#(the fun part of masking is where i don't fuck things up and people in passing like me)

[bookwyrminspiration]

hey

how r u? anyways i drew a kitty :)

hey! I'm doing alright, all classes are now in session so little less free time, but I like learning so that's okay. Have been a little wired recently because I have met a lot of new people and formed a lot of new connections all at once! Which is a little overwhelming but not necessarily bad!

thank you for sharing the kitty with me! i'm quite fond of cats and would replace my dog with another cat if I didn't know that was a mean thing to do and would upset my mother. this one looks very polite :)

I hope you're doing well!

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-two —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 5.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I'm sorry lmaooo nine months... hopefully we can finish this thing!

B

"Hold him close to your chest, or he'll jump out of your arms. Here—like this."

Blue gently cradles the rabbit, then carefully tucks him into Ari's arms, guiding his hands to scoop under Grim's fluffy rear. She can't help but find it amusing that the boy who had taken her riding on such a large animal yesterday looks so wary holding a harmless bunny. A giggle bubbles up, and she bites her lip to keep it in.

"He's so... squirmy."

Blue keeps her hand on Grim, reassuring both the rabbit and him. "He's just ready for his breakfast. Want to help me feed him?"

"Sure."

Blue leads Ari to the hutch where the other rabbits are. She explains her morning routine, showing him how to supply the rabbits with enough grass, leaves, and berries to keep them healthy and plump. Not long ago, she was explaining this to Twix—the very person she forgot to say good morning to in a rush to find Ari outside. This time around, she wonders if Ari is genuinely interested or just being polite. She finds herself stealing glances at his face, studying his expressions perhaps longer than she should. His almond-shaped eyes and dark pink lips catch her attention.

He's cute.

It's not the first time the thought has crossed her mind since these strangers appeared. Cute like the men in her magazines, though he's not quite a man. Not in the way Ghost is. But he's taller than her by a head and two years older, evident in the notch on his throat and the deeper timbre of his voice.

But it doesn't matter. They are only here for a few days.

Blue closes the hutch and rocks on the soles of her boots. "Well, that was probably boring, huh? We could, um, go hunting if you want. Or to the pond. It's fun to swim there. Or maybe—" She pauses, mentally sifting through the limited activities available, frustration creeping in as none of them seem particularly impressive.

"This wasn't boring. Now I know rabbits are just as friendly as horses." He smiles.

"They are... except when Grim gets mad. Then he can be a bit of a jerk. Like if you accidentally step on his tail."

"I'd be pretty pissed if someone stepped on my tail, too."

"You don't have a tail."

"It's just a joke."

"Oh..." she fidgets with a strand of hair. "Right."

"The pond sounds good. It is fucking hot." Ari blows out a breath and swipes at the back of his neck.

"I know. So hot. Hot as balls."

Ari raises an amused brow. "Yeah, uh, hot as balls. Are you allowed to go by yourself, or do we need to ask your dad?"

"I get to do what I want," she lies easily with a shrug. "Buuuuut, we can ask Twix to go with us."

As long as Twix is with her, she suspects she can get away with not asking Ghost, who luckily is hunting with his old captain. It's not that he seems distrusting with these people as he did those first few months with Twix. Rather—she isn't thrilled about him knowing every little thing she does. She's never had anything just to herself. 

Twix is sitting on the porch, looking rather deep in thought as she skins a squirrel. Her hair is long, curtaining her face. When Blue asks if she wants to go to the pond, she agrees easily, claiming she has been meaning to cut her hair anyway with the encroaching warmth of summer. Nereida joins, too. 

Even early, the air is sticky, and the pond is cool and inviting. Ari rips his shirt off and jumps in without even a second to waste. Blue usually swims in her underwear and shirt, but she hesitates with her thumb in the belt loops of her jeans. She didn't consider that he would see her in her underwear. 

A soft touch to her shoulder. It's Twix. "Want me to grab you shorts real quick?"

"Um... yes. Yes please."

She changes into the shorts behind a tree. There is an odd pit in her stomach when she gets in the water. She doesn't quite know what it is, but it's similar to how she feels when she's scared sometimes. Ghost always tells her fear is a useless thing. It doesn't keep you alive. So she ignores it, shoves it down deep, and swims over to Ari with a purposeful splash that even wets Twix, who sits at the edge sharpening her knife.

"Damn. That's gonna cost you."

A splash is given in return, and then they are playing. High noon bounces shimmering light off the water as she tries to keep up with him, but at one point he sneaks up on her and she ends up with a mouthful. Nereida spends her time picking at some bunches of rosemary and Twix cuts her hair. But Blue doesn't notice any of that too much. When the water stills and they pause to catch their breath, Ari climbs onto a rock and shakes out his wet hair. She is quick to find a perch beside him. Absentmindedly, she pinches the bottom of her wet shirt to keep it from sticking to her chest.

"Woah. What happened here?"

Ari leans over to tap her thigh. 

"Oh—" she looks down at the thick scar, "I got shot there."

"Shit. You've been shot before?"

She nods and he moves his hand. "That's your battle scar."

"Battle scar?"

He smiles, eyes gleaming. "It's nice to have some place to swim so close by. Back at our old camp, there was lake but it was a few miles away, so my mom rarely let me go."

"I'm sorry, you know. About your mom. Mine is dead, too."

He half-smiles. "Thanks. I don't think about it too much anymore. My uncle and I have always been close so it helped to have him there." He nudges her shoulder. "You're damn lucky to have such a cool dad, huh?"

"Ghost?"

"Yeah, that guy is a beast. My uncle says they called him Ghost because no one could ever see him coming before suddenly, they were dead." 

"Oh, yeah, he is super cool," she quickly agrees. "He has taught me a lot."

"Shit, really?"

Nibbling the inside of her cheek, she shrugs to feign indifference. "I know how to throw knives pretty well."

"I gotta see that." His smirk etches a light dimple into his cheek. Then, his eyes flash behind her. "So what's up with his girlfriend?"

"Huh?" A divot forms between her brows before she follows his gaze, landing on Twix, whose hair is now just past her shoulders. She is wetting it, running her fingers through the newly cut strands. "Oh—Twix. That is not his girlfriend. She is my friend."

"You mean they don't sleep together?"

"Like in the same bed?"

"That's usually where people fuck, yeah."

He seems ready to laugh. She frowns, head tilting as confusion hums in her chest. "You mean like sex?"

He nods. "You know what that is, right?"

"Yeah, of course. I know all about it."

"You know they're probably doing it, right?"

"Ghost and Twix? No—no," she forces a laugh. "I mean, sometimes I catch him staring at her all weird. But I don't think—I mean, they hardly like each other and she is my friend, really, not his. He used to make me stay away from her, even. But I mean, they do spend a lot of time together now. It's usually to practice fighting and defense. Not to have...sex."

"Don't they share a room?"

"Just right now, because you guys are here."

Ari chuckles. "You really think they aren't fucking in there? She's really pretty. There's no way they aren't."

Blue looks back at Twix. Blue's fingers curl into the soaked fabric of her top. Her eyes flick back to him. "She would've told me if they were."

"If you say so."

T

Your thumb throbs in rhythm with the steady pump of Kyle's arms. Despite pressing it into your palm to dull the pain, the ache persists. You had nicked it while sawing off your hair, and now the taste of blood lingers in your mouth. You were still lapping at the painful pulse when the three men arrived to the pond, carrying a neon orange inflatable raft. They want to test it out on the water before embarking on the 35-kilometer journey across the channel. 

It is the third day of their presence and you can honestly say you've grown more comfortable, given that Kyle has gone hunting with you a few times now. He is easy to talk to, along with Nereida. Price—however—doesn't seem intrigued by you, or maybe you are insignificant in comparison to the rest that is on his mind. That's fair. You don't all need to be friends.

They've been spending most of their time gathering food. Ghost has been helping Price hunt deer to skin and dry into jerky they can take with them. Nereida showed you a patch of wild strawberries she found yesterday, boiling them down into jams before canning them. By having food with them, they will save time from having to hunt along the way. In perfect conditions, it would be a straight path, and they could make it to the Swiss mountains within a month or two. But it won't be a straight path, and obstacles are bound to hinder them.

Kyle audibly growls and straightens, wiping at his percolated brow. "This chamber just isn't inflating."

"It must have a hole somewhere. Check the seams," Price says.

Ghost flips the half-filled raft over with ease, running his fingers along the PVC. "Here." He taps what must be a minuscule puncture because you can't see it from where you sit. 

They patch it up with the little adhesive they have. The unease is noticeable as Kyle keeps pumping in air; they only have enough to cover a few holes, if they come across more. Finally, the six-person raft is full and they toss it onto the pond. Just the sight gets you thinking of all the variables they have to think of on the open water: the weather, currents, temperature. You had a friend in high school who swam across it once. She didn't get even halfway but having to pulled out, vomiting, and near-hypothermia. Open seawater is different than a pool. Unpredictable and quick to change.

"It seems sturdy." Nereida winds an arm around her husband's waist, pressing a chaste kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Don't worry about it."

"As long as it stays sturdy."

"It will," she assures him.

The cut has crusted over by the time evening settles and you have to will yourself not to pick at it. You find yourself alone with the horse, watching the sun set behind the trees, as everyone else eats. 

"You probably don't like being tied up here, huh? You'd rather be running around." The coarse mane engrosses your fingers. Cherry bobs her head and a wet muzzle brushes your elbow. It tickles and you smile softly. "I wonder what will happen to you once they leave," you whisper. "Horses can't fit in a raft, huh?"

"No, they can't."

A hand presses into her neck beside yours, the person's arm extending over your shoulder. You crane your neck at Kyle but his eyes are on the animal, thoughtful, brows lowered. You wet your lips and step to the side to bring more space between your bodies. 

"Not hungry either?" you ask.

Finally he looks at you, lips quirked at the side. "Nah. I had a big lunch." He stops petting her and crosses his arms, chin tilting. "Ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once or twice. As a kid."

His eyes almost lean dark green in the cast of orange light, but it must be a mere illusion. "Care to go for a ride?"

His eyebrow rises expectantly. You glance back at the cabin and then at Cherry. "Why not?"

He instructs you how to get on. You grip the knob of the saddle and flex your core, hoisting yourself with more strength than you've had to use in a few days. Kyle sits behind you and grips the reins after untying her. The last time you were on a horse was for a friend's birthday party; you trekked through a ranch on a white pony. Cherry is much taller than that one was, or maybe you're not fond of being so high up. You thread your fingers through her mane.

It is a silent ride at first as you try to ignore the sting on your butt, unused to firm leather seat. He must notice your discomfort because he tells you to relax and lean back. You do, until your spine brushes against his chest. It helps a little.

Cherry trots calmly through the trees, towards the circle of stumps that marks the east. 

"Do you think she will be able to take care of herself?" you break the quiet. 

"I'm sure she will be fine. Smart girl, huh, Cherry?"

The sun has disappeared but it isn't quite dark yet. "Are you scared?"

A breathy chuckle emits from behind you. He must realize what you are referring to—scared for the journey. "Yeah, always. I mean—I'm scared about Ari. He's the last family I got, and as old as he thinks he is, he's still young and naive. I still have to make choices for him."

"I was terrified of losing Joseph," you admit, and swallow. "He was so young and fragile. It felt like...like trying to keep an egg from cracking when your hands are made of stone. But at least I never had to take him to another country."

"That was your nephew? Joseph?"

You nod. 

"Tell me about him."

You rack your brain. "Well, he was seven. And he..." You smile to yourself. "He was the pickiest eater in the world, even when we were all starving. I could not get him to eat meat unless I practically burned it. And he liked to look at bugs. I did, too, when I was young. I used to dig up worms when it rained to show him." He hums a gentle laugh behind you. You find yourself lost in the thought of it for a second. "Sometimes I...I think about how once I die, there will be no one left to remember those little things about him. Then, he will be completely gone, you know?"

You don't know why you're telling him this. You shake your head. "Sorry."

"Don't be. We gotta talk about shit like that or else we'll go crazy."

"I'm pretty sure I'm already crazy."

"Probably." A deer passes to the left and Cherry startles, but he is quick to soothe her with a flick of the reins and a stern—easy. She settles. "Are you scared?" he asks after a moment.

"Of what?"

"Of traveling so far."

"Well, I don't know if Ghost..." you trail off, absorbing the tone of his voice. You stiffen. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I mean how we're all leaving in a month."

"Wait—stop." You grip his hand over the rein with more force than necessary, urging him to bring Cherry to a halt. You twist your spine and gape at him. "What are you talking about?"

He eyes you with a frown, and rubs his neck. "Shit. I thought he already told you."

"No, he didn't. Tell me," you demand.

He clears his throat. "He, uh, agreed to come this morning, but only if we take another month to prepare and shit. Get his daughter ready, sort things out."

You try not tremble in anger as his words sink in, clenching your hands as your breath picks up. "Take me back," you breathe out, brain racing. "I want to go back now."

The ride back is silent. You feel shaken. Your nail digs deep into the nick on your thumb unthinkingly until there is a smear of blood over your fingers. The others are getting ready for bed when the two of you return, moon bright. You bite your tongue until Ghost leaves to his room, then you follow him, closing the door as gently as you can behind you.

He is halfway through peeling off his socks and stuffing them in his boots when you approach. "What happened to being a man of your word?" 

He looks up, resting his palms on his parted knees, looking far too relaxed for your liking. 

When he doesn't respond, you add, "You were supposed to tell me. You said you fucking would."

Your voice is low but harsh.

He stands, a calm understanding washing through his eyes. "I was about to tell you."

You throw up your arms but try to stay quiet. "Bullshit. You're just saying that now. You've had all day to tell me."

"I was waiting for the right time."

"You think I can't handle it," you accuse, an ugly snarl on your face. "That I don't deserve to be apart of these conversations even after everything I have done for you, and for her. I saved her life! You get pissed at me for not telling you about stupid things, meanwhile you don't communicate something so important like we are leaving with them in a month to fucking Switzerland. Does Blue know? Or do you keep your own blood in the dark, too?"

He growls quietly and takes hold of your chin, tilting your gaze to his. His touch is firm but far from bruising. "I am not lying to you. I wanted to have a conversation right now, where it could just be us. And no—I haven't told her. How I explain this to my child is not your concern." There is a command in his voice that forces you to calm down some, but your breath is still warm through your nose. He moves his hand to gently thumb a strand of shortened hair off your forehead, staring at it for a second, before gripping your chin again. "There is nothing I think you cannot handle. Now, who told you about this?"

Blotches of red crawl over your cheeks. "It doesn't...it doesn't matter."

He is visibly unsatisfied. He taps his thumb against your chin. "Tell me."

"It was...Kyle," you concede in an exhale. "He assumed I already knew."

His eyes darken. "It wasn't his place to assume."

"He didn't mean to." You reach up to pry his hand off, and he relents, leaving your jaw feeling sore. You rub it. "Why a month?" You try to change the topic.

He takes a deep, steadying breath and looks away, jaw flexing. "She needs time. I want to prepare her for all possible outcomes. I still don't think she is ready, but that doesn't matter. There won't be another opportunity like this in the future. I have to make her ready." He sits down on the edge of the bed and sits his elbows on his thighs, collecting his thoughts before adding, "And the weather is a big factor. Just because we have means to get across the water doesn't mean it will happen safely. The current is most predictable in July and August. We will wait until then."

You mentally sort through everything he is saying, willing yourself not to linger on the fact that you are beyond scared. Scared to leave the place you have finally felt safe in. Scared to clearly be the odd one out again. A tag-along. Everyone else in this group has a loved one looking out for them. You have yourself. You don't know if you have Ghost, really—not when Blue is the one he loves. His allegiance can only go so far.

