#in the process of learning how to not murder people by accident

[yanderes-galore]

Here is my other request: it's a scenario for a platonic Pop (HTF) that wants reader as a new kid. After Cub died for good, Pop lost his sanity to grief, guilt and loneliness, to the point that nothing in his life mattered anymore. Honestly, i think he wouldn't even mind if his paws were covered in blood. Now, entering Yandere territory. Imagine if this Pop found reader, who is in their twenties. The bear meets a kind, gentle and friendly person who ends up captivating him to the point that he starts to act like a father to them. Maybe it's fate giving him another chance. Now, he promises that he will never let anything happen to his new child, even if his claws and fangs are dripping with the blood of more people. (possible scenario: Lifty and Shifty try to rob reader, only to find a broken and angry bear who has nothing left to lose. The result: two mutilated raccoons. You can put as much gore as you want).

OH BOY! Haven't touched Happy Tree Friends in a while. Time to go back to what I do best... psychotic bears.

May have spelling/grammar errors, it was no properly checked for errors.

Projections

Yandere! Pop Story

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of loss, Mind break, Blood, Gore, Death, Major character death (Cub is dead, so are Lifty and Shifty), Manipulation, Violence, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Murder, Disturbing descriptions, Dubious companionship.

The death of a child is never easy for a parent. Even if you've seen it countless times... Waking up like it's some nightmare... The trauma sticks with you. Pop thought losing his son would be just another one of his nightmares....

No... life decided it would like to be cruel to him once again.

Pop first lost his wife... now he lost his dearest Cub in a freak accident. The bear still couldn't process the amount of blood on his own fur. He remembers he couldn't stop shaking... his eyes twitching as he stares at the blood on his paws.

Even as he woke up in the morning, it was all still the same. He woke up alone. No wife, no kid, just him.

Just him and the memory of holding his son... Both covered in blood.

Pop didn't think he'd recover. He was tired of these nightmares involving death. All he ever saw was blood deep in his mind and it led the bear to constant nights of suffering.

Pop doubted he'd even be a parent again. He doubted he'd even get to feel the joys of that anymore. No... he was a failure, just a bear undeserving of his own name.

However... then life decided it wanted to play nice again.

Out on a walk, Pop met you.

You were an adult who had been partaking in college. You were at the park to catch some fresh air after studying and came across Pop. Being respectful, you offer chat to the bear.

Pop was hesitant at first but eventually joined you on a bench. From there, Pop learned you were kind... gentle... and friendly. You cared to listen to what he's gone through and you two managed to become good... friends...?

Pop wonders if Cub would've grown up to be just like you if he was alive. The thought brings tears to his eyes for just a moment, yet you manage to distract him from the pain. You... You were such a sweet angel.

Perhaps you were sent to him as a second chance.

A chance to be redeemed as a parent and mentor.

Since your meeting in the park, Pop has offered himself up as a mentor for you. He became someone you could rely on as you worked through college. Part if him wonders how Cub would've done at college....

Unbeknownst to you, you became a replacement for Cub. In Pop's eyes, you were his new kid. A kid he'd do anything to protect...

Anything as long as it meant you lived a safe and happy life.

Pop never took his eyes off you. He had your number in his phone and tried to be near you at all times. He even decorated your nickname in his phone.

Pop often invited you to bowling, he offers to play Tetris with you... He even asks if you like barbecue. He wants to prove he can be a good father figure for you. He's trying his hardest to embrace this second chance he was gifted with.

Although, the true test came quicker than he thought.

Pop never liked Lifty and Shifty. The two raccoons were no good crooks who took advantage of others. He didn't think he could hate them more.

Until he caught them robbing you in an alley.

After that... all that was left was red.

Pop never saw you cower into the corner as he lunged at the two raccoons. Pop never heard himself roar as he tore into their flesh. He barely even tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

The alleyway becomes painted red. The squeals and screeches of raccoons rings out before going dead silent. The smell of gore stings in your nose.

Pop's onslaught only stops when he hears sobbing. Your sobbing brings him back to reality. To him it sounds like the cry of a baby...

His baby.

Pop snaps back, spitting out chunks of flesh as he looks down. Once again... he's covered in blood... and it's not another nightmare. The taste is all real and he stares down at the mangled and gouged corpses of the raccoons who tried to rob you.

His wide bloodshot eyes snap to you. You're crying... screaming... but he saved you. Those raccoons can't hurt you anymore.

They're dead forever... just like Cub... just like his family...

But he has you now... and you have him.

"Sweetheart..." The bear finally speaks, coming closer as you try to scurry away. "It's all going to be okay... they can't hurt you anymore."

You try to run, but the bear quickly pulls you into his arms. You struggle and gag at the feeling of blood and gore in his fur. You want to go home.

"Just relax..." The bear coos. "Papa bear is here now... just calm down."

Eventually you relax yourself in an attempt to appease Pop. He smiles softly... his smile bloody. You convulsed in disgust again before Pop sighs.

"Let's get you home, baby..." Pop chirps, dragging you out of the alleyway.

"We both need to get cleaned up!"

You follow him reluctantly... Too tired and stressed to fight... although you begin to assume you aren't going to your home tonight.

#yandere happy tree friends #yandere htf #yandere pop #yandere pop the bear #platonic yandere

[dingoat]

[Ugh do you know how HARD this one was for me to figure out when we still have so much BETWEEN THEM to work out??? Have they told each other they love one another yet? Will they, would they? Anyway I did my best and it still hurt >.> ~750 words on the theme of pining for the impossible and a big big problem with bonded souls.]

You're Not Mine

She didn’t want to think about the time drawing to an end, she almost didn’t… want to keep progressing, knowing that every step forward she took in gaining control over her wild half also drew her a step closer to having to… leave.

She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to be apart. She wanted him to come with her even though she knew it was impossible, he never would, and yet she could not stay here forever, the thought of drawing out her return to the fox left her writhing with guilt. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair, and yet all she could do was cling onto every moment she had  while it was still there for her to hold.

“Ahuska,” Thirteen’s voice was gently amused. “How about you not dig in those claws like you’re holding on for dear life.”

“Sorry, sorry-” she winced and pulled back her hands from around his waist, folding them self consciously against her chest only to have one of his strong, long-fingered hands wrap around hers and tug it gently back to his side.

She shivered, then sighed, and tucked her face under his chin. “It’s not fair,” she whispered, as she had countless times before.

He knew what she meant. He felt what she meant. And he softly sighed in kind, knowing he could no more lie to her than cut out his own tongue. “It isn’t,” he agreed, moving his hand to rub slow, comforting circles between her shoulderblades.

“I don’t want a life without you in it,” she murmured, her muzzle sleek and soft against his jawline.

And it hurt him, as it hurt her, and he was silent for a while as he tried to find the words that would help her understand why she yearned for the impossible. “Ahuska. I love you, but you’re not mine,” he whispered, but as sweet and earnest as his tone was, he couldn’t guard against the way her heart twisted to hear it.

“Why not, why not? Your heart is big enough for me as well, I know it, I know it…”

“Big enough for your love, maybe,” he said, his hand sliding to the back of her head, fingers weaving through her hair, hoping to soothe her before speaking further. Their hearts shared their melancholy, their wistfulness, their frustration at a galaxy that had pressed them together when they could not be. He tilted his head and kissed the bridge of her muzzle. “Your love, but not your hate.”

“What- what?” She gave her head a fierce little shake against his face. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you, you know I don’t blame you for the way anything happened…”

“Five,” Thirteen said, and the way she twisted against him, her response so deep and visceral that the revulsion echoed in his own heart, only made him more certain.

She hid her grimace by tucking her face between his neck and the cushion, but she could do nothing to keep her own feelings from him. “So what?  You’re not him.”

“But I love him,” Thirteen answered simply. “You have every right to hate him, and I would never ask you to change that, to forgive him for my sake.”

“So what’s…”

“I don’t blame you for your feelings. But I can’t stand to feel them for myself, and I’m sure you don’t appreciate sharing mine.”

She didn’t.

Opening her heart to him had been… oh, it had been everything, to know one another so perfectly, man and bothan and wolf and hawkbat, but she knew how carefully they skirted around the subject of Five. She didn’t want their bond tainted with an awareness of Thirteen’s love and loyalty for him…

And how could Thirteen go to him, with Ahuska’s seething aversion simmering in the back of his mind?

How could she do that to him?

“Don’t,” he whispered, feeling her on the verge of spiralling. “You’re bigger than the mess life made of you. You’ll be unstoppable one day, and you won’t need me.”

She shuddered, and closed her eyes as she tucked herself more closely against him. “But I want you.”

“And right now you have me,” he reminded her as he kissed her on the forehead. Please, gods. He fought to convince himself as strongly as he wished it for her. Let it be enough.

#swtor #swtor fic #imperial agent #and a lil force sensitive bothan #in the process of learning how to not murder people by accident #something something overcoming imperial conditioning #anyway I'm so grateful for all the asks folk sent #I have not had much at all by way of art energy this week #so it's nice to have something different to exercise creativity on #and mulling over the potential stories #helps get through the damp and dreary work days #I am #so very weary #XD #dingoat writes

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

"Bad news first, Eddie," Steve sighs as he leans back on his heels, cleaner in one hand and a rag in the other. "They vandalized your headstone again. Good news, I beat Wayne out here so he won't be seeing it."

It's been over a year since they'd had to leave Eddie behind. He'd been cleared of the murders. That had been the easy part, since the Upside Down had exploded out into the Rightside Up. When Vecna started killing people it had been pretty easy for people to realize Eddie was just another victim.

Or so Steve had thought.

Eleven saved them all, the people of Hawkins knew the truth, yet Steve still found graffiti on Eddie's grave.

Eddie's grave is empty, because Eddie's body hadn't been recovered. Too much had happened, no time to mount an expedition to retrieve it, and the gates were closed. Another regret Steve lives with.

Like not taking Eddie's face between his hands and looking him dead in the eye when he told them not to be heroes.

