#And almost let said cult kill him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

burnednotburied · 3 months ago

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Chapter 7: Lost Haven

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Pairing: Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Fic Synopsis: Abby goes looking for Owen and ends up on the wrong end of your knife.

Tags/CWs: angst; slowburn; mutual pining; enemies to friends to lovers; talks of purity culture/ideals and “sin”; internalized homophobia and some comp-het feelings (they’re both so gay but so dumb about it); animosity between WLF and Seraphites; blood/gore; descriptions of being hanged; religious/cult-like ideas; character deaths (canon AND non-canon)

Note: The last chapter was short and (mostly) sweet. This one... not so much.

Enjoy!

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This was your fault.

You knew Lev was upset. You knew Yara was having trouble getting through to him. But instead of talking to him – making sure he understood exactly why none of you could go back to the island, handling the situation that was yours to handle – you’d been too busy worrying about your clothes and almost kissing Wolves.

As you raced after Yara through the dimly lit hallways of the aquarium, you silently berated yourself for getting so distracted. For losing sight of what was important. For failing to predict that Lev would do something reckless if you didn’t keep him in your sight.

If anything happened to him, you would never forgive yourself.

A strong gust of wind hit your face as you made it into open air, looking out on the makeshift dock where Owen’s boat floated idly. He was already out there, standing near Mel as the two of them looked out at the open water.

Ominous dark clouds and another punishing current of air told you a storm was coming.

“Are we sure he’s heading to the island? Maybe he’s just blowing off steam,” Abby offered, attempting a comforting tone.

“No,” Yara said. The three of you joined the two others, and Yara pointed out in the same direction Owen and Mel had been looking. “That’s him. He’s definitely going to the island.”

You could just barely make out a small boat in the distance.

“Shit,” Abby breathed out.

“What’s he doing?” Mel asked.

“He’s going after her.” Yara’s hand grasped onto the metal fence in front of her desperately.

“After who?”

“His mom,” Abby supplied.

“She’s going to kill him, Prophet! You know that,” Yara turned to you, looking devastated. Your fingers curled into tight fists, nails digging into your palms. It was true. You would have to go after him.

“Woah, wait. What? Prophet?” And then it occurred to you that that was something Owen and Mel were not aware of.

But that didn’t matter right now.

“Your boat.” You turned to meet Owen’s wide eyes. “Does it work?”

There was a brief moment where he seemed to battle with whether or not to push about the Prophet thing, but he chose to let it go. He shook his head. “Not yet.”

“How much time do you need?” Abby asked.

“Uhhh,” he looked away, thinking. “A few hours. At least.”

“Fuck.” Abby turned to you. You were about to ask if there was somewhere else you could get a boat – and you had begun to wonder if you shouldn’t just run off by yourself and hope you came across one quickly by chance – but Abby was already thinking the same thing, already moving, already prepared to jump back into danger for you and your friends. “We’ll head him off. We’ll grab a boat from the marina–”

“Hey! She just had surgery.” Mel threw an arm out in front of Yara, who had begun to follow you, Abby, and Owen.

“I’m fine,” Yara insisted, pushing past the woman.

You paused, reaching blindly behind you to pull Abby back.

“No, she’s right,” you said. You needed to stop and think about this before you went forward. There was no good way to go about this, but one option was definitely better than the rest. You found Abby’s eyes and realized that you had somehow gone from pulling her by her wrist to holding her hand.

You didn’t let go.

“I could use your help to find a boat, but then I need to do the rest by myself.”

Abby pulled away in shock, and her and Yara’s responses came immediately and simultaneously.

“Fuck that!”

“What? No! You can’t!”

You nodded, doubling down. This was the right thing to do. You were sure of it. “Going to the island would be deadly for anyone here except me.” Again they both tried to protest as you went on. “I know the island better than almost anyone else. On my own, there’s a good chance I could stay undetected. And even if they were to catch me, it would be fine. They don’t know that I deserted. And even if they suspected as much, I’m confident that I can convince them otherwise. Worst case scenario, they won’t kill me immediately like they would the rest of you.”

“You’re not going by yourself,” Abby said, and it was your turn to protest, but she cut you off. “Yara should stay here, but I’m going with you.”

“I’m coming too,” Owen stated matter-of-factly, just as Yara said, “I am going!”

Mel and Abby both jumped to argue with Owen. You left them to figure that out and pulled your friend to the side to talk privately.

“Yara,” you began, “stay here. Please. Help them get ready to leave for Santa Barabara. I promise I’ll bring Lev back.”

“I just–”

“Lev wouldn’t want you to get hurt. Especially not because of him.”

Yara’s eyes went back out to the water, as if she could make him come back through sheer force of will. You wished the same. You didn’t want to go back to the island, and you really didn’t want Lev to be in danger.

“I’ll get him. I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Yara was silent for a moment as the first rolls of thunder rumbled loudly.

“I’ll stay,” she said. “But you have to agree to take Abby with you.”

“You already trust her more than me, don’t you?” Your words took on a lightly teasing tone.

“Of course not.” She gave you a small smile as, you assumed, her eyes found Abby somewhere behind you. “But you need someone to watch your back. Lev wouldn’t want you to get hurt either. And neither do I.” She stepped forward and hugged you. It was a bit awkward on your end – with you having to be careful to avoid her healing wound – but it was the first time anyone had embraced you in years. In fact, you were pretty sure the last time had been when Yara hugged you on the morning of your scarring ceremony.

You cleared your throat. Even if emotions hadn’t already been running high, you would’ve had to swallow down some tears in that moment.

“Yara?” you said, still holding her.

“Yes?”

“When we get back, I’m really going to need you and Lev to stop calling me Prophet.”

She let out a little laugh at that as you parted. “Deal.”

When you looked back at the other three, you found them standing in the same place you’d left them, watching you and Yara, apparently having already come to an agreement themselves. By the look on Owen’s face, it hadn’t gone the way he wanted it to.

So it would be just the two of you then.

You looked to Abby.

“Ready?”

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The process of getting a boat wasn’t nearly as straightforward as Abby thought it would be. And it had taken a lot longer than she would’ve liked.

At the marina, the two of you were greeted by the sound of gunshots. She asked you to stay there, hidden near the dock, while she grabbed a boat.

If there were WLF soldiers nearby, being spotted with you would be a problem. Your lack of facial scars meant you weren’t recognizable as a Seraphite at a glance, but you were still a stranger. She didn’t know how to explain you being with her in a way that wouldn’t bring up too many questions. All in all, it would be easier and faster for her to go alone.

You surprisingly didn’t argue with her, willing to hang back for a bit if it meant getting to the island – getting to Lev – quicker.

Abby almost immediately ran into Manny and found that the gunshots were coming from one of the trespassers who’d come out of nowhere and been hitting WLF hard the last few days.

She didn’t get the chance to ask Manny what he meant by that.

The trespasser shot him in the head.

But she got close enough to see him. Close enough to fight with him hand-to-hand.

It was Tommy Miller, Joel’s brother – a realization that made her worry about what these trespassers were here for and what they meant to do.

But Abby was great at setting things aside for later for the sake of focusing on one problem at a time.

And right now, she needed to get you and get to Lev.

By that point, you’d already caught up to her – because of course you hadn’t actually stayed very far behind at all – but you still needed a boat.

