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persevereforahappyending · 10 months ago

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A Beacon in the Dark |5|

Pairing: Joey x Reader

Summary: Joey likes helping people, it's what she's best at. Hunting down the monsters of myth and legend might be the best way to save people.

Warnings: Blood, Death, Fighting, Shooting, Stabbing, Murder, Attempted Murder

Word Count: 5.6k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You smiled and brushed shoulders with people as you weaved your way through the crowd. Your eyes hadn’t left Karoline since you caught sight of her, she was still in the doorway of the room, looking out over everyone. Just standing there she commanded attention, you couldn’t help but look at her, with her blonde hair all done up and the white dress that hung off her, making her look like a Greek goddess.

“Hello,” you greeted, giving her a small bow when you got close enough. She hummed, barely sparing you a glance.

“Would you-”

“I’m not in the mood to dance,” she cut you off.

You couldn’t help but smirk, the woman clearly thought highly of herself. “Good thing I wasn’t going to ask you.”

You turned, watching the crowd dance around. Despite looking at the crowd you never lost sight of Joey in the corner talking to Marcus. She was a natural, pretending to be indifferent so he’d chase her. You tried to contain your smirk as you felt Karoline’s eyes on you.

“If not a dance,” she said, you didn’t miss the hint of curiosity in your voice. “Then what did you want?”

“A toast,” you said. Timing it perfectly as you reached out, grabbing two glasses of Champaign from a waiter as he passed the doorway. You spun around, handing a glass out to her. She glanced down at the glass in your hand but only waited a second to take it from you.

“To an eventful night,” you raised your glass. “May all your desires come true.” She tilted her head at your words but clinked her glass against yours.

“To an eventful night,” she said, bringing the glass to her lips.

You turned back to the crowd, not giving any more attention to Karoline. You could feel Karoline’s eyes on you the entire time. You smirked as you brought the glass of Champaign to your lips. You had her right where you wanted her, it was only a matter of time.

“And what is it you desire?” she asked.

You shrugged. You turned back to face her, taking her empty glass out of her hands and putting it on the tray of another waiter passing by. “Something extraordinary.”

She hummed. “Then why are you wasting time talking to me?” She raised an eyebrow. “You seemed to enjoy dancing around with that girl,” she wrinkled her nose.

“There’s no need to be jealous sweetheart.”

She burst out into a laugh. Most people would probably be offended at being laughed at like that, but not you, it only made you cockier. “You think someone like me gets jealous?”

“No,” you said simply. “I think you’re someone who always gets what she wants.”

“And what do I want?” She turned her entire body to face you, crossing her arms and raising an expectant eyebrow.

You stepped forward, placing your hand on the wall beside her head, partially blocking her in. You stared right into your eyes but then moved closer, bringing your lips close enough that they were just barely brushing against her ear. You couldn’t help but smirk at the way you heard her breath hitch. “A wild, thrilling night, where all your desires come true,” you whispered. “A night to die for.” You knew you were being a little obvious, but you knew you had her right where you wanted her if the look in her eye was anything to go by.

As soon as you leaned back Karoline grabbed you by the hand and led you out of the main room. You smirked, she was either going to attempt to murder you, then you’d know who the killer was, or you’d get to make out with an attractive lady, either way it was a win for you. You let her drag you around, taking note of the various weapons, suits of armor, and old paintings along the way.

When the two of you were far enough away to not hear any of the party going on Karoline whipped around, putting a hand on your chest, and pushed you until your back hit the wall. You smirked, looking down a Karoline’s lips before they were suddenly on yours. You kissed her back just as passionately, raising your hands to rest on her shoulders but almost as soon as you touched her, she pushed your hands way. She didn’t pull away though, she just pressed her body closer to you, pushing you harder against the wall.

You let out a hiss when she bit your lip. When she finally broke the kiss, you couldn’t help but bring a finger to your lip. When you looked up from your bloody finger you noticed the hungry look in her eyes. You narrowed your eyes, she quite literally looked like she was going to eat you, you knew she wasn’t a vampire though, you had pictures of her, taken during the day, outside, in the sun.

She pushed you back against the wall harder, making you let out a groan. Before you could react, her mouth was on yours again. You instantly became breathless but not because she was kissing you. You grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to pry her off you, it was like she was sucking the life out of you.

She pulled away, leaving you gasping for air. She had her eyes closed as she finished breathing in your essence, or life force, or whatever it was called. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled widely at you. “Aren’t you a fascinating specimen,” she whispered mainly to herself. Her eyes raked your body up and down as she licked her lips. “You’re going to make a delicious meal.”

When she leaned in again to continue sucking you dry you used all your force to push her back, sending her stumbling across the room. You stumbled away, feeling lightheaded from whatever she did to you. As you started to tumble to the floor you reached out, grabbing the wall to brace yourself. When you looked up you saw Karoline standing in the middle of the hallway, looking pissed, she was eyeing you like you’d be her last meal.

As soon as she stepped toward you something flew past you, hitting her in the shoulder. She let out an inhuman scream as she brought a hand to her shoulder. You looked back to see Joey with her gun raised, firing off a few more shots, each one finding its home in Karoline. She let out another screech before taking off down the hall.

You leaned back against the wall, sliding down it until you were resting on the ground. “Are you okay?” Joey asked, kneeling down by your side.

You nodded, closing your eyes and taking a few deep breaths; it was like she had sucked the energy right out of you. “Thanks,” you rasped out. “How did you find me?”

“You weren’t answering comms.” You let out a light chuckle, Grace had a habit of worrying about you when you didn’t check in, at least with Joey she could now actually send someone to help you.

Joey reached up, tapping her ear bud. “Yeah, I got ‘em.”

You reached up to tap yours. You had turned it off in the car, so Grace didn’t have to hear everything. “What happened?” Grace’s voice crackled through your own ear bud.

“It’s Karoline,” you said.

“What did I tell you about leaving your comms on?”

You let out a sigh, you were never going to hear the end of this. You didn’t miss Joey’s ghost of a smile. “Look, whatever she is, she tried to suck the life out of me.”

Joey furrowed her brow. “What do mean?”

“I mean she leaned in to…” you trailed off, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “We-we were going to-you see-”

“You hooked up with her,” there was no surprise in Grace’s voice, she knew you too well.

“No!” You instantly defended, you wouldn’t consider it hooking up, you were going to, but it never got that far. So, as far as you were concerned, it didn’t count. “Instead of leaning in to kiss me, she leaned in and began sucking my soul out,” you gestured to your chest and made a movement to represent your soul leaving your body. Joey just tilted her head and scrunched her eyebrows at you. “Or my life force, whatever,” you waved it off. “All I know is, I felt like I was dying.”

“That could explain why the victims look the way they do,” Joey said. “No weapons, no claws, no fangs, but the life literally being sucked out of them,” she nodded, and you nodded along with her, it was all making sense.

“I’ll do some research,” Grace said. “See what I can find and get back to you.”

“I shot her,” Joey added. “She was definitely injured but ran off, I don’t think it killed her though.”

“Okay, be on guard.” Joey helped you back to your feet. “Oh, and Y/N, this isn’t over.” With that she ended the conversation. You just sighed, letting your head hang low, you were definitely going to be getting an ear full when you got home.

“How do you want to do this?” Joey asked.

You sighed and pulled out the gun in your waistband. At least the party was fun while it lasted. “We track her down,” you said.

You walked over to where Karoline had been standing, kneeling down when you saw drops of blood. You dabbed two of your fingers onto the droplet and raised them to get a better view.

“Is her blood black?” Joey questioned.

You nodded. “Some monsters have different colored blood,” you explained. “Vampires, werewolves, witches,” Joey raised her eyebrows as you listed creatures off. “And many others have red blood, just like humans. But there’s a few things out there, demons and other things that have a different color.”

“So, could she be a demon?”

You rubbed the blood around your fingers. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “Demon blood is black, but it has a different texture. This blood,” you looked from Joey to the blood on your fingers. “Is like normal blood, like mine or yours. Demon’s though, their blood is more like tar, a sticky endless black void,” you wrinkled your nose. “It’s a pain in the ass to get off.”

Joey didn’t say anything else, she just gave a little nod. Vampires were already a lot to take in, you couldn’t imagine what was going through her head as you casually talked about demons and other creatures. You took out your handkerchief and wiped your fingers of the blood, that was the first time one of those had even come in handy for you, though you were sure Grace would also yell at you for the blood all over it.

You stumbled a few steps and stood up. Almost instantly you felt one of Joey’s hands rest on your back while the other loosely gripped your arm. “Are you sure you’re, okay?” She asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You tapped your comms. “Grace?”

It took a few seconds but then you heard a groan. “Already?” she sighed.

You silently chuckled. “Whatever this is, it has black blood.”

“Okay, I’ll add it to the search.”

You turned back to Joey, watching as she looked up and down the hall to make sure no one would be coming anytime soon. “Hey,” you said, getting her attention. “Whatever happens, I got your back, okay?” Joey nodded. “Just follow my lead.”

Both of you kept your guns drawn but pointed at the floor as you began making your way down the hall. You had been so distracted at nearly having the life sucked out of you you didn’t pay attention to which way she went. There weren’t many rooms in the hall, and you didn’t hear any doors close, so you figured she most likely didn’t duck into one of the rooms.

When you got near the end of the hall it split left and right and then there was a staircase in the middle. You signaled for Joey to go right, while you took the left. The two of you pressed yourselves against your respective corners and with a single nod you each moved, making your way down your respective halls. There was four rooms down the left hall, you slowly opened the doors and began clearing each of them. You made sure to glance back at Joey every time you entered or exited a room, she was doing fine, her hall seemed to be the same as yours.

The two of you met back up at the bottom of the stairs and slowly made your way up. You pulled your gun, aiming it at the top of the staircase in case Karoline was hiding, waiting to catch either of you off guard. When it seemed clear you continued your way up the rest of the staircase. There was a hall off to the right but didn’t seem to contain any rooms, just a wall of old décor and art. In front of you was a long corridor that seemed to stretch all way back from where you originally came.

You looked back at Joey, silently asking her if she was still good. When she gave you a nod you slowly began inching your way down the corridor. The corridor was dimly lit every few feet, there were shields and suits of armor lining each side of the wall. You passed several doors, turning the knob and letting them swing open as each of you did a quick check.

“I got something,” Grace’s voice crackled through your earpiece, nearly making you jump.

“What’s up?” you whispered back. You weren’t sure if whatever Karoline was included enhanced hearing. For all you knew she was leading you and Joey into a trap, for all you knew, you were right where she wanted you and she was just lying in wait.

“A succubus.” You stopped to look back at Joey who was giving you the most confused look you had seen from her. “Not sure about black blood,” it sounded like Grace was flipping through pages, half distracted from the conversation. “There’s various stories and versions.”

You nodded your head, bobbing it back and forth, that was typical, it seemed every country had a different version of a myth, sometimes multiple. Different cultures had different versions of what they called a vampire or werewolf and many other myths. Some aspects were shared across cultures but then had different names, others were completely different and seemed like a whole other monster all together.

“But to summarize,” Grace continued. “A succubus is a very attractive woman, or demon,” you nodded, that was a fairly accurate description of Karoline. “Who uses sex to feed to feed off their victims.” Ignored the side glance Joey was giving you. “They just suck the life right out of you.”

“Any way to kill them?” you asked. Seemed as though you dodged a bullet. It was a little harder to kill you than a normal human, that was probably the only reason you lasted as long as you did, anyone else probably would have been sucked dry by the time Joey got to them.

“They’re most powerful after feeding.” You rolled your eyes; she might not have killed you but Karoline feeding off you definitely gave her a boost. “A bullet to the head might work.”

“Might?” Joey asked.

“Decapitation seems like the best bet.”

“It’s always decapitation,” you sighed.

“We only have guns,” Joey said slowly. “How the hell are we supposed to decapitate a succubus?”

“I have a hunting knife,” you reached down and grabbed the knife you always kept strapped to your ankle.

Joey gave you a look that was even more murderous than when Karoline was trying to kill you. “Do you have any idea how long it would take for that,” she pointed at your knife. “To saw through bone?” You opened your mouth, but she held up her hand, clearly not actually wanting you to respond. “Besides, we’d have to incapacitate her to even attempt something like that.”

You shrugged, looking around. “This is a mansion,” you gestured around. “There must be something. I mean,” you walked over to a suit of armor. “There’s weapons everywhere.” You ripped out the sword the knight was holding, ignoring the way the arm fell to the ground with a loud clatter.

“There’s no way that’s sharp enough,” Joey gestured at the sword in your hands.

You reached up, tapping the tip of the sword, then ran your hand across the edge of the blade. You brought back your hand, nodding, there wasn’t even a mark. “Well, do you have a better idea?”

Joey rolled her eyes and walked back the you had just come from. You furrowed your brow as she grabbed something off the wall, only to see it was one of the axes that you had passed. She then walked to another suit of armor, and put her gun back in her thigh holster, before grabbing the shield that was in its hands. You raised an eyebrow at her, but she just shrugged. You couldn’t blame her, a shield could come in handy, you weren’t used to protecting yourself, you tended to just get injured, and then Grace would be irritated with your lack of care for your own safety.

You held the sword in your dominant hand, keeping it raised slightly, while you held your gun in your other hand, keeping it raised as you continued on down the hall. You and Joey slowed your movements as you neared the end of the hall. Another hall went off to the right but there was a large set of double doors in front of you. When you glanced down the hall to the right it wasn’t as long, stretching down until there was a matching set of double doors.

You grabbed hold of the door handle, looking back at Joey, who gave you a nod, before pressing down and letting the door open. The two of you made your way into the room, staying close as you entered. Unlike all the other rooms this one was a large grand ballroom. It was the length of the one downstairs that the party was taking place in, though the ceiling was higher, and it was still in its original condition, whereas the one downstairs had been restored, most likely to keep up appearances for hosting parties.

