake up. Don’t panic. Don’t—
Bare feet come into view in front of Arthur’s face. Casual. Quiet. Filthy with what might be tar, but is just brown enough to make John think of blood.
“Oh, no, do panic, darling, very much do,” says the owner of the feet.
John is not particularly obedient, but he rockets into panic now. What? Why are you here? Go away!
Kayne does not, but crouches, studying Arthur like a fascinating bug. He grips Arthur’s hair to lift his head and drop it back down again, thud.
Hey!
“He is out for the count, isn’t he? My, my, my.” Lift, drop, thud.
Stop doing that!
“And here you have a court date, don't you? Dramatic! Terrible! Whatever shall you do?”
Go the fuck away.
“Oh, you want to go away from him?” Lift, drop, thud.
No! John thrusts his left hand beneath Arthur’s head.
“Not even to get his body for yourself? He wouldn’t suffer if you did it now! Wouldn’t even know it happened. He’d just float away (which is what he wants to do, anyway, though I know you’re not ready to tangle with that one), and maybe even end up with Faroe—and you’d be one step closer to whole.” Lift, drop—
Kayne allows John to catch Arthur’s head with a smack.
That seems pointed, somehow.
No!
“You sure? You could make the court date.” Lift, drop, smack.
At the cost of Arthur’s life? No!
“What if it wasn’t at the cost of his life?”
This time, Kayne doesn’t let go. He holds Arthur’s head by the hair, that fragile human neck bent, and John is suddenly very afraid what will happen to Arthur if he says no.
I… I’m listening.
“Good boy,” says Kayne, low and dangerous. “I’m bored, see? And this is an opportunity. So here’s what we’re going to do.”
#
An hour later, John walks Arthur’s body into the courtroom.
He hasn’t quite got the hang of it yet. Two legs instead of dozens of tentacles just doesn’t feel right, and balance is a whole thing, but there was no more time to practice.
He has a plan if anyone asks: something something out on a case, something something got beat up, something something doing just fine.
“Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” they ask him.
Well, John sure does, even if the only gods he knows he’s actively avoiding.
“Are you prepared to tell this court what you observed on the day in question?” says the prosecutor, and John goes off.
#
Maybe he shouldn’t have gone off.
The prosecutor’s eyes are pretty damn big before John finishes his recollection.
So are the judge’s.
The jury looks fairly stunned, too.
John’s not sure what he did wrong. He just told them what happened. Everything he saw.
Everything that murderer did, including messing with evidence, which was the reason Arthur’s testimony matters so much.
What did he do worth staring at like this?
“Call for recess,” says the judge, and everybody takes a break.
John walks Arthur’s body to the men’s room.
Everyone else spoke in a measured, calm tone, as though this wasn’t a monster they were judging.
John was… passionate. Maybe shared some details humans would not (though the birthmark visible on the man’s dick seemed like important identification).
John has no regrets.
Next, he will be cross-examined, and he is ready.
He checks the tie (perfect).
He does the sniff test to ensure he didn’t sweat too much (soap and human, perfectly standard).
Teeth clean. Eyes clear. Hair -
Wait.
The eyes are not clear.
John leans in.
Arthur’s irises used to be brown; they have been gold since John took them, and it is a color John really likes—it’s damn near metallic, hardly a human tone. But now, there is something new.
Jagged black lines radiate out from the irises, as if Arthur’s eyes are broken glass.
“That’s not right,” John mutters in Arthur’s suave tenor.
“Looks fine to me,” says Kayne from one of the stalls, and (obnoxiously) flushes the toilet. He slams open the stall door and stalks over to lean on the sink, then (obnoxiously) doesn’t use it.
John doubts he needs to use it. He’s also certain Kayne has far worse than human effluvia on his hands. “What do you want?”
“You know, Arthur keeps surprising me?” says Kayne conversationally. “Not a clue why (which is a whole thing in itself), but he’s reacting to Lucy a lot faster than anticipated.”
Of course this goes back to The Incident. Of course it does. “What? Those fucking stingers? I got them all out!”
“Did you, though?”
John is very still.
“I had been calculating a couple of weeks before he would start showing, but yow. Those eyes, buddy. You ain’t convincing anybody on the stand with eyes like those, unless you were arguing for demon possession.” Kayne cackles. “Might get you a date, but not a conviction.”
John can feel Arthur’s heart pounding. He peers in the mirror again. “What is happening to Arthur’s body?”
“Don’t you know? It’s being taken over, darling. Little by little. Maybe your presence helped? Hurried it along? We’ll never know. Anyway, got to go! Ciao!” And he takes one step backwards and vanishes.
Oh.
Oh, this was not good.
Oh.
John peers again.
They’re expecting him back in the courtroom.
The other guy’s lawyer will definitely notice these eyes.
John won’t be able to make an excuse about a late-night excursion for this.
He has to protect Arthur.
But the court case…
Damn it.
John wants justice, but he wants Arthur safe far more.
He can hear them all walking down the hall, talking, laughing, ready to resume.
John climbs out the bathroom window.
Behind him, he thinks there are screams, but he tells himself his borrowed human brain made them up.
#
Back in their small apartment behind the office, John studies Arthur’s face in the cracked bathroom mirror.
Since he left the courthouse, the lines have grown darker, sharper-angled—and have begun to reach past his sclera and into the flesh of his face.
This is very bad.
He must have missed a stinger.
John strips and inspects himself. He can’t quite see Arthur’s back, so he rummages until he finds a shaving mirror.
And there, in the reflection, is a small, black dot between his kidneys.
A stinger. Shit.
If John is very still and doesn’t breathe, he can see it throbbing slightly, pumping something unknown into Arthur’s body.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” snaps John, and, using tweezers, manages to wriggle it out.
Yup. It’s one of Lucy’s spines, still pulsing, oozing a weird and nasty black.
How much of this is in Arthur? How the hell can he counteract it?
A witch. He needs a witch.
He doesn’t know any witches.
Not here, anyway.
The only witches John knows are back home—
He catches himself. Are back in the Dreamlands. Which isn’t home. This is.
Still, he needs a witch. “Damn it, Kayne,” he growls.
“What?” Kayne says from behind the shower curtain. “Can’t a guy take a relaxing bath in a stolen tub with expensive oils and fine wine and a severed head in peace while another guy in a stolen body pulls a baby chaos stinger out of his back with tweezers?”
