#[you can't just free others from their misery! who's gonna take their place?]

[nem0-nee]

Mayuu concept overblot reminds me of the babadook movie

Hsishs you have no idea how much this has a grip on me now- You, dawg, have such an astronomically sized brain?!? Thank you for letting me know 😭😭

Like MAN?! Now I want to showcase her OB in the form of a storybook

Sorry in advance if this is any way of unnerving ;v;

[RIP Silver you'll be missed]

A tale of one, a tale of many.

When a beloved friend turns into the enemy,

Feared of becoming nothing but a memory

Leads to a tale of a neverending tragedy;

Kairos— the perfect opportunity.

Prisoner of Time, won't you show us your mercy?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

[takami-takami]

Accidents.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. suggestive.

warnings— daddy kink. predator/prey undertones. keigo being a meanie.

You wish the ground would just swallow you whole before his smug look does.

"Don't let it get to your head! Keigo—" You squeak, covering your own face with one hand and pushing his away with the other. Your palm does nothing to quell the mischievous laughing fit that your boyfriend doesn't seem to have the courtesy nor self control to keep to himself.

Don't let it get to his head? His head couldn't be any bigger in this moment.

He seizes the opening to situate himself on top of you with ease, keeping you caged beneath him so he can bear witness to the full extent of your misery. Your hands lie helpless, locked under his hold and pinned above your head to leave you wide open. He wants nothing obstructing his view of your dreadfully desperate squirms.

He considers locking your legs in place beneath his, too. It wouldn't be difficult at all to overpower you, but the butterfly kicks behind his back that ruffle the sheets beneath are just too delicious to watch.

Your bedroom has become a locked box of your whimpers and flails, and he loves it. What he wouldn't give to cage you here and throw away the key.

"Keigo...? Sorry, dunno who that is." His eyes roll in time with his shoulders, while that wicked grin never falters.

"Could've sworn you were just calling me something else," he sings above you. He purses his lips like he just can't catch his thought. Bastard. You'd be screaming into your hands if you had access to them. "What was it you said... What was it..." he hums a devilish, giddy tune, turning to catch your eye.

"Care to remind me?"

"You're an asshole!"

"No, that's not quite what you called me."

You huff in response, opting to stare at the ceiling behind him. Anywhere but that stupid, god-awful, pretty face of his. Maybe if you try to pull your wrists free, he'd take pity on you and— nope, still not giving an inch of leeway.

He notices your weak attempt. Poor thing, he thinks. You don't actually think there's anywhere to run, do you? Your halfhearted flailing underneath him is cute though, he'll give you that. So cute. Almost as cute as your little slip-up that got you into this fucking mess.

This is your mess, you know. You did start it, after all, and who is Keigo if not a man who finishes the job? It'd be criminal to not keep this game going for as long as it'll take to satisfy his instinct to torment you.

He's not a sadist, he swears.

He just knows prey when he sees it.

"Kei', I didn't— can you please just let this go?" You finally look at him with those puppy dog eyes. In another circumstance, they would get him to do whatever you want; but for once, he decides to be selfish. He's just having too much fun.

"Why should I? Don't tell me you're embarassed," he posits, as if you aren't the picture of shame incarnate beneath him. "Nothin' to be embarassed about, doll." He closes the gap between you, nose barely brushing the line of your jaw before he dares to have a taste. "Plenty of people would jump at the oppurtunity to call me da—"

"Hawks!"

"Oooh, yet another name and you still won't repeat the one from earlier. Gonna hurt my feelings, baby." Raptor eyes zero in on the juncture of your neck. When you strain to turn your head away from him, you leave your jugular completely exposed. He sighs. You're fucking helpless. He supposes that's why he's the pro hero, and you're just the little hare captured betwixt his talons. 

With a finality settling in his gut, he latches on and sinks his canines into you. You go limp below with the hitch of a breath, kicks slowing to a halt.

"You know, I think I like this." When his hands release yours, he's sure your muscles won't even twitch. Frozen under his spell, you are the moth to his proverbial flame; the rabbit in his headlights.

"I think that name is already one of my favorites. You'll say it again for me, won't you? Tell me..."

"Who's your fucking daddy?"

[divinehedons]

a madness all-consuming.

Pairing: dark!raider!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Word Count: ~2k

Summary: There's a few rules that aid one's survival in a post-apocalyptic hellscape. Stealing from Joel Miller is, of course, the fool's road to hell. But you just couldn't resist it. Now you have to face the consequences.

Warnings: This is a dark fic, minors DO NOT interact! This fic contains explicit non-con, allusions to canon-typical violence, elements of torture (mostly psychological, slightly physical), explicit unprotected sex (wrap it up!), gun kink, hard dom!joel, angry sex, this version of Joel is a real meanie poopie head, biiiig legal age gap.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated; requests welcome!

You figured it would be easy. He wasn't in the prime of life, after all. He couldn't even hear properly out of one ear. If you were going to steal from anyone at the end of the world, you'll take all the advantage you can get. So when you heard the clear sound of a gun's safety clicking off in the dead of night, you swore there was never a time you turned around faster.

That's how he found you, clutching a looted bottle of whisky, eyes wide and trembling. Joel Miller was many things. You heard whispers of that quiet man who spoke with his eyes. You knew people who fled from him, even in their sleep. Never look him in the eye, kiddo.

Was he some modern Titan, you wondered once, with his Medusean gaze and Midas touch? Whatever it was, you had tried so hard not to run in with him. And yet, here you lay, right in the belly of the goddamned beast.

You never should've taken the gig for some crumbs to live off of.

"Put it down, little lady," he mutters gruffly, motioning with the barrel of his gun as your breath hitches, the words escaping your throat as you slowly allowed yourself to place the bottle back on the floor. "Atta girl. Now, we can be civilised, can't we? You'll tell me what you're doin' here, and I won't shoot your pretty little head off."

You had begun to stammer out some semblance of an explanation. I was starving. I hadn't eaten for days. I'm trying to be good-

The cool metal barrel stares you down as the gruff man presses it against your forehead, finally shushing your panicked cries as the free hand cups your cheek, rough hands belonging to the much taller man, somewhat attempting to soothe and relax.

"Use that pretty li'l mouth of yours, sugar, c'mon."

"Th-they told me they'd give me more rations if I g-got something for you," you said between shaky tremors. "I don't have anywhere else to go, sir, please-"

"Are you gonna start being more specific or do i have to get it out of you myself?"

Perhaps it was the sobs that escaped you. Perhaps it was the sheer panic in your eyes. Either way, Joel Miller immediately knew you weren't going to be as easy to talk to as he thought. He sighs, returning the pistol to his holster as his large hand takes you by the scruff of your shirt- a grimy little thing, really, stolen from one body or another- dragging you to the rickety dining table, slamming your rigid frame, face up and floundering just as he tethers each limb to each wooden leg, leaving you spread eagle, the perfect little victim.

You try to peer at him from the darkness, squinting through the warm yellow light overhead. You barely make out his figure, the soft sound of tools clinking as you try, once more, to beg.

Argumentum ad miseracordiam. An appeal of misery. You try to tell him, in broken fragments. "The other raiders said they'd give me food- oh, God, please! I haven't eaten in days and I was desperate!" A cry escapes you as he returns with a knife in hand, looking to you with a gaze that you only understood for what it was: of a man without morals, stumbling upon a mode of release.

He moves closer, and you can feel his breath on your cheek as that cool blade presses against your exposed throat. You cry, you scream, you thrash, even when the rope on your limbs dig deeper into your aching skin.

"Give me a name, sugar. Wouldn't want to hurt your pretty little neck," he threatens, just as you feel that blade cut against your skin when your breath hitches.

"I-" you try and think, try and remember, try to shake off that looming cloud over her brain. The blade again, slicing as warm rivulets of blood stain his fingers. The answer never came faster. "I don't know!"

He stabs the stained knife right beside your left ear, so close you swore you could've heard your own hair tethered to the same table as you cry out from sheer panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- Please, I won't come near you ever again, just... please don't kill me-"

"So fuckin' mouthy," Joel finally says, glaring up at you with those same relentless eyes, retrieving his gun from his holster, pressing it against your lips as you sob harder. "Open your fucking mouth before I shoot your brains out, sugar." You obey, the idea of death so foreign and terrifying that it shocks you to consciousness. Making you all the more aware of the hell that comes next.

Slowly, Joel fucks the barrel of his loaded pistol, in and out for a few times as he watches you struggle against the sheer size of it. Finally, he presses it deep, despite your gagging and whining. "That's it, baby. Keep that pistol warm for me." All at once, you feel the heat in your cheeks, the tears wetting your skin, spread wide open and weak. "The only time you should be talking to me is if you're gonna tell me who sent you, peach. Got it?"

You try your best to nod, horrified of how much further he could go. You whine when he tears your shirt, uses his knife to cut open your pants. Within minutes, he has you how he wants you: bare, trembling, and completely at his mercy. It is then that he takes the gun away, chuckling darkly at the string of spit that clings against the muzzle.

"Ready to give me a name, darlin'?"

You sob, and try again. Like a fool, you think. "I didn't know, I swear!"

You feel his fingers take one pert nipple, pinching so hard you squealed and swore you almost saw stars. You look down, seeing the reddish-purple marks of his fingers. "Such a waste, baby. We could be having fun by now, but you're so fuckin' stubborn."

There's something else. You feel the slightly warm sensation of metal drifting against your stomach, lower and lower until he reaches that sweet cunt of yours. He watches, mesmerized by that strip of flesh that had never looked more delectable. And his beloved pistol is there, finding your needy little clit with ease.

"Tell me, sugar. Or else, you're fuckin' my gun."

You looked to see his expression to see if he was joking. If this was his sick form of pleasure, watching the fear enter your gaze. Only when you look, his gaze only carries burning clarity.

You feel white-hot shame cover you, and you hear yourself saying the words. "There was a blond!"

He pauses, just enough to see if what you were saying had any relevance. "He said he... he said it would be funny if I succeeded-"

"Interesting," interjected your captor, pausing momentary as he positions his gun right at your entrance. "Interesting, but not good enough."

With that, you feel something fucking up into you as you screamed, thrashing against your bindings as he chuckles, first sinking his pistol's entire barrel, only to recede and fuck back into you at a much more brutal pace.

The agony was indescribable. The pistol helped with nothing but your spit, your body, at first resisting, only to keen when the metal brushes against somewhere so deep within you. Wetness secretes from your very essence and makes it easier. You fought again, knowing just how much sickening pleasure it would bring him to know his gun had gotten you wet.

But he knew. Of course he knew.

He knew from the way your body tenses, builds up, locks itself. He knew from the miniscule way your hips chased his motions, the way your lip trembles, your eyes closing, only for your orbs to roll back. Fight as you must, your body told him you wanted this too. And that was enough to make him smirk.

You hear it, despite your whimpers. The distinct click of the safety turning off as he focuses on your needy little cunt. "That's it, baby. That's fucking it-" He smirks up at you as you shake your head, begging him to stop as he continues.

"Fuck no, baby." He leans closer, free hand holding your face and making you look at him. "I want you to look me in the eye as you cum."

That was all you needed. Just as he says it, your hips tense, your cunt clenches, your scream echoing throughout the house as your orgasm takes over you so wholly and completely, your spend making it so much easier to fuck you through your peak.

It was utter humiliation, seeing Joel pull away the pistol for it to be soaking, the evidence of your arousal dripping directly from the end of the muzzle. You whine, shivering where you lay as your eyes water.

"I-it was a raider too," you try again, wracking your brain throughout the darkness in an attempt to remember.

That seemed to peak his interest, looking up to you again, hands reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He smirks again, as if pushing you to say more in the chance that he'd stop. You start panting, squirming, struggling once more as you tried to remember anything else.

"Please, I've given you everything!"

That made him chuckle. Smug, collected, cool. "I don't know 'bout that, darlin'," he says in that significant southern drawl, leaning down to spit directly on your fucked out cunt, climbing up on that same dining room table, taking his cockhead to spread his own spend. His last kindness. Carefully, smilingly, biding his time. Like the monster that plays with his meal, as if the fear would make you taste as sweet.