"Okay," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. "A month, then. What about shelter? The nights will be our most vulnerable."

"We'll look for the safest places for the night. There'd be seven of us, so plenty of eyes to keep watch."

"And what if we run into a horde?"

"Well, we have plenty of ammo now for that." He flicks his eyes up to yours. "Thanks to you."

You nibble your cheek, palming your chest as if to calm your heart. 

"A month," he reminds you. "We will account for everything."

"Okay," you say again. There is a tinge of embarrassment over your outburst, but he doesn't seem fazed, as if you hadn't just barged in the room yelling at him. "Okay."

A click of his tongue. "Any more questions?"

"Not...not for now, I guess."

A few silent beats pass. The tension has left the room, leaving you with a wave of fatigue. Ghost must notice because he rises, gesturing to the bed. "Go on, then." 

The bed is yours again. Too exhausted to question it, you slip under the quilt, curling into a fetal position by the slanted ceiling. It's best to enjoy the warmth before you're back on the move. A week journeying through the woods was the worst you'd ever endured, barely surviving. Now, it'll be months, or however long it takes to reach the goddamn Swiss mountains.

The light flicks off. There is a groan in the mattress and heady warmth spills over you. Your eyes fly open. "What are you doing?"

"Getting some sleep."

You turn around to see him lying beside you, flat on his back, with his arms crossed behind his head. "Together?"

"Clearly neither of us fancies the floor."

You flush, feeling his firm thigh brush against yours. "Just... keep to your side."

"I'll be a gentleman, if you're worried."

"I'm not," you mumble. "How do you even sleep in that thing, by the way?"

"Like a baby."

"Don't you think it's weird that Kyle has seen you without it and I haven't?"

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, Twix."

"And mental sanity doesn't suit you, Simon."

"Don't recall giving you permission to use that name."

"What, only your old captain gets to use it? How close were the two of you, exactly?"

Teasing him feels better than you're willing to admit.

He grunts. A pillow is thrashed against the side of your face. "Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," you bite into the pillow.

Your instinct is to flinch closer to the edge, though it is difficult given the small size of the bed and the unnatural size of him. Your knees float off the mattress. Still, his sprawled-out position leaves points of connection. Your back, his elbow. Your feet, his calf. Small touches that do a surprisingly good job at soothing the mess in your brain.

You awake. Warm and rested.

Safe.

Morning light streams in, turning the backs of your eyelids red. Your face nudges forward until your nose brushes against fabric—a shirt. Awareness settles in slowly. Your toes stretch and brush against another set of toes. You realize you’re curled close against someone.

He’s still on his back, his right arm draped across your waist, fingertips resting on your exposed hip. Your breath hitches, and you do your best not to flinch. Your face is nuzzled into his chest, close enough to discern ribs from muscle. His steady breathing and gentle rumbles indicate he’s still asleep. You’re ready to peel yourself away when you notice your leg is on top of his, practically trapping him.

Fuck.

You stay still, devising a plan to extricate yourself without him noticing the position you're in. Then, in one swift motion, you leap up, removing all contact, and breathe hard as if ripped from a nightmare.

His eyes open and he swears. "Jesus. What was that?"

"Just a dream," you lie. "Sorry for waking you."

You jump out of the bed and practically run out before he can say anything; before he can realize how odd it'd be for you to have a dream when you haven't had one since... since staying in his room.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and grip the counter, knuckles whitening in the attempt to erode the feel of his warmth that seems to linger. A lump is forced down your throat as you lean back against the wall and close your eyes for a moment. When they reopen, you look down and lift your shirt, only to find the indent of strong fingertips brandishing your plush hip. Jesus. Your stomach knots and unknots. 

"You didn't like that," you whisper to yourself. You brush your thumb over the marks, gently at first, then palming them hard as if to erase them. You drop your shirt and look at the mirror. "You did not like that."

Before someone can stumble upon you talking to yourself, you comb your fingers through tousled strands and slip out. It seems most others are awake. How could you and Ghost have slept so long? Usually, the two of you are up with the sun. 

"Hey. Morning," you greet when you spot Blue on the porch, belly down, as she plays checkers with Kyle's nephew. She glances over her shoulder. Something in her bright eyes seems...off, but you can't put your finger on it.

"Hi. Is Ghost up yet?"

"Hm? Oh, uh—not sure. I didn't check, really."

"Okay." She looks back at the game and says nothing else. You feel as though she saw right through you. Or maybe that boy has told her everything. Surely he knows about Ghost's plans? Kyle had to have told him. Maybe that is why Blue seems upset, but like he said, it isn't your place to say anything. 

You are itching for a hunt. 

It feels urgent, for some reason. Like you want to get out of here before Ghost can be up, too. You find Kyle and he suggests that the two of you take Cherry so you can get go further south where he claims there is a meadow to look for deer. It is difficult to ride with him behind you and a bow on your back, so he wears it for you. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head.

"Awfully quiet this morning. Penny for your thoughts?"

"I talked to him," is what you give. "Last night."

"Ah. How'd that go?"

"It was fine. I mean, I am getting used to the idea."

"That's good. It'll be worth it, you know. Once we get there. Finally get to have a semblance of a normal life."

A normal life. You almost snort at the thought. 

The morning grows longer, and not even the haircut can save you from the sweat that gathers. You make it to the meadow after an hour of horseback that leaves your thighs bristling. He helps you down and ties Cherry to a tree. You wade through tall, bright grasses that sway in the humid breeze. It looks vaguely familiar, stirring something in your gut that has your boots frozen for a moment. 

Kyle looks back at you, noticing that you've stopped following. "Good?"

"I just—I think I've been here once before. When I was on my own. I came this way." Your eyes scan the surrounding trees, where the meadow feeds into the forest, and an a gnarly oak with distinctive branches catches your eye. "I definitely have been here. I slept in that tree."

You push into the meadow, shaking off the memory. Staying close to Kyle, you listen as he lightly shares memories from the military, careful not to startle any potential deer. He talks about his time in Afghanistan, mentioning that his brother was also there, but at a different base. Kyle didn't even know his brother had died until weeks later because he was out in the field.

"After Afghanistan is when I met Ghost the first time."

"Oh?"

He nods. "He was my lieutenant when I went to Russia. I was scared shitless of him at first. I mean, he had a bit of a reputation and I was only 22."

"He was good at what he did," you say.

"More than that. People said he was up to some shit outside of what he did, but that was just rumors."

You think you spot a streak of gold through the grass, but it is just a stalk of wild wheat. You look back at him. "What do you mean?"

"May have heard a thing or two about him killing a guy off-duty. Of course, unconfirmed, otherwise he wouldn't have been enlisted again."

He killed someone? Like actual murder? You're about to ask more, your mind flashing back to your face pressed against him an hour earlier. Then you spot a deer. Kyle sees it too and motions for you to stay quiet. Your boots are nearly silent as you draw an arrow, squinting to see clearer. There are three deer: an adult female and two fawns. You draw the string and aim for the adult, the easier target.

"I'll get the doe," you whisper.

"Gotcha."

The beady black eyes turn your way, and you hesitate for a moment. There's movement, a flash of grey, and the doe snaps her eyes in another direction. What is she looking at? Your brows furrow, arrow following her gaze, when the answer appears: a Grey launching toward the deer. The three deer run off, and you release the arrow, aiming for the Grey's head instead.

"Motherfucker. Ruined the kill," Kyle mutters.

You weave toward the corpse, surprised to see such a fast one alone, indicating a new infection. The stench is pungent, enveloping you in a thick cloud. You shudder. The Grey writhes, your arrow lodged in its neck instead of its brain. You draw another arrow and aim when a hand suddenly grips your shoulder.

"Twix," Kyle breathes in your ear.

"What?" 

You look away from the Grey and follow Kyle's gaze, your eyes widening in horror as you realize the terrible smell isn't from this single creature. It's hundreds. A dark, grey mist that unfurls through the trees. A growing chorus of agony as their tattered bodies collide—some limping, others hurtling forward in a grotesque dance, but all converging on the meadow.

[hanasnx]

“ WHEN THE NIGHT CALLS ” — jason todd.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content ノ p in v ノ objectification ノ possession ノ roofie mention but not in use ノ gun is involved but no gun play ノ bondage ノ size difference ノ name calling: bitch. NOTES: for @xstarkillerx who drove me wild with one single line.

It takes a lot to please the ARKHAM KNIGHT, most will never know what his approval is like. You are of the few that receive it consistently. Sometimes it's even multiple times a night, frequently.

The HQ is full of bustling militia, passing around beer through strobing lights they crafted from old torches. Their leader was reluctant to let them celebrate, and without several external factors he never would've conceded, but you have a way of persuasion. "If you don't let your men cut loose once in a while, you'll overwork them. They're about to roll into Gotham, let them have this." you believe you had said. Apparently, he'd seen reason through his frighteningly iron grip on this project, or he'd seen your tits in his favorite cami. Either way, you pat yourself on the back.

Your visitation to the keg was met with several hungry men staring you down, offering you compliment atop compliment, one even brave enough to clutch his hand over yours on your cup to bring to the mouth of the nozzle for a refill. They're not stupid, they know you're spoken for—at least in some small way. The most clueless ones may be in denial over the fact you have a special relationship with their boss, but for most it's clear to see that the Arkham Knight stakes a strong claim over you. It's reinforced by your honeyed verbal gratitude towards these desperate men that's immediately followed by your loyal sauntering right over to where the Knight sits. Some deflate with a disappointment knowing you're sweet on them only to return to where you belong, others are smarter than that.

You tilt your head at your disinterested lover, slouched and knees spread in some makeshift throne the boys threw together. The mouth of his heavy handgun strokes up and down his thigh as the digital eyes of his mask watch past you as you approach him. Those gloved fingers tap in a graceful line at the armrest, beginning from his pinky to his thumb in a wave. Despite your hard work in coordinating this, he doesn't seem to be having any fun.

Your thumb swipes at the liquid at the corner of your parted lips, sweeping the bottom one to the side, letting it bob back in place. A motion he takes note of, and finally recognizes you're coming his way, visibly adjusting in his seat to afford you some room. You take the invitation, twirling on your heel to seat on his other thigh, the muscle pressed flush against your sex through your little skirt. A protective arm rounds you, resting the weight of his hand on your bare skin, the tip of his finger toying with your skirt hem. "I don't like that you wore this around them." he speaks into your ear, low and digitally grated. You both know the kind of people he's had to hire, and he's not fucking stupid. His men look at you the way dogs look at fresh red meat.

"I figured it would be alright. You know how to break a jaw, remember?" you reply slyly, an impish grin stretching your smile into something near dazzling. You raise your cup to take a swig, but you glance at him confusedly when the tip of his gun intercepts you, guiding the rim away from your mouth and back onto your lap. With furrowed brows, you inspect the foam of the beer, wondering if he'd seen someone slip you something while they were giving you a refill. Would they be that stupid to do it in front of their boss with eyes like a hawk? You don't know, but you set it off to the side just to be sure.

"Don't like that I'm supervising this thing either. We should be tying up the loose ends." he murmurs, tucking you further into his hard armor. The grip on your thigh suggests he wants to do more than tie up loose ends. A familiar thrill shoots up you, centering in your core, that sensational sting of a memory roots there, making sure you remember what it's like to be filled.

"Why? You wanna tie me up or something?" you suggest playfully.

You didn't think he'd take you seriously. His quarters don't have a headboard, but he didn't seem too worried about that. "Oh—Oh! Jay... Jason, fuck..." you sigh, a dense and gooey pleasure between your legs rolling your pretty eyes into the back of your head. The noises of sex fill the room, skin slapping skin, drenched pussy getting fucked loud and proud.

"Yeah? Yeah, pretty girl, you like that?" he replies with a haughty snicker, peeling your tepid hips off the sheet to meet his own. Big hands grasp the flesh of your backside, lifting and yanking you onto his dick as your tits bounce from the motions. "So wet. You were asking for this, struttin' around in that little outfit—" An obscene groan reverberates from his throat at the memory, throwing his head back as his whole body flexes. Your bound hands lay underneath you, rough rope biting into your skin in a most delicious way. "Fuck, baby, push me off if you don't want me to cum all up in this cunt." You mewl pathetically, squirming in his grip only for him to laugh at you. His gorgeous body rolls under your gaze, deliberate and slow, licking your insides with his fat cock. "Yeah, bitch, take it. Take it just like a fucking fleshlight. Let those cucks know you're cuffed."

[k0nanharv3y]

Tim Is a Wayne. AU

Au where Tim joins the batfam early but decides to have a simple life

Most "Tim joins the batfam early" fics end with Jason never going to Ethiopia and Tim becoming Robin while Jason becomes Flamebird or Red Hood. And I'm usually fine with that

But

Listen to me carefully

What if... What if Tim doesn't become Robin? 😦😦😦😦😦

LISTEN TO ME

PUT DOWN THAT ROCK

So... yeah, the kid likes to run around Gotham and take pictures, but let's be honest, Tim is an amateur, the only times he plays the hero are to protect himself or because the situation requires it

So... Tim keeps "sneaking" around to take pictures of Batman and Robin, and I say "sneaking" because even if he walked out the door it wouldn't change the fact that everyone already knows. And Tim doesn't want to become Robin, in canon he never wanted to be Robin, but Batman needed a Robin, but since Jason never died, then Tim doesn't have to become Robin

Do you get my point?

No? I don't care

There are two paths here, Tim becomes a spy for the Bats and now takes pictures of villains and deals in illegal stuff and... Well, he's an Oracle but physical (SOMEONE GIVE ME TIM A SPY, I AM BEGGING YOU) and now he has backup in case he falls off a building or someone notices him, and now he has equipment that doesn't consist of black clothes and worn out sneakers, but he never becomes a vigilante who fights bad guys, he's... Natasha Romanoff but without the fighting skills

And the other way... Tim... has a normal life 😦😦😦😦😦😦😦 as normal as being Bruce Wayne's son would allow him, he goes to school even though he's ahead, he has two brothers who love him and are willing to kill/die for him, he has Alfred (which, being the only member who doesn't stay up all night hitting people, he appreciates him and teaches him things about life [TIM KNOWS HOW TO COOK LIKE ALFRED, SOMEONE, I BEG YOU TO GIVE ME THAT] and among all his grandchildren, Tim is the favorite). And he has Bruce, who is a good father and is thrilled that one of his sons didn't take his path and is safe at home :D

Here are two more paths from "Tim Joining The Batfam Early" and that is... Jason's Death. It didn't happen: It's a lot of what you read above, not a lot of changes and that's fine. And... Jason does die

But Bruce doesn't get another Robin and Tim doesn't become Robin because his brother just died in that suit... a lot of Angst there. And Bruce doesn't break down because his family won't let him, he can't break down because his other son needs him. And when Jason comes back the first thing he wants to do is see his little brother

And there's plenty of angst there for them to feed on

But let's leave the angst aside, let's get to the fun part

Jason never dies and Tim is kidnapped

Option A) Tim stays silent as he waits for whoever comes to get him out of here, staring at anyone who passes by

Option B) He unties himself and escapes to the roof, waiting for whoever is coming for him to appear

Tim finishes high school and goes to Ivy University and is accepted with a scholarship and the family is happy

Tim welcomes Damian with open arms because he always wanted a little brother (he wanted to stop being treated like the baby of the family, please, he's 15 now) and Damian wants to hate this kid because it seems like everyone in the family loves him, but he's the person who gives the most stability to the mansion and the family and he's the one who convinced Bruce to let him have a cat

Tim is still the smartest of the 3 brothers, he helps out with whatever he can, Superboy has a weird crush on him, he solves all of Nygma's riddles and brags about it on social media, he does his internships at WE but not out of necessity but because it's his father's company. Ra's has his eye on him for some reason ????? But fuck everyone, Ra's looks at him too much and his family will make sure that's the last thing he does

And Tim... he lives a normal life. He goes to college, he has friends outside of the masks, he is loved and he loves and... It's okay

And WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT IS THIS THOUGHT???? TIM BECOMING RED HOOD????????? WHAT?????? that's another post, lol

///

Someone made an addition and now is canon cuz damn it was good

I made a part 2, but that one has angst cuz i feed on that

Part 3 cuz I got this great idea

[auspicioustidings]

Kinktober Day 31

SUGGESTED POTENTIAL NON-CON

You have completed your contract admirably soldier, I think our mutts may miss you - Laswell

It’s strange. You wake up without your alarm in your own bed and it’s strange. You go put the kettle on for a cup of tea and it’s strange.