You were taken aback at the sight of Karoline making out with Marcus at the other end of the room. You looked back at Joey; her face told you that you were in fact seeing what you thought you were, and it wasn’t you just suddenly becoming delirious. When Karoline pulled away you could see something with a blueish tint, though she wasn’t sucking it out of Marcus, he was sucking it out of her. She smiled wide as Marcus took a deep breath, inhaling it all in, as a small smile broke out onto his face as well.

“See, honey,” Karoline said, turning to face you and Joey. “I told you so.” When she turned you could see the wound in her shoulder had already healed.

“Honey?” you asked. Your eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. It seemed you were right on Karoline being the killer, Grace was right about the succubus of it all, but you were all wrong about there being only one killer.

“You were right dear,” Marcus said. “Quite the fascinating specimen.” He stepped forward, unbuttoning his jacket.

“They’re married,” Joey said. You whipped your head back to look at her, nothing had indicated they knew each other, let alone that they were married.

“Clever girl,” Marcus pointed a knowing finger at her. “What gave it away?”

Joey blinked, adjusting her shoulders as she tried to appear more confident. “Tan line,” she shrugged.

You continued to look at her, unable to hide how impressed you were. Joey was great at reading people, it was her thing, you knew that, it’s one of the reasons Grace liked her. You never would have guessed Joey was so good that she’d clock Marcus as being married during only one conversation with the guy, when no one else had ever figured it out, not even you or Grace.

Marcus looked down, turning his hand back and forth as he looked at said finger. “We don’t get to wear them often,” he looked back at Karoline with a smile. “So, we take advantage of the alone time.”

“You mean, when you’re not killing people,” you said.

Karoline shrugged. “We are what we are, you know what that’s like,” Karoline said.

Your entire body tensed; you clenched your jaw as you glared at her, ignoring the questioning look Joey shot you. Karoline’s smile only got bigger. “I can’t wait to get my hands back on you,” her entire body shuddered at the idea of having you again. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to kill your girlfriend first.”

“Oh, she’s not-”

“We’re not-” you and Joey spoke at the same time, cutting each other off.

“Whatever,” Marcus snapped. “You got your taste,” he looked back at his wife. “Now, it’s my turn.” Karoline crossed her arms but didn’t move to stop him.

“Guess, I’ll play with the girlfriend,” Karoline sighed.

Neither you nor Joey had time to deny the claim again before the two were moving. You caught Joey swinging her axe to keep Karoline at arm’s length. You swung your sword as Marcus approached but he was quicker, tackling you and slamming you into one of the wood pillars on the wall. You groaned at the impact but when you tried to push back Marcus held you in place.

You moved your arm with the sword, but Marcus was quick to reach up, pinning your wrist high above your head. The weight of the sword and his grip tightening around your wrist made you drop the sword. Marcus leaned in and you instantly started to feel lightheaded as he began to suck the life out of you, just like Karoline had tried to do.

Black spots decorated your vision but through the blurriness you could see Joey pushing Karoline back with the shield. At one point Joey held Karoline back and swung her axe, nailing Karoline in the side. Karoline let out a howl of pain, making Marcus stop sucking out your life so he could look back at his wife.

You gasped for breath, trying to take in as much air as you could get. Them sucking out your life was like being submerged under water, fighting your way to the surface, unable to breathe. Marcus let out what you could only describe as an angry growl, but he didn’t release you, he just turned back, a dark look in his eyes as he leaned in again.

Despite his tight grip on your other arm, you moved it, aiming blindly to the best of your ability, then pulled the trigger. Marcus let out the same screech Karoline did, quickly letting you go and scurrying away as he held his bleeding leg. You collapsed to the ground, feeling around for the sword you dropped as your eyes never left Marcus, your sole focus on the black blood gushing from between his fingers.

Marcus gritted his teeth, taking his hand away from his wound he stumbled forward, his eyes never leaving you. You slid back, trying to get away from him when your pinky brushed against the cool metal of the sword.

Marcus raised his hands as if he was going to jump on you and hold you down as he sucked the rest of the life out of you. As soon as he jumped you tightened your grip on the hilt of the sword and raised it, impaling Marcus straight through the heart. His body slid down the blade, landing on top of you.

You ignored the loud screech of his wife as you kicked his body off of you, ripping the sword out of his chest. As you pulled yourself back to your feet you ignored the black blood that was surely splattered all over you. You tilted your head down at Marcus, watching as he gurgled up black blood. You wrapped both hands around the hilt of the sword, tightening your grip before raising it high above your head then brought it down onto his neck with all your strength. Despite being dull the blade sliced through Marcus’s neck, leaving his head detached from his body and his eyes wide open as they continued to stare up at you.

You held up the sword, looking at the black blood coating the blade as you turned to face Karoline and Joey. Joey stood there, shield and axe raised, her eyes never leaving Karoline. Karoline kept backing up, her eyes darting from you to Joey manically.

Karoline let out another screech and ran towards Joey. Using both hands you raised your sword and ran at Karoline, meeting her before she could get to Joey. You shoved the sword through her chest. You didn’t stop pushing her back until Karoline’s back hit the wall and you heard the crack of wood, indicating the sword was impaled through Karoline and into the wall.

You looked back at Joey, nodding to give her the go ahead. You kept your grip on the hilt, making sure Karoline wouldn’t be able to rip it out. Joey stalked forward, spinning the handle of the axe in her hand before raising it, she swung giving a quick and clean swing through Karoline’s neck. Karoline’s head rolled off to the side and you let go of the sword, letting her body slide to the floor next to her head.

“Are you okay?” you asked, still slightly breathless.

You turned your head when you heard the axe clatter to the floor. “Hey,” you said softly, reaching out to gently brush Joey’s shoulder. As soon as your finger grazed her, she flinched, blinking rapidly as she turned, seeming to forget you were there. “It’s okay,” you spoke calmly, keeping a firm grip on her shoulder. “You’re okay.”

Joey nodded, letting out a shaky breath as she tried to get ahold of herself. “Can we get the hell out of here?” Joey finally asked, her voice quieter than usual.

You nodded. You quickly informed Grace the mission was done and that you would be on your way back shortly. You grabbed the sword, shield, and axe, wiping the blood and any other evidence off them as best as you could. When you were done you reached for Joey’s hand, ignoring the way she flinched by tightening your grip around her hand.

“What about the bodies?” Joey asked as you led her back out of the room.

“There’s too many people here,” you answered. You dragged Joey with you into one of the rooms, ducking into the bathroom. “Grace and I will take care of it later tonight.”

You flipped on the sink and began scrubbing your face and hands clean. “Won’t someone find them?”

You looked at Joey, noticing she got away clean, except a bit of blood splatter on her hands. When you finished up you moved to the side, allowing her access to the sink. “This portion of the house is off limits. No one should be coming over here.”

As Joey scrubbed her hands clean you took a washcloth and began dabbing your suit. Thankfully your suit was black so the black blood blended right in. You were just going to need to make sure to get back outside without drawing too much attention.

When the two of you were acceptably cleaned up you took hold of Joey’s hand again and led her back through the corridors and down the stairs you had originally walked through. When you started to hear the sounds of the party again you adjusted your suit and swung an arm around Joey, leaning in to look like the two of you were whispering. You didn’t bother looking at anyone and made sure to move out of the way, so no one brushed against you as the two of you made your way through the crowd and back to the front door.

You snapped your fingers for the valet. You kept your arm around Joey as you made your way down the steps. By the time the two of you got to the bottom the valet had pulled up your car and was standing in front of it, ready to hand you the keys. You waved him off as you took the keys and opened the passenger door yourself. Joey gave you a kind smile as you closed the door. You tossed the valet guy a small tip as you made your way around the front of the car and got in the driver’s side.

You drove away, not looking at Joey until you were a little ways away from the mansion. “How are you doing?” you asked.

“I’m okay,” Joey said, continuing to stare out the windshield.

“You did good.” You kept flicking a glance at her. Joey just nodded, not saying anything else.

You continued the drive in a comfortable silence until you were pulling to a stop outside of Joey’s apartment. When the car came to a stop Joey looked around, furrowing her brow. “Why’d you bring be back here?” she questioned.

“You live here?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“But the dress,” she looked down at herself.

“It’s late, figured you could use the rest,” you shrugged. “I’ll pick up the dress next time, unless you aren’t interested in the job anymore?”

Joey sat there silently, looking down at her hands in her lap. “Today was a lot,” she finally whispered. You nodded, looking down as your fingers mindlessly tapped the steering wheel. “It’s certainly going to take some getting used to,” she said more confidently.

Your head instantly snapped up. “Does that mean-”

“Call me when you need me for anything,” Joey smirked. “Whether it’s another case,” she gestured with her hand. “Or to teach me something new.”

You couldn’t help but break out into a smile and quickly nod. You waved her goodbye and as soon as you saw her step foot into her apartment building you sped away. You relaxed your shoulders; you didn’t realize how relieved you would be at Joey officially agreeing to work with you and Grace. You knew she was strong but fighting monsters wasn’t for everyone, you didn’t want this most recent one to scare her off.

Before you knew it you were pulling back up to Grace’s house. You open the garage, gently parking the car back in its spot and putting the keys back in the little key box next to the others. You put your gun and knife away as you walked through the weapons room and staggered into the main portion of the house.

As you walked through the house you noticed the door to Grace’s office was cracked open. You considered going to debrief with her but opted to go to your room instead. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you stomped up the steps, it had been a while since a mission exhausted you so much.

You tossed your jacket onto the chest in front of your bed and began undoing your tie when you heard the door creak open. You tossed the tie on top of the jacket, then the vest, and didn’t waste time ripping off your shirt and tossing it into the pile as well.

“Are you okay?” Grace asked softly.

You turned around to face Grace. “Tired,” you answered.

“Any new wounds I need to worry about?” Grace rested a hand on your shoulder to turn you around to get a better view of you. You didn’t miss the way Grace’s fingers grazed over your scars, the wounds she’s seen and had patched up when you originally got them.

You smirked, making Grace roll her eyes. You spun around so she could see all of you. “Injury free,” you said proudly, your arms wide open.

“For once,” she glared at you. “But are you okay, really?” she rested a hand on your cheek, looking deep into your eyes. “You know the only reason neither of them killed you is because-”

“I know,” you cut her off, keeping your voice soft. “I know. I’m okay. Fucking tired,” you chuckled. “But okay.”

Grace stared at you for a second longer, you knew she was searching, making sure you weren’t trying to brush her off. “How’d she do?”

You smiled, silently chuckling to yourself. “She did good,” you nodded. “She’s a total badass.” Grace smiled at your words. “She’s willing to continue working with us.”

Grace gave an approving nod. “Get in the shower and then go to sleep,” she ordered, brushing past you to grab your dirty clothes. “Leave your pants by the door, I’ll grab them once I hear the water running.”

“Thank you.”

She waved you off and gently shoved you towards the bathroom. “I’ll have breakfast ready for you in the morning.”

You nodded and followed her orders. You tilted back your head, letting the water wash over you. You made sure to scrub all the succubus blood off you. Despite wearing a three-piece suit, you still ended up with succubus blood all over. It was gross but it wasn’t sticky like demon blood, this blood just washed right off and down the drain, that was the one plus about it.

You threw on a simple pair of sweatpants and t-shirt and collapsed onto the bed. You groaned as you crawled under the covers. Your last thought was of hoping you didn’t suffer from nightmares for once and got a good night’s sleep, before sleeping consumed you.

Taglist: @thinking1bee @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @alexkolax @pianogirl2121

#joey abigail #joey (abigail)#ana lucia cruz #ana lucia cruz abigail #joey (abigail) x reader #ana lucia cruz x reader #melissa barrera #abigail 2024 #abigail movie #ana lucia cruz (joey)#a beacon in the dark

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moonbeamsandmayhem · 1 year ago

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a/n: Eddie x fem!Reader. It’s been a while. Thank you all so much for bearing with me. This is a purely self-indulgent blurb/fic. Not beta read. Inspired after author watched Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire.

warnings: oral, penetration, dom/sub undertones if you squint, edging, reader with a vagina, Eddie being a little shit. I think that’s it! As always, please DM me if I missed anything.

October 31st, 1996 - 10:25pm

The candy had been eaten, scares given, and costumes put away for another year. You had gladly been on candy duty for a majority of the evening at the community centre, giving out treats, facilitating games for the little ones, and telling ghost stories to enraptured ten year olds who hung off your every word.

As for Eddie, he was running a DnD one-shot for the teens down the hallway. Occasionally you could hear raucous laughter and some profanities spew from the din. It brought a smile to your face knowing that he could still command a room like he had not-so-many years ago at Hawkins High.

But now, you’re home. In your shared apartment. Your legs are on his lap, while you balance a bowl of popcorn on yours. Your eyes are glued to the screen, watching as Dana Barrett and Louis Tully embrace, kissing passionately, the Keymaster and the Gatekeeper reunited at long last.

Your periphery catches movement as Eddie’s hand reaches for the popcorn before landing squarely (purposefully) on your thigh. You rip your attention from the TV to lift a curious brow at him, only to be met with a smirk. “Something on your mind, handsome?”

He croons, smirk growing to a full blown smile. “A few things, yeah,” Eddie admits, hand inching a little higher, “just thinkin’ about how killer you’d look in that dress.” He nods back to the screen, referring to the gown Dana’s wearing.

“You think I can pull that off?” You scoff.

“Sweetheart, you can pull off a god damn trash bag.”

“I’m not Sigourney Weaver, Eddie.”

“She’s got nothing on you.” He tugs the bowl from out of your grasp, placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention. Leaning over, he cages you in, forcing you full on your back against the couch. Eddie’s lips brush against yours, silently asking for permission, with a small peck against his, he surges against you like a man trying to quench his thirst. His hands are everywhere, as are yours, a whirlwind of disregarded clothes find themselves unceremoniously on the floor, but you’re both too distracted to care.