You will always remember those brief moments. Where everything falls silent and all you can hear is the soft pleads, your wit's end hanging on to the desperation in your voice. You remember those dark eyes glinting in the darkness, as if he's still waiting, eternally watching, just how far you'll be able to beg for your dignity.

Perhaps that was why he bit down on your shoulder when you screamed as his massive girth spread you wide open in one solid thrust. From then on, he doesn't wait anymore. He fucks you through your tears, your screams, your fingernails digging into the hard wood of the table as he takes his pleasure, methodic, repeatedly, without satisfaction in sight. When he fucks you, he does so in a way that seemed to claim, carving a home for himself within your walls. A home for his spend when, some time after, he kisses your mouth needingly as his hips stutter and fuck his orgasm right against the very entrance of your womb.

He stays there, collecting himself as you wince, sniffle, turn your face away out of embarrassment, humiliation, feeling that finally, despite surviving another night in your post-apocalyptic reality, that you lost something anyway. That you weren't human anymore, anyway. Just a ghost inhabiting the body that was once your own.

"Blond, you said?" he asked, brows furrowed as he pulls himself out of you, tucking himself back into his pants. When you nod, you hear him depart into that darkness.

The peace felt jarring, silent, without a threat to the warm evening. But as soon as it started, so soon too, did it break.

All you hear is the clatter a few rooms away from you. Incomprehensible yelling from Joel and someone else, and, soon too, the rhythmic sound of pounding, grunting, the second voice falling silent.

Joel takes you again when he returns, turning you over and gripping you with sticky fingers. You shut your eyes and cry. You do not want to ask. You do not want to know.

But when he forces two fingers past your lips, the heavy taste of blood settle on your tongue. It tells you enough.

Was it madness if you felt relieved?

[nicawlette]

🎼✨🖤⚡

SONG ASSOCIATIONS » ACCEPTING

🎼 A song that reminds me of my muse’s vibes

attention — newjeans ( this remix especially )

ever since i heard this remix i've been looking for any excuse to say that it makes me think of nicolette in every conceivable way. it's very cunt and very her.

미묘 — yezi

the vibes are don't care, didn't ask + i'm better than you. i love the arrogance and superiority of it all, and the fact that it has such an upbeat but also sexy vibe to it. ❛ even if i mumble you can hear me so clearly, i'm the best at making you mad ❜ it's very nicolette, even the singer's mannerisms and style.

✨ A theme song for my muse

GOOD ENEMY — PVRIS

i think this song really encapsulates nicolette's self-destructive nature and self-loathing. it's both in a metaphorical sense, like a statement on how she views herself, but also the literal sense of her blood powers, which require physical harm to be used. ❛ i hold the knife by the blade, 'cause I know how to take the pain ❜ like the mistreatment she endured as a child, this is another kind of pain she's grown accustomed to, enough to not even give it a second thought, even if it hurts. ❛ I don't want peace, I would rather bleed, all the misery loves company, and I can't break free ❜ things like dying alone and being filled with regret but without a cure are stated very bluntly in the song too, as if indisputable and accepted fact. but there's also a kind of pride in it, almost like bragging. ❛ i love a good enemy, and baby, it's me ❜ embracing the chaos even while it brings you suffering.

🖤 A song for our muses’ ship

INVU — taeyeon

ummmmm this song makes me scream cry and throw up over wangyico. i have listened to it so many times doing replies it's sickening. the themes about loving someone you're not supposed to or who you know will eventually leave. ❛ falling in love, to you i'm just an option. you and i were different from the beginning ❜. but even if you know something is only gonna end badly, you can't help how you feel. ❛ even if i push you away, i can't beat you. even i abandon myself and lose myself more ❜ ❛ it hurts but i can't stop it, so when you leave, please make it easy ❜ hey. what if i died?

ISLAND — youha

ON A HAPPIER NOTE i love this song for them too. the lyrics are so tender and romantic, about being someone's safe place. being the person they can be their truest self with. ❛ take me to a place where there's only you and only me, sometimes. I'm not afraid, everything is a paradise that began between you and me ❜ if that sentiment isn't the very foundation of nicolette and wang yi's bond then i don't know what is!!! they are the 1 person the other can be fully real and open in front of without any fear of shame or rejection!!! they are each other's island!!!

⚡ A song that my muse would listen to

HEAT — tove lo , BRAND NEW BITCH — COBRAH

nicolette especially like loud, cunty music that she can dance to in a club

[wordsbymae]

Mae's Yandere Thought of The Week 18+

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After months of hiding away from the end of the world with your neighbour - now friend- you are heartbroken when he demands a reward for the hard work of looking after you

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Pairing: Male oc x female! reader

18+

MINORS DNI

tw: female reader, betrayal, the male character is a dick, implied smut, just generally not nice stuff, discussion of sex and sa. discussion of sex work in a bad light

notes: Original drabble is here, this is just a follow-through. Also I tried to add more dialogue then i usually do

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"I'm only asking for one night." He huffed "It's not like I'm asking you to be my wife"

You stared at him in disbelief. Betrayal ate away at your skin.

"How does that make any of this better?" you snarked, eyebrows narrowing in annoyance. Of course, you had to go and trust some pathetic loser.

"C'mon! It's the least you could do. You do fuck all around here anyway. I just want a little incentive that's all" he said as if it was a normal and done thing to demand sex from your neighbour-turned-survival buddy.

"I do fuck all? I tend the garden! I sew our clothes! I cook our meals!! I fix all the shit you mess up!" you growled standing to full height from your place on your bed.

"That's not real work sweetheart. Who hunts? who goes for days trying to scavage for parts? Who puts his life on the line every single day while you sit here like Snow fucking White's cottagecore fever dream? Who has killed for you? Who protects you from all the other men who would be more than happy to tie you down and fuck you like the whore you are" he scoffed

"Don't call me that! I'm not a whore, you don't get to just call me that to belittle me! And I shouldn't have to pay you back for the things you freely do for me, if I had known you wanted something for it I would never, never have gone with you. You've been manipulating me from the start!" you shouted, trying desperately to hold back tears.

"Sweetheart, listen to me. You should've known I never would do those things for you without some sort of payment. It's the way the world worked for thousands of years. You are naive to think anything else!"

It wasn't till now that you realised that he was a lost cause, that this was something he's been waiting for since he knocked on your day those terrifying first few days. You had given him your trust, your friendship and he had thrown it all in your face.

"Don't look at me like that sweetheart. It doesn't have to be like this. You think I want you mad at me? You think I wanna have to chuck you out if you say no?"

"you wouldn't" you whispered, face twisted in fear.

"Well, I can't just keep providing for you and get nothing in return! You're chewing away at supplies sweetheart. And no matter how tasty your cooking is, I can't justify keeping you around for free"

"But.. but I tend to the garden.. I-I fix our clothes. I do do things" you were on the edge of misery, tears licking at your eyelashes waiting to be released.

"Don't be so emotional. A dog could do all that and more...at least then I could have a hunting partner," he grumbled.

"You really don't care about me...do you?" you sniffed, a few tears falling down.

"Ah! C'mon, don't cry! You know how much I hate it when you cry" he said, disgust littering his voice.

"Look, sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. It's either me, a man you trust-" you practically growled at him "trusted, or who knows how many dirty, filthy, grubby men pawing away at you. Cause that's what's gonna happen if you say no. I'm gonna have to kick you out and your gonna have to whore yourself out to anyone with food, water or shelter who would take you. Or, worst case scenario, some sick fuck is gonna take one look at you and decide he would like to see you gagged and bound in his bed, getting fucked by him day in and day out. "

You stared at him in disgust. But he was right, the world was a dangerous place for women when it wasn't a dystopian wasteland.

"So what's it gonna be?"

[fangirlwriting-stories]

They Say You Can't Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Chapter Three:

They didn’t stop much after that, and by the time someone was going to start looking for Remus, they’d driven through a few states without much incident.

They were driving towards a rainstorm right now, and Remus had already told Roman he wanted to stop, to get out of the car and dance around in the rain for a while before they kept going.  Roman had pulled some towels out of the trunk and put them on the seats so they wouldn’t get everything soaking wet, meaning when they got into the downpour area of the storm, Roman pulled off at the next exit and into a gas station parking lot, and the two of them climbed out and ran around like little kids.

Remus danced, and laughed, and turned his face to the sky and screamed.  The gas station attendant had at one point come out to see if they were alright, but Roman had waved them off and the two of them kept running around.  They stayed there until the sky lightened, and the rain had mostly stopped, but not enough to prevent the faint rainbow that made an appearance and that the two of them got way too many pictures of.

They got back in the car absolutely soaked to the bone, and Remus was probably going to have a cold tomorrow but he could not give less of a shit, the world felt bright and free and worth it for the first time in ages.

And then Roman’s phone rang.

Both he and Roman exchanged a dreaded look.  They’d known this was coming.

Roman picked up the phone, checked the caller ID, and then nodded to Remus before answering and putting it on speaker.

“Hi,” he said, and nothing else.

“Have you lost your mind?” came their father’s angry voice through the phone.  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“Yes,” Roman said, and nothing else.

“Roman,” said their father.  “You are going to turn that car around right now young man, and you are going to bring your brother back here this instant.  You cannot just kidnap someone who—”

“Kidnap?” Remus snapped, despite himself.  “I’m sorry, did you miss the fact that this is all I’ve wanted since you stuck me in that place without giving me any say in the matter?  Do you not remember the fighting, or crying, or begging?”

Their father got quiet for a moment.  “Remus,” he said eventually.  “I understand that your life can be hard sometimes, but we’re just trying to help you.  We’re worried about you.”

“I didn’t need help!” Remus screamed, grabbing the phone from Roman, who let him take it and kept driving.  “I told you that over, and over, and over again!  I told you I didn’t need help, Roman told you I didn’t need help, I was fine!”

“Your soulmark—”

“Is a worthless piece of shit!” Remus screamed.  “If I meet my soulmate, I’ll fucking punch them in the face!”

“Remus!” came their mother’s voice, who apparently was in on this fun action too.  “How can you say that, they’re your soulmate!”

“Who apparently has the worst fucking timing in the history of timing!  I don’t want them!  I don’t want anyone who brings my life that much misery!  And what do you know, that includes you two!”

“Remus,” their mother said weakly.  “Please, we just wanted—”

“I know what you wanted,” Remus said, changing his tone so it was closer to cold than angry.  “I understand what you wanted.  But you never talked to me.  You never asked what I wanted.  And what I wanted was a normal fucking life.  I wanted to go to school with Roman and make friends together and have fun and be allowed to be happy, which I was.  Because I didn’t fucking want to die.”

Neither of their parents said anything this time.

“Roman and I made a deal,” he said.  “We said each other’s soulmarks, so we’re each other’s soulmates now.  We also kind of want to give this whole happiness thing a shot where no one’s actively trying to make it impossible.  So we’re gonna head off and figure out what that looks like.  If you love us at all, stay out of it.”

Remus hung up and tossed the phone into the backseat.

“You okay?” Roman asked quietly.

“Peachy.  You?”

“Not really,” Roman said.

Remus looked out the window.  “Me neither,” he said quietly.

“I’m gonna pull off and get gas before they shut down the credit cards,” Roman said.  “We might be done after this tank runs out.”

Remus nods.  “Okay.  You alright not heading for a city?”

Roman nodded.  “Yeah.  As long as I get to head to New York one day and perform on Broadway, I’m good living wherever for now.”

“You’re too good for Broadway,” Remus said with a smile at him.

“That’s kind of impossible, Remus.”

“You’re going to invent being too good for Broadway.”

“Remus,” Roman said with a laugh, shaking his head.

“The world is going to go up in flames the first time you act onstage.”

“I did act onstage for the first time already, it was a middle school production.”

“Yeah, that’s right.  And the town already couldn’t handle it.  See, we had to leave, you were so good.”