John decides not to engage with that sentence. “I need a witch.”
Kayne scoffs. “You need more than that, darling.”
“This happened because we did you a favor,” John snarls.
“No, it happened because your human is a fucking klutz.” Kayne does something, and water splashes.
John hopes Kayne is not getting severed-head bits all over everything. He sighs. “Fine. I’ll find a witch on my own.”
“This should be good.”
John grabs Arthur’s clothes and exits the bathroom at a run.
#
John misses Arthur.
The human world is much less interesting without him to talk to, and he finds himself mentally describing everything he sees as though still guiding his friend.
It’s not the same.
He wants Arthur back.
At any rate, the yellow pages are no use for finding witches.
He already knows there are no shops offering such things.
Come to think of it, though… he does know one person who’s connected to witchery.
She’s not likely to help him.
Maybe he can scare her into it? No, that wouldn’t work.
“This is a bad idea, Arthur,” he says out of habit, though of course, there is no response.
He misses Arthur.
It takes him an hour by bus to get to Boston. By the time he arrives, other passengers are avoiding him, glancing nervously at his face, visibly afraid.
Most of them, anyway. Kayne was right about that—a few look distinctly interested, though he’s not sure in what.
If it were John’s body, he might be curious enough to find out, but it isn’t his body, so he doesn’t.
He won’t do that to Arthur, any more than Arthur would do that to him.
#
The Dunwich Repository looks exactly the same—an understated brownstone with a sign by the door, and no indication just what horrors lie within.
The whole shoggoth thing hadn’t gone… great? And Asenath’s father had died in the middle of it, and honestly, she should have, too, but Arthur had insisted she’d been used and was innocent and needed another chance, all of which John disbelieved, but now maybe he could leverage that mercy.
He climbs the steps to the brownstone’s door and hesitates. Is this really the only option?
Ah. Jagged, black lines have shattered their way from his fingernails down into Arthur’s hands, not following any vein pattern he can see.
John dares not wait. He rings the bell.
#
She doesn’t make him wait long.
Asenath hasn’t aged much. That she’d aged at all in only a few months, though, is disturbing—and maybe indicates just how long she and her father had been siphoning life from other people to extend their own.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
Too late now, though. “Hello, Asenath,” says John.
She raises her perfect eyebrows, her dress diaphanous and pearlescent, her jewelry gleaming and clean.
Then she hauls off and smacks him in the face.
#
Arthur’s face still stings. He was going to be unrecognizable by the end of all this—though maybe that was good. They had left in the middle of a court case.
“I should throw you out,” says Asenath. “You don’t deserve help from me.”
“We’d hardly be here if we had another choice,” says John, distinctly more kingly than intended.
The look she grants over her shoulder—a full body scan, up and down—is ugly.
The Repository seems serene. The carpet is thick, the wallpaper is silk, and paintings line the walls—but they are not ordinary landscapes.
John knows the landscapes in those paintings. None of them are of this world. Neither are the books on the second and third floors. The whole place is a ticking time bomb of esoteric knowledge.
“Hm,” she says.
John grips Arthur’s gun in his pocket. “What?”
“It’s a curse,” says Asenath, moving forward into the building.
“Is it?” says John. “Seemed like venom of some kind, to me.”
“Well, that’s what happens when an amateur looks into complicated things,” Asenath says, and John remembers why he dislikes her so badly.
“So can you help or not?” he grumps.
“Depends. Can you help me?”
“The last time you wanted help, it was a trap,” says John with conviction.
Because it had been.
Because they’d gotten wind Arthur had a special passenger, and hired him with plans to siphon his life. John’s life.
It hadn’t worked only because they’d underestimated just how completely outrageous Arthur could be when threatened.
“Well, this time, it isn’t one,” says Asenath, and enters the last room in the place.
It might have been a bedroom once. Its windows are boarded; its furniture is gone. A single structure remains now: a rough, wooden rack, on which the dead, rotting body of Ephraim Waite currently stretches.
He’s been there a while. The flesh has begun to pull away from his bones. The ropes around his wrist indent as if in soft cheese.
“Uh,” says John, who had not expected this.
“I’m going to inhabit him with something,” says Asenath. “I haven’t decided what yet, but I need power to keep him from decaying further until I figure it out.”
John stares at her. She would, he thinks, do gangbusters business in the Dreamlands. “Why the fuck?”
“So,” she says, ignoring the question, “I help you with your little chaos curse, and you give me some of your power.”
“I don’t have any power,” says John, lying through Arthur’s teeth.
Her look could shrivel deserts into the richest lagoon.
He sighs. “How much power are we talking?”
“From you? Not much.”
“How do I know you aren’t going to trap us again?”
“Practicality. It’s more useful to have you as a living contact than a dead one right now—though I’ll warn you: at the end, you will need to walk out of here under your own power.” She smiles, and it is not a good smile.
“Fine,” says John, who hopes he’s not making a mistake. “We’ll do it here. Remove the curse, chaos, whatever. I’ll figure it out.”
#
He does not figure it out.
Removing the chaos is awful, and John is glad Arthur doesn’t have to experience it.
He’s tied to a second wooden frame. He’s bled until his heart stops, shocked to groaning shudders by some kind of jumping electrical arcs from a green wand, and subjected to a screaming rock until his ears ooze blood and he feels half-mad.
Everything she does extracts steaming black stuff from Arthur’s body, which seethes in the jars she uses to catch it, and he knows it’s probably bad to let her keep it, but he’s in no position to argue.
At one point, it feels for all the world like she pulls out his eyes and scoops something black and nasty that was hiding behind them.
Awful, just awful.
But by the end, he is cured. He can feel it; the fever has broken, and the sharp, black lines that had been radiating out from his fingernails are gone.
Unfortunately, so is Arthur’s strength.
“This will do,” she says, untying him by pulling a single knot and letting him fall to the floor. She studies the simple mason jar she filled with sparking yellow magic—when she extracted it, he doesn’t know, but it’s wild to see his power taking form. “Payment received. Business concluded. See yourself out.”
Right. That might be a problem.
John can’t even make the body roll over.
Asenath ignores him, moving around in her weird little lab, sizzling things, smacking things, cutting something that squeals.
He needs to get out of here.
