Durge brings his pet Gnolls to Moorise Towers

I'm rereading TSH after a few years and I used to love Henry but at a second glance he's so. Annoying. Im only halfway through the book but every time he says something it just sounds fake and like he's trying reallyyy hard to fake human emotion or lying about something to manipulate someone and it's just not. Convincing. Do u get what I mean?

had to go dig up the 10 page tsh retrospective i wrote for / inflicted on @dharmawangsa way back in 2021 right after finishing tsh just to demonstrate that even richard's hard-on for him Never conned me into buying henry's schtick. for all that he's smart and funny and has gravitas he's also just a rich kid LARPing at the end of the day.

that said it's not like i dislike him as a character- for one thing he's sooooo funny. and he has his moments, esp in part 1, of just being in on the joke or otherwise compelling. it's hard to argue that he's not one of the standout characters of the book, for as dominant as he is. he's at his best when he's interacting with people who aren't all that bothered by his Vibe- bunny, francis sometimes, richard in a bad mood- bc he's more of a real person then.

to-date i still find it hard to make my mind up abt henry, as per my ramblings in the screenshot. i don't know if tartt intended for the characters to undergo such a jarring shift between the start and end of the book- to some extent obviously yes, bc blah blah richard disillusionment, but with henry and charles specifically it feels a little unearned, like we could have used a bit more development on how the two sides of them coexist. but it left me with a lot of questions and i don't think all of them can be put down simply to the general ambiguities inherent in the book and/or narration.

that said, for me i think my biggest / realest gripe w henry is that he's the self-assigned team leader but he is consistently the one causing problems (he sets up the bacchanal! bunny reads his diary! it's his idea to kill bunny!) and then resolutely not managing the emotional fall-out bc he sees it as Not A Real Problem that affects him. like no, henry, you can't mastermind elaborate schemes & rope your friends in and then leave them to break down completely while you blossom as a juvenile murderer and make quips about gardening. fuck off. i think by his suicide he may have wised up a little to the mess he'd made, but it was also a convenient escape allowing him to die a hero rather than face mundane punishment.

...then again all 3 tsh personality quizzes i've taken have assigned me with henry so maybe i just need to talk to a therapist.

Hey there, I hope you're having a nice day! This is for the Fanfic Writer's Directors Cut thing. I would like to request anything you have for Alduin's Bane. It's one of the best fics I've ever read (and is by far my favorite AlduinxDragonborn fic.) and I would love to know more about anything you'd like to share/commentate on from it!

If you'd like something more specific, maybe the first few paragraphs of chapter 35? Where they discuss Alduin's ability to eat souls and such.

Thank you!

thank you for the ask i was hoping to get some because i like to talk about my fics so much my roommates are sick of it

i have Much in the way of director's cut commentary on the fic to the point i could fill like several essays with real life mythological inspiration and other plans i had to scrap but this one i can talk a normal amount about (i hope)

a lot in the way of elder scrolls mythology isn't explained in full or is directly contradictory or unexplained, but unlike in real world mythology where you can simply say its only a reflection of the culture if you wanted to analyze it, the gods are real life sentient beings who at times have a very proactive role in people currently alive. so stories about random stuff alduin does or how he is just supposed to sit and wait for the end of the world didn't make sense in the larger plan of the gods to me, especially as an aedric being. in canon it's implied all dragons can eat souls (at least based on what odahviing says when he explains alduin's hunting grounds he 'selfishly guards' implying he doesn't let the others eat souls), but i think it was supposed to be a core function of alduin and the other dragons as gods and aedric beings. if you go the war hypothesis it could have been used in combat, but really the idea i was going for was:

people die and want to go to sovngarde, a particular realm of aetherius. if they are deemed unworthy, which seems like it could happen fairly often, i see many not wanting to take the consolation prize of wandering around some other afterlife. so what probably happened was alduin was tasked with devouring the souls of those who were unworthy but refused to stop bumming around sovngarde crowding up the fields. however, as his appetite and rebellious nature grew, he started to eat any souls he wanted, including those who are worthy and simply battling for eternity in the fields. which is a problem.

i also imagine it would also not be that hard to simply kill someone and eat their soul on the spot. they would be dead dead after that. super dead in fact. and given this is kind of an op power (so long as alduin is hungry) it probably has pissed off more than a few daedra who have to see their loyal followers get killed and eaten immediately by the aedric twilight god. i do whoever think a daedra would be far too big for him to eat so that is at least off the table.

i am planning on elaborating on this further in the fic with some of the daedra stuff to come in the form of molag bal and hermaeus mora stuff, but i dont think this is a spoiler to talk about or anything. i've hinted at it enough times and implied it i think the commentary

also im really glad you like it it means a lot to me. this started as a fun little idea (the first like 3 chapters were just gonna be a little one shot) and has blown up into a very complex story i never intended to tell but im really loving. to know other people also rly love and appreciate it makes me

anyways let me know if you have any other questions or things you want me to talk about. writing has been hard atm with everything in my life being nonsense but i am constantly thinking about this story and the world building and lore ideas i have for it i think i could talk about it for like 5 hours

ok i mentioned earlier that i wanted to make a fnaf au that sort of does it’s own thing and is it’s own beast entirely so I spent a few hours writing a few things down and here are the basic plot elements nd stuff!! fair warning tho it is REALLY long so that’s why the readmore is there

you play as a 2nd year college student whose on vacation with 6-7 of your friends who all go to different schools. ur all on vacation in ur small hometown around the midwest region of the us, none of the friends except for one is rlly worth noting (bc i’ve yet to rlly flesh them out)

it takes place in the modern era, around summertime, and right near the end of everyones vacation.

the one friend of note I mentioned is a guy called Lester Smith! He’s really into electronics and his dream job is to become something akin to an imagineer . you and him go way back but not in the good way. You used to bully him a lot in middle-high school for being the “weird kid” and ultimately fucked up his dreams. This is because at the end of senior year, there was a robotics competition you both partook in, both in different teams, and the reward for the winning team was a fully paid scholarship for the most prestigious stem school in the state. Lester would’ve won, but the only reason he didn’t is because YOU broke into his garage late at night and tampered w his robot so that it would fail and make him seem like he was inept at programming. That’s what happened, and YOU won the scholarship instead. This was a massive blow to Lesters hopes as his parents weren’t able to pay for a proper college for him and his grades in other areas weren’t that good so he just goes to a community college now. since then you and him have became friends as he mostly seems to be on good terms w it and doesn’t SEEM to be onto you for what you did to him. you two like to talk about animatronics a lot and it’s apparent that he’s probably way smarter than you and that he probably deserved that scholarship way more than you do.

also none of your friends are accquantinced with Lester, you only just introduced them to him over break, and they seem to be getting along well. For now

thankfully for Lester his luck has turned around, he’s been showcasing these new entertainment animatronics he’s worked years on to multiple restaurant chains but they’ve all wanted nothing to do with his project because of Lester’s lack of any sort of resume etc. it all seemed doomed to fail until this local restaurant called Freddy’s (which genuinely is not affiliated with the Freddy Fazbear company because....the Fazbear company does not exist in this universe!!! it ditches the canon ALTOGETHER. the place the plot takes place in is just called Freddy’s for continuity purposes and to keep the name of the franchise) humored his offer and took him up on it. probably because the company is losing money each day and is likely only doing this so it can bring customers in and not be bankrupt

OH YEAH ALSO Freddy’s is given the funding to go thru with the animatronics initiative from an anonymous angel investor which has also allowed them to expand it and be relatively financially well off and has allowed Lester to make more animatronics and expand the place! so that’s fun

the hypothetical game takes place thruout the week-long testing period for the animatronic prototypes and the restaurants renovations are nearly done and they also need extra night guards to make sure everything goes smoothly. so you and your friends all decide to pool in and help Lester with the testing week by all becoming night guards and working together at the same time since it’s your last week together and you have nothing else to really do plus you could use the extra money but YAY!!!! FRIEND MOMENCE

Throughout the hypothetical game Lester who is also a nightguard serves as your phone guy stand-in. He calls every night to chat with you and the others, telling you about tips and tricks to make sure the animatronics work as intended, goofing off with you, infodumping about his cool robots, being a pretty neat dude and having fun. it’s so cool.

as mentioned before it ditches the series standard 5 canonical night format and goes with a full week of 7 canonical nights instead. the first night is relatively tame but as it goes on the other nightguards (who are your friends) start disappearing one by one....aka they’re being KILLED by the animatronics. you can’t really know this is happening at first because all your friends have made it clear they have to go back home on different days, and your friends disappear on the days they’re set to leave home so nothing seems amiss at first because you, and everyone else who’s still left, just thinks they headed back home like they said they would, which Lester assures you is what’s going on. but eventually in the last 2 nights you and Lester are the only ones left and it becomes apparent that your friends, or rather what remains of them, never got out at all.

remember how i said that Lester serves as the phone guy stand in and how he helped you with the animatronics? turns out a lot of the advice he fed you through calls actually ended up aiding him in killing all your friends, and technically you’re sort of to blame for why they’re not around. 50% of the advice he’s given you ends up hurting your friends and making the animatronics go after them.

plot twist! Lester is fully aware that you ruined his life at that robotics competition and as soon as he got home from it he could tell that someone, specifically you, tampered with his robot, and has been planning to brutally get back at you for years and is incredibly jealous and spiteful toward you for obvious and... pretty justifiable reasons, all things considered

on the 7th night Lester locks both you and himself in Freddy’s with no way for either of you to escape. he’s then killed by one of the animatronics and that animatronic, now possessed with his soul and with his consciousness stored inside, chases after you and tries to kill you. this is along with the other animatronics, who are now all haunted by your dead besties who died on the previous nights, partially controlled by Lester and enraged that you let them die. you spend the rest of the night evading them, but in the last few hours they all combine together into a single animatronic who is entirely controlled by Lester and goes after you even MORE and the difficulty ofc ramps up to 100.

the only way to beat the night is by going into the secret storage room and grabbing all the fireworks that you and your friends were going to set off on your last night together as a group on break - which is like, a lot of fireworks - but had to cancel due to bad weather (which was the 2nd night of the game, right around when ppl were disappearing) and luring the Mega monster animatronic to it and setting it off, destroying Freddy’s and everything in it. wether ur player character also dies in this explosion is up to ur interpretation and their fate is left ambiguous as the Newspaper Article(tm) published after night 7 states that you simply “disappeared” and doesn’t elaborate on if ur alive or not.

so yeah!!! that’s the basic plot and backstory of my fnaf au. i’ve always thought it would be really cool if there was a fnaf game based off the slasher genre (w Lester being the slasher-type villain here), that concept has always worked rlly well in my mind nd i gotta say i’m having SO much fun workshopping it. i’ll get to designing the characters and the animatronics REAL soon and i’m definitely gonna have a ball w those aspects. i’ll also probably find a name for it other than “MY FUNNY FNAF AU” so that’s cool. ok i’m done rambling im so excited to flesh this out byeeee ^^

my 294847389229th asry hot take of the week is that i don't actually think ryuu put asougi on a pedestal the way ppl think, rather his main issue lies in the inherent pressure and complications of feeling like you have to fill in the shoes of a dead man in a career you never intended to have bc not letting his dreams die with him is your way of coping with grief (though i also think it's important to point out that this wasn't ryuu's idea in the first place, it was sherlock's)

will elaborate on this later but im very tired rn

Hello yes, could you elaborate on the Comte wedding event pleease. Crying and fangirling and dying are all acceptable. I missed it and I adore your rambles about Comte? Thank you either way.

!!! I’d be delighted to!! And awww, I’m so glad :D I love to write about him in any capacity, it makes me so happy to know people enjoy it when I do! Tysm for the full license to cry/fangirl/die because lbr it ain’t a Comte event if all three of those things don’t happen .Please don’t worry, I don’t mind talking abt it anyway! 💕💕💕

Okay my fellow Comte stans, you know the drill! I’ll be placing the details of the Wedding Story Event (jpn version) below the cut! Please don’t read if you want to wait for the official translation, and I hope you enjoy if you do take a peak! c:

AIGHT Y’ALL in fair Verona where we lay our scene-- This event begins on a lovely summer day with Comte and MC at a boutique picking out a wedding dress for their upcoming ceremony. As usual, she provides a bit of background as to how we got here. Comte doesn’t have a proposal event (as far as I know) like the other suitors because he actually proposes marriage in his MS. I won’t go too far into details just in case, but they essentially swear their love to each other in a church at night--just the two of them. (I’m not 100% sure, but I think this event takes place on the anniversary of the vow that they shared, what Comte called becoming “a vampire’s bride.” Yes it’s as hot as it sounds AND I LOVED IT). Now, despite their private promise to each other, Comte does specify that he fully intends to have a public wedding whenever she feels comfortable doing that. As such, this event is picking up from there.

With all the nitty gritty settled, it’s time to get to the fun bits. So Comte is weaving in and out of the dresses, trying to find the perfect one for his beloved. MC is equal parts exasperated but amused, and she notes that it reminds her so much of when she first debuted in high society (reference to the beginning of Comte’s MS). Back then, when she agreed to debut, he told her that he would immediately send word to his tailor to make the necessary preparations. It’s a kind of nostalgic moment; she remembers how thorough and excited he was (”I’ll be sure to show off your every charm”), and he’s effusing that energy in the boutique too. Eventually he settles on two of them and requests that they both be prepared, and MC sputters. She’s like Comte???? W H Y we only need one dress???? And he insists that, since it’s a special occasion, there’s no harm in it is there? He also goes on to say that it is in line with her culture’s tradition of “dyeing the bride in the husband’s colors.” MC shoots back that the tradition doesn’t entail several wedding dresses for the bride, but he pays the correction no mind. Y’all. I loved this part because it just emphasizes how much of a LIL SHIT he can be. Like he’s 100% harmless but I was like BOI IF U DON’T--I WILL KISS UR CUTE FACE. YOU STOP THAT.

I find it interesting especially because it remains in line with a trend about Comte that is so arresting for me, something that I find so endearing about him. I’ll note other places in the event I find it, but in this moment he is revealing something critical: for all of his capacity to play with the language and expectations that other people have/use, he only ever uses it for good. Here he’s purely being playful (with a stark note of respect and awareness); he has no intention of overwhelming her or undermining her cultural expectations of what a wedding means. Especially because MC, even in her monologue, isn’t truly upset--she honestly seems to find it adorable and funny more than anything. It’s also clear that Comte is working within her comfort zones. While he would buy the entire damn boutique if she let him, he settles on two because he knows it would stress her out otherwise (MC tends to be p pragmatic, not really about extravagance she is a mood).

And so they make their selection and exit the boutique, and they’re walking arm in arm back to the carriage. Comte laments narrowing it down to only two, but he’s happy they found something nice. MC thanks him for bringing her along, but he says it’s only natural--he wanted to pick out the dress the world would see together, he would never be happy with it otherwise. MC melts (WHO WOULDN’T) and says she’s really looking forward to wearing them, and he’s shook AF. 