Roman laughed again, and they kept driving.

The phone in the back seat didn’t ring again.

…

The car broke down in a relatively small town in northern Arizona, and while Roman went to ask someone passing if there was a tow truck company they could call, Remus climbed out and stared at the horizon.  He could see so much of it out here.  There weren’t any trees, which was probably an issue in the summertime, but it was fall so it was cool, and Remus spread his arms and let the wind rush over him.

Roman walked back over to Remus while already on the phone with a towing company, and an hour later their car was in a shop and they were heading to get a hotel room with the cards their parents surprisingly hadn’t shut off yet.

Even if they didn’t ever shut them off, Remus wanted an alternative way of supporting himself eventually, but seeing as it was going to be a while before he understood the outside world well enough to get a job, for now they got a hotel room with one of the credit cards and ordered pizza.  Fuck, it had been so long since Remus had eaten pizza.  It had been a special occasion food that almost never came around in the mental hospital.

Roman had just gotten regular pepperoni, but Remus was still almost shaking with excitement by the time it got there.  Roman thankfully didn’t tease him, instead just grinned at him as he set the box down and let Remus pick the first slice.

Remus took a bite and nearly moaned at the taste.  “I am never,” he said through the mouthful, “ever eating cafeteria food again.”

Roman laughed.  “I don’t think we’re gonna have the money for that, Re.”

“Never. Again.”

“Alright, whatever you say,” Roman said with a grin, taking a bite of his own pizza.

Remus ate definitely way too much for someone used to mental hospital food, and then collapsed back on the bed with a contented sigh.

“I’m never getting up again,” he sighed, letting his eyes slip shut in relaxation.

“That’s gonna make it hard to go to the bathroom,” Roman said.

“Don’t make toilet jokes if you don’t want me to take it in a grosser direction.”

“…Nevermind I take it back.”

“Mm-hmm, that’s what I thought,” Remus mumbled, just before he fell asleep.

…

Roman was the world’s worst snorer, which Remus had apparently forgotten through all those years of not sleeping in the same room as him.  He woke up multiple times throughout the night to hear Roman snoring on the other side of the room.  The first two times he threw a pillow over and managed to get him to shut up by hitting him on the head, but the third time he woke up he just laid there, staring at the ceiling, feeling some kind of weird mixture of annoyed and fond and nostalgic.  Apparently he’d missed Roman’s loud-as-fuck snoring waking him up in the middle of the night.  Screw his soulmark, if anything that was a sign of mental illness.

Remus laughed a little to himself, which ended with a sniff as tears welled in his eyes again, which he was sick of.  He didn’t want to cry anymore.  That was supposed to have been left behind in the stupid mental hospital.

He guessed he didn’t mind too much though.  The crying back there had been hopeless and achy and a usually failed attempt at making things feel less miserable.  It had felt like the worst feeling in the world.  Whereas now, even though he was crying over something as stupid as Roman’s snoring, it felt closer to cathartic.  Because this time it wasn’t going away.  And he’d get to have more experiences like that.

And that was far from the worst feeling in the world.

...

Chapter Four

[kainereee]

Joseph's 4th Character Day Letter - Initial Thoughts

Joseph's letter was leaked and I actually can't be normal about him, so I'm putting my initial take on it here! If you don't want to be spoiled just quite yet, please feel free to scroll on. I'll probably update this as well later if I find any bits of analysis from other people i find interesting or amend. Overall this isn't gonna be clean by any means but God here we go

First of all the photograph is noted to be yellowed so we could assume that what Joseph is describing here was written a while before he disappeared. It can also be due to sun exposure, but considering he spent all his time in the basement I'm more inclined to believe this was just discoloured because of old age

First thing's first he really has just gone absolutely insane. He's already been implied in his deductions to be suffering chronic Mercury poisoning and as a result mad hatter's syndrome ( see the deduction about shaking hands, the notes about him suddenly becoming a recluse and more prone to mood swings ), but here he's blatantly admitting to just inhaling the fumes

When he's referring to his "eternal kingdom" he's talking about all the people he's captured in his photographs. His eternal kingdom is the photo world and its his most prized possession because he believes it is a world without pain, and therefore something others should be grateful to be a part of, to live their best moments blissfully and never have to worry about the cruelty of the passage of time.

What he's doing here is essentially hallucinating and imagining he's enjoying that world with those people, including Claude, whom he created this world originally got

It talks about one person remaining and I'm inclined to believe that was Eliot for now. I can't think of anyone else, but it was Eliot who had the most profound impact on him so much in his diaries he remembers the way he tried to comfort him and turn back.

Obviously, as seen from his letter, it is much too late for that now. He realises that the process of capturing souls isn't reversible, but he actually doesn't seem to mind

Now my bff gave me help with this one. I think the "opportunity" he's talking about here to complete this sacred ritual of his is an invitation to the manor. The hunters intentions at the manor are a bit more vague, but usually with rituals some sort of sacrifice is needed, and what better place to collect sacrifices than a place where death games are held?

It would also explain Joseph's actual appearance in game. His once skin implies to us that the way we see Joseph now isn't how he used to look. He used to wear his hair freely, dress a lot more loosely, rather than the blue coat and gold ribbon. He is dressed as Claude — his coping mechanism essentially and probably a way for him to cope with the survivors guilt he has, and in some strange way live for Claude who was not able to. Though this could also be linked to his insane body dysmorphia and inability to recognise his face in the mirror anymore

Overall this letter is insanely good. Joseph here sounds sinister as shit. Any chance he had of turning back is gone, and his ambition and arrogance has driven him into madness. This guy literally says "All obstructors will be archived" — in other words nobody will get in his way, but all will be put away safely. Maybe as some sick sort of trophy thing, but it really is scary how he's talking here

He is so set on his beliefs. There's not a chance anyone can convince him otherwise. His perseverance is both scary and amazing if you think about it. This guy, out of his despair, misery, and arrogance, has broken the laws of reality. He can freeze time, he can take souls — it's amazing, if not terrifying, both his sheer will and how far he's willing to go.

Joseph's relationship with Claude is beyond morality, and he will do what it takes to see him again.

[dismalzelenka]

I didn't know how to articulate my thoughts the first time I saw this post come around, but these additions nailed it for me. Like I think I get what OP is getting at, sometimes you read a fic and go "hmm, that was not a pleasant experience" and sometimes it can be tempting to try and head that off at the pass, but the phrase "good enough" is such a trap.

for example: I've read fics with very tenuous grips on grammar that live rent free in my head forever because the plot was SUPERB. some people can't look past the grammatical issues, some can, and both are valid. And giving things I wouldn't normally read a chance has led to me stumbling on my favorite fics of all time. Like, I typically don't vibe with second person POV, but if the summary gets me, I'll click it anyway and give it a skim, and it led me to not one but TWO of my favorite fics of all time. I'd rather get halfway through a fic and go hmmm I gave this a chance but I don't think I'm invested enough to continue.

The other thing I wanted to address though as someone who writes pretty much all lengths of fic, is that kudos to hits ratio is also extremely unreliable (for many other reasons but here is one that's purely numbers based because I like math and I really take issue with the idea that this is 'basic math' too) because multichapter fics rack up a massive hits count but can only be kudosed once per person. If five people read a fic that has 70 chapters and hit each page once and all kudos, you'll get five kudos and 350 hits. Vs if that fic had a single chapter, you'd have five kudos and five hits. Numerically, that's 0.014 vs 1, and that's with the same readership and kudos. It's just numbers, and they really don't tell you anything at all about "quality" (which is, in and of itself very subjective) or how many other people liked it. Even if you were using that ratio as a way to measure how many people read it and walked vs how many people read it and kudosed, your math is STILL gonna be off because you're using the wrong numbers in the first place. And that isn't even accounting for rereads. Let's say out of those 5 people in the first example, three people reread the thing cover to cover. Now you have 5 kudos to 560 hits, which is a minuscule 0.009! But that means you had all five people read all 70 chapters, and three of those five people read that fic all the way through again.

It's so easy to get caught up in the stats. And this is coming from me, who LOVES looking at the numbers! For me, it's fascinating to see which ones fluctuate the most. (Visible bookmarks to total bookmarks ratio is the funniest to me, as someone who occasionally posts very weird smut 😂). But stats CANNOT be used as a metric for how good a piece of fiction is. Even if good were an objective label, which is patently false, there are still just too many variables for it to be even remotely reliable. You can't use them to gauge how good someone else's writing is, and you definitely can't use them to gauge how good your own writing is.

Tldr: don't math your fanfic unless you're looking for silly trivia like how much larger the total to visible bookmarks is for weird smut. It won't get you anything but misery.

Another AO3 thing I’m curious about, how do yall decide if something is good enough to read? Usually I follow a rule of 1 kudos for every 10 hits. One because it’s easy math and two it’s yet to fail me. Thoughts? Do you just go for it and pray it’s good?

[naalbinder]

phoebe bridgers // elliott smith parallels

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BEfu6YZ7XbdHFZBXthIpN?si=6bf8fc460eba4d33

E - Riot Coming - “Sat down in jail with this friend of mine/Who'd never close both his eyes/But one was shut all the time/To cover the thing he was scared of”

E - Stupidity Tries “To sail across the sea of trash”

E - Going nowhere - “The old records are sitting on the floor/The ones I can’t put on anymore”

E - Clementine - “Anything to pass the time/And keep that song out of your mind”

P - Smoke Signals - “One of your eyes is always half-shut/Something happened when you were a kid” - “burning trash out on the beach” - “You said that song'll creep you out until you're dead”

E - Miss Misery - (music videos on the same street)

E - Easy way out - “While I watch you making mistakes/I wish you luck I really do” “I heard you found another audience to bore”

E - Looking Over My Shoulder - “Another sick rock ‘n’ roller acting like a dick”

E - Placeholder - “I'm the person you'll never need/The biggest loser on sixteenth street” - “Just like my favourite song/Some pretty words that didn't last that long”

P - Motion Sickness - “I'll be glad that I made it out/And sorry that it all went down like it did” “You said when you met me, you were bored” - “Hey, why do you sing with an English accent?/I guess it's too late to change it now”

E - Some Song - “Help me kill my time cause I'll never be fine”

P - Funeral - “Jesus Christ i'm so blue all the time/And that's just how i feel/Always have and i always will ”

E - Bled White - “Happy and sad come in quick succession/I’m never going to become what you became”

P - Demi Moore - “I got a good feeling/It doesn't happen very often”

E - St Ides Heaven - “With an open container from 7/11”

E - A Fond Farewell - “A fond farewell to a friend”

P - Scott Street - “With an open heart, open container” - “Anyway, don’t be a stranger / don’t be a stranger”

E - Last Call - “And I think I’m all done, you can switch me off safely/While i’m lying here for sleep to overtake me”

E - Roman Candle - “I’m a roman candle/My head is full of flames ”

P - Killer - “But when I’m sick and tired/And when my mind is barely there/When a machine keeps me alive/And I’m losing all my hair/I hope you kiss my rotten head/And pull the plug” - “Tame the fire in you”

E - Georgia Georgia

P - Georgia - “Georgia, Georgia, I love your son”

E - Twilight - “That you are already somebody’s baby”

E - See you later - “Made out of a night train”

E - King’s Crossing - “Instruments shine on a silver tray”

P - Chelsea - “You are somebody’s baby” - “For a chemical imbalance/You sure know how to ride a train” - “With a needle on a tray”

E - Christian Brothers - “No bad dream fucker's gonna boss me around/Christian brothers gonna take him down”

P - Would you rather - “Quarantined in a bad dream/He's half the man and you're twice as tall”

E - Son of Sam - “Son of Sam, son of a doctors love a nurses touch/Acting under orders from above”

P - You Missed My Heart - “A feeling of relief came over my soul/I couldn't take it any longer, and I lost control”

E - Bye - (instrumental)

E - New Monkey (Instrumental)

P - DVD Menu - (instrumental)

E - Coming up roses - “And you're coming up roses everywhere you go/Red roses follow”

E - Rose Parade - “Said, Won't you follow me down to the Rose Parade?”