“This is good power,” says Asenath, not even looking at him. “It should preserve the body for several months—so I’ll grant you an hour. After that, you’re a trespasser, and I will do what I want with you. You’ve been warned.” And off she goes with her awful self to do awful things to her awful father, and John curses Kayne for putting him in this situation.
He tries to pull himself toward the door.
Tries.
The thick carpet does not lend itself to dragging, and he makes no progress.
This brownstone is huge, he realizes, though it had seemed small on the way in. Panting, John wonders if he should stop trying, pull out the gun instead, and prepare to defend himself.
“Fuck,” he breathes, staring down the interminable hallway, at the distant door that seems so small. “I need help. Fuck, I need help.”
“You do?” says Kayne, standing suddenly between him and the door.
“Go away,” John groans.
“No,” says Kayne, tapping his chin. “I think I’d rather watch what she’s going to do to you when you don’t make it out in time.”
“You wouldn’t!”
The look Kayne gives makes Asenath’s seem humid.
“What do you want?” John snarls.
“Pity I’m all full up for things to do right now,” says Kayne. “No time to help you out. Schedule’s packed. Just swamped with responsibility.”
John knows what he’s hearing. He understands.
It might start this whole mess over again.
Arthur being alive to start it over again outweighs dodging whatever Asenath has in mind. “If we… watch Lucy for another evening, will you…” he says.
“Done!” And Kayne yanks him off the floor like he’s a stuffed toy.
#
On Tuesday—a full week after The Incident—John knows that Arthur is finally okay because his control of Arthur’s body slips away, heavy like wet silk.
John is so relieved.
Arthur, on his own, stirs.
He’s on the floor. There is a weight on top of him, sitting on his chest—kind of poky, not too heavy, but distinctly uncomfortable and inhuman.
It smells like the underside of a wet log.
A dog?
Not a dog.
He almost panics.
Shhh, John says. She’s finally fucking sleeping.
“She?” Arthur whispers, and can feel himself go pale. “Lucy?”
Yeah. Fucking Lucy.
“What… the hell is she doing here again?”
Arthur, I swear to fuck, if you wake her up—
Arthur gasps. “The court case!”
Relax. It’s been moved.
“Moved? How?”
The wraith. After I made our escape, the wraith went crazy on the courtroom, tearing shit up, scaring everybody. The whole case got moved to next month.
“Wh… what?”
I guess that’s how she helped us. Nobody knows we left before being cross-examined. Talk about luck.
Arthur is very clearly struggling. “I don’t even remember testifying?”
John sighs. So… about that. We—oh, shit.
Lucy wakes up.
She starts with a humming noise, a whir, as though she’s secretly mechanical, and that is the only warning.
#
After much deliberation, The Incident has now been extended to include the whole week.
I’m telling you, Lucifer is not Kayne’s offspring, John argues.
“Why else would he demand we watch her?” Arthur grouses from behind the gouged desk.
He is banged to hell. The scrapes are healing. There are no new barbs, by all the luck in the world.
They have figured out how to play fetch. Whatever they throw gets destroyed five or six tosses in, but it is enough to keep her from fully rampaging.
I’m telling you, he did this to fuck with us, says John.
Arthur huffs. “Maybe you’re mistaken.”
Maybe you’re naive.
“Maybe he has a daughter,” says Arthur, wistful, though how he could be wistful over a thing that broke every piece of glass in the office (and smashed half the furniture, and ate all the food, and somehow made the ceiling in one corner drip a constant, sticky red) and damn near got him killed is beyond John.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen it. Maybe it was because—
“How are my favorite babysitters?” says Kayne quite brightly, and Lucy makes a weird, trilling sound and leaps into his arms.
Arthur peers around the desk. “Is she?” he says.
“Is she what?” says Kayne, somehow even brighter.
“Your daughter.”
Kayne laughs hard as Lucy crawls over him, settling around his neck like a venomous scarf. “Fuck, no! I found this thing by the side of the road. I don’t even know what she is, but she’s got some attributes, doesn’t she?” He laughs again.
For the love of hell! John snarls.
“Oh,” says Arthur quietly.
Arthur is sad, and John has had enough. If that thing ever shows up here again, we are going to shoot it, he warns. I don’t care what you say.
“Oh, by all means,” says Kayne. “You could’ve shot her now, and I wouldn't care. Anywho, gonna go see how a few planetary royal families handle her brand of play. Thanks for being guinea pigs!” And he disappears with a pop.
In his place, on the ruined rug, is a single orange lollipop, as if to say they were very well-behaved at the dentist.
Arthur groans.
Told you it wasn’t his kid.
“Fuck him,” says Arthur.
Yeah. Definitely.
“How much time did I lose?”
Five days.
Arthur considers this grimly. “We are definitely shooting it next time,” he says. “No questions asked.”
Finally, you’re showing sense.
“Get me to the bathroom. I need to clean up.”
And by mutual decision, they never speak of The Incident again.
#Malevolent#malevolent fox#malevolent fanfic#arthur lester#John malevolent#kayne malevolent#one shot
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more headcanons..
someone on ao3 requested I write headcanons about how the hoenn/unova teams would react to Snivy and Sceptile being together.. so I wrote some..
uh, quick disclaimer, palpitoad and boldore were kind of hard to write for without getting tooo headcanon-y cause neither of them really get a chance to display their personalities.. subsequently, there was only so much I could put down.. and it’s a shame, really, cause in both their debut episodes in best wishes they did have some personality and then we didn’t really see a lot of them after that. (did u guys know palpitoad has only appeared in 15 episodes out of the entire anime???)
Pikachu wishes he was at the lab with his friends a little more frequently so he’d be less out of the loop— but admittedly, while he traveled alongside Snivy, he couldn’t help but notice how similar she was to his old pal Sceptile. Inwardly he’d hoped that they’d at least get to know each other while he and Ash traveled in Kalos— he suspected they’d really get along!— and when he returned, he was ecstatic to find that they had fallen in love.
Pikachu also gives Sceptile a bit of romance advice from time to time on his returns from his travels with Ash, given that he’s had his own set of experiences with the ladies.
But Pikachu’s not the only one giving Sceptile advice…
Aside from Pikachu, Swellow’s known Sceptile the longest— so he’s among the first to congratulate him on finding himself a partner. He had always had his suspicions about Sceptile and Snivy, but he never really bothered to approach Sceptile about it because he figured romance was… a touchy subject, for the grass type.