Abby found a small motorboat tied to one of the docks that proved to be in working order. She got it going, sat behind the wheel, and headed out toward the island, quickly reaching the boat’s top speed, trying to make up for lost time.

You had been silent since you got on the boat, looking out at the water. She cleared her throat, speaking loudly over the combined roar of the motor, the wind, and the water. “So how do we get to that village in one piece?”

Your eyes remained focused ahead. “There are blind spots along the coast we can boat into. From there, we’ll follow back roads.”

“They’re safe?”

“It’s the safest option we have.”

You wore the same expression you’d had since you found out Lev had run off, eyebrows drawn together, a storm in your eyes just as strong as the one in the sky. You were worried, but it was more than that.

Abby had to call your name twice before you turned to her, reluctant to meet her eyes. “This isn’t your fault, you know.”

You shook your head once and looked back out towards the island, pointing as you began to direct her to the best entrypoint.

The island was weirdly exactly what Abby expected, given what she knew about the Seraphites, and yet seeing it with her own eyes was still shocking.

The Washington Liberation Front used existing buildings from the Old World. SoundView Stadium and the Lakehill Seattle Hospital. Schools and office buildings. They didn’t build so much as clean, repair, and repurpose.

The Seraphites had built a whole new world on the island. Wooden structures, villages, homes, farmlands.

It was honestly impressive.

As promised, you had been leading the way through the woods, using backroads. You had yet to run into any other people, but Lev and Yara’s village was further inland, and it was only a matter of time before it became unavoidable.

Abby wondered if you were prepared to kill your own people. And if you would hold it against her when she did, to keep you safe and to get to Lev.

You had been quiet for a while, deftly navigating through a thick stretch of forest with her following close behind. If you didn’t want to talk, she wasn’t going to force the issue.

It had begun raining a while ago, although the worst of the storm hadn’t hit yet. The outfit Mel gave you hadn’t included a jacket, and you’d left your cloak behind with the dress.

Would you be offended if she offered you her jacket? Abby wasn’t sure, but you didn’t seem to be bothered by the rain or the cold.

At a point of higher elevation, you came to a stop, looking out onto a huge settlement in the distance along the western coast.

“Woah. Is that the village?” she asked, using one hand to shield her eyes from the rain to get a better look.

“No,” you said. “That’s Haven, our capital. And that–” You stepped closer to Abby, placing a hand on her shoulder as you shifted your weight to the tips of your toes so your eyelines were level. She leaned into the touch, bringing your faces even closer, cheeks nearly brushing. You pointed to a specific building just north of the large town. It was bigger than the rest and even from that distance, Abby could tell that it was nicer. More carefully and intentionally made and maintained. “–That is Sanctuary. It was the first Prophet’s home and a sacred place of worship. And it’s where I lived after my scarring ceremony.”

You let several moments pass before your hand fell and you dropped back down to your heels, taking a step to the side.

Sometimes it seemed that you touched her without realizing, without meaning to. And then there’d be a moment when you’d become aware of your actions and pull away.

She wished you wouldn’t. But now wasn’t the time for that conversation.

“The village is further east.” You turned to go, continuing back into the forest. Abby stood there for a second longer, looking out at the place you’d spent much of your life, being literally worshiped and yet entirely controlled, and she wondered how strange it must feel for you to come back now.

“Don’t linger,” you said, turning back to find that she hadn’t moved. “They have scouts. They might see you.”

She glanced back one more time before following.

“Are you sure the Wolves are attacking tonight?” you asked, breaking several minutes of silence, both of you having been lost in thought.

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s what my friend told me. They’ll use this storm as a cover for the attack. Unless Isaac changes his mind.”

“Will he change his mind?”

Abby’s gaze was locked onto the ground in front of her. “...I doubt it.”

You stopped abruptly, a gasp leaving your throat. Her eyes shot up, hand flying to her gun at her side.

“Fuck,” she breathed.

Two WLF soldiers were dead, disemboweled in typical Seraphite fashion, one hanging from an old road sign and the other discarded on the ground like trash. They had clearly been dead for several days, but Abby pulled the gun from the holster on her right thigh anyway. Just in case.

“Did you know them?” you asked, turning to her.

“I’ve seen them around.” Abby brushed it off and kept walking, taking the lead.

“I’m sorry,” you said, running to catch up, voice sincere despite the fact that you hadn’t been the one to do it.

It’s not your fault, she wanted to say.

“It is what it is,” she said instead. And then, because she was curious, “Have you ever–?”

“No,” you said quickly and definitively. “You were supposed to be my first.” Abby felt her cheeks warm. You hadn’t meant it that way at all of course, but that’s where her mind went. She let out a weird, strangled, kind-of-coughing noise that only aided in deepening her blush.

You went on, unaware, “It was supposed to be a big deal. They were calling it my first kill.” You sounded put off by the whole thing, like very nearly killing Abby had been so beneath you. “That’s why they were letting me off the island for the first time. Things… obviously didn’t go as the Elders planned.”

“Well I feel… weirdly honored,” she said, an attempt at lightening the mood.

“Honored that you were chosen to be my first kill? Or honored that I didn’t actually kill you?” you asked, brows slightly raised but playing along.

“Both I guess.” She shrugged as you sped up a bit so you could walk side-by-side instead of one after the other.

“Yeah well.” You bumped her gently with your shoulder. “I’m glad I didn’t kill you.”

Abby scoffed. “You were never actually going to do it.”

“Yes I was!”

She scoffed again. “Sure. If you say so, princess.”

“I absolutely was going to kill you,” you said, feigning offense. “Abby, if Lev and Yara hadn’t shown up exactly when they did, you would be so dead right now.”

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. To anyone else, this might’ve been a weird thing to joke about, but between the two of you it worked.

“You really don’t think I could’ve done it.” Your eyes were wide in realization, and now you looked like maybe you were truly offended.

“All I’m saying is,” Abby said, smiling to herself, “there seemed to be a whole lot of hesitation on your end of things.”

“Well I’m not saying that I wanted to do it,” you insisted, watching her as you walked. “I’m just saying that I could’ve.”

“Uh huh. Whatever you say.” She knew she was goading you, but it was the first time she’d seen you get anywhere close to a smile since you left the aquarium.

“Shut up,” you mumbled harshly, whipping your head back around to face forward.

That made Abby really laugh. She’d never heard you say anything like that before.

You were biting your tongue, trying to suppress a smile of your own.

A loud, low groaning alarm sounded out over the island, and your face instantly fell.

“What is that?”

“It’s our warning signal,” you said, pulling Lev’s bow over your shoulder and grabbing an arrow. “Your people are here. The whole island will be on alert now.”

“God damn it, Isaac,” Abby muttered to herself.

“We’ll cut through the logging camp. This way,” you took a left, leaving the path you’d been on. “We no longer have the luxury of taking the long way to stay hidden. We need to hurry.”

Abby nodded, even though you weren’t looking at her. “How many people live here?”

“Around a thousand.”

“How many soldiers?”

“More than half are trained in combat.”

“What are the other half going to do when my people get here?”

“Some will hide. Most will fight,” you said, leading the way into the nearest village.

It was empty. No one around, ready to attack.

“Where is everyone?”

“The children will have been taken to shelters as soon as the signal went off. Everyone else is probably moving towards the coast to face the Wolves.”

The second small village you passed through was still being evacuated. As expected, when they caught sight of Abby, they attacked. In the chaos, no one seemed to get a close enough look at you to recognize who you were.