Late at night, Steve sometimes imagines he did just that. Looked him dead in the eyes and said, "there is no shame in running, in living to see another day. Don't be a hero because I need you to be okay tomorrow."

Robin says it's not good for his mental health, these what-if scenarios, but so what?

Steve isn't sure what started it but coming out here to talk to Eddie seems to help him clear his thoughts. He always starts with the bad news, Eddie's voice in the back of his mind. Bad news first, always.

The first time Wayne had caught him out here, Wayne thought he was vandalizing. Had scared Steve half to death being yanked back violently by his upper arm. It didn't take Wayne long for his eyes to process that Steve wasn't holding paint.

"You know my boy?" Wayne always spoke in the present tense about Eddie.

"Not as well as I would have liked, sir," Steve swallowed thickly. It was the start of a friendship, of sorts. Wayne seemed happy to have someone to tell stories about Eddie to, and Steve was happy to learn about Eddie.

Months pass and Steve goes every week.

"Bad news. The new guitarist is mediocre at best. Good news. Corroded Coffin lives on and they finally got a new guitarist."

"Bad news. Robin will not shut up about Vickie. Good news. Robin got that date she wanted."

"Bad news. Wayne had an accident at the plant. Good news, he's okay. I think... this might be weird to you, but I've convinced him to move in, at least until he's healed fully so he's not alone. He's staying in the downstairs guest room. Not that you know where that is. You've never even been to my house... bad news, you've never been to my house. Good news, I really wish you had."

So it goes. Wayne Munson moves in and never moves out. Steve's parents call once, to ask if he wants the house. Steve says yes.

Shortly after, Robin takes a room upstairs. Says she gonna take a year off school before college. The Party moves their dnd games to Steve's giant dining room table. His house is always full but part of Steve feels empty.

"B-bad news," Steve forces the words out around the lump in his throat, "I found out too late. Good news, I'm bisexual. Bad news, good news? I don't know man, the news is I could have loved you. I think I do, but that's the you Wayne and the kids tell me about, so who is to say really."

So it goes.

"Bad news. They're seniors this year, Eds. Seniors! Robin going away to college was bad enough. I don't know if I'll even know how to function when they do. 'Cause they're gonna, you know? They're smart. Too smart to stay in this town," Steve is crying, can feel the tears falling, but doesn't stop them. "I know I should go, too. Somewhere else. Anywhere else. But I can't leave. Wayne's here. You're here. And if I go, who will look after either of you?"

"Bad news. College acceptance letters have come in. They're not even graduated yet. This should be good news, but, heh, friends don't lie."

"Bad news, Eds. I can't remember your voice. I didn't think.... I feel like I remember it but I can't hear it. I want to hear it. I-i need-" Steve doesn't know what he needs, doesn't know how to end that sentence so he just sobs, fingers burying themselves into the dirt of an empty grave.

Wayne gets a phone call one day and says he's gotta go back to Tennessee. Eddie's father -that rocks Steve because while he knows Wayne was Eddie's uncle, he never connected that a father was somewhere out there- Eddie's father, Wayne's younger brother, needs him.

Steve drives Wayne to the airport in Indianapolis. Wayne promises he'll return but Steve won't hold him to that. This is family, and as much as Steve pretends, he isn't Wayne's nephew. Isn't Wayne's family.

As Wayne disappears onto his flight, Steve is left hollow. There's no one left in Hawkins that needs him.

"Bad news, Eds. I think I'm a danger to myself. I keep having these thoughts... like how easy it would be to drive my car into the quarry. Or just slip into the pool and take a deep breath. I don't know who I am, or how to be me, without someone needing me."

Wayne calls and tells him he's coming home. Bringing a guest if that's ok. Steve says okay because he needs to meet the man who taught Eddie how to hot wire a car but not play catch. Also, he hopes to hear Eddie in his voice when they speak.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

And then, a miracle happens.

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #ficlet #wrote this on my lunch break and thought i would share #angst with a happy ending #like I'm gonna let this end sad #might write Eddie's side of this sometime #not edited #my fic

[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter seventy eight

close to home | chapter seventy eight

plot: the war with the whisperers comes to an end

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 4,829 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, character death

You watched Daryl walk off the following day on his way to track Negan. When Aaron got here early this morning after being on the run the entire night, he filled you and Daryl in on what happened with Negan. So Daryl wanted to find him. And hopefully, find anyone else that made it out of the community. 

His going off on his own wasn’t exactly what you wanted. But he promised he’d be back if he didn’t find anything. And you knew he needed to process what happened. As much as you wanted to keep him here, beg him to stay; he needed to go. If anyone could find Negan, find anyone, it would be him. 

So you sat with Josie and Judith while RJ played inside the house with the kids. Judith had been quiet the entire night and stayed close to you. But she didn’t say much. You glanced over at her. Josie was sitting on her lap per her request, and you could see her tight grip on the baby. You knew very well how much Judith loved her baby cousin. 

“You wanna tell me what’s been bothering you?” You softly said. “I know something’s wrong, Jude.”

She bit the corner of her lip. “I… I killed someone at Hilltop. A whisperer. It was an accident. And then Earl, he was bit. I put him down. It had to be me.”

Your heart ached as you thought about Carl. You’d heard those same exact words from him years ago. The pain of losing him still sat with you. Perhaps that's why you were so fiercely protective over Judith. She reminded you so much of the young man you missed. 

You could see on her face that she was struggling with it. She felt guilt about it, and you thought back to your very first kill. “When the world ended, I was with a man named Liam. Did you know I was engaged before I met your uncle Daryl?”

Judith shook her head. 

“Well, I was. He was the father of my first child. The one I told you about.” You swallowed the lump and wrapped your arm around Judith’s slim shoulders. “Everything was chaos when it happened. We were trying to get out of Atlanta. There were people everywhere, walkers too. The army was moving in to try and help. Liam and I, we stopped at this corner store to pick up supplies. But it was already pretty empty. We ended up running into some real assholes. I had a gun, but I wasn’t very good at it. But they were going to hurt Liam. So I killed one of them. He was the first man I ever killed. Sometimes I still think about him.”

“But he was going to hurt you. Why do you think about it?”

“Well, why are you thinking about the whisperer you killed?”

She hesitated. “Because I didn’t know…”

“You were just trying to help, weren’t you?” You asked, and she nodded. “Well, they attacked us, sweetheart. And if you didn’t kill them, what if they killed you? Or RJ or Josie? What if they came and killed me?”

“But I still killed them.”

You cleared your throat as you thought about what to say. In a perfect world, you would explain to her that murder is wrong. That nobody had the right to take another life. But that world was gone. And killing meant surviving. Killing meant your family lived. You hoped she would live in a world where killing wasn’t the norm.

So you moved from the fallen tree you’d been sitting on and knelt before her and Josie. “Listen to me, Judith Grimes. When you need to take a life, it is going to stay with you. And it’s going to be hard. And you shouldn’t like it. No matter what anyone tells you, you should never like it. No matter who the person is or what they did. Because killing someone takes something from you. And you need to learn to live with it. Killing is surviving.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You looked at her sweet face and Josie’s. “Too many to count, sweetheart. But what you did for Earl. That was mercy. You did the right thing. It is our responsibility to put each other down so we don’t turn.”

“Did Carl do it?”

You nodded slowly. “Your brother was one of the most empathetic and courageous boys I’ve ever known. Sweetheart, I know you know about your birth mom. About what happened to her. It was Carl who put her down.”

Judith looked at you with a quizzical expression. “He did?”

“He did it so she could rest.” You pushed her hair behind her ear. “And you did the same for Earl. And we all will do the same for each other. If I get bit one day, Daryl knows what he has to do. And if he does, I know what I have to do. I don’t want you to ever feel bad about putting a loved one down.”

“Did Carl ever kill anyone?” She asked. You thought about Carl’s letter and what he asked of you. You had no idea how complicated it would be. But you promised the dead boy that you would be Judith’s friend first, before a parental figure. Just like you were with Carl.  

Slowly, you nodded. “He did, sweetheart. I’m not going to pretend he didn’t or lie to you. But he only did it when he had to. When it was to protect us. That’s what you did, too.”

“Am I like him?”

You smiled and felt tears prick at your eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you are just like him. You look at the world like he did. You think like he did. Judith, you are your brother. You’re also your mother, and your father. You’re me, honey. You are a collection of everyone who has ever loved you. And there have been so many people who’ve loved you.” You thought back to when she was just a little baby, and then a toddler, and all the people that kept her safe. And you felt like the luckiest woman in the world to know this precious little girl. And that Josie would grow up with one hell of a big cousin. 

Judith smiled and wiped away a few fallen tears. “I like talking to you. You don’t hide the truth from me like mom does.”

“Your mom is just trying to protect you. But I’m your friend, and your auntie. I will tell you the truth about whatever you want to know, sweetheart.”

***

You got word that night from Daryl that he found Negan and that Alpha was dead, but wouldn’t be home until the morning. He’d spoken to you, Aaron, and Jerry about Alexandria and how they were abandoning the community to get to their rendezvous point. One of the medical towers at a local hospital. He wanted you all to meet him and them there. 

With Ezekiel, Yumiko, and Eugene gone searching for some outside community, Aaron and Jerry looked at you for answers. For a decision, even though there was only one real answer. But you decided to send Aaron and Alden to Alexandria anyway because you needed scouts. They left that night. And then you radioed Cyndie at Oceanside and told her where to meet you all.

You set out for the tower in the morning, leading the group of people. So many of your family were dead or gone. Rick and Glenn were dead. Michonne and Maggie were gone. Carol still hadn’t shown up, and you had no idea where she was, but Yumiko had told you she did get out. Just like Daryl, she needed space to clear her mind. 

You were the last woman standing. That group from the prison was long gone. It was you, Daryl, and Carol left. And now that the leadership role fell onto Daryl’s shoulders with Michonne gone, despite Alexandria’s council, the responsibility was still on his shoulders. Which meant they were on yours, too. 