You are no longer under contract for the Kennel. The month had been defined as 30 days, so here you are with more money than you know what to do with, a body that is aching from all the hedonism of the past weeks and an utter uncertainty about what comes next.

You suppose what comes next is taking a week off to recover and not have to think about it yet.

So you showered (had you had to wash your own body at all in the last month or had there always been someone to do it for you?), dressed and went to get groceries. You caught up on TV shows mostly once everything was packed away.

It was sort of nice having alone time but sort of not knowing that it was probably going to be like this for the foreseeable future.

You had still been contracted at the end of the day, so it wasn’t like you were suddenly going to develop the ability to date. It was just sex. Just a release for people who needed it and were too dangerous to get it from civilians.

So why did you feel so conflicted about the likelihood of never seeing them again?

—

The day went quickly, but the evening lasted forever as you laid on the sofa and just tried to process. At least until you heard something from your bedroom. Could have been nothing, but you didn’t have a veritable shit ton of military and special forces training to dismiss things that could be nothing.

You had checked your house as soon as you had gotten back and it hadn’t been touched, so you knew there was a gun safely stowed away in a drawer of the coffee table. You got it out slowly and stood, going to investigate the bedroom.

Now you had never actually seen Ghost masked up before, it wasn’t like he cared about hiding his identity in the Kennel and the people he was around weren’t in any position to judge his scars, but you’d recognise those eyes anywhere. He was looking at the photo on your bedside table, you and your cat (she had died a few years back and it didn’t seem fair to adopt another when your work meant they would be staying with a neighbour most of the time).

“Gonna shoot me princess?” he asked, still looking at the photo.

“The Kennel shouldn’t be escapable” you said, keeping your gun trained on him.

“It’s not. Not if I was trying to get out alone. But give me a group of very motivated soldiers? Becomes a lot easier then” he said as he placed the photo back where it was and turned to you, arms crossed. “Get your sweet arse packed, I’m taking you home.”

“Nice try” you said, both hands steadying the gun.

“Gonna shoot me?”

“I don’t want to Ghost. You need to leave.”

“Then sink a bullet into me princess, because I’m not leaving without you and I don't much care if you're conscious for the trip.”

You aimed for his shoulder, just a warning graze but it must have hurt like a bitch as it took off a chunk of skin at the surface and his body jolted with the force. Good thing you picked a rural house, there were farms around here so gun shots weren’t totally uncommon with critters coming to feast on chickens.

“Yes you are.”

“Hmm” he chuffed, seemingly a little surprised you had actually shot him but not at all put out by it. “You never did let Mace fuck you with a gun did you? Could be fun you know.”

You were hopeful that it didn’t show on your face that your dumb hind brain found the idea a little hot. Mace had threatened it when you were playing the part of the doe-eyed step-daughter who idolised a daddy that definitely wanted to fuck her. Would he have went through with it?

“And if I said red?” you asked because there in lay the issue.

Under contract you had some protection. You did not imagine the same would apply if he took you back now.

You were furious with yourself when your wrists were twisted and Price disarmed you. You should have been paying attention behind you, should have considered that Ghost would hardly have come alone.

“Depends on my mood sweetheart. If I really think you need it I’ll let you safeword.”

You went for him, tried to get him down so you could rush past and get out of the situation. But your hand to hand was rusty and he was stronger than you, so it didn’t take him long to get you pinned against him and restrained.

“So what you just kidnap me? You’re supposed to fucking run the Kennel but I’m starting to think you should be a resident sir.”

“So am I sweetheart. Of course if you lived there then being a resident doesn’t sound so bad.”

“I’m not spending the rest of my life in a prison because you want a personal whore.”

“You’d be free to come and go so long as you came back to us” Ghost said, calmly watching the whole exchange.

“And what? I just get a brief everyday of who I’ve to service?” you asked, bitterness flooding your tone.

God it was so stupid. The deal was technically good. You got to live a life of luxury, got freedom to come and go and got to be intimate with people that you foolishly held affection for. Would it be so bad? So what if it wasn’t real? So what if you were just a means to an end for them while you would be doomed to pine forever for reciprocation of what you were sure would bloom into love?

“You’d get briefs from people who want to spend time with you so you can choose if you want to or not” Price answered, squeezing you a little.

“And if I never say yes?”

“Unlikely. We all owe you orgasms after being so mean with them yesterday, don't you want what you're owed?” Ghost laughed.

“I told you I’d only listen to a safeword if I thought you really needed it sweetheart. What you’re describing is a situation where what you’d need is a good fucking to remember who you belong to.”

“I belong to myself John Price.”

“Technically that’s true in the eyes of the law and God” Ghost said, considering, sly.

You could feel Price harden against your ass and you made a sound of protest.

“Can’t help it sweetheart, he’s got wedding bells in my head.”

“I- excuse me?”

“Seems a fair trade. You’d agree to belong to me and by extension all my dogs in the Kennel, I’d agree to belong to you and by extension they would too. Fuck you’d look stunning in white” he groaned, hips rutting against you.

“White?” Ghost said with a smirk.

“Doesn’t count if she was under contract. I’m sure Farah will lend her something borrowed if it comes down to it.”

—

She did. You wore a little reddish bead on a necklace on your wedding day. Price barely made it though the ceremony given that he was rock solid the whole time. Fucking wife kink.

It took place in the Kennel of course so everybody could attend. Things had changed. Velikan was a temporary resident now, mostly because he enjoyed trailing a step behind you when you went out shopping. Soap was permanent on account of Ghost saying he was sick of not having 24 hour access to his holes. You’d have thought it was romantic from how Soap preened about it. Valeria was gone but she visited sometimes. That iron control of herself she had meant the Kennel didn't have much justification to keep her locked up.

You met Nikolai in person and discovered him and Price made a hell of a tag team.

And you got to see what it was like when someone new was brought in with Kreuger. It wasn't pretty. You wondered if they had all been as untameably violent and angry about it when they first got here. If not for Mace and König you weren't sure the guy would even be unchained ever, but to your surprise they gelled well with him and turned out very good at keeping him in check.

By the time there was a second wedding he had calmed a lot. Enough that he got to attend with everybody else when Farah got a ring on Alex (another ring you thought given the ink that looped around his cock).

The only mention of the gunshot wound Ghost had was jealous looks from Nikto. Sometimes you thought about that little brand sitting on Ghost's skin and how it might look burned into yours. There were still silvery marks from the knife and you were almost sad thinking about how they would likely fade entirely.

You didn’t stop working, but then you were one of the monsters now so may as well do what you were trained for. Your radio and signals room was state of the art and half the kit in it was definitely not legal, but at this point legal was a pretty meaningless concept. You did horrible things, but at least there were always warm bodies to keep the nightmares away. Plus you had a little fluff ball companion keeping you company since a cat had shown up out of the blue (you were fairly certain exactly who had brought her in but he never mentioned it).

Sometimes you got whisked away. Ale and Rudy took you to Ale’s family vineyard for a week in the Mexican sun. Calisto surprised you with a romantic night in Paris. Keegan shoved you in a ridiculous dress so he could show you off to his team and you paid him back for every dig he took at you that night. Gaz took you to a football game during which him, Nova and Price argued the whole damn time. Lots of holidays, lots of laughter and dare you say contented happiness.

Now you just had to avoid giving in to that pesky fucking pregnancy kink half of them had.

[feroluce]

Oh my gosh the way the Pop-Up Shop event ended and what it hinted at that's going on rn, and what it might imply about what's in store for the next time we see Sampo, I'm so excited AAAAAAA

Because it seems it really IS our Sampo, and whereas before I was absolutely delighted by the thought that he was possibly getting fucked with by some outside influence, and that was why he was saying such strange things... There's nothing quite like that going on here. There's no memetic virus messing with his head. There's no imposter, no possession, no nothing.

Just Sampo, and the ominous, all-consuming dread that hangs over his head like a guillotine, as he willingly walks right into what he is sure is a trap. ♡

Because this event was weird right off the bat, yeah? Sampo invites us in on a business deal that won't make him any money? The hell???

And I was just waiting on pins and needles for it to make sense, and oh, I was not disappointed at all. Because I've got a nice meta post about it over here, but Sampo actually DOESN'T make a lot of money most of the time- but he does always get something out of his dealings. He works for favors and good will and networking, but never for nothing. And it was the same here!

Sampo didn't make any money with this little business venture because that wasn't what he needed from it. That was never his goal to begin with. He just needed something entertaining.

Sampo has the key to get into the tavern's basement where Sparkle has been keeping his mask for him, but he still needs to be let into the front door of the tavern itself. The fun stories he got from this event were his entry fee. He leaves at the end because he's probably already on his way to Epsilon, where the World's End Tavern should be.

So that explains part of what was so strange this event. It's the rest of his ooc tendencies that have me like foaming at the mouth though because AAAAAAAAAA

There's long been hints of...some? kind of strain between Sampo and the rest of the Masked Fools. Like it starts all the way back in Belobog's main quest with the big infamous fourth-wall breaking sequence, where Sampo talks some shit.

And it continues in the Aetherium Wars event, where we finally get the confirmation that Sampo is a Masked Fool and even get to see him interact with Giovanni, one of his brethren! And where Sampo talks more shit. He also leaves the trailblazer a warning against Sparkle, who they hadn't met yet, and probably the Masked Fools in general.

And for some strange reason, it seems to be popular fanon that Sampo like. Talks a lot of shit? Or is rude in general? Like I feel like I see a lot of jokes about if Hook says a cuss word, it was probably his fault. But Sampo is actually pretty polite with everyone. I think the only time we really see him be harsh is when he has to set some hard boundaries in the museum event. Otherwise, he conducts himself like a model friendly businessman. Like he IS super shady and slimy, but he's still polite about it. I'm pretty sure the only time he actually talks any shit, and so bluntly, is about the Masked Fools or Epsilon as a whole. He really seems to have some sort of beef with them.

There's also his hilarious relationship with Sparkle, which I'm including for consideration because we don't know how common people like her are in the Masked Fools, so she might represent how Sampo interacts with a lot of them. ...But I'm pretty sure Sampo's grudge with her runs deeper than that anyway jdksajfdkljas

She's so funny I hope she fucks with him more FJDKSJAKD

Anyway, the point is, Sampo doesn't seem to see eye-to-eye with a lot of the rest of Aha's followers. And it was never hinted at before the pop-up shop event, but now I'm wondering if it might be like. An actual dangerous sort of situation.

Because during those brief packaging sequences, you get some. Pretty wild text dropped on you. There was actually a really cool explanation for it by another user already! But basically, all of the phrases are more fourth-wall breakage. They're mostly in-game achievements...except for one.

"This must be a trap create"

We never get to see the rest of the phrase. Just "This must be a trap create."

That is the only one we don't have an explanation for yet, at least as far as I know.

AN EDIT: Thank you to @/kittaykattz for this one, because it looks like someone DID find the source of this line. Unfortunately, it only came up in my search after I looked for the full phrase. I couldn't find it on the wiki before orz And yet this somehow does NOT make it any less ominous ajfdklsjkl The full phrase is "This must be a trap created by a Masked Fool!" and it comes from another in-game achievement, "Boxes and Ladders." Which is really cool, because I had figured the last line must be something from Penacony, since it was the only area not represented so far. So in that way, it fits perfectly with the rest of the text. Now we have one achievement from every area of the game, which fits with the theme that Sampo has been following the Astral Express, the trailblazer specifically. It's the way that it doesn't fit that's the weird part though. Because the rest of the lines that come from in-game achievements are all titles; that's why they were so much easier to find. For some reason, Hoyo saw fit to single this one out. They didn't use a title. They specifically chose the line about falling into a trap set by a Masked Fool, a trap with seemingly no way out, where one's only choice is to take a leap of faith and pray to make it out ok in the end.

Love that. Absolutely love that. That's so fucking tasty, I will be daydreaming for days on end now about Sampo finding himself in a horrible situation with no way out where all he can do is make a desperate attempt and pray to whatever might listen (probably not Aha fjaksljdk) that he'll survive it WHEEEEEE

Because Sampo talks so strangely throughout the whole event, but it gets worse day by day, morose and morbid and dreading and sometimes even almost like he's warning the trailblazer against something about to happen.

I've already lovingly discussed it in an analysis about Sampo's name (alias included) but like. There certainly are some fun connections there. The Sampo of myth was smashed and lost to the sea. Poisson was flooded. Brueghel died suddenly and left a final painting of a storm at sea unfinished.

The Masked Fools are referred to with imagery of water and the sea. And frequently so.

And so I do wonder what Sampo knows, and what he's expecting to happen when he gets to that tavern at the end of the world. If maybe he thinks he's walking right into a trap, and is doing it willingly, doing it anyway, because, well.

Belobog is on the line.

And Sampo has already proven he seems so ready to do whatever it takes to protect it.

[postmoe]

Yandere: Squid Games Satoru Gojo

I'm trying to get a fic done by valentines day but i'm worried i won't have it in time :(

just some bedtime thoughts. I have a lot more but i am e x h a u s t e d. might do other characters and games, or more 'Toru!

murder, killing, groping, red light green light

.

For so long now, Satoru has been harassing you. He's sabotaged your work, your friendships, your incomes, all so you'd be forced to fall into him and accept his kindness. It almost works, too, you almost find yourself begging for him to make it all stop, to help you.

Then, you're given an opportunity of a lifetime. You're invited to a game, a shit load of money up for grabs. They usually offer people down on their luck to give you a fighting chance. It's perfect. You need the money, he doesn't so he wouldn't be invited.

You should know your stalker better by now.

Being one of the richest families in the world, Satoru obviously knows about these games. He couldn't care less, it's just an event for billionaires to flaunt their wealth and make fun of the poor.

Then, your name comes up on the listing. Backgrounds, numbers, names and pictures appear for those who want to gamble.

Oh, his poor darling! He's going to have the spy's life he had tail you ruined for not reporting this to him.

Only to see the spy is also part of the games.

It's all too easy to get in. Almost everyone here wants Satoru gone, his business a threat. When he says he wants to be part of the games, they're shocked, confused, but no one objects.

Throw your life away? Go for it.

Satoru Gojo doesn't care about his life. He only cares about being next to you. If this is where you two meet your end so be it. Dead or alive, you'll be in his arms~

...

When you get an opportunity to escape your stalker, to get a shit load of money that you can take home and help your sick family with, all for playing some games, how can you say no?