Regardless, Swellow’s really proud of Sceptile, for sure— and he’s also Sceptile’s go-to for romantic advice, as well.
Swellow’s sudden affinity for romance has got absolutely nothing to do with his connection to Staraptor and Unfezant, by the way. Nothing at all!
Torkoal is just so moved by Sceptile’s tumultuous romantic journey that when he’s first made aware of the news that Sceptile’s found a partner who makes him happy, he can’t do much more than cry, he’s so pleased.
Every time Torkoal happens to see Snivy and Sceptile doing something together, he gets all sentimental and teary-eyed, and although it’s unintentional, it embarrasses poor Sceptile to no end when Torkoal stops them to reminisce about when Sceptile was just a Treecko…
Corphish is actually a little envious of Sceptile for getting a girlfriend before him— okay, a lot envious. But, somehow, Sceptile’s actually served to inspire Corphish to better himself so that maybe he’ll have a shot with the ladies, too. Nonetheless, he’s supportive and does enjoy making jokes about the pair at Sceptile’s expense.
Glalie is a lot like Corphish in this regard— both of them take great pleasure in embarrassing Sceptile in front of Snivy. Sceptile is not a fan. Glalie and Corphish together are a bit like the nosy (but well-meaning.. ish) in-laws.
Krookodile and Snivy aren’t exactly friends (not that they don’t like each other, they just don’t speak too often) but they do possess a mutual respect for one another. Krookodile also has a lot of respect for Sceptile, recognizing his strength. Sceptile and Snivy, paired together? Well, that makes plenty of sense to him. Every so often he’ll stop to ask Snivy about him.
Donphan’s not entirely certain what Sceptile and Snivy being together really means, but they’re super happy for Sceptile nonetheless.
Scraggy, like Donphan, doesn’t really have a good grasp on what it means to be in a romantic relationship, but, for the most part, he’s just happy Snivy’s happy. She’s a little more fun to be around now that she’s got Sceptile, so he’s A-OK in Scraggy’s book since he makes her so happy.
Oshawott, like Corphish, is a little envious that Snivy’s in a relationship.. but he likes to take advantage of that fact more than anything else. Snivy being occupied with Sceptile means one less Pokémon preventing him from making mischief. He also enjoys telling Sceptile little stories about Snivy with the intention of embarrassing her— but Sceptile just thinks the anecdotes are cute. If Sceptile wasn’t so fond of hearing the tales, though, Snivy would be quick to send Oshawott into orbit with a Leaf Storm.
Pignite’s aware Sceptile makes Snivy happy. He’s pleased she’s found someone, but every so often he and Sceptile’ll butt heads. He can’t help but be just a little bit wary of him. Pignite’s a little unnerved by this new, slightly-cheerier Snivy, so he’s naturally a little curious about Sceptile. What is it about him that makes Snivy swoon so much? Sceptile and Pignite aren’t enemies, per se.. but they’re not really friends, either. They’ll coexist when Snivy’s nearby, but they tend to avoid each other when she’s not. He’s not ready to admit it to himself, but.. Pignite doesn’t trust Sceptile. Not with his best friend’s heart.
Unfezant’s proud of Snivy for “wrangling herself a man”, considering she’s got two boy-toys of her own (looking at you, Staraptor and Swellow). She and Snivy’ll sometimes get together and have “girl talks” about their partners— though really they’re more boasting sessions than anything else.
Leavanny’s a big fan of the new development! He makes lots of matching outfits for the couple and enjoys indulging in gossip surrounding the pair.
Charizard, much like Krookodile, holds a lot of respect for both Pokémon. Sceptile and Snivy getting together wasn’t all that surprising to him— but he does like to make a show of patting Sceptile on the back and going “Well if it ain’t the lab’s resident stud!”
Boldore doesn’t really get it, but Sceptile seems cool enough.
Palpitoad’s mostly just interested in battling Sceptile more than anything else. But he thinks Sceptile’s pretty cool.
#snivy x sceptile#Sceptile x Snivy#hoenn#unova#ash’s unova pokemon#ash’s sceptile#ash’s snivy#krookodile#scraggy#ash’s hoenn pokemon#anipoke#pokeani#headcanons#pokemon headcanons#sceptile#Is that implied swellow/staraptor/unfezant? yeah it is I was bored
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Big Brothers ft. MC is Pagan
*hands you some self indulgent bullshit*
Considering OM lore gives us proof of the Abrahamic God, why not others? This is purely because I'm a silly little pagan myself. My idea was that as a general rule, magic is stronger in the Devildom. And if you do deity work, said gods can visit you in a much more tangible way. If anyone is interested in a part 2 lmk! Anyways. Enjoy ♡♡♡♡♡
--------���--------‐-------------------------------------------------------
Lucifer
• He really doesn't care.
• Listen, it doesn't really affect him in any way. Bro has way too much on his plate to worry about you yelling at the moon.
• Every now and then you find candle wicks trimmed and herbs restocked. How mysterious.
• Despite his habit of brushing your religion off... Lucifer nearly has a heart attack when, late one night, he heads to the kitchen to grab yet another coffee only to find you chatting it up with The Morrìgan.
• Imagine his shock as he watches you sitting there on the counter, feet swinging as you tell the triple goddess about your day.
• Suddenly his respect and fear of you increases tenfold.
Mammon
• His immediate assumption is "Oh shit like the witches he owes money.."
• Once you explain you don't do fantasy magic... just practical stuff he calms down.
• He tries to impress you by talking about how he met such and such deity at a party a few centuries ago.
• Claims to have out drank Dionysis. It's a lie.
• Enchant a good luck charm for him. He will cherish it forever.
• After observing your practice he's started keeping bay leaves in his wallet.
• Remember that comment about Dionysis? Yeah that's about to bite the great Mammon in the ass.
• As usual, our dear Avatar of Greed bursts into your room unannounced.
• Rudely interrupting a godly gossip session.
• You just roll your eyes. "See what I mean? Zero privacy!"
• The god of madness and wine (amongst other things) hums in agreement before turning to Mammon with a glint in his eye.
• "How about a drinking contest? I've heard some bold claims."
Leviathan
• Once you get past the initial phase of "ew normie go away", he actually thinks it's kinda cool.
• I mean you do need to explain you aren't a magical girl or some shit. But aside from that he shows genuine interest.
• One night a thunderstorm knocks the power out.