“You looked so hot in that witch’s outfit, babe. Was hard to keep it together tonight.” He latches on to the space where shoulder meets neck, sucking in a bruise.

“Y-you looked pretty hand - fuck - handsome yourself. The eyeliner, the fake-fangs, like something out of The Lost Boys, Christ, Ed’s.”

“Mhm. You like a bad boy, don’t ya, sweets?” Lathing the spot with the flat of his tongue. You shudder, eyes rolling back a little, losing yourself - did he say something? He nips at your skin and you gasp. “I asked you a question.”

“Could - could you repeat the - ah - shit - you’re distracting me, Munson.” You pout.

“Am I?” He looks at you with those big brown eyes, all faux-innocence and one-hundred percent mischief. “My bad.”

“Asshole.”

Eddie chuckles softly, “Guilty as charged. Now, are you gonna let me continue being a distraction or…?”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Yes.”

You cum three times. First, on his tongue. And he makes you work for it, pay back for calling him an asshole. He lifts you higher and higher then pulls his affections away, leaving fluttery kisses around your clit before he starts again. He does this four times until you’re nearly sobbing. It’s a rather messy affair when he finally lets you cum, snapping like a taut wire, and gushing all over him.

Still dazed and trembling from the power of your orgasm, he pulls a second with practiced fingers. Playing you like he plays his guitar, making you sing into the howling night. You’re begging for his cock now, begging to cream all over it, but he shushes you as he works in a fourth digit. You arch your back clear off the couch like a woman possessed, you cum harder than you have in your life.

Or so you thought.

When Eddie eases into you, it’s the closest thing to heaven you can imagine. He stretches you and fills you just right, the piercing on the tip of his cock finding that spot only he knows how to he reach. He presses his forehead to yours, muttering to keep your eyes on him. And you do, because how could you possibly look away? Not only does he fuck you like tonight is the last night on Earth, he makes love to you as if you’re the only two people left on the planet. Slow, self-assured, comforting, everything else dissolves around you. You cum so hard you see stars. Your lungs burn, robbed of air, as you clench and cream and gush. He empties into you with such a guttural groan of relief at the exact same moment, sweat beading his beautiful brow. He pumps, once, twice, a third time, then lays on top of you, satiated, dipping his head a little to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“You absolute menace.” You tease, with an exhausted smile, leaning forward to capture his lips.

“What can I say? Bustin’ makes me feel good, baby.”

#dd writes #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson/you #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female character

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redtsundere-writes · 11 months ago

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Chapter 10: Killers

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

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You faithfully believed that King Sukuna's castle was the darkest place on earth. Not even the caves in the hidden mountains or the depths of the ocean were as dark as the place that has been your home for the past 365 days. Furniture stained in black varnish, complex undiscovered passages and tinted windows that didn’t allow the sun to enter. There were corners forgotten by everyone and in absolute darkness. Sukuna and Uraume were already used to it, since this castle had been here for the past 500 years, but the servants despised it completely. Especially in winter, when the sun is not so intense, it is freezing cold, and they must walk everywhere with a candlestick in hand to avoid tripping over something hidden in the shadows. In addition, every morning they had to make sure that all the torches were lit, one more task in their repertoire of responsibilities. Despite all the attempts to dimly light the place from the inside, there were always places that the servants feared to enter.

Kenjaku entered the library at 10 o'clock as usual. He trusted that you would be sitting by the window while reading something as he arrived, but that wasn’t the case. His sight checked the perimeter, there was no sign of you. “Is she with the king?” he questioned as he left the library. This was out of your character. He began to patiently search for you among the corridors. His first instinct was to head for King Sukuna's office. To his surprise, neither the king nor you were there. His second stop would be your room. His calm, subtle footsteps made their way discreetly to one of the most opaque areas of the castle. The spiral staircase that led to your room was not well lit. It was covered in concrete walls and was so narrow that there were no torches to illuminate the passage.

Your teacher found you sitting at the foot of the first step while reading a heavy book with the help of a small candlestick. The only thing that made the seat slightly more comfortable was the red carpet that decorated the center of the stairs. A heavy fungi encyclopedia hung over your legs, revealing some hand-drawn pictures of different types of edible mushrooms. You remembered how your mother always made sure you didn't pick any poisonous mushrooms for dinner because you might accidentally kill someone.

You missed the woman who used to be your mother. Despite being a greedy woman who wanted to live her dreams through her daughters, she used to be someone who cared about them being good people and knowing how to defend themselves from the dangerous world around them. She used to be a woman of strong character who would not let anyone make fun of her or her convictions. A dedicated mother who lovingly scolded them so that they would always be the best versions of themselves and stay out of trouble. It was a shame that you no longer knew the woman you once loved. Her image passed away along with your father’s.

You had been thinking the last few days about the easiest way to create an almost odorless and tasteless poison so that anyone could consume it without problems. Mushrooms were the first thing you thought of. All that remained was to know what kind you had to use to make the first attempt a success and where to get it. Maybe you could ask Uraume or Kenjaku to bring you some, since you were not allowed to leave the castle, but they could. Sukuna ordered you to kill someone, but he did not forbid you to ask his servants for help in doing so.

“Are you lost?,” Kenjaku greeted you with a friendly grin. “What are you doing here?”

“Today is harvest day,” you answered with a sad look on your face before turning the page.

It was finally the first anniversary since your mother sold you as a servant, met Mrs. Inoue and sworn allegiance to the terrible king. It was also the anniversary of the death of that little nameless boy whom you could not protect that terrible morning. Even though you kept telling yourself that what happened was not your fault, you still felt a heavy weight of guilt on your back. You could have done more, shouted more, fought more, but you didn't. He was taken from you. They snatched him out of your hands and murdered him right under your nose. There wasn't a week that went by that you didn't remember him and feel your heart shrink.

“The library window overlooks the parade ground. I don't want to see a live slaughter,” you explained before closing the book and hugging it to your chest in a failed attempt to comfort yourself.

You remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. You never thought you would see so many pools of blood, hear desperate screams and feel the icy terror coursing through your veins in your entire life, let alone just one. What you thought would be a casual day turned out to be your welcoming to your definition of hell on earth. Sometimes you had nightmares about what the day of your death would be like. Sukuna murdering you without a second thought for not keeping your word, breaking something of value or, worse, not giving him a son. The thought of failing terrified you, but the thought of failing at something you couldn't quite control was far, far worse.

“Genocide,” Kenjaku corrected you. You looked at him quizzically, confused as to what he meant. “It's not slaughter, it's genocide,” he explained with a smile. You nodded as you understood that he was expanding your vocabulary. “I think it's a good opportunity for you to get used to death.”

“I don't want to get used to it, I don't want to become...” You couldn't finish the sentence as you realized what you were about to say.

“A monster like the king?” Kenjaku asked you with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I was going to say 'a killer’.” Now you were the one who corrected him. “Of the few good qualities I have, being a pacifist is one of them. I can't imagine missing that piece of myself.”

“You know you're about to marry one, don't you?” He asked you seriously.

“That doesn't mean I should become one, does it?” You answered with another question.

“He who kills the cow sins as much as he who grabs its leg,” Kenjaku quoted with an air of wisdom while patting you on the head as if he was saying, “Poor little innocent thing.”

His mouth was spitting facts, and you hated it when he was like that. Even though you had become his servant against your will, you could always decide to commit suicide to avoid being part of a heartless tyrant's macabre plans. A truly good person would rather die than kill someone else. If you married Sukuna, it meant you were on the same level as him. Maybe you weren't as good as you thought you were. You sighed and hid your face in your hands.

“Marriage is about making sacrifices. Are you ready to sacrifice that part of yourself for him?” Your teacher asked you while stroking your hair.

You weren't ready, not at all. You weren't doing all this because the idea of marrying a man-eater delighted you. Even though you respected that part Sukuna showed you in private, he was still a curse with a merciless heart. You would only marry him because you didn't want to disobey him and lose your life. Even though you were living in a constant hell, you didn't have the courage to just detach yourself from him in an attempt to go to heaven. You might end up in real hell.

“Have you killed someone?” You asked him, pulling your head out of his hands.

“Of course. You're looking at one,” Kenjaku answered with a proud smile.

Your eyes expanded and roamed over the body of the acquaintance you now considered strange as your master detached his skull to show you his true form. Your chest tightened as you discovered your teacher's true form. A brain with a sinister row of teeth. You couldn't believe that the handsome man in front of you was a mere puppet, a living corpse. You felt so bad for the person whose body Kenjaku had taken from you.

“How can you do that?” You asked him in a stutter, still processing what you had seen.

“Kill someone?” Kenjaku wanted to confirm the question before putting his hair back on. Although he didn't mind his appearance, he understood that you might find it strange. You nodded in fright. “Just do it,” he simply replied.

“I wish it was that easy,” you sighed.

“Why don't you start with something easier?” Kenjaku asked you.

“What do you mean?”

“Today is the harvest, isn't it? You'll see Sukuna kill a lot of people. You will be able to watch how he simply does it, maybe this way you will get a little confidence to see that it is not as difficult as you think,” he advised you with a smile.

But that smile no longer transmitted that warmth and companionship that you liked so much, now it was sinister and with double intention. What you thought was a normal man had become a beautiful memory that had been replaced with a talking brain. Now the idea of dying did not terrify you so much, you were more terrified of dying and having your body used with terrible intentions. What a terrible fate.

King Sukuna was ready to start choosing who would be the new servants to join the castle. Even though his only job was to kill useless people and sit in the comfort of his throne, he still found it tedious and boring at times. Killing people in one cut for him is as simple as cutting a piece of paper with a pair of scissors. Amidst the gloom provided by the veils, he settled into his stately seat and yawned. “How much longer will they make me wait?” he wondered. Uraume had informed him that the number of people had increased by 30% since last year, which meant that this time he had to take care of more useless parasites.

The faint sound of the door to his left brought him out of his thoughts. He arched an eyebrow when he saw you slowly entering the room. You looked more nervous and shy than usual, looking down at the floor in case you had already killed someone. Your yellow dress trailed softly against the marble floor until you reached the curtains that sheltered the king. Seeing him so close brought back memories.

For him too. He couldn't believe it had been a whole year since he first saw you. A beggar he thought he would kill instantly when he saw the lousy state you had arrived in. Malnourished, dirty and with dried tears on your cheeks. You just screamed “unseemly” with your appearance. She was glad she had given you a chance. You looked like a completely different person now. If I had known you as you currently look, I would even think you were a princess from a family rotten in gold.

“What the fuck are you doing here? You should be in class,” Sukuna scolded you with a stern tone even though on the inside he liked to see you.

“Kenjaku told me that to get used to death, I must see it. He said it would help me to be able to kill someone like you asked,” you explained as you looked around. The room looked glittering. The massacre had not yet begun. You didn't know if you had arrived at the right or wrong time.

“Is that what he said?” He asked skeptically. You nodded as you returned your gaze to his four eyes. “Not a bad idea….” He thought aloud as he scratched his chin.

Not only will you get used to seeing him in action, you'll also become familiar with the new servants. Plus it was a great excuse to spend time with you alone. It was true that they had started archery lessons a couple of days ago, but he was so busy that he sometimes relegated that task to Kenjaku. It bothered him, but he would never admit it, not even to himself.

“All right. Come closer then.”

You didn't really want to, but you were already there. You stepped through the translucent fabrics until you finally faced him. You were planning to stand next to him while you watched everything, but Sukuna had other plans. He yanked you up by the waist to make you sit on his lap. Her hands gripped your body to hold you in place. It was lucky they were in the shadows because you didn't want Sukuna to see how flushed you were. It was as if every time they met, he tried to get closer to your body and each time he was more and more direct. You could hear your own heart beating like crazy from the illusion, but that couldn't be right.

“You better not do anything stupid, you understand?” He growled in your face. You turned your face away at the intimidation. “You know what will happen if you do.” You swallowed dryly before nodding quickly.

The servant arrived with the first group. A group of helpless old men moving feebly towards their certain death. Sukuna snorted in annoyance at the worthless humans that had been brought to him. Once the servant formed them up, he fled from the room. With his left hands, the king grabbed the back of your neck and cheeks to get your attention to the scene that was about to unfold. Your body froze at the strong grip. You wanted to close your eyes, but panic forbade you to do so.

Sukuna raised two fingers towards them and cut off their heads in one motion. You shrieked at the sight of their lives being snatched away in a heartbeat. You could never do something like that. You didn't have the heart to do it. You didn't know these people or the sins they had committed throughout their lives, but you were sure they didn't deserve it. You closed your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat. This was your new life. No, this was already your life, and you still hadn't adjusted. Sukuna watched as you held back the urge to cry. Your lower lip trembled more than the rest of your body. He pulled you tighter to his body in an attempt to comfort you. He would never change who he was for you, but he could help you understand why.

You had enough, but people kept coming through that door. You didn't know how many people had arrived, so you didn't know how many times Sukuna would repeat the same pattern. Cut after cut, clean every time he did. So far, only a few had survived. You always ended up closing your eyes no matter how hard you tried to keep your eyes in front of you. You opened your eyes as soon as you heard the footsteps of other people entering the room. The maid, a tall man, a shorter one, a little old lady who could barely walk, a man without an eye and... “No way...” you thought as you saw the last person in line. You'd recognize her long brown hair, slender figure and devil-minded angel face anywhere.

The need to shout some warning at her burned your throat. You wanted to do it more than anything else in the world, but you knew Sukuna would keep his promise if you went against his will. Unruly tears that you couldn't stop before escaped wildly down your cheeks. Your eyes were glued to that face you never thought you would see again. “She's not... She shouldn't be here... What the fuck happened?” you thought, trying to convince yourself that this was a horrible nightmare. You didn't want to accept reality. You didn't want to accept that your little sister was in the same position you once were in.