(OKAY BUT I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT THIS. DOES HE UNDERSTAND HOW TOUCHED I AM. DOES HE KNOW. His route hammers home this idea that for Comte, being with someone absolutely means being on the same page. It means being there for each other yes--but it also means making sure the other person feels wanted and included. He could have so easily just picked his favorite and been like “yeah this is what we’re going with.” But not only does he not do that, he refuses the very idea of a ceremony without it. He wants this to mean something for both of them, and he’s more than willing to put in the time and effort to ascertain that. I’M FUCKING TENDER OKAY. HE CARES SO MUCH AND I SOB)

He asks her if there’s anything else that she really, really wants for their wedding, and she thinks it through. It’ll be a reasonably sized wedding, with the men of the mansion in attendance and most of their closer high society friends. They’ve picked out a dress, the venue is set, the people closest to her will be there...she really can’t think of anything else? So she asks him if he has anything he really wants to do for the wedding, and he replies in the negative too, saying that “My only ideal wedding can be one in which I can see you at your most happy." ARE YOU KIDDING ME--Before MC can recover from that, he goes on: "Even now, I'm enjoying the preparations, and I want to do whatever I can for you." MC feels like she can never win against his sweet affection, so she nearly kills him with her answering line: "It’s more than enough. More than anything, being able to swear our love together again--to renew our vow--is the best part of it all." Comte is visibly shocked and is quiet for moment (MAN DOWN!!!!!!!!! VAMPIRE DOWN GET THE DEFIBRILATORS!!!!! LEONARDO PUT THAT LIGHTNING ROD AWAY I SWEAR TO GOD--) before he just replies with a “Is that so :>>>” And translating this nearly killed me [At the sight of his gentle smile, I smile back.] IM GOING TO SCREAM THEY ARE JUST SO TENDER IM SOFTE????????????

As they’re walking, Comte asks MC to tell him about weddings in her time. What were they like? He wants a reference point. She goes on to describe how ceremonies really range from formal to more informal affairs, and gets to a little custom that’s apparently held in Japan. When a groom intends to marry a bride, he will go to the bride’s family to ask for their approval. Comte visibly seems concerned about it, and I’m pretty sure he feels bad denying her that experience; not only did he propose to her without knowing any of that, her family isn’t within range to be able to honor it properly now. Even so, he keeps listening and comments now and again with a great deal of interest, paying close attention. He asks, what happens if the groom is rejected by the family? MC goes on to say that it’s a kind of test of perseverance: the groom is expected to ask/prove himself until he gets an answer in the affirmative. Internally, she notes that such a thing rarely ever happens irl--it’s mostly dramatized in movies and TV shows. She used to dream of how thrilling it might be to have someone do that for her, but it was mostly just a silly little fancy, nothing she was obsessed over. Comte, being a literal fucking legend, senses this emotional shift in milliseconds, and starts musing about something. When she tries to ask what’s up, he’s like not to worry leave everything to me.

PLEASE CUE THE CIRCUS MUSIC. BECAUSE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY GOING TO TURN INTO A CLOWN FEST.

So it cuts to them back home and Comte is asking Sebastian to give MC’s hand in marriage. Sebastian is utterly bEWILDERED and is like “I mean I understand I’m probably the closest relative she has right now but also WHAT!? YOU’RE MY BOSS/LORD I’M YOUR BUTLER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD”. Comte 100% is undaunted by this very normal reaction and insists that class/status has no place in matters like this, and Sebastian and MC are desperately trying to stop him from bowing his head/kneeling. MC notes she never expected him to take it to heart, tells him "Comte, you really don't have to go that far, it's a custom not a duty--" (IT’S SO FUCKING FUNNY????? YOU CAN FEEL THEIR MOUNTING CONCERN AND I CAN’T BELIEVE COMTE WAS STRAIGHT UP JUST “i am not above begging” AND THEY’RE LIKE YOU SHOULD BE YOU SHOULD BE ABOVE BEGGING)

The circus only escalates when Leo comes in LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF "damn...bahahahhahahaaaaa now THIS oughtta be good/interesting." MC (and I simultaneously) start yelling at him and he replies "What? Comte's already ready and willing, why stop him?" For whatever reason, this gives Comte an idea (NEVER A GOOD SIGN) and he’s like you know what? That’s actually perfect, get everybody in here I’m gonna ask them for permission too :D

Several things I want to say about this. 1. COMTE LITERALLY DOES NOT EVEN REACT TO LEO’S MOCKING HE JUST “omg ur face was useful for smth for once this gives me an idea” 2. META TIME. First and foremost, I seriously can’t deal. This man knows MC has nothing because of her traveling through time, no friends or family--he’s always so, so aware of what she’s sacrificing to be with him. It is never outside of his thinking. Not only does this decision solidify her presence as a member of their family (I’m just so UGLY SOBBING about the fact that he does not consider them all ANYTHING LESS--THEY ARE HIS CHIRREN AND HE LOVES THEM AND I’M SOFT) this is also such a brilliant, strategic move on his part. Not only is he doing this to fulfill her younger wishes of having someone be so confident in their love for her that they would insist on it in front of her family/loved ones--his doing this also solidifies her presence as his wife within the mansion from here on. There can be no mistake; this is an unquestionable statement as to how her identity has shifted in meaning, a powerful allusion to his possessive streak. (and WE LOVE THAT FOR US HELL YEAH) 

Furthermore, I continue to be fascinated by the way he keeps subverting traditional or expected forms of supplication. While many could see this as a yielding of his pride (and in some ways he undeniably is) this choice to acknowledge her culture’s customs yields much more valuable dividends for him. 1. MC--notorious for never betraying the things she wants, having trouble asking for anything--is have her dreams fulfilled even if they were just silly little fantasies from when she was young. He’s actively making her happy, and he gets to openly gush about how much he loves her (FOR HIM THIS IS THE DEFINITION OF A WIN-WIN YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND--) 2. This is a way for him to make amends and do proper respect to the marriage customs of her place/time, and that’s infinitely important to him. He’s trying to set a precedent; that even if he ever does make a mistake or neglect something (even if accidental) he will do his utmost to make it right, pride and money be DAMNED. 

While it can be argued that he’s just being silly and over-the-top, when you look closely this is 100% a clever, very mindful approach to their future. While it may partially have been executed on an emotional/excited whim, he is also claiming MC as his own in the most clear and respectful way possible. And tbh that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen 

So, after Leo walks in on them everyone else starts filing in one at a time (OKAY YOU CAN’T CONVINCE ME THAT THEY WEREN’T ALL HUDDLED UP TO THE DOOR SQUIRMING TO HEAR WHAT WAS GOING ON AND AT SOME POINT LEO SAID “omfg i gotta see this dumbass bitch on his knees” AND BLEW THEIR COVER/MADE THEM EVEN MORE CURIOUS):

Jeanne: "It's so noisy in here." 

Mozart: "What's going on?"

Comte: "Ah, excellent timing. I want to get permission from everyone."

Vincent: "?????? Did you do something wrong Comte?? What could you possibly need forgiveness for?"

Isaac: "A mistake made/wrongdoing by Comte?...Why am I dreading what it could be..."

Dazai: “Ah yes, yes I see, you are asking for a young lady's hand in marriage” (IM WHEEZING BC EVERYONE ELSE IS SO LOST AND HE'S JUST 100% ON THE BALL KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT'S GOING ON THE NARRATIVE DISSONANCE IM CRYING)

Theo: Young lady??? The hell are you going on about

So things are getting increasingly chaotic and MC is just [jfc this is getting out of hand, Comte they don’t even know what you’re asking them to do]. She tries to explain but falters, and Comte puts an arm around her--signals that he’ll give  them the context. So he tells them "You all know that our wedding day is approaching. As such, I'm asking you all for your approval in taking MC as my bride. No matter what happens, I promise to make her happy forever--for every moment, every second of our time together. Please, forgive my taking her" (WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEAD WAS IN MY HANDS IDK HOW MC DIDN’T DIE ON THE SPOT S I R. SIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) MC: [...Comte...My heart melts at his confession, at his earnest plea. It feels like every single iota of our feelings are infused in every word he speaks, teeming with the love shared between us in overwhelming measure.]

For a little while silence falls until Napoleon speaks up, and honestly? It was so sweet ;-; I tear up every single time: “Forgiven. You know how much I dislike formalities anyway. And besides, who could say no to le Comte?” MC notes that everyone murmurs in agreement and a kind of warmth settles in the room. Arthur notes that MC will be a Comtesse very soon and MC just. I’m going to be a WHAT now (”C-c-comtesse??”). And it’s so FUCKING FUNNY YOU CAN FEEL THE RED EYE EDIT MEME ON COMTE WHEN HE GOES “Oh? Is there anything wrong with that? Everybody said yes, after all :>” MC internally accuses them of ganging up on her, but reveals that more than anything she’s a little overwhelmed by the outpouring of love in the best way:

MC: [Overwhelmed with feeling; touched, a little shy, embarrassed, but also full of joy--my eyes burn at the edges with tears] “I'm glad everyone approves c:”

Comte: Agreed :> your country/homeland has a nice custom. A v important step to inviting my loved one into my life as my wife :>>>>

So it then cuts to them in Comte’s room after the circus and MC thanks him for the sweet confession in front of everyone, tells him how happy it made her. He insists that it was only natural he would, and that it isn’t even enough.

Comte: “I am the one...your life, your time as a human being; I'll be taking all of it from you.”

MC: [...Comte? He took my hand with a very serious expression]

Comte: "As I said before, I will make you a vampire someday."

MC: “Don't call it that--a price. I want to live with you too!”

MC notes that while she hasn’t made the leap yet, she knows she’ll be ready for it soon enough. 

Comte: “Thank you. But the last thing I want is to take things from you, I want to do everything I can to make you happy, to make you smile. Whether that means weddings, requests--anything in my power.”

COMTE REALLY SAID "she is entrusting me with her future and that means I have the responsibility of not only ascertaining her happiness, but proving my unwavering devotion to it" AND IM HOLLERING????? LADIES GET YOU A FUCKING MANS. MC finally begins to understand this, and she’s like OMFG is that why you went off so hard this afternoon???? And Comte’s like :>>>> guilty as charged, though I think I'm also just still excited about the wedding too, haha! They hug it out (YESSSSSSS LET ME H O L D) and MC asks him again if there’s anything he wants for the wedding too. Aight y’all I would be irresponsible if I didn’t warn you beforehand, get fucking tissues. I’m still upset abt his answer and I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL. He thinks about it for a bit, before kissing her forehead and saying “I suppose, can you pray for my happiness too? That's enough."

AIGHT IMMA GO BACK TO THE EVENT IN A SECOND BUT I GOTTA SAY. BITCH. BITCH ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME????? COMTE THAT ISN’T OPTIONAL THAT’S A GOD DAMN PREREQUISITE?????????????????? OFC WE WISH FOR YOUR HAPPINESS WHAT THE FUCK??????????????? THE A U D A C I T Y. I’VE NEVER BEEN MORE INSULTED IN ALL MY LIFE. OKAY RANT OVER.

MC is surprised but naturally agrees to it, having wanted that for him even without prompting. She continues to think on it, insisting that she wants to do something for him too. An idea sparks but it only says that she made preparations without telling him anything for now, preparing a tangible sign of her love for the wedding.

The premium end begin here. She’s getting dressed for the wedding, and she’s--as usual--in awe of his perfect selection of accessories/jewelry to go with the gown. She’s about to put on her shoes when she notices something odd, and there’s a knock at the door. Comte enters to ask if she’s ready, and they both freeze and stare at each other. They both sheepishly admit to being completely taken with the sight of the other, and they laugh about it together. Comte tries to ask if she’s ready again, and she assures him that she is--just that she found something unexpected in her shoes.

He explains that the coin is an English six pence. Sebastian told him that they are no longer made in her time, and Comte explains he acquired it about three hundred years ago in England when he was living there (he says that he kept it back then because he liked the design on it). He explains that there is a tradition, that the English would put a six pence in a bride’s left shoe in the hopes of wishing her good fortune and prosperity in her oncoming union. MC has her understandable and customary (JESUS I FORGET HOW OLD THIS MAN IS SOMETIMES) and he places a hand over hers that’s holding the coin when she starts staring at it. 

Comte: "Hey, MC....Time goes by, and various things will continue to change. Among them, it is only vampires who survive without dying or changing."

MC: "Comte..."

Comte: "I used to think that made it--made us--empty. But...I don't think that's the case anymore. I'm proud of being able to keep this undying, unchanging love for you."

[He put the coin back in my left shoe, and offered them to me--gentle as though they were made of glass(Cinderella's)]

MC spends this exchange on the verge of tears, but keeps it together for the wedding. It depicts their loved ones all around them as they walk down the aisle, and skips to the end of the ceremony. The priest tells Comte he may now kiss the bride (WHEN I WAS TRANSLATING IT SAID “KISS YOUR BUSINESS” AND WHEN I TELL YOU I WHEEZED), but just as he’s about to lift her veil--she stops him in his tracks. He’s confused, and says her name, but she reassures him that she just wants to offer him a wedding gift before he lifts it. Hidden in her bouquet are two pins that she had made, and she pins them to his jacket. They were made from preserved flowers, encased in metal to render them undying/everlasting. 

MC: [Me too...I want to wish for your happiness...]

MC: “For you, things might feel fleeting--like they just pass you by, are lost before you can grasp them. But even so, my feelings won't change; just like this preserved/undying flower and the life of a vampire--dedicated to [Comte's real name] in everlasting love."

COMTE.EXE HAS CURRENTLY SHUTDOWN. REBOOTING.

MC notes that his eyes get misty and he leans his forehead against hers.

MC: [Comte's real name]? 

Comte: .................I want to hug you as tight as I possibly can, but I'd hate to ruin the flowers/your gift to me

BITCH WHEN I TELL YOU I SOBBED. WHEN I TELL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 1. I CANT GET OVER THE FACT THAT HER GIFT IS NOT ONLY CANON BUT ITS LITERALLY ON HIS WEDDING SPRITE, HER LOVE IS A VISIBLE MANIFESTATION ON HIS PERSON ALWAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 2. THE FACT THAT SHE ONLY ADMITS TO BEING THE HAPPIEST SHE CAN BE WHEN SHE SEES HIM SO HAPPY TOO. THIS IS SO MUCH. SO M U C H

And so Comte lifts her veil and kisses her gently uwu cover ur eyes chirren, the hall erupts in raucous applause and the crowd starts congratulating them!! Comte then encourages everyone to have fun, and the reception takes on the vibe of a kind of social gathering. MC notes that he seems to prefer this level of interaction, just relaxed and everyone chill, and she turns to tell him that it seems like it’ll be fun! Before she can finish her sentence, he kisses her fiercely before leaning back with a sigh, "It's still not enough, but I'll save the rest for later tonight." BITCH!!?!?!??!??!? HOW THE FUCK CAN ANYONE FOCUS ON A STUPID PARTY WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, HELLO???????MC notes: [Everyone from the mansion that saw the kiss made fun of me endlessly, and I hid my face in my bouquet] SAVE HER. Once again, it skips to the end of the reception and they’re now in Comte’s room. (I will blink twice if I think you need tissues BLINKS TWICE) 

Comte: "Yup, perfect." [He places the flower pins I gave him next to THE hourglass in the room, looking pleased HNGNNGNGNNGGNGN MY EYE HOLES ARE SUFFERING

MC: "I'm glad you liked the gift c:" 

Comte: "It is proof of your unchanging love, of course I cherish it :>"

She’s just so happy to see him so delighted with it. He asks how she liked the ceremony, and she gushes about how much she loved it. He hugs her (AWWWWWWWWWWWW) and then he notes that while it was fun to celebrate, all he wants now is time with his wife (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA). He starts kissing her like the world is ending, and she says she needs to get changed--but he doesn’t care, says she’s fine as she is and that he wants her right now.

Aight usually I don’t get into epilogue territory, but honestly, this shit was JUST too good. Now this man made of magic asks MC if she’s wearing her bridal garter (you know, the one that usually comes with the whole bride ensemble in Western tradition). And she’s like ???? Uh, yeah, of course? Why... He says that he saw something interesting at a friend’s wedding reception once upon a time, and explains that the garter is usually removed and thrown to the bachelors (analogous to the bride’s throwing her bouquet, and whoever catches it will be the next to get married). PLEASE NOTE HE IS KISSING HER FOR LIKE 90% OF THIS IT’S AMAZING

MC: "So it's like the bouquet toss?" 

Comte: "Yes. Now then, how did he remove the garter...?”

HE DUCKS DOWN AND SHE’S LIKE COMTE!?!?