Satoru won't leave you alone, but, they say no one will be able to follow you here, only participants in the game will allowed to go to the venue. It's crazy, you wouldn't normally step out of your comfort zone, but here you are!

Being drugged and essentially kidnapped is not what you thought would happen.

You wake up on a bunk bed, groggy, in different attire with hundreds of other people in the room. Hands feel over yourself to gauge that everything is in place.

Looking down, you see a number on your chest, "456".

The people around you are also numbered, confused, and heading to the centre of the room.

You're one of the few that stay on your bed, legs crossed, waiting for an explanation.

People in pink suits with shapes on their masks and guns, literal weaponry enter from the door. Contestants demand answers, pink people remain calm, and by the end of it, a large, clear piggy bank descends from the ceiling with a fun, little tune.

You jump off your bed in awe, is that thing really going to be full by the end of the games?

That kind of money seems impossible.

There's a tap on your shoulder, your head whipping around to see who wants your attention.

Satoru, fucking, Gojo. You're stalker. Who just so happens to be number 001, because he's just that perfect.

"Yo!" He greets, as if this was expected. He even got his fucking, circular, black glasses in.

Your eyebrows furrow and you hiss at him, "What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to be allowed in."

He taps at his number proudly, "I'm a player, see? They couldn't keep me away even if they wanted to."

Your fists clench in anger and frustration, "You don't even need the money, arsehole. Quit."

"I'm not here for the money," his hands come to your face, fingers starting to brush through the fringe of your hair, "I'm here for you-"

"Don't touch me!" Some people are looking your way, you don't care, maybe the staff will do something, "You already ruined my life. Just let me do this."

He laughs at you, hands in his pockets as he leans back on his heels, "Oh, honeypie, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into. If only you took your place by my side when you had the chance~"

They announce the first game is about to commence, you just huff and hit your shoulder against his arm as you stomp passed him.

.

Red Light Green Light. How nostalgic, a game that always made your stomach curl as you thought of creatures like weeping angels.

Satoru was a few people away, stretching his limbs as he grins and winks at you. You don't acknowledge him, keeping your gaze straight ahead.

The first few rounds are successful, it isn't until a quarter in that someone missteps.

Gunshots ring out, blood splatters, and the ground goes silent.

...

Before the screaming and running take place. You were isolated enough that no one hit you, only a few getting shot before your eyes, most being picked off behind you.

You couldn't believe what was happening.

When the doll turns its head around again, you stay still.

Satoru stands in front of you, unfazed by all the terror. He keeps a casual pose as he says, "There's a timer up there," your eyes see it, behind the doll, "If you don't make it over the line by the end, you'll die too."

Green light, he takes your hand and you start off walking. Tears now trickle down your cheeks, voice soft in a whimper, "Are they really dead?"

Red light. You both stay silent and still.

Green light, he makes you walk a bit faster, "Yeah, they are. It seems they're not playing around here."

Red light. You're standing beside a body, the man groaning, begging to be helped.

Green light, Satoru ignores him and you both run. Just before red light, he spins you around and holds you close to him, chest pressed against chest. You see the piles of corpses against the doors you came through, eyes widening. He speaks into your hair, "I'll protect you, though. We can get through this together."

You turn and jog away when it's safe, "You're way too calm about all this."

Red light, he has you in his arms again, face buried in your neck. His mouth is open, tongue licking and slobbering on your skin while you can do nothing about it.

The clock is ticking down, and as you're getting closer and closer to the line, he's slowing you down and hanging off of you, "I don't care about those people. Why do you? They're strangers after."

"People were just killed, Satoru! We could be next."

He holds you still, a few metres away from the line. The clock is ticking down, multiple rounds go through but he uses the moment to grope you, squeeze your flesh, kiss and bite your neck, "Nah, I won't let that happen. Just stick with me and you'll be fine."

One minute left, one minute and you either die or survive. You remember you're not just here to get away from him, you're here for the money that could help your family. To restart your lives.

"I don't mind, though. I'd be happy to die with you in my arms, too. Some people say I'm picky but when it comes to you, I'll do anything."

30 seconds, the light goes green, he's not moving. You have to stop your jaw from trembling so hard, "F-Fine. Fine! Please, let me go so we can get across!"

Red light. There's no way. This psychopath just killed you.

Green light. He laughs, picking you up and sprinting with long strides, making it over with one second to spare.

You fall to your knees when he sets you down. The stragglers are being picked off. He bends over to steal your line of sight, "I'm so happy! You really know how to drive the suspense."

He's laughing his head off, your mourning these people's lives and your freedom.

[cowbell-ghuleh]

Birmingham ritual thoughts and spoilers...

So the negative just to get it out the way...

The Queue...

Horrible queue experience... Was directed into the standing only queue, was booted out after an hour. Moved to seated queue only to get stuck next to a transphobe who spent the next hour and a half ranting about trans people, "wokeness", and everyone else being sheep/ NPCs / whatever the buzzword is now... And I'm so annoyed I gave them and their friend one of my stickers... I think I'm gonna be getting VIP where I can from now on, as a lone queer I felt really unsafe. (I have to go to these things on my own as I don't know anyone irl who's into rock.)

On the positive side there was an adorable kid in a Papa Nihil costume, we took photos together, and an amazing Papa IV cosplayer we exchanged glares XD

The concert itself was fantastic!

Had cheaper seats and was further back and higher up but that gave me a better view of the stage, saw so much more this time!

So here's all my thoughts:

I finally got the hear/ see peacefield properly and omg it's amazing!!! The light streaming out of the torn curtains is glorious!

Perpetua's face, he's got a little grin on his face for the majority of the show! (Irl you can tell Tobias is having the time of his life.) The large screens on either side are really high resolution you can see so much expression in their faces! It's fascinating watching the faces Perpetua pulls to get some of the notes.

Papa twirling/ dancing around with the microphone stand at the beginning of Satanized. Adorable.

Perpetua sort of cowers / hides his head under his hands /microphone stand during the Latin part of Satanised. Shys away / cowers when the audience shouts Blasphemy, Hersey. He also literally cowers on the stairs during the guitar solo. Lore people & fanfic writers do with that what you will...

Papa called the audience Brummies at one point, that got a laugh out of me. Looks like Papa did his research. Edit: I remember now it was at the end of KTGG, "All you Brummies, Mwah!"

That being said I swear he said London rather than Birmingham at one point XD papa forgot where he was.

Perpetua did the same / similar "be gentle with me" bit from Manchester. Though when my side of the audience yelled back yes (they would be gentle) he said "see, they're gonna be gentle" or be nice to be, or something along those lines. Then said we can fight it out in the car park after the show...

I'm pretty sure I saw Nihil, or someone in Papal paint, "having fun" with two ladies on either side of him, in the Monstrance clock illustrations.

I heard faith live!!! So happy they played it!!! The grin on my face when the first few notes started playing! Perpetua didn't do Copia's motherf*ckers bit though!

Perpetua did Copia's "No!" during rats, albeit not as dramatically.

Umbra is beautiful, I think it's my favourite on the album so far... I cannot wait for the album to come out so I can listen to it 6,666 times... Also love how Perpetua runs after the instrumental bit in Umbra. The purple/white smoke and lighting during that song is also divine. And I think he was subtly humping the mic stand during part of it... He definitely had his hands framing his crotch...

Dewdrop(? I think it's dewdrop) has a broken foot, two fractures. He had a cast and didn't move much, stayed on the right side of the stage for most of it and sat on the steps for a few later songs. Perpetua asked us to applaud the injured ghoul.

Phantom took over the role as main hypeman for the audience.

Perpetua goes from "marijuana cross" into Dance Macabre by saying "fuck it".

I saw the hat, it is glorious!!! Stayed on fine for year Zero, took it off for He Is.

We got the sparkly bedazzled mask in cirice... It wasn't used in Manchester so I don't know if it was at the other rituals.

The ghoulettes dancing during ritual was adorable!!!

I love how the mask makes the white eye really stand out! So creepy looking!

The hand gestures during Majesty are mesmerising. I loved it when he put his hands over his heart!

Side note, I could see him getting ready on the platform at the back of the stage from where I was while phantom hyped up the audience before Majesty. The robes are way too long to move in they really are like 7-8 foot long irl.

And finally I got completely cleared out of stickers... Except a single billboard one...

Also made some sketches of the Year Zero outfit, especially the hat as I wanna make a cosplay of it...

Edit:

Apparently there was a kiss between Papa & Swiss. I couldn't/didn't see it from where I was sitting though.

Also forgot to mention the cowbell! Papa rises out of the floor during the lead into Umbra holding it aloft like a trophy! Before handing it off to Swiss(?).

[himbohysterectomy]

clinical trial (game) spoilers

firstly before anyone gets mad at me for policing their enjoyment/engagement with a piece of media this is NOT the intention here, do whatever you want forever and have fun ok? keep doing what you're doing so long as you aren't hurting anybody.

Also this is mostly about fanart cause I don't really read fic so idk how applicable it is over there but it still might be, idk.

_

I have noticed an overwhelming amount of sappy flowery fanart of lee and angel from clinical trial just being cute and lovey and it is strange to me. it feels to me like glossing over the actually interesting substance of the game in favour of generic wholesome content instead.

like i 100% understand the appeal stemming from that desire to be wanted and desired so intensely or even obsessively as well as that desire to feel protected by someone, and in turn wanting it to end up being healthy and wholesome and working out for the both of them. but I feel like what that ends up with in most of the fanart i see is just like. a normal ass couple?

of course we are set up to see the characters and their interactions as very cute and wholesome. and they are! it works wonderfully for setting up that gut-punch of a twist towards the end of the game. they spend a very long time building up to it and it works very well and is well worth the wait.

but like. hello. did we all forget the horror elements of this cute little horror game?

lee is obsessed with angel. he kept angels gum. angels blood. angels hair (which btw, when/where did he acquire that much hair?? lol). he made a doll of angel (which to be fair to him when you actually hear him out it is probably the most reasonable and wholesome part of that whole shrine). he for sure fucked that jacket. he took multiple pictures of angel out and about, meaning that be absolutely, undoubtedly stalked angel. he killed for angel and did not regret it one bit even when he was confronted about it.

him keeping the gum from the week 2 appointment means that at the very latest he became obsessed with angel the second time that they ever saw each other. we have no idea how long he was stalking angel for.

there is zero chance in my mind that their relationship would be healthy and wholesome, at least not all the time. even if they work on shit together and lee actually seeks therapy they're not gonna just... fix each other with the power of love.

frankly lee is unwell and does not know how to form healthy relationships. he could mask that side of himself pretty well during their appointments but even still not perfectly. if they move in together it's going to be a lot more difficult to keep himself in check all of the time and not be Kinda Weird about angel sometimes. there were already some red flags when they only saw each other once a week.

ultimately, it isn't that i want people to stop drawing wholesome and sweet accept ending fanart of clinical trial. of course not!

what i'm getting at is that i wanna see more freak shit!!! get fucky with it!!! draw them being obsessive and unhealthy! if you're gonna fantasize about this fucked up couple at least do it the justice of depicting it in the way that it was set up to be sometimes! they didn't take the time to set up that wonderful twist for it to just be ignored!!

draw lee struggling to not be obsessive or possessive or overprotective! draw lee secretly still keeping things that angel throws away, or stealing small things that he thinks angel wont miss! draw angel having to keep him in check and scolding him like a dog!

give that man his red flags back or so help me god!!! they're what make him interesting as a character - without them he's just Some Guy.

the art that actually got me to play clinical trial was this wonderful piece by @ glimfag/hecctwo. it is absolutely amazing and symbolic and perfect. it leans into the idea of angel also being kind of a freak like that, and why not!! in the accept ending angel knows everything that lee did and is capable of and chooses to be with him regardless.

maybe angel's kinda into it!! maybe angel's drawn to this idea of being the prey of a stalker! maybe angel wants a man that can be kept on a leash! maybe angel likes being the center of his whole universe because angel likes to have that power over him, especially after what angel has been through! maybe angel wants a guard dog! maybe angel likes knowing that he would absolutely kill again if angel asked him to!!

by all means keep drawing wholesome shit all day long but please don't shy away from showing the unhealthy side of their relationship, especially on lee's end! i promise that you're allowed to enjoy "problematic" things - you're capable of critical thought, so have fun with it!!!!!

[cartoon-buffoon]

Okay because I came up with a (in my humble opinion) the FIRE ship name of "Starbuck" which is Monster Frankie X the contestant, I wanna explain why this ship is so good because y'all fr sleeping on it. Unlike Rabbit royale which I've been seeing as portrayed as a toxic yoai situation where neither parties are good for each other, Starbuck is DOOMED yoai and it makes it SOOOO GOOD, now lemme set the scene real quick:

Monster Frankie has been acclimated to being the star of the show. No contestant has ever survived more than a few MINUTES. He's a sadistic killer who fucking GIGGLES when he kills someone, there's nothing the bastard loves more than crushing people and having all the audience watch him do it. A new season starts and the plan changes a bit, he has orders to NOT kill the contestant and this is what bothers him. He's mad, after all this is HIS gameshow, he is Frankie, the star, the one everyone comes to watch kill, and suddenly he's not supposed to do that? I mean, he does ATTEMPT to listen but ultimately he argues with Real Frankie about it because he's pissed, he doesn't want this nobody to survive until Hexa-Havoc, he wants them fucking DEAD! He goes out of his way to kill the contestant yet he's stopped by Real Frankie and this ultimately leads to the final confrontation. When he sees Real Frankie try to help the contestant out he's enraged and grabs him by the springy wrist and effectively tells that smiley bastard to fuck off and he's done, the plan is over, they made it to Hexa Havoc meaning what happens now is FAIR GAME!

And it was a fair game, but THAT'S THE ISSUE! In a fair fight with the platforms disappearing and them giving chase they somehow lose. For the first time in 50-something seasons they actually LOSE, this random nobody comes in and beats them and they get sent into an incinerator. Not only that, but after he comes back to life with his consciousness going into a spare suit they had he finds that same fucker who beat him as a contestant in the NEXT season.

And this is where it starts

Season after season Monster Frankie chases with the contestant running and ultimately beating him each and every time. Obstacles change, renovations are made to the parkour palace, seasons tick by. But never once does Monster Frankie figure out how to beat this masked weirdo who just showed up and asserted themselves as this reoccurring guest. His fame, his fun, EVERYTHING that he had built up as a cruel and relentless killer who the audience bets on to murder is flipped upside down. It's this loss after loss that makes Monster Frankie stop thinking the contestant is some lucky little fuck, he begins to realize what he's losing to is SKILL!

THAT'S WHERE IT BLOOMS! There's this unspoken rivalry that starts between them. Monster Frankie will continue to hunt and the contestant will continue to run, the contestant has this constant thrill of being near death thanks to this giant toothy rabbit and Monster Frankie has this little thorn in his side who continues to best him. He's intrigued, mad, but ultimately he can't help but feel a sort of attraction to this. And maybe it ain't one sided? After all the thrill of getting chased is what keeps the contestant coming back after each season and no one else gives them such a rush expect for Monster Frankie. Even if they don't talk much (at least they don't on camera, what happens off screen is left up to anyone's imagination ╮⁠(⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠╭ ) they still fall for each other and find themselves constantly trying to beat the other in this constant hunt.