P - Garden Song “They're gluing roses on a flatbed/You should see it, I mean thousands”

E - Condor Ave - “I don’t know what to do with your clothes or your letters”

E - Baby Britain - “Fights problems with bigger problems/Sees the ocean fall and rise/Counts the waves that somehow didn’t hit her/Water pouring from her eyes/Alcoholic and very bitter”

E - Say Yes - “I'm in love with the world/Through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after”

E - Seen How Things Are Hard - “You just didn't care/You were off getting drunk instead”

E - The Biggest Lie - "Oh, I just told the biggest lie/ I just told the biggest lie/The biggest lie"

P - Kyoto - “And you wrote me a letter/But I don't have to read it” - “I wanted to see the world/Then I flew over the ocean/And I changed my mind” - “I wanted to see the world/Through your eyes until it happened/Then I changed my mind” - “I'm gonna kill you/If you don't beat me to it” - "Guess I lied/I'm a liar/Who lies/'Cause I'm a liar"

E - Memory Lane - “Your little house on memory lane ”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Angel in the snow/all crushed out on the way you are”

E - Last Call - “And I wanted her to tell me that she would never wake me”

E - New Monkey - “For the millions of fans ignoring the bands”

E - Waltz #2 - “I'm never gonna know you now/But I'm gonna love you anyhow”

E - Amity - “I'm a neon sign and I stay open all the time”

P - Punisher - “The house where you lived with Snow White” - “But never not sweet to the trust funds and punishers” - “What if I told you/I feel like I know you?/But we never met” - “The drugstores are open all night/The only real reason I moved to the east side”

E - Some Song - “Yeah it's halloween tonight and every night”

E - Pitseleh - “I got a joke I've been dying to tell you/A silent kid is looking down the barrel/To make the noise that I kept so quiet”

P - Halloween - “Baby, it's Halloween” - “I hate living by the hospital/The sirens go all night/I used to joke that if they woke you up/Somebody better be dying”

E - Shooting Star - “So bad, so far/You made me sad/Shooting star/You're distant and cold/And a sight to behold/Everybody just sighs”

E - Satellite - “When they call it a lover's moon, the satellite/'Cause it acts just like lovers do, the satellite/A burned-out world you know/Staying up all night/The satellite”

E - Everything Reminds Me of Her - “Why are you staring into outer space, crying?/Just because you came across it and lost it”

P - Chinese Satellite - “Took a tour to see the stars/But they weren't out tonight/So I wished hard on a Chinese satellite” - “Sometimes, when I can't sleep/It's just a matter of time before I'm hearing things” b- “Instead, I look at the sky and I feel nothing/You know I hate to be alone/I want to be wrong”

E - Coast to Coast - “Still you're keeping me around/'Til I finally drag us both down (Gonna drag us both down)”

E - Little one - “The moonlight tonight/Seems to belong to me” - “One more/Little one, I love you”

E - Coming up Roses - “The moon is a sickle cell/It'll kill you in time” “While the moon does its division/You're buried below”

E - Everything Means Nothing to Me - “At attention, looking backward in a pool of water/Wishes with a blue songbird on his shoulder/Who keeps singing over everything”

E - Pretty Mary K (Other Version) - “oh Mary K, I can see your face/down there in the waves, painted and erased/but I know it's just a reflection of the moon”

P - Moon song - (52) “You asked to walk me home/But I had to carry you” - (53) “And if I could give you the moon/I would give you the moon” - (54) “You are sick and you're married/And you might be dying” - (55/56) “And you pushed me in/And now my feet can't touch the bottom of you” “But you're holding me like water in your hands/When you saw the dead little bird”

E - New Disaster - “Everybody is the same in this long no-win game/Where every new blood/Gets time to become resigned” - “Until everyone knows that your smile is just a ghost/The ghost of your smile was seen on a body in the park”

P - Savior Complex - “Baby, you're a vampire/You want blood and I promised” - “All the bad dreams that you hide/Show me yours, I'll show you mine”

E - Oh well, Ok - “If you get a feeling next time you see me/Do me a favor and let me know/Cause it's hard to tell, it's hard to say 'oh well, Ok'”

E - Last Call - “You're a tongueless talker/You don't care what you say”

E - Angel in the Snow - “Only a cold still life/ that fell down here to lay beside you”

P - ICU - (58) “But I feel something when I see you now/I feel something when I see you” - (59) “I hate your mom/I hate it when she opens her mouth/It's amazing to me/How much you can say/When you don't know what you're talking about” - “laying down on the lawn” “if you’re a work of art/I’m standing too close/I can see the brush strokes”

E - Happiness / The Gondola Man - “What I used to be/Will pass away and then you'll see/That all I want now/Is happiness for you and me”

E - Whatever (Folk Song in C) - “Whatever you're doing now would probably suit me fine/If you're all done, like you said you'd be/What are you doing hanging out with me?”

E - Big Ballad of Nothing - “You can do what you want to whenever you want to/You can do what you want to there's no one to stop you”

P - Graceland too - “Said she knows she lived through it to get to this moment” - “Whatever she wants (Whatever you want)”

E - Bottle up and Explode “Bottle up and go/I can make it outside”

E - A Distorted Reality is Now a Necessity to be Free - “God knows why my country don't give a fuck” - “Shine on me baby, because it's raining in my heart”

E - Alphabet Town - “Alphabet City is haunted”

P - I Know The End - “There's no place like my room” - “To some America First rap country song” “Driving out into the sun/Let the ultraviolet cover me up”- “I'll find a new place to be from/A haunted house with a picket fence”

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ A FUTURE COP ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: hi i hope ur having the greatest week on the planet , can i request where reader is younger than hank and she tells him shes pregnant and telling him with some fluff

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

You have lost the count of how many minutes you've been sitting in the locker room, in silence. Your head is loud enough right now. Hank has left the police station already, and you're waiting the time accorded before doing the same and driving your way to his house. Almost one year and you keep staying there ten minutes more than him, to not make anyone suspect about your relationship. But you aren't sure if you're ready to go.

The fear of losing Hank for what you have to tell him is consuming you, like a big fire reducing your bones to ashes. It's painful, for describing it somehow. The pressure within your chest is going to kill you, suddenly breaking into an anguish crying, resting your back against the wall and curling your legs to your torso. The two of you haven't talked about starting a family. The loss of Justin still being an open wound, bleeding a little bit every day. How are you supposed to tell him that you're pregnant?

“(Y/N)?”

Antonio's voice races your heart, peeking his head out through the lockers. He sounds worried. He looks worried, walking slowly towards you without profering any sharp move. Kneeling next to you, not sure about what he can do, the detective holds your hand to caress the back of them with his thumb; thinking that this gesture can help you to relax. But the sob continues stuck in your throat and the tears roam your cheek like a torrential and furious racing river.

Sitting down by your side, Antonio places an arm over your shoulders, urging you to rest your head on his. He doesn't know what to say. And even if he wanted to say something, his vocal cords fail when your phone dings with a notification and he sees the screen illuminating over the floor. Hank. “Voight?” He thinks raising up an eyebrow, in a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Where are you? Something jumped off?”

Grabbing your phone and blocking it to keep it inside your pocket, you turn at the man. Your lips are trembling. You're not sure if you can talk, but you need to rip it off from your chest. You don't want to lose Hank, at this point, not even your work matters.

“Ant—Antonio… I am… pregnant”.

Shaking his head slightly, his eyes widened surprised. His forefinger points at the floor for a moment, to the position of your phone a second ago, asking without words if Hank is the father. You nod pressing your lips. He's in shock. You can see in his eyes, trying to find the correct sentence to say. Congratulations? Are you kidding me? Voight, seriously?

“We… started to date… a year and a half ago and… hm… made it official almost a ye—year ago”.

“Who knows it?”

“Only you. No one else. And I'm terrified, be—because… I was there when he lost Justin and… shit, we've always taken all the care, but… this happened”. Biting your bottom lip, as the tears keep filling up your eyes, you try to not cry anymore. “I don't know… how to tell him. I don't know if he wants this. I don't want to lose him, Antonio”.

“Hey, listen now. You're not gonna lose him, okay?” Turning his body at you and adopting your same position, he hits your shoulder briefly with his fist. “I've an idea. Write him and tell him that you're on your way and meet me in the hall”.

Nodding, he shows you a soft smile before standing up to leave the locker room. Cleaning your cheeks with the back of your hands, you do exactly what he has told you. After writing to your boyfriend and picking up your things, you walk out of the place to wait downstairs. Not a minute after, Antonio comes from behind the main desk saying his goodbye to Platt, before following you to the outside.

Offering you the bag he's carrying in his right hand, keeping the other in a pocket, you take it with curiosity.

“This department, his career, is his life. This is a good way to tell him”.

Grabbing the piece of clothing inside it, you read the emblem of Chicago P.D. before noticing the small size of the shirt.

“We usually give these shirts to the kids who come to see the station”.

Yes. That's the better idea. Your lips curve up in a tender grin of gratitude. You can't help but hug him, without caring who can be watching you.

“C'mon, go to his house and give it to him”.

“Thank you, Antonio… I don't… I don't know what to say”.

“You don't have to. Tell me tomorrow how it has goin'”.

In silence, you nod after placing a kiss on his cheek, keeping back the grey t-shirt inside the bag to go find your car in the private parking.

As always, the road is somewhat empty, reaching Hank's neighborhood in a sight. You can see the lights turned on inside, through the windows, and a free place to park your SUV behind his. Taking your time to leave your car there, you step out having a deep breath trying to calm yourself and your nerves. In your head dance a lot of possible ways about how he will react, and every one of them scares you like never.

Putting your eyes on the bag, you find the needed encouragement to come into his house. Leaving your backpack at the entrance, you lead your steps to the back garden, finding Hank sitting on a wooden chair, leaning forward and shaking his knees nervously. You haven't come this ‘late’ before. But as soon as you sit by his side, placing the bag over the dinner table, he feels less agitated.

Resting his back against his chair, tangling his hands over his abdomen, he can't help but feel curiosity about the content of it and the worrying installed on your face.

“What kind of hell are you into, hm?”

Rubbing the line of his jaw with his thumb, he intertwines his hands again waiting for a response. Maybe we need to talk aren't the words you want to choose, but they're the ones that escape from your throat. Watching how his face hardens, you gulp before licking your bottom lip.

“I don't know how it happened. It's not like… I planned it”.

“Don't beat around the bush and be clear with me”. Hank gesticulates with his forefinger, as he always does when he's losing his nerves. “That's why you have been acting distant, right? If you don't want to continue, just tell me”.

He hisses the last three words, hiding the misery in his tone of voice, leaning forward to you. And that really hurts you, to think that he believes you don't love him anymore. That he may think that his life is not compatible with yours. But that's bullshit. You would make them both fit at any cost, if you would have to.

“What? No, no, no! I'm not going to leave you, Hank. I don't want to”.

“Then, what is this about?”

You can't help but close your eyes and take a deep, deep, deep breath until you feel your lungs about to explode. Expelling the air through your nostrils, you decide to give him the bag instead of continuing screwing up the situation by using the wrong words. Frowning, he slides his hand inside it to take off the shirt of small size. Putting it between his fingers and in front of his hands, Hank raises an eyebrow without understanding what that shirt means.

“You stole it?”

“Technically… It wasn't me, but… Antonio”.

“Antonio stole a shirt and gave it to you, because he doesn't know how to return it?”

Moving your lips in silence, trying to say something, you can't believe he's really this fucking dumb. Shrugging he keeps it back inside the bag, pressing his lips.

“I will do it tomo—”.

“To be a detective, you're too stupid, Henry”. The laugh fills up the garden for a moment, starting to feel less scared than five minutes ago. “Hold the shirt again and put that brain of yours to work”.

He grunts tired of your games, doing what you just told him. Placing it stretched over the table, your boyfriend seems thoughtful rubbing his chin. Looking at you sideways, he shakes his head not getting what you want to tell him, turning towards you clapping his hands.