“5…”

Sukuna started counting down as he had done in the previous round, just like that first day. Yorozu looked lost, as if she didn't fully understand what was going on. She looked from side to side indifferently. She would never bow down. You knew her like the back of your hand. She would never bow to anyone, even if her life depended on it, like this instant. She was always a rebel who didn't care about anyone or anything. You had to do something to prevent it, but what exactly could you do? You couldn't save an innocent child, how would you save a girl who goes against everything? Any of the ideas you had would only result in the death of both of them, but something had to be done. You weren't going to stand idly by.

“2…” The king counted aloud as he stroked your back.

The quick memory of that little boy's mutilated body came to your mind. You tightened the skirt of your dress as you cried your last tears silently. You didn't want to, rather... You weren't going to let the same story repeat itself again. You took a deep breath before you did the stupidest thing in your life. It might kill me, but that didn't matter anymore. If you died, you would be protecting your little sister.

Sukuna was about to say the one when you hugged him by the neck and pulled him close to your body. The king was paralyzed by the sudden act, so much so that he forgot what number he had been left with. His heart began to pound like crazy and his face had turned into a tomato. Your body was warm to the touch, and he liked the pressure you exerted against him to hold him as close as possible. Even though you were shaking like jelly in an earthquake, you were doing the right thing. You hid your face in his neck as you sobbed.

“I beg for mercy. That is my sister. Please don't kill her.” You begged him between sobs. Hoping that your position as a future wife would help you survive this one.

Sukuna noticed the girl at the end of the line, the only one who seemed to be close to your age. She was tall, had silky hair that reached her waist and had merciless eyes, as if she didn't mind being in a room surrounded by corpses and blood. It seemed that indifference ran in her family. For a second you wondered if she was really your sister. You could tell they were completely different. If you had turned out to be a good worker and were from the same family, the odds were high that your sister was too, despite the personality. Sukuna was patiently considering it while enjoying the warmth of your body next to him.

“Please take pity on her life. I will do anything,” you begged desperately.

“Anything?” Sukuna looked at you curiously out of the corner of his eye.

“Whatever your heart desires, I will do it, but leave my sister out of this,” you sobbed. Sukuna nodded slowly with a wicked smile.

The sound of Sukuna's slashes echoed in your ears and your heart stopped... until you heard Yorozu scream in panic. You turned to see her covered in blood, while her body trembled in fear at the sight of all the fresh bodies beside her. The important thing was that she hadn't received a scratch. Begging for her life had miraculously worked. You wiped away your tears without caring about ruining the makeup that Mrs. Inoue had applied to you in the morning.

“I'll let you know what I want later. For now, get her out of my sight.” Sukuna reluctantly dictated.

“Thank you, thank you very much, my king,” you said with a faint smile before jumping off the seat to run to your sister.

You detached yourself from his body to get out from between the curtains. Yorozu was perplexed to see you emerge so animated from the shadows where a terrible looking king was supposed to be sheltering from the light. You ran to her with open arms and tears of joy streaming down your cheeks.

“Yorozu!” You exclaimed before hugging her tightly. She was so perplexed that she was slow to return the embrace.

“You're alive!” She exclaimed once she understood the situation.

A year ago you had disappeared from their lives. One morning, Yorozu, Nanako and Mimiko woke up, and you were not in bed with them. The only thing you had taken with you was your brown dress and a basket of food. You left no letter, note, or indication that you would return. Their mother told them that you ran away and left them to seek a better life without them. Your sisters did not believe her at all. She knew your heart and your strong morals, you would do anything to keep them safe. Even though they knew you would never leave them willingly, they knew you would not come back, so they thought the worst.

“Come, we need to talk,” you asked her before pulling her by the arm.

You took her out to the hallway and closed the door behind you as fast as possible so as not to disturb the king. Yorozu looked at you from head to toe. One of his theories as to your disappearance was that his mother sold you to King Sukuna as a servant, but you didn't look like one. Your body was carefully decorated with the finest fabrics and gems. Never in his life did he think he would ever see you looking as radiant as you do now. She was even envious to admit that you looked better than her, since now she was the one wearing the ugly and dirty dress.

“Nice dress,” she said as she looked at the flowers decorating the corset of the dress.

“That's not important now. What are you doing here?” You asked her before taking her by the shoulders to look her in the eyes.

“The same thing that happened to you. Mom sold me,” Yorozu complained, annoyed, remembering how her mother had dragged her out of bed with the excuse that they were going to the market.

“But why? You were the one with the best chance of marrying a rich man. You were the favorite. Mom wouldn't sell you just for the sake of it,” you demanded an answer. You were silent when you realized what you had said. Your mother would not sell her for any reason. “What did you do?”

“The winter ball in the Gojo kingdom was last week. Mom got really mad at me because I wouldn't dance with King Satoru. That's what happened,” Yorozu explained without making a big deal out of it.

“Are you serious?!” You looked at her, surprised. Your little sister nodded, equally disappointed. “Are you mad?! Isn't King Satoru supposed to be the most beautiful and richest man in the world!?” You scolded her while shaking her by the shoulders.

“I don't want to be with a prettier man than me,” Yorozu shrugged. You dropped your head as you couldn't believe what she was saying. “This is the Yorozu I know,” you thought.

Even though Yorozu had high charisma being a ridiculously beautiful girl, she still hadn't married. That was because she had ridiculously high standards. Ever since she was a child, she would reject all the boys who hit on her because she wouldn't settle for less than what she asked for. Yorozu's ideal future husband must be tall, handsome, rich, robust, strong, funny, attentive, a good hunter, a good leader, who would give her everything she asked for, who was obsessed with her and had a great dick to please her with. She could have great charisma, but she was just as greedy as her mother.

“How are Mom, Mimiko and Nanako doing? Tell me they are fine,” you asked her.

“They are there, that's what matters,” your little sister answered indifferently.

“Yorozu!” You scolded her.

“What?!” Yorozu exclaimed in annoyance. “They're fine, but not for long. Nanako and Mimiko are still too young to get married. I don't know how mom will support them once they run out of money,” she explained as she crossed her arm.

She was right and it was terrible. Your younger sisters were barely ten years old, but your mother would do anything to fulfill her ill-fated dream. Maybe instead of selling them to Sukuna, she would arrange a marriage for them to a nefarious but filthy rich man. You had to find a way to help your little sisters, but your options were limited since you couldn't leave the castle. Something would come to you soon, first you had to make sure of Yorozu's safety.

“Nice dress,” Yorozu flattered again.

“That doesn't matter,” You said again while thinking.

“Of course it matters! How can you, a filthy maid, wear a dress like that?!” Yorozu yelled in your face.

At the annoying noise, the doors opened wide, revealing a terrible six-foot curse that was quite annoyed. You gasped in shock and stood next to Yorozu. You bowed and forced your little sister to do the same, pulling her head to the same height as you. Yorozu was annoyed, but did not resist.

“What’s all this about?!” Sukuna yelled mad as he saw how you forced your sister to bow.

“I’m so sorry, my king. She is just shocked,” you tried to excuse her.

“Take her with the rest of the servants and cut the noise. Don't make me regret pitying her life.” Sukuna scoffed.

You nodded submissively and pulled Yorozu with you to follow the hallway. Yorozu looked back to get a better look at the much rumored King Sukuna. Just a simple glance made a flirtatious smile appear on her face. A monster of almost human appearance, tall, strong, robust build and, most importantly, stupidly rich for being the king of a great nation. He was terrifying and she loved it. It was just what she was looking for. Yorozu greeted him in a friendly manner as they walked away. Sukuna raised his eyebrow in confusion at the strange attitude of his future sister-in-law.

“What’s going on?” Yorozu asked you as you pulled her to where the other servants were.

The same room where you waited to be given your uniform. The atmosphere was worse than you remembered. A tired and worn-out energy was felt in the air. The long faces, the terrified murmurs, and the intrusive thoughts were frightening. If the room was already dark, it was now blackened. Yorozu looked at the old men in disappointment before answering him.

“I have a lot to tell you, but that will have to wait,” you pulled her by the shoulders to get her attention. “The summary is that I used to be a servant until Sukuna asked me to be his wife so that I can give him an heir. I begged for your life so that he wouldn't kill like the others,” you explained quickly.

“Are you going to become a queen?” Yorozu looked at you, surprised.

“If I do everything he asks me, yes,” you answered. “That's why you must keep a low profile and do everything the leader of the servants asks you to do. Don't make me look bad, I beg you”

“What?! Why do I have to be a servant?!” Yorozu exclaimed, annoyed.

“Lower your voice” You asked her while you looked at the other old men, clearly offended by the reaction.

“Can’t I be a princess or something?!” You grumbled unwillingly.

“Just wait until I marry the king, and I’ll take care of it. For now, you just have to cooperate,” you asked patiently.

“Ugh, but I was never as good at cleaning as you, and you know it,” Yorozu complained again.

“Well, you’ll have to if you want to survive here,” you threatened her to get her to listen to you. Quickly, you noticed Uraume approaching you. “Just do everything she asks of you without complaining, please,” you whispered to Yorozu. Your little sister rolled her eyes, but finally agreed before entering the room with the other new servants.

“Promise me that I won’t be a maid forever,” Yorozu asked you, stopping at the entrance.

“I’ll do my best,” you promised her.

Yorozu looked at you over one last time and reluctantly entered the room. “It’ll be fine. Just focus on killing someone for now, and then I’ll take care of giving Yorozu a good life.” You planned your next move before leaving her alone with the old folks to head back to the library to ask Kenjaku for a favor.

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gravebirds0dmnk · 29 days ago

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Why is the

"Muslim Damian Wayne" Head canon is problematic and disrespectful?? (Coming from a Muslim myself)

1. Conflation of Ethnicity with Religion

People often assume that being Arab or Middle Eastern means being Muslim. But:

Not all Arabs or Middle Eastern people are Muslim.

Talia and Ra’s al Ghul, while often depicted with Arabic-sounding names and cultural cues, are not portrayed as Muslim in canon.

Assuming Damian must be Muslim because of his heritage can erase the diversity within the region (e.g., Christians, Jews, Druze, atheists, etc.).

This oversimplifies and flattens complex identities. It's kind of like assuming every character with Latin roots is Catholic, it’s a stereotype, not representation.

---

2. Association with Violence and Terrorism Tropes

This is a big one. Damian was trained by the League of Assassins, an organization often portrayed with exoticized, Eastern, and terrorist-coded imagery (especially in Western media). So making him Muslim, even in a well-meaning headcanon, can unintentionally:

Reinforce harmful tropes of "violent Muslim youth."

Tie Islam to terrorism/violence through association, even subconsciously.

Even if the intent is good, the cultural baggage around Islam and terrorism in media is so heavy that it needs to be handled with care.

3. Ignoring Islamic Values

Damian is canonically a killer as a child (he’s later reformed, but still). Islam, like many religions, values human life very highly, and killing is seen as a grave sin. While people of all religions have done harmful things, portraying a Muslim child assassin without acknowledging how that conflicts with his faith can feel inauthentic,or worse, like a misrepresentation of Islam.

If someone wants to make him Muslim in their fanon, there needs to be:

Nuanced exploration of how he reconciles his faith with his upbringing.

Understanding of how faith might impact his redemption arc.

4. Taking Space from Actual Muslim Characters

There are Muslim DC characters, like:

Simon Baz (Green Lantern)

Khalid Nassour (Doctor Fate)

Nightrunner (Bilal Asselah, a French-Algerian Batman of Paris)

(They're Muslim i think?? I barely did a research on that)

When fan spaces focus on making existing, non-Muslim characters Muslim, it can:

Unintentionally sideline characters who are Muslim in canon.

Suggest that those characters aren’t “popular” or “cool” enough to represent the faith.

Damian Wayne and Islam rules;

1. Taking a Life Unjustly

> Islamic rule: "If anyone kills a person, unless in retribution for murder or spreading corruption in the land—it is as if he had slain all mankind." (Qur'an 5:32)

Damian’s issue: He’s literally trained from birth to kill. And he has killed. A lot. As a child. Before even turning 10.

While he later tries to reform under Bruce's guidance, his past still clashes hard with Islam’s strict ban on murder.

---

2. Arrogance / Pride

> Islamic rule: Arrogance (kibr) is considered a major sin. The Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ) said, “No one who has an atom's weight of arrogance in his heart will enter Paradise.” (Sahih Muslim)

(Gosh I genuinely hope I spelled it right, English is different than how I say it my language)

Damian’s issue: ho, let’s be real. Damian’s whole brand is:

> “I’m the best. I’m better than you. Chop chop. Bow down.”

He constantly throws his pedigree in people’s faces (Wayne blood, League training, etc.). That’s pure pride. In Islam, humility is key.

---

3. Disrespect to Parents / Elders

> Islamic rule: Being kind and respectful to your parents especially your mother is one of the most emphasized commandments in Islam. (Qur'an 17:23)

Damian’s issue: He’s constantly beefing with Bruce and (sometimes Talia) straight-up defiant. Yes, Bruce isn’t the most emotionally open dad, but Islam emphasizes respect, even when you disagree.

He also has moments where he talks down to other elders in the Bat-Family, which wouldn’t fly in Islamic adab (etiquette).

---

4. Attitude Toward Animals

> Islamic rule: Kindness to animals is mandatory, and cruelty is sinful.

Damian’s saving grace: He does have a soft side for animals — especially Bat-Cow, Titus, and Alfred the Cat.

In this case, he aligns with Islamic values more than most people expect.

---

5. Ethical Use of Wealth and Power

> Islamic rule: Power and money should be used justly, not for corruption or domination.

Damian’s issue: He’s the heir to the League of Assassins, an organization that uses power, violence, and wealth to control and manipulate.

Even if Damian tries to break away from that, it's his origin. And in Islam, using power unethically is considered a form of fitna (corruption).

---

6. Anger and Revenge

> Islamic rule: "Those who restrain anger and pardon people Allah loves those who do good." (Qur'an 3:134)

Damian’s issue: He’s hella impulsive, hot-headed, and obsessed with vengeance , especially early on.