All good things must come to an end though. As one would guess watching the same person get chased by the same monster may become boring to the audience. You can only change up the obstacles so much before it STILL becomes boring to the watchers. Now's the tragic part: the show has to change. It HAS to, the ratings are starting to drop and then higher ups are demanding things to be shaken up leading both to make a choice. If Monster Frankie and his continuous failures has bored the audience which is gonna force the higher ups to scrap him, they're gonna get rid of him and instead have something else replace him, idk maybe some NEW mascot and he'll be left forgotten and in the incinerator instead of getting a new body. On the other hand the contestant could die, the reigning champ could be dethroned leading to a new champ to possibly rise leading to a new fan favorite the audience can cheer for.

Whatever the case then end is near for the two. One of them is doomed no matter what, one HAS to perish and it's beyond devastating. This rivalry that blossomed into love, what started off as hate that became fondness and possibly even affection is torn away by the same gameshow that brought them both together. It's this tragedy that makes this ship SOOOO FUCKING GOOD! AHHH! I FUCKING LOVE THIS, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA!

[animeyanderelover]

Hi, could I request Itachi, Dabi and Narancia with a female s/o that is extremely insecure over her big nose? Thank you!

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, threats, isolation, female reader

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata @simplydlightfuldestiny @flaming-vulpix

S/o is insecure over her big nose

Uchiha Itachi

🍡You're far too harsh on yourself. It just makes Itachi sad when he sees how you constantly attempt to cover up your lower face by wearing masks but he doesn't force you to put them away, especially if you have had bad experiences in the past where bullies ripped covers away from you to make fun of your nose. After all he doesn't want you to be uncomfortable around him. He hates it even more when you talk low about yourself and bring up the argument that he wouldn't understand you because he is so handsome. So what if he is handsome according to you? Have you ever committed atrocities like he has? Is he a good person because he looks beautiful? He's the one supposed to feel terrible for kidnapping a good and beautiful person like you out of his own selfish desires. He keeps his frustration away from you though, remains patient. If he needs to dedicate hours of his day to discuss with you all the reasons why he loves you than he is fully committed to do it for you. If you do not believe him he is very much set on proving you wrong, he has stalked and observed you so intently that he is able to retell every habit and every moment that has made him fall in love with you even more.

Todoroki Touya

🔹Seriously? You think that you are ugly due to your nose? Shit, if you're ugly he must be a hideous abomination. Touya could almost consider it insulting that you have the nerve to talk shit about yourself whilst he is literally a burnt corpse walking. As soon as you start talking lowly about yourself he is absolutely joining you by talking self-deprecating about how awful he looks as well. Funnily enough you don't like when he talks about himself that way and he is always quick to return your complaints by retorting that he doesn't like listening to you either whenever you refer to yourself so negatively. If you can talk shit about yourself he is free to do so as well. Fuck, he has even more reasons to do it about himself considering that half of his body is barely held together flesh at this point. Such arguments usually always make you shut up pretty fast as if realising that he has it even worse than you. By all means, don't feel guilty when such thoughts cross your mind. As long as it serves its effect in stopping you from feeling as insecure about yourself as you normally tend to do Touya is quite content. You know, he and a lot of other people would have given a lot to look as normal as you do.

Narancia Ghirga

🍊​If you're feeling insecure about your big nose Narancia probably only heightens your anxiety but the poor boy is much too dense to notice that the constant attention he gives your nose makes you feel only worse. It's one of the first things that he pointed out when meeting you because it just stood out to him but he actually thinks that it's quite cute. He never realises that it's this constant attention on the part of your body you feel insecure about that makes you often uncomfortable around him, not until either someone from his gang or you yourself tell it to him very directly. Afterwards it does end up being worse though because now he feels like he has to constantly prove to you that you're beautiful. He constantly kisses your nose and when he introduces you to someone he always points out that you have a pretty nose and demands the other person to agree with him. Covering your face will absolutely not happen or else he might end up crying because he feels so upset that he is unable to make you feel beautiful about yourself. If you have any bullies he will turn into an absolut menace and terrorise them until they never show their face around you again.

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game, Jason/Tim where the Pit makes Jason possessive rather than mad and so he imprints on Tim as being his and needing to take him and make him fully his, turn Tim into Jason's own creature? I think that could be a cool idea, since the Pit has different effects on different people.

for the ask game!

oooh, i love explorations of what the Pit does to the psyche, especially if it falls outside of the typical Pit Madness schtick. here's how i would try and write that

so what i think is fun about Jason and the Pit is, he wasn't *dead* when he got dunked, he was just mentally catatonic. dunking him in the Pit was a gamble on Talia's part and Ra's even points out in Red Hood: Lost Days it may not work. so to have it work but just... wire Jason *differently* is a lot of fun to me. i like the idea of Jason being a bit aimless after the Pit. he's got his wits to him but it's still the "came back wrong" vibes. and when Talia shows him the pictures of Tim as Robin, trying to show him that Bruce replaced him, it has the opposite effect. Jason's wires are crossed in all sorts of directions and all he can think of is he won't let what happened to him happen to another kid. so he spirals, looking into Tim and getting more and more obsessed. what starts as a genuine concern for Tim's safety becomes a possessive imprinting. Tim becoming Jason's purpose.

one of the defining things about Jason's feelings on Tim, in canon, is feeling like Tim is being held back by his loyalty to Bruce. so, i don't know how literal you meant creature, but i'm taking it balls to the walls bc i like fucked up monster vibes. the *how* is the fun part of it. it's easy for Jason to corner Tim, kidnap him. but how does Jason decide to corrupt Tim? i know the Court of Owls is a New-52 thing and i'm going off of pre-Flashpointt, but, i think it'd be fun to steal it. just because well. i really fucking like Talons. and Jason making Tim a Talon would be a twofold thing- for one, it protects Tim. it's a lot harder to kill a Talon than a person. and for two, it makes Tim easier to control. i think Tim would fight it hard, but the Talon programming combined with Jason's fierce protectiveness would snap him pretty easily.

Jason would be smart about it. he'd keep Tim locked up for at least a few months. because if Robin goes missing, then the calvary is going to start looking for him. Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Oracle, Huntress, the Titans, everyone. and Jason knows even if he puts a mask on Tim, he needs to wait. needs to let the smoke blow over. so for months, it's just Jason and Tim somewhere underground where no one can find them. that's where the bulk of their bonding comes in. because i do think Jason would want Tim to *genuinely* like him outside of just monsterous programming. Jason would work to earn that trust, even if it's through manipulation. tbh i think he'd lie to Tim, either gaslighting Tim about his loved ones not looking for him, or straight up tell Tim he's imagining having been Robin. anything that deconstructs Tim's idea of a support system outside of Jason. Jason is Tim's savior, in his eyes, and he'd want Tim to believe that too. that Jason had to protect Tim, from the Bat. very fucked up vibes.

once Jason's sure it's safe, he'd slowly start making his presence known as Red Hood, with Tim by his side. Jason would still want to do the whole Red Hood thing, but now, he has the ability to taunt Bruce about Tim. it'd be a fun mind game for Jason, telling Bruce that he lost *another* Robin. (three, if you count Steph) meanwhile, Jason gets to go home to Tim the whole time. it's a fun game to him, while also making him preen that he's protecting what he believes belongs to him.

eventually, the truth would come out. but by then, Tim's too deep in Jason's pocket to listen to anyone, even Dick. he'd lash out at anyone claiming Jason is manipulating him, and he'd be Jason's perfect little partner. very fucked up ending where Jason and Tim are "happy" together, but in the most fucked up way. i'd give Tim a new codename, something like Shrike because that sounds fun and pointy. they'd almost be a Batman and Robin parallel/foil, in a way.

also, just as a bonus alternative: another route i think you could take this idea is playing with Joker Junior. like, Jason imprinting on Tim *just* as Joker kidnaps Tim. so that's what sets Jason's plans into action, he was going to wait for the perfect moment but now, Tim is missing and Jason will be *damned* if someone gets to Tim first. and since Jason has well. firsthand experience with the Joker, he's able to find Tim first and since Tim is so mentally shattered at this point, it makes him easy to manipulate. easy to get him to traumabond onto the person who saved him and even once he's mentally recovered, he's so attached to Jason he wouldn't want to leave Jason. and maybe Jason would use Lazarus Resin or something similar to make Tim more creature-like, and even get Tim to agree to it, under the guise of it helping protect Tim. this route could be fun bc it plays more with just how "consensual" it is for Tim and how much he really has his wits about him, choosing Jason after being brainwashed.

[carcarcraziiv2]

I LOVE YOUR JEALOUS APHELIOS AHH. I keep re-reading it!! Can I request a jealous kayn? NSFW or SFW is fine :3

THAT IS SO SWEET, ILYSM FOR TELLING ME THIS <3 <3 <3. Truly, it makes me happy to know people actually ENJOY what I am writing! Gives me a real boost to keep goin', ya know?!

And you literally bet your ass I will, Kayn is my ngjfhdsgjkh just my dirty lil' guy and I love him so gd much.

THIS is going to be NSFW. There will be warnings. I can't NOT do NSFW when I'm doing a jealousy trope. On god though? I had a random urge to make it soft Kayn so.... enjoy :3

P.S. SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG BUT I HOPE YOU LOVE IT <3

18+ MDNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~18+ MDNI

TW: Jealousy, violence (literally just a punch), kind of mental illness? (Idk how I honestly classify Rhaast in this AU, but just in case), sex, masked man doing to do (ooo c;).

AS ALWAYS! Enter at your own risk. ILYSM <3

18+ MDNI~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~18+ MDNI

Jealous Kayn

The concert was a success, as per usual. The crowd was dispersing, however a few guys stuck around in the V.I.P area you chose to sit in to support your boyfriend, Kayn.

You chose to help the venue workers begin cleanup duty as you waited for Kayn to come retrieve you. There were round tables scattered about, people having left their empty cups and trash all over the place.

"You don't have to help clean up you know," a friendly young man came over to where you had a trash bag held open, scooping litter into it. "Patrons don't generally stick around for this part. I'm Jack, what's your name?"

"Oh, I don't really mind at all. I travel with the band, so I try to make a habit of helping out," you smile. "I'm y/n, nice to meet you."

"Travel with the band, huh? So do you like help w- whoa! You okay?," Jack starts, before you trip over the bag you're holding in front of you and nearly fall.

Luckily, he was there to catch you so you didn't make any more of a fool of yourself.

Unbeknownst to you though, Kayn had just walked in to fetch you. His eyes widened in shock before his brow furrowed, his features turning to a scowl as he witnessed you in another man's arms.

You hadn't even noticed his presence yet, not until you felt a force lift you up by one of your arms so that you were standing tall again.

"Oh, Kayn! The show was gre-," you don't get to finish your sentence before Kayn is throwing a punch at Jacks face. The only thing you can do in response is drop your mouth open in shock.

"Whoa what the fuck man!," the friendly venue worker shouts, his hand coming up to cup his face. You rush over to him, noticing Kayn about to throw another in his direction. You step in front of Jack just in time for the blow not to hit him, Kayn barely stopping before accidentally hitting you.

"Knock it off, you idiot!" You holler, pushing your boyfriend in his chest. He stumbles back slightly, taken aback by your defense of this man who clearly just had his hands all over you.

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest as you watched his face turn from shocked to a scowl. He was clearly upset at you, but you were too upset with him to give a shit.

"Just go back to the hotel, Kayn. I'll find my own way back." Kayn stood there for a moment, his hands balled into fists as he seemed to study you for a reaction.

When you didn't falter your gaze, he conceded.

"Fine. Have fun with him," he snarled, whipping around and stomping away.

As you rushed back over to Jack to apologize and offer him assistance, you were unaware that Kayn still watched from the shadows of the small hallway in which he came from.

You idiot, Rhaast scolded him. "Shut up," he responded aloud. You let your emotions control the situation, you fool. Now our love is embarrassed and mad at us. Kayn hit himself on the head, then smoothed down his hair. "Fuck, you're right," he sighed. Although he knew he should go apologize to both of you, he felt defeated- disappointed in himself. He was so scared of losing you he made a minor situation worse. Not to mention, Yone was certainly going to hear about the incident from the venue management.

At that point, the only thing he could think to do was follow your order and return to the hotel.