“I hate riddles. Spit it of a damn time, sweetheart”.

“I'm pregnant”.

Hank doesn't move a single inch of his body, as if he hadn't listened to you. His brown eyes are glued on yours. He doesn't even blink, looking at you as if he's studying your face to make sure himself that it's not a macabre joke. That you aren't kidding. That you're telling him the truth. When he kisses his lips, still remaining silence, you feel at the edge.

“Listen, I was scared of telling you. Not only because it means that people should know we are together, but because I don't know how you feel about it. But I swear for my badge, if you don't say anything in ten seconds, I'm gonna punch you in the face. And believe me, I have had a horrible day, Hank. Got too much rage accumulated in my hands”.

“I don't know what to say”. He whispers while you finish your threat.

Barely breathing, you nod, licking your incisors, putting your gaze away somewhere in the garden. It wasn't the response you wanted to hear, but it was the one you were waiting for. Being sure that he's going to end your relationship, but at least taking care of your baby, the tears fill up your eyes, reddening them again.

Cleaning a furtive one running down your left cheek, you get up from your seat about to leave the porch to come into the house, grab your things and go to your apartment. The only thing you were afraid of since you met him is now destroying you slowly. But Hank doesn't let you pass him away, gently gripping your forearm to make you take a step back and sit on his lap.

“I'm sorry…” You sob covering your face with both hands, not being able to look at him.

“Why?”

“I just… I don't wanna lose you. I've never felt happier in my… fucking life, before meeting you. I'm my best version since we're together. I lo—I love you with all my heart, I swear it…”

“Is this because of Justin?”

Your cry suddenly stops, using the sleeves of your jacket to clean your face, raising it towards him. It's been a long time since you talked about his son for the last time, keeping the mourning for himself.

“I saw you, Hank. You were devastated… Your wound is still bleeding and it's okay. It's normal, I understand it. I will never tell you to not cry for him. I didn't want you to… feel like I'm trying to cover this hole in your heart, just because the only thing I want is you to be happy. I didn't wa—”.

“Justin died, that's a fact. I miss him every day of my life. I should have been a better father for him. Maybe he would be alive now, maybe that night wouldn't have ever happened. But that doesn't mean I don't want this”. He points at the grey t-shirt, giving you some hope. “There's no one who cares more about me than you do. I've imagined my life with you thousands of times. How it would be to have a family together. Do the right thing, because it's never too late to change. And as you said so, you made me a better man too. I want it, (Y/N). I want this life with you. I want this kid. And I want you”.

You pout at him, feeling much better knowing that everything is clear. Placing a hand on the back of your neck, he pushes you closer to catch your lips with his to transmit you all the happiness and the tenderness he has inside his soul, after giving him this second chance in life.

“We will talk with Crowley and Platt tomorrow, okay with that?” You nod in response. “So… Antonio knows, uh?”

“Yeah, he… found me crying in the locker room and saw your message on my phone. It was his idea”.

“He had a good one”. Hank assures while chuckling, urging to rest your head against his chest. “I will give him a biscuit tomorrow, you know, for being a smart dog”.

“He wasn't in Narcotics for anything…”

[ah-yes-paris]

beatles harmonies that cured my depression.

It is important that i discuss this. Well, not really important I just really wanted to share. This is in no particular order either it's just the ones that come to the top of my head lol. Feel free to reblog and share your own 😎

1. The "Woahoooah AHHHHH" from When I Get Home.

Not even words can describe the battery power that starts coursing through my veins when I hear this harmony. I cant even,....LIKE HELLO??? i have never heard such a blessing... Such a well-fitting triplet of voices singing a vowel thats made me feel like i can run 10 miles straight. They aren't real. The Beatles, of course. To this day I don't understand how this harmony exists in this universe. My ears melt everytime. One of my favorites, in case you couldn't tell.

2. The obvious.. "yeah yeah yeah YEAHH" from She Loves You :)

LET ME TELL YOU. oh my god let me tell yo u .. Way back when, when I was a new fan... Good lord. I was literally ascending. ASCENDING. i felt every inch of my body start to lift off the ground. Im sure im not the only one who's experienced this. I remember thinking 'how the wiggle wubble do 3 men sound so GOOD TOGETHER' IT DOES NOT ADD UP PEOPLE THE BEATLES HAVE TO BE SOME SORT OF ROBOTIC BOY BAND GROWN IN A LAB THIS ISNT POSSIBLE how do we live on the same dimensional plane that this harmony lives on..

3. "The magical mystery tour, is coming to take you away, Coming to take you away!" from Magical Mystery Tour.

...

guys. Guys you dont understand. This one line, adds, YEARS. LITERAL YEARS TO MY LIFE SPAN. At this point I am fully immortal. The "coming to take you awayyy" makes my heart POUND. i love this song so much... And this line especially... It makes me go insane. Basically the beatles are manic melody genuises that have successfully spread one of the biggest diseases in musical history. Personally, I think this line was a clear example of why.

4. "Last night I said these words to my girl", "Please pleaase me, oh yeah, like i please you...", "...With you! Oh yeah, why do you make me blue" from Please Please Me.

do i even have to say anything. Well, i dont but i will for the sake of the post. There is so much. So much. About this song that I. I cant even,,. I would choose this song over SO MANY BEATLES SONGS DUDE. not that its cause i think its better than all the others but it just holds such a special place in my heart. Its the only song thats Ever made me feel some intense wave of nostalgia for a decade i wasnt even born in. Its one of the songs that continue to make me question the beatles existance. How could something like this ever come to reality. My brain has never been so pleased in its life.

5. "Carve your number on my wall and maybe you will get a call from me" from If I Needed Someone.

The way that this song was added into my Liked playlist SO QUICKLY...... God. I love george. Hes my favorite after all. Rubber Soul as a whole makes me feel warm inside but this song and this one line just hits so much more intensely for some reason... Their voices just flow insanely well and I just DONT UNDERSTAND HOW. its like an angel choir making its way through the clouds as you see the gate to heaven start to appear. Wonderful song and mind-blowing harmony... The beat is so good too and i just explode.

6. The "ahhhhh Ahhhhh AHhhhh *inhale* AHHHhhhh AHHHHH *inhale* AHHHHHH" from Day Tripper.

HOLY JESUS CHIRST THIS SONG HAS SO MUCH TO UNPACK... There are undeniably A BUNCH of other flawless harmonies in this song but my god the beatles knew what they were doing. Thats all I'm going to say really.... But once again. Power. In my veins. A few listens to this song and you'll find yourself having the strength of 1,000 men.

7. "Oh, now", "All I want is you" from Dig a Pony.

FIRST LYRIC... ITS LITERALLY 2 WORDS AND YET IT CONTINUES TO BLOW MY MIND. Something about the "Oh" ...... Its like an arrow passing through my heart I dont even know guys. Im not lying when I say it makes me feel like im floating. It makes me feel like i can quite literally grow wings and fling myself towards the sun. Dont even get me started on "All I want is you".......it literally triples the effect. It makes me go ballistic. The song is just mindless lyrics but the harmonieeesss.....

8. "Ah girlll.... *inhaeahelrlsseeesh* Girrll...." from Girl.

no words. Like. No words. I cant even. I seriously dont need to explain this one. Im just going to drop the isolated vocals version because if you havent listened to it you are MISSING OUT... you thought the originally recorded song was the greatest cause of your heart palpitations? Well you thought WRONG.

THIS IS.

9. "I love youwoowooowoowoooo...", "ask me WHYY..", "I can't believe.. Its happened to MEeee", "i cant concieve *doo doo doo do doo* of anymore *dun dun dun* MISERY" from Ask Me Why.

GOD OK LISTEN im just gonna say this now i absolutely adore and favor the please please me album so much i dont care what anyone says ok im such a sucker for their early sappy love songs ITS SO MANY GOOD HARMONIES ESPECIALLY FROM THIS ONE. MY GOD i listen to this and i feel like im with a lover late at night and we're like at one or the others house keeping each other warm and being all romantic and happy. Specifically the part that goes "ask me whyy I say i love you.. (OOOOHHHOOOO) and im always thinking of youuhoohohoo..." LIKE COME ON PLEAEE IT MAKES ME FEEL SO WARM INSIDE AND I SMILE IN AN INSTANT GOD I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH. Whenever i think im sad i go "no im not because Please Please Me." And its like all the sudden everything im sad about just poof disappears!

10. "If theres anything that you want.. IF THERES ANYTHING I CAN DOOOO" from From Me To You.

I am so in love with this song you guys i have no idea I LOVE IT SO MUCH. IT HAS THIS LITTLE SWING TO IT SPECIFICALLY BETWEEN THESE 2 LINES THAT MY BRAIN SEEKS FOR NEARLY EVERY DAY. the amount of blessing i get from this song is more than i can comprehend its literally insane i cant even. How does someone do this how did the beatles make music guys I am seriously so dumbfounded like they just sat there and wrote banger after banger like WHAT. this song makes me believe that life isnt as horrible as it seems and if im lucky enough i can just sing and dance to this song for all of eternity. There are also so many other good harmonies in this one as well...

---

In conclusion the beatles have had a chokehold on me for 3 years but I mean their stupid groundbreaking songs keep drawing me back in so.... This has also made me come to the conclusion that the Beatles simply arent real because I still dont believe a band can not only write consistent hits, but also harmonize in a way that causes me to spin around while doing backflips.

Thank you for your time.

[charliesworkshop]

Pairing: Loki x fem!Reader

Song of the day: Hurts - Something I Need To Know

Chapter warnings: angst, a lot of angst tbh, cheating if you squint, imma say abusive relationship just so there won't be any surprises

AN: Series of smutty / angsty fics inspired by songs by the band Hurts. Mostly angsty, because I'm a sucker for pain.

Reader is an Avenger with the power to create and control fire, and as they say, opposite attracts, so Loki takes interests in her.

MASTERLIST 🌹

Loki had a lot of patience. He just didn't like to use it, not when it was about things he really wanted. In this case he wanted to know what the fuck was going on between you and him.

You've been on one date so far, if you can call watching a movie and drinking whisky in the Avnegers' Tower a date.

You've shared few kisses, stolen in those rare moment when you've been left alone, hasty and innocent, nothing more than two pairs of uncertain lips brushing against each other.

But it was enough for his heart to quicken its pace whenever he thought of your soft, warm lips on his. The memory of your taste lingering in his mind long after you've left.

He assumed everything was going well, but then you suddenly stopped texting him back, ignored all his calls, and it's been almost a week since the two of you talked.

It would be much easier if you lived in the tower, but you were politely refusing moving in every time someone suggested it, jokingly saying that you didn't pay hell of a price for your own place only to abandon it after two years.

But it wasn't that hard to find out where you lived, it only took few hours of convincing and a promise to his brother that he won't do anything stupid or irresponsible with that information, and Thor asked Stark about it.

Gathering enough courage to actually go and see you was entirely different story. He really wanted to talk, to understand why you acted like this, but on the other hand, he had no rights to violate your privacy like that.

It was eating him alive, though, the fear that he did something wrong, that he somehow offended you, was creeping underneath his skin, present in his every breath, thought, beat of his heart. He was scared he's hurt you in some way, that he made you leave him.

It took him two days to finally snap. Whatever the truth was, he needed to know, for the sake of his sanity. And it was obvious you were hiding something from him.

It was Friday evening when he decided he's ready to talk to you, he was drinking Asgardian mead Thor brought from home, going through everything he said and did around you, and he couldn't find a single reason why would you ignore him.

He was tired of suspicions, tired of wondering why.

So he ordered a cab and went to see you in your flat in Hell's Kitchen, so sure of what he's going to say, so sure...

Until you opened the doors, dressed in an oversized sweater and nothing more, your hair messy, mascara smudged around reddened eyes, eyelashes still clumped with tears that already dried on your cheeks.

And all words escaped him in a split second, his heart dropping to his stomach, heavy, drumming, aching.