• Unable to game, Levi decides to go see what you are up to.
• He's not quite sure what he expected, but it probably wasn't finding you sitting outside, criss cross applesauce in the pouring rain.
• "Hey... MC.... you okay?" Leviathan had planned on poking his head out to see what possessed you to go out on a torrential downpour. Emphasis on planned.
• Seeing the king of the gods listening to you rant about failing the big Devildom law exam made the third born change his mind real fast.
• His plan was to pretend it never happened because *what the fuck*
• Too bad Zeus asked about the purple haired guy staring at you. Oops.
Satan
• If you do deity work, he loans you books on your patron's mythology
• Satan will sit for hours with you discussing common themes found throughout various religions.
• Thinks Freya's chariot being pulled by cats is the coolest thing ever.
• Very interested in baneful magic. I just know it.
• "I got you some coffin nails while I was out the other day."
• Satan is well aware magic is stronger in the Devildom so he isn't surprised in the slightest when any spellwork you do is a bit more... aggressive? Then what you expect.
• However he certainly wasn't expecting Lady Hecate to visit you every now and again.
• He was dropping off a book on natural poisons when the door opens to reveal a chthonic goddess offering you words of wisdom.
• "Oh I love that book. Leave it on the alter." Neither of you look up, too engrossed in your own conversation.
• Satan, being one of the few demons in this house with at least two braincells to rub together, does as he's told.
#obey me#obey me x reader#om! shall we date#om lucifer x reader#om mammon x reader#om levi x reader#om satan x reader#mine#shrimp writes
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Hello, I want to start off by saying I hope you’re having a good day :)
I’m here to ask if there’s any specifics about the relationship Vlad had with his brothers. It’s noted that he avenged his older brothers death, is there any documentation that gives clues to what the Dracula brothers were like? Why Radu had went against Vlad or anything? Apologies if you have answered this in the past!
Thank you for all the education you bring, truly it is a fascination and super fun to read!
Salut!
Vlad had a complicated relation with his brother just like any other medieval royal family.
On a hand his your kin from the same blood, on the other hand he is a future candidate for the throne.
So it was quite a neutre relatioship, they didn't love eachother or hated.
Radu fought Vlad because they were in the oposite sides, just like why Stefan fought Vlad. It didn't put any bad blood between them. that's how things were back then.
So how his brothers were from the documents:
Radu:
He is quite cold and blank really, he alaways stick with the standard letters, never added something different to them so we can't make up an idea of his personality, he took as hostage the wives and children of the boyars that helped Vlad, He wasn't as respected as Vlad since the brasovans refuse to pay their debts to him, he would use treats like "I have power from the turks" and the ottomans described him as quite submissive (tho they describe everyone like that).
He was a good ruler tho, improve stuff, build churches, didn't sold the country to the ottomans (always a + in my book) but quite an empty ruler.
Mircea:
Mircea is a little different, He was a warrior like Vlad, He wanted kinda wanted to protect his brother but also not to, he was doing what it was told to.
The chronicler Jean the wavrin talked with him:
“In the meantime, the son of the lord of Wallachia went to visit the lord of Wavrin, to whom, after
greeting him, had an interpreter say that he was planning an enterprise against the Turks: and, if he
promised him not to judging him badly, he would tell him his secret; which the lord of Wavrin
absolutely swore to him. And then the interpreter, having received instructions from the son of
Wallachia, spoke in this way: "My father sent for me and told me that, if I do not avenge him of that
subachi of that castle of Georgye (Giurgiu), he will disown me and he no longer considers me his
son; because he is the one who betrayed him and who, with a safe conduct from the Turk, made him
go to the aforementioned Turk, then took him prisoner to the castle of Gallipoli, where he held him
for a long time with chains on his legs . Now the fact is that he and his Saracens have now
surrendered to my father, their lives and possessions must be spared, and they must be taken to
Vulgarye (Bulgaria); and I will go, along with 2000 Wallachians, two leagues from here, cross the
river and set up an ambush on their path: so, when they try to go to Nicopolis, I will be in front of
them, so I will put them all to death . ”
A thing to which the aforementioned lord of Wavrin did not answer a single word, neither good nor
bad. So the aforementioned son of Wallachia went away, to go and carry out his enterprise.“
In the same chronicle Jean the Wavrin actually tells Mircea about Radu being molested which I find quite a weird topic to talk about with a 15-year old boy in his way to butcher a garnizon of ottomans and just came back from a crusade but alright.
At Varna Mircea was the only guy that did something, as much as Murad had to threaten him that will kill his 2 brothers if he continues
From the chronicle of Beheim (He's a poet, the author of most of the brutal things you read on the internet about Vlad. so most likely as trustworthy as a Russian news station): " Many of them, a countless number, were killed. When the Emperor(Murad II)
heard what great losses his men were suffering, he sent a message to Trakal(Dracul/Mircea): if he did not stop fighting before more messages came to him, he would kill his two brothers whom he had captured. He would do this if he did not show restraint in battle."
Which Mircea did, tho this action had drastic consqueces. here is a video about Mircea
I don't think Vlad was bother that much about Mircea's death but how was he killed, all people with noble blood like the boyars and ruler must be killed by sword (decapitation), when the pargars of Brasov buried Mircea alive they tehinically said they don't consider the Basarabs nobles.
Vlad IV The Monk:
This guy most likely was just a random monk and had nothing to do with the Draculesti, could be a step brother or something but it just speculations, Vlad mentions him in a letter from 1457 martie 14:
"...But now we have heard and fully understood
from the people of this priest of the Wallachians, who calls himself son of a lord..."
Here Vlad IV did something unfanthomly based, he left.
He quit being a pretender to the throne and went back to being a monk. He will become a ruler in 1481.
He was a nice guy, didn't fight, write letters a lot, build and gifted churches (many churches), rule for 13 years, lived to be 71 (Which is the supreme proof that he was not a draculesti, all of them die in their 40s or younger, even Mircea the elder(BTW He's called "The Elder" because of Vlad's brother Mircea, there was a young one and an elder one)).
So basically all of them got along pretty well, tho it was quite hard to be a brother back then, Ask Mehmed's brothers. Their relationship was sufocanting to say the least.
I think Vlad liked his sister the most, Alishandra.
He gave her 2 villages and married her to a boyar from prahova, pure brotherly love if you ask me.