Comte: “...Ah yes, the groom removes it with his teeth >:D”

And so this man HAS THE TIME OF HIS LIFE tugging it down slowly under her dress, caressing her legs and loving every part of her. MC’s face is on fire, and she’s torn between being turned on and embarrassed. Eventually he reappears after teasing her MERCILESSLY and admits that he didn’t do it at the reception because he didn’t want anyone else to see her reaction. Blushing, shy, desirous--all of these feelings are his to keep and enjoy. (I!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!! HOW SUBTLY POSSESSIVE HE IS AAAAAAAAAA) MC notes internally that she feels the same way about him, how he only shows this intensely passionate side to her. Comte is uncharacteristically impatient and frenzied that night, and they both go at it.

It skips to midnight where the two are cuddling in the aftermath, just being cute and happy. Comte, the absolute MADLAD is already thinking about how to celebrate next year--and she just giggles at him (he’s a wackadoo but he’s her wackadoo LMFAO MOOD) and he laughs with her. They essentially swear to promise their love over and over in the future, and it just ends on that wholesome note :>>>

Also can I just. The fact that he lived for so long alone, but was always, always paying attention to all of these little things that are done with a person’s loved one ;-; that he would remember his friend doing that at his wedding and be like BROOOOO I WANNA DO THAT IF I EVER GET MARRIED!!!!!!!!!!! I just. It’s so heartbreaking and touching at the same time, I just want to hold him forever ;-; the fact that he doesn’t seem to worry as much about his own happiness, seems absolutely floored that MC would do anything in return. I JUST LOVE HIM WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE OF ME 

THIS IS WHAT PEAK PERFORMANCE LOOKS LIKE

Waste + 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 9, 11, 12, 13, 15

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

I knew Death of the Outsider was coming, and as the Outsider was my favourite character I really wanted to explore the theory of him becoming human—the game hadn’t been released yet so we had no idea how it’d actually end, just that Billie and Daud were working together to kill him. Since the Outsider functioned as a sort of moral compass, I was very curious to try and imagine how his canon characteristics and biases would translate into a human version of him; how would he experience the world? How would he come to terms with such a humbling existence? Where did he come from and who was he? How would he cope with his own mortality, human emotion, the consequences following his choices in the Void? And most importantly; how had his being the Outsider affected his humanity? There was so much I wanted to see explored, things I feel the previous games hinted at but never elaborated upon. I wanted to write a psychological sort of story where we’d really be able to feel and experience whatever passed in his mind, and I tried my best to use my knowledge as well as my own experiences—flaws I either observed within myself or others, ideas, thoughts and feelings influenced by bias, depression, trauma, etc. When in art school, most of my inspiration came from the transience of things; my fear of death. I really wanted to take the subject and explore it through the eyes of someone previously immortal.

2: What scene did you first put down?

I think it was the original ending I wrote down first. I was supposed to write towards a particular scene, but somewhere along the way I’d decided to discard the idea entirely and opt for a happier resolution. I originally intended for the Outsider to die in the end, both to explore the feelings of those around him, as well as his own emotions accepting such a fate. I wanted a way to embrace death, as well as an output for all my bitterness regarding the subject; my anger at the ‘unfairness’ of it all, as well as my own trauma. I wanted to express loss, and in a way try and reveal the beauty of it. In the end, I had already found a way to deal with grief, and I also felt these characters deserved more; the fairness of fiction

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

That’s a REALLY difficult pick haha (does this mean literally a single line, or like a paragraph?). I’ll just share one of my favourite parts, because I can, and because it’s even more difficult to pick a single line from such a long story and I’m honestly horrible at making choices:

I heard the whispers of rats all around me, tiny feet scampering through the pipes; Billie’s gift tucked inside my shirt. My bare feet light, making little noise—as if I wasn’t really there. Perhaps I wasn’t. Perhaps I hadn’t been anywhere for centuries.

Up the stairs, cold stones. The walls decorated, grand and lavish. Empty corridors and lingering traces of hushed whispers—the guards had left their posts. She’d be there. How would that have made me feel? How should that make me feel? Almost, getting closer. My heart pounded in my ears, lungs greedily begging for more air, more—more. I felt like running. Strong currents of energy coursed through my veins, vibrated through bones and tendons. If I lost control, would I explode in a million pieces? Would the energy burst out and take my body apart, like the Void tearing into reality?

Who was I?

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

Honestly impossible to pick, I’ll just take this monologue:

“Anton Sokolov: sire to 14 children, but a father to none. A brilliant mind at a terrible cost, enlightenment in exchange for the dark depravity of the soul. Fingers that turn the times into a revolution of progress, the same fingers that touch upon women as they do the cold inventions they craft. Objects close to his heart—objects from his mind.

“The stench of alcohol in his bed, his clothes, his skin. Liquors and paints; on the canvas, dripping from his fingers, in the eyes of the beggar he found in the flooded slums of a place forsaken. The stench of rot still fresh on his teeth as he smiles at young Emily Kaldwin and tells her: ‘Don’t worry dear, here in the tower you are safe.’ Don’t worry dear, for I know the truest evil lies not within the high walls of Dunwall but within my hands and mind, within the flooded basement where a woman screamed and bled until she hung her head and closed eyes from which the dark paint still leaked—forever.

“The human body—like clockwork—taken apart in exchange for coin, for valuables. But those things Anton Sokolov values most lay outside of his intellectual grasp; for all the reasoning in the world he is but a cold, lonely man in search of a higher purpose that is but a lie of his own twisted imagination. A delusion of grandeur.

“How does it feel? One’s biggest regrets are but feelings of little consequence. The true disease is the sickness that allows one to enact true consequence on an innocent in the name of a self-prescribed fate. But I suppose that’s the curse of boredom. That, is the curse of your brilliance.”

5: What part was hardest to write?

The first chapter! There’s nothing more difficult than a set-up imo; establishing characters, pacing, setting and feel. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, but there was still so much I didn’t know that I had a hard time choosing how and where to start. I think it’s one of the most heavily edited chapters, just because I didn’t have a clear grasp on the characters or plot yet. (Also smut, oh lord help me)

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

There’s the original ending, and I did at one point start on a companion fic to explore Emily’s pov, but decided I better focus on finishing the original instead.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

The fact that it’s finished (hurrahhhh!!), and the themes and subjects.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

My own sense of humour, I always cringe reading my own jokes so I can only hope it hits with others—I genuinely have no idea, and it’s hard at times to figure out where to draw the line.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

WELL IM GLAD U ASKED!! I’ll try and keep this short, but these are some of the songs that carried this fic, not even exaggerating.

1. Lover Don’t Leave, Citizen Shade

2. Happy Life, Roland Faunte

3. Painting Roses, Dresses

4. ID, Charlie Allen

5. High Tops, Del Water Gap

6. Love Song for Lady Earth, Del Water Gap

7. Battle Cry, The Family Crest

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

EVERYTHING. I had literally no idea about writing, apparently. I’ve had no classes in literature, nor have I ever been taught the common rules when it comes to writing. I got to learn most of it thanks to my friends who helped edit (shoutout to @onewhoturns again), and through trial and error. I absolutely loved the experience of it, and I’m so grateful for all I’ve learned, and all I will continue to learn in the future. It’s given me the basis for my own original writing which I’m trying to pursue, and which I hope will someday become reality.

Thank you so much for these! I’ve thoroughly enjoyed answering every single one. ♥

Can you write a story where Amelia goes into labor and link is there and they start talking about there future together and maybe he spontaneously proposes or hints the possibility of him proposing soon and this all happens when she’s in labor😂

stubborn

“Link?” Amelia whispered, shaking her boyfriend.

“Link!” She asked louder shaking him more aggressively.

“What?” He asked shooting up from his laying down position. “Are you okay?”

“I’m having contractions, they’re 20 minutes apart, but I thought you should know.”

“What? Amelia, we have to go to the hospital. We have to get the bag? Oh god, we haven’t even finished the nursery. He’s early, he’s still got a couple weeks.” Link ranted uncharacteristically, jumping up from bed to throw on some sweatpants.

“Link, we don’t need to go to the hospital. We’ll go when they’re 5 minutes apart.”

“Amelia, it’s better if we go now.”

“They’ll just send us home. I shouldn’t of even woken you up. Come back to bed.” She patted the space next to her, trying to lure him back to bed.

“No, of course always wake me up.”

“Your assuming we’ll have more kids?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” A flustered Link responded quickly.

“How many?” Amelia asked before wincing, another contraction taking her by surprise. Link quickly grabbed her hand allowing her to squeeze it. Once the contraction had passed and Amelia had calmed Link answered.

“3, I don’t know. We’ll just see what happens. I think it’d be nice for our son to have a sibling, I was always lonely growing up. I only ever had myself to play with, a lot of imaginary friends.”

“How many imaginary friends?”

“Maybe around 5? They all had elaborate stories and personalities. I had a lot of time on my hands.” Link chuckled. “We should look into buying a house, don’t ya think? One with a big backyard, so we can play tag with him. I’ll teach him to throw a baseball, and how to hit one.”

“No,no,no, he is not playing baseball waaaaaay to dangerous. And definitely not football, or soccer, or hockey.” Link kissed her to stop her ranting.

“You just did that to shut me up.”

“Precisely.”

______________________________________

“Amelia your contractions are 10 minutes apart, we should get going.”

“No, Link not until they’re five minutes apart. You live like two minutes away from the hospital. You don’t need to worry about me having this baby in your car.”

“I just think it’s better if we go now. You never know, with labor. Maybe your farther in labor than we think.”

“Link, it’s very endearing your so nervous and worried, but your forgetting that I’m a doctor and have had a baby before.” Link sat down next to his girlfriend who was now leaning against the couch in their living room. He hated himself for forgetting about her firstborn.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Well, there is a very big baby trying to tunnel it’s way out of my body at the moment.”

“No, I mean about Christopher.”

“Oh.” Amelia hesitated for a moment. “Yeah I’m okay, I mean this is different from when I had him. This whole pregnancy I’ve been comparing and contrasting this one and my last pregnancy. This baby, is staying. I’m not going into this knowing my baby is going to die shortly after his birth. It makes me miss Christopher, but I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. I’m happy though.”

“Your not obligated to be happy.” Link rubbed her arm, when she winced in pain signaling another contraction.

“I know, I am actually happy about this baby. I just miss Christopher, I wish he could’ve met his little brother.”

“Your the strongest person I know.”

“Ugh.” Amelia slapped his upper arm. “I hate it when you say that.”

“But it’s true.” Link laughed, causing his girlfriend to laugh. “You know we should get married.”

“What?” Amelia asked looking behind her shoulder to see his face.

“Well actually no.”

“Oh.”

“Well, not no. But like yes, but no.”

“Huh?” Amelia asked before another contraction had her doubling over in pain. Link quickly looked down at his watch, while rubbing her back.

“Amelia, that’s five minute intervals now. Let’s get going.”

“No, not until you tell me what you meant.”

“Amelia, this is not the time or place for this conversation. We’ve got to get you to the hospital.”

“I’m not going until you tell me your intentions.”

“My intentions are to get you to the hospital in time, so this baby isn’t born in the car.”

“No, what did you mean by we should get married? Like now?”

“Well, not right this moment, because we have to get you to the hospital.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Of course I intend to marry you. This isn’t how I wanted to propose, though. I didn’t mean to blurt it out. Just disregard this whole conversation.”

“But, you want to get married?”

“We obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to. All that matters to me is you and our baby.”

“No, I want to. Of course I want to marry you.”

“Good.” Link smiled, admiring his girlfriend until he was pulled out of his bliss by another contraction. “Alrighty, you ready to go to the hospital now?”

“Ready.” Amelia nodded.

thank you so much for the prompt! i really enjoyed it, it’s a little rushed, and im not sure it’s exactly what you wanted so i can always redo it. hope everyone is doing well and staying safe!

I noticed in one of your posts that you talk about Arcturus and Sirius being similar. I admit I can see a few similarities in the flashback in the newest chapter, though Sirius definitely seems a lot less grouchy than young Arcturus was hahaha. Are there any specific ways they mirror each other you'd be willing to elaborate on?? Thank you, love from Texas :)

WARNING: MINOR SPOILERS FOR OZYMANDIAS (ALSO I WROTE AN ESSAY BECAUSE IM WEIRDLY PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS)

Yeahhhh, bb Archie definitely is far grouchier than bb Sirius lmao. Though bb Sirius did have a tendency to brood when he was stuck in his house as well lol.

Sirius is far more temperamental/impatient than Arcturus is. Sirius is more likely to blow up almost immediately when he's angry, whilst Arcturus kinda just quietly seethes for a while until he finally pops. But in terms of their history they are very similar, and def share a lot at their core.

First, they both have MASSIVE daddy issues—both of which are mainly due to their fathers neglecting them during childhood—though there's different sorts of neglect in both cases. Sirius's issues are more about him thinking Orion doesn't love/care about him because he rarely pays any mind to him, and when he does it's to reprimand/admonish his behavior. Arcturus's issues are based more in resentment towards his father for pretty much mentally checking out after his mother's death. Arcturus's dad was never cold/dismissive like Orion, he was a very kind, loving sort of father, but he was so drowned in his own self-pity that he fails to realize how his alcoholism and failure to step up in his position affects his children (especially his eldest.)

TLDR; Orion neglects/is dismissive of Sirius on purpose in an effort not be too soft with him (as well as just naturally being conflict-averse), while Sirius II's neglect of Arcturus and his other children is entirely unconscious and is a result of his own problems.

Because of his dad constantly dismissing him, Sirius becomes very self-conscious and tries to act out/spurns his family duties in an effort to get attention/over compensate for his dad's coldness. Arcturus does the same, though his overcompensation is because of his father's weakness/maudlin behavior, so he becomes colder and puts a lot of stress on himself at a young age (unnecessarily) out of a sense of duty to his family. Sirius purposefully acts out as both a way to get attention and out of a sense of duty to his friends (supporting muggle rights, the order, etc.). In essence, they both have a huge martyr complex—though they're rooted in entirely different things.

Furthermore, there's the uncle figures. Alphard and Phineas are very similar in a few ways but serve very different purposes in Sirius and Arcturus's lives.

Alphard is someone that Sirius finds common ground with in the family, they're both black sheep, both like muggles much more than appropriate, and both can sit back in the corner at a party and joke about the family being insane. Alphard serves as a bit of an example to Sirius that you can be a Black sheep and still be a Black (no pun intended) though ultimately Sirius elects to leave anyway.

Phineas serves a different purpose. He's someone who has already been burned off the tree, who is brazen in his support for muggles/disdain for blood-purity, etc. He serves as an example to Arcturus that there's more to life than just the family, that you don't need to drown yourself with responsibilities just yet, that maybe there are some things we need to keep an open mind on. He's someone who provides some much needed levity and stress-relief in Arcturus's life, and unlike Sirius, Arcturus actually starts to absorb some of that—until his uncle dies very young in a famous muggle disaster that was alluded to in the last chapter, and he reverts back to his ways.

This is where their paths diverge. When Alphard dies, yeah Sirius is torn up, but he's got a very strong support network in MWPP to fall back on, and counts on them for emotional support. Arcturus doesn't have ANY emotional support after Phineas dies. He has a father who prefers the bottle to actually taking some responsibility with his children, siblings too ignorant of the situation in the family to understand his issues, and an uncle who only fuels his coldness + abnormally intense sense of duty and devotion to family.

Arcturus, who is naturally independent, retreats into himself; whereas Sirius, naturally dependent, falls back on his friends to compensate for the loss of his family. When those friends die, Sirius naturally loses it as he's placed all his emotional eggs into the James/Lily basket, whereas Arcturus deals with his family dying around him like he deals with all his other problems—internalize it all, never show weakness, stay dignified for the sake of your family's image (even though they're all but extinct).