Restraint is a major part of Islamic akhlaq (character), and Damian often chooses violence before reflection or forgiveness.

---

7. Lack of Spiritual Practice

> Islamic rule: A practicing Muslim is expected to:

Pray 5 times a day (salat)

Fast in Ramadan

Give charity (zakat)

Say the shahada (declaration of faith) (I better be spelling these right I'm scared)

Live by the core beliefs of Islam

Damian’s issue: He’s never once shown:

Praying

Observing halal/haram

Speaking of Allah or Islamic belief

Not saying he has to be visibly religious all the time, but there's ZERO sign he follows or even knows Islamic practices.

SO YEAH!!

#damianwayne #damian al ghul #batman #dc #damian wayne #islam #muslim #arab #easter #rant #rant post #muslimdamianwayne

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velvetm00light · 2 years ago

Text

Damsel

gif: pinterest banner: @benkeibear, @mariariley, @haerinism

Chapter One of Save Me

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: You've managed to keep your feelings for your coworker, the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid, completely in the back of your mind. But, when an unsub attacks close to home, you quickly realize you're on your way to becoming a victim. As you fight the panic coursing inside you, you are also left fighting the emotions that arise when Spencer tries to comfort and protect you.

Warnings: Mentions sexual assault, murder, serial killer, domxsub, degradation, torture, stalking. In future parts, will mention vivid torture, PinV, oral, domxsub situations, grief, bondage, physical harm, kidnapping, etc.

A/N: My first attempt at Tumblr and writing on here! This one is going to be a bit of a dark one so read at your own risk. I'm mostly writing for fun but this one will have at least a few parts to it. :)

Your knees begin to ache as you continue to kneel on the hardwood floor in your bedroom. Strong, nimble hands grip your head, lacing fingers into your hair and yank it backwards. A silk blindfold covers your eyes, heightening the rest of your senes. You feel his hot breath mere inches away from your mouth as he speaks to you in a growl.

"Look at you, on your knees, begging for me like a slut." You let out a small whimper at this, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get any kind of friction between your legs. All you need is to release this pent up heat at your core, but he is hell bent on taking his sweet time with you.

"Beg." You flinch at the demand in his voice but you do as you're commanded. "Please, Sir...I need it so bad," you cry out. Your wrists struggle in the cold handcuffs that keep your hands bound together behind your back. You just want to touch him so badly, want him to touch you so badly.

He hums and loosens his grip on your hair. You're roughly lifted up from your arm and thrown on the bed. "On your back."

You quickly do as your told, unable to waste another moment wanting instead of getting. "Are you ready to take me like the good girl you are?" You groan your approval, bucking your hips greedily. towards him.

His hands gently reach behind your head to let the blindfold loose. You blink rapidly, your eyes straining to adjust to the bedroom light. You can feel his cock rubbing against your folds slowly.

Once your eyes adjust, you spot unruly, brown curls and a smirking face hovering over you. "Spencer, please.." you beg right before he-

Your phone is ringing ceaselessly on your nightstand as it breaks you out of your sleep. You sit up rapidly, dazed and confused after the intensity of your dream...your dream about your coworker. You rub your eyes with the palms of your hands and let out a sigh. You'll dive into the analysis of your dream eventually, just not right now or maybe you'll just try to forget about it and never think of it again.

You grab your phone and answer it without bothering to check who was calling in the first place. Ever since you began working for the BAU 2 years ago, the only friends you had, had the same demanding job as you. No matter what day or time your phone rang, 9 times out of 10, it was going to be work.

"Hello?" you answer sleepily.

"You sound worse than I did when Hotch called me," Penelope giggles on the other end. "I didn't bother trying to text you first because I knew I wouldn't get a response for approximately 3 business days and then I'd have to probably send a whole wellness check to your house to make sure-"

"I'm assuming we have a case?" You can't help but chuckle at Penelope's ramble.

"Yes, but prepare yourself for this one." Penelope's tone wakes you up more than your coffee normally does. Despite being at the BAU longer than you have, after just about every case you've brought Penelope a bottle of wine, some kind of home-baked sweet and sat on her couch the rest of the day or night in slippers and face masks.

At first, just about everything made you jumpy and queasy but now, there's not much you haven't seen. You've done a decent job at separating your personal and professional emotions - for the most part.

"Thanks for the heads-up, Pen. I'm sure I'll be okay." I reassure her, questioning what kind of case we could possibly have that would rattle me more than abducted children, kidnapped and beaten women, and just about every other sadistic thing you can think of.

You say your goodbyes to Penelope and prepare to head to the office.

You take your seat around the round table, JJ to your left and Morgan to your right, the 3 of you the only ones there so far. You lean towards JJ and lower your voice into a whisper.

"Have you heard anything about this case yet?" You ask.

"I'm pretty sure it's just some murders here in Quantico." She replies, her brows knitting together. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm not sure, I just...Pen called me this morning and told me to prepare. Did she say the same to you?"

"No, she didn't." You take your bottom lip between your teeth and sit back in your seat. Your mind began chasing itself in circles, making up different scenarios on why you would have to be the one to prepare.

Spencer is the next to come, taking a seat across from you. He gives you a friendly smile and he immediately jumps into conversation, asking you guys what you did this weekend and if you were interrupted when you got called. The memory of the dream you were interrupted from plays back in your mind and you feel the heat rising up your neck.

You play it safe and try to kill your heat with humor, per usual. "I was actually in the middle of a very great date with sleep," you groaned.

Morgan laughs next to you in that charming way of his that drives just about every human, no matter what's between their legs, crazy. "Me and Savannah finally got time together because she had a day off from the hospital. We had some dinner, a little wine, we got into bed and boom, phone rang."

We all laugh at Morgan's bad luck and JJ tells a similar story about her and Will, "We had just gotten the kids down too."

Suddenly, Hotch and Rossi enter the room, Garcia trailing behind with her computer in hand. "Sorry to keep you waiting everyone, you can begin, Garcia."

She gives a curt nod and wastes no time jumping into her spiel, providing pictures as always.

"Unfortunately, in our little home of Quantico, 4 bodies of young women have been found bound, brutally tortured, with evidence of..sexual assault." As she continues to add more pictures to the screen, you begin to realize something. You weren't the only one to realize it though when Emily blurts, "Well he's got a type, that's for sure."

"Yup, all women have the same hair color, eye color, even height." Garcia continues.

"You know, these women look kind of familiar..." Rossi begins, and as he begins to put the pieces together as you do, wide eyes begin to fall onto you.

"How tall are you, (y/n)?" Spencer asks matter-of-factly, as if he refuses to believe it's not just some extremely odd coincidence.

"5 foot 4." You reply, wringing your hands in your lap. The gazes of all your team members burn holes into you and you fight against the urge to sink into your chair.

"And each of these women were 5 foot 4?" Morgan asks, setting his gaze on the case file instead of you. "Yes, they were." Garcia confirms.

A nervous chuckle escapes your throat, "I mean, that's a coincidence, right?" No one immediately answers you which does nothing to help you feel any better.

"Until we know for sure, we need to be careful." Hotchner stated bluntly. "We know that with these kinds of unsubs their primary target is normally their worst, and their last."

You know he is right, but it seems almost ridiculous. You barely leave the house except to go to work, go to Penelope's, or get groceries. Why in the world would you be a serial killer's target?

"JJ, Morgan, I want you to talk to the families of these woman and see what you can find out. Their lifestyles, last contacts, places they were seen a few days leading up to their disappearances." JJ and Morgan nod, rising to action and disappearing out of the room.

"Prentiss and Rossi, check out the dump sites." Once Emily and Rossi leave the room to complete their duties, the room feels even more suffocating even though there's less people in it.

There is absolutely no way you can focus on finding a serial killer that has a preference for women just like you while working with Spencer, but it leaves Spencer and Hotch left as possible partners for this case.

"(Y/n), until we get more information, I want to be safe rather than sorry. This team has suffered enough so for now you will work with Spencer on the geographical profile."

With that, he stands and leaves me and Spencer in the room, alone.

It's almost too hard to bear so you immediately begin. "I'm going to print out a map so we can see his hunting and dumping zones," you explain quickly, leaving the room like a fire was just lit up your ass.

You enter an internal conflict of not wanting to waste time and therefore, endangering another women's life, but you also aren't sure if you're going to be able to handle being alone in close proximity with the coworker you had a literal wet dream about just a few hours ago.

You decide that a woman's life is more important than your own feelings and quickly make work printing and bringing back a map.

Once it's taped to the board, you and Spencer immediately get to work putting pointer tabs on the map, red for dumpsites, blue for abduction sites.

You both step back to allow yourselves the bigger picture. You can feel the heat radiate off of Spencer and you dare a quick glance towards him. His button-down sleeves are rolled up the elbows, his arms crossed against his chest, his finger running across his jaw. You can almost see the beautifully brilliant cogs in his head at work as you stare.

You're broken out of your trance when he suddenly moves closer to the map and draws a circle. "Most of the dump sites are within a mile radius of each other just outside of FBI territory, but the abduction sites are more scattered." His fingers lightly trace the map, pointing to each abduction site.

"Grocery store parking lot, park, apartment building.."

Your eyes widen as realization begins to sink in, this one being even more damning than just looking like the victims.

"Spence.." you breathe out. You move closer to get a better look at the map, ensuring you're not just creating something out of nothing.

"I've been to all these places before.." You say this so low, for a moment think he didn't even hear you.

"Actually, all of those sites are some of the most common places people go on a day-to-day basis. For example, 8.642 million people live in the state of Virginia and if you take the area of Quantico and surrounding areas -"

"Spencer, what days did these women get abducted?" You ask, your lip begins to quiver slightly as you push the panic down that is threatening to rise up inside you. You're hoping that this is all just some sick coincidence and you're not right about the theory you're about to put to the test.

"The first victim, Abby Reynolds, got abducted from the Walmart parking lot off 610 on the second. Laney Parker from Smith Lake Park on the fifth. Delaney Litz from Aquia Fifteen Apartments -" Your entire body freezes in absolute terror and Spence pauses. "What is it?"

"Spencer, I went to all of the places on those days and that apartment building...I live there."

His eyes widen as he stars at you in shock. "You're sure you went to those places at the same time?"

"Yes..I- I went to Walmart right after we got done our case on the second to get wine for me and Penelope, then on the fifth I took my nephew to Smith Lake Park because we had the day off and I felt guilty for being a terrible sister and never talking to my sister..." Tears threaten to spill across your cheeks but you internally chastise yourself to get a grip. This could all still just simply be a coincidence. A sick fucking coincidence.

Spencer immediately grabs his phone out of his pocket and calls Hotch. Spencer puts Hotch on speaker phone as the rest of the team is conferenced in.

"JJ, what did you guys learn from the families?"

"All 4 women were extremely work orientated, barely even found the time to buy themselves groceries and lived low-risk lifestyles."

You practically throw yourself into a chair at the round table, unable to control the trembling of your hands and the threat of your knees buckling beneath you. Spencer sets his phone down on the table and takes the chair in front of you. As the team speaks to one another, Spencer gently reaches for your hands and squeezes them, running his thumbs over the back of your hands in an attempt to comfort you.

He lets go of one hand and reaches over the table to mute the phone. "Do you want me to tell them, or do you want to do it?"

You honestly aren't even sure your brain is working correctly at this point. All you know is that you are in the safest place you can be, and you know your team wouldn't let anything happen to you. Spencer wouldn't let anything happen to you.

"You, please." You whisper. He nods and unmutes the phone.

"Guys, we found out something interesting while working on the geographical profile." He begins.

"Go on," Hotch urges.

"Well, first, all the dumping sites are within a 1 mile radius of each other right outside the FBI territory. I think he wants the bodies displayed and found, particularly by us." He slides his chair close to yours and stills your shaky hands with his. "Also, each woman was abducted from places (y/n) went to on those same days."

The line goes silent and it's almost enough to push you over the edge. Not only do you have to manage your own panic and fear, you have a whole team you brought this upon who now has to worry for a friends life and you can't help but feel guilty for it. "Prentiss, head back to the office. (Y/n), are you up for a cognitive?"

You gaze up at Spencer who gives you a comforting nod. "Y-yes. I can do that."

"I'll be there in 5," Prentiss calls out and the phone conference ends.

"Will you please stay with me? During the interview?" You manage to choke out. You try to fight the onslaught of emotions this situation suddenly thrust upon you.

"Of course. You're safe with me, with us. You know none of us would ever let anything happen to you. You're not alone." Spencer pulls you into a tight hug and you allow yourself to relax into him. It does nothing to ease the coursing emotions and terror you have within yourself. Seeming to sense that, he pulls away but keeps his hands on your shoulders. "You're safe," he coos, offering a small, comforting smile.

You attempt to return a smile of your own, but you can't help the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach that there is a bottom to this whole iceberg that you guys haven't seen yet.

You take a seat on an uncomfortable metal chair in one of the interviewing rooms. "Do we really have to do this in here?" You sigh. Spencer stayed true to his word and pulled up a chair next to you. He placed a hand over yours, despite Emily being just across the table.

You almost allowed yourself to relax at the contact, but it only made your life a bit more difficult. Not only were you possibly being stalked and hunted by a brutal serial killer, but you also had a school girl crush on the one coworker who would likely never feel the same, and you would probably not confess to, even with your life in danger.

Emily laces her fingers together and winces. "I'm sorry, but yeah. You're considered a possible target now. You're involved on the opposite end of this case." Her honesty sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure you could handle someone sugar coating the danger you were in or the seriousness of this case, but the blunt honesty didn't make it any better easier.

"I'm just going to ask you simple questions. You're safe here, always remember that, (y/n)." I nod and close my eyes. I take Spencer's hand and squeeze it lightly. He squeezes back, his confirmation that he's there.

"You just got off the jet from a long case in Florida. What does it feel like outside?"

"Hot. Like I wanted to rip my clothes off." You can feel Spencer next to you tense at your comment and you squeezed his hand in flirt-reply but you were sure he would most likely not understand it.