To your surprise, Kayn made sure one of the guys stuck around to bring you back, too.

~~~~~

Yone was the one to take you to the hotel, silent for the entire drive until you arrived at your desitination.

"Go make up," he said, unlocking the door. "Kayn's mood will surely get worse after our conversation tomorrow."

"Ugh, thanks for the ride Yone," you sighed, thanking him as you left the vehicle. You entered the hotel, taking the elevator up to the room the two of you were sharing.

Steeling your nerves, you sifted through your pockets for the key card, taking it out and unlocking the door.

You weren't sure what you were expecting upon entry, but it was definitely not what greeted you.

Kayn sat shirtless on the patio, a lit cigarette smoldering in the ash tray, his body glimmering slightly from the moonlight caressing his skin.

And when you looked at his face... you saw it adorning his Rhaast mask.

Whatever edgy pity party shit that he is pulling, I don't care. I am staying in here. You dropped your phone and belongings onto the counter, silently scowling at him until his head slowly turned your direction.

You always liked his Rhaast side. So protective and levelheaded. Although very dominant sometimes, he always made your comfort a priority.

He stood, opened the sliding glass door, entered, then shut it behind him without turning around.

"Y/N," he said plainly, putting his hands in his pockets as he awaited your response.

"Yes?" You said, carelessly sassy with your tone as you looked anywhere other than the sculpted man prowling towards you. "What do you want?"

"You know I'm on your side, little one," Rhaast says as he approaches. You took a step back in unison with each of his until you were undoubtedly trapped between him and the white hotel wall. His body radiated heat that seeped into your skin, and you breathed deep to calm yourself.

"Ka- Rhaast. I don't know what to say. What happened earlier was really fucked up."

"I know, I know. Don't worry- I gave him a piece of my mind. That idiot never treats you right," his hand reaches up, gently caressing your face before lifting your chin to look at him.

You can't help your brow furrowing, lip pouting.

"Kayn doesn't treat me badly... he just read the situation wrong."

Checkmate, asshole. Kayn hisses to Rhaast. In return, he takes off his mask, revealing his wild but soft eyes. The contradiction between the obvious curiosity in his gaze and the demanding flicker of arousal made the muscles in your stomach tighten.

"He almost hit you, do you understand? Know's better than to endanger our love like that," his expression was so pained you could only imagine the war that was waging in his head right now.

"It's okay, love... really," you sighed. "I just didn't want any more violence to happen, and it seemed inevitable unless I intervened the way that I did. I know you- or Kayn- would never hit me. And I always know you treat me right."

Rhaast pouts his lower lip, and you have sudden overwhelming urge to kiss him. It wasn't your intention; you really did want to talk about everything... but you just couldn't stop yourself.

The kiss was tender, soft. He let out a sigh when you did it, almost a whimper- so out of character for him. It was almost as if he was relieved. He knew that you had forgiven him. You didn't feel so trapped between him and the wall anymore when Rhaast's hands gently pulled you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

"Thank you for always protecting me, Rhaast. Kayn, I love you," you smile against his lips, your hands touching his face. He pulls away only for a moment to look you in the eyes before grabbing you around your ass and lifting you up. Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you towards the bed.

Holding onto the back of his neck, you squirmed in his arms as the he lowered you onto the soft cotton bedding. The bed was cool under the fabric of your clothes, a delicious contradiction to the heat radiating between you and Kayn.

The two of you bite and suck and play amongst each other's lips, your body gradually becoming more and more aroused. When you look back into his eyes, you can tell Kayn has returned.

"I'm sorry, my love, but I can't control myself when it comes to you," he says, a shy but sly smile taking over the canvas of his face. He looks so cheeky, trying to get you to forgive him still even when you're sure he knows your hardly angry anymore.

Now you're just turned on.

"I understand- I can't say I wouldn't have reacted the same way... Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you make it up to me?" You smile back at him, tracing a finger down the soft skin of his muscular bare chest. He tilted his head in response, raising a brow. His body towered over you as the two of you lay there, encompassing you in his thrilling aura.

"You dirty little thing," he cooed before nuzzling his face into your neck, his wet tongue dragging along your skin before placing a soft nibble. You whimpered at the feeling as he continued scraping his teeth along your flesh.

"I would destroy everything for you, my love," his voice is sweet like a summer wind, warm emotions ruffling straight through to your heart. Kayn was everything- the sun, the moon, the stars. In this moment before you share the most intimate of actions, you felt so close to him.

He was being so open after the events that had occurred. You realized perhaps Rhaast was his way of communicating the things he didn't really want to say, and it made you feel warm inside that he was comfortable enough with you to share that side of him.

Your thoughts came to an abrupt stop when Kayn sat up to help you out of your clothes, removing his own swiftly. Your mouth hung open at the sight of him removing the black leather belt from his pants, the corded muscles in his arms flexing as his fingers fumbled with the buckle. When he looked back up at you with a feline gaze, you swore you could see flickers of Rhaast.

He bends, crawling over your squirming frame. The air was thick with tension as he began caressing your body with his large hands. They were rough on your soft skin as he pinched and prodded your nipples, leaning down slowly to suck them one by one.

There was this thing about Kayn- he never stopped watching you. Always looking at your expression, gauging how certain things made you feel. You were so enthralled by the way he looked at you while pleasing you that that alone had your heat rising.

He made his way down your body, peppering kisses and bites as he traveled. Once he reached your front, you hissed in a breath at the first feeling of his tongue on you.

He licked and sucked, his warm tongue caressing everywhere perfectly as he serviced you.

"Fuck, Kayn that feels so good," you moaned, grabbing his hair and tugging- to which he responded with a growl. You knew how that made him feel, and you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you in that moment. Sure, his mouth felt great, but you knew his cock would feel even better.

He almost became feral, you noticed, as he ceased his movements and sat up, grabbing you and pulling your legs towards him so you were at the edge of the bed.

"You drive me fuckin' crazy baby," his voice gravely, he gripped his thick member, stroking it a few times while looking at you through thick lashes. "I'm going to fuck you, now. Show you who you belong to, right my love?"

"Please Kayn, P-Please fuck me now," you whimpered, your cheeks warm and flushed, a hand caressing your front while the other rested idly by your head.

"I love it when you beg. Only for me, baby. Yeah- fuck," he stammered a bit as he pressed his tip to your entrance, watching his dick become engulfed slowly by your hole. "You're always so gods damned tight for me."

The feeling of his dick had your brain melting, your hand stopping for a moment. Kayn noticed, stopped his movements, and gave you a look.

"Did I tell you to stop, love?" All you could do in response between whimpers was shake your head, and you moved your hand back to keep pleasing yourself as he started picking up the pace. "Gooood, good fucking b/g."

He continued his pace, grunting every few seconds in sync with his thrusts. You rolled your eyes back into your head as you felt yourself climb higher and higher. Kayn leaned down and kissed you passionately, biting your lip as he released you.

"Cum for me, love. I'm not going to last much longer with you gripping me like this. He hissed in his breath as you shuddered and cried out, reaching your climax. Your vision blurred, a few tears dripping down your face as you gripped his forearms.

"Fuck baby- Fuck I'm gonna cum," Kayn groans, whipping his head back. "Take my cum baby, that's it, fuuuuuuck." His hips buck against you as he finds his release and lets out shuttering breaths as he slows to a stop.

He pulls out slowly, leaving you feeling empty but content as he pulls you up further onto the bed and collapses onto the plush mattress.

"Maybe I should get jealous more often if this is how the night ends up," he smiles, and you roll your eyes in response.

"Maybe I shouldn't have rewarded you for that behavior," you giggle, and he scoffs. "Next time let's talk about it first, unless the person you're jealous of actually looks like he is doing something bad?"

"Yeah yeah, I know," now it was his turn to roll his eyes, returning to his normal sassy self for a moment before softening again. "I really am sorry, Y/N. I love you."

"I know you are. Oh and by the way, you may want to save the rest of your apologies for your talk with Yone tomorrow..."

"Shit," was all he responded, shaking his head. "Great... Whatever, he'll get over it. He loves me."

"Yeah, so do I Kayn. So do I," you smile, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight my love."

"Goodnight, baby." He responds, and as when you fall asleep you dream of Kayn and Rhaast and the lovely life you share. Even through the ups and downs he will always be your everything.

[cobaltperun]

Lost (6) - Snap out of it

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

Summary: To anyone on the outside, and to Tara’s friends, you were Tara’s fierce protector, the MMA fighter who’d take anyone on for Tara. The Guard Dog, as Amber called you. You had no idea you’d have to protect her from people who claimed they loved her. It didn’t matter. As long as you and Tara had one another there was nothing you wouldn’t be able to survive.

Story warnings: Scream violence, family issues, trauma, angst, certain sensitive topics

Word count: 6.8k

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Under a spell you're hypnotized (ooh) Darlin', how could you be so blind?-

Furious didn't even come close to how she was feeling now that she was standing in the empty apartment in Modesto. No one she asked had seen Samantha, the apartment she shared with Richie was exactly the way they left it before they came to Woodsboro, the two plates that neither Samantha or Richie got the chance to wash, as they came to Woodsboro in a rush, the hastily made bed, all the other tiny signs of Samantha being in a rush to get to Tara and only grabbing the bare necessities before leaving. The signs of their shared life were there too, and she wondered for a brief moment how did their relationship look like, and she felt jealous, much more jealous than when she saw you and Tara sleeping together. Tara was hers in a different way, Richie was her lover. "You let them get out of town?!"

"I let them?! I did?!" Richie snapped with anger Amber had never seen before. "If you didn't say we needed to fight Y/N together I could have stayed by Sam's side and prevented this!" and what good did that do? You still survived, all things considered Amber was almost willing to say you came out on top. Hell, fighting you two on one saved their lives, if she was fighting you alone, well, the damage you did was enough of a proof that you would have either killed or severely wounded her.

"Don't you dare put that on me! If I didn't shoot her you'd be beaten to a pulp like some pussy. You had a knife and Tara's fucking guard dog still had the upper hand!" everything was going wrong. She didn't get to kill you, you broke two of her teeth and cracked her mask and everything hurt. Her wrist her, every breath she took hurt, her jaw hurt, her pride and ego hurt and now Richie was whining when he should have stopped Samantha from leaving.

Richie threw his arms up in the air and groaned, as if he couldn’t believe what she was saying. "And you fucked up by not killing her. No, instead you had to mindfuck your," he made air quotes, "girlfriend, and now my movie is going to be ruined because all we did is kill Dewey, a couple of characters no one is going to care about, and some sidenote character related to Stu!"

Killing Dewey felt so, so good, it was a much-needed relief after failing to kill you. "Our movie, you hear me? OUR movie!"

He huffed at that. "Well, none of that matters now, does it? We got Sidney and Gale, but Sam got away and as you can see, she is nowhere to be found! They didn't come here!" Richie was waving his hands around the empty apartment.

That got Amber to think. Samantha took Tara with her, but not to Modesto. You were with them. You took them somewhere. You were ruining her plans, her fun, yet again, but none of those realizations mattered. She had no idea where to look. If anyone would be able to find you right now, Amber figured it would be Tara, but Tara was with you. Were there other people that could take a guess? Maybe the couple that employed you? Your parents? Your coach? All of those would take too long and none of those were certain to be true.

"We need to get Sam to come back," Richie sounded desperate. "You'll have to forget about keeping Tara for yourself. Guess you already did, since you tried to shoot her."

Amber scoffed at that. She'd get Tara in the end. By the time all of this was over she'd permanently take Samantha out of Tara's life, and she'd make sure you were dead as well. Pointing the gun at Tara was an impulsive decision born from righteous fury. Tara pleaded for your life despite having an asthma attack. The old envy reawakened at that moment and the good old 'If I can't have her no one can.' kicked in. Since Tara survived Amber could now convince her that Amber was all Tara would ever have and they'd be together. It would be easy to do it, to convince Tara of that once you were gone, because what else could Tara do in that situation? Give up on her life entirely? As if that would happen. "I'll handle that part. Let's just figure out the way to get Samantha back to Woodsboro."

This would have been so much easier if you were never there in the first place. If you never got close to Tara, if Tara never fell in love with you, if she didn’t love you more than she could ever love anyone else. But Amber would break that, she’d have the upper hand the next time, after all, you were stabbed and shot multiple times, you’d be easy to take out. And then the image Tara had of you, that image of an invincible fighter that could protect her from anything, you being the source of stability and safety in her life would be shattered. After that, Tara would be easy to mold into what she should have been in the first place. Completely devoted and obedient, regardless of Amber did, after all, if Amber could get Tara to get over your death, there truly wouldn’t be any limit.

~X~

If anyone asked you three days ago you'd say you would never be able to go back to Sacramento. You loved the city, you really did, but ever since Zack died you kinda didn't feel like going there. Funny how things turn out sometimes.

Susan lived in a suburban part of the city, in a two-story home that, while not as big as the other houses in the area, still had plenty of space. Memories threatened to consume you as you stepped out of the car and saw the woman. She looked much older than she did ten years ago. And It wasn’t just the passage of time that caused it. You guessed losing her only son like that would have such effects. She looked frailer than ever. The image of a tall, proud woman that just turned forty-three years old was replaced by this decade-older woman with gray hair broken down by time. There was no bounce to her steps, and now that she approached you just as Sam was stepping out of the car you could see that she barely had any spark of life in her eyes.

"You didn't mention you were hurt as well," she touched the bandage on the right side of your face, where Ghostface sliced your jawline.

Somehow you didn't find yourself leaning away from her touch. You accepted it, actually felt comforted by it, and just nodded. "Yeah, sorry about that. It didn't seem important," you brushed it off, doing your best to ignore the disapproval in Susan's eyes. Instead, you took in the surrounding area and your eyes fell on a tall cherry tree in the middle of the empty front yard. "The tree's grown," you mumbled awkwardly, finally getting the woman to smile.

"Of course, I'm making sure of that," the spark of life seemed a bit stronger now.

"I'm glad. This is Sam, by the way," you suddenly realized you failed to introduce them to one another. Sam already took the wheelchair, crutches, and bags out.

"Thank you for letting us stay," Sam expressed her gratitude as she and Susan exchanged a handshake.

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry you went through so much," Susan was still the same person you remembered as a kid, that much you could see, the same kind woman that accepted you despite what you father did. Sure, at first it was because that was what Zack wanted, but over time the bond between you turned into something more personal as well. Before Zack died you almost saw Susan as a mother, she certainly cared more than your own parents.

"Sam, I'll get Tara," you said and went to the other side of the car where Tara was already opening the doors. "I got you," you assured the sleepy girl. She was so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that she adorably fell asleep in your arms while you were on the road.

"Mhm," she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and stretched a bit. "Maybe I could use the crutches?" she suggested but then realized the tiled path to the house wasn't exactly even and that she'd have to deal with more than a couple of stairs. "On second thought," she sheepishly reached out for you.

You smiled, she really was adorable. "I swear you'll get used to this and demand to be carried even after you recover," you teased lightly as you picked her up.

Tara hummed at that and then just leaned up to give you the lightest kiss on the cheek possible. Payback for earlier or not, you couldn't stop the heat warming your cheeks.

A fake cough from the side interrupted whatever Tara was about to say.

"Right. Tara, this is Susan," you awkwardly introduced them to one another.

"I'm sorry I'm meeting you like this, and thank you," Tara twisted her body as well as she could so she could shake Susan's hand.

"Considering how Y/N is, I doubt we could have met in better circumstances," Susan laughed lightly.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that. "Awesome introductions ladies, how about we get inside now?" just a suggestion, since you were still injured and as much as you hated to admit it, carrying Tara wasn't the easiest at the moment.

~X~

The entire house felt as if it was stuck in the past. As if Susan was trying to preserve the memories of Zack as much as she possibly could. Everything was the same, to the minute details such as the MMA gloves hanging on the wall. Your eyes landed on the only photo you and Zack had together.

Zack was thirteen years older than you and there were remarkably few similarities between the two of you. The opposite hair color, a somewhat shorter build, and the only trait you physically shared was the color of your eyes. That was probably why Susan was so adamant about looking into your eyes since you sat down in the living room.

Susan and Sam took armchairs and you and Tara were on the large sofa. All of you opted for just a glass of water, not exactly feeling like drinking anything else. The tea cakes were on the table, but they remained forgotten as Sam seemed a bit on edge, which in turn put Tara on edge as well. Not to mention Tara was trying not to sit too close to you, she was just near enough to feel your presence.