You never would’ve imagined nine years ago that the survivors of Hilltop would be looking at you. And you never would’ve expected a baby swaddled on your chest, a seven-year-old holding your hand as you walked, and a nine-year-old walking ahead of you. 

No. You wouldn’t have ever imagined it. Back when it was you and your beloved Tora in a treehouse, fending for yourselves and hiding away from the world. You were blessed when you ran into Daryl, and you were thankful you didn’t shoot each other. 

So when you finally got to the tower, you couldn’t stop smiling when you saw your husband. Judith and RJ took off to hug him, and your smile widened as you approached him. 

“I missed you,” You said, hugging him. Josie was moving around in the swaddle, and you knew exactly what she wanted. You carefully pulled her out, handed her to her father, and laughed at the happy coos she was making.

The look on Daryl’s face as he stared at his daughter was breathtaking, and you couldn’t have been any happier looking at them together. You could see how wrapped around her finger he was and the love radiating off him when he looked at her. You knew he would do anything for her. 

After Daryl greeted his happy daughter with a kiss, he wrapped his free arm around your waist and led you into the building. 

***

Your day at the tower was stressful. With you and Daryl working as a team with Gabriel, you managed to get the survivors of all four communities in order. Rations and weapons were passed out, watch rotations were set up, and children were given caretakers. Everyone had a job to do, and everyone knew what the plan was. You had Luke go out and set up wagons of radios in case shit hit the fan. 

You fell asleep within seconds and slept through the whole night. 

The next day brought more of the same shit, but you and Gabriel dealt with it alone. Daryl had gone out to hopefully hunt something, and Carol finally showed up. She ended up outside the tower with Kelly, doing stuff for Luke. You didn’t pay much mind to it. You had too many things to worry about. 

But by early afternoon, something shifted in the air, and you got a bad feeling in your gut. That was when you got the signal that the horde was coming. 

“Daryl, you listen to me right now,” you said into the walkie. You could hear people calling your name from all over as they panicked. “The horde is approaching. Get back here, now!”

“On my way,” His voice cracked in the radio. 

“Do you have Judith? I can’t find her anywhere?” You asked. 

“I’m here, (Y/N).” Her soft voice made your knees go weak.

You breathed out an angry sigh. “Get home, now. Or you’re both grounded.”

People were running around like crazy, and you were pulled in every direction to help with everything. The evacuation of the building was in its first stage, and you were so busy that you didn’t realize how much time had passed. 

Finally, Daryl and Judith showed up, along with Carol and Kelly. They arrived just minutes before you and Gabriel discussed the game plan with the survivors--about the horses and speakers, the evacuation, everything. But with Luke’s stereo, people had to go through the horde. 

As you listened to the group discuss what needed to be done, you looked at Daryl. You knew exactly what he was thinking, so you weren’t surprised when he was the first to volunteer. It was just the kind of person he was. But it was basically a death sentence. And you weren’t okay with that. 

Other volunteers stepped up, and then the plan was acted on. You grabbed the bow you’d set down and walked over to Daryl. “Can I talk to you for a second, really quick?” You asked. 

He nodded, and you led him down the long hallway toward one of the old supply closets. You opened the door for him and shook your head. Before stepping in, he kissed your cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Daryl.” You said as you stepped in behind him. You lifted your bow before he could realize what was happening, and struck him hard against the back of his head. 

His body fell to the floor, unconscious, and you knelt beside him. “I can’t let you go out there. Not after everything you’ve done for me and Josie.” You whispered, making sure his body wasn’t in the wrong position so he wouldn’t be in any pain when he woke. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and caressed his face. “You’ll do a better job protecting her than I ever can on my own. I love you so much, Daryl Dixon. I’ll see you on the other side.”

You grabbed your bow and shut the door behind you. You quickly caught up to the volunteer party and found Kelly. “Change of plans. I’m going instead. Daryl’s going to stay with Gabriel.”

“Okay,” She said, “Don't look so stressed. We got this.”

***

Your bow seemed heavier after you hit Daryl with it, and you had walker blood and guts layering your skin and clothes. You hesitated by the door, looking at the shadowed hands on the glass. You heard someone yelling behind you, and you looked through the back door, watching a furious Daryl approaching the door. You’d never seen him that angry.

Your face softened at his expression, and you quickly put your hand over your heart as he slammed his hand against the door and then tried to pull it open. You couldn’t bare to look at his face, so you turned toward the other door and opened it before he had the chance to stop you. 

Walkers flooded in, pushing you back slightly. But you stayed steady and quiet until they started to pass you, and once everyone was under the radar, you pushed yourself through the doorway and into the horde. 

With this being the second time you walked with the horde, you managed well. Kelly followed closely behind you with the bag on her shoulders. One of her hands was wrapped around your forearm. You were gripping your machete tightly in your hand and watched as walkers roamed by. You were trying to steady your breath the best you could. 

You spotted the first whisperer, with a ten-inch knife headed straight for you. Your throat ran dry, and you twirled the machete in your hand. When you bring the whisperer down and go down with them, Kelly will have a chance to slip away. She would make it. You knew she would. 

Just as you were about to make your move, about to sacrifice yourself for the communities, an arrow embedded the whisperer in the shoulder. You recognized the arrow. It was Daryl’s. Even from up there, he was watching over you. 

You changed paths to avoid the walkers tearing the whisperer limb to limb, and you continued on your way. You could hear arrows flying overhead as Lydia did her job, and then they screamed as they were torn apart. 

Better them than you. 

The horde started tightening around you, and you could hear whispering in the groans. Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you pushed forward. You could see your way out by a bunch of wrecked cars. 

You repeated to yourself over and over again the names of the people you were doing this for. Daryl, Josie, Judith, RJ, Rosita, Coco. You would not fail them now. Not when you were so close. 

When you and Kelly broke through the end of the horde at the tree line, you immediately found Jerry, Magna, Luke, and Jules crouched by a fallen tree. It was just Carol and Beatrice you were waiting on now. These are the final pieces of equipment needed to get the stereos working. 

You could hear screaming but couldn’t tell who it was, but it was high-pitched. It didn’t sound like Carol, but it could’ve been anyone. Your fingers started shaking as you waited for another five minutes or so. 

Finally, you saw Carol walking toward you with Lydia, and you knew it was Beatrice who went down. 

It took another ten minutes for you to get away from the horde and get to the wagon with the stereo. You kept watch with Magna and Carol while Luke finished setting it up. Then the music started blasting from the speakers, so loud you’d jumped from the sudden noise intrusion. 

“We gotta get to the damn cliff,” You yelled over the music. “We move now.”

***

You walked alongside the wagon with your arrow nocked, nodding your head in tune to the song that had already played a dozen times. You’d walked at least two miles out, but you had much more to go before reaching the cliff. 

By now, the tower would be nearly evacuated, and you would breathe easier with each step away. Every minute or so, you would look back at the horde just to be sure. But it would be impossible not to hear the groans of so many walkers. Or ignore the stench. Yourself included. 

You knew all the words to the song by the time the sunset. 

“They’re coming!”

You spun around immediately, watching as whisperers advanced, with walkers as a human shield. You raised your bow, pulled the string, and let it fly. It pierced through the skull of the dead walker, and with the weight, the whisperer couldn’t keep it up. You had an arrow in their head before he could even look up. 

Your next arrow went through the walker's decayed face and took the whisperer down, too. 

Then whisperers started coming in from all sides, and you yelled for the wagon to speed up. You let arrow after arrow fly and only stopped when you heard the wheel from the wagon break. 

“Son of a bitch,” You cursed loudly. “Let’s go, now! We gotta get out of here. Leave the wagon, now!” You started screaming. 

Everyone was moving at once, and you grabbed your walkie when you managed to group back together in the woods. “Daryl, we lost the wagon. They’re headed back toward you.”

Then, you turned back to the group as they discussed what needed to be done. You rubbed your sweaty forehead in frustration. What would Daryl do? What would Daryl do? “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. We go back in. We take out each whisperer one by one.”

“How will we control the horde?” Magna asked. 

“Fuck,” You muttered. The horses were dead. 

“I will,” Lydia said. 

You glanced up at her and shook your head immediately. “No. We’ll figure something out.” You wouldn’t send a young girl to do that alone.

“If we do this, there’s nothing to push off the cliff. It’s suicide.” Luke said. 

“My mom taught me. I can do this. You have to let me.” Lydia said to you. 

You rubbed your jaw and looked around. They were all looking at you. “No. Let’s get the whisperers killed. We’ll figure it out after. I’m not letting you do this, Lydia. Besides, we need to move.”

The idea of bringing people you cared about back into the horde was a harrowing thought. But you’d all volunteered for this mission and knew the costs. If it meant the communities would be safe, you all had to do what you needed. 

So you led them all back into the horde and attacked the whisperers from behind. You wounded them; you didn’t kill. The walkers would do that for you. 

You’d lost track of how many whisperers you brought down silently through the horde. Each time you heard someone scream in pain, it was like music to your ears. But your steps faltered when you recognized Beta. Of course you did, he towered over everyone. And you’d never forget his mask, not after what he did to you. And how it was his face you looked at when he beat and tortured you. 

Your fingers gripped the handle of your machete tightly as you stared at his back. Something had caught his eye, and when you glanced toward it, you saw it was Lydia. You were moving in an instant. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you recognized Negan’s leather jacket, and you cursed under your breath. If Negan was here, he got out. And you knew Daryl was probably here, too.

He said something that caught Beta’s attention, and you quickened your pace as much as you could without drawing too much attention from the walkers around you.  But when you saw Beta charge toward Negan, you broke out into a run. 

With Beta distracted by trying to kill Negan, you had your opportunity. Your strides were long and quick as you approached him, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure coming from the other side. But you didn’t pause for a single moment. 