Abby fought. And killed.

You fired more than a few arrows.

And then you moved on to the next village, making a near-straight shot to where you knew Lev would be.

Abby paused just within the treeline.

In the trunk of a tree, someone had painstakingly sculpted a life-sized, hyper-realistic statue of you. Just above your head, the words “May Her light guide us” were carved.

You stopped next to Abby, regarding the figure in your likeness for a moment.

“‘When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light,’” she said quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Just… something my dad used to say.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, glancing down to where the trunk met the earth.

“Those are new,” you said, referring to the mass of flowers that were carefully placed around the tree.

It reminded Abby of the flowers people put near the graves and memorials of their dead loved ones.

“It’s like they’re mourning you,” she said.

“They think I’m dead?” you asked, knowing she couldn’t have an answer.

Abby pulled her eyes away from the intricate carving to look at the real, living, breathing version of you beside her. “Where are we going?”

Without looking away from the flowers, you said, “See that tall tower?”

“The Space Needle?”

“The what?”

“The – never mind. Yeah. I see it.”

“Head towards it.”

You knelt down, letting the fingers of your left hand graze over some of the flowers. When they landed on a daisy, you picked it up, stood, and carefully pushed it into your pocket.

She waited patiently before following you onward.

You had to get through a few more villages – and the few Scars who had been left behind to defend them – before you got to the right one.

At least Abby thought it must be the right one. Because you had come to a full stop and were staring at one specific house.

“Is that it?” she asked, putting a hand on your shoulder to bring you back down to earth.

“No,” you whispered absentmindedly. “It’s this one.” You walked towards the house across from the one you’d been staring at, bow drawn, arrow nocked.

Abby moved ahead of you and slid the door open.

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A lit fire pit in the center of the large, open room illuminated the space in an orange glow. You stepped inside, letting your weapon fall when you saw the lifeless body in front of the fire.

It was Lev and Yara’s mother.

Blood ran from a wound in her skull, pooling on the floor beneath her.

You let out a shaky breath.

And whipped around when you heard your name uttered from an even shakier voice coming from the corner of the room.

“Lev!” He was sitting, knees up, arms wrapped around them, curled in on himself, eyes locked on his mom. “Oh thank god,” you breathed out, rushing over. You were on your knees in front of him before you saw the damage that had been done. Cuts all across his face and arms. Your heart sank even deeper. “Did she do this to you?”

Lev let out a few hiccupping breaths, still staring past you at the body. “I just tried talking to her. I tried to make her understand, but she… she just kept yelling. She started chasing me. I tried to make her stop. I was just pushing her off of me…” His volume grew, voice becoming more desperate as he tried to explain.

“Hey hey hey,” you whispered, trying to soothe, wanting to fix.

“–Then she hit the table,” he sobbed.

“Listen to me.” Your hand was on his elbow, thumb gently circling. “You were defending yourself. You did nothing wrong.” When he finally met your eyes, you wrapped your arms around him and held him as he cried, grasping onto you so tightly it took your breath away. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

You stayed there for several minutes, holding him against you, rubbing his back as he kept his face buried where your shoulder met your neck. You held him until his sobbing subsided and his breathing slowed. You remembered how Yara used to hug you when you were kids, never being the first to let go, and you hugged her little brother – your little brother – in just the same way.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head and squeezed a little tighter.

“I wanna leave,” he said, voice muffled against you.

“Yeah, me too.” When he lifted his head, you stood, offering him a hand up. He took it and kept holding on, even once he was standing too. “Come on,” you said, motioning to the door.

Abby was there – she had been there the whole time – and her eyes looked soft and sad when they met yours.

“Hey, kid,” she said to Lev, offering him one of her handguns. You squeezed his hand one last time before letting it go so he could grab it, glad that Abby had the forethought to make sure he was armed.

He wiped his face with his shirt sleeve before taking the weapon from her. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve–”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m just glad we found you. Let’s go.”

He nodded as she turned to push the door back open. The three of you stepped back out into the rain.

“What’s happening? Wolves?” Lev asked.

“Yeah,” you said, taking the lead. “All over the island.” Your eyes caught again on the house across the way, making you pause.

Lev stopped next to you, immediately understanding. “She’s not there.”

“I figured.”

“Do you want to go in?” he asked.

“We don’t have time,” you said, but you couldn’t turn away.

“We’re never coming back here, right?”

“God, I hope not.”

“Then let’s make time,” he said, making the decision for you as he walked over and opened the door. You followed behind him, and Abby followed behind you, not asking any questions.

The inside of your mother’s house was much the same as Lev’s and Yara’s. One large, open room on the first floor. Fire pit in the center. A ladder leading up to a loft.

It looked nearly the same as you remembered it, though you hadn’t stepped foot in there in eight years. There was the stool in front of the mirror where you’d tried not to cry while your mom fixed your hair over and over again until she deemed it ‘as close to perfect as imperfect people can be’ on your last morning here. There was the table where you did your lessons and learned to read the scripture, and where you’d sit and have meals as a family, back before your dad died. The little wooden animals your dad used to carve in his rare, precious spare time. The bed where your mother slept.

Everything was the same. Except for the far wall.

Where there was once a painting of the first Prophet, your own face now stared back at you. And next to the painting, in neat lettering:

“The world is not in balance,

But I have done my part to right it.

You have led me through the storm.

May the current be calm.

May you guide me home.”

“What’s that?” Abby asked, speaking for the first time since you entered the house.

“The Prophet’s prayer,” you said quietly, turning away from the wall entirely.

“She prays to it,” Lev said matter-of-factly. “The painting,” he clarified.

“I could’ve gone without knowing that, Lev,” you said, sounding cross despite your efforts not to.

“Your mom?” Abby asked. “This is her house, right?”

“Yep,” Lev answered for you.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“It’s like the Elders decided you were the new Prophet and then everyone lost their minds,” he went on as you made your way over to the ladder and climbed up to the loft. “Your mom stopped calling you her daughter. Suddenly your face was everywhere, but we weren’t allowed to go see you or talk to you. We weren’t even supposed to talk about you, you know, before. Someone overheard Yara using your real name, and they… The punishment was severe.”

You listened as you stood alone in the loft, looking around at what used to be your bedroom. This, your mother had left completely untouched. It seemed like no one had even been up here in the eight years you’d been gone. “I’m listening,” you reassured Lev as you began searching for something. The one thing you wanted to take with you before you left forever.

“After that, it was hard to even think of you as the same person we knew. The girl who used to braid little flowers into crowns for us. Who came up with the best games and told the wildest stories and broke the rules but only in ways that didn’t really matter and only when you knew you wouldn’t get caught… The girl who carried me back home, all the way across the island, when I fell and broke my foot, singing the whole way because you knew it would make me feel better.” He paused for a second before continuing, “You were the first person who I told I didn’t like my name – I didn’t like the way it made me feel – so, without asking me a single question, without asking me to explain myself or justify anything, you just… never called me that name again.” Lev’s voice broke just a little, and you wiped away a few of your own tears as you continued looking. You knew this was everything he’d needed to get off his chest, probably since long before you were reunited a few days ago, and you didn’t want to interrupt. “You were our sister and then one day they took you away from us. And no one but me and Yara seemed upset about it. Our mom was weird. Your mom was even weirder. Everyone acted like you were a god. The God. Not even a person. And like everything else, everything before, didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t real. They made us believe it.”