You felt how tense Tara was, how much she wanted to lean on you, at least a bit, at least to press her side against you. “Say, do you still have the tea Zack used to drink? Was it nettle tea?”

Susan smiled at that. “Of course, and you know, you could use one right now, I’ll go an make you one,” well she either understood what you were trying to do or she just wanted to make it for you. You didn’t pay much attention back when Zack was telling you about it, maybe it was for muscle ache, or something.

“Cool! Thanks!” you’d take the opportunity though. It was what you were trying to do anyway.

“You want some honey?” she asked as she opened the door to her kitchen.

“Sure,” there was no way you’d drink a tea you never tried before without some honey, just to make sure it wasn’t too bitter.

With Susan in the kitchen, you closed the distance between you and Tara and hugged her from the side. “What’s wrong?”

Tara visibly relaxed, leaning into your touch. “Sorry, I’m just thinking,” she looked away, refusing to meet your eyes.

You followed her line of sight and saw that Tara was looking at the photo of you and Zack. You were nine and leaning your weight on Zack as you held a shovel. The freshly planted cherry tree was to your left. You were sure you hadn't grinned that widely ever since he died. She must have noticed Zack’s gloves, and was now piecing it all together. Your reason for fighting, why you kept choosing MMA no matter how much she disliked it.

Susan came back with the cup of tea, she didn’t make the comment about you hugging Tara, or the way Tara leaned against you. She just smiled, handing you the cup and sitting back down.

“Careful, it’s still hot,” she warned.

You chuckled at that and set the cup down. “Yeah, let’s skip burns.”

Susan nodded and then got serious. "Okay, I know you went through a lot and that this might not be comfortable for you all, but I'd like to know what exactly happened to the three of you," Susan's demand was fair as far as you were concerned. While you were sure no one would be able to find you, you probably were putting her in some danger with this.

So, the three of you went and recounted what happened, you didn't go into detail, but Susan got the gist of it. You thought she might be able to provide the three of you with an outside perspective.

"I don't like the timing," Susan seemed lost in her thoughts as she leaned her chin on her hands. "It had to be the 23rd and not a day later, so someone very close to at least one of you two," Susan motioned toward you and Tara. "had to be involved."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, so far you thought the main target was Sam, and while that was still likely the true neither of you thought of at least one Ghostface’s relationship with you or Tara, aside from, well, knowing you.

Susan motioned toward you. "Think of her lifestyle several weeks before fights and roughly a week after the fight," and then it made sense to you.

"I'm at my weakest the first couple of days after the fight," you groaned, removing your arm from Tara and leaning the back of your head against the sofa. There was no way you could have seen this coming, but it was clear whoever attacked Tara chose 23rd for a reason. "I have to lose between ten and twenty pounds before each fight, training is longer and more intense than usual, I get beaten up, then my body cools down and I can't just go back to eating like I normally do right away. I have no energy and I'm in pain. Why not 22nd though? I'd be even weaker than I was today," it was almost surreal to think that it was still the 25th, even if there were only two hours left.

It looked like Tara had an answer to that. "I think I would have invited you in if you took me to my place," ah, there it was. There was a chance she wouldn't be alone. "I didn't plan to do it, but I hadn't seen you in some time and I missed you, so there's a chance I would have done that," she clarified, blushing slightly at the implications of her inviting you that late at night.

"And if you weren't alone," Sam began and then turned to look at you.

You abruptly got up. "I need a moment," you stepped outside the living room before anyone could say anything to you. It was irrational. There was no way you could know. Even if you acted on that bad feeling, maybe that would just delay the killers until your next match and maybe Tara wouldn't be lucky enough to survive and all the what-ifs and maybes swarmed your head as you got out of the house and just took several deep breaths.

But you did have one thing that could have stopped all of this altogether. You could have taken Tara away from that damn house. The moment she turned eighteen you could have tried to convince her to come live with you. A tiny rational voice in your head told you there would still be times when she would be alone in your apartment, like several days you spent away from Woodsboro before each fight. Then there was the fact that you did, in the end choose fighting over Tara, you knew Tara didn’t like that you were an MMA fighter, that it was a big part of the reason as to why you weren’t together, but as you watched the cherry tree you remembered exactly why you couldn’t choose Tara back then.

Now it was different. Now you nearly lost Tara and, suddenly, that bond with Zack felt less important. Still, even if you weren’t an MMA fighter, you couldn’t be home or with Tara all the time. Maybe with it being a building with apartments, someone else would have been capable of getting between her and her attacker.

Who were you kidding? Like that could have ever happened. The security didn’t come after they heard gunshots and someone must have heard them, yet it took Sam and Dewey coming to the hospital for someone to come and help you. So, if someone whose job it was to keep the hospital secure didn’t budge, a random neighbor definitely wouldn’t. Even if you knew, even if you had some vision of the future, you'd never be able to keep Tara completely safe. There would always be some window of time during which she'd have to protect herself.

You can't control everything.

There's only so much you can do.

There's only so far you can push with overprotectiveness before Tara herself gets sick of it.

~X~

Watching you leave like that, while understandable, still stung. Sam didn't mean to make you feel guilty, Tara was sure of that. Tara was also certain you felt guilty on some level regardless of how ridiculously unreasonable that guilt was.

If someone wanted to hurt her, they would have gotten her sooner or later. Instead of considering how you kept her alive, how you made her feel safe and cared for, and how you wouldn't leave her side unless you were forced to, you laser-focused on one moment you weren't with her.

Coming to this place also indirectly revealed something important to her. Guilt gnawed at her when she caught herself thinking that maybe, now that she nearly got killed, you would consider leaving MMA. She pushed that selfish part of her as far away as she could, but looking at the gloves hanging from the wall she felt that guilt come back tenfold.

"Could I ask a question about Zack?" she tried to phrase it as politely as she could and be as clear as possible that she would take no for an answer.

There was a hint of sorrow in Susan's eyes as she nodded. "You can."

"Was he an MMA fighter?" she figured he was, she just wanted to see how far it went.

Susan looked at the gloves somberly. "He was. He managed to fight three times, lost his first fight, won the second, and lost the third, but then his sickness got worse, and he had to quit."

That was the last piece of the puzzle she needed. Tara always had more influence over you than anyone else she knew, but not even she could get you to stop with MMA. Now she understood why you couldn't let it go. She nodded her thanks to the still-grieving mother.

Would her mother be like this if she died? Somehow, she doubted that. "I should probably go to bed," she looked to the side.

"Of course," Susan was more accepting and understanding than her own mother, despite meeting Tara tonight, and that hurt. She couldn't even begin to imagine how you must be feeling. Not only because of your own bad relationship with your parents but also... Well... She noticed how your brother had the same eyes as you, she noticed how Susan looked at your eyes. How did that make you feel? Did you notice? She was sure you did.

At times Tara thought the woman wasn't seeing you, but her dead son, and that hurt Tara. You lost your brother, and you grieved too.

Not wanting to interrupt you or force you to come back to her side pretty much the moment you stepped away she took her crutches and with Sam's help went to the bedroom Susan prepared for the three of you. It was a guest bedroom with two beds, but seeing as she was sleeping with you it worked out just fine.

“Whatever you need, don’t hesitate to ask,” Susan assured Tara as she stood at the doors, they would change bandages in the morning.

Tara nodded her thanks, frankly thankful the woman didn’t mind one bit that you and Tara were this close. She’s seen your father’s reaction. Fuck, that should have made her see something was wrong as well! Ever since she found out about what you went through she’s been remembering bits and pieces that should have clued her in and she felt like shit because of that.

As she thought that Sam helped her get ready for bed. She missed that. She missed having Sam in her life. She missed Sam being caring and gentle with her. She missed Sam always being there.

"I didn't think I'd come back to find you this attached to Y/N, or maybe I should have seen it coming," Sam teased as she helped Tara out of her pants. The cast was making everything difficult. "Not that it’s bad! I fully support you Tara, I just thought, with how physically intimate the two of you are that you'd be together. How come you chose Amber?" Tara figured Sam was trying to catch up on the five years she missed.

"Promise you won't laugh," honestly, Tara regretted that moment, her accepting Amber’s feelings, every time she wanted to kiss you. And she wanted that almost every peaceful moment you two shared since you called her Love. But, she was still in relationship with Amber.

"I'd never laugh at you Tara," Sam reassured her softly.

"I wanted to get Y/N jealous," she mumbled.

"Huh?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I lied and said I was dating Amber almost a month before I actually started dating Amber. I thought she'd get jealous and confess," Tara explained, but she lightly bit her lip, knowing full well that she wasn’t telling the whole story. Although, looking at it now, she probably should have told you Amber asked her out instead of, you know, that she was already dating Amber.

Sam sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "I’m guessing that’s not the entire reason."

Tara looked away at that and, with Sam’s help, moved to lie down. “Y/N chose fighting, I guess. Back then I thought she didn’t love me back,” she paused, annoyed at the incredulous look on Sam’s face. “Sorry, there wasn’t a life or death situation before this,” she grumbled, blushing and unintentionally guilting Sam into dropping the ‘are you serious?’ expression. “I just… I was immature, I didn’t have the whole picture, I just thought Y/N chose fighting instead of me, despite how often I made it clear I didn’t like seeing her get hurt.”

Sam nodded. “You thought it was just about fighting and didn’t understand why she’d keep doing it if she loved you back,” Sam understood and Tara felt relief at that.

“God, I feel so bad now,” she whispered, angry at herself for making you choose. She had no idea she was making you choose between her and your memory of your brother, but now that she knew… that must have been so painful to you. “I know Y/N wouldn’t say a word, but I still wish I asked more, tried to understand more.”

Sam placed a hand on Tara’s shoulder, and it brought her so much comfort, it eased her worries because Sam was finally back in her life. “You said it yourself, Y/N wouldn’t say a word. Tara, you were a child, you are still just a teenager, you will be immature at times. Trust me, I know all about it,” Sam smiled gently, her eyes were filled with love and understanding and Tara had to reach up and place her hand on top of Sam’s in gratitude.

“Then there was Amber. She… kept saying Y/N would abandon me, that it was only a matter of time, and she just kept repeating that. I don’t know how, but I started believing her when Y/N just let me get together with Amber,” that was her greatest shame, and she was being stupid, she knew that, but Amber was so convincing, so adamant that she was right, that Tara accepted it, allowed Amber to exploit her fears. So, she told Sam everything.

It was a slow process. Before her and Amber got together Amber would complain about you, and Tara would argue back. So, Amber would keep her mouth shut, but that was when they were kids. After you turned eighteen Amber would complain again, and this time, when Tara argued back, Amber would go for silent treatment.

It hurt Tara, because Amber was her close friend back then, only second to you. Add in that you let your parents back then, and that Tara had no idea why, and her insecurities were almost unbearable. So, afraid she’d lose both of you, Tara began arguing less and less, just to avoid Amber’s silence. It was fine, right? She wanted to be loved, and Tara quickly learned that the price of Amber’s love back then was letting her complain about you.

Tara felt awful, she felt awful every time she hugged you, she felt so awful she ended up telling you about it. And you, in a way only you could, told her it was fine. You didn’t care what Amber thought, and you knew Tara needed someone other than you in her life, you didn’t want Tara to get hurt, so, you gave Tara permission to stay silent. To let Amber vent. And it became easier after that.

She should have known it would escalate, but by the time she realized that, she was with Amber and she was going along with Amber’s demands. She agreed to distance herself from you, she agreed to pay the price for Amber’s love yet again.

All the while Sam clenched her fists, shaking in barely controlled anger. “Tara, she manipulated you, she took advantage of your trauma, she conditioned you,” Sam seethed, and Tara was surprised she wasn’t yelling at this point. “This is all my fault. If dad never left then I likely wouldn’t either, and you’d never fear being abandoned so much. I’m so sorry Tara, it’s all my fault,” angry, frustrated tears fell from Sam’s eyes.

Tara sat up, though it was a bit difficult to do so, and hugged Sam. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t make Amber act like that,” she tried to comfort her sister.

“No, but I gave her something she could use,” Sam argued back, pulling away slightly to look Tara in the eyes, and then her eyes widened in something Tara could only describe as horror. "Never trust the love interest, that's what Dewey said."

Tara felt panic setting in. Amber's anger and jealousy toward you. Her insistence on keeping Tara away from you. No, there was no way it was Amber. And then it came back to her. The numerous times Ghostface called her baby, just like Amber did. The conversation with Susan came back, with the way Amber insisted on Tara coming to her place the night of your fight suddenly making even more sense.

The realization hurt more than all the physical pain she went through over the past few days. "It's Amber," her voice cracked as she said that. Everything just faded into the background until Sam reached her and pulled her in.

Sam was a frantic cuddler, as Tara liked to describe people's ways to cuddle. Sam's hands were moving up and down her arms, then she moved so that one hand rubbed circles across Tara's back while the other smoothed her hair. It did little to soothe her this time, but it was nice. It felt nice. It felt warm as opposed to the chilling cold gripping her heart.

Amber did this to her. Amber turned her life upside down. Amber made her distance herself from you, so you wouldn’t be there to protect her. Amber loved her, so she could try to remove you from Tara’s life, so that Tara would be more vulnerable, so that Tara would be easy to target and kill.

Amber made her shoot you.

So, Tara cried, she sobbed and wailed as she clung to Sam as hard as she could. She cried herself to sleep with Sam doing everything she could to comfort her.

For how long did Amber plan to do this? Was she ever jealous in the first place? Tara’s feeling for Amber weren’t as strong as her feelings for you, she’d never love anyone the way she loved you. But Tara still liked Amber, she tried her best to love Amber back, and she was betrayed and forced to hurt you.

~X~

When you came back inside you heard Tara and Sam were upstairs and figured you could stick around for a bit longer. Just to give the sisters a bit of time together until fatigue caught up with you and you'd have no choice but to go upstairs and sleep. So, you sat down, picked up the cup of tea you left behind and took a sip.

It was okay, a bit different than what you were used to, but you could drink it.

"Y/N, how is college going?" Susan's question made you freeze for a moment.

"Uh, I'm not going to college," you looked away, subconsciously glancing upstairs to where Tara and Sam were.

Susan seemed taken aback by that. "How come. You were a smart kid, I doubt that changed."

"I haven't saved up enough money to give it a try yet, and I'm not eager to get into debt unless I absolutely have no other choice," you explained. “Besides, I didn’t want to leave Tara in Woodsboro,” that was another reason, you weren’t in a rush to get a degree so, you could and would just wait until Tara graduated.

Susan frowned and you felt your palms sweat a bit at the way she was studying you. "Money? What about your parents?"

It would make her angry, but you'd still be honest with her. "I cut contact with them when I turned eighteen. It was a mutual agreement, even if it wasn't, it's my life. I'll figure it out on my own."

As you expected there was fury in her eyes. "And Zack's request?"

It was your turn to frown. "Come on. Surely you didn't expect them to honor it," how naive did she have to be to think your parents would listen to Zack, regardless of the nature of his request.

"I'll pay," there was a definitiveness in her tone.

"No, you won't," yet you didn't leave any space for arguments.

"Y/N," there was a warning in her tone, but you were almost conditioned by your parents to never back away from such tones.

"I'm not Zack, Susan," that went too far, it was a low blow, but it sent a clear message. "I get it, you miss him, but giving me what you didn't have a chance to give to him won't happen. I can't let you."

She looked away and you could see she was holding back tears. You could see her shoulders slumping even more. "I know, but it was his final request," she tried.

"He didn't ask you to do it, though. He asked my parents to take good care of me," you argued back as softly as you could. This was why you didn't let Susan know about the extent of your injuries or the heart attack. She'd worry, she'd try to take care of you and, as much as it hurt to admit it, you didn't have it in you to let someone other than Tara get that close to you. It just became a habit you couldn't get rid of, and Tara remained the exception.

“I’m sorry, this wasn’t the time to talk about that,” she apologized, wiping her eyes. “How long have you and Tara been together?” she asked making you chuckle a bit.

Did it really look like that? Who were you kidding, it absolutely looked like that. “We aren’t together, actually,” you saw the surprise on her face. “It’s a bit complicated,” that was an understatement. Despite the feelings there were obstacles at the moment. Tara being in a relationship with Amber being one of them.

Susan stood up and placed a hand on your right shoulder. “She loves you, it’ll work out in the end, you’ll see,” she assured you softly.

“Thanks,” you smiled at her and got up to hug her. It felt good to have her back in your life.