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

showtime

WARNING: eye gore!!, violence Disclaimer: this is..... an au where guy fieri isnt a cool and chill dude that just likes food. i am very sorry for what i do to him in this. i dont mean it and if the cops knock at my door i will blame it on hussie word count: about 3.7k. i am so sorry

context john gets kidnapped by his mom dave doesnt panic

Los Angeles, CA, Wednesday

“No matter what happens, nobody cancels the premiere,” you say. “Okay? No matter what’s in the news. No matter how bad it gets. The movie drops on Thursday, and people are gonna watch it. Got it? This is a scare tactic and we’re not falling for it. Even if the world is ending, we are premiering this movie and going through with the promo. With or without me.”

Catalena, your manager, has been with you for too long to think that you’re joking. She was who flew you in from Houston to LA back when you were twenty, who let you sleep on your couch until you made enough money to get an apartment, who thought that the message you had for the world was one worthy of her help. She knows that all of this is real, and that she can’t stop you.

Her face says, Dave, you’re scaring me. Her mouth says, “You got it. Could you at least tell me… what you think is going to be in the news that would make us not premiere it?”

“Something bad,” you say. “Hopefully, anyway.”

She tilts her head. “Are you faking your death?”

“Lalonde and I are gonna disappear for a sec,” you say. “How people interpret that is gonna be up to them.”

“Not like you to leave things up to chance,” Catalena says. “Some will think it’s elaborate PR.”

“That’s why I’m only telling you. Lalonde and I are gonna frame this to look serious, and no one else is gonna know what’s going on. You keep your cool, but don’t let anyone know that you’re in on it.”

“I mean, I barely am.” She gives you a Look, a capital L Look, then sighs and nods. “Fine. So if I hear about your presumed death tomorrow, I won’t freak out. At what point am I allowed to assume you are actually dead, and freak out a little bit?”

“If you don’t hear from me in a week,” you say, “then Lalonde and I have been killed by Betty Crocker.”

Houston, TX, twelve years ago

You’re blind.

That’s not true. You’re not blind. You don’t think you are going to be blind. There is no way that you’re fully blind, because the assassin only got your right eye, so it doesn’t make sense for you to be blind, but you’re blind.

The pain might originate from your right eye, but it’s engulfing your entire head by now, and there is something sticky in your left eye and you can’t open it anymore and it burns, and you’re going to go blind, and then you’re going to die in a ditch, in a pool of your own blood, and this is it. It’s over. You and your half sister fucked around on the internet a bunch, got really deep into some conspiracy theories, and barely two weeks after you made the discovery that Betty Crocker definitely, undoubtedly, literally is an actual alien, someone was sent to kill you.

They didn’t manage, so far. They got your eye, and they broke your glasses, leaving a cut on your nose, and a bunch of cuts everywhere else, and you think you cracked your head open when you fell. But you cut their knife hand off, good and clean off, watched it fall to the ground right in front of you. By the time it hit the pavement, the assassin had already turned around and ran away, leaving you to crumple and suffer here by yourself.

This is it.

“Strider?” Rose says. Before the blood trickling into your good eye ruined your vision, you managed to dial her number and call her up, and now you’re lying on your side with your phone pressed to your ear, imagining her in her college dorm room in New York. You were going to visit her there, years ago, after you ran away from your parents. It never worked out. Neither of you has the money. You really wish you could have seen her at least once.

“Yeah,” you croak. “You at home?”

“At the dorm, yes. What’s going on?”

“You gotta go. She sent someone after me, she’s gonna come for you too. If she knows that I know, she’ll know that you know.”

One of the most comfortable parts of friendship with Rose, you’ve found, is that she never asks you to clarify what the fuck you’re talking about. Either she just lets you ramble, or she knows exactly what you mean. “Shit,” she hisses, and you can hear rustling on her side of the line, hopefully from her getting ready. She probably has a getaway bag somewhere, you think. You have one, but not on you right now. It’s too late for that.

“They’ve already hit me, so whoever she sent to you can’t be far,” you say. You try to blink your eye open, but then it hurts the other more, and it burns. You can’t even tell where exactly. It just burns. “Hurry up, Lalonde.”

“They’ve hit you?” she echoes, still rustling, breathing into the phone. On the move. Good. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say. “Gonna call an ambulance after this. Just get the fuck out and text me later, yeah?”

Rose pauses. You can hear her pause, you can hear everything go very silent for a second. She says, “You called me before you called for help?”

“Yeah,” you say. She told you, once, that there is a quick and easy way out the window of her second-storey dorm room, that lets her balance over to her girlfriend’s room only a few windows ahead. She can’t hide there, it’s too close, but it’s a start. She’ll figure it out, she always will. She was the first person to ever have your back. “Of course I did.”

On a plane, Thursday morning

“What’s on your mind?” Rose asks.

You’re leaned back, staring out the window, listening to the clicking of her knitting needles next to you. The pilot here doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, just that he is flying two rich people and their car to Washington, DC. Your Mustang is in the cargo part of the plane, a vital part of the plan. You’ll torch it later. It was the first car you bought with your own money, after SBaHJ had become big and you had finally paid off your hospital debt.

Rose’s apartment isn’t that old, she got it after Roxy was born and she decided to move to Los Angeles, so you could help each other babysit. Trashing it still felt wrong. A home is a home, but you wanted it to look broken into, to make sure that people put two and two together. This isn’t a Dave Strider marketing scheme, you both got hit. After all the work that you’ve done, at least some of the public should understand what that means.

“Us,” you say.

“That’s very sentimental,” she says. “Are you sure you aren’t mourning your car again?”

“Shut up,” you say, and blindly swat at her, hitting her elbow. She hits you back, hand slapping your shoulder. “It’s a good car.”

Rose hums. When you look at her, she’s already back to knitting. You have no idea what she’s making, but it looks like a onesie for an octopus. “We will be fine,” she says. “We have to.”

You nod, and go back to staring out the window, thinking about what Alma said. “It’s just,” you say quietly. “We gotta start thinking about the endgame, here, don’t we.”

“Start?” Rose echoes. “Dave, we know the endgame to this. We’ve known for a while. The second you landed in the hospital with a cut inside your eyeball, you and I both knew that this would end in death.”

You don’t say anything. She’s right, of course she is. You knew then, and she knew, as soon as you texted her from your hospital bed, and she texted you back from a Greyhound bus. And you tried to forget, you both did, for a very long time. You almost managed, for a whole decade, until last year, someone made you scared and angry enough to ram a sword through his throat. Until Rose came and disassembled the body on your rooftop, and then helped you burn it. Reality has caught up with you, and someone is going to die.

The clicking of her needles has stopped again. You turn your head to look at her, and she’s looking back at you, and her face seems younger than it should be. She is just as scared as you are. Neither of you ever wanted it to go this far. Neither of you wanted to kill.

“I don’t like it either,” Rose says. “But someone is going to wind up dead, and it sure as shit isn’t gonna be us.”

Washington, DC, now

)(IC: u comin or what TG: yeah about that

You’re on the hood of your car. The children -- and Sally, John’s pet hedgehog -- are with the one sitter you still trust. Rose is in position, which means she is at a remote location outside the city holding Guy Fieri hostage. She has sent you a picture of him tied to a chair and gagged, which means that it’s go time.

All according to plan.

TG: how about you come kill me somewhere else instead of home sweet home )(IC: why would i do that TG: dying mans last request? )(IC: stfu lol this is so obviously a trap TG: wow ok so is yours )(IC: fair TG: just thought that you know TG: john means something to both of us and dont try to tell me no because i know he does TG: so like can we maybe duke it out somewhere where i wont accidentally blow him to smithereens TG: innuendo intended )(IC: UG)( )(IC: gross TG: lmao TG: anyway bethany you know me and you know im comin with c4 in my backpack if im comin TG: do you really want that around your son or can you just get off your ass and meet me here so john stays safe )(IC: u reely think ya have a fighting chance to even get that far )(IC: buoy you set one foot in my house and ya get spearfished TG: yeah not really making a great point for me to come there rn TG: just thought maybe youd wanna be with your guy guy )(IC: who TG: you know TG: guy the guy )(IC: tf

You text her the picture that Rose sent, just Guy Fieri looking miserable, no indication of whether or not you or Rose are with him.

)(IC: )(-EY )(IC: motherglubber what do u think yoar doin TG: yoar??? TG: thats literally not a word. wym you oar?? what TG: anyway im gonna dismember this asshole if you dont agree to keep john safe and come here and im gonna start with the frosted tips )(IC: FIN--E )(IC: cant effin wait to be done with you )(IC: ill come krill ya if its so shrimportant just gimme the location TG: ok shrimportant is actually pretty funny TG: [coordinates] TG: see you soon

She drives a fuchsia Jaguar that looks like Xzibit threw up all over it, because of course she does. You watch it leave from your perch on your Mustang, then slide off the hood. shes gone, you text Rose. get ready to bounce

Before you leave, you turn back toward you car, and gently pat the roof. “See you soon,” you repeat, “for one last ride.”

Look, it’s a good car, alright.

Later on in the plan, once you’ve convinced John to come with you, and Rose has joined you in the no doubt brutal course out of the house littered with security guards, the three of you will pack into this car, and you will drive. You will be tailed, you know you will. Rose and you estimate two to three SUVs with more security personnel that will follow you, and sooner or later, you won’t stand a chance against them.

So, you’ll call the cops. You don’t usually do this -- even during all these years, neither you nor Crocker ever called the police on each other, and technically, you still won’t, today. You will just anonymously call authorities, and tell them about a burning car by the side of the road. Then you will hang up, and you and Rose and John will hop out of a moving vehicle as you crash your beloved Mustang and have it go up in flames. Authorities will come and find Dave Strider’s infamous car, and hopefully that’ll get people talking.

Crocker’s guys will hopefully exit their cars and go looking for you, or at least for John. It’s an easy con from there -- while they look, you will steal their SUVs and drive off toward your safehouses. Simple. No sweat.

“This better work,” you mutter to yourself, then leave your car behind and start climbing the fence around Crocker manor.

You’ve been here once before, while she was out and John was showing you around. You weren’t actively trying to case the place back then, just spending time with your boyfriend and checking out where he grew up, but you couldn’t help how curious you were. You still remember the most important spots, and you did your best to paint a proper picture of them to Rose (you drew a map in MS Paint), so now you have a pretty good idea of where you need to go.

The guard posts, of course, are randomized. You’ll have to take these as they come, and you feel prepared enough, with just your sword and a handful of knives. You’re wearing the kevlar you wore to the Oscars. You’re gonna be fine.

It’s a race against time now, knowing that there is no guarantee when Crocker will be catching on and returning to her house, and knowing that you stand no chance actually fighting her face to face. You climbed in toward the side of the house, because it’s the shortest distance between fence and wall. The front and back yards are ridiculously huge and opulent, and while you would have plenty of gaudy statues to hide behind, you’re not looking to make your way through there.

The first guard spots you right as you hop down off the fence, and your knife is in his shoulder before he even finishes drawing his gun on you. He’s also wearing a vest, but those don’t stop blades, and you take offense in knowing that she made them dress up like that. As if either you or Rose were going to show up with guns. She really doesn’t know you at all. You knock out the guard with a hit of the knife grip against his temple. Maybe you can get through this without deaths.

One of them you comfortably take out from behind a useless fountain placed in this part of the garden for some reason, appreciating how quiet and low-key you can be about it so far. The bigger the ruckus, the sooner she’ll return, so having them all go down in silence is your best case scenario.

It’s the third guard that ruins your track record. You’re almost at the house wall, and you know you’re under the right window, which means all you have to do is scale it and climb right into John’s room, but for that to work you need to have a clean path behind you. Which you don’t, you realize the second a bullet hits your back.

Your vest catches it, but the momentum still knocks you down, and you scrape both of your palms open on the weird break between lawn and pavement. You hate this fucking garden. Who lives like this? You’re gasping for breath and trying not to inhale any grass, dealing with the reality that this is the first time someone has shot at you and actually hit you, and the bullet might not have penetrated skin at all, but Jesus Fucking Christ it still feels awful. Like someone kicked you in the spine, only with a bullet instead of a foot.

Onward. You hear footsteps behind you, and now it’s your turn to kick, hitting them in the face with your boot in the same motion that you’re pushing yourself up from the ground. As they curse and stumble, you draw your sword, but they catch their footing quickly, and you know you only have a split second to act. That gun is pointing at you, again, or still, and they’re going for your head this time, and if you don’t fight now, the journey ends for you here. Someone is going to die, and it sure as shit can’t be you. Your arm darts forward.

The sword goes through their vest, their ribs, and their heart -- you wouldn’t call it smoothly, you really wouldn’t. You can feel resistance with every inch, you feel it right up to your shoulder, and you hate it, and it makes you want to throw up, but you can’t, now. You shove them off your blade and watch them crumple to the ground, and turn right back toward the wall. They are not getting up again. That’s on you, and you can deal with that later. You have to get moving.

Your phone vibrates.

You manage to pull yourself up on a balcony and crouch there, hiding from whatever is going on in the yard now. Other guards must have heard the shot being fired, so you really need to get the fuck out of sight, but this has to do, for now. If Crocker is messaging you, you have to respond, so she doesn’t think you’re in her goddamn garden.

)(IC: yo )(IC: send me proof yoar still with him )(IC: almost there this betta be worth it TG: one sec

As expected. All according to plan, so far. You hope the blood on your sword won’t make the sheath sticky. You’ll have to clean it, later. You don’t want to.

TG: shes asking for proof TG: go ahead. sorry TT: No worries. TT: I know we don’t endorse violence, but honestly, Dawon, after being in a room with him for this long, I am quite happy to do this.

She sends you a picture, and you grimace at your phone. It takes a lot to make you grimace, as a Strider born and raised -- at the same time, you’re not easily shocked or grossed out, but this isn’t great to look at. Fieri’s eye has been pulled from its socket, dangling down his cheek suspended from the nerve, a hole in the eyeball. You hope Crocker won’t be able to tell that this was done with a knitting needle, and forward the photo to her.

TG: hows this )(IC: )(--EY FUCK OFF )(IC: stop i reely like guy 38( TG: yeah well i really like john TG: eye for an eye TG: hurry it up im waiting and theres a second eye to gauge out )(IC: ten minutes )(IC: ur gonna be so sorry buoy

TG: 10 mins TT: On my way.

Okay. Crocker is on her way to a location where there will only be Guy Fieri and a set of elaborate boobytraps which you know won’t kill her, but hopefully slow her down. Rose is on her way here, to help you and John get out of here. That’s plenty of time you still have. Things are going suspiciously well, you think, before you remember the ache in your back and the fact that you killed someone.

You have to get to John.

He’s another two floors up, but you are right in front of a balcony door. For a second, you wonder if you could get into the house from here and do the rest from inside, so you don’t present yourself to the mob of people with guns in the garden. Unfortunately, before you can do that, another person with a gun appears on the other side of that door, mouths an angry what the fuck at you, and draws an assault rifle. Alright, well.

The thing that has mostly kept you from becoming too violent in the past is the fact that you’re fast, and you’re a great climber, so when you hop backward onto the banister of the balcony and pull yourself up to the next one above you, it happens so fast that nobody in the garden reacts. It’s after you’re already crouching behind the balcony, thankfully made of robust concrete, that the shots start hitting it. You do nothing, count the bullets, wait for them to get rid of half of their magazines down there. Then you pull a knife, peek over the balcony, and throw it right into someone’s bicep.

More shots. More ducking and counting. You have two more knives to throw, and you do, rinse and repeat. The people down there are very angry with you now, and very much still able to shoot, but you figure at least their aim will be off, and they’ll be slower. You hope. You haven’t held a gun yourself in fucking forever.

You take a breath, and jump up to grab the balcony you know belongs to John.