You could hear your machete cut into his leather trench coat as you slid it along his side. You only had a second to prepare for the monster to turn around, and you brought the knife up and embedded it through his jaw and into his head. 

An arm wrapped around your waist and you pulled out the machete and brought it to the throat of your attacker. But it was Daryl, and he was pulling you away from Beta as walkers started flooding in. 

You were breathing heavily as you fell against Daryl’s chest and looked back toward Beta. You had no idea how he was even standing. 

“Holy shit. You know who that asshole was?” Negan asked. 

“Yeah. Nobody.” 

“I never liked his music anyway,” You said bitterly. “We gotta get out of here.”

***

You didn’t like the idea of Lydia leading the horde to the cliff, but she was the only one who could. So, you swallowed your discomfort with it and walked with the group toward the meeting point. It was already daybreak at that point. 

“So, how mad at me are you?” You asked quietly to Daryl. He hadn’t said much to you on your walk. “Scale of one to ten?”

“‘Bout a hundred.” He grunted. 

“Worth it, though.”

Daryl looked at you with an enormous amount of anger. Nearly the same as when he was behind the glass door, and you were about to go into the horde. God, that felt like years ago. 

“Ya coulda been killed, (Y/N).”

You stopped walking, which made him stop. You glanced at your group, which kept moving forward. “Daryl Dixon, how many times have you gone off to fight someone or something? You left me to go find the damn horde in the first place. So don’t you dare be a hypocrite right now.”

You were expecting him to yell something right back at you, but instead, he grabbed you by the face and kissed you. It was slow and loving, and it felt perfect, like everything the two of you couldn’t say. So you fell into him and let him kiss you for as long as he needed it. 

“It’s over,” He said when he pulled away. “I ain’ gonna fight ‘bout it. Though ya left a real nasty bruise. Sometimes even I forget how strong ya are.”

You frowned slightly and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stand the idea of you going out there.” 

He nodded, “‘m sorry for leavin’ ya. Sorry for everythin’.”

“It’s over,” You repeated his words from before with a smile. “Let’s go get our babies and just go home.”

***

You were exhausted when you finally got to the meet-up point. You could see your people amongst the trees, mingling as the four surviving communities blended together. It was quite possibly one of the most beautiful things you’ve seen. After all the shit that happened, the way you all came back together. You all fought together. 

And then there were people you didn’t recognize. And Daryl looked just as confused as you did. 

“(Y/N).”

You froze at the voice, gripping Daryl’s hand tight. It was a ghost from your past, from nearly five years ago. A voice you never got the chance to say goodbye to. Only read it in a letter. 

Slowly turning around, there was Maggie. 

“Oh my God,” You laughed loudly and ran toward her. 

Her laugh was loud in your ears as you hugged her tightly. Her arms were around your shoulders, and the pressure of her hug was something you missed terribly. She smelt like herself, like she always did. 

“What are you… how did you… I’m still so mad at you for leaving!” You said, laughing as you cried. You stepped back so you could look at her, and she and Daryl shared a hug. 

“I missed you guys, too.” She laughed. You still couldn’t believe it. Your cousin was home after all these years. You couldn’t stop yourself from giving her another hug. “I missed you, too.” She whispered as you did. 

When you pulled away to look at her face, she was crying, too, and you gave her a third and final hug. 

Then you heard your name, turned around, and sighed with relief when you saw Jerry with Josie. You quickly ran over to him, taking your baby and holding her tight against you. She was making those cooing noises and looked unbelievably happy to see you. 

“My happy girl,” You mused, kissing the top of her fuzzy head. Her hair was looking more and more like yours every day. “Let’s go meet someone special.”

When you brought your daughter over to Maggie, her eyes were wide, and her smile even more so.

“Is she…?”

You nodded and handed Josie over to her aunt. “Her name is Josephine.”

“After your grandma?” Maggie asked, holding the baby close to her. The smile on your cousin’s face was contagious, and you wrapped your arm around Daryl’s waist and nodded. His arm went around your shoulders, and when you looked up at him, he had that same prideful look. The one of a doting father. 

“We call her Josie,” Daryl said. “She a little angel.”

“Oh, I can see that,” Maggie laughed and kissed her niece. “Oh, she’s perfect. I can already tell.”

Hands grabbed on your waist and you jumped, turning to see RJ. You smiled and lifted the heavy boy into your arms. Then another set of arms were on you. 

“You guys were gone forever,” Judith said.

You cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We’re home now.”

“Judith?”

Josie was handed to her father as Magie knelt down to look at Judith. You weren’t sure if Judith recognized her. She was only about four or so when Maggie left. But she surprised you both because, of course, Judith knew Maggie. And you wanted to cry when they embraced. 

“I can’t believe how big you’ve both gotten,” Maggie said as she stood up. RJ didn’t recognize her; of course, he didn’t, but the seven-year-old wasn’t shy, and he copied too much of what Judith did. 

As Judith and Maggie talked, Daryl nudged you and nodded toward Carol. “‘Mma go talk to her.” 

You gave a nod and urged him to do that. Maybe now that it was over, she could move on. You watched Daryl walk toward her, bouncing your laughing daughter with him. God, it was a beautiful sight. You wanted to get down on your knees and cry because of it. 

“This is why I didn’t tell you I was leaving,” Maggie said. 

You glanced at her, “Daryl and I weren’t together when you left.”

“I knew the two of you would work it out. You always did. I couldn’t take you away from him. I did that once. I wouldn't do it again.” 

You remembered your time on the road years ago with Abraham, Glenn, and Tara. Three people you still think about every day. Who would’ve thought it would just be you, Maggie, Rosita, and Eugene left. 

“Where’s Hershel?” You asked, looking around. “I wanna see my nephew.”

“He’s at a safehouse a little ways from here with the rest of my people. I’m gonna collect ‘em and bring them home.”

You smiled at your cousin and gave her another long hug. “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Mags.”

#daryl x y/n #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #daryl x reader #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

[angelsanarchy]

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 01 -> CH 02

"Having any second thoughts about staying in the house of horrors?" "I'm embracing the horrors that make up my life, remember?"

A year ago Jack was being checked into a mental health facility by his best friend. He didn't resist. He felt like he had lost his mind in the process of losing his parents, his childhood dog, his fiancee and the baby she was carrying, along with things that weren't as important like his home in California and his job for the magazine. He had officially lost everything and the only thing that was keeping him tethered to life was Shanda. She refused to let him off himself so the next best thing was to get him help.

Jack had received a few diagnoses during his facilitation. He learned some hard truths as well. His mother had perished in the car accident with his father, the "neighbor" Duncan was actually not real and the people who lived next door were all much older and retired without children.

Once he finally got around to reaching out to Cleo, she threatened him with a restraining order if he ever contacted her again. He knew he deserved that after letting her suffer from a miscarriage alone.

The doctors felt as though the repressed memories of his sexual abuse as a child would eventually resurface. They claimed it to be PTSD triggered by the sudden deaths of his parents. The mental break was classified as a psychotic disorder which made him roll his eyes.

"Oh just that?" He had criticized the doctors at how blase they had been when he explained he tried to murder the ghost of his mother in the place she had died in the car wreck. He knew he was psychotic, he just wanted to make sure he would be able to get cigarettes when they locked him up and threw away the key. However once he got an established therapist, a plethora of medications and a regularly monitored schedule, they felt he was ready to be released.

"Are you sure this is where you want to be? We can get a place here that's not this house or you can move in with Crystal and I?" Shanda had picked Jack up from the facility and he was determined to gut out the memories of his childhood home and start over. There was nothing left in California for him and currently this was the only place he could go that he knew and didn't have to pay for.

"I'll be fine. I'm sure you've already removed the sharp objects so what's the worse thing I could get into?" Jack joked darkly.

"I'm serious. I can stay with you if you want? Crystal will understand." Shanda pressed. Jack hadn't been alone since the day she dropped him at the facility. The idea of leaving him unsupervised in a place with so many horrible memories didn't sit right with her.

"I'm highly medicated and supervised by a licensed therapist almost daily. Fuck, they even have a care worker that stops by at least twice a week to make sure I'm not just sitting around drinking myself to death so I think your bases are covered, Shan." Jack knew the medications had terrible side effects but he can honestly say killing himself hadn't been on his mind in at least 4 months.

Shanda had visited him in the facility once a month and once he leveled out, his therapist had him write apology letters to all those he had hurt. The only person to reply was his old coworker who had sent a "Sorry about you getting fired after you lost your mind" text. Shanda got a letter but she slapped him in the forehead and said "I love you, you stupid fucker." He didn't expect Cleo to respond but he hoped that she was doing alright.

He had abandon all forms of social media during his rehabilitation and had zero desire to fire up any of those accounts now that he was out. There were moments where he wasn't even sure why they agreed to release him but he wanted to at least try and live as normal as possible.

Shanda pulled up to Jack's childhood home which she had made sure to run threw top to bottom almost as if she was child proofing it for Jack's brain to handle. He joked about the sharp objects but she in fact replace the cutlery with plastic ware just to be sure.

"Having any second thoughts about staying in the house of horrors?" Shanda asked pulling him from his thoughts as he stared at the house.

"I'm embracing the horrors that made up my life, remember?" Jack looked from the house towards his best friend. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into a hug inside of the car and feeling the bone crushing grip she had on him. He knew she was scared. He couldn't lie and say he wasn't either but he had to try. He couldn't live locked up forever.

They got out of the car and walked into the front doors. Things had been cleaned up. The window had been repaired and the floors looked polished.

"Jesus did you stress clean the whole house?" Jack teased tossing his bag on the floor.

"Fuck no, I called a service. I'm not Mary fucking Poppins, bitch." Shanda shook her head. Jack smiled at his friend and gave her a playful shove. He walked through the first floor of the house, into the kitchen and noticed the plastic ware.

"So who do I call when I need a can opener?" Jack tapped the top of some spaghetti-O's with a plastic knife.