You finally found what you’d been looking for, and you could sense that Lev had run out of things to say, at least for the time being, so you shoved it in your pocket with the daisy, climbed back down the ladder, walked over to him, and hugged him tightly again.

“They’re good at that,” you said quietly. “At making us forget… But it’s okay. We’re together now. Let’s get out of here.” He sniffled and nodded as you pulled away. “I’m surprised you remember all of that. You were so young.”

He said your name, eyebrows drawing together like he shouldn’t have to say this, “You were my favorite person. Of course I remember.”

“Really?” you asked, smiling. “Not Yara?”

“Don’t feel bad for her,” he said, heading to the door. “You were her favorite too.”

Abby brushed past you as she followed Lev out, letting her hand brush against yours as she went. You met her eyes and smiled apologetically, grateful to her for being here. For helping with this.

You took up the back of the line, taking one final look around before shutting that door behind you forever.

Outside, the rain had picked up and daylight was slipping away. By the sounds of it, the fighting had grown closer on all sides, although it hadn’t yet reached the village you were in.

“This way,” you said, taking the lead again.

“Shouldn’t we head back for our boat?” Abby asked when you didn’t start going back the way you’d come.

“No, I hear fighting back there.”

“I hear fighting everywhere,” Abby argued.

Lev stopped next to you. “There are lots of boats in Haven.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” you said. “We’re closer to Haven now than to where we came from anyway. We can cut through Old Town. Avoid the main roads.”

Abby looked unsure, but relented to the two who knew the island. “Alright, princess. Lead the way.”

Your group managed to avoid conflict for a while, from both the Wolves and the Seraphites, staying hidden in the trees and avoiding areas where the fighting was the loudest.

You moved in near silence, keeping the talking to a minimum.

Old Town referred to an area of old buildings, left completely unused by the anti-Old World Seraphites. The thing that had surprised you the most about the mainland was that it looked like Old Town, only much much bigger. The Wolves hadn’t carved out their own place in the world in the same way the Seraphites did.

You wondered if the rest of the world was like that. Just people making the best of what already was instead of building something new.

The three of you moved carefully and quickly through the streets of Old Town, cutting through alleyways and relying mostly on side streets.

“We’re leaving so many people behind,” Lev said as you passed by a few dead Seraphites on the road.

“We can’t help them,” you said. That’s what you had to tell yourself.

“I know.”

“Stay close to me,” you whispered.

“Okay.”

“We need to get off the street,” Abby said, leading you into one of the nearby buildings as the sound of gunshots grew closer.

You lost count of how many buildings you passed through, each of them equally derelict and damp. It took longer, traveling that way, but it meant you were much less likely to be seen.

“This way,” Lev said, pulling himself up and out of a large window that appeared to lead out to a side road. His feet hit the street before either you or Abby had even made it to the window. She was the first to follow after him.

From inside, you couldn’t see what was happening, but you heard a struggle. Someone yelled, “I got one!” And then there was a gunshot.

Your heart lurched.

Abby yelled – no, screamed – Lev’s name.

You pulled yourself up as fast as you could.

But you were too late.

Lev was already on the ground.

He was already gone.

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“Abby?” The WLF soldier gasped as she knocked him out with his own gun.

The one he’d used to kill Lev.

By the time she had taken the man out, you were out the window and on your knees next to Lev. Silent. Staring. Your hands frozen, shaking, hovering just above his body like you wanted to touch him but didn’t know if you should.

Your whole body shook with a sob.

“Gunshots! Over here!” More Wolves were just down the street. You were seconds away from being within their sights.

Abby rushed to you, grabbing your arm. “Hey, we need to move.” She wished more than anything that this wasn’t happening right now. She wanted to give you time, wanted to sit beside you and cry too, but that wasn’t an option right now.

“No!” You pushed her away. Abby didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t move now, you’d be dead too. She hooked her arms under yours and lifted you, trying to carry you away. “No!” you cried out, grabbing for Lev, fighting against her. “I can’t leave him here!”

“We have to!” she insisted, not letting you go.

The Wolves were closing in. “I see someone!”

There was no point. You wouldn’t be able to get away in time. Abby put you down and pushed you behind her, raising her gun. “Stay back!” she shouted as the soldiers came into view.

“Drop it! Now!” one of them demanded while two others said, “Holy shit!” and “It’s Abby!”

“I said stay back!” She held firm, ready to fire at any one of them at a moment's notice.

“Stand down,” came another voice. One Abby recognized.

The man stepped out of the treeline and into view.

“Isaac,” she said.

When he came upon Lev’s body on the ground, he regarded it for a moment before shaking his head and slowly stepping over it.

Abby held her gun to the side, not putting it away but showing that she wasn’t aiming at him. She was, like he’d instructed, standing down.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

She slowly bent down, fingers raised away from the trigger, as she dropped her gun on the ground a few feet in front of her. “I need you to hear me out.”

Isaac took a beat before he responded. “What’s that behind you?”

Abby held a hand up and kept her voice calm, like she was trying to reason with a wild animal instead of a man and a handful of his soldiers. She took a couple steps back, bumping into you, making sure you were close without ever looking away from him. “She saved my life, Isaac.”

“Move out of the way. We’ll deal with you back home.”

He wasn’t listening.

“She’s not one of them. Please,” Abby said, desperation in her voice.

“Abby, move.” He was firm and expected to be obeyed, just as he always did.

But she couldn’t obey this time. She knew what would happen to you if she did. “No. She’s–”

“–The Prophet,” he finished. And then his gaze slid from hers to yours. “Yeah. I recognize you. They’ve got your face plastered all over this island.”

You said nothing, and Abby wanted his attention back on her, away from you. She tried again. “Isaac–”

He cut her off again, this time with a sudden laugh. “I tried to warn you, Abby. Didn’t I?” And then he turned dramatically, to the surrounding Wolves, gesticulating theatrically in her direction. “BEHOLD the power of the Great Scar Prophet!” His eyes landed back on her. “Able to pull my best soldier right out from under me. Make her turn her back on everything she believes in. And everyone she cares about.”

“That’s not– She’s not–” Abby didn’t know how to make him understand. “She’s not part of this.”

“That is correct. She’s not a part of this,” Isaac seethed. “She. Is. This.”

“What–”

“Every time they attack us – every time they slaughter one of our people – it is done in her name. Every new martyr of theirs dies with her face at the forefront of their mind. Every life lost here today is because of her, along with every life that has been lost in the last decade of this war. All of this death and destruction – all of the blood — is on her hands.”

“Isaac, you can’t seriously think–”

And then, for the first time, Isaac pointed his gun directly at Abby, leveling it at her face. “You have three seconds to get away from that Scar,” he said. “One.”

“You’re really gonna shoot me?” Abby reached a hand out behind her, finding you, making sure you were still behind her, still shielded.

“Two.”

“I’m not fucking moving.”

Isaac paused. And Abby thought, for just a second, that he might’ve changed his mind. That he might back down.

And then there was a gunshot.

She flinched, but it wasn’t her who had been shot.

It was Isaac. Shot by–

“Lev!” you shouted, surging forward.

“No!” “What the fuck?” “Shoot him!” The soldiers all turned their guns on Lev and fired.

You screamed.