As soon as you’re in the open, another bullet hits your back, further toward your side this time, and you almost let go. You let out an undignified noise instead, and hold on harder, focusing all you have into your arms to pull yourself up. Shots are ringing in your ears, and one hits the concrete right next to your head at almost the same time that another one grazes your leg. You hiss in pain, grunt in exertion, pull, pull, and roll yourself onto John’s balcony.

Someone in the garden yells, “Motherfucker!”

You sit, curled up, and pull apart the tear in your pants with your aching fingers to check the wound. It’s not deep, certainly not as bad as the chunk of missing flesh you have in your arm from being shot at last year. It’s fine. You’ll forget about it in a second, when your newest problem will be telling your amnesiac boyfriend that he needs to come with you.

You pull yourself up into a crouch, not more. You don’t want to risk getting shot in the head as you finally face him, so you just do it like this. Hunkered down, disheveled and bloody, you lean forward and knock on John’s window.

Bound

Read my whumptober collection on Ao3

Wild West AU!

~~~~~

The world spins as the ground smashes into Lance’s face. The impact worsens his headache and hurts like a headbutt from Ol’ Kaltenecker, but he can hardly find the strength to really register the pain. 

No sooner as he finally manages to place a palm on the prairie ground to lift himself up, he’s dragged to his knees by his assailants. The jerking motion sends fresh, sharp wave of pain through the top of his head and he has to shut his eyes to not throw up at the swirly sights in front of him. 

“What’do we do boss? Shoot him? Hang him?” Levidy squeals in delight. “Maybe… maybe we can scalp ‘im?”

Lance groans. An idiot Levidy might be but he’s under no false pretenses that he would shoot Lance without hesitation if ordered. Not that Lance is any less of an idiot, riding out to check on a cattle rustling tip alone. 

Catch up on the paperwork, Pidge, then I don’t have to do it, Lance mocks himself. I’ll bring you back a nice steak for lunch no problem!

Even in his dazed state, he hears the train whistle. His heart sinks, even if they let him live, he won’t make it to the station on time to collect the package he ordered for Pidge. 

“I think our dear sheriff deserves to go out with a bit more pomp and circumstance, Levidy,” says the leader of the gang. Too smart for his own good, Steelman always seems to be two steps ahead of the law. If he’d just let Pidge come with instead of trying to keep her out of his elaborate surprise...

“Bind him,” Steelman orders. “And make it tight,” he continues almost cheerfully, “he’s proven to be slippery when he wants.”

Lance glares, willing Steelman - blurry as he is to Lance - to drop dead where he stands. Growling, he rises from knee to foot, working for leverage.

Steelman clicks the safety off his custom revolver and points it at Lance. “Let Levidy do his job, Sheriff. We’ll let you do yours in time.”

“I will see you get justice,” Lance vows, though he slumps to his knees, wrists already burning as he tugs at the rope snug to his skin. “You won’t get away with this. Everyone knows the train is coming for this herd, and the time.” He can’t help a smug grin. “You’ll be tracked down before you can take one steer.”

But Steelman’s cruel smile just grows wider and more menacing. “That’s where you’ve provided a surprising boon for us.” The rope winds around his chest, keeping his strained arms uncomfortably close to his body. “You see, trains stop automatically if there is an accident. And you, dear Sheriff, will provide us with that accident.” 

The rope tugs in exclamation before Levidy ties it off. It doesn’t hurt, but Lance’s chest constricts at the knowledge of what is to become of him. 

Levidy hauls him roughly to his feet and Lance refuses to move, he can at least stall for time in the slim chance someone else is out here. “I’m not going to help you with your insane plan.”

Steelman clicks his tongue in disappointment. “I’d hate to blow your brains out right here, it’d be a pity to sully the wildflowers.” He gestures forward with his gun. “Move.”

Lance stumbles forward, pushed from behind. 

He hates being out of control of the situation. The only one he’d ever trust to tie him up like this is back at the office doing paperwork because he was too lazy to bring her along and do it himself when he got back. 

Levidy drags him up the grassy hill by the collar of his shirt. Lance barely keeps up, unable to tell what is up or down, his boots and pants scraping on the dirt, throat tight every time he’s pulled. 

Finally, he’s allowed to lay on the ground. But this ground isn’t hard like the soil, its distinctly iron. 

Rail iron. 

“Nice and easy, Levidy, make the good sheriff comfortable.” 

Lance tries to focus, blinking rapidly until his head settles. The railroad track goes on as far as he can see - in the distance already he can see the steam from the engine of the Continental Express. 

And he lies in its direct path, neck literally on the chopping block when the wheels come rolling through. 

He should move, and he tries, but his legs are stuck. Levidy hovers over them with rope - tying him to the track then. 

Quiznak, he’s really going to die here. 

“Pidge is going to kill you,” he spits - at the very least he has his pride. “I guarantee you that.”

Steelman walks over the tracks and kneels, pistol still in one hand. The madman cups the other under Lance chin, and pushes back punishingly. Lance chokes, his neck strained so far that he can almost see behind him. His captor holds him there, looking him over as if examining golden specks on a rock. 

“I think I will miss you, Sheriff,” he says regretfully, though Lance knows its fake. “But do not worry about your little deputy. Her brains will be put to good use once I have her, and if not, there are other ways to put her to use.”

Lance inhales sharply. “Don’t you touch her,” he seethes.

Steelman lightly pats his cheek, as if comforting a small child. “I will take good care of her,” he says cruelly, “I promise.”

“You worthless piece of s-mmmhhmmmm!” Lance yells angrily, as loud and as obnoxiously as he can even after the gag is tied at the back of his head. 

“Sweet dreams, Sheriff.” Steelman stands and tips his hat in mock respect. “I’ll toast to you later tonight as I take the train and your deputy to San Francisco.”

Then he leaves, out of sight far too quickly for Lance’s liking. 

Lance screams, squirms, twists, every type of movement he can think of to escape, but even as he loosens the rope slightly it holds fast, exhausting him and cutting into his skin. 

The train whistle is closer, he can see the line of freight cars rumbling over the hill. Lance struggles harder. 

Lance has regrets. Though he’ll die on the job - just the thought of being decapitated this way chews at his insides, not that he’ll be around to feel it much longer - he can’t help but think that he always expected to go out guns blazing like Shiro had, regardless of Pidge’s conspiracy theory that he was still alive.

He regrets not marrying Pidge years ago. Waiting until they could pass the badge on to someone else seems like foolishness when he reflects on it. She won’t even get the postmortem cash from the government - at least she knows where his life savings are kept, she can use that to pick up the search for her brother again.

She’s going to receive the package addressed to him, ring intended for her, after he’s died. Because if he’s sure of one thing, Pidge will be able to outwit Steelman.

The ground rattles and him with it. 

The shrieking sound of the train breaking fills the air. It’s stopping, Lance realizes a flicker of hope. But it’s far too late. Even if the Conductor has seen him and applied the breaks he’s still going to die. 

Lance breathes heavy and rapidly, because soon he won’t have a head to do so at all. He cries in fear because no one will see him, there is no one to hide from. 

The train whistle gets louder. Lance can smell the burnt coals and feels the crackle of electricity from the wheels against the rails. The breaking becomes nearly unbearable in his ears, more shrill than barkeeper Coran singing in the saloon. 

The sky goes dark. A wheel brushes up against his neck.

And stops. 

No more squeal of the breaks, only the cooling down of the engine. 

He isn’t dead. In a rare moment, Lance can’t find his own voice as he stares directly up at the front of the engine. If the train had failed to stop any sooner than it did…

“Lance!”

Against all odds, his deputy and the love of his life jumps out of the engine, her signature green boots pounding on the ground. 

Never in his life has he been more overjoyed to see her.

Pidge kneels before him with horrified eyes behind her empty frames, ripping off his gag.

Lance gasps. “How did… you were at the office…”

She flops on top of him, which Lance immediately decides isn’t fair as he can’t exactly hug her back. “Like I was going to stay behind and do paperwork while you investigated something that smelled like Steelman and his flunkies,” she tells him with a choked voice. 

“But.. how did you know I’d be…”

Pidge sniffs. “Because he’s a showman. There’s no way he’d pass up something like this when he sees it in the movies. Quiznak, Lance,” she sobs into the rope around his chest. “I thought I was going to lose you.” 

Lance laughs, though he feels no humor in it. “I guess I can’t die, not as long as you’re my sidekick.”

Though she still cries, Lance catches the briefest of smiles and a distinct laugh among the tears. “We’ve talked about this, I’m not your sidekick, goofball.”

No more waiting. Not after this far too close for comfort incident. “What about my wife?”

A moment of silence before Pidge raises her head, an incredulous look on her tear stained face. “I just spent the last few hours in fear for you life, you nearly died, and you’re proposing now?”

Lance smiles, pleased to get a rise out of her - the thrill of catching his normally ‘prepared for anything’ deputy off guard. “I can’t think of a better time,” he says, pouring all sincerity into his voice. 

Pidge huffs in frustration, but yet she smiles. “How can I say anything but yes if you put it like that?”

He shifts uncomfortably, the soreness of being tied up finally getting to him. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day… but can you untie me before we kiss?”

Lance knows he’s screwed when Pidge gets a defiant gleam in her eye. “You don’t need your arms and legs to kiss me.”

Well, Lance thinks as she leans down and meets his lips with her own, at least the kiss is worth it. 

HCs for Gryffindor!Ashton who has been crushing on Slytherin!Reader for the longest time, but she doesn’t really give him the time of day because she’s also been crushing on Gryffindor!Ash

GRYFFINDOR ASH X SLYTHERIN READER

-so he thought you were cute as fuck since first year when all of you were waiting to get sorted into houses

-your name was called and you went up there and before the hat even touched your head it announced “Slytherin!” and Ashton could feel his heart sinking

-there goes that crush

-but the thing is… even after Ash was sorted into Gryffindor, the crush never really went away.

-he’d see you around the school but your Slytherin clique mostly keeps to themselves so he doesn’t really talk to you

-he knows you come to the Quidditch games and he always makes sure he plays his best when he sees you in the crowd

-but you two never really talk or interact because you’re both kinda worried about the whole slytherinxgryffindor thing and both of you try to hide your infatuations

-then, in your fifth year, Slughorn assigns you and Ashton as lab partners in potions class

-its like the stars have aligned

- (in reality the teachers have totally shipped you and Ashton together for years but never done anything about it but Slughorn finally snapped and was like ‘fuck it, i’ll be cupid because none of you have the balls to be’)

-so you and Ashton have met in person once or twice and when he sits next to you and flashes that beautiful grin you can’t help but smile back, forgetting about the house rivalry for just a moment

-”this should be fun.” he muses. “just try not to light me on fire Irwin.” you laugh. “no promises.”

-and thus begins the partnership

-”so Slughorn’s got you sitting next to Y/N.” Gryffindor!Luke grins, “how’s that going?”

-yeah, Ashton’s close friends know Ash is into you and it’s been a lasting joke that he won’t be a true Gryffindor until he mans up and talks to you

-even Hufflepuff!Cal and Hufflepuff!Michael are in on the teasing but Luke’s the only one who ever takes it really that far

-and now Ashton has no excuse not to put himself out there

-but there’s still the fact that your houses usually hate each other

-sure, some students from your houses have dated in the past but the house rivalry always makes it really difficult for that to even happen

-meanwhile some of the Slytherins your friends with are kinda like “can’t believe you got sat next to Ashton.” “he seems like such a hothead Gryffindor.” “i bet you he’s totally going to light you on fire before the terms over.” “yeah i had his friend, that Hemmings kid, you know, the tall one, as my potions partner two years ago and he spend more time carving things into the desk than actually making potions.”

-you can’t really tell them that you’re excited because they all have it out for the Gryffindor team captain and Beater

-he is the ultimate Gryffindor and your friends hate it

-he literally embodies everything Gryffindor

-but thats kind of why you like him?

-like he seems like a hothead, and yes, he seems overly confident but thats sexy as fuck?

-he just seems… warm. and your cold blooded Slytherin self needs some warmth

-and those warm honey curls and strong beater arms are just to die for

-and its just like ‘you know what, fuck this. im a fucking Slytherin. we break rules. fuck my house mates, Ashton is hot as fuck and i’m going to go for it.’

-meanwhile he’s like ‘i’m a fucking Gryffindor. i’m going to make this happen because this is too good an opportunity to waste.’

-if there’s one thing your houses share, its ambition

-but you both chicken out the first few classes together, opting to just enjoy getting to know each other and ignore the weird looks from your house mates

-one day, you get to class and Ashton is already there, looking at his book and dicking around with some of the ingredients and your heart just stops in your chest because he looks so good

-and when he looks up and notices you walking over he smiles and of course, he looks soooooo gooood

-”there’s my favourite Slytherin.” he teases. you laugh, “don’t you mean: there’s my favourite Slytherin because she’s the only one i talk to because house pride and house rivalry?”

-he shrugs, “not my fault our houses don’t get along as well as we do.”

-”do we? get along?” you ask, turning to look at him.

-he’s fidgeting with one of the ingredients and you put your hand over his to stop him from rolling it around on the table because that shit is annoying AF

-his eyes go to your hand then up to your eyes, “i think so.” he says, then he squares his shoulders and you can see that true Gryffindor power as he says: “yeah. we do.”

-Mcgonagall is in the potions room asking Slughorn about something but he shushes her, “look.” he says, motioning to where you and Ashton are sitting, your hand still on top of his, “my plan is going swimmingly, don’t you think?” Mcgonagall has to stop herself from laughing because of course if any teacher was going to get this to work it would be Slughorn. Plus, Mcgonagall likes you. does she think you’re the best match for her Gryffindor golden boy? no… but she can always pimp out Luke to someone suitable. plus, Ashton looks so happy

-Ashton is looking at you and he sighs, running a hand through those curls you’ve come to enjoy so much, “look, i know out houses hate each other but that doesn’t have to affect us. I like you, I’m pretty sure you like me. i wish we could just put the rivalry aside and go out sometime.”

-”are you asking me out Irwin?” you grin, for once, thanking that courageous Gryffindor trait that forces red wearing students to put themselves out there and shoot their shoot

-”yup.” he sighs, “so what do you think?”

-”i think it could work.” you smile

-Slughorn begins giving instructions and you pull your hand away from Ashton’s

-the two of you sit next to each other, smiling the rest of class

-class ends and Ashton is just like, “so should i come pick you up from your common room after dinner?”

-you’re about to say yes when you realize “if my house sees you coming to get me, they are going to freak out. how about we meet at the entrance to the astronomy tower just after dinner, around seven?”

-”it’s a date.” he grins

-the day continues and you keep your mouth shut about the whole thing

-while Ashton is doing everything but having a full on rager with his mates because you said yes

-Cal and Michael are super supportive and Luke is flipping his shit, “when you said you were going to ask her out, i thought to myself: ‘he’s never going to make it.’ but you did! you’re all grown up and a Gryffindor mate!”

-you can tell Ashton has told his friends because at dinner Luke is staring at you a lot. Ashton’s back is to you but he looks over his shoulder at you every once and a while and Luke just grins

-the fact that he’s told his friends says something

-it’s like… you’re a Slytherin but his friends are happy for him which must mean something.

-and meanwhile you haven’t told anyone because your house can be kind of elitist. and it’s tough. to not share your excitement. because you are excited.

-dinner ends and you head back to your common room, counting down the minutes until you can sneak away to go see your Lion

-it’s finally five to seven and you leave, walking to the entry way to the astronomy tower. Ashton is already sitting on the steps but he stands when you approach, “i was worried you weren’t going to show.” he says, pulling you into a hug.

-”i’m a Slytherin, Ash, if i want something, i go out and get it.”

-before he can prompt you to elaborate on exactly what you want and what you intend to get, you grab his hand and begin pulling him up the steps.

-the tower has a lot of really beautiful stained glass windows with sort of seating areas. and no one comes up the tower after classes. you go as far up as you deem necessary that no one will be able to hear you from the base of the tower.

-you sit down and Ashton sits across from you

-you begin talking about anything and everything

-what made him become a beater?

-why did you choose Slytherin?

-why did he choose Gryffindor?

-the houses are pretty similar eh?

-why did the rivalry even really start?

-fuck, what will your Slytherin friends think?

-”depends on what this is.” “what do you mean?” “well… do you want to date and try for a relationship? or are you taking a page out of Hemmings’ book and looking for a good shag?”