"Try Ramen. It's in a package and you can tear it open with your teeth." Shanda had apparently gone grocery shopping too. The pantry as full of snacks and things for him to prepare that require minimal effort.

"Oh so you prefer I die of heart failure from the sodium instead of driving a corkscrew into my neck, I see." Jack tossed the package of Ramen on the counter. Jack's jokes about death or killing himself used to bring humor to their conversations but Shanda found it hard to hear him joke so freely after watching him go through his breakdown.

"Hey, I wouldn't be back here if I didn't think I could handle it. I promise to call you every day. I have my therapist on speed dial and I will talk to one of the neighbors about being my life alert or whatever if that will make you relax." Jack put his hands on Shanda's shoulders and rubbed hoping to ease her anxiety. She threw her arms around him to hug him once again. This time he hugged back with the same force.

"I love you, you stupid bitch. Don't you ever forget it." She said into is hair.

"I love you too, you whore." She had saved his life. It was time he started making something of it again so it would be worth it.

#Jack Thurlow #Jack x Y/N #One Shot Series #Culkin Cult #Rory Culkin #Jack Goes Home #Glass Houses #Y/n not mentioned in this chapter but this is just an intro for story layout #Y/n will appear in the third update #1/38

[resisteverything]

A list of useless/extraneous Hazbin characters and how they could have been fixed.

1. Vox. He confronts Alastor and Alastor wins, but this victory doesn’t change anything so this was nothing, and all it did was get sir pentius to join the hotel except pentius doesn’t change the plot either. He could have been an obstacle to the hotel with his control over the media, and once Alastor took care of him the hotel would start getting costumers and one of them would be pentius, who is Vox’s double agent. Then his prescience matters.

2. Pentius is nice but he didn’t do anything. He was just sort of around and then almost did something but died first. They could have made his sacrifice mean something, paying off the fact that he had that machine, like maybe he crashes it into Adam, getting himself blown up but wounding Adam in the process. And his spying for Vox could make something happen, like if there’s an angel head he could report it to Vox and he could do

3. Velvette reveals the head and almost gets Camilla to confess it was her, but then she doesn’t and this scene comes to nothing aside from transitioning to revealing information that could have been revealed any other way. She could have started her own hell army and instigated the war, or joined Charlie in the final fight. That would fit with her motivations. She could maybe hack into the phones in heaven and present the extermination which would make more sense than Adam doing it for no reason, and would plunge heaven into conflict if everyone knew. Or her role could have gone to a character like Alastor, or Vaggie, or angel, or Cherri, like I said.

4. Husk. He’s just there for some reason until episode four where he resolves the conflict between Charlie and Angel instead of having her learn anything, like he doesn’t do anything. Nifty being comic relief who kills Adam for a joke, that’s fine. But Husk doesn’t even do that much but has a major role that was stolen from the protagonist. He could have been cut entirely. That’s what I think. Cut him, he’s boring and I don’t want to see where his bit is going. It would also remove the part where Angel is sexually harassing him.

5. Mimzy. She shows up, has a useless subplot, reveals information we already learned in the pilot, and left. We didn’t need to know anything we learned from her and we did not need the loan shark scene, it just makes Charlie’s character weirder. Mimzy could have actually decided to stay at the hotel, giving it more than one person staying at it.

6. Cherri bomb. She is in Angels subplot in episode six and in the pilot but doesn’t affect the plot in either of those. She supported Angel in the addict video, she could have replaced Husk. That would maybe transition into her checking into the hotel, once again making the hotel actually have people in it like a hotel should. She also could have replaced Velvette in instigating war, especially since she has a sympathetic reason to given how Angel being in hell means he’s entrapped by the porn industry and can’t escape.

7. Camilla. She mentors Vaggie in a way that doesn’t matter later because she didn’t have any established fighting struggles that needed resolution, and reveals information we could have inferred any other way. She set the plot in motion by accident then left again, like her role could have been replaced with a stray falling object vaggie has to find, or by Adam deciding to be a petty dick and double up the murder for no reason. Vaggie could have been the one to kill the Angel and then they’d know what did it and wouldn’t need Camilla at all, and it would matter for real. Or Adam could have, once again, decided to double up on extermination for no reason.

8. Rosie. She brings out an army of sinners as though there aren’t plenty of powerful characters who would already want a war somewhere else, like that useless fucking board of overlords that could have been part of Charlie’s army, and gives Charlie relationship advice that leads her to make a choice that she could have also made for herself by maybe talking to Vaggie, thinking about it herself, or venting to her already plot important dad who should probably know about the impending doom coming for his people.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism

[reallyromealone]

The room halted as a tear stained Omega quickly went into the room and closed the door behind him, looking up to see the hellfire club stare back confused as his slightly bloodshot eyes locked with the clear leaders doe like brown ones.

"Shit.. sorry I thought this was an empty classroom" (name) choked out and shaking he exited the room, leaving the club confused "wait here" Eddie said softly as he got up and went after the crying Omega, it didn't feel right to leave him.

(Name) was sobbing in the bathroom when Eddie found him, the Omega shaking and hugging himself "are you...ok?" Eddie asked and felt a little dumb saying it, obviously be wasn't. Looking up (name) shook his head as the sound of billies voice rang through the balls and Eddie watched the crying man cover his mouth to keep quiet as billy passed, most likely had checked this bathroom when (name) went to the hellfire club by accident.

"Are you... Hiding from billy?" Eddie asked softly, kneeling before the Omega who let out a painful sob "h-he---" he could barely finish his sentence as he let out more sobs and Eddie barely processed his own movements as he pulled the Omega into his arms and began soothing him with soft touches and relaxing pharamones and after what felt like hours the Omega finally relaxed.

"You good now?"

"I'm sorry..."

"Why are you sorry?" Eddie was confused as the Omega fiddled with his shirt "I interrupted your game and bothered you..." Eddie was floored as he took in the others words, the Omega felt guilty over that?

"Don't be sorry, you shouldn't be sorry for something like this... Do you wanna talk about it?"

(Name) looked down before speaking "Billy and I were dating for a few months and today I learned he only began courting me to make my brother upset, not because he actually wanted me and he was... He was gonna have...relations and then dump me"

Eddie wanted to fucking destroy Billy but refrained doing so because he knew he would get fucking murdered, not to mention that he had a very fragile Omega in his arms currently.

At the moment this took precedence.

"You wanna hang at Hellfire club until it's safe to go? I can drive you home if you want"

(Name) considered his words before speaking "will I be a bother?"

"Absolutely not"

(Name) nodded as the two stood "I never got your name..."

"Oh! Eddie Munson at your service!" Then Eddie did a dramatic bow that made the angel giggle "may I know the fair maidens name?"

"(Name), (name) Harrington o' helpful knight" (name) giggled and played along with his antics, making Eddie smile widely and thought (name) was still puffy eyed and Shakey he was considerably happier than before.

When they returned to hellfire club, Eddie set him on a comfy chair beside his throne as the game continued and every so often he would glance at the Omega who looked facinated at the game before him and the voices Eddie would put on for NPCs.

When it was finally time to leave Eddie kept his word and drove the Omega home, the faint smell of weed in the van but (name) payed no mind "I was wondering... If you wanted to hang out sometime" (name) said softly and Eddie was shocked, not a lot of people activity wanted to hang out with him so he didn't really know how to reply "sorry... I was overstepping wasn't I?" (Name) said frantically as the Alpha stopped the car and pulled over "I would love to hang out with you sweetheart but I may taint any reputation you have"

"Well after today, that really doesn't matter to me anymore"

Eddie smiled and continued driving and didn't connect the last name as he saw Steve standing outside their house as they drove up "what's Stevie doing here?"

"Oh he's my brother " (name) said simply as if it were obvious and Eddie looked at him like he had six heads and then it all clicked "oh damn"

"Is...is that a problem?" (Name) became slightly more meek and Eddie gave him his sweet smile "not at all prince ~"

He watched as (name) blushed slightly at the nickname "well...see you tomorrow yeah?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow"

He wasn't expecting (name) to give him a gentle Peck on the cheek and thanked God it was to dark for the Omega to see his blush.

He watched as the Omega walked to his clearly worried brother and smiled and drove off.

#stranger things x male reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x male reader #eddie munson x reader #omega male reader #omegaverse

[theprofessionalpromptmaker]

Person A is a witch who was adopted into a human family and was unaware that they were anything other than a normal and magicless human, and eventually goes to study/work in animation. But when a strange case of copycat murders happen that are very similar to the hitman character in their college project, people start thinking Person A is getting inspiration from the horrible tragedies in the news. The truth that Person A is too afraid to admit is that they actually made their storyboards a few days before each news story mimicking their storyboards broke out. Person A fears the killer is someone who has access to their unfinished work, but even when they let no one see their sketchbooks, the murders keep happening. Person B is a supernatural being who works as a detective on the case, and found traces of magic at the scene and tracked it back to Person A, but can’t prove Person A’s fault. Person B’s only solution is to bring Person A in to learn how to harness their magic properly, so they can either find the murderer or stop the murders - if they’re happening from Person A’s creative process on accident.

#mod poss #creative writing #writing prompt #writing #prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #story prompt #creative writing prompt #ficinsp #alternate universe #plots and prompts #supernatural au #fantasy au #detective au #murder tw #witch au #artist au #art au

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hey can I asl for a Bg3 match up? :D

Gender:Male

Pronouns:He/him and they/them

Sexuality: Gay

Race: High elf

Class: he's multiclass Wizard and Bard

D&d alignment: Chaotic neutral

Appearance: Red-ish hair with some light "graying" its more caramelly but like graying anyways, he has heterochromia, his right eye is brown snd left one is light brown. He's dresses very eccentricly and likes wearing long robes with the main colors being dark blue and a magentay red and lots lots lots of jewelry, he's around 170cm or 5'7 ish

Personality: Confident, creative, definetly a problem solver, aloof from time to time, extremely emotional has not know a day of peace with how many emotions his tiny smooth brain can hold. They're wise but the intelligence department is lacking a little tiny winy bit, his brain only retains fun facts and obscure knowledge.