"What did you do next?"

"I...I talked to Penelope. I called her when we landed while I walked to my car and I offered to come over to watch Illegally Blonde and bring wine."

"Focus on the carpark. Was there anyone just standing around? Any abnormal cars you didn't recognize?"

You tried to imagine the carpark at the tarmac. There were multiple floors, all used by different departments of the FBI. You were only really sure of the kinds of cars your close coworkers drove but there were probably hundreds of cars around as you walked through. "There's a lot of cars I don't know. I parked further away because I was running late and all the spots were full."

"Keep walking towards your car. Is there anyone just standing around?"

As I walk to towards my car, I swivel my head around, going over each small detail of my surroundings.

"There's a man in a suit with a briefcase but he's on the phone, talking to someone. I don't think he even knew I was there."

"Once you get in your car, is there anything abnormal? Does your car start the same way it always does? What do you smell?"

You rack your brain for the memory. You allow yourself to picture sitting in the car. "I think it smelt normal. Like my air freshener which I always change when it runs out."

Your air freshener hung from your rearview mirror, your steering wheel was in the same position you left it, and when you turned the car on, your car purred like normal. "Wait," you whisper.

"What is it?"

You feel Spencer's hand squeeze yours. "Normally, my phone automatically connects when I start it. I always play my music through my bluetooth and no one else's phone is paired so there should've been no reason for it to not connect."

"What did you do when you noticed your phone didn't connect?"

"I umm..I went into my settings to try to connect but then I saw my settings were basically clear edout. Like it was reset to factory settings."

"What did you do then?"

You take your bottom lip into your mouth and begin to chew as you allow the memory to play on. Spencer's hand brings you to Earth slightly and you let out a deep breathe and continue.

"I'm pretty sure I just paired it again...I thought it was weird, definitely, but I don't think I really thought much of it. No one was in my car or under, I always check. There wasn't any kind of van or large vehicle parked next to me. There wasn't anything else that made me feel in danger so I guess I just played it off like my car malfunctioned or something."

"Okay, are you alright to keep going?"

As the memory continues to play in your mind you begin to feeling the rising panic again. You're normally extremely vigilant, sometimes too much. Every sound and detail is always analyzed, you always make sure there's no danger around. You can't help but feel idiotic for missing it. Of course, you would never completely factory reset your car and you haven't taken it to get serviced in months.

As your breathing quickens, you fling your eyes open and blink back the tears forming. "I-I'm not sure. I feel...stupid. I should have noticed."

"You noticed everything else, though. You're not stupid. You checked for every other danger you could possibly think of, don't berate yourself for not thinking you were in danger because of something as simple as your phone not connecting. Almost no one would read into it any further than a vehicle malfunction." Spencer's hands were on your shoulders as he speaks to you, forcing you to stare at him.

"I'm a profiler, it's my job to read into things no one else does."

"You're human, (y/n). An intelligent human at that. Don't call yourself stupid." Spencer's tone almost makes you flinch, it sounds almost just like the dream you had...you shake your head to get the thought out and avoid his flamed gaze.

"I'm proud of you for getting this far," Spencer spoke softer this time, dropping his hands from your shoulders and taking your hand again. "You're brave."

"I'm brave," I repeat, taking a deep breath. "Let's continue."

After a grueling, multiple hour long cognitive interview, you're mentally drained. Remembering every detail about every day for the past few weeks has taken a toll on you. As you exit the interview room, Prentiss pats your shoulder and gives you a comforting smile. She then heads off to discuss your interview with the team probably, but Spencer doesn't budge from your side.

You pause in the hallway and Spencer looks down at you, concern lacing his features. "You did great in there," he started. "You really helped us, a lot."

"I really hope so. I'm too scared to go home, I don't even want to leave the BAU just in case he hacked my car..." Tears well up in your eyes once again but this time, you decide to let them slip. You're too exhausted and confused and scared to care about what Spencer might think of you crying in front of him.

He gently brings a hand up to your cheek and wipes a fallen tear from it. His hand lingers on your face and he suddenly brings it down to his side as if realizing that he was prolonging his contact.

"Thank you for staying in there with me." You look at him with teary eyes and try to plaster on a smile.

He only frowns back at you. "Of course, I didn't want you to go through it alone. You know you don't need to put on a fake smile for me. I can see through it anyway."

You blink at his words and take a relieving breath. It was nice to not be expected to be okay right now. "Now that I'm considered a target, am I not allowed to know what you guys know?" It was almost too much to bear, the thought of being kept in the dark when you were the one in danger.

"As much as Hotch might say you should stay out of it, I don't think it's fair. Knowing the information we do could possibly save your life."

The tight knot in your stomach uncoils slightly. It helps to know that even if things are kept from you, there is someone who would fight for you and probably tell you anyway.

"There you guys are, Hotch needs us in the conference room." JJ states, popping her head around the corner and disappearing just as quickly as she came.

Spencer places a gentle hand on the small of my back and leads me to the round table. You're grateful for this because you don't think you'd be able to keep yourself up and moving on your own.

As soon as you sit down, Hotch doesn't give you a moment to catch your breath before he begins. "Based on everything so far, our profile suggests that you're his endgame, (y/n)."

Your eyes widen but you're unable to even open your mouth to ask why.

Garcia speaks next and you whip your gaze to her as she fidgets with the fluffy pen in her hand. "I did some internet sleuthing, as I do, and I found something...extremely creepy." She pushes a button on the remote next to her and a website appears on the screen. The tension in the room becomes taut like a wire as an entire blog about you comes up on the screen. "It's anonymous, of course. But not for long, I will not let him get away with this." Garcia states angrily, as the different blog entries are scrolled through.

"She will belong to me even if it's the last thing I do."

"Such a selfish whore, parading around for me, basically asking for my attention and then pretending like I don't exist."

"I think she gets it, guys." Spencer snarls.

"(Y/n), do you have any idea who this guy is?" Morgan asks.

"I-I don't know. I rarely even go anywhere! I don't understand why I'm the target. What is so special about me?" You cry out, exasperated.

"There must have been an interaction, even a super brief, normal one you had with him." JJ points out.

"I don't remember anyone out of the blue coming up to me..."

"He most likely wouldn't have. You might have had to talk to him for any kind of reason, a cashier, a waiter, even someone who held the door open for you." Prentiss sighs.

"I don't think he would have worked at any of the places the women were abducted from. He's obviously got a large house, land, or somewhere to hold these women. He tends to hold them for around 2 days before dumping them and if he's stalking (y/n) in his free time, he's probably got a flexible job or no job at all." Morgan explains.

"Garcia, get a list of everyone that lives with their parents or took over their parents residence after they passed, especially those with farms, or land." Hotch orders.

"Also check for men who's parents might have owned buildings he can keep women in that are now abandoned like factories, mills, schools." Rossi chimes in.

Garcia nods and races out of the room and to her office.

"We've got to find a way to get this guy to come out of his hiding spot.." JJ hums.

"(Y/n)?" Hotch asks, his gaze noticeably softer. You're almost too afraid to answer, internally begging to just stay here, away from danger. "Yes?" You answer quietly.

"I wouldn't ask this if I thought we had other leads or ways to narrow down suspects...but we might need you to draw him out."

"Absolutely not!" Spencer jumps from his seat. The entire table falls silent at his outburst.

"It might be the only way of making sure other women don't get hurt, Spencer." Hotch reasoned.

"I don't care! You're putting her in danger!" Spencer roared, shoving his chair from behind him and pacing around the room. "You can't Hotch."

"It's okay," you croak out. If it means saving another woman's life, you're willing to make the sacrifice. You don't allow yourself to think about Spencer's outburst and why he could've possibly been so upset. You're just friends. He just cares about you because you're his friend, you tell yourself.

Spencer sits back down in his seat, his gaze unable to meet mine. "I can handle it," you lift your chin and straighten your back, faking a confidence you sure as hell don't have.

"Everyone meet back here in an hour and we'll discuss the details." With this, Hotch rises out of his seat and leaves the room. The others do the same, leaving you and Spencer by yourselves, still seated at the round table.

"I'm brave, remember?" You say, giving him a sad smile. He gives you an even sadder smile back. "Yes, you are." You can see him battling an internal battle with himself, his body almost shaking. "You'll be there to protect me, right?"

"Of course."

574 notes · View notes

softgreengrass · 1 year ago

Text

I’ll Survive

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: happy then sad then happy, requested, supersoldier!r but it’s not relevant to plot

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: death, grief

A/N: thanks for the request!

You and Natasha are in the gym when FRIDAY calls a meeting.

“Come on, is that all you got?” she grins, leaning into the punching bag with all her weight.

You fire a few more jabs, and her feet slip back a little. Sweat rolls down your forehead.

“Attention, all,” FRIDAY’s voice rings out. “Mission briefing in the conference room. 10 minutes.”

You don’t stop your barrage of punches, your eyes locked onto the Avengers logo in the center of the bag.

“You sure you’re ready to get back into it?” Natasha asks.

You’ve been coming off of an injury for a few months now. Bad intel, a trap, a bullet straight through your femur — being on bedrest was your seventh circle of hell.

Instead of answering, you wind your fist back and hit the bag hard enough to send it flying across the room, taking Natasha with it. She slams against the wall and laughs.

You wipe your face with a towel before walking over and kicking the bag away from her. “Sorry.”

“Super soldiers,” she mutters, shaking her head.

You offer her a hand. She takes it, rising to her feet, and leans into your chest. Butterflies shoot through your stomach.

“You sure you’re ready?” she asks softly.

“Yeah.”

Her eyes flick down to your lips, and you pull her into a slow kiss. Her hands find the back of your neck, lace through your hair. It only lasts a few seconds before she swipes her foot behind your leg and shoves your shoulders hard.

You land flat on your back with a groan.

“10 minutes, killer,” she smirks. “And don’t ever do that again.”

You’re the last one in the conference room, and there are no seats left around the table. Cap shoots you a disapproving glance as you close the door behind you.

“Hope no one made any weekend plans,” Cap clears his throat. “Because we’re heading to Russia.”

Tony groans obnoxiously. “Come on, really?”

The holographic screen suspended above the table turns on, showing the floor plans of the Kremlin. Everyone falls silent.

“This isn’t a villain of the week, guys,” Steve sighs. “Hell, it’s not even HYDRA.”

You whistle, and Rhodey glares at you.

“As far as we can tell, the Russian government is doing this entirely of their own accord. The only one pulling the strings is Putin.”

“What are they doing?” Clint asks, leaning back in his chair.

“They want to put nukes in space.” Steve presses his clicker and the screen shows the earth and a dozen orbits around it. “That’s a one-way ticket to world war three.”

“And you want us to, what, eat the nukes?” Tony asks.

Cap clenches his jaw. “The Department of Defense wants us to make sure they don’t launch. My plan makes sure Putin won’t ever get the chance to.”

“You want to assassinate him?” Natasha asks quickly.

Steve faces her. “I want you to.”

Your eyes meet Natasha’s through the projection, and you swallow.

“He’s gotta be the most well-protected guy on the planet,” Bruce says.

“That’s a suicide mission!” Clint cries.

“Which is why we’re all going,” Steve says, in that authoritative old man tone that shuts everyone up. “Banner’s right. It’s going to take all of us just to get a chance.”

“Pretty sure assassinating the Russian president is an act of war,” you say. “Number two in command is just gonna send those nukes up and point them straight at the Pentagon.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Then they turn towards Steve.

“Which is why I have a plan,” he says firmly.

You don’t like it one bit. Not one bit. Natasha, undercover for two weeks without comms. Clint posing as a diplomat. The rest of you hunkered underground, waiting for the right moment to invade the Kremlin. It’s almost recklessly risky. And yet, Steve has his full faith in it, which means the rest of you do too.

That night, Natasha holds onto you tightly. She’s terrified to go back there, regardless of what she says. It’s worse than going after one cell, or even the Red Room itself. It’s the man behind the curtain who’s been controlling it all.

“It’s going to go fine,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you further into her.

“It is,” you say. You take her hands and press them into your sternum. You’d only succeeded in being the big spoon a couple times — never when she was stressed. So you stare at the wall. “I mean it.”

“Me too,” her breath fans against the back of your neck. “We’ve done harder things before, haven’t we?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you exhale. “I mean, aliens? AI? Bruce when he’s hungry?”

She laughs, and that eases some of the pressure on your heart. “Worst case, I’ll survive.”

“You always do.”

“I always do,” she smiles. “And best case, I take care of him, you get rid of the cabinet, and Steve slides in his new leader. And we get out of there and go to… I don’t know. The Dominican Republic.”

“The Dominican Republic?”

“Why not?” she kisses your shoulder. “A vacation. Moscow’ll be a pretty intense way to get back into the action. You’ll deserve a break.”

“I’ve been on a break for three months,” you snort.

“Oh come on, you don’t want a piña colada? Palm trees? White sand beaches?”

“Well when you put it like that,” you say, turning around to face her. “I guess we could go to the Dominican Republic.”

She smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Promise?”

You could stare into the green of her eyes forever. “Promise.”

Not three weeks later, you sit staring at a computer screen in a bunker a hundred feet below Red Square. Tony sits to your left. There’s no point in watching the feed, since all of the cameras are outside of the Kremlin and Natasha walked in an hour ago, but you can’t help it. You feel powerless.

For ten days, Natasha has been Alina Konstantinovna Petrova, a middle-aged politician who just got back from a stint in Belarus. When she emerged wearing the nanotech mask for the first time, you genuinely didn’t recognize her. Her voice, her gait, her mannerisms — all changed. Sometimes you forget she’s the world’s greatest spy.

But with no comms and no tracker, all you have is your faith in that fact. Just your trust in her.

If she’s on schedule, she should be having tea with the Prime Minister, but really she could be anywhere, doing anything. There’s absolutely no way for you to know.