"It's really not a good time," you spoked in hoarse voice, barely above whisper, but it cut through air like a whip.

"Is it... Is it because of me?" He would rip his heart out if he was the reason of your misery.

"Why...? No, no," you stammered looking everywhere but his face, "I'll explain everything, just... Tonight isn't a good time," you repeated this like a mantra, hoping that will be enough to make him go away. But the look on his face was telling you it won't work.

"Y/n, I need to know, please..." He was ready to beg you for an explanation, but then his gaze fell upon a bag lying on the floor next to a couch, overflowing with clothes.

Male clothes.

"What's going on?" His firm voice made you shudder, your shoulders slumped even more and you looked like if you wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole.

You knew he noticed, and there was nothing you could say to make things better. So you remained silent, gaze fixed on his shoes, your eyes filling with tears again.

No one was supposed to know about this, about your stupid ex who didn't want to leave your flat for weeks now. Especially not Loki.

You planned on telling him about Derek, but after you're finally free from him, after you fix the mess of this horrible break up.

"Do you... Are you in a relationship with someone else, y/n?" You could hear the hurt in his voice, how he swallowed hard, it's must have been really difficult for him to ask this.

"Not anymore... We broke up two weeks ago for good," you answered honestly, a sigh leaving your trembling lips as you looked up at him.

It was over. You couldn't hide it anymore and Loki deserved better, much better. All of his emotions were written on his pale face, paler than usual, more tired and troubled, you noticed.

You knew what's going to happen next, so his outburst didn't surprise you. But it didn't hurt less just because you were prepered.

"Two weeks...? Two weeks?!" You stepped back, watching him with fear as he stalked you, closing the gap between you two, until you had nowhere else to run, back of your legs hitting the armrest of the couch. "You want to say you were with someone else when I kissed you for the first time?! How could you...?"

He knew he was probably overreacting, and that it was the alcohol speaking, but he was angry at you. He couldn't wrap his finger around what was going on in your head at that time when he kissed you for the first time, and then the second, and then another... And you were always kissing him back, despite having a boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, Loki... I didn't want to hurt you... I just didn't know how to tell you..."

"I wanted to know the truth, it's my fault," he laughed darkly, almost histerically, clenching and unclenching his fists over and over again, trying to calm down, to build a wall between you and him, his hurt feelings, and sarcasm was his way to do it. "I can't believe I actually thought I did something wrong."

"I know you're angry, but let me explain, please..." You wanted to make him understand, but it'd be very hard without telling him all the details of your previous relationship, without admitting how fucked up it was, how much you wanted to escape it. To the point that when Loki made a move... you didn't fight it.

"What, y/n? What do you want to explain? I already know everything," he half snarled, half laughed at you, and you could feel hot tears stinging your eyes.

"I'm sorry, okay? I fucked up, I know..." your throat was tight as you fought the tears, the clearly audible crack in your voice threatening to break your ability to speak. But you swallowed the lump in your throat, bravely looked up at his face, and continued, "You have all rights to be angry, but just listen..."

"You cheated on your boyfriend with me, y/n," he interrupted you once again, and suddenly, you got angry as well, "Prove me wrong."

You knew he was right, that he was hurt by your actions, by you ignoring him for a week, you really knew and understood... But something about him not listening made you so, so angry in that moment, because he knew the feeling of being misunderstood, he knew how it it feels when no one listens, no one lets you explain.

"I didn't cheat," you snapped at him, all those bottled for weeks feelings finally finding their outlet, and you felt good and bad at the same time, but it was too late to stop, so you continued, "I can't cheat on someone who's never here when I need them. I can't cheat on someone who's just using me as a stress relief and never listens to what I want! You think you know everything..." you smiled with sorrow, your brows knitted, folding arms on your chest, "But the truth is you know nothing about me. And you definitely know nothing about him," you finished with an angry huff, unfolding your arms and walking around Loki to your doors to open them wider. "You should go."

"Y/n, I had no idea," he muttered, turning around to face you, but you've had enough, you've made your mind.

"Yeah, but you decided to judge me anyway, so go. I already told you it's not a good time," your voice was cold, firm, he never heard it before, he didn't even know you were able to sound so aggressively. "He'll be here soon to pick up his shit. I have enough problems without him knowing about you."

You were no longer looking at him, and the entire anger clouding his mind faded away when he noticed how your shoulders trembled under the weight of anger, guilt, and sadness.

"Y/n... I'm sorry... You should've told me..."

"I want you out of my house, I won't repeat myself," you threatened, glancing at him, your eyes flashing red for a second, but you managed to control the fire spreading through your veins, only your fingertips were burning, foreboding flames that were soon to burst out of your clenched fist. "Don't come here again."

He wasn't going to challenge his luck, knowing that with your powers you can easily hurt him very badly, even kill him if you really wanted. So he walked passed you, his lips pursed, as he took in the sight of your broken face.

"I'm sorry," he only said again, and then left you alone, the sound of slamming of your front doors echoing long in his ears.

So after all, he was the one who fucked things up. And only because he didn't listen.

Tag list: @someonekeepstakingmyusernames

So... first of all, sorry it took so long, I'm struggling with a writer's block, but I really wanted to finally finish and post this. It turned out more angsty than I intended, and I promise the next parts are gonna be better. I have no one to check for mistakes and grammar errors, and I typed it on my phone, so I'm sorry if there are any. Dunno when I'll write the next part, hopefully sooner than later. I hope you enjoyed it anyway! <3

[nessamaurice]

Simple Ch. 6 (Loki x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.

Story rating: M

Chapter trigger warnings: harming

Words: 2108

6

It turned out the tests Bruce made with you seemed to be alright, nothing you didn't knew or that wasn’t indicated before. The following days passed without anything special happening, except your relation with Loki. You tried to pick up the conversation with Loki again but apparently the moment was over. He shut himself off again. But you didn't miss out that he continued to feel more comfortable around you. The next day he accepted your tea offering for the first time. That made you ridiculously happy and you couldn't hide the big grin appearing on your face.

"What's so funny?"

"What? Oh, no, nothing." After a few moments of silence you couldn't hold back, "Do you like my tea? Today I chose a rose flavored green tea. I love the scent of roses. I don't like the flowers themselves, they are everywhere you look, being pretentious, I'm just weary of them, but their scent...“ You let out a little, soft moan. „Wonderful."

Your rambling was met with silence and you almost gave in, disappointed. But before you looked away you could see a small smirk tugging on his lips.

A few days later you just couldn't contain yourself anymore. You turned in your winged chair to Loki.

"How are you feeling today?"

"...What?"

"How do you feel? We've been sharing these rooms for quite a few days now and have barely spoken to each other. Tell me something. Anything. Or ask me something! Just let us interact in any way. I can't take it any longer."

He looked you straight in the eyes, the dimmed sunlight making the green-blue almost glow. Then a question seemed to pop up in his mind.

"What are you reading?"

You looked down at the book on your lap. "What I’m reading? Oh, that is something specific. It's called Antiquitates Iudaicae. It's not that easy to read, it's not like a novel or something, it is more like a history book. The text is about 1900 years old. A roman-jewish historian named Flavius Josephus tries to explain his beliefs to the Greek to help them understand his culture."

"Why are you reading this, since it is not easy to read?"

"I am a faithful person and it helps me a bit understanding the setting and the time when the bible was written. There are no other ancient Jews from the first century left around here, so I wanted to know how he tried to explain his culture to persons that have no relation with it."

"So, you believe in god? Then you must be humbled to be in the presence of one." A lofty expression appeared on his face, but was wiped away the second you started laughing.

"I'm sorry, really. Don't want to be disrespectful. But do you really think you are a god? Just because you have access to other dimensions and live a few thousand years? Not that this wouldn't be highly impressive, honestly. But you are as far away from being a god than I am. You are a creation, not a creator."

Loki wanted to say something but the words kept stuck in his throat. His face turned sly.

"You have no idea what I am capable of." His voice was low and husky.

"You are completely right. If there was some sort of food chain, I'd clearly be beyond you because of your many skills and knowledge. But they don't make you the summit, neither. Look, I totally see why the ancient Norse people thought of you as gods. What you can do is really admirable. But I would never give you this title. I got too much respect of it."

Loki tried to swallow down his anger. He really wanted to behave but even more he wanted you to explain that. "So, what do you think deserves this title?"

"Love. Compassion. Mercy. Omnipotence. I think, nothing in the whole universe happens without him allowing it to happen. Even the bad things. For the most people it's hard to accept that. They blame him for all the terrible things. It's not like that he would cause the bad things to happen. But he knows exactly what's going on. He knows every outcome of every move. And, I believe, he leads us on the tracks we should go. Not like we are just marionettes and he sets every move, but at some points, big decisions that give our lifes a turn, he may give us a certain push. A lot dreadful stuff happened to me in my life, but who knows that it couldn't have been even worse? Who is able to say the way it went is not the best of all possibilities? Even if it is hard to cope with, I know he gives me the strength to get through. Whether it is some sort of energy that comes from within me or he puts people in my life that will help me with whatever comes my way. But that is my totally personal point of view. The nice thing is, I don't have to persuade anyone to believe the same. My faith is individual. Nobody has to agree with me. This is what helps me get through life. Not to give up.... What sort of faith do you have? ...if you have one at all?"

Loki listened carefully and his face slowly softened as he followed your thoughts. He seemed a bit surprised as you addressed the question to him, like he was asked for his opinion for the first time in his life.

"That is a very interesting point of view, I have to admit. I can imagine that it is not very popular, but interesting, though. I... I never really developed something you could call faith. My culture is full of myths and legends. I learned everything about our Allfathers and Gods, but never took it really personal. I was not attracted to do so."

He stopped talking and started pondering on that thought. You watched his face, his eyes getting lost. You used the opportunity to take a closer look and studied his face. It was edgy and delicate at the same time. His bright eyes pierced right through you every time he looked at you. He was very concentrated on what he wanted to say next, so you simply kept quiet and waited for him to form his thoughts into words. It was rather beautiful to watch his mind work.

After a short while he continued, "I think there might be something like a higher force that has impact on our lives. But that started just recently. I long thought that I am the master of every of my own steps and if I place them right, everything will work out just fine. I will get what I want if I only fight hard enough for it. So that's what I did, I fought for my own purposes. But all I got was misery, sorrow and hatred." 

You could literally see his pain boiling up from the inside. It was tearing him in two. You reacted out of instinct and reached out to lay your hand on his cheek. His eyes darted at you immediately, turning glassy. Softly you stroke over his cheek with your thumb. You wished you could just pull him into a tight embrace and help him let go of all expectations towards himself. To put down his guard. It was like you could literally feel his inner need of ease and solace. But he was just too much of a proud man. He pressed his lips together and pushed your hand away, abruptly stood up, stepping towards the window front, staring outside with his arms crossed.

"I'm sorry." Was all that came to your mind. Pathetic, you thought. And he thought that as well.

"You have no idea what you are talking about." He hissed turning towards you. "Don't act like you would understand. YOU HAVE NO IDEA!" He shouted at you and disappeared right in front of your eyes. You sat there in your winged chair, nonplussed. You looked around the room, but no sight of him.

Far beyond puzzled, you started to talk with the air. "I... I don't if you are still here? But, I wanted to say that you are right. I have no idea what you've been through. What it feels like to be in your skin. If I were, I know I would have done the same that you did, because you are the only person that feels this way. I am no one to judge. I never judge. Well, at least I try. The big truth is that it's simply impossible to compare individuals with each other. We are the summaries of our experiences and we all have our very own way of perceiving the world around us. So, I have to add as well that you also have no idea what you are talking about. I do understand. Traumata are a serious thing and everyone reacts differently to that, but don't treat me like I had no empathy. Maybe everyone else treated you like you didn't even had the right to speak your mind, but I'm not like this. You are intelligent and attentive and if you haven't noticed that by now, you are obviously blinded by some kind of rage and hatred. And pride. But I don't want to push you. Just know that I won't let you treat me like this. I will not leave you because I can imagine that you've been left too often in your life, but I will not tolerate it. Okay, and because it feels like I have a serious conversation with myself outside of my head I'm gonna go into the kitchen to get me a drink because that's fucking strange. Feel free to join me there."