Likes: Cats, pigeons, plants, herbs, herbal tea, coffee, sweets and lots of em, owning books without reading them and obscure spells.

Dislikes: Crowds, loud people, shoes are the bane of his existence, spicy food, silver as a color, his own ears and paper that's thin enough to see through.

Extra fun facts: He has stage fright which is why he has to know how to do other types of magic too, he's befriended every cat he's met and the mf grins like the cat who got the cream all the time... even when he shouldn't even be smiling, he gets into trouble for that.

I hope I did that right :) Have a nice day/night and tha k you :D

I love how sweet all of you guys are in my Asks. I should be the one apologizing cause I have so many accidental spelling mistakes, lol.

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

Anon I love your character 10/10. Whether they are a representation of you or not, I love them! I match you with-------

Gale Dekarios

This ticking time bomb of a man (Literally, man is a bomb) loves your comedic sense and the fact he can relate to a true connoisseur of Magic. It's like the Weave made you two for one another.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Gale loves your shows when you perform; watching you use the Weave and your other talents impresses him greatly.

He has no problem helping you reconnect with the Weave if you struggle with a spell. (We all know the scene I am thinking of 0.0)

Gale enjoys learning your fun facts and feels like it connects him to you better. It also helps him keep up with what interests you.

Gale hesitates to start walking around shoelessly with you; however, when you two are in his tower, he doesn't mind humoring you.

Gale knew you were the one when Tara accepted you right away.

Correction: Gale knew you were the one when you and Tara ganged up on him and decided your new pastime was picking on him.

(I Wonder if it's just my dialogue scenes or everyone else's, but Gale also has an issue with smiling 24/7, even if there's something horrible going on. Like using runepowder to murder the whole Underdark on accident)

Gale loves to 'borrow' from your book collection to help you continue learning about the Weave.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You stood atop the ruined stage at the fairgrounds, decrepit since you guys got rid of the imposters. Your group decided to set up camp here while waiting out at the location of the Nether Brain. As you began practicing the magic show you used to perform before the parasite, a lone Wizard stood by on watch. Gale loved watching you enjoy yourself; nothing set his heart more alight than watching you learn and process things.

Conjuring up a seat, he continued watching as you cast a fireball, quickly switching to an iceblast and causing an explosion similar to a firework. As you continued step by step, you could feel someone's eyes on you. Becoming more meticulous with your casts, you started to lose connection to the Weave. Noticing this, Gale smiled and began to walk over to you. "My dear, what seems to be the matter?" You look to Gale and sigh, frustrated that you forgot such a basic routine due to stage fright. Gale shook his head then stood behind you, "Close your eyes love and follow Mystras guidance, let the Weave move you, forget any eyes on you just flow with the Weave."

You closed your eyes, noting Gale was moving around you now. As you started the basic incantation for a mage hand, you were pulled out of your trance by a swift peck on the cheek from the Wizard before you. Shooting your eyes open, you turn to him with a smug smirk. "Rule number one, don't become distracted, Rule number two, stop looking so handsome while you focus."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Tara and you were lounging about in the sun on the balcony of Waterdeep Tower. As you two were resting, a grumpy Gale appeared)

Gale: I woke up from my nap to find my lover and cat gone.

(Tara raises her head slightly, yawning)

Tara: Hmmm, it seems I am more critical to your elf than you are, Mr. Dekarios.

(Gale stands there in shock; before he can turn on his heel, he hears Y/N speak)

Y/N: On a scale of one to ten, Tara, how funny was his face? Be honest with me.

(Gale didn't even have to turn around to know you had a giant smile on your face)

#bg3 #bg3 x reader #baulders gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios x reader #bg3 gale #gale x tav #match up #x reader #head canon

[gashface]

AHHHH GUYS, YOU SCARED ME!

This weeks prompt, was created to see a different side of the models. Whether it be embracing their fears or learning about new phobias! This week we wanted to see the element of fear through the story but mainly the choice of edit, how the models display this fear.

Now onto the results!

Charline Morel by @cyazurai

Some say that it’s not the dark itself that people are afraid of, but what’s hiding in the dark. But not that’s not necessarily true for some with nyctophobia. To them, the dark itself is an entity worthy of fear. It’s suffocating; it’s lonely; if you were to be dying quietly in the dark, who would know? And who knows if the light will ever come back? In a place with no lights and no windows, the dark feels like it’s alive around you. Ready to slip its spidery fingers around your neck and down your throat; holding tight to you as the life slowly slips out with the last vestiges of light. Yes, that’s right. Darkness is not just an absence of light. If you listen carefully, you can hear it breathe. It’s just biding its time until your light is gone.

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 9/10

STORY: 9/10

EXECUTION: 7/10

STYLE: 8/10

Ember Arendse by @wolfrynn313

Ember: "For this week's prompt of Fear, I wanted to express not one, but two fears of mine. The first, is a fear of being used by somebody else and losing control of my own agency - like a puppet on string helpless to control my next move. I value my independence and agency very much, so the idea of losing it is a terrifying concept to me indeed. The second, is, well: people. Supernatural horror can be disturbing of course, but what really chills me are the people who can bring themselves to cause others harm - be it murder, abuse or assault. My look for the second concept is also based off an urban legend that I heard as a kid: Olive Spectre, a black widow known for murdering her husbands. lovers and even courting the grim reaper!"

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 8/10

STORY: 8/10

EXECUTION: 9/10

STYLE: 9/10

Parker Winston by @morgynemberisagenderfluiddaddy

Hemophobia is the fear of blood, Sanguivoriphobia is the fear of vampires. But I have a question; What the hell do you call a vampire with hemophobia? Better yet, what do you call a vampire that is so disgusted by blood that he's vegan? These are genuine questions that keep me up at night. When I was in high school, I had to work a blood drive for extra credit. I was supposed to log each bag of blood we got and take it to the truck. I dropped one of the crates, and the bags exploded like a bloody volcano. The rest of that's been pretty much blocked from my memory, but I'm willing to bet that's why I'm the way I am. As much as I hate blood and want to hurl at the sheer thought of it, these days, I don't have a lot of time to process it as much. Not with the trail of bodies I have chasing me. But hell, I feel like this isn't even the most contradictory thing about me.

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 9/10

STORY: 8/10

EXECUTION: 8/10

STYLE: 9/10

Dillion Carter by @mewo-ita

Idea: Scopophobia (The fear of being seen in public or stared at by others; partly inspired by Omori.) The fall was an accident, or at least that’s what he told himself. The blank stares pierced his bones with an icy stab and made his hands tremble. The past few years was spent hidden in his apartment with inescapable fear; the rugged man constantly recollecting what had happened in his teen years. A rebellious student in his class named Dillion who had continuously rejected his advances— he had “accidentally” pushed them down steep stairs; their neck broke on impact. The image burned into memory of lifeless eyes staring back at him as he fled. No one connected him to the scene so he was free, but whenever in public from then on, a gaze was stabbing daggers into his back. Every night, whenever he habitually looks out of the peephole to see if the torment is finally over, he can see Dillion scrutinizing him with no emotion. Just staring. Whenever he attempted to leave or confront them, his limbs shook and crumbled under him. He was pathetic. All he can see every second is eyes. Their eyes…

POINTS

ORIGINALITY: 8/10

STORY: 10/10

EXECUTION: 10/10

STYLE: 9/10

OKAY GUYS IF YOU KNOW ME, I LOVE HORROR OR ANYTHING THAT BRINGS FEAR~!~ SO THE EFFORT AND UNIQUE IDEAS YOU ALL TOOK FOR THIS WEEK I WAS SO IMPRESSED!

Once again, I want to thank you all for the dedication. The effort you all put in every week just makes me so proud, and also the fact this competition has encouraged me to be social too! I've loved talking to you guys and just seeing how creative you all are.

The next prompts will be the last!

NO HINT AS I'LL BE DIRECTLY POSTING THE PROMPT RIGHT AFTER THIS :))

Thanks guys x

- Buddy

#week6 #SHINE #week6prompt #ts4 #sims 4 #sim #sims4 #week 6

[smallnico]

19 por favor

this is a long one! i've put it under the cut.

19: Has your Dark Urge become particularly close to anyone romantically and/or platonically in their journey? If so, who, and what is the relationship like? If no, why not?

let me start by saying that esper is an astarion romance, but they became platonically close to all of their companions like it was their fucking job as soon as they started to be more comfortable with being vulnerable enough to love and connect with people. the only companion they never really connected with was halsin (and minthara, whose murder they were plotting from the moment she called their blood impure), but that wasn't for a lack of trying, just a very difficult-to-overcome aversion to the "we are all animals and a part of nature" paradigm he brought to the table. they still slept with him though (and broke off the romance immediately after)

so, to start, astarion. esper got close to astarion very quickly almost Because they could tell his attempts at seduction were insincere, and because he was the only person in the party who really Noticed and Understood the urge. esper is awful at self-talk and introspection, so being able to process what they were going through externally with astarion was a huge help to stabilizing them. relationship-wise, esper and astarion don't really consider themselves a Romance, but they're partners, they're learning to love themselves by loving each other, and they complement each other well. they take turns saying the most unhinged shit (astarion in the way he does, esper in the most deadpan stone-faced way possible by contrast) and making everyone else uncomfortable.

the other companions esper got closest to platonically are jaheira, lae'zel, and karlach:

esper didn't care for jaheira at first, but latched onto her after that one cutscene where she woke them up after a bhaalspawn dream and they had a real conversation. esper has a thing for people who try to kill them that they wouldn't be able to explain (but i can say that it's a dynamic that reminds them of family even if they don't remember, since they grew up in the underdark with all the chaos that entails, plus they like knowing that they have people around who can put them down if they lose control). knowing jaheira could and would help them work through the urges was huge for their dynamic. they've definitely called her mom by accident. they would not have gotten so attached to her if she weren't fundamentally a deadbeat mother. esper's got issues

lae'zel is one of the companions esper has slept with, but that's not why they're close. esper and lae'zel share that humourless pragmatism, that alienated feeling from the world around them, and enthusiasm for martial swordplay. they get each other! esper resolved to kill vlaakith the moment they realized she was using lae'zel and the only thing stopping them from joining her in the post-game crusade is competing priorities. they also find her journey from pawn to renegade h'sharlak extremely cathartic. also, yet another instance of someone trying to kill esper and that being the thing that wins them over.