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okay @kohakhearts I just used the generator so this is the crack fic you received
fic under the cut
Slade gets a lot of weird contracts. Part of being the Best in the Biz™ is that all the absolutely insane shit that the small fries can't handle gets sent to him—and the shit the small fries can't handle is either way above their paygrade (re: sometimes he gets paid to murder actual gods) or it's just too weird to be taken seriously by those who haven't been around long enough.
Not Slade tho. Slade has seen some shit. Done some shit too, but that's neither here nor there. The point is that that only Slade could be contracted to murder—checks notes—possessed, killer animatronic robots for a childrens pizza joint.
He cannot make this shit up.
But the pay is good, and destroying a robot cant be that different from killing a live target, and he's bored as hell because he hasn't been able to torment a teenager or his kids in a while, so why not?
The pizza joint, Freddy Faxbears Pizza, is downright grody. Is this place still operable? It shouldnt be if it is. It's a walking healthcode violation, and that's not even including the murderbots he's about to turn into murderedbots.
Slade draws his sword and starts sweeping the place. He had to access Freddy's from a skylight in the office, which, according to his blueprints, is furthest from the stage rooms where the animatronics should be, provided they're not wondering around. The office itself is clear, so he moves into the hallway, checks the closet, and then heads into the kitchen.
The kitchen is where things get a little dicey though.
He follows his normal sweeping procedure, but when he walks past one of the counters, he notices a strange book on the counter.
Death Note, it's titled, no author listed.
Idly, Slade picks it up, wondering if maybe there's some intel in it that could be useful. Instead, he finds a long list of overly complicated middle school burn book type instructions.
“Useless,” he mutters and tosses it over his shoulder and onto the ground.
“Well that's rude,” someone says behind him.
Before they can even finish the sentence, he's swinging his sword sword sword, his (not)diamond sword directly at the figure—
Only for his sword to go right through.
“Motherfucking ghosts and shit,” he curses and swings again.
“Now, hey, that's not nice :(“ the goth ghost says. He seems very unperturbed by the whole thing.
“Didn't try to cut your head off to make friends,” Slade points out and tries swinging again. Every strike just goes straight through this guy though. Nothing at all like the animatronics he was contracted to kill.
Probably for the best actually that this thing isn't one of the attractions. It's an absolute horror show.
“You're not what I'm here for,” he moves to go around the thing.
“Hey wait!” it shouts. “You forgor your notebook!”
Slade glances back at the selfproclaimed Death Note, then hefts his sword up so the monster can see it clearly. “Don't need it.”
“B-b-b-b-but—”
Slade doesn’t stick around to listen.
After the kitchen is more hallway. He gets, like, two steps in that fucked up ghost guy materializes through the wall and in his way. “Listen buddy,” it grumbles even as it's face stays pulled in that rigour mortis grin. “You're the first human to actually go through the building in a long time. Do you have any idea how long I've been stuck here?” he shouts.
“Don't care,” he steps around the creature again.
The thing grumbles and follows behind with its massive wings. “You're a killer, yeah? I can tell. I'm a shinigami. Well that notebook will let you kill with nothing but a name and face! Think about it! You could get your jobs done in a fraction of the time!”
Just then, a giant, robot chicken lurches from around the corner with thundering steps. Slade casts the shinigami a look, then calmly asks, “Hey, what's your name?”
The chicken does not respond. Slade holds out his sword and lets it run into it, then disembowel its metal guts.
It falls to the ground easily.
The next three robots go much the same, and not a single one offers up its name.
“There. I dont need your notebook,” he says smugly and saunters towards the exit.
“I'll admit, that was entertaining,” the shinigami says. Slade gets the impression the creature is grinning even wider somehow.
“Happy to help,” he says sarcastically. He reaches the front door and tries to open it, but nothing happens. “Weird.” He turns to go back through the building to use the skylight again.
“Wait, you forgot the notebook!” the shinigami protests as Slade pulls the desk under the light. “Even if you dont use it for killing, you can use it to extort others, or manipulate their every move prior to their death! You could sell it even!”
That…could be useful, he supposes, but it also takes all the fun out of murdering and tormenting. “Eh, I'll pass.”
The shinigami growls like a feral dog. “Fine!” he yells and pulls out his own notebook. “This is the end of you, Slade Wilson!”
“That wont work on me,” Slade points out. He hops on top the desk.
“What?” he yells. “Why not?”
Slade shrugs. “I once came back from the dead because I caught leprosy post-mortem, and this place is a massive healthcode violation. I'll just heal again.”
Then Slade pulls himself out the window before the shinigami realizes that that shit doesn't apply once he's out of the building.
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❤️🔥...written ship...❤️🔥
@november-solarstorms
hey there! here is a ship coming in hot, thank you so much for requesting xx
also i’ve said this before but to everyone who requests with such a detailed description- you are so sexy for making my job that little bit easier
~ marvel's spiderverse~ hobie brown❤️🔥
Now, getting this ship done was such a challenge. You provided me with such an in-depth description which resulted in so much indecisiveness but yes, since you are currently seeing this ship, you would know that I ship you with our favourite Brit Hobie Brown. I was so tempted to ship you with Gwen however, it felt like too much of a good thing, you were both a bit too similar and since that was the case, I just had to go with Hobie. There is something so intriguing about you, despite being an open book there is this sense of mystery that lingers, and while I remain completely baffled Hobie will just get it. His love of the unorthodox leads him straight to you, and once he finds his thoughts lingering on every small thing you do, he will make his attraction known. He’s a no bullshit type of guy when it comes to his feelings, he acknowledges them and will gladly express his undying love. In this case it was his persistent admiration that slowly morphed into something deeper, his attraction to you was off the charts but he remained grounded in the fact that his heart was beating in a way it hadn’t before.
It's obvious that he has fallen in love with your dancer posture and your physical traits but what he adores the most is the girl hidden beneath all of that. The girl who is as introverted as she is extroverted, you literally take the introvert stereotype and add a good helping of spice to the mix. And it’s important to mention that he for sure could see right through your resting judgemental bitch face considering he also possesses a variant of that bitch face, which leads to the fact that he is fully content with the idea of neither of you trying to change that. You both experience this sense of self-acceptance which ultimately leads to the conclusion that you love each other because you dish honesty out to each other and anyone else who happens to be within a 5 foot radius.