“You know,” Wanda sighs, tipping back in her office chair and tossing a tennis ball into the air. “I don’t think all of us had to be here.”

“Agreed,” Tony grumbles. “I was supposed to be at a gala right now.”

“Do you think-”

“Quiet!” Steve orders, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “Do you see that? Is that smoke?”

You lean closer. It is smoke, pouring out of a second-floor window, and it makes your stomach drop.

Steve taps into the emergency comms in Clint’s ear. “Is there a fire? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Clint’s voice replies, hushed. “I don’t know, they put us into a ballroom. I don’t know where she is.”

“Shit,” Steve mutters.

“What do we do?” you ask, rising to your feet.

Steve grimaces. “If… if we make contact now, she won’t have a shot. It’ll all be for nothing.”

“The Kremlin isn’t usually on fire,” you snap.

“I’m sure she can handle it,” he glares back. His voice is dangerously quiet when he speaks again. “She knows what’s on the line here.”

But five minutes later, the smoke hasn’t stopped. It’s spread. Clint and the other diplomats are being evacuated.

You keep your eyes glued to the feed, scanning for Alina Petrova’s face among the crowd. She never emerges, but neither do the Prime Minister or cabinet. Maybe there’s a hidden exit.

Just when it seems like the fire is coming under control and the chaos is cooling, the cameras cut out.

You rush for the exit immediately, Tony and Steve right on your heels. Your entire body goes numb as you climb the ladder.

It’s probably fine, you think, hands squeezing the rungs too tight. The fire burned a power line, or the government stopped the footage to protect their image. She’s fine. She’s fine.

You heave the manhole cover out of place with your shoulder, hoisting yourself onto the street and ignoring the pedestrians who stare at you.

It’s absolute pandemonium. There’s a crater where half of the Kremlin used to be, and the other half is engulfed in flames. You sprint towards it.

Steve immediately shouts after you, but all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears.

Maybe there’s a hidden exit. She had to have noticed the fire, she would’ve escaped, she would’ve made it out. She would’ve.

The police that are always stationed around the Kremlin make a border around it, though no one except you is trying to go towards the burning building.

“Ostanavis’!” they yell, but you hurdle their makeshift barricade.

If she was on schedule, she would’ve been on the east side, top floor. The heat doesn’t even register in your mind.

You root through rubble as fast as you can, barely noticing when Wanda and Steve join you in your search. Smoke stings your eyes and fills your lungs until you can barely choke out a breath.

There are heaps of ash that might’ve once been people, might’ve once been Natasha.

You climb trembling supports to get to the second floor: there are bones there, even fragments of medals and jewelry. The farther you get from the crater the less charred the bodies become. But you can only get so close to the live blaze, and none of the bodies are hers. The skin on your hands begins to blister from red-hot ash and metal.

At some point Steve pulls you away, ignores the way you claw at him and scream that you won’t leave her. The three of you (Tony, Bruce, and Rhodey had been wise enough to run away from flaming wreckage) end up in a Russian prison, charged as enemies of the state responsible for the fire and ensuing blast.

By the time the Department of Defense negotiates you out, you’ve convinced yourself that Natasha must’ve escaped. There’s no other option. She couldn’t die. If you didn’t find her, she couldn’t have been there. She must’ve gotten out.

But when you walk into SHIELD’s Moscow base, she isn’t there. It’s only Fury and Clint.

“Where is she?” you ask, rushing towards them. Everyone else seems to slip out of the room.

Fury’s eyes stay trained on you, swimming with something you don’t want to decipher. Your heart pounds against your chest

“Where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Clint says, his voice raw.

“No,” you respond immediately. “No, she isn’t.”

He closes his eyes.

No. You see a flash of her smile, of the jacket she loved. You feel the ghost of her touch on your face.

“I thought she faked it,” Fury says after a moment. “But… we made a deal a few years ago. If one of us faked it again we’d leave something behind so the other would know. A ring.”

You’ve never heard his voice so weak before. Somehow it’s scarier than anything else.

“But there was no ring,” he clears his throat. “Just this.”

He holds out his hand, opens it. The necklace you gave Natasha last year is bunched up on his palm, dark with soot. Your knees almost give out. She never takes it off, not to sleep or train or go undercover. She would never leave it behind.

Reality dawns on you like an awful black wave. Natasha is dead.

“I’m sorry,” Fury says, resting a hand on your shoulder. You can’t feel it. Every breath, every blink is manual now, every movement an act of will.

Worst case, I’ll survive.

You just want to hug her again. Just see her face one more time, knowing it’ll be the last. Suddenly a deep red rage fills your vision, and your muscles twitch to strangle whoever set the fire, whoever planted the bomb.

“There was no body?” you ask hoarsely. You can’t tear your eyes from the necklace.

Fury shakes his head. “Ash.”

A lump forms in your throat that won’t leave for weeks. You feel like you’re looking at everything through frosted glass, frozen in the moments that you just held. It’s like you’ve been caught in a spiderweb.

You don’t cry until you set foot inside her room at the compound. Everything is just how she left it, like she just stepped out. Like she’ll come back any second now.

The covers on her bed are rumpled.

You can’t wrap your kind around the fact that she could be gone, vanished into thin air, reduced to dust. That she’ll never touch anything again. You sit down on the floor and hug your knees.

For a few days you don’t eat; you don’t speak for longer. The gaping hole in your chest churns and twists in an agonizing way. Every night you dream of refusing Steve’s plan, or going up as soon as you saw the smoke, or doing anything except sitting idly while she burned alive.

You’re at Steve’s throat often enough that Tony kicks you both out of the compound. It’s not like either of you are of use, anyways. The others manage to channel their sorrow into work. You don’t.

Clint takes time off, too. Laura manages to convince you it’ll be good.

But with nothing to distract you, you feel the pain of every passing moment. Every minute that you get older and she doesn’t. You don’t want to have to think of a life without her in it.

Weeks or months into your dull gray blur of a life, someone knocks on your door. You hope it’s not Steve. You don’t know if it’s the season, but you could spring for a box of Thin Mints.

It’s not a girl scout. It’s Natasha.

Your eyes go wide; your face pales. Nanotech mask? Clone? “A-Are you real?”

She wheezes out your name, keeps her hands clutched to her side.

“Is it really you?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears and your hands trembling as you reach out to touch her.

“I missed you,” she breathes, her eyes roaming your face.

She has a black eye and a split lip. It’s her. You drink in the green of her eyes and the red of her hair and the softness of her face and you can’t keep the sobs from escaping. She crashes into your arms, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ribs. She smells like sweat and home.

Natasha is crying too, shaking, her face hidden in your chest. You close your eyes and tilt your head down to rest your lips on her head.

“You’re hurt,” you say when you remember how to speak.

She pulls away and kisses you deeply. It feels like God blessing you, even if it tastes like blood. She’s real. You don’t let go of her until she gently pushes you away.

“We should go inside,” she whispers.

You’re in a daze for half an hour, while you wrap her ribs and bandage the gash on her arm. She doesn’t leave your gaze for one second. When you’re finally satisfied that she won’t drop dead, you collapse onto the couch next to her.

She climbs on top of you, pulls you close.

“They were onto me,” she murmurs into your hair. “I had to escape, I couldn’t let them think I was alive.”

Anger roars in your chest. “I’m not losing you again.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to kill them,” you growl, wrapping your arms around her securely.

“I’ll help,” she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. “They’re probably coming here.”

“You were followed?”

“I wanted to see you,” she sighs. “I didn’t take all the precautions.”

You laugh and bury your face into the crook of her neck. “You think we can go to the Dominican Republic after?”

“I’ll break up with you if we don’t.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #angst #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu #natasha x reader #fluff

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starberry-cupcake · 8 months ago

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Here I am again, hoping this silly recap brightens your day a little bit, I'm giving you a gentle hug and a mug of your favorite warm beverage ☕

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

I somehow predicted @lady-harrowhark's tshirt in the one before that also, it was very funny, in case you missed it

CHAPTER 48

we're doing just one chapter again because this one was Eventful, fam

last we knew, abby pent was trying to lorraine warren the ghost out of harrowcita's bubble

my running theory was that the ghost was commander wake aka allegedly gideon's mom (none of that is in any way confirmed yet)

and ortus was about to say something

I said it might be poetry and, guess what?

I WAS RIGHT

you go, ortus, you recite that poetry

abby apparently takes that as a cue to do something and thinks ortus has too much faith in her

but ortus trusts her, there's a lot of polycule moments in this one

the sleeper/waker/slasher allegedly gideon's mom unconfirmed absolutely does not give a fuck about any of this, she's slaying them all with her "baggy orange suit and gun collection"

I need the suit to look like this so bad

harrow starts making constructs but killer bae starts turning them into ash in seconds

I mean, I know we need harrow to live and this woman is not supporting that idea but damn, she looks cool af

if you fought the emperor at any given point, amanda (I'm calling her amanda for now, I'll elaborate later) how did you lose?????

ortus is harmed, so harrow has to continue with the recitation in his place

so harrow continues to recite the nonius poetry, while abby chants in the background and everyone else waits while bleeding

it's a very involved artistic performance that we've got going on over here in canaan au river bubble

sleeper/waker/slasher/alleged commander wake alleged gideon's mom aka amanda (according to me) shoots harrowcita

but then abby is lifted in blue flames and seems to be holding an invisible book and everything gets all vib-ey

these are the exact vibes I'm picturing

(not because I have a print of that in my room)

so harrowcita is saved from getting shot in the head by a man with the Ninth uniform and a very stellar use of the blade

AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE WHO IT IS

IT'S ORTUS'S BLORBO FROM HIS SHOWS!!!!!!!!

matthias nonius is a short king who is surprised to be speaking in meter but is very happy to be here to defend the Reverend Daughter and fight like an expert killing machine

WHERE WAS ALL THIS FIGHTING POWER WHEN IT CAME TO KILLING THE EMPEROR

but not only is matthias nonius 10/10 at fighting (as advertised), the shrine ortus has in his head for him is helping to even the playing field with the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

she can't shoot anymore

"I killed wizard's filth like you all my life. I killed them with guns, and bombs, and knives, and gas, and when I didn't have any of those I just got in real close and put my thumbs through their fucking eyes. You can flick that little skewer around all you like, boy. I'll choke you with it"

SHE'S INTENSE, we can be certain that the Harrow Only Notes were hers

"I certainly hope you're a fighter. God knows you're not a debater"

you guys I'm a certified mati nonius fan right now

ortus is drawing little hearts in his poetry book and writing Ortus Nonius in it

"If all of her cavaliers were this excited for death, she was definitely the problem"

they just love you too much, harrowcita

so mati nonius and waker/sleeper/alleged commander have the most intense and entertaining fight ever

because lyctor fights are weak and boring

but this, this is cinema

harrow thinks that, if gideon had been there, she would have loved the fight but also she'd be terrible at running commentary of it

I disagree, gideon's running commentary is one of the things that keep us together as a society

"In life she must have had few, if any, equals. Her people—whoever they had been—must have cherished her as their finest champion."

gideon got some great fighting genes from all around, if my theories prove right

I mean, if her people are the people I'm thinking, they still have posters of her, so she must have been a big deal before she crashed in the ninth

SAD SHE DIDN'T KILL DR REVEREND EMPEROR JOHN THOUGH

BUT THERE'S STILL TIME FOR THAT

LIKE AN HOUR

harrow says mati nonius is "a poem" which is very nice of her to say

you go, short king

there's a lot of blood happening, also, which could be encouraging, since before this, the waker/sleeper/alleged commander wasn't bleeding at all

the room changes to become a ninth chamber and alleged commander changes clothes from the star trek orange suit to a different yet still orange getup and a golden mask

ortus's shrine in his head built for mati nonius is rewriting the possession

because nothing can pull you from the depths of despair as fast as your favorite blorbo

"My master in life was revenge, my mission is one of—Goddamn it, I'm not going to start talking like this"

more points for the gideon's mom theory

protozoa and ortus are now communicating telepathically, they are starting to put aside their rivalry and finding out they have a lot in common

enemies to friends to lovers speedrun

mati nonius loses his sword and goes feral

protozoa throws his cunty seventh rapier towards him, mati nonius catches it and ends the waker/sleeper/alleged commander

it all looked incredibly cool

once the enemy is partially defeated (let's remember she's supposedly tethered to an object that I think is gideon's sword), the body horror starts falling from the walls

it's described as "sausages flung from a height" which is...quite the thing

like, I get what that sounds like, but also, maybe I didn't wanna know

harrow looks at the face of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and says it's the woman from the poster of the shuttle

YASSSS GETTING CLOSER TO MY THEORY

like, I still don't know if the woman from the poster is commander wake or if she is indeed gideon's mom, but I'm going all in on this theory

now we have a little intermission in which everyone is waxing poetic about everyone else

this is the canaan house we always wanted to see

protozoa is giving heart eyes to mati nonius, mati is giving respects to harrow, ortus is saying he wants to write a poem about abby, magnus is telling ortus not to flirt with his wife as a joke but ortus looks mortified

and abby says ortus did most of the job but she also points out she corrected some of his spelling

which might have been the biggest mistake in magnus's and abby's lives because they just destroyed their polycule

you can't treat the ninth like that, fifth, they take it personally

but ortus is vindicated because his oshi, his favorite blorbo, his biggest hero, tells him nice things

harrowcita goes to check on the ghost corpse of the waker/sleeper/alleged commander and finds some tags

one of which says AWAKE

I THINK THAT'S MAYBE A. WAKE

AS IN COMMANDER WAKE

and I'm naming her amanda, as previously established

it would go well with the ancient tumblr meme

the prophecy

sure hope this isn't the famous alecto everyone keeps mentioning because it'd ruin my prophecy

abby tells harrow the only way to get rid of her for good is to destroy the object to which she's tethered to

which I suspect might be gideon's sword, so fuck all this

we're meant to lose gideon and her sword??? absolutely not

let the woman kill the emperor instead

ALSO

surprise! mati nonius is besties with gideon the first

now, for someone who was sold out to be super serious and not an extrovert, gideon the first knows EVERYONE

he knows mati nonius, he probably also knows, to some degree of intimacy yet undetermined, the commander, he might be somewhat related to our gideon

the man is everywhere

basically, mati nonius and gideon the first had the same speedrun friendship that gideon had with camilla

they fought each other once and one of them thought "you're friend-shaped :) "

so, mati nonius is willing to go help gideon the first with the beast

because, as we have previously seen, no other lyctor is currently doing what they were supposed to

so, ortus says he'll go with mati to help gideon the first

abby and magnus want him to go with them to be forever happy in their polycule, but it's too late

abby has insulted his spelling and magnus has made him feel uncomfy with his joke about the flirting