~X~

When you went upstairs you found Tara wide awake, even though Sam was sleeping. “Hey, how come this happened?” you teased her a bit, sitting on her left side and poking her shoulder lightly. The look in Tara’s eyes made your smile drop. “Tara?”

“It’s nothing, just lie down,” she pleaded, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Now that your eyes adjusted to the dim light you saw her eyes were red, she was crying.

You slipped beneath the covers, carefully avoiding her leg and other injuries, and hugged her. “You’ll get through this,” you felt her closing the distance between your bodies as much as your injuries allowed, you felt the desperate grip she had on the back of your shirt, her right fist clenching around it.

“Call me Love again, please, Y/N,” she whispered as you reached up, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

You hesitated a bit, not sure what that meant for her right now, but if she needed to hear you say it, you would. “I’ll call you however you want me to, Love.”

“Say it again,” the request was timid, and you could see the tips of her ears going red.

“Love,” you repeated, you wanted to ask her why she was crying before you came back, you wanted to be sure she was fine, but it didn’t look like you’d get anything out of her right now, so you just tried to relax her, to make her feel safe.

“Again,” her breath mixed with yours, but neither of you moved to close the distance.

“Love,” you brushed your fingers through her hair, her eyes, her soft eyes filled with so much love for you. “My Love,” you whispered, so quietly you worried she might not hear you, but she did and she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

“Yours,” she whispered back, slowly relaxing.

Eventually, she did fall asleep, her head resting on your chest, the soft, even sound of her breathing lulled you to sleep as well. You were safe here, you could relax.

~X~

Later that night, sometime after midnight, Sam struggled to fall asleep, even if she pretended to be asleep before you came in. Tara managed to doze off for a bit before you came in, but she woke up abruptly, and as much as Sam wanted to help her she knew Tara needed you to comfort her, and she feared staying awake might make Tara hold back. Still, anger was burning through her veins. Amber hurt Tara. Amber nearly killed her little sister. Amber downright psychologically tortured Tara. Amber forced Tara to shoot you. Amber betrayed Tara's love.

Amber was going to pay.

With that thought in mind Sam sat up, careful not to wake you or Tara up.

"That's it, Sam, let's go make the bitch pay! Cut her throat and carve her up!" she saw him in the mirror, she knew she should fight it, she knew she shouldn't give in. That she shouldn't be bloodthirsty.

This time was different.

The enemy was no longer a masked, faceless killer who tried to kill her sister. It was an actual person. She had one of the targets. She wouldn't let anyone else hurt Tara.

"That's it! That's my daughter," the monster she was trying to get out of her head cheered as she grabbed your car keys.

~X~

The annoying sound of your phone ringing pulled you out of your peaceful slumber. Tara groaned, pulling the blanket above her head in an attempt to get back to sleep. By some miracle, you managed to reach your phone without making Tara move from her spot in your arms and rejected the call.

Almost immediately it began ringing again. "Who dares call at this hour?! What time is it anyway?" you hissed and finally answered your phone. "What?" you couldn't care who it was.

"Why are you coming back to Woodsboro?" that didn't make any sense.

"Huh? What are you talking about? Who even are you?" you were beyond confused.

"Listen, kid, your car is on the way back to Woodsboro, I put a tracker on it when you left, so don't try to fool me," the woman spoke and you were wide awake. You sat up, pulling Tara with you. You felt your heart sinking when you looked to the side and saw an empty bed. Sam was gone.

"Sam took it," those three words accomplished plenty of things, they woke Tara up, they made the woman talking to you curse loudly, and made you hope Susan's car was good to go. "How much of a head start does Sam have?" it was only at that moment that you truly realized what the tracker meant. What if Ghostface placed a tracker on your car as well?

"Considering where she is, I'd say an hour."

Shit, even if you rushed there was a high possibility she'd still get to wherever she was going way before you. "Thanks for calling. I'm going after her," you'd think about who was on the phone with you later.

You hung up and began getting dressed.

"Sam left?" Tara was sitting up, looking almost catatonic for a moment.

"She’s going back to Woodsboro," you wanted to help her, but the best thing you could do for Tara right now was make sure Sam was safe.

Tara grabbed your wrist and you saw the fear in her eyes. Was she afraid Sam was leaving her again?

"She went after Amber, Amber is one of the Ghostfaces," Tara revealed, her voice filled with anguish, and you saw red at the new information.

'God damn it, Sam, you better not kill Amber before I get there,' you thought.

~X~

Just for a moment Amber thought that maybe there really was something wrong with her. She watched her friends, Chad, Mindy, and Liv, drugged, unconscious, ready to be cut up to lure Sam back to Woodsboro. She’s known them for years, ever since she was a child. She knew Wes as well, she knew Tara. She loved Tara. She loved having Tara, making Tara unconditionally hers was the thrill only second to this.

But she didn’t feel any regret, just a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction at the power she had. Maybe there really was something wrong with her, but she felt good, she felt like she had a purpose, something bigger than her, something grander than just one person. She was a fan that was turned into a star of her favorite fandom. Stu to Richie’s Billy.

So, what if she was a bit unhinged, if she lost it a bit as she stabbed Liv. Liv wasn’t screaming, she wasn’t fighting back, so maybe she really did go too far with her. Maybe she hit a vital organ in her excitement. It was so easy, much easier than when she went after Tara, much less painful than trying to kill you. It wasn’t as thrilling though.

She should wait until Chad and Mindy regained consciousness.

Story Masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

[mraardvark04]

The Things We Left Behind 1.

ok lol so basically is simon x reader where deena and simon switch places, and the reader and sam switch

Pairing: Simon Kalivoda x Reader

Warnings: Fighting, past relationship, car crash, blood, lmk if I missed any

The blood was still wet on the floor of Shadyside Mall.

The janitor had tried to scrub it away, but no amount of bleach could erase the smell. Sharp, metallic, and somehow, scarred.

Another massacre, another Shadyside tragedy

That's how it went, right?

The whole town was cursed, had been for centuries. The second you were here, you were doomed. And yet, no matter how many bodies piled up, life went on. People worked, went to school, and partied. Because what the hell else where they supposed to do?

And you?

You had escaped.

Sunnyvale was supposed to be a fresh start. Better school. Better life. No more looking over your shoulder waiting for the next horror story.

It was supposed to be the right choice.

Then why did it feel like a part of you had been ripped out when you left?

Why did it feel like everything had gotten worse?

And why couldn't you stop thinking about Simon?

-

"Christ, not you too" Deena mumbled as ker and Kate walked into the bathroom only to find evidence of psychos in graffiti. The whole bathroom smalled like cheap cleaner and cigarette smoke

"She reached from beyond the grave to make good men her wicken slaves" whispered Kate, jokingly.

At that moment, Simon busted through the bathroom stall to complete the nursery rhyme.

"She'll take your blood, she'll take your head, she'll follow you until you're dead!" he yelled, startling Deena, who leaned up against the grimy sink, unamused.

"Wow. You guys are dicks."

"It's just fun."

"it's sick!"

"What? The dude was wearing a Halloween skull mask! How is that not fun?" Simon added.

"People died. Heather died. The dude was probably just some sad sack who hated his life, like the rest of us, except he decided, "Hey, why don't we get out of here for good?" And, "Hey, why don't I take Heather and a couple other mall rats with me?" There's no angry, dead witch who made him go postal." Deena stated. "The only thing that made hum go crazy was this town!" she dropped her back pack

"Are you okay?" asked Kate

"Seems like you have some witch in you!" Simon quipped

"Why are you even in here? This is the girls' bathroom." Deena questioned as Simon pulled a white box out of the vent above the middle stall.

"Candy store," Simon answered "Plus I have a favor to ask."

"You know we don't believe this witch shit, right? It's just, like, fucked-up Santa Clause or something. What's the favor?" Kate asked, turning to Simon.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a shoe box, tapping it a few times before shoving it into Kate's hands.

"Give this to Y/N tonight."

Kate snorted. "Oh my god."

Simon's jaw clenched. Just take it."

Deena raised an eyebrow. "You seriously want her to play delivery girl for your ex?"

His stomach twisted. "She's not- just shut up and give it to her."

Kate made a face. "Yeah, no."

Simon scowled. "Why not?"

"Because we we're not enabling your tragic, star-crossed bullshit."

"Kate."

"Nope."

"Deena? What about you?"

"I'm not going to the game, I quit band."

What? Wasn't that your only extracurricular left?"

"Yeah? So what?"

Simon exhaled sharply, shoving the box back into his backpack. He'd figure something else out.

"I know you have something in thar box that'll give you the balls the face Y/N." Kate said as she opened the box, exposing the orange bottles to her friends.

"What? You're dealing again? I thought you stopped after this dingus's brother OD'd." Deena asked, gesturing to simon.

"Timothy?"

"Timmy wasn't a real OD. He didn't actually die. They brought him back. " Kate smiled while Simon immited defibrillators.

"Ja-Jiiing!"

"You're both morons."

"Which one of us is valedictorian, again? President of every club this shithole has to offer?" Kate asked as the three friends walked out of bathroom. "I'm getting out of here. Off to claim my place among the stars, bitch."

-

"Before tonight's game, out of respend for last night's tragic events, Sunnyvale will hold a candlelight vigil for the victims. All player, cheer and band attendance is mandatory."

Hearing this, Simon decided that this was his only chance to give Y/N the box. He knew he had to go.

-

The candlelight flickered across a sea of polished Sunnyvale faces, each one carefully arranged into an expression of somber grief. The entire event was coordinated and pristine. An entire town of people who could grieve without ever truly feeling loss.

You stood beside Peter, his arm draped over your waist, playing the perfect Sunnyvale couple. You smiled at the right moments, and nodded when people whispered about how awful things were in Shadyside.

Then Peter kissed you.

Not a soft, somber kiss. Not something for for a vigil. It was possessive, claiming and when his hand slid down to grab your ass, you felt a burn of embarrassment.

You weren't the only one.

Across the lawn, Simon had been watching.

His whole body stiffened. Jaw tight. Hands clenched into fists. Then he turned sharply and stormed off, shoving past a group of people.

Your chest tightened.

Without thinking, you pulled away from Peter and followed.

-

You found Simon leaning against a brick wall, arms crossed, expression dark.

"Simon-"

"Save it," he snapped.

You hesitated. "I wasn't gonna-"

"Bullshit."

Your throat tightened. "You don't get to be mad at me."

Simon let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, I don't? Right. Because you're the victim here, huh?"

"I never said that!"

He shook his head. "You left, Y/N. You bailed. And now you're- what? Playing house with some Sunnyvale douche?"

"It's not like that!"

"Then what is it like?"

Before you could answer, a shout erupted from the field.

You both turned just in time to see a fist connect with someone's jaw.

The brawl had started.

-

The inside of the bus was chaos Kate was fuming.

"I cannot believe you let those Sunnyvale pricks get the last hit in."

"Jesus, Kate, let it go," Simon muttered, rubbing his temple.

Kate opened her mouth to argue, but then a thud hit the bus window.

Simon turned to see Peter and one of his dumbass friends throwing beer bottles from their car behind the bus, with you in the passenger seat.

Simon exhaled sharply. "Oh, fuck this."

He turned to Kate. "Help me dup the cooler."

Kate hesitated, then grinned. "Hell yeah."

The two of them grabbed the heavy water cooler, hauling towards the emergency exit.

Simon was about to tip it when-

His nose twitched.

A single drop of blood hit the floor. His grip slipped.

The entire cooler tumbled off the bus.

It smashed into Peter's car with a sickening crunch.

The tires skidded. The car spun out.

"Stop! Stop the bus!"

-

The world flipped.

Your head smashed against the Window. Glass shattered. The noise was deafening- metal scraping, rubber burning, bodies colliding.

When the car finally stopped, you tumbled onto the dirt.

Something sharp dug into your palm.

You barely had time to process it before a sharp pain shot through your skull.

Simon appeared above you, face pale. "Shit Y/N! How many fingers am I holding up?"

You squinted, dazed. "Uh...four? No three."

Then a scream tore through your throat as you vomited blood all over Deena.

And deep in the woods, something shifted

[starberry-cupcake]

Hello, I haven't had time to read as much as I would want but I'm here with an update regardless, because if I don't keep these constant, I'm gonna forget things and this, so far, seems like a book in which I don't wanna forget things.

previously, in harrowbean the ninth:

this happened

currently, after "parodos" and ch. 1:

so I'm making up a timeline in my head with the information at hand

which is never straightforward

that'd be too easy, here in tlt we like to be kept on our toes

we like to be punched in the gut when we least expect it

so get ready for bad math

this would probably make our good friend palmolive atreides weep

I'm sorry palomilve's force ghost, I'm doing my best

SO

the first entry was the night of the emperor being terminated

the "parodos" bit (we'll get to that) is 14 months before the emperor is snuffed out

ch. 1 is nine months before the emperor kicks the bucket

I believe act 1 is going to be happening around that time, since ch. 2 seems to be following without another indication

because of what happens in "parodos" aka flashback, aka prologue 2: elecric bogaloo, we can attempt to estimate when the events of gideon happened

harrowbean tells ortus in the flashback that he's gonna train with aiglamene for 12 weeks

let's assume that's kind of the amount of time gideon trained, plus the time it took harrow to plot how to girlsplain, gatekeep and gaslight gideon into it

the only one girlbossing here is camilla, I don't make the rules

so, if gideon and harrow were ready to leave the ninth somewhere around 2-3 months after the flashback, it'd be circa 11 months before the events in the prologue

and ch. 1 starts 9 months before the events in the prologue

so gideon might have happened somewhere around 11-10 months before the prologue

I can't tell how long they were in canaan house (it felt like 12 years and 5 minutes at the same time) but I think about a month is mostly right, given that once bodies start dropping, things are all happening together

all of this is relative, since time in space is ????

but I need to do this for my own peace of mind

if you give me time measurements I'm gonna measure, ok?

I need to organize things

I know I will end up making a graphic at some point I just know it

this is what I get for calling palmolive a turbonerd

ANYWAY, MOVING ON

or, moving back, since we're in prologue 2: electric bogaloo aka flashback time

here we have ortus (the one we knew, not the one we will get to know, according to the characters list) telling harrow he doesn't wanna go to the field trip

this is ortus

if you're wondering why I don't nickname ortus, I'll repeat myself but "orto" means "ass" where I'm from, so that's enough to remember him by

harrow is like "I know you're underqualified but we're understaffed, so it is what it is"

the important part is that harrowbean says she sees the barbie in the freezer walking about

like a ghost or whatnot

she refers to her as "the body" and I assume that's barbie in the ice cube because someone reblogged my recap where I mentioned her and tagged

ever since then I've been wondering why she was referred to as The Body and now I'm gonna assume this is it

so harrow tells ortus he needs to hide the fact that she's mentally unstable

[non funny side note: masking is unbearable and it's awful we live in a social and cultural environment where we feel pressured to do it, especially when you're an adult having to fulfill expectations of supposedly "age-specific" activities and responsibilities, it's exhausting and I cried about that in therapy a mere week ago so, hitting hard, this bit

don't let people make you feel "less than" because the way in which you navigate the world and your experiences is different from what's expected in some theoretical socially constructed category

and fuck everyone who, in order to put people down in arguments online, ever make fun of those who aren't mentally, economically or socially as independent as what the category of an adult is supposed to be to them

argue with concepts, argue with opinions and facts, don't tear people down in the name of "moral upper hand" by telling people they're losers for needing help

side note done]

so, harrow entered the whole canaan thing not only carrying the weight of her house, her family and her entire people

she also came into it believing she's not mentally sound and seeing The Body walking around unnoticed by other people

whether or not her visions are mentally unsettled or something that actually happens because she opened the tomb, just the whole situation of her birth is enough to make anyone collapse, so we got you, harrowbean

we're here for you

and all that without mentioning what it'd be like seeing your girlfriend cavalier impale herself in front of you

I'm taking liberties with the 'girlfriend' bit but idk

so, next we know, 5 months have passed from that and harrowcita is struggling in her new environment of the clown emperor's ship

she is made to carry gideon's sword and she can't

she can't seem to know what to do or to communicate with said knowledge and she's throwing up a lot

WHICH IS GREAT!!!!!

I mean, it's not great that she's suffering

but it's GREAT because if she can't communicate with gideon's slurped soul, maybe it means gideon's soul has not been slurped AT ALL

more fuel for my wishful thinking of gideon's soul returning to her and getting regenerated and saved and being alive

I also like very much this situation in which harrow sees the sword as personified and they hate each other without gideon

it's like prim's cat in the hunger games with katniss

but with an inanimate object

I'm really liking that dynamic

is like they both miss her and can't relate to each other

ALSO barbie body ice cube is still there

just chillin' and being silently supportive, I think

not sure what her deal is but what if she's not the bad one here? because this emperor kind of sucks tbh

not in a 'he's evil' way but in a 'idk if he know what he's doing' way

I don't know about this guy tbh

so we're leaving off with harrow being mentally and physically struggling, ghost barbie roamin' the rooms, voices of people organizing stock and gideon in my head like this, walking in limbo to get back to us

also, another day without camilla

I thought I wasn't gonna have much to say and this is so long, I'm so sorry...