This may seem like a very loud and rambunctious relationship but there is just something that grounds the two of you, it’s actually a lot more loving and wholesome than you both let on even if your love language is an even split between flirty retorts and insults. The insults that come from him are laced in the gentlest forms of love, which becomes more apparent when you take into consideration just how much he swoons over all your hobbies and interests. Don’t get him wrong he doesn't have a fascination with your hobbies (at least not all of them) but they get way more attractive when you do them. He wouldn’t bat an eye if he saw Miles scale a building but man if he sees you rock climbing, he would respectfully be on his knees.
Another thing that Hobie prides himself over is the fact that he understands you so well, which is quite amazing considering you both have completely different ways of expressing yourselves. Part of this comes from the fact that Hobie follows his instinct, so while you don’t empathise openly with others Hobie has enough instinct to know that you have some semblance of care for him.
I will leave this ship on the note that there really isn’t anything that can be said, it just is, the fact that you and Hobie complete each other in such a rare way seems out of the ordinary and it is. As you spend time with your punkish boyfriend you marvel at how extraordinary he really is.
#marvel ships#marvel matchups#spiderverse ships#spiderverse matchups#spooktober halloween ships#seeing red edition#grunge red comic aesthetic
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178. Awakened, by PC and Kristin Cast
Owned: No, library
Page count: 290
My summary: Zoey is out on a Scottish island, recuperating with Stark from her recent brush with death. But Neferet's plans are coming to fruition. After sacrificing one of Zoey's friends, she chases Zoey out into the open, ready to take her revenge for all that Zoey has done. But all is not well outside of their conflict. Stevie Rae and Rephaim don't know how to feel about each other. Kalona is breaking free of Neferet's grasp. And cracks are forming in the House of Night...
My rating: 1/5
My commentary:
We're in the home stretch now with the House of Night books - thankfully. I keep thinking that they're going to get less shit as we go, but they keep finding new ways to make me wonder how the hell these things even got published. I know vampire novels were huge in the post-Twilight boom, but still! Actually, these are less and less about vampires as they go on - kinda reminds me of the Anne Rice book Queen of Darkness, where everything gets a bit new age-y and neo-Pagan, to the point where you have trouble remembering that this is technically a vampire series. I wonder if Cast read Anne Rice? She strikes me as being the sort to have read Interview with the Vampire and, consciously or unconsciously, mimicked it. Anyway. Waffling aside. Let's get down to it
You know it's starting off bad when the book opens with Neferet using her influence to sleep with young men, cementing this series' strange attitude to sexually active women. Neferet is defined by her sexuality, her attraction to and possessiveness of Kalona being counted against her, even though there are perfectly legitimate other reasons to hate her. Aphrodite had this too, back in the day - being sexually active is a way to show that your female villain is truly bad, despite the female heroes being just as sexually active and attracted to their partners. Zoey and Stark sleeping together is never demonised, and is even shown as being a good and wholesome thing, yet Neferet is a slutty slut slut slut for having sexual encounters with men. It's not the dubious nature of the consent on show that seems to be the bad thing here, it's just her being sexually active, and it rubs me up the wrong way. Furthermore, Neferet's self-serving evil is just…not interesting. She's not hammy enough to be a Disney-villain style bad guy, but neither is she nuanced enough to be interesting. She's evil because she wants power for her sake and will stop at nothing to get it; contrast Zoey and friends, who never wanted power but were chosen to take it and do so reluctantly. Apparently ambition makes you bad, now. Who'd have thunk?
I hate to sound like a broken record, but we've got even more of the bad-boy-that-I-can-save thing going on here with Kalona and Rephaim. Kalona doesn't really know what he wants, but he doesn't want to be under Neferet's thumb, and schemes to get away from her. Meanwhile, he's invading Stark's body, but it seems only when Stark and Zoey are having sex, which is creepy as all hell. Rephaim and Stevie Rae are struggling through their whole 'I want you but I can't' star crossed lovers bullshit, which ends with Rephaim gaining Nyx's favour (despite! literally! murdering! people!) and becoming a real boy. Or, at least, not a bird boy. I look forward (sarcasm) to the widower of Rephaim's most infamous murder victim being treated like he's unreasonable for being uncomfortable that the guy who killed his wife is basically just given a free pass by everyone else. Ugh. It's clearly just here to serve that bad-boy fantasy, and we've got two separate bad-boy storylines for the price of one here! Cast…doesn't seem to know what to do with a character who isn't (for women) a reluctant hero or bitchy anti-hero, or (for men) a bad boy who can be changed or…actually, that's all the prominent male characters. The friend circle, despite being set up as being vital to Zoey with their element affiliations, have near-completely fallen by the wayside, only showing up for snarky one-liners or attempts at pathos. (More on that later.) There's just too many people in this series, and it doesn't help that Cast just keeps piling them up with each new book.
The final moment in the book comes when Neferet needs to sacrifice a wise person with ties to Cherokee history to make a new vessel to serve her - you think she's going to use Zoey's grandma, but she's out at a powwow, but it just so happens that Zoey's mother is going to visit. She ends up being the sacrifice, and Zoey is sad about it, which is stupid for two reasons. One, while it's reasonable for Zoey as a character to have complicated feelings about her mother despite saying that she hated her in earlier books, Zoey's mother hasn't come up in the narrative in a while. In fact, she's not even gotten a mention for the last few books, ever since the religious fundamentalists dropped out of the narrative. So playing the moment for pathos ultimately doesn't work, because the reader will have to be reminded that Zoey even has a mother - she's not given her a thought for a long time. Two, this doesn't make any sense as a choice for Neferet. Can't she just…wait another day until Zoey's grandma comes back? What is stopping her doing that? It just strikes me as Cast wanting to fake out that Zoey's grandma was going to die, then ultimately not wanting to pull the trigger on it. It's just clumsy writing.