Abby grabbed your hand and booked it to the nearest building, taking advantage of the chaos. You were too shocked to fight her this time, so you allowed yourself to be pulled away.

“Shit!” “Stop them!” “Don’t let them get away!”

Abby slammed the door closed behind you and pushed a filing cabinet in front of it, grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the building, through another door. Once that one was secure, she reached for you again. If she had to drag you all the way back to the aquarium, she would.

But this time, you ripped your hand away. That’s when you seemed to notice the blood on your hands.

Lev’s blood.

“We need to move.” She wanted you to have time, for you to be able to fully react and process this, but it needed to be later. When you were safe.

You didn’t hear her. Or didn’t care. “He’s gone. Oh my god. He’s gone.”

She said your name, forcefully, trying to draw your eyes to her. “Come on.” She reached for you again, but you yanked your whole body in the opposite direction.

“Those were your fucking people!” you lashed out, much angrier than she’d ever seen you, and for good reason.

“Hey! You’re my people!” she said, matching your volume and intensity. Abby didn’t know where that came from, but she knew that it was true. She took a breath, stepped closer, and tried to touch you again, this time putting her hands on your shoulders. You let her, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Listen to me. We’re gonna have to fight to get out of this, okay? And then I need you to show us to those boats.” You nodded, and she moved her hands from your shoulders to either side of your face, holding your gaze. “We won’t let anybody stop us, yeah?”

“Okay,” you said, barely a whisper.

“Okay.” She stepped back, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Follow me.”

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Haven was burning.

You were on a boat, floating off to safety, while your whole island went up in flames.

Lev was there. Your mother was there. Everything and everyone you knew was there.

But you were here.

In a rowboat.

And you weren’t even helping to row it.

You hadn’t even thought to offer.

The phantom heat of the now distant fires that consumed Haven seemed to lick at the back of your skull as you finally pulled your eyes away, turning to face Abby.

She was rowing slowly, now that you weren’t in imminent danger, her strong arms engaged, face focused. She had to be tired. She’d done so much.

You were only alive because of her.

“I can row,” you said, voice weaker than you meant for it to be.

Abby slowed a bit more, looking you over. “You’re shaking.”

You hadn’t noticed. You clenched your fists tightly, trying to stop the tremors. But it wasn’t just your hands that were shaking. It was your whole body.

Were you cold?

For how long?

You steeled yourself. “I can help.”

She stopped rowing entirely and started to shift. You prepared yourself to switch seats with her, but she wasn’t actually moving. She was only taking off her jacket.

You felt like you should protest, that you should insist you were fine and that she should keep her jacket, but you didn’t have it in you.

When she went to drape it over your shoulders, you let her.

The jacket was soaked, just like everything else in Seattle, but it helped.

You put your arms in the sleeves properly and pulled it tighter around yourself, staring at the floor of the boat.

What you wanted was for your mind to go blank. Thinking about anything was dangerous. You didn’t want to spiral, not right now. You couldn’t create more problems for Abby to deal with. You needed to just get back to the aquarium, get dry, and then–

Yara.

You had to tell Yara what happened.

How could you tell Yara about this? You promised her you’d bring Lev back safe.

Lev.

Images came rushing back to you. You tried to blink them away, but they were stubborn. They lingered.

You swallowed back tears and let your head fall into your hands, trying desperately to focus on your breathing and nothing else. Nothing else. Nothing. Else.

Abby brought the boat right up to a small dock right next to the aquarium. She got out first and tied it off with deft fingers. Then she offered you a hand and pulled you out, stabilizing you as you found balance on embarrassingly shaky legs.

“Got it?” she asked, a hand pressed to your mid-back.

“Yeah.”

She stepped away. “Let’s get out of the rain.”

Someone had barricaded the aquarium door from the inside.

That was the first indication that something was wrong.

The second came soon after, when you found the dog – Alice – dead.

You and Abby were both on high alert, moving through the dark hallways with your weapons drawn.

Then there was the blood. So much of it that there was a pool of it gathering on the other side of the door. Whatever happened – whatever went so terribly wrong here in the time that you were gone today – was through that doorway.

You forgot to breathe.

Abby pressed on.

You really didn’t want to, but you followed.

Into the room with whales on the ceiling and Mel, Owen, and Yara lifeless and bleeding on the floor.

You went numb in a way that had nothing at all to do with the cold. You felt the switch flipping inside of you, the failsafe going into effect. You detached. Walls went up in your mind.

This was good. It meant that maybe, just maybe, you’d make it through this day.

You were somewhat aware of Abby, to your left, as she let out a terrible sound. You thought she was saying “oh,” but no. That didn’t make sense. She was saying “no.” Over and over again as she crumpled to her knees near Owen.

Your eyes locked onto something on the floor by your feet. To get it, you had to step through a pool of blood that had certainly come from one of the three bodies.

But it was just blood, you told yourself. And these were just bodies. Nothing to be done. Nothing to worry about.

Numbly, you bent to pick up what you now realized was a map of Seattle. Someone had written on it, covering it in notes and shapes and names.

After studying it for a minute, your eyes went to Abby. She was on her hands and knees, heaving after having been sick.

You’d give her a moment more if you thought it would help, but you knew it wouldn’t.

This. This map. That would help.

“Abby…” You approached her slowly, letting her make an attempt at pulling herself together. When you were close enough, you held out the map.

She took it, and then she stood slowly, examining it.

When she turned to you, you could tell. She knew the same thing you did.

Someone had been tracking Abby – hunting her – for a while.

----------------------------------------------------------------

“The trespassers,” she said.

They killed Manny.

They killed Owen and Mel.

And, according to the map, they’d gotten to Nora, Jordan, Leah, and Nick too.

All in pursuit of Abby.

Because of something she had done.

But they fucked up.

They left the map.

And now she knew exactly where to find them.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Note: As always, thank you for reading! I'm not the best at responding to comments, but I want you to know that I love and cherish them more than words can say! So if you're leaving them, thank you <3

I'm really excited about the turn the story takes in the next chapter, and I think it'll be really enjoyable to read for anyone who's rooting for Abby and the Prophet! (which is, I assume, everyone who reads this fic lol)

Taglist: @4-atsu @h0meb0dyi @lmaoo-spiderman @quinnsadilla @rew1nds @sapphicontherun @stickynachomaker

#the wolf and the prophet #my writing #abby anderson #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x seraphite

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mayullla · 1 year ago

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Title: Little Sunshine! (Part 2)

Characters: Mainly Akaza with Douma (/Doma) at the end! (Demon Slayer)

Summary: You were taken into the Paradise Faith cult with Kotoha (Inosuke's mother.) And Douma became rather fond of you like he did with Kotoha. When Kotoha ran away, she had no choice but to leave you behind as Douma hid the truth away from you. After becoming a demon you slept for a year and finally woke up again.

Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, fem!child!reader, reader recently got turned into a demon and just woke up

Note: Part 1 is here!

Akaza didn't know when or why he started to become so attached to you. When he was forced to come to Douma's cult to tell that damn demon some news about the demon slayers, he wanted to keep the time there at the minimum.

That was where he met you.

You were alone in the middle of the garden, looking everywhere, confused and tired. He thought you were a human child at first but had to take a second glance when he realized that you were a demon.