karlach is one of esper's closest friends because of how hard they contrast each other. they appreciate how straightforward she is, and they take comfort in her presence in part because she's big and warm and strong, but the smell of the exhaust from her engine subconsciously reminds esper of another place where they once felt safe to escape to, gortash's workshops. they like that she finds strength in loving simple things and going apeshit, and they think based on that that they're allowed to do so as well. they're also both touchstarved as hell so one of esper's favourite places to hang out in camp is physically on top of karlach like a weighted blanket. if she asked if they wanted to hook up no strings attached they'd probably be down

esper is very protective of wyll Because they don't understand the way he thinks very much. they aren't altruistic by nature, and wyll's unyielding need to go out of his way to do good (even when doing amoral is more practical and strategic) gets on esper's nerves, in part because it makes them feel inadequate and judged, but they came to understand wyll a lot better after the dance scene. it was then that they realized he actually liked them, thought they were a good enough person, and that both of them were just sincerely not good at talking to people. there's a weird line wyll has that's triggered by the toll bridge into wyrm's rock, where if you blame the change in refugee policy on gortash, wyll says something like "well, we'll just have to drown the evildoers in their own blood", and it was so bizarre that i initially thought it was orin. but no. wyll just says that. i choose to interpret it as him trying to show support for esper's durgeisms by mirroring them. it was weird, but it made esper happy. he's even almost forgiven them for offering to kill his dad after they busted their asses to save him from the iron throne and he was still a dick about wyll's pact.

gale is a strange one for esper! the two of them are also pretty fond of each other, but not for any particular reason. they just like each other, i think. i headcanon that esper goes straight to gale anytime they have a question, just because he seems like he knows shit and they like to listen to him talk. he also helped them figure out how their own magic worked, something that meant a lot to esper's personal pride and sense of self-sufficiency. esper collects books and offloads them onto gale (and halsin) in lieu of conversation when they don't have anything to say. esper hates gods and does not understand gale's desire to become one whatsoever.

shadowheart and esper became friends through their mutual amnesia and goth half-elf isms. if you were to listen in on a conversation between the two of them you'd think they didn't like each other, but no, they just have a sibling-like bond based on mutual deadpan sarcasm and gallows humour. shadowheart is also the only one besides astarion who's allowed anywhere near esper's hair -- they bite anyone else who tries to brush it when it starts to get longer, and gods help the poor soul who tries to trim it. esper is a little disappointed that shadowheart jumped straight from shar to selûne, and thinks it's a shame that she isn't more willing to discover who she is on her own, but they don't blame her for being scared and wanting guidance. after all, they understand just as well as she does what it feels like to have no memories to guide or orient yourself with.

no real thoughts about minsc. he's jaheira's friend and he seems both nice and stupid. esper is leery of him for the same reason as they were leery of wyll to begin with, but with even more uncertainty of motive due to his general level of chaos, but as long as jaheira likes him that's good enough for esper.

#ask game #the askbox #durgeposting #esper

[roughentumble]

wrote a stiles+his dad reunion scene. it's been five long years for these poor suckers

“Dad.”

His father stands in the doorway, pale and drawn. He looks thinner than the last time Stiles saw him. “Stiles?”

“Uh. Yeah, it’s me. I… thought maybe we could… talk.” he says lamely.

“Talk?” His dad parrots back, mystified.

“Yyyyup. You and me, father and son, talkey-talkin’.” God, he hasn’t been this awkward in five years.

“… It’s you. You’re the emissary Scott’s been talking about.”

He smiles awkwardly. “That’s me.”

“…I think you’d better come inside.”

The door closes behind them.

———

His dad bypasses the beginning of the conversation by going straight to the corner and pouring himself a finger of whiskey. Stiles winces.

“So it’s… been a while.” Stiles tries.

The sheriff sets down his glass with such force that Stiles is afraid it might’ve cracked. “Five years. Five years, I sit at home wondering where my son is, if he’s missing or abducted or—“

‘Dead’ hangs unspoken in the room. Stiles sits down heavily on the couch. He wishes he had his own glass of whiskey for this. “I’m sorry. I… I guess should’ve let you know. That I was alright.”

“You think?” He asks, venom heavy in his voice, and Stiles throws his hands in the air.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to give me a good damn reason you disappeared off the face of the earth!” He says, whirling around to stare Stiles down.

“Maybe I was scared you were happier!” Stiles shout back, the words tripping out of him before he can stop them. “I… I thought… maybe you wouldn’t want me back. That you’d be happier if you could pretend I never existed.”

“That’s what you think of me?” He advances forward, sits himself down right on the coffee table so he can look Stiles in the eye as he asks, hard and angry and bitter, “That’s really how little you think of me? You think I’d want you dead?”

Stiles feels heat rushing to his face, doesn’t know if it’s anger or shame. “You told me to go, dad! You told me to get out!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I needed time to process my son having murdered someone.” He says, and the whole room goes still.

There it is again. It always comes back to this.

“Murderer. Of course that’s what they told you.” Stiles runs his hand through his hair, blinks away tears. “Dad, it was self defense. He was coming at me, and I pushed him, and he fell. It was an accident. That’s it. Then I get back to my friends, and they throw me out of the pack for being a murderer, and I come home, and you tell me I’m not who you thought I was. That it’s better if I leave. So I left.”

The sheriff’s whole face crumbles, and he swipes a hand down his face, absorbing the information. He sets his whiskey glass down heavy on the side table. The room is so damn quiet as he absorbs it, searches Stiles’ face as if trying to discern the truth. Fitting the puzzle pieces of what he knows together just like any good detective would. Then, finally, finally, “…I’m sorry, son. I should’ve listened to you that night.”

It’s like a dam breaks inside Stiles. It’s all he ever wanted to hear from his dad. He launches himself forward, crying into his father’s shoulder, and his father holds him tight, rocking him back and forth. “Oh kid. Oh, Stiles. Five years. Fives years.” He says, voice thick with grief and his own shed tears as he tucks his face into the top of Stiles’ head. He presses a kiss there, right at the crown, and Stiles feels all of twelve years old again.

“I’m sorry, dad, I’m sorry. I should’ve come and found you, I should’ve told you where I was.”

“I should’ve made you feel welcome to tell me, son.”

Stiles sniffles weakly. “Dad. God. Dad, I have to tell you… that was an accident. But I’ve… I’ve killed people since then.”

The sheriff goes stiff around Stiles, and he thinks this is it, I fucked it all up, this is how I learn he hates me still. “Were… were they accidents too?” His dad asks carefully.

“Some of them of them were self defense. But… some of them… they were bad people, dad. And I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t make them stop. They would’ve killed so many.” He shakes in his father’s arms, silently begs him to understand.

He’s silent. So silent. “I never wanted that for you. But I… I was too harsh on you, boy. Sometimes, being a cop means using your gun. Only ever as a last resort, but—“

“Only ever. I try everything else first. I never want to. God, I never want to.”

“…I forgive you, son.” His dad says, voice cracking. “For all of it. God forgive me, but I understand. I don’t hate you, son. All I want’s for you to come home.”

Stiles chokes on a sob, cradled in his father’s arms. They stay like that for a long time, rocking and crying, holding each other tight. Wordlessly, they fall apart together.

———————

Eventually, the crying comes to an end. They keep hugging, as if both afraid the other will vanish if they let go too soon. But time passes, and needs must, and as Stiles wipes away his tears, he says “i know it’s a lot for one day, but… there’s actually some people I want you to meet, dad. They’re waiting outside… they were sort of… backup, in case this. In case it didn’t go well.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

“Any friend of my son’s a friend of mine.” He says, and Stiles’ shoulders sag with relief.

They’re waiting for him right there, on the front steps. When he opens the door with a smile on his face, Jaskier jumps up to hug him tight. “Oh, I’m so glad it went well, darling.” He says, and Geralt reaches past him to squeeze Stiles’ shoulder.

“Guys.” Stiles says, serious, a touch nervous, as he steps inside to allow them in. “This is my dad. Dad, this is…”

“Hullo! We’re your son’s lovers.” Jaskier says, and Stiles says his name sharply and smacks him on the shoulder. “Ow! What? It’s true.”

Stiles sighs. “Look, dad, I know it’s weird. I know it’s a lot to take in all at once. But it’s true, I’m with both of them, and they make me happy. Really, really happy. They… they’re… they’re my pack.” He says, begging silently once more for his dad to just. Understand.

He looks the two of them over with a critical eye, up and down, then over to Stiles, then back at them again. “Ah, hell, son. I really don’t get it. I don’t think I could get it if I tried. But if they’re the ones who’ve been with you, making you happy and keeping you safe all this time, then who the hell am I to say otherwise?” He holds out his hand to the two of them, and Introduces himself. “Sheriff Stilinski. And if you ever hurt my boy, I’ll be coming for you.”

“Geralt of Rivia. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Geralt says, shaking his hand firmly.

“Jaskier the bard. Stiles is one third of my heart, and I’ll treat him as such.”

His dad shakes his head. “Geralt… Jaskier… Stiles… there isn’t one normal name in the bunch.”

“Where i’m from, Geralt is a commonplace name.” Geralt replies, and the sheriff snorts.

“Alright. I think everyone deserves a drink.” The sheriff says.

“And a movie marathon!” Stiles says enthusiastically. “I’ll even let you eat the buttery popcorn.”

His dad smiles. “Sounds perfect, kid.”