And finally, let me talk about the most ridiculous thing to happen in this series to date - which, if you've been keeping up, is a title which has some stiff competition. Let me set the scene. Jack, one half of the gay couple in these books and the one whose personality basically consists of being feminine, emotional, and very stereotypically gay, is planning a party for Zoey's return. He wants to sing at it. Specifically, Defying Gravity from Wicked. Even more specifically, the Glee version. He's practicing this when Neferet shows up looking for an incorruptible innocent to sacrifice to the Darkness. After predictably failing to corrupt him, she nominates him as the sacrifice, and Jack is killed. But just the way this is written is laughable - the fervent love Jack has for Glee (which isn't at all a stereotype), ridiculous lines like Neferet asking if Jack is defying her and him responding with the lyrics, being comforted by Kurt and Rachel as he's dying, and the fact that he literally dies singing…it's all just beyond parody. This is meant to be a hugely emotive moment, but it's ruined by not only being silly as all hell, but also because Jack has been such a nonentity to this point. He got even less focus than Damien and the other non-Stevie Rae members of Zoe's inner circle, and doesn't even have a gift from Nyx. (His affinity for tech is mentioned as a gift in an early book, but that gets dropped almost instantly.) I genuinely could not believe what I was reading as I was going through this section. It's absolutely ridiculous, and yet another piece of bafflingly poor writing.
Well, that's over for now. Time for something completely different - a history of sex work in Georgian London!
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ahhhhh it’s not showing up for you?? Damn…
Oh well here’s a quick recap(rereading this whole thing now…it’s not a quick recap ifjwnwbdns), you’re not missing much tho…
so they had this “we don’t need anyone else” type of mentally😳, it was really just the two brothers + people who decided to follow them bc of their charisma and good looks(which I agree with the one person in the other post, the older brother was very attractive…it’s sad he didn’t age well neither of them did actually). The “Kanto Union” group tried to recruit them but they denied. The “Kanto Union” didn’t like this and had it out for the two brothers since (talk about not accepting rejection, Kisaki move right here). After this the brothers saw that they needed a group so the whole “Shinjuku JAXX” thing was formed.
The incident at the club (the club was called “Flower” lol, like how Ran and Rindo both mean a type of flower) was that someone supposedly saw the younger brother there and “Kanto Union” sent someone there to kill him. It wasn’t the younger brother tho it was a civilian who looked like him and this whole thing actually destroyed the whole “Kanto Union” (which funny story apparently Wakui was a part of??he said he was a scout for the “Kanto Union”). The dude who murdered the civilian ran off to hide in the Philippines, but I couldn’t find anything on whether he was arrested or still in hiding. The Kimura brothers went into hiding and the younger one was arrested a couple years back for drug possession, although I can’t find if he was just fined or served jail time or if he’s still in jail.
I’m assuming the boxer guy you found is Junshi Urita, he is friends with them. If the boxer had was covered in head to toe in tattoos then yes it’s him lol. He does everything from acting to fighting to book writing. He actually wrote a book about his “adventures with the Kimura brothers”. These days he mostly posts YouTube videos, he’s also had the older brother of the Kimura brothers as a guest among other older delinquents. He has a very “old 40 year old man” look these days. The public hasn’t seen the younger brother but his arrest was broadcasted on TV. The years weren’t kind…
And yes chifuyugangshitt found them!
(\__/)
(つ▀¯▀)つ I became Yamagishi
-no.1
Also what is that coral thing dkwjdbbwnwnwn OMEGA VIBES
Oh wow that really does sound like them! I wouldn't be suprised if Wakui took a lot of inspiration from them. Cool to find out though!!!
Nah the boxer is someone called Kimura Sho, I think he just shares a name which is why he popped up instead.
(ADFGVHH DON'T MENTION THE CORAL THING! THAT WAS OUT OF CONTEXT!)
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Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 79
I have not been alone for three weeks and it is doing me few favors; I am neither hale nor possessed of any kind of decent routine whatsoever, but it is June and such things are in season. I have not been reading other than snippets of a manual on shorthand. I would like to change that sometime soon, but I doubt it will. So it goes. I’ll get back in the saddle (jump back on the wagon? I feel off it.) eventually.
This is not a rerun, but it feels like one to me — in avoiding posting about this book for something like two years, I’ve accidentally gathered enough thoughts to constitute several versions of what this will turn out to be. Steven Sherrill’s The Minotaur Takes a Cigarette Break; 2000; a John F. Blair, Publisher joint.
The How
Blair means Southeastern stuff, and maybe you could intuit that being the connection. You’d be wrong, mostly; I think I saw this mentioned by a tumblr artist using it for inspiration in like 2017 and the title stuck in my head. It’s a good title. Good hook, good sound. Obviously I would say that.
The Text
This is not really a book review series, which is a good thing for this book because if I had to review it, I simply wouldn’t. I have lots of thoughts about the work as written and the promises I wish it kept, but I simply don’t have it in me to drag them all out into the open.
I love its ideas — the Minotaur made a bargain for his life and now works as a line cook at a steakhouse in the southeastern US; he is Just A Guy but also the Minotaur; being the Minotaur is complicated but almost exclusively in ways that’re completely unremarkable, actually — and I love many of the ways it goes about them — I think of the words languid and greasy and sympathetic — but I cannot love it. It did not earn enough of my respect to pull of what it tried to pull off, and I think its grime and pseudo-nontraditional machismo are just self-satisfied enough to collapse any commentary they might have borne.
It is often very pretty, it is often very observant in general and about the Southeast in specific, it is often patient with detail and scene, it is often extremely well grounded and I like it for those things. I offer a partial recommendation on those terms. I think it is a good exercise (sensu workout) as a reader because not once did I feel respected by it. Un-recommended for that. I wish it did anything for me as a person who sometimes writes things, but while there’s craft here it’s not the kind I felt taught by.
To its credit, the small chapters that aren’t prose — sometimes lyric, in one case a family tree — are the right tonal choice and overall it lives up to my very personal expectation of Greek myth-influenced modern fiction. I spent several years worth of childhood nights listening to the same three CDs of dramatized Odyssey stories on repeat, which explains way more than I should feel comfortable giving away.
The Object
Yeah, it’s fine. General market paperback. I do not mind it.
The Why, Though?
It turns out I have a mounting obsession with disappointing novels like this. At least two of them were written by middle aged English professors and all of them fail to deliver on their extremely promising premises. Most of those failures are because they don’t realize they feel the wrong kinds of personal. I am not interested in failing marriages as experienced by Prester John or commentaries on the human condition punctuated by mythically medically awkward sex. I would not mind those things if there were significant substance beside.
At this point I feel compelled to find more books of this very specific type (and I know there are more of them) out of a sense of morbid completionism. All these good characters wrapped in excellent ideas, all mangled badly, and I want to suffer all of them just in case one is accidentally poignant.
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