He wondered if it was a joke, a demon art of some demon that could turn into a kid. Yet when he saw your eyes, it was clear that you were not a trap made by some weak demon. You looked at him with no fear but with curiosity and wonder. An innocence that was not supposed to be in a demon yet there...

You took a step towards him when your leg suddenly lost energy and started to fall. You thought you would hit the floor, face first into the dirt, but that never happened when the collar of your sleeping robe was grabbed by the mysterious man who was once on top of the wall.

Looking up at him, you saw the man confused face, surprised at his own actions. "Thank you, mister!" You said, returning to looking down to the floor, your feet not quite reaching as you made a kicking motion.

He let you down after a pause, but before Akaza could leave, you started asking him questions. Asking if he knew where Douma was? "How do you know that guy?" Akaza asked curiously at you. You pouted at him as he didn't answer your questions. "I live here! Douma-sama had let me stay!" You told him flapping your shoulders' sleeves.

Somehow, everything clicked in an instant when he realized who you were. He suddenly remembered that long ago, Douma had asked Muzan if he could turn a small kid into a demon a year or two ago.

You were probably the child that he had turned into a demon.

Akaza snapped back into reality when he felt his pants being tugged, looking down to see you holding him, wondering why he wasn't saying anything.

"Mister, are you okay?" You asked curiously. Giving you a grunt, you took it as a sign that he was okay and smiled at him. Watching that smile, it was strange if not weird almost to see it in a demon. Most demons have malicious intent, as most have killed or done things that were morally wrong, even if they haven't by now the smell of blood should linger on their skin. Demons can't eat food anymore to survive.

They needed blood.

Yet here you were. He barely could smell any of it from you. He wondered if this was the first time this ever happened. Why were you even here, Akaza thought to himself as he unconsciously patted your head.

When you giggled, the innocent sounds made him uneasy.

"Mister, play with me!" You called out to him, raising your arms. "Up! Up!" You told him. Akaza blinked again in surprise when he saw you asking him such a thing. Never in his life after becoming a demon did someone ask him to play like this. Most human kids run away either because they already know that he was a demon or they witness him kill someone.

However, you refuse to let your hands down and continue to stare at him. He wondered if you couldn't feel it at all, the difference in rank between him and you. Most demons can't even look at him in the eyes. Yet it seems that you didn't care as you approached him again one step and then suddenly lost strength again, staggering as you thought that you would fall again.

Akaza caught you... again. Why did he do that??

Bring you up to eye level, holding you by the collar Akaza examined you as if you were some foreign alien. You looked at him again and smiled as he wondered why you are so weird?!

Reaching out to him again, you motioned that you want to get on his shoulders.

"... Fine... Just this once." Following your instructions hesitantly as he placed you on his shoulders, holding your legs as you held on his hair. You giggled as you started pointing him in directions to head to, "Go there, Mister! Go there!"

It was so awkward for him as he followed your childish demands, wondering why he was even listening to them. Walking over to trees, you touched the branches that were far too high for you to reach before and beamed at him with self-pride. "I am so tall!" You laughed.

The more the two of you played under the moonlight, the more relaxed Akaza started to become. When was the last time he played like this when he was relaxed with almost no care in the world? He smiled as you showed off to him that you were taller than him when both of you knew that he was carrying you which made you tall.

And Akaza... maybe in a way, wanted to show his powers to you. He thought it would be a fun idea really.

You gasped in surprise when he jumped, the wind on your hair, as you guys reach so high over 3-story buildings up. This was your first time seeing up so high. You shouted in awe and excitement as the both of you landed on the roof of a building. You raved on and on about how cool that was and that Akaza was amazing, with so much respect in your eyes begging him to do it again.

You don't know how long you played with Akaza, jumping higher and higher up in the sky, and you looked at the world around you under the night sky. You didn't know when you fell asleep again, a smile on your lips hugging Akaza's neck as he held you in his arms.

Akaza looked at you in wonder, wondering why you were a demon yet so amazed by what Akaza thought was normal as a demon.

But right now wasn't the time.

"You can show yourself now." Akaza didn't turn around to face Douma. He knew for a long time when the guy showed up but would rather focus on you to really care for the man.

"Ah, Akaza-donno, thank you for taking care of her. She has been sleeping for a while now and must have been so confused to wake alone like this. It is such a shame that I wasn't by her side." Douma walked towards you, his eyes on your hair, your face hidden by Akaza's neck softly snoring away, unable to notice the two demons looking at you.

"She didn't notice anything... she is weak." Akaza stated he could not smell, not even a scent of blood other than Muzan and Douma's in you. In his mind, it was obvious that Douma had been staving you for so long now.

"She has been sleeping for over a year now after her transformation to a demon. The poor little girl refused to drink blood when her senses were telling her to do so. I had an amazing meal prepared just for her, too, that time." Douma smiled, his eyes on you slowly turning to the one holding you. "Thank you for caring for her but I will take it over from her-"

Douma's hand that was reaching out for you suddenly exploded into bits and pieces, spraying blood and flesh. His eyes still smiling as he stared at Akaza showed no emotions of annoyance or anger.

But you could see a small vein on the side of his temple.

Akaza didn't want to give you back to Douma. He didn't want to give you to this sick bastard because Akaza knew that he would break you. And as a demon now, this pain can be forever. Rather than with Douma, Akaza knew you would be father better off with him.

He would not let you go, not like this.

Note: Hope you liked it! Have a nice day guys~

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bogor-o · 27 days ago

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mother rambles ahoyyy

i think ive said before, but a lot of crowns "influence" on Mother is almost entirely just dulling emotions and it usually does this by means of scrambling their head a little just to disrupt whatever is causing the disturbance and usually its just memories

very early on it's not as bad because they're actively trying not to think about their life before becoming a vessel and as time goes on and they're trying to live in a "virtuous" way that means giving mercy to people who don't deserve it, the crown just softens the wave of emotions that only gradually build up and its what keeps Mother balanced enough to handle a lot of the early years of cult management

the lingering survivors guilt will always chip away at them, ovidia wants to believe they would have done things differently but the reality is that every choice they made before their capture and death was deliberate, and they faced the consequences. being caught and inadvertently led to the deaths of her little sisters was a butterfly effect of ovidia never really letting go of the fear of death, and for a very long time in her denial convincing herself it was because if she didnt look out for herself how could she ensure that her sisters would be safe?

mentally he frames everything as "i did it for their sake" when the reality was "i wanted to live by any means necessary"

ovidias want for a future he envisioned for himself was always a priority in the back of his mind and fueled all his choices: the way he looked for food and how it was divided, always taking a little more than her sisters because "i need the energy to care for them" and it makes sense of course, but it meant they would never have enough

when the hunger made them malnourished and sick that one could no longer stand, the most risk she took was looking for anything to ease her dying.

the youngest was still young enough to lie to, young enough that if she said she would be okay that she would have no other choice but to believe ovidia, she was their caregiver what reason would she have not to.

and the only selfless thing they'd done was still carrying their sister as they ran, but was it just an act of love done too late? or was it because finally now when their moments of away from being caught and killed, did they want to have the appearance of a person who would have done anything for their family?

the thoughts and the guilt are what eat away at his psyche to most and its why the crown has had to intervene so often and numb them.

the way they treat their followers is an idealized version of who they wish they could have been, they wished they could have been virtuous and selfless, loving and caring, a Mother to someone. this also meant becoming ruthless to the opposition and taking out any anger boiling inside out on the bishops and heretics

Becoming Mother is the "best" version of themself and to one day "lose" him and becoming themself again is another challenge entirely that takes a toll on them mentally all over again.