You sat on a barstool and looked out of the giant window front at the other side of the even bigger room. You felt the cold sweat of the glass condensing in your hand, running over your fingers. Totally lost in your thoughts you didn't notice Steve sitting down next to you. He really tried not to startle you but failed.

"Sorry Y/N. Just thought you looked like something was on your mind you'd like to talk about?"

"No problem. Ah, no, it's okay. There were just some intense emotions between Loki and me."

Looking at his raised eyebrows you awkwardly cleared your throat as you explained yourself, "Oh no no no, not something like that. Totally not. No no." Somehow you dwelled in that thought a bit too long.

"Well, that were lots of 'no's but okay." Steve laughed and pushed you slightly with his shoulder to the side.

Before you could blush too obviously you changed topic, "Have you seen Tony? The last time I saw him was when were having pizza. Is everything alright?"

"To be honest I haven't seen him, neither. Well, at least not in person. I walked by the lab and saw him video chatting with Bruce, so he must be okay. But don't worry, wouldn't be the first time he disappears for a few days without telling anyone. ... Are you sure you don't want to talk about what's weighing you down?"

"Thank you Steve. Everything's fine." You conjured a smile though you didn't felt like smiling which made it totally implausible. But Steve accepted you didn't want to talk right now. He assured you can knock on his door whenever you wanted before he left the open kitchen of the common room again. You really, really hoped Loki would show up in the kitchen. You imagined both of you together having a drink, talking, enjoying each other's companionship... But you were pulled out of your day dream by a polite voice.

"Miss Y/N, your presence is demanded outside of the personal rooms."

"What? Me? For what?" You thought JARVIS sounded differently than usual.

"I am sorry, Miss, but I was not given further information than it being important and urgent."

"Uhm, okay. Sure. Just a sec." You gulped down the rest of your Gin Tonic and jumped off the barstool. For a moment it felt like someone was slightly brushing your arm as to hold you. You stopped, looked around, but didn't see anyone, so you went on.

After you slipped into your shoes and a coat you were going down to the ground floor with the lift. The doors opened and the blood in your veins froze. Two giant, black-suited men immediately entered the lift. One grabbed your arms and pulled them violently behind your back and the other one pressed a strongly sweet smelling piece of fabric on your mouth and nose. You felt a sharp sting right into the side of your neck just before everything went limp and dark.

Taglist: @it-jinxed-us​, @humbledarkness​, @lunawitch19

[cela-astral-projection]

Purple clover, Queen Anne lace. Crimson hair across your face. You could make me cry if you don't know. Can't remember what I was thinkin' of. You might be spoilin' me too much, love.  You're gonna make me lonesome when you go.

It had been weeks. A month. Longer. If Muriel didn't know Asra better, he would be concerned. Asra was nothing if not leisurely in his pursuits under the best of circumstances. But Celeste was getting a bit worried. She had never been subject to Asra's whims and flights of fancy.

It was the early evening. The sun was still warming the forest, but Muriel knew he was running out of time before the dark.

Muriel had taken it upon himself to be the guardian of the forest — a routine task most days. And Celeste had come with him since she had been at the hut. It was nice to walk together in the early mornings and late afternoons, enjoying each other's company.

Celeste had been unsettled most of the day. And they both knew that something had changed. He had asked for her to stay inside, anticipating resistance. But she had complied.

She was afraid. And it instilled fear into him.

Nothing truly seemed amiss, at least not that he could pinpoint. Perhaps something on the air. The way that the light shone through the trees. If anything, the world around him seemed more peaceful. More alive.

He questioned himself. What was this paranoia? What was this feeling of dread that had seated itself in both of them, destroying their tranquility?

He knelt by a stream, bending down to splash cold water on his face, trying to steady his nerves before he headed back to the hut. But, in the rippling of the water, he saw a reflection on the other side, shimmering. The world dimming around him.

He rose slowly and was confronted by a hooded figure in a pale grey robe. Their face was obscured, but he could see a long salt and pepper beard spilling out. They held a lantern in one hand, and a long, gnarled staff in the other.

He knew this Figure. His patron.

"The Magician's Pledge is coming." The Figure spoke, it's voice placid. "Your reprieve is at an end, Muriel. I pray that it shall be enough to sustain you."

He stared, confused. "Reprive?"

"From the terms of your deal. It has been generous. I think you will agree."

"I didn't ask for a reprieve. Asra brought her to me." he countered as if his denial mattered.

The Hermit inclined its head. He could see the shape of their mouth, the corners upturned. "You did not need to ask. These things fall into place for a reason. You needed her, and the Magician and I made sure that you were supplied, and that the Magician's Pledge was given respite. Enough that you can continue and fulfill the terms of your compact with the Arcana."

"You can change this. You can free me. Free Celeste. You can heal her." he pleaded. "I don't want this. I don't want to go back to being alone."

"I know. It is a heavy burden to carry alone. You were informed of this before the deals were struck. The best is bought at the cost of great pain. And life restored..." the Figure breathed a heavy sigh.

"Please, I have had the pain. I have had more than enough sadness. My whole life has been one misery after another...the solitude was meant to be a blessing, was it not?" Muriel said, his voice rising, frantic.

"Dear Boy, if it were not for your pain, I would not have trusted you with this deal." the voice responded, calm as ever. Unfazed by his increasing panic. "You are well acquainted with hurt and loss. You are practiced in grief. I know you can survive this just a while longer. There is a great blessing on the other side of this endeavor."

"What happens if I refuse? What happens if she stays with me?" he implored, resisting the inevitable.

"Then she is reclaimed by Death. Her body falls away to bone and ash. The Magician's Pledge is also taken. His heart is contained within her Vessel, they will not be parted by Death again."

Muriel drew a ragged breath. Celeste and Asra. Lost to him. Taken by Death.

The Hermit resumed. "And that is simply the immediate effect. There will be grief in it. But, understand me, it will be nothing for the misery to come.  There are more significant, much more far-reaching implications."

"I don't understand," Muriel said, defeated. "I can't understand this. Of course, she's worth it, to me. But...why does it have to be this way? What aren't you telling us? What are we paying for?"

"It is foolish to believe that I, alone, set the price for this deal.  The winds have already begun to shift, Muriel. These days feel long, but the years will be shorter now. You will be broken by this. That was the goal. So that you would be weakened, and brought low."

The voice changed, and it sounded almost sympathetic.

"I wish you to know that if it were up to many of us, the balance would lean much more heavily in your favor. But...sadly, there is a precarious balance. Twenty-one Major Arcana. All of us with our players, playing the ends against the middle. There is a certain matter of inexactitude, knowing how things will ebb and flow." The Hermit lamented. "I would not ask this of you if I did not truly believe that you were worthy of the challenge."

"I'm not," Muriel said, his head falling, his voice breaking. "I'm not worthy. I can't do this. I don't know how to do this. I don't want to do this."

The Figure floated across the stream, and Muriel stepped back, not wanting to be near to them, far out of their grasp.

"Do you know what it means, Dear Boy, to be The Hermit?" the voice implored. "You are inhabiting the reverse right now. You have been in this for years. Your longing for seclusion, though, entirely understandable, has cost you dearly. It is a perilous path you are traversing. But, even until now, you have not been alone. You might have felt alone. But you had your friend. Your lover. And he brought you a beautiful woman. And they have loved you fiercely when you could not love yourself. And still, you were turned inward, keeping them at a distance. Afraid."

"Not now. I'm not alone now. I'm better with Celeste. With Asra. This is how I'm supposed to be." Muriel objected, shaking his head.

The Figure nodded in agreement. "You are better. Remember that. You are made better by love. You will have loneliness thrust upon you. And what you do with this time will guide you going forward. That's what it means to be The Hermit."

The Figure extended their lantern to Muriel, dangling it on the finger of one large hand.

"It will be dark. But, you will have enough light to see the next step ahead. The path you take...it can lead to great introspection. Alignment with who you are meant to be. Or, you can continue the way you have been. Into true seclusion and madness. And I assure you, influenced by pain, the sirens call into the abyss is very tempting."

The Figure withdrew their lantern. They lifted the hand to his hood and pulled it back.

Muriel stared into their eyes. His green eyes. His face. His scars were there, but they were faded. And there were wrinkles. Marked by age. The Hermit looked regal. His hair plaited back, streaked with silver. A long beard framing his jaw. The appearance of one well acquainted with their inner voice. Someone that had found their destination. A mentor. A guide. Muriel's face reflected back at him.

"I have seen your ends, Muriel. And I have hope for you. I don't think you'll fail me." The Hermit smiled. "There are better days beyond this darkness. I assure you."

Muriel was entranced. Unable to move, barely able to breathe.

The Hermit laughed. "You age well. It suits you. I could have taken my more traditional form, but I thought this might be an inspiration." He lifted the hood again, and the face was obscured.

He continued, "I will take my leave from you. The Magician has nearly finished with your friend. He will be here soon.  Please, go home. Say your goodbyes. You'll have to take the charm from Celeste. She can't keep it."

"Celeste won't understand," Muriel replied, shaken from his reverie when he was confronted with the reality. "She knows she has to keep that to remember me. It will break her heart."

The Figure scoffed. "That Woman is more resilient than you give her credit for.  And so are you."  He was moving away from Muriel and disappating. Becoming more translucent. "The days will be long, but the years will be short. Stay the path. There is an end to this darkness. I promise you."

And then The Hermit was gone. The light was restored to the forest. The sun was setting, and there was a brilliant orange glow cast around him, flowing through the trees.

--

Celeste had made dinner, picked up the hut. Magicked the furs on the bed clean for what felt like the thousandth time since she had arrived, so terribly abused in the wake of their lovemaking. Now, she was just worried and bored. She sat on the side of the bed, alternating between watching the door and casting spells on the plates to keep them warm.

When Muriel came in, she rose to greet him, but he was across the room before she could even take a step. He had her face in his hands, bending down to catch her mouth, pressing soft kisses against her lips. His eyes were closed. Celeste was pleased but caught off guard. She brought her arms to his neck, drawing him in more firmly against her. He smoothed his hands down her neck, her chest, to her hips.

Celeste pulled back a bit, breaking free of his lips, studying his face. "What...what's wrong?" she asked, seeing how his expression was fallen. All false passion. Sadness radiating off of him.

He didn't answer, but he held her hips, his hands moving at her side subtly, fidgeting. She tried to pull away, and he released her, his hands forming fists at his sides.

"What happened?" she asked, looking him over, searching him for signs of injury. "Muriel?" She pressed, but he would not meet her gaze.

"Please...just..." he started, trying to find words. To compose himself.

In his hand, he had the tiny satchel of myrrh. Stolen from her skirt pocket. It felt like it burned in his fist.

"Celeste, I need you to kiss me. Just...I need you for a few minutes. Please?" he said, opening his eyes. He swallowed his tears, trying to remain composed, not wanting to give himself away.

"Muriel..." she said, confused. He never needed to ask her before. She was free to him, to kiss, to touch.

She heard the door open again behind Muriel. And she stepped to his side. Muriel tense, not turning.

Asra.

"Oh," she said, staring.

Asra said nothing, his eyes downcast.

"Oh, no," she said, putting the pieces together. Her hand moved to her side, and she found the pocket emptied. The memory charm gone.

They all stood silent for a moment, unsure how to move forward.

"I don't want to forget," Celeste said, finally. "Please...we can stay here. Asra. Please. Master, Please." she implored, frantic, feeling tears welling in her eyes.

Muriel, pained by the tone of her voice, turned to sweep her into his arms, and Asra was across the room as quickly, catching her. They were tangled together, trying to comfort her, explain themselves, words falling on her like rain.

None of it made sense. Wasn't this what they all wanted? Why did they want her to forget? Why would they punish themselves in this way?