-he laughs at your forwardness, “not the second one. besides, Luke makes it clear that he’s not looking for anything serious so if he has a reputation, it’s built on the testimonies of girls who understood what they were getting themselves into… what are you looking for from me? am i just a good shag?”

-”pretty sure you’d be a great shag.” you grin as he gets closer to you. “really?” he hums. “yeah.” his lips are almost on yours but you pull away, “but i’m not looking for just a shag either.”

-Ashton pulls back and sits next to you, hand going to your thigh, “okay, i admit, kinky public sex in the astronomy tower on a first date is a bit ambitious.”

-part of you knows this boy is baiting you. because you’re the ambitious Slytherin. but part of you doesn’t care at all.

-because kinky public sex with a Gryffindor in the astronomy tower? yes please.

-before you know what you’re even doing you find yourself straddling him, “ambitious is my middle name.”

-his hands on your ass as you run your fingers through his beautiful hair and look down at him with a grin

-you tease him. you know he wants to kiss you but you can move just out of his reach due to your power position

-and you know it’s driving him wild

-you grind down against him and his grip on your bum and waist tightens

-he finally snaps and one hand comes up and goes behind your head, pulling your face down to his so your lips can finally meet

-you grind down into the kiss, hands wandering his chest, shoulders and big beater arms

-his tongue glides against your lips and when you grind down harder you’re both groaning messes

-you begin to nip at his throat and ear which you can tell are particularly sensitive spots because he moans loudly, “fuck, you’re naughty aren’t you?”

-that line just gets you going because it totally plays into the whole house dynamic

-he pulls off your shirt and you pull off his as his hands explore you

-and thats how you end up fucking a Gryffindor in the astronomy tower where practically anyone could walk in.

-plus like. it’s already kinky so going that one step further by him calling you ‘a naughty girl’ and you calling him ‘sir’ or ‘daddy’ just drives you both wild

-spanking, choking. the whole 9 yards fam

-its exhilarating because you both know how fucked you would both be if anyone saw you two, but you’re too into each other to care

-you both finish, breathing heavily

-then he helps you grab your clothes and put them back on which makes you both laugh at how difficult it is to clothe another person

-”that was-” “insane.” you finish for him, laughing.

-and the thing is, you’re both hooked now.

-like. as if you’re going to go through the rest of your lives without doing that again because holy fuck

-he leans back against the wall and you lean back against him, back to his chest as his arms wrap around you

-you can feel his warmth and your little snake heart just eats it up

-”can you believe i’ve liked you since first year?” he asks

-”what?! no fucking way! me too!” you scream, turning to look at him over your shoulder

-”thank god for potions class.” he grins

-okay so neither of you wants to make it obvious you’re dating because of the back lash

-but he does not have much patience and you’re both super horny

-so lots of sneaking around

-and this Gryffindor is down to do it in such odd places

-”what if someone needs a broom?” you ask as he pulls you into a broom closet

-he rolls his eyes, “live a little.”

-”all i’m saying is this is a public bathroom, Ash.”

-”its the prefects bathroom, no one comes up here, i promise.”

-yeah, he is way more brave than you are when it comes to places to fuck

-but he is the Gryffindor so that makes sense

-you wish you had a bit of his bravery so you can finally go public about the relationship

-its so hard to go to his Quidditch games and watch him be hot as fuck and not be obvious about the fact that you’re tapping that

-sneaking into the Gryffindor Quidditch change room as soon as you’re sure everyone is gone

-so you two are fucking day and night and you are shook no one has stumbled across the two of you yet

-then one day you’re walking through the hall and he pulls you into a broom closet

-it’s hot and heavy and quick but holy fuck does this guy know how to make the most out of the time available

-you fix your clothes and leave the dark closet, running to your next class

-when you sit down next to one of your Slytherin friends, she’s looking at you with a weird look, “what?” you ask.

-”you have a hickie.”

-no. fucking. way.

-”i uh…” you calculate your ability to lie and realize there’s no use, “yeah i guess i do.” you sigh

-”who’s it from?” she asks, “which lucky Slytherin guy did you finally deem okay enough?”

-”um… he’s not a Slytherin.”

-”holy shit Y/N, you fucked a Ravenclaw?… Jesus, not a puff. please tell me it wasn’t some poor Hufflepuff boy… well, if it wasn’t a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff-” realization hits her and she lets out a squeal that can be heart through the whole class, she lowers her voice, “a Gryffindor?”

-”look, I like the guy okay?” you sigh

-”please tell me it isnt Luke Hemmings. please.” she says, gripping your arm, “anyone but him.”

-”no, not Luke… Ashton.”

-silence. her jaw drops. “no. fucking. way.”

-”he’s nice okay.” you sigh, putting your face in your hands, “look. i wanted him so i went and got him, that’s a Slytherin thing. we don’t back down when we want something.”

-”did he slip you a love potion? do i need to tell Slughorn-” your friend says, grabbing your face and looking at you.

-”no. i’m fine. really.”

-she sighs, “okay.”

-”okay?” you ask in shock.

-”yeah. i mean, i don’t like that he’s a Gryffindor but he seems, and i can’t believe i am saying this, but he seems like an okay guy.”

-going to your next class which is potions and when Ash sees you, he grimaces, beginning to fuss with your shirt, “shit, sorry, i marked you up a little-”

-”i told one of my friends we’re together.”

-he stops fussing, eyes widening, “and?”

-”and she’s okay with it.”

-”does this mean we don’t have to sneak around anymore?”

-”no more sneaking.”

-”thank fuck.”

-he grabs your face and full on kisses you in front of the entire class

-Slughorn enters the room and the two of you pull away while Ashton grabs his scarf from his bag and wraps it around your neck to cover the mark

-his arm goes behind you chair

-and it’s just like the most natural thing in the world

-the two of you leave class together hand in hand

-everyone is talking about it

-he walks you to class like such a fucking Gryffindor and kisses you again before winking and going to his own

-going to sit with your Slytherin friends and they all just stare at you and the red scarf around your neck but none of them say anything about it and class goes on as normal

-at dinner Ashton sits next to you at the Slytherin table and everyone stares at him, including you, “Ash, what are you doing?”

-he puts his arm around you, “testing the waters babe.”

-you can tell some of your housemates want to say something about him sitting there but none of them do. and those who stare too long get a harsh look from you and your best friend

-dinner ends and the two of you leave the great hall and you’re just like “Ashton what the fuck.” and he’s like “it could have been worse.”

-true

-”besides, they have to get used to seeing me around.” he says, hands settling on your waist

-you melt in his arms because you’re so in love with this boy and his warmth already

-but also what a fucking classic Gryffindor move. a lion walking into a snake pit. like what the fuck.

-you go back with him to his common room and you’re awkward at first before you realize that his Hufflepuff friends are there too and unlike Slytherin, the Gryffindor common room has a bunch of people from multiple houses hanging out

-they welcome you warmly and it’s just like holy shit i can’t believe this is just a thing for them

-Hufflepuff Mike and Cal are super nice to you as they chat with you and Ashton. “he’s had a thing for you since first year.” Michael grins. “yeah i heard about that.” you laugh

-”i heard it’s some big teacher conspiracy.” Cal says, flipping through a text book absentmindedly, “Slughorn sat you two together on purpose.”

-”that can’t be true, where did you hear that Cal?” Ashton laughs

-”teacher like to talk to me.” Calum shrugs.

-and it’s like… Calum is known for being an absolute Sweetheart and people do like to tell him all their darkest secrets so…

-your house doesn’t try to be accepting of him but they do tolerate it

-but you find yourself sitting at his table more often than not

-and if Gryffindor beats Slytherin at a Quidditch match you have to keep Ashton away from your house table at meals otherwise people will try to fight him

-he is pretty arrogant sometimes but it’s hot as fuck

-he calms down for you though, doesn’t rub it in your houses face so much when Gryffindor wins

-he even begins to say good game to the other team captain and mean it

-wearing his scarf to games and you look like a traitorous Christmas tree because you’re in your green robes and a red scarf and your entire house gets kinda bitchy about the fact that you’re cheering for your boyfriend and not your house

-you and Ashton fighting over who made the relationship happen

-”well i asked you out.” “yeah but i’m the one who got on top of you and-” getting cut off with a kiss

-still sneaking around for hot quickies wherever you can

-being caught my Michael a few times because “Hufflepuffs are good finders but fuck i did not need to see that!”

-you and Ashton don’t always agree on everything but you respect each other

-yeah, this relationship would include a lot of respect for individuality

-respecting that you’re different but that’s okay

-Slughorn stopping you one day as you’re leaving Potions and he’s just like “so you and that Irwin boy? i see my seating assignments were particularly beneficial this year.” and you know by that mischievous glint in his eyes that he totally did set you and Ashton up on purpose

-sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room some nights when you stay longer than you’re supposed to

-yeah, you two are open about your relationship but there’s still a lot of sneaking but that’s kinda hot fam

-you two are also a definite power couple because you are so fiercely loyal and protective of each other

-you both have the resting bitch face down and will stare down anyone being an asshole.

-this is just an interesting dynamic.

-it would be so kinky fam

-Gryffindor Ash is the love of my life what have you done.

-okay. welp. this has been a ride.

fukc,,,, talking about lucretia reminded me of how much i love her afionavaw. you said that you have thoughts about the order of the seven birds forgiving her? you don't have to elaborate it rn but what order do you think it it? i think magnus or merle would be one of the first ones to forgive her, then lup and barry, and davenport and taako would be the later ones. also sorry im bombarding you with questions alfwbgkh

@marblesaremyfavoriterock asked: I’m loving this discussion u and anon are having abt Lucretia and forgiveness!! In the post abt Lup u said you’ve put a bunch of thought into how each of the birds come to forgive Lucretia and how long that takes and I’d love to hear ur thoughts on that stuff if you want to talk abt it!!!

(disclaimer: i am speaking for myself and only myself and i get that not everyone might agree with what i think, and obvi that’s fine, but i’m not here to start fights/angry discussions)

my entire blog is actually just a secret campaign to get everyone to love lucretia adventurezone

but!!! about the other birds!!!!! i have put so much thought into this so first let me just put everything in the order of which i think forgiveness happens

merle/lup (during s&s)

magnus (during s&s)/davenport (shortly after s&s)

barry (a while after s&s)

taako (a while after s&s)

and now, my explanations:

merle: from the get-go of s&s, we see that merle never treats lucretia with animosity. while taako and magnus are pointing their weapons at her, merle is constantly asking what they’re doing and trying to get them to put their weapons down. also, canonically, i think it’s safe to say that merle doesn’t hold much of a grudge. he appears to like kravitz, even though kravitz almost killed him and had probably some hand (pun intended) in merle’s loss of faith for a little bit. he also greeted john warmly and kindly, even though their last interaction involved merle telling john to “kiss my ass, you sanctimonious bastard.” also, though, maybe it’s just me, but i saw merle and lucretia as two very good friends. in stolen century, he constantly encouraged her and was the one to tell her that she should consider taking on a more leaderlike role. in the bureau, he admired the faith she had in herself. so, i think he would forgive lucretia first because, honestly? that’s just how merle is. not only does he admire lucretia and see her as a good friend, but it’s just in his nature. also, important to note, merle obviously loves his kids, and without lucretia, he wouldn’t have his kids. so, w/ the prior friendship he had with lucretia/madame director, his personality, and what he got after the voidfishing, i think he was always in a state of forgiving lucretia.

lup: see this post

magnus: magnus is actually interesting in my opinion because, if it wasn’t for the fact that he found happiness in raven’s roost, i think he would be a lot less inclined to forgive lucretia. during stolen century, magnus learned how to ask for help and really became “the protector” during those one hundred years. he gained a family, and a dear pet, that he swore he would protect. however, this was lost after the voidfishing. he still wanted to protect but he didn’t exactly know who, or what. factor in the fact that he was the first one to start distrusting the director, plus the fact that he was getting very close with the voidfish, who didn’t seem to know how to answer any of his questions about the director, and all of that would add up to a rocky forgiveness of lucretia. except, now we have to consider two things. one being the fact that travis said it’s canon that magnus saw how hard of a decision lucretia had to make and, because of that, magnus doesn’t hold a lot of malice against her. the second thing that i think we need to consider is raven’s roost. after stolen century, i think we can say that magnus got the “happiest voidfishing,” in a way. he had raven’s roost, a stable job. he lead a city through a revolution that they all believed to be a success. he found the love of his life. it is canon that those years in raven’s roost were some of the happiest years magnus has ever experienced. if magnus didn’t have raven’s roost, didn’t at one point have julia, i think it would’ve been a lot harder for him to forgive her, bc what would he have had? he would’ve lost his friends, and who’s to say what life he would’ve made outside of raven’s roost. but, because lucretia was technically responsible for him going to raven’s roost and eventually finding julia (and stephen), i think that also factors into his forgiveness of her (plus the canonical stuff travis said, which i am 100% here for).

davenport: i firmly think that davenport forgives lucretia fairly quickly after s&s. now, you might be saying, “jordyn, what the actual fuck,” and don’t worry, i said the same thing to myself. but play with me in this space, give me a chance. i would put lucretia at lawful good, or at least in the “good” category between lawful/neutral. davenport, i think, falls kinda more around true lawful/true neutral. and this, i think, would factor into his forgiveness of lucretia. in stolen century, i think we saw early on that davenport is a very “means to the end” type of guy. he was the one who suggested destroying the crystal on the robot planet. he suggested blowing up the sacred mountain of the conservatory. by cycle 66, he was angry and tired. in cycle, what, 92? when they voted on the relics? davenport didn’t actually vote! he never expressed his opinion on the matter. he let the majority decide because, with whatever they chose, he would go along with it as long as they could see an end to their journey. then, during s&s, he was the one to suggest leaving. he was the one to suggest killing the voidfish. throughout seeing his actual character, and not just voidfished davenport, we see him constantly pushing towards the gruesome, though some might say “easy way out,” decisions. bc that’s who he is. destroy the crystal bc, even if it hurts people now, it will stop the hunger later. destroy the mountain bc, even if it sucks for this world, we can use the light to save other ones. make a decision between relics and a barrier because, even though we don’t know the results now, it could help later. leave this world, people are gonna die now, but we can try again next cycle. kill the voidfish, because then everyone can fight back. see? very “means to an end.” so, now, how does this factor into forgiveness? w/ the other birds’ forgiveness, it’s hinged on a much more emotional/social level. merle forgives bc it’s in his nature. magnus forgives bc of the bonds he has formed. davenport, though? it’s all… pragmatic, professional, almost? i think he would look at lucretia, at what she had done, and then at the fact that they saved the world, and would think, “well, she did what she had to, because without that, we wouldn’t have saved this world.” i don’t think he enjoyed being turned into just his name, and i still think he and lucretia need to talk, but i think, looking at the results of everything, he kinda sees it as “X had to happen so that Y could.” now, his forgiveness does hinge on saving the world. say they ran to a different plane? i don’t know if davenport would have forgiven her as easily, because then their failure would just look like a halt in their journey. but because they won? i think he would forgive lucretia because, well, they won. they finally got a happy ending and, after looking at all the decisions davenport tried to make, i think it’s safe to say that he understands having to make hard decisions.