They see themselves as a different person and even attribute all their bloodshed as a different entity all together because its easier than admitting it was always them.

post Mother, they only half accept that truth.

#botalks #cotl mother au #i wrote WAY more than i meant but i have so many thoughts abt them #i do not know if ANY of it makes sense #i make more sense when im talking not so much typing oihgertoh #warnings for mention of #cw child death

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blxvdlusttxx · 6 months ago

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Preacher's daughter - Eyeless Jack x Reader

Content warning: Mentions of murder, gore, SMUT, cult activities, sacrifice, dub-con? Jack takes readers virginity, oral (reader receiving) P in V, religion (Christianity) religious trauma? reader questions her religion and belief in God. Degradation (Jack mocks readers religion), corruption kink. mentions of vomiting, praise, pet names (Angel, little thing), angst.

Fem!reader

Request: Yes / No

First smut fic on here! I know i said I'll NEVER write rape-ish fics but I'm trying my hand at not quite non-con but it's a little questionable at the begining, but reader eventually consents so It's not quite out of my confort zone. I've been listening to Ethel Cain's songs Inbred and Strangers and it really inspired this fic.

Again, as mentioned before my stories are based off of Jordan Persegati's videos of the characters so if anything seems off about the story let me know.

Enough yapping, onto the story!

The air felt cold and damp, the smell of blood plagued the wind coming into the cave entrance, making y/n's stomach turn.

She looked up at what her friends had created, the monster they had summoned. She begged them not to do it, pleaded on her knees, hands folded as if she was praying to the God above.

A loud growl could be heard from Jack as he killed the last of her friends that forced him through the sacrifice. A tear rolled down her bloodstained cheek, becoming tainted with the liquid as it trailed down her neck.

Hey eyes widen as she notices that he had also noticed her, slowly approaching her, like a Lion creeps upon his pray. She had never felt so small in her life, he looked so large from her view on the floor. She closed her eyes tight, pushing herself impossibly closer to the wall as she clutched the cross that adorned her neck.

"Darling, God isn't going to help you now." Jack chuckles at the sight of her, his voice horse and scratchy. she looked pathetic, like a tiny child crying for her mother.

"P-please Jack... I didn't want this..." she sobbed, shifting to sit on her knees, head down in shame and fear. She couldn't look at him, she was too ashamed that she couldn't do more to help him out of the disgusting predicament he is now in.

Her plea caused him to chuckle, he crouched down in front of her, looking over her features carefully. She reminded him of a baby deer, her big doe eyes now saddened and filled with tears. Her hair was disheveled and stuck to her face. her white night gown dressed her body loosely, but flattering, the neckline left her collarbones bare, and the cross sat in between them, dangling from her neck. It almost made her look pure, if it weren't for the dirt and blood that stained the white fabric, making it almost see-through.

He smirked at her trembling frame, and stood up before reaching down and slinking his index finger under her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. Her bottom lip quivered, her eyes almost spoke volumes of his preys purity. But Jack knew better, he knew there was room for corruption.

"I'm sorry... I tried to help but they wouldn't listen... p-please I'm so sorry." She sobbed again, her pleas doing nothing more but causing his bloody jeans to tighten at the zipper.

He chuckled again, cupping her cheek with the hand that was holding up her chin, gently stroking her wet cheek with his thumb.

"What's wrong angel? it wasn't your fault" he cooes, looking down at her hungrily. "Your pure heart and "holy" beliefs can only do so much in this sinful world. Is that What you think of me now? A sinner?" He growls. Her eyes widen as she shakes her head frantically.

"N-No! of course not..." y/n whimpers, reaching up and holding onto the arm that touched her.

He enjoyed that look, the look of her on her knees in front of him, weak and bent to his will. He'd almost feel like her God himself, if it weren't for the demon that possessed his soul, hungrily desperate to bend her over and fuck the purity right out of her tight cunt.

He chuckles yet again, and leans down to meet her eyes. He licks his lips starvingly, he wanted to take her. He could, he knows that, but he knew it would be much more satisfying if she wanted it. He wanted to break her, wanted her to beg for him, beg for him to take her all for himself. It was selfish, yes, to steal a girls purity that could only be given once. That pure desire that she'd been saving for so long.

He knew that she was different though. Her eyes could fool anyone, but not him. She took to the "Preacher's daughter" role well, but he knew that she longed for someone to touch her. To make her feel as good as her holy God does.

"You're such a pretty little thing... Christ, look what you do to me" Jack growls lowly, taking ahold of her hand and pressing it firmly against his restrained cock. She whimpers in response, looking down at the evident erection in his pants.

"I-...I don't mean to..." she whispers shamefully, attempting to pull her hand away, He clicks his now elongated tongue against his sharpened teeth and shakes his head.

"I'm afraid God won't help you here, little thing." He snarks, he reaches under her arms and lifts her up, his hands glide down her body to wrap her legs around his waist. He pins her to the wall of the murky cave, leaning in to lick up the side of her neck, nibbling on her ear. A soft moan escapes her lips, her cheeks burning red as another tear rolls down.

"Oh God..." She whines, trying to push away from him.

"How unholy you are, little one" He groans into her ear. "You're not as pure as you let on, are you angel?" he mocks, leaning back to look her in the eyes.

"I-I am....please don't do this." she cries, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.

"No... I don't think you are baby... I know you want this, we both know it." he smirks, grinding his cock into her clothed cunt. "Your God isn't here sweet girl, there's no need to hide from me." He slides a a hand from her thighs and up her nightgown, slipping under her white panties, he smirks as he rubs circles around her already wet clit.

She whimpers, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. He pulls her away from the wall and lays her on the floor, careful not to harm his new toy.

Was this really something that God allowed in this world? The maker of all things, the Almighty, the Healer? How could he allow such sinful things to harm those who don't deserve it? Jack may not be religious, she knew he wasn't. But to allow this to happen to him? Why? It felt like her chest was collapsing, everything she once believed in crashing down around her, mocking her naive trust and devotion.

Her thoughts swallowed her whole, only snapping out of it when she felt Jack's warm tongue against her pussy, licking a stripe up from her hole and swirling around her clit. She gasps, gripping his hair tightly to ground herself. He laughs menacingly, crawling up her body to look her in the eyes.

"there you are angel, where'd your pretty little mind wonder off to, hm?" he whispers, a cunning grin plastered on his lips.

"W-why are you doing this?" she whines, wanting to push him away, but also not wanting to. She knew this was a sin, this dirty feeling would stain her image in the Lord's eyes forever. Maybe Jack was right, maybe God really isn't there after all.

"I've decided that you're mine, my little angel." he presses a kiss to her temple. "You don't belong to your pathetic God anymore, you're all mine." he growls, trailing back down her body.

Y/n shuts her eyes tight, maybe being his wouldn't be so bad. He hadn't killed her yet, after all.

A soft moan leaves her lips as he ravished her, sucking and licking her pussy like it's the last meal he'll ever have. Her eyes snap open as she feels him slip a finger inside her, it was large, the unfamiliar sting of her insides being stretched open caused tears to prick at her eyes once again. It was painful, but the pleasure soon took over her body as he pumped in and out.