"Celeste, we love you," Asra said, clinging to her. "That's why we have to go. We will be together. Soon. But, for now, we have to take care of you...and that means we can't stay."

Asra's eyes met Muriel's, and Muriel nodded, continuing. "We are going to fix this. I promise you. But we still have things to do. We have promises to keep. You don't understand...but you will. Soon. Okay?"

"No, no. I won't understand. Why is this happening? Please, tell me." she said, sobbing into his chest. "Why can't I remember? Why can't I stay?"

They held each other, Asra's head on Celeste's shoulder, tears streaming from his eyes. Muriels face buried in her hair, breathing her in. There was no good answer to any of this. Nothing satisfactory to offer her. It was devastating. Knowing she was too fragile to entrust with this knowledge. That maybe she'd never be able to grasp it. And what if she could? Would she trust them? Would she be able to go on loving them?

But, for now, their patrons had been clear. Celeste and Asra were not safe to stay. They all had to play their part.

Asra disengaged from them. He gave Muriel's arm a squeeze. Hoping to impart some small comfort, but knowing it was utterly useless.

Muriel whispered words of love and comfort. He made promises that he didn't know he would be able to keep. He kissed her over and over. He wiped her tears away, held her tight. He pledged his love and devotion to her.

When she was exhausted and defeated, she moved from the circle of his embrace, her hand at his cheek, staring into his eyes.

She made one last plea. "Let me stay, Muriel. I won't forget."

He shook his head, drawing a ragged breath. "It will be okay," he replied unconvincingly. "Because we love each other. And we'll find a way back to one another."

Asra placed his hand on her shoulder. "We have to go. Okay? Once you're outside, it will be easier. I promise. It will be quick."

Muriel looked upwards, remembering. It wasn't easy, last time. He remembered her wailing as he disappeared from her. He never wanted to feel this again. Never wanted to hurt her like this.

He followed them to the door. He caught her arm as they moved to leave, pulling her back to him for one final kiss. It was shaky and painful. Almost bruising.

"I love you," Celeste said, new tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"I love you," Muriel replied, his hand falling away from her.

Asra swiped his arm across his eyes, watching as Celeste stepped out. He turned back to Muriel, and Muriel raised his hand to him.

"You can't come here. Not anymore." Muriel said, dark, his eyes narrowing.

Asra blinked at him, shaking his head. "Muriel, please..."

"You aren't welcome here. I won't do this again. I can't." he said, finally.

Asra stepped back, clenching his jaw. "You don't mean it."

"I do." Muriel bit back.

And then the door swung closed. Asra heard Muriel fall against it, bracing against Asra. Against Celeste. Sealing himself away.

Asra stood, staring. Numb.

Celeste was staring off into the forest. Her hand was at her chest, unsure of what this sensation was. Why these tears were creeping from her eyes. Where she even was. She turned around, and caught the sight of Asra's hair, staring at a stone structure, buried below a tree.

"Asra?" she asked, looking around, panicked. "Asra, what's happening?" she cried out, frenzied when he did not turn to her.

Muriel sat, back against the door, listening to her scream Asra's name, completely lost.

He drew his knees up to his chest, arms crossed over them and lowered his head. His body shook with painful, silent sobs, wrenching out of his chest.

[cherriready]

Witness, Judge, Executioner

Requests: Open!

“I only remember h-how my mother…"tried to speak Y/N as she hold onto her glass of whisky and had her gaze focused on the fireplace. "My mother’s screams are all I remember. There was also a lot of blood. My father was face down. My brother told me to hide, and I did. I ran upstairs and hid under my bed, while I was crying and trying to hold my breath… quiet as a mouse, trying not to make any noise noise.” said Y/N as she turned away the tears that started to rolled down her face, began to tremble at the memory that kept haunting her 20 years.

She rose from the couch where she was sat and walked towards the fireplace, where she took the whisky glass with her and gave it a sip.

Steve, un the other hand was quiet, rubbing his hands as he nodded and looked down at his lap. Clenching his teeth as he learned the part of the story that followed, he couldn't help but stand up and go to were his friend and teammate was, to try to comfort her as he put one of his hands on her shoulder and he squeezed it as a sign of reassurance.

“Suddenly my mother’s screams ceased after hearing the echo of a gunshot. At that moment I knew that I had no one left in this world, that I was alone.” she said before she finished drinking her whisky. “I heard his footsteps crawling up the creaking stairs… his fucking steady, slow steps approached the hallway leading to my room.. And-And then...”

“Y/N… Please.” Steve begged with tears in his eyes as he looked at his friend with supplication. “Don’t. You don't have to keep telling me this. Just-"

“Every night I heard in my dreams his slow and tortuous steps that are getting closer and closer to me. I also hear the cries of my mother and her gasps and moans from crying so much for my father and brother, Steve. I can still hear her, begging for him to stop and to leave me alone! Like that night.” Y/N said as she threw the glass furiously into the fire and looked at her friend. “He knew perfectly well where I was hiding. We both knew what was coming for me. That’s why when he grabbed my foot and dragged me out from under my bed, I thought it was all over and that at least... and t-that at least, I would be reunited with my family. That he was gonna kill me, that was going to put an end to my misery, but no.” said furiously the woman, feeling how the anger invaded her, as she watched the fire consume the wood. “He looked at me like it wasn't worthy... killing me, like it wasn’t worthy spending one more bullet for a six-year-old little girl."

"He did the worst thing he could do to me, Stevie..." the young avenger sobbed with a frown, as she could savor those salty tears that came down her face. "He left me alive."

“You need to understand that it wasn’t Bucky who did all that. It wasn't him. He had no choice or– Look. He was being controlled by HYDRA. You-you know he didn’t–”

“I don’t care! I don't care, okay!?” shouted Y/N. “I was a child and I witnessed how that son of a bitch killed my family... My entire family! First to go was my brother, then my father and finally my mother. And he left me alive? Why!? Huh, why!?” screamed Y/N with more anger and pain than before, as she approached dangerously to Steve, who was looking at her with sadness and pain in the eyes because of her words. “I don’t care if that sick bastard is a friend of yours or if he was being controlled like a fucking puppet for all those bloody decades! The nightmares he has and all his demons are more than well deserved! It’s what he deserves.” said the las thing in a whisper while she pointed at him with her finger.

“Are you listening to yourself Y/N!? This is not you!”

“Oh, you are damn wrong there, Cap. This is me.” said Y/N as she pulled out her gun and loaded it. “But... you know what?" she looked at her gun and later to Rogers. "What that son of a bitch really deserves is the bullet that I’m about to put in his head. But first I'm gonna beat the crap out of him. It's the least I can do for him, isn't it?” the female faked a smile before she left the room in search of her prey, but not before take care of locking Steve in the room, without him being able to escape in any way.

"No! Don't do it, Y/N! Please! NO!" was the last thing Steve said before his teammate ran out of the place.

Steve kept repeating that scene in his head over and over and over again, as he sat on the floor and stared at the wall - waiting for his friend to arrive and tell him she had committed her purpose, which terrified, pissed and saddened him deeply.

The room in which the Captain was locked was upside down. He had tried to use every possible object and piece of furniture to try to open the door of the bunker in which he was, which was one of the panic rooms in the tower. Although, it had to be admitted that several of the broken furniture was because he had paid all the frustration and helplessness he felt by broking them.

He felt like an enclosed beast looking for a desperate way to escape a trap.

"Crap!" he said as he threw a wooden chair against the steel door. "Fuck," exclaimed as he accelerated his breathing and began to cry again. He had lost count of how many times he had done it since he was locked up. "This can't be happening..." he sobbed as he fell on his knees, hands on his face.

He had not only lost Bucky that day, but also Y/N, who would do anything to accomplish her personal task, even if it cost her her own life. He knew that the fight that had taken place could have been fatal for either of his two friends.

"There must-"

Suddenly the enclosure door opened, the blonde man looked up and with red, watery eyes and watched Y/N, who was trying to catch her breath and was covered in blood. He didn't know if it was hers or Bucky's, maybe it was from both of them. "I did it," whispered the young woman with a trembling voice.

"Y/N..." Rogers tried to get up slowly, carefully.

"I did it, Steve. I have... done it. I-I've killed my family's murderer," the female said with a tired sigh as she approached her friend. "He... Al-he was... I- Goddammit, I was s-so..." Y/N, exhausted, tried to talk to him before she fainted, Steve catch her.

Okay, first of all, this was an idea I had a long time ago and that I'd like to turn into a series, but I'm not sure if I'm going to do it or not. If so, I would like to publish it this summer, when I have more free time and have managed to finish most of the requests I have right now, so everyone would be happy.

Btw if anyone would be interested in being tagged in the story, just let me know so I'll start doing a tag list for this story!

And that's it, good night my dudes!

[thefandomcassandra]

11 (Alt.): Infection

It was my fucking birthright. It was my goddamn fucking home too. How dare you snatch it away like that?! My fucking sister! My sister and the man I thought loved me. Fucking took everything from me and didn't give a godsdamn.

It

was

my

fucking

gods-given

right.

But there Jolene is, sitting pretty topside as fucking Meemaw of the fucking Crick, while I freeze my godsdamned tits off in the Hells.

In Caïna no less.

(I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry Jolene. I didn't mean for this to happen. Please, take care of them for me. I didn't mean for you to do this alone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.)

Spit in my face while I'm down, huh? Kick me in the fucking ribs while I'm busy dealing with the fallout, yeah?

Ain't that just how it goes? Everything Marabelle has, Jolene wants, and Jolene always gets what she fucking wants.

Bitch. Bitch. Bitch!

Fucking liar! Thief! Traitor! You should be trapped here! Not fucking me!

(No. No. No one should be here, in the coldest parts of the Hells. Not you. Not you, Jolene, and not him neither. You didn't take nothing that wasn't mine in the first place and you know it. Don't feel guilty. Please just live your life. Don't linger. Keep them safe.)

If Jolene wants what Marabelle has, then maybe I'll fucking give it to her. You can fucking well have this.

Coz the one thing I've always been better at than you was mushrooms. And now that's all I am.

Mushrooms and hate.

You want it so bad, little sis? You want everything I've ever had? Then you can fucking have it. Take it all. Every last little bit.

(It's sickening, how easy it is for the anger to fester. Bubble and brew into something horrible. How much of this is me and how much of this is Hellish influence? I was always angry, so I guess it tracks. You were the better of the two of us and I should've realized sooner. You were always the better leader anyway. Much more level-headed.)

And time is fucky here. I've got time to spare. Let's see what nasty things I can cook up while I wait? What all I can dredge up from the sludge to make you suffer, yeah? And when all's said and done, I want you to beg, on your fucking knees, that I take it back. I want you to lick my fucking feet and apoligize for ever being fucking born. Then I'll consider putting you out of your fucking misery.

Only then will I entertain the idea of putting you in the dirt to nourish my children. Only then will I court the thought of ending your godsdamned life.

(If you see me again, it's not gonna be me. It's not gonna be your big sister, who wanted you to be the best you could. It's gonna be this monster of fungus and hate and you're gonna hafta put a bullet in my head and I'm so sorry to force your hand like that. Y'all don't deserve that. Not you, not him, not anyone. But I'm not gonna be me anymore and I can't control that. Please, Jolene, just kill me. Help me by killing me. Jolene, I'm begging you to please just end my life. It'll be better for everyone if you do.)

Hope you like my gift. My preview. Coz that fucking hero thought he did me in but he didn't finish the fucking job. And with Asmodeus dead and gone, I'm home fucking free. So you and every other goddamn fucking elf in the Crick is gonna get a taste of my anger.

But especially you.

I'm gonna personally make sure your lungs are swamped with it.

Fucking teach you to take from me.

It was my goddamn right.

And I'm in the fucking right.

So have fun playing house while you can, lil sis. Coz I'm coming home and I'm bringing hell to your fucking doorstep. Set the table for three: you, me, and the Grim fucking Reaper.

(I'm sorry Jolene. I'm sorry Jolene. I'm sorry Jolene.)