barry: barry, like magnus, is complicated, i think. i think he has more notches in the “not forgiving lucretia for a while” category than not. why? similarly to taako, because of lup. except, instead of taako not knowing who lup was until the end, for barry it’s because he knew. when he was a lich, he 1) figured out what lucretia was doing and 2) figured out that lup had been voidfished. he found out that lucretia had made this organization w/ an inherent distrust of magic items and powerful magic users, he found out that lup had been voidfished entirely, and, most of all? lucretia was now actively working against him. i do not subscribe to the idea of lucretia being a villain, but in barry’s eyes, i think she was, just like barry might have been closer to an antagonist in lucretia’s eyes bc he was trying to undo her plan. so, i think barry takes a while to forgive lucretia bc 1) he lost lup, and knew he would forget lup once again once he was “alive” again, 2) lucretia knew he was out there and was now making her organization a place where he could never be, and 3) his friends were now actively working against him bc of the structure of the bureau. i think a huge part of the reason for barry and taako’s reluctance to forgive is so closely hinged on lup (well, for taako, that’s canonical) because i think it’s also important to remember that lup never forgot. sure, she was forgotten, which sucks a whole lot obvi, but she never had to forget her love and her brother. so i think that’s where a sort of rift happens bc taako and barry had to deal with forgetting lup, while lup never forgot them, and though that might be a post in itself if i could think of the right way to word it, i think that also factors into forgiveness a lot. i think, like w/ taako, he and lucretia also have a discussion, except i think that one might be a lot more emotionally charged bc these two were actively working against each other for a time. but i do think that they eventually reach reconciliation and perhaps do actually consider each other friends again.

taako: taako in itself is complicated just bc of how so many people are divided on it, but i think taako’s general rate of forgiveness (and lack thereof for a time) is self explanatory, but i gave my two cents here if you’re interested. tbh, the taako&lucretia situation would be much better told if i actually just wrote a fic on it, bc i feel like my thoughts could be much better expressed in prose than me trying to word my headcanons in a way that people could understand exactly what i have in my head. however, if pressed and given some time to answer and sort out my thoughts in a completely different post, i could probably try to write out all my thoughts on taako&lucretia post-s&s.

The First Bite

So, as promised here’s the first of probably many RPs between me and @ichaisme I’m enjoying writing with her, and it’s probably the closest I’ll get to ever actually writing out this story, so I hope you all enjoy~

It was a peculiar store, walls and shelves full of oddities and the occult.  Joey Drew felt right at home among the dusty trinkets and books claiming to be full of magic. He was thankful Henry knew of his more out there hobbies, and allowed him to indulge. Today, a particular book caught the man's attention, one about vampires. He smirked and rolled his eyes at the ridiculous notion of such things existing, but humored himself with a read anyways. Joey was so engrossed in fact, he didn't notice the man watching him until he heard him clear his throat. "O-oh! My apologies, we're you interested in the book im reading or-" His brow furrowed as he was handed a small card, the strange man whispering. "If you're truly interested in that topic, come to this address tonight, it'll be a night you'll never forget." And with that, the man walked away, leaving Joey to stare at the card in his palm. --- Joey sighed as he looked up at the large, decrepit house in front of him. Oh, Drew, what are you getting yourself into... He just had to be curious. He just had to know. You know what they say about curiosity and cats. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to grab the knocker on the door and giving a good few hits.  Guess it's time to wait, I feel so dumb... what if this is all an elaborate prank?

******** The door slowly opened to reveal the presumable owner of the building. Tall and thin, one could wonder how he held together in his frailty, and yet he exuded a confidence that almost completely covered any concern. The dark red velvet suit jacket, perfectly tailored to him, lined with black and dotted in dark brass buttons, helped cut an impressive figure. Gaze going further up, the pale face practically shone in the dim light. His eyes, a rich brown so bright they almost seemed red, looked him up and down. His emotions danced across his face in a well-rehearsed dance: recognition, understanding, and finally, warm hospitality. “Ah,” he began smoothly, leaning a bit into his cane; the picture of nonchalance. “You must be the guest Alistair invited. My name is Benjamin. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He offered a black gloved hand to shake, tilting his head politely down. The position made it more obvious that his gelled hair pulled back into two distinct points. “Do come in. Dinner is about to be served~” ******** Oh. Oh dear. Joey felt his face heat up as he took in the other man's appearance. He was pretty sure he was a monogamous man, but this stranger was suddenly making him have doubts. He cleared his throat, reaching out to take the hand that was offered, "Drew, Joey Drew," he stumbled, stepping inside. He wasn't sure if he wanted this man to recognize his name or not. Sure, he was proud of his and Henry's work on the Boris cartoons, but what would such a regal gentleman think of him for making silly children's shows? Although, his thoughts were cut off at the idea of food, "Oh, dinner sounds just lovely! I'm starving." ******** “Joey Drew?” He raised a brow, closing the door behind the man after he stepped inside. “The same Joey Drew of Boris cartoon fame?” A man like that, interested in the occult? How interesting. It did… complicate things just a little. Alistair would need to be more discrete about disposal, and other logistics would need to me be hammered out, but… he wouldn’t be the highest-profile victim he’d ever had. “Incredible, being in the presence of such a talent.” The mention of food again brought his sharper smile back, bowing with a flourish and directing him towards the dining room. “Coincidentally, so am I. Shall we dine?” ******** His cheeks reddened more at the recognition, but he didn't respond, instead gladly following towards the dining room. Although, upon reaching their destination, Joey couldn't help but pause. There was a table, just as extravagant as the rest of the house, but it wasn't set in the least, in fact it had a layer of dust, cobwebs clinging to the centerpiece. No one had eaten here in a long time. "Uhhh..." he ran a finger through the dust, his back turned to the men, "I hate to come across as rude, but I am a tad confused on dinner, is it just not here yet?" Just go along with this, Drew, they're obviously pulling your leg. Perhaps two men that are a bit too into role play? ******** Benjamin had to take a moment to compose himself after that. Most who stepped into his dining room realized immediately something horrible was about to happen. They'd try to beg. They'd try to run. All met the same end. But this man... reckless in his interests and completely oblivious to danger, kept up the game. Such naiveté... it was endearing in a way, like a puppy that didn't quite understand that its tail was attached to its body. It was almost a shame to kill him. But, a meal was a meal. A red glow to his eyes signalled the shift. Like a snake advancing on an unaware prey, he slunk up behind him, one hand creeping up to grip Joey's shoulder, tight but not painful. "Perhaps you have been led astray, sir," he murmured into his ear, voice lowering in octave. Another step closer, and Joey stood trapped between the table and Ben's body, solid despite the thinness. "You are the meal~" He relished the sensation a moment, before the grip on Joey's shoulder tightened, and the vampire sank his fangs into his neck. ******** He really was oblivious, convinced he knew the situation. He was going to turn to face the two, expecting some form of 'we got you!!' Instead, Joey found that he couldn't move. Some invisible force kept his body firmly planted in front of the table, his back to the strangers. Fuck. Okay, just breathe Drew. No need to panic. Then the hand was on his shoulder- he was trapped. He couldn't move. He couldn- Oh fuck that hurt- Joey's breathing was uneven, the sounds of swallowing in his ear. He could feel the tug, his blood being forcefully taken. Fuck... this is real... ******** Ben contented himself with drinking at first, but the longer he drained, the more he wondered-- maybe he should let him live. There was some amusement to be had in that. If he intended to though, he had to decide quick. The oddly cute but naive human, or a full meal... With a barely muttered curse he pulled away. That was what he got for still mingling at all with humans. He punctured his own wrist with his fangs, holding Joey firmly upright and in place as he waited for the blood to flow. Such an odd distinction between the living and the (un)dead. He technically still had a heartbeat, slow as it may be. Blood somehow still flowed through his veins, yet... thicker. Darker. More potent. For a vampire to drink another's blood would mean to go insane. For a human... well, it would let him survive how much he'd lost so far. Once there was enough dripping down his arm for a taste, he shoved the bloodied limb into Joey's mouth. ******** Joey Drew was going to die. He'd finally done something stupid enough, and was facing the consequences. Everything was cold, the freezing chill starting in his fingertips, spreading up his arms the more was drank. He wasn't even aware anymore. Everything had gone black, Joey lost in his own mind. But then there was a spark. A small taste like electricity. He felt himself coming back as he licked at whatever was in his mouth. It was amazing. Words couldn't describe how it tasted, how it felt. He wanted more. He reached up, grabbing the limb as it tried to pull away, digging his teeth in. ******** Ben winced a bit. Apparently, the taste was very compelling. That could cause an issue. He shifted his hand up to grip Joey’s hair tightly, forcibly pulling his head away from his wrist, “If you go too far you’ll turn yourself,” he warned with a hiss. “That’s more than enough for you to survive.” ******** A small whine came from Joey's throat as he fought against Ben's hold. This wasn't how the man ever behaved, but that taste. It wouldn't get out of his head. How bad he wanted it. Needed it. He struggled again, trying to lunge for another bite. ******** "Really?" Ben raised a brow, scoffing a bit. "Fine. You can't drain me, and I warned you. Suffer the consequences." He released his grip on the man's hair. ******** As if Joey even comprehended that warning. The second he was let go, he jumped. Joey dug his teeth back into Ben's arm, opening the wound that had already begun healing. He let out a moan, getting lost in the taste as blood filled his mouth. He never wanted to stop. It was sweeter than anything he'd ever tasted, filled him with a newfound energy. But soon- Soon Joey let go, pushing the limb away with a gag. It had turned rotten, burning his throat. He doubled over, gagging and coughing, his mind suddenly clear again. "W-what...?" Joey was trying to get his bearings, remembering where he was, remembering what had happened. It was only after a few minutes did Joey really consider what was going on. He looked up at Ben, his hand going to the dark bite mark on his neck, the wound already healed over. The more time passed, the more Joey noticed was off. There was a steady heartbeat, he tracked the sound, he could hear Alistair's heart. It was loud and clear despite the man being on the other side of the room. Joey panicked, falling backwards as he began hyperventalating. Ben was a demon. A monst- Joey had to protect himself. He dug into his pocket, intent on grabbing the small silver chain he kept there. With a hiss of pain, Joey instantly removed his hand, staring at the smoking skin, and now seeing the sharp black claws on his fingers. His crucifix had burned him. Tears were running down his face, whether from pain, fear, the crushing realization of what had happened... "What did you do?" ******** "Ruined a perfectly good meal," he sighed, glancing over the wound before tugging down his sleeve. "Now the turning you into a vampire part, that was mostly you. I intended to only give you enough to not kill you, but despite my warnings you continued to drink. So here you are." ******** "T-turning me...?" Joey felt his body go cold at those words, sure, it'd been obvious. But hearing the truth out loud like that slapped him in the face. His gaze fell from the other man- the other vampire- to instead stare at the floor. He wasn't human. Joey Drew was a monster. Damned. Cursed. The tears kept flowing, dripping down onto the floor as Joey sat in silence. ******** He sighed softly at the display. "Always a rough time for the newly turned. You will adjust," he said assuredly. "Tread lightly during this time. I'm happy to answer questions.." ******** Joey let out a defeated sigh, wiping his face and standing up. He felt numb. Dead. Because you are dead... "I..." his voice cracked as he tried to speak, his throat horribly dry, "do you have any water...?" ******** He shook his head, unable to keep slight amusement from his face. "Water will not quench your thirst. Not anymore." As he spoke, he slunk over to Alistair's side, placing a leading hand on his shoulder. "May I offer you as this fledgling's first taste, my love? You know I'll watch him very closely," he murmured, audible only to him as they stepped a bit closer to where Joey stood. ******** Alistair of course gave a diligent nod, he would do anything for Benjamin. Although, he did now have a light blush thanks to how soft the other was. Joey on the other hand, he was trembling, terrified once more of what he'd become. He didn't fully hear the conversation, but he could easily figure out what had been discussed. "N-no!" He took a step back, unfortunately bumping right into the table, "I can't...!" ******** "Of course you can. You live in an either or. Either you drink, or you die. Better have your first in a controlled environment, learn humanity's limits since I doubt you're willing to kill. Your other option is to go feral with hunger and likely hurt someone you care about. I suppose that's your choice." He wasn't about to coddle Joey, though he did feel he should insist at least once before letting him go. No one could accuse him of not trying then. ******** Go feral... and hurt someone...? Joey frowned, hating that the other vampire was right. This was his life now. He needed- Joey didn't want to think about that. Just drink some and move on with life. Ignore that you're a bloodthirsty monster. He nodded, turning to Alistair. The man gave a small smile, tucking his long black hair behind his ear and exposing his neck. With a nervous glance at the human's face, he leaned in and bit down. ******** True to his whispered promise, he stayed close by the entire time Joey fed, half possessive, half out of concern. First time biters had a tendency to go too far. And if he dared even try to take a drop more of what he should from Alis, he was going to separate them. ******** Alistair winced, it wasn't at all gentle and warm like when Ben fed from him on occasion. Of course it wouldn't be, Ben was experienced, this was Joey's first time. He glanced over at Benjamin, his brows furrowing in concern as he started feeling weak. How much was he going to take? Joey didn't want to admit it, but it did taste good. It came natural as well. Each swallow calming the dry scratch in his throat. Filling him with a wonderful full feeling he knew he'd crave forev- He let go with a hiss when he felt a small tug, only moving about an inch away from the bite to bare his fangs at whoever was daring to take his meal. "Mine." ******** The second Alistair glanced at him, he reached to pull Joey lightly away. Oh, but that hiss. That claim. He bristled with barely contained rage, throwing him back with superhuman strength.  "NO. MINE. Control yourself, or I will do that for you," he growled, hugging Alistair possessively to him. ******** When Joey hit, something had cracked from the impact. Him or the wall, he couldn't tell let alone care at this moment. His meal was being taken. He got up, ready to fight. ******** Ben scowled and held Alis a little tighter. “Fine. I warned you.” He glared, letting his rage funnel into his order, “RELAX. Take a seat while you’re at it. Calm down.” ******** Joey felt his whole body suddenly untense. He slumped back against the wall he'd hit, sliding down to the floor to sit. He stared at the other two, confused and a bit shaken at his body moving on his own. ******** “You’re wondering what just happened,” Ben commented, watching him. “We are... bonded, in a way. My blood turned you. If I order you to do something, anything at all, your body will obey without question, even if your mind objects. I don’t intend to abuse that power, but until you can control your urges, I will use it disciplinarily. For example, when you get too consumed by the taste of blood.” He scoffed a bit, then realized he was still hugging his partner to him. A bit of composure lost, he quickly separated, but couldn’t help but linger slightly with his hand on his cheek. “How are you feeling?” ******** Alistair smiled at the hand on his cheek, Ben was always such a comfort. He glanced over at Joey, the fledgling sitting with his head hung in silence, then looked back up at Ben, "I'll be alright, Sir, just a bit dizzy." He reached up to his neck, feeling the sticky mess that remained with a grimace. ******** His gaze traveled down to the blood on his neck. “Let me take care of that. And Joey, pay attention,” he ordered carefully. “This is arguably the most important part of the process, if you don’t want to kill someone. You need to seal the puncture wounds. If you don’t, they can bleed out.” With affection and tenderness, he brought his mouth to Alistair’s neck, cleaning the mess Joey left behind with his tongue, willing assurance and warmth into every action. He put particular attention to the puncture wounds themselves, allowing enough time for it to fully close. ******** Alistair couldn't help the shiver that went down his spine, nor his cheeks heating up. He loved getting attention like this from Ben. The taller man being so gentle and caring, considering what Alistair has seen him do to men, it reminded him just how precious he was to the vampire. Joey let out a small sigh of frustration as he watched, he was still under Benjamin's control, unable to speak or move. ******** He smiled a bit as he felt him shiver, lingering a bit longer close to him before finally pulling away. "There we go. Joey, you are free now. Blood loss is serious." ******** Joey remained silent, but stood. He didn't want to acknowledge what had happened. He didn't want to accept what he was. But... after a few more stretches of silence he spoke, "I," he took a deep breath, "I don't think I can do this on my own." He wanted to just leave. Leave and be done with this night. Yet he knew he'd need to feed again. ******** Ben nodded a bit, "Come to us. We can guide you through the process, and you will not have to kill anyone," he offered. ******** "T-thank you," he mumbled in response, I won't have to kill anyone. It'll be fine. Joey moved towards the door, trying to ignore the freezing numbness in his chest at the fear of just what he'd gotten himself into.

Hi! I was wondering, what are some examples of lesbian-coded characters in fiction? Whenever i've seen posts about gay-coded characters it's usually about male gay-coded characters, which is good! They deserve to be talked about! But I was wondering who some gay-coded female characters are.