#witcher tag #ogc tag #i don't think it's my absolute best work but it has a few parts i actually like

[espionisms]

{ayça ayşin turan, 34, agender, they/she} We are so glad to see you safe, BOOKKEEPER (SPY) EMINE BULUT of ETHIOPIA (TURKEY)! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are AMICABLE and OBSERVANT enough to handle it. Just don’t let your PRIDE bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE EMOTIONALLY INVOLVED IN THE CONFLICTS.

𝙱𝙰𝚂𝙸𝙲𝚂 .

NAME / ALIAS: (Lady) Emine Bulut. BIRTH NAME: Nazan Candemir. AGE: 34 years old. OCCUPATION: Bookkeeper/archivist by day, spy by night. DATE OF BIRTH: March 29th. SIGN: Aries. GENDER / PRONOUNS: agender / they & she. ORIENTATION: bi from beginning to end. LANGUAGES: turkish, amharic (ethiopian), farsi, spanish, & is in the process of learning gaelic. she wants to be able to speak with everyone on their own terms, both for comfort & to be able to understand and be understood. POLITICAL LOYALTY: toying the line between turkish & ethiopian loyalty. devoted to queen malaika. FAMILY: mother & father ( both deceased ) ; sister ( presumed dead )

𝙷𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈 . ( tw implication of murder )

She was born in a small village in rural Turkey with nothing to her name nor any inheritance for a future partnership. She worked the fields, tended to the water & the livestock, wore her hair loose and had nothing for refinement. This lasted until her mother sent her abroad to receive a better education and better chances.

She has worked hard to erase Nazan Candemir from history, due to her current occupation & the dangers therein. It's not too difficult; there wasn't much to begin with. She doesn't resent her childhood; in fact, she treasures it & the memories that it brought for her, as well as how disciplined she is in her work.

She is incredibly emotional, empathetic to most even as she's attempting to mine them for information. She has always prided herself on being a fair and good listener but never imagined she'd be using this for espionage. This means she has a moral dilemma almost every time she does something — but for her queen's sake, she keeps it under wraps.

During her time abroad, her rural village was captured and her family killed when it was taken control of. In a sense, her love for her country has rotted & she feels as if it abandoned her; where were the defences during these uprisings? Now she's bound & determined to be that defence if it's the last thing she does, just perhaps not for Turkey. Not with her investment in Ethiopian politics, despite her efforts to remain detached. She doesn't want to be hurt again, but puts herself in harm's way.

She discovered her prowess for language by accident. The ability to speak to people she met in the streets in Turkish and be understood made her want to do that across more people. She never thought herself to be "book-smart" but then was taught to read by a patient tutor and never looked back. Now she notates everything, keeping these notes ( and secrets ) in books that she places into sewn places on her bodices. She brought them all with her. It's best to keep them on her person or in her immediate vicinity instead of risking them being left.

Still not afraid to get her hands dirty. Literally. Although a lot of her spying requires being subtle & conversational nuance, she's still enraptured by new things. The simple country person never has left them. Sometimes, she still longs for that life.

She became a bookkeeper to the tutor who taught her how to read. It began as a method to perfect her script. She has since turned that into a way to forge, mimic handwriting, and remember everything as much as possible. She keeps anything Queen Malaika tells her separate from her other books, in a locked & bound leather journal. She also will scribe lettres being dictated to her & so forth.

𝙱𝙾𝙽𝙳𝚂 .

Queen Malaika: will be filled out with plotting!

Potential connections: childhood friends who don't recognise each other, an ex-lover or two (royal or otherwise), fellow spies (whether on the same side or not), friendships that get tested, rivalries that also get tested, her missing sister showing up & getting involved, and anything else we can think of!

#emine bulut : about . #theopulent.intro

[bluiex]

WARNING! Reference to: Experiments on Children, brainwashing, murder and Self-sacrificing.

There might be a bunch of spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes because my brain needs to share this NOW! Like now, now. So um have fun!

-

Grian is a hero who is a lover to a villain Hotguy Scar and a Vigilante Mumbo. Both Mumbo and Grian do not know that Scar is the strongest villain in the city. Except for Scar, he knows that his lovers are a hero and vigilante. Both Mumbo and Scar know that Grian is a hero.

So one late December in a smokey street Grian ended up killing Hotguy with his power on accident, Mumbo was watching from behind a building and Xelqal saw kill Hotguy. Grian ended up learning he killed his lover in front of his other lover and it unfolds from there.

Mumbo is a Vigilante who wants to take down the watchers and their organization. Especially after learning what they did to some they children stole back in 1993-2015 and how their hero system works. Mumbo use to work for them as a hero but after learning all the messed-up things they did and to his lover Grian he left and became a Vigilante.

Faking his own death and creating and new identity, he has some opinions on the heroes it just matters on his judgment on the person and how he feels and thinks about them. Some hero’s he is good friends with some he hates, it's 50/50. He doesn’t kill unless it means he will die.

Grian is Brainwashed in some way he hates the watchers but can't get way from them, he is loyal to them in this sickening way. They are in his head all the time, he never has a moment of peace or safety not unless he is with Scar and Mumbo. He was one of the children that the watchers experimented on and is chained to them for life. The Watcher powers in Grian allow the watchers to invaded his mind and (sometime when he is weak) body.

He has hallucinations sometimes due to his watcher powers and the trauma he went through as a kid. He is a hero who will do what they need to do to take down a villain but never severely harm or kill any villains. The watchers hate this but he is their best child experiment, so they don’t say a lot. But will push him to do more harm.

Scar is a different child experiment, meant to be a back up plan if the watcher’s first experiment didn’t work out. (Plan B if the other when out of control, basically made to kill the first experiments) He is half Vex and Elf very powerful hybrids Scars magic can make Grians watcher powers weaken and less venomous to Grain's mind, meaning the watchers can’t invade his mind.

Grian and Scar were both stolen as kids. Scar is a villain who will do anything to take down the watchers, he hates them. He hates all heroes who willingly follow them and will kill them if he has to, he will try and talk the other experiments out of following the watchers but if they don’t listen after a good few tries he will kill them.

After Grian learns he killed his lover he goes into this episode of hallucination, Mumbo comes running over to see who Grian killed to see that it’s their lover Scar. Grian had promised both Mumbo and Scar that he wouldn’t kill and once he broke that promise he ended up killing one of his lovers. Mumbo can barely process anything the fact that their lover was one of the strongest villains and that now they died by Grians hands before he hears other people coming towards them and has to leave Grian alone.

After that Grian gets completely brainwashed by the watchers and has consistent hallucinations about Scar and killing him. He kills anyone he is told to and is mindless, barely acknowledging Mumbo and almost killing him, Grian only stopped when Mumbo was Crying out his real name.

Mumbo is full of grief and comes to the realization he has lost Grian too and decides to keep the city safe he has to kill Grian. He becomes colder, leaving his relationship with Grian and taking Scar's place as the strongest Villain. He works with Cub (who made Scars equipment) to take Grian and the Watchers.

They become close but Cub knows that Mumbo’s heart it still set on Grian and Scar. So he loves him silently, helping him with his new life mission. Cub is not a love sick foul and knows he will lose Mumbo to death. He is still serious and realistic Cub.  (I don’t know how to explain well)

There is no happy ending to this and Mumbo does kill Grian. Mumbo takes down the watchers so that’s a win, but sacrificing himself in the process. They all die at the end.

Cub is left to grieve and move on with his life. Helping more helpless villains who were just like Mumbo and Scar

-AAA anon, I’ve had a wonderful day and made this. I hope your day is going well! :D

AAAAAH SO GOOD. OH MY GOODNESS DUDE AAA- your ideas just *chefs kiss*

Grian losing his mind to the point the watchers are allowed to take control and make him do whatever they want.. Ough poor poor Mumbo

#bluie gets an ask poggers #long post

[nkatr84]

Only Murders in the Building : Season 3 Episodes 1 &2

Hey Arconiacs! We’re back! Episodes 1 and 2 of season 3 have dropped and whoo! What a rush!

First we’ve got to give a hand for Paul Rudd and Meryl Streep. Both are outstanding players this season. The audition scene was just magic. And Paul Rudd makes a jerk actor charming and likable. I mean…how? Btw I’ve learned my lesson with Bunny. I know Ben definitely died for a reason, but his rehearsal with Oliver and his confrontation with Charles show that he was a human being with feelings. He obviously has no clue how to process those feelings in a healthy way that doesn’t take it out on people but he wasn’t all bad.

That said I really don’t want Loretta to be the murderer! One they’re clearly setting up a little romance for her and Oliver and it’s so stinking CUTE!!! Two after season one with Jan there’s no way they’d repeat the love interest being the murderer.

I’m so happy Joy and Charles are still going strong. And the fact that Charles isn’t feeling the demanding schedule of 8 shows a week is telling that maybe he’s moved on from acting and finding a new path elsewhere.

Mable’s story is going to be interesting. And relatable. But I’m like, “girl…clearly your calling (that pays well anyway) is interior design because that apartment is gorgeous! Add in the occasional murder in the building with your boys and you’re good!”

And Oliver…oh Oliver. Between your new love interest, your health issues and now you want to make the show a musical? And you’re trying to solve a murder? Sweetie I love you but…no.

And oh yeah there’s a murder to solve. Little early to call it but right now my number one suspect is the brother. Just a feeling. Plus Ben dropped that line about how his career has provided for his family since he was eight. I think the murder may have been an accident after a fight. And that fake out death was not only a brilliant twist to throw us the audience off but I suspect that was a publicity stunt in universe. The “blood” on Ben’s clothes and face was still red. Bright red. Like fake blood. Time will tell Arconiacs.

And it’s freaking hilarious how they got the murder back in the building. This is why we need to support the writers and actors on strike people. Donate to entertainment community.org.

Until next week Arconiacs.

#omitb spoilers #tv thoughts #hulu streaming #hulu tv #hulu #only murders in the building