HOWEVER protozoa has told him he actually likes him AND has quoted poetry HE WROTE HIMSELF

enemies to friends to lovers to soulmates

martita, who was there the whole time, ties her sword to her broken hand and says she'll go with them

martita is actually cool for a second house person

judith, you didn't deserve her

NOW THERE'S A PROBLEM

A BIG ONE

if harrow doesn't go back to her body, she'll get lost and lose her mind in the river

if she does, though, she's gonna kill gideon for good

harrowcita has a crisis and a breakdown

(and also stops for just a second to remember gideon rolling up her sleeves)

magnus compares the situation to a breakup he had with abby one time, which I don't think really encompasses the gravity of this situation, but ok magnus, it sure is similar

I mean, the breaking up part maybe but the level of gravity of the situation? idk man

I'm sure breaking up with abby felt this dramatic to you but...it's a little different

abby and magnus leave, telling harrowcita that jeanne said to tell gideon "hi" if harrow sees her first

which is super cute of the kid tbh

so, that leaves us with real!dulcinea

who is still here because

1) much like her lyctor counterpart, is very resistant to dying for good

2) she's determined to get vanished into nothingness and disappear into the very essence of existence, which I think sounds pretty cool

"The Seventh says nothingness is the only truly beautiful thing anyway, so nyah"

3) also: "Actually, I've got something to tell you"

I SURE HOPE IT IS A WAY TO SAVE BOTH GIDEON'S AND HARROW'S LIVES

FINGERS CROSSED

and that's it for this chapter!!!! next time, I'm expecting more gideon and yandere twin antics!!!

#luly reacts to tlt #tlt spoilers #tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #long post #gif cw

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readingcherik · 7 months ago

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Erik/Charles AO3 Fic Recs: Part 1

shamelessly adding some of my favorite fics that I've read and posted on this blog already, but they'll be all in one place. some may be familiar or well-known, but hopefully, there will be some that are new.

if you visit this blog on desktop, you can filter by 'favorites' to find all my favorite fics at once; but for those on mobile, hope this helps!

Do You Love Me by cgf_kat

Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon. ReadingCherik Notes: Warnings for mpreg. One of the first Cherik fics I read, and I still think about it. Very well thought out plot with characters that we all love sprinkled in via wonderful ways. If you love a good apocalyptic fic, definitely recommend.

The stars incline us, they do not bind us by ikeracity & Pangea

Summary: Intergalactic Federation pilot Lieutenant Charles Xavier is assigned last-minute to a high profile mission: transporting over two thousand prison inmates from an old and overfilled prison complex to a newer, higher-capacity prison stronghold located on the outer reaches of the galaxy. Just as he's settling down for a long and uneventful ride, things take a turn for the worse after the inmates riot and stage a hostile takeover of the ship, leaving Charles to find himself at the complete mercy of cold-blooded killers and facing the chilling prospect that he might not ever make it back home alive. ReadingCherik Notes: Warnings for dub-con and non-con. These two authors are powerhouses on Cherik ao3, and putting them together created this beautiful masterpiece. Moments in this fic are heavy and tough, so if physical angst and hurt aren't you're thing, perhaps pass this one up.

The Courtship by danveresque

Summary: A story about a courtship that began five hundred years ago. ReadingCherik Notes: I cannot describe how much I love this fic. It's a reincarnation fic where the two main characters Erik and Charles are related to their old ancestors Magneto and Professor X. This fic tackles the age old question of, "If given another try, would things be different?", and this author paints a beautiful picture on the route to breaking the cycle of Magneto and Professor X's souls. 11/10, must read.

Space Jam by Pangea

Summary: Prince Charles Xavier is Deputy Commander of the TEF Heartsteel and the newest mission they've been assigned starts out less than desirable and quickly goes downhill from there. It's alright, though, he'll cope. It doesn't help, though, that he's in unrequited love with his best friend and Commander of the Heartsteel, War-Prince Erik Lehnsherr. ReadingCherik Notes: Another Pangea fic, but this one reads completely differently. Very fun, very light, and the tone of this fic is just a breath of fresh air. There are many fics in this series, this being the first; so if you want a lighthearted yet plot-filled fic, I'd recommend.

The World Outside Was Hungry by tzigane & Zaganthi (Caffiends)

Summary: He supposed that he wasn't the only member of the psychology department who heard voices, nor was he the only one who did not attribute it to illness. ReadingCherik Notes: Erik and Charles meet as teenagers. This is their love story with a twist that is so well-written. Closely related to the comics, but even without reading them, I understood. Great, great fic.

How deep is the ocean, how high is the sky by Kworei

Summary: Young Charles and Magnus on a date on a summer evening. ReadingCherik Notes: This fic was just so touching and warm when I first read it that it immediately became a favorite. Once again, aligns with the comics; and it's just pure joy with two young mutants who love each other.

Lift me from my preconceptions by LimerenceKing

Summary: Online dating is hard enough, but being both mutant and disabled made it much harder for Charles. He thinks he finally finds someone, and sets out to go on a date with her. // Author here, I’m disabled and I’ve seen a few fics try this sort of story, but I’ve decided to give it ago with my help from my own perspective. Here’s an actual disabled Charles fic for you :) ReadingCherik Notes: This fic, oh god, this fic. So good, so well-written, so important. I feel like we don't get this perspective enough in fics, and there's always a time and place for it; and this author just blew me away. Excellent fic.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours by madneto & Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it. Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people. ReadingCherik Notes: This is a Fifth Element AU, and I love love love that movie; and this fic does it so much justice. Quirky just like that film, similar in all the right spots and different everywhere else.

#cherik #cherik fic #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #erik/charles #charles x erik #erik x charles #charles/erik #charles xavier x erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x charles xavier #readingcherik

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wannab-urs · 6 months ago

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Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 46

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Dave York

Pitch Black - Dave series by @whataperfectwasteoftime

Dave York is a DIA operative by day, and a contract killer by night. When he has a chance encounter with an innocent bystander on the stairs and chooses to save her from a band of rival mercenaries, will he be able to stop himself from getting too involved?

Gun mention, references to murder, blood, mercenaries, implied violence, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV sex (they did have the talk but it was AFTER and pls don’t do that)

Under False Pretenses - Dave series by @joelalorian

A challenging mission, whirlwind marriage, and an unexpected yet captivating stepdaughter push Dave York to the brink as secrets, feelings, and loyalties collide.

Stepdad trope. Unspecified age gap but I imagine a lil' baby one of about 5 to 10 years. Soft, yet sexy and intense Dave, several twists, Russian spy ring causing trouble, action, angst, deception, fluff, humor, a puppy(!), a variety of SMUT. Mentions of cancer and being a widower. No use of y/n. Dave will give reader a nickname based on his perception of her. First handful of chapters are a slow burn, then it's game on! Individual chapters will have specific warnings when applicable.

Yes Ma'am - Dave one shot by @sizzlingcloudmentality

life goes sideways and Dave is close to snapping. he needs professional help. aka let himself be dominated and be at the receiving end for once. good thing he has your number.

sub-ish!Dave (how sub can a born dom be?), dominatrix!reader, no use of y/n, reader is able-bodied, Dave is a good husband and father™️, Molly throwing up, slight humiliation (the boy being called dummy <3), slight ball torture, (guided) masturbation (m), finger sucking, petnames (ma'am, good boy, love), cum eating, slight shoe worship, dick+pussy pronouns, reader wears lipstick, nail polish and stilettos, squint and you miss unprotected PinV

Dave/Others

Looking - Marcus P/Dave one shot by @mothandpidgeon

Although you're married, Marcus Pike takes you up on your proposition. Your husband, Dave, doesn't mind if you sleep with other men...if he can watch.

voyeurism, oral sex, (highly unadvisable) unprotected sex, cum play, threesome, spanking

Dieter Bravo

Movin' in a technicolor beat - Dieter one shot by @quinnnfabrgay-writes

Dieter comes in your mouth. You come in his. You make out. That's the plot.

straight up smut, oral (both), fingering, gratuitous cum worship, cum play

Din Djarin

Prisoner - Din series by @almostempty

this time our fav bounty hunter is the bounty and you're on a mission to capture him and claim your reward

my interpretation of pre-canon younger din djarin aka as they said in the 1991 action/thriller classic Point Break he's "young, dumb, and full of cum" aka moody reckless and virile din, some canon typical violence, one (1) tranquilizer injected by needle, dirty talkin' din, bulge riding, opposite of a virgin kink if u squint? mayhaps a filthy whore kink? (dubcon to come in part two bc of course i would, sub!din djarin will also be coming in part two)

Din/Others

Breaking Down Walls Din/Dio one shot by @crowandmousewritingco (mouse)

Dio doesn't lose fights, but what happens when he does.

dio gets his ass beat, emotions, fluff

At his side (in his bed) - Din/Paz one shot by @hauntedhowlett

They call you the whore of Mandalore. Nothing more than the woman at side of the ruler of New Mandalore, Din Djarin, a pretty little prize that he likes to share with with his General Commander, Paz Vizsla. Mandalorians have always been good at keeping their secrets.

explicit language, writer considers din his first name, alternate universe - Mand’alor din djarin, use of Mando’a, threesome (MFM), degradation kink, pet names (sweet AND derogatory), explicit breeding kink, spitroasting, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m&f receiving), come play, semi-public sex, dom/sub undertones, bratty reader, fingering, no plot just smut.

Frankie Morales

She comes first - Frankie series by @just-here-for-the-moment

You're on the hunt for a man to dom and you come across Frankie

Femdom; Frankie is brand new to SSC (safe/sane/consensual) BDSM; characters drink alcohol; curse words and vulgar language (all the good stuff you expect from one of my smutfics); eventual smut; lots and lots and lots of talking about BDSM limits (but I tried to make it hot).

Frankie/Others

Non-standard Issue - Frankie/Ezra one shot by @bonezone44

Ezra and Frankie stay behind while the other Triple Frontier boys go out.

D/s, bondage, lacy undies, oral (m), lovingly degrading dirty talk (Ezra is a mess)

Javier Peña

A New Year's Distraction - Javi P one shot by @lotusbxtch

Javi doesn't realize that you've got a surprise waiting for him at home.

PWP let’s be real lol, secret established relationship, foul language, (1) suggestive note, mentions of food and alcohol, foodplay, consumption of alcohol, mention of masturbation, brief masturbation, brief sex toy usage, spitting, squirting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up people), creampie, (1) pussy slap, Spanish nicknames and phrases, (1) use of the word 'slut' (but Reader is into it)

Without a Reward - Javi P one shot by @pedgito

Javier's a creature of habit, a man of opportunity, and you were unlucky enough to find him when he's at his most desperate.

informant!reader, set through beginning of season 3 narcos to end, angst, smut, involvement with the cali cartel, paying for info and sex, javier's a gentleman i swear, gratuitous smut, jealous!javi, protected/unprotected piv, creampies, oral (f receiving), some vague violence toward the end, happy ending

Javi P/Others

Baby, I'm-a Want You - Javi/Joel series by @pertovar

javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

unprotected p in a, oral, fingering, ass eating, use of plugs, gay terminology (bear, twink, etc), handjobs, blowjobs, swearing, smoking

Joel Miller

My paramour, my evermore - Joel one shot by @schnarfer

Joel Miller is the loss of your life

Knights and Kings AU, sort of GOT adjacent but no dragons, VERY heavy on the angst, infidelity (reader is married & there are mentions of her children), grown up Sarah, allusion to smut, Joel miller’s filthy mouth, mentions of death, so much longing, a kiss. Always fleabag coded.

Teacher's Pet - Joel one shot by @javiscigarette

25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.

PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet

That's the way road dogs do it - Joel series by @joelsdagger

on a night out with friends, you run into someone from your past.

[no-outbreak au], big girthy age gap [reader is in her 20’s, joel is 50’s], alcohol consumption, allusions to cheating [not by joel or reader], no sarah or ellie but joel has a son, joel has tattoos and is a biker, pet names [darlin’, baby, kiddo], sexualization of the term kiddo [from the deepest darkest pits of my soul…idfc], a little bit of humiliation, panty sniffing, a teensy bit of fingering, a little manhandling, pervy!joel [he’s also a little fucked up and really unhinged but so am i so whateva], pussy pronouns, dirty talk [umm it gets weird lol], daddy kink, degradation, semi-public sex, rough unprotected p in v sex, mirror sex, hair pulling, dubcon [joel takes pictures of her that she doesn’t verbally consent to], smidgen of angst [ofc bc it’s me], creampie, body marking/writing [use of a pen], soft!joel, reader wears a skirt, has hair, wears makeup, and has two tattoos that are described within the story

BDSMaid - Joel series @mountainsandmayhem

After recently graduating from university, your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. It’s only temporary and a good way to save money for when you go back to get your law degree. That’s what you’re promised at least. Easy. Simple. Mundane. That is, until one of your clients is home and everything that you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

In order to avoid spoilers I will not be warning you of everything. This story will contain sexually explicit material around the world of BDSM. Please remember that even with the age gap between Joel and Reader, they are both legal and consenting adults. Note: Reader is fully described to be a small white girl with freckles, but she is unnamed and the story is in second person. It's worth the read even if you don't fit that description, IMO

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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