generally speaking when people talk about “gay coded” characters in fiction its from older media during a time when it was actually illegal to show gay characters having happy endings. the bury your gays trope didnt just show up one day, it happened because for a period of time the only way producers were allowed to show gay characters was either if one or both of them died, they became heterosexual at the end, or they had otherwise unhappy endings in an attempt to discourage The Youths from being gay (side note here: making gay characters die doesnt mean fewer people irl are gay its just means they have no positive role models but uh i think we all know that here)

that meant that if directors or producers wanted to represnt gay people with happy endings, they would have to code the character as gay, but not explicitly say they were gay. most of the time this was done with whatever gay stereotypes pervaded at the time - in early hollywood that would be things like having the women smoke and work, the men would be more effeminate, etc. if that was too obvious, it would be “independent women” or men who werent interested in dating. 

as a result we dont necessarily get “gay coded” characters today like we used to, because censorship laws no longer prevent displaying gay characters in a positive light. if producers and writers want a gay character, they can just put in a gay character, and there are no rules about how that characters story has to end, although most writers and directors still choose to kill of the gay characters because theyre homophobes but thats a story for a different time

but “gay coding” hasnt necessarily gone away, either, because gay characters are still considered “mature” and cant really be shown in childrens tv shows, books, or movies without outrage from homophobes. so in a way, gay coding does still exist, just on a different level.

i dont really read or watch a lot of media from periods of time where gay characters were required to be portrayed negatively, so i cant really think of any off the top of my head. as far as characters that were gay coded in modern tv shows, janice ian from mean girls was gay coded (tina fey chose not to condemn lebophobic bullying by throwing janice into a shoehorned hetero romance at the end that makes no sense instead of letting janice be the lesbian she was born to be), i have never seen bend it like beckham but everyone talks about all the gay subtext in that, i think velma from scooby doo was actually going to be a lesbian but there was too much controversy over that so they made her straight but she was still gay coded imo, a lot of people see miss honey from matilda as gay coded

for the most part, i think most of the “gay coding” people talk about in modern media doesnt actually fit the technical definition of “gay coding” which was a system set up to defy to censorship laws by deliberately having characters flag as gay without forcing them to have unhappy endings. most of what we call “gay coding” today is not intentional by the writers (who will almost always adamantly defend the heterosexuality of their characters) but is instead an interpretation by the viewers, which doesnt necessarily decrease the value of the characters, but it does show authors true colors when they get very upset about their viewers interpreting the characters differently than the writers intended (im sure yall saw the supergirl debacle thing, it was all over my dash)

it does, to me, show an interesting disconnect between straight people and understanding the gay experience, however, for example, many lesbians see twilight and relate to bella heavily (bc shes a lesbian lol), mostly because bella’s experiences and emotions often match up very similarly to their own. while stephanie meyer will defend the Pure Heterosexuality of her precious characters, it doesnt change the fact that there are a lot of points in the twilight series that are very typical to lesbians experiencing lots of internalized lesbophobia: bella was never interested in dating until some Magical Unattainable boy came up, who then became Less Unattainable, who was Unlike Other Men, whose abusive behaviors she (unknowingly) misinterpretted for love, when in reality she confused her desire for male approval because of her father’s poor parenting that she got through edward as actual romantic love. the female characters she did connect to (alice, angelina, even rosalie if you look closely, wow im remembering more of these names than i thought i would) were all much healthier relationships, and in some ways closer than most friendships tend to be (if you interpret it that way) in the same way many lesbians confused romantic love for platonic love for their friends. when viewed through that lense, seeing bella as a lesbian who hasnt come to term with her lesbianism yet due to being abused as a child and having an abusive boyfriend, it makes a lot more sense than “she met a hot vampire dude who thinks shes great for some reason and now she wants to bone him.” but since stephanie is a shitty writer who doesnt understand the lesbian experience, she will refuse to see it that way and instead protest that no, it really is just a super elaborate love story, not that she doesnt know how to write romance and that she accidentally created a closeted lesbian character in an abusive relationship.

anyway wow sorry for this essay im supposed to be reading my physics textbook now which is why i psychoanalyzed twilight there for a hot second but anyway u didnt really ask for this but thats my hot take for the day

I’ll haunt the shit out of you- Chapter 1.

First of all- ghosts shouldn’t have anxiety.

Of all the fucking things that could have followed him into death- it had to be an ever-impending sense of doom and discomfort? Hadn’t he already reached his doom? Was death not doom enough?

Secondly- Katsuki listened to some god-awful music.

It hadn’t entirely been his decision to haunt Katsuki- though out of all the things that had happened to him since he died he supposed this was the thing that bothered him the least. Probably because it reminded him the most of when he had been alive.

He stood- or uh; floated now he supposed- there and tried to get Katsuki’s attention and either he ignored his existence entirely or he yelled and threw things and told him to go away.

Originally, he had just intended to go back home- because what the hell else was he going to do? And he had for a little bit- but his mother had cried and cried, and he just felt so terrible.

There was no consoling her, she just wept and looked at pictures of him and no matter how hard he tried to hug her; he just couldn’t reach her and it was just torture.

He was going to stick with it though; after all he was here for a reason he supposed and he should probably figure out what that reason was. But then he went to his funeral- and let me tell you that was the weirdest experience- ever.

Staring down at yourself lifeless in a coffin- like he knew he was dead but he was really dead. Like that was his body- laying there. Dead.

That was when he realized that ghosts- fucking have anxiety.

Well maybe not all ghosts- but he did; lets correct that. Ghosts had the capacity for anxiety.

How fucked up is that?

So, there he was- having a panic attack at his own funeral. Staring down at his lifeless green mop of hair and trying to tune out his mother’s high-pitched wails when Katsuki Bakugou looked him dead in the eye.

Now; he could have been looking somewhere else- it is entirely possible.

But Izuku just could not shake the feeling that he saw him.

Saw him.

He looked away quickly and left the funeral as quickly as his legs would take him and Izuku could have just brushed it off and gone home- but it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss him If he wasn’t there to awkwardly float around in the kitchen; or attempt to possess an all might doll.

So, he followed Katsuki home.

That had been a week ago and as it turns out.

Katsuki can see ghosts- or he can see Midoriya anyway. They hadn’t really delved into the seeing other ghosts part of things.

Also, as it turns out; Katsuki did not want to be able to see ghosts.

Which would have been fine if anyone else in then entire world could fucking see him- and believe him he tried. He followed every one of his classmates around the classroom- pulling faces and yelling and nobody so much as looked up from their worksheets or glanced in his direction.

So, they were in a bit of a situation.

“you can’t ignore me forever!” he yelled, positioning himself between Katsuki and his homework.

The boy huffed putting his eyes anywhere but on Izuku and continuing to work.

“I know you can see me” he added taking the liberty to wiggle around a bit on top of Kacchan’s desk.

Still no eye contact.

Of course, not because when had Kacchan ever made anything easy.

Midoriya huffed.

Of all the people in the world that could see him; and he had to get stuck with this surly asshole who won’t even acknowledge his existence. It was stupid. He wished his mother could see him; or Iida they would at least talk to him. They wouldn’t make him feel like maybe he was crazy- maybe he was just a crazy ghost yelling at a teenage boy who couldn’t hear him at all.

He wished-

He wished he wasn’t fucking dead is what he wished.

But that option was long gone so he settled for wishing that Katsuki would just fucking answer him for once. Because he knew- he knew he had to be able to see him.

He caught him staring- when he though he wasn’t looking.

At spots that would just be blank wall- but never the same spot. Spots that only made sense to stare at because Izuku was there.

He caught him whispering things- under his breath.

Soft reassurances that he was fine- that it was the grief talking. That he wasn’t crazy.

Caught him snickering when he had all but flown through Minatas’s head- still half worried he would get stuck in the stupid grape juice balls the dumb kid had attached to him.

But after all this he still hadn’t believed a single word out of Izuku’s mouth and it was driving him mad.

He flung himself across the room, as dramatically as you can when you don’t really have legs- or arms; or body mass at all.

Just a vague outline of where those used to be.

He had been trying and nothing was getting through to this kid and he was about at his wits end.

He didn’t know what to do anymore- what do you do when you’re dead? You’re supposed to pass on- do something but he was stuck here.

He was stuck here, and he didn’t know how to get back and he didn’t know how to cross over, and he was just- stuck.

With this asshole- and his stupid rap goes country- bullshit CDs that Izuku could hardy understand, and it just made him so angry he could explode- he tried to slam his fist into the cd player willing it with all his might to just die.

He surprised himself when the contact his hand made was solid and the cd player crashed onto the floor.

“what the fuck?” Katsuki yelled “what are you doing you stupid nerd?”

“you can see me!” he had yelled back relishing the fact that he finally got Katsuki to speak to him; even if that hadn’t been the original intent; but hey he wasn’t going to complain.

“of course, I can fucking see you!” he hissed back- “you’re here all the fucking time and I can’t manage to get you to go away! You’re in my room, and following me to class, and hovering over me when I try to do my classwork I can’t even threaten to kill you because you’re supposed to already be dead!”

Katsuki sounded angry but his face betrayed him- it was pale, his normally firm unwavering stance was slightly off kilter and his breathing was uneven.

He was scared.

Izuku had scared him.

He didn’t know if he should feel bad, or laugh.

“you could have at least acknowledged I exist.” Izuku huffed.

“yeah and let everyone think I’m insane? No thank you?” Kacchan brushed him off.

Midoriya thought about it for a moment- deciding that it was fair; at least partially that Kacchan was ignoring him after all they didn’t really want Heroes that talked to their ex classmates long after they were buried. That was just on the wrong side of crazy.

But when they were here- when they were alone and nobody else was around. Well he didn’t see why he had to float around aimlessly when Kacchan could see him. Could talk to him even.

“you could just talk to me when we’re here.” He suggested- and Kacchan’s face twisted in annoyance Midoriya rushed to elaborate before he could say no. “because you’re the only one who knows I exist- and I think If I don’t talk to someone soon I’m going to explode.”

Kacchan said nothing.

But he didn’t look away from him either and Izuku couldn’t help but think that this was a point they wouldn’t come back from and he honestly didn’t know if he was happy about it or not.

“fine.” He finally muttered. “but you have to relax a little at school- you’re really distracting im going to fall behind.”

Izuku considered it a minute and then nodded. It seemed like a fair trade- he would get someone to talk to and all he had to do was be a little less distracting in class. That couldn’t be too hard.

“deal.” He replied- and he felt- happy.

He wasn’t sure what he expected would happen when he died; but he was sure it wasn’t this. He didn’t expect to be floating around as a ghost- he didn’t expect to still feel things so vividly. Like he was still- alive. Everything in life had not prepared him for this and he couldn’t help but wonder if he was somehow doing everything wrong

Because leave it to Izuku Midoriya to not even be able to die properly. Honestly- he could have messed it all up because he didn’t quite remember what happened to begin with.

One minute he was walking down the street; and he heard someone screaming for help- and he rushed down the ally to find a woman drenched in her own blood held against a wall by -someone that he couldn’t quite place. He remembers fighting- vaguely; and he remembers it being harder and harder to breath and then he remembers blacknes.

Dark. And cold- and then nothing.

The next thing he remembers is staring down at himself in a hospital bed- wires hooked up to him everywhere; beeping, and screaming and crying and so many doctors clamoring to fix it.

But- it couldn’t be fixed.

He had struggled for a little while- to figure out what was going on. Because his mother was weeping and begging him to come back and he couldn’t because he was right here.

And she just couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him.

He would have screamed his throat raw if he could have- because he just wanted to be there. To help her.

Some fucking hero he was.

but this was his life now; or his death- he supposed.

He didn’t really know what to call it because it felt like he was sill living. He still laughed, and cried, and had panic attacks. He still wanted to learn- he still wanted to live.

It didn’t feel, final like death was supposed to feel.

And he still had Kacchan-

He didn’t know if it made it better or worse.

Because sometimes it made him forget that he was- you know.

And sometimes- sometimes that was good and other times it was terrible because he let himself forget and for a minute everything was the same.

He was still pushing himself into spaces that Kacchan didn’t want him in- still making terrible jokes and assessing everything around him. Kacchan was still calling him a stupid nerd- but was asking his opinion a little bit more; because after all he was there when he was training. Watching- so it would have been stupid not to.

And for a little while it would be beautiful- and then he would remember.

Or- he would stop pretending.

And he would realize that nothing was the same at all.

That he wasn’t a student anymore- even though he sat through the classes in the back of the room- and he wasn’t a son because his mother had lost her son and he was just a-

He was just a ghost.

Of a person who used to be a person but was now just-

He didn’t fucking know.

And that’s when it would always hit him.

The panic-

The overwhelming fear that he had no idea what he was doing- or where he was going and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do because ghosts aren’t supposed to be real. And he wasn’t supposed to be one and he just didn’t know how to stop- being.

The worst part about panic attacks when you’re a ghost- is that you cant breathe to calm yourself down. You just have to let it happen- and remind yourself through the haze of emotions coursing through your non corporeal frame that- the worst that could possibly happen to you.

Has already happened.

And you just have to hope it will go away.

Or at least that’s all he had figured out so far.

Except this time it just wasn’t really working- which was fine; great even because why the hell would he need to be doing anything else other than trying to breathe air into lungs that don’t exist.

And this time was worse- because Kacchan had to walk in right in the thick of it and if Midoroya wasn’t already dead he would have wished he was.

“what’s wrong?” Katsuki asked sounding almost concerned- and Midoriya should have seemed more surprised- but he wasn’t really. Because you don’t spend every waking second with someone and not grow at least a little bit attached to them

Even if you hated them before.

But he couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t find words.

And he just- floated there. Probably looking like a dead fish.

And Katsuki looked confused- and worried.

Midoriya wanted to help him but he was wrapped up in his own panic- wrapped in this preassure- tight and unrelenting and he was fucking drowning in it and he couldn’t come up for air no matter how hard he tried.

“breathe.” Kacchan reminded him.

And wasn’t that just rich.

He laughed- sharp and mocking and a little too full of spite for his liking but there Is something about dying that puts a bit of a damper on ones overwhelming optimism and he coudnt help but be a little jaded.

“I cant fucking breathe” he retorted- still laughing like maybe he had gone mad- he felt a little like he had gone mad because one second everything was crashing around him and the next everything was still crashing but he was laughing and- maybe this is what madness felt like. “im dead.” He finally finished after a good bout of laughter.

Katsuki was staring at him- like he was crazy.

Which was fair- because what teenage boy needs a fucking crazy anxiety ridden ghost of his ex classmate in his bedroom.

But then he was laughing too.

And they were both laughing- and Kacchan’s face had this way of just glowing when he laughed- he almost forgot what that looked like but here they were- and he was fucking laughing- and nothing was okay; and he was dead for gods sakes but- for a minute, it felt like it was all going to turn out alright.