"J-Jack..." she moans, pulling at his hair. The feeling of pleasure was something she had never experienced before. She'd heard stories from her friend's, sure, and she was always curious to know what it felt like, but she knew that it was a sin to partake in any sexual activities before marriage. Her virginity was important to her, It was something that she was excited to give to her future husband. To remain pure and untainted by men. Now, she questioned what that even meant.

She felt disgusting for liking the way he's making her feel. Every throb and wave of pleasure caused her to cringe. As the blissful feeling grew more intense, she cared less. She wanted him to touch her, she wanted him to touch her till she vomited from the violating feeling, it was addicting. She never thought it would be this intoxicating.

She felt strange, the feeling of bliss was becoming unbearable, she didn't understand what was happening. Was she dying, Is this god punishing her for her sin?

"J-Jack I- What's happening?" she pants, trying desperately to squirm away and catch her breath.

"It's alright angel, let it come." Jack cooes, holding her in place by her hips and continuing his attack on her clit. He inserts another finger and laps at her clit, chuckling at her desperate moans and pleas

Her first orgasm hit her light a fright train, she cried out, her body convulsing and grinding into his face. Her back arched, head leaned back as she cried out into the night.

He slowed down after allowing her to ride out her high. He kissed up her body before meeting her face, keeping eye contact as her slipped his fingers into his mouth, licking up all the juices that leaked out of her.

"Shhh, it's alright angel, you're such a good girl" Jack cooes. He reaches down and unbuckles his belt, undoing the button and sliding down the zipper of his jeans. Her eyes lock in his hands, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pulls them down, allowing his large cock to spring up, slapping against his shirt. Her lip begins to quiver, fear begins to take over at the large size of him.

Jack notices as he positions himself between her legs, his leaky tip prodding at her entrance.

"It's alright angel, I'll be gentle, don't worry." he shushes her, reaching up to grip her hips as he presses in. It was beyond painful, her eyes screwed shut as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She wanted to be his. She didn't care about anything else, only him. He was all that mattered to her now.

Tears ran down her temples as he stretched her out, his cock beginning to be coated in the blood of her now torn hymen. When he finally bottomed out, he remained there for a moment, pressing kisses to her tears as he waited for her to adjust to his size.

He eventually started moving, thrusting his cock into her over and over again. She moaned, gripping at his body as he took her all. The pain subsided and she was greeted with that feeling, the feeling of pure bliss that only he could make her feel.

He growled lowly, sucking on her neck until the skin was raw and purple as he thrusted into her. She was tight, it felt like she was milking him for all he had.

"Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good" he groans, increasing his pace.

the intense feeling was returning with every thrust of his cock. He felt so experienced, every way he moved, kissed, touched, it felt like he knew her body like a prayer. She cried out, desperate to feel that feeling again.

"Jack please" she begged, pulling on his hair.

"I know angel, I'll make you cum, just relax. I'm almost there too baby" he groans into her ear, reaching down to rub at her clit.

It finally hit her again, and she cried out, babbling a mix of his name and "oh god yes." he grunted, his own release hitting him. he filled up her tight cunt, a mix of cum and blood drooled out of her hole.

"You're mine, angel. all mine" he growled, and reached up, he yanks the cross off her neck and throws it God knows where on the dirty ground.

#creepypasta x reader #x reader #smut #creepypasta #fanfiction #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader

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threewaywithdelusion · 1 year ago

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Alec Lightwood Not Giving a Single Fuck About the Law

(Spoilers! So many spoilers! For everything except Secrets of Blackthorn Hall, because I haven't read it yet)

I'm not too clear on what the Accords say about Shadowhunters policing Downworlders/what Downworlders are not allowed to do. But I'm pretty sure all of these must be illegal (or at least frowned upon):

Not reporting that Magnus started a joke cult that turned in a real cult that was killing people and worshiping a Greater Demon

Letting the person actually running said evil cult go free after they had captured her because he knew the Clave would execute her and even though Shinyun was literally responsible for several murders, he thought she deserved a second chance (and Magnus related to her, and Alec wanted to spare Magnus pain)

Never reporting Elliott of the New York Vampire Clan for literally everything he has done, including biting several Downworlders at a party, having multiple incidents with faerie fruit, "accidentally" biting 17 mundanes while under the influence (including at least one time where Lily had to stop him from killing the mundane in question), and cheating on two Selkies who then caused property damage in a fight with each other

relatedly, not reporting Mordecai, the faerie fruit dealer

(I just love this entire exchange: "As the current head of the New York Institute," Maryse said, with an attempt at firmness, "if there is illegal Downworlder activity happening, it should be reported to me." "I do not talk to Nephilim about Downworlder business," Lily said severely. The Lightwood parents stared at her, and then swung their heads in sync to stare at their son. Lily waved a dismissed hand in their direction. "Except for Alec, he's a special case.")

Watching Juliette, Werewolf Queen of the Buenos Aires Shadow Market, kill a Shadowhunter and just lightly suggest she try to take the Shadowhunters alive (and then not punish her in any way for killing that one guy)

Not reporting that Ragnor Fell had found a realm for the Greater Demon Sammael and also worked for him for a period of time (I don't think the Clave would care that Ragnor didn't had a choice because of the sventhorn)

Suggested in the final battle in Queen of Air and Darkness that an effective way to render opposing Shadowhunters unconscious would be to have vampires bite them and drink enough of their blood that they passed out

Protecting Marcy, the werewolf who transformed at a club during a full moon, and never reporting her for almost revealing the shadow world to Mundanes and injuring several of them

Breaking the Cold Peace several times by visiting several Shadow Markets, interacting with faeries, and pretending not to know about multiple illegal Shadowhunter-faerie relationships (Tian/Jinfeng and Mark/Kieran/Cristina)

Not illegal but probably seen as outrageous by other Shadowhunters:

marrying Magnus in Shadowhunter gold

traipsing into a hell dimension to save Downworlders

letting a vampire (Simon) drink his blood

offering his blood to a different vampire (Lily)

raising a Downworlder child as his own (and also training that child like a Shadowhunter)

raising a Shadowhunter child that has a Downworlder parent

Basically, Alec Lightwood is a badass and the fact that he went from the type of guy who said "sed lex, dura lex" to the man who did all of this is the reason he is one of my favorite characters ever

#Alec lightwood #alexander lightwood #unless we're using that tag for Cecily's son? someone let me know #the shadowhunter chronicles #the mortal instruments #the eldest curses #Magnus bane

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cobaltperun · 7 months ago

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Lost (28) - Bounce

Tara Carpenter x female Reader

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

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

Word count: 4.5k

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

-Kicked around, cut, stitched and scarred, I'll take the hit but not the fall, I know no fear, still standing tall-

She snuck through the shadows, careful to avoid being detected right away. If she remembered correctly Ghost-Lion was meant to patrol this corridor and then, just around the corner, she would reach the personal area Ghostface used as his meeting room and base of operation. Sure enough, she caught a glimpse of the robes and followed after the man. She needed to be careful not to cut his robes or damage the mask. After all, she needed them.

So, as he began climbing the stairs she ran up to him, put him in a chokehold you taught to her years ago and squeezed as hard as she could.

He grunted, turning and pushing back into the wall, making her almost let go of him, but she held on. She had to. For Tara. For Tara’s sake and safety Sam needed to be stronger than anyone, and so, in a desperate attempt to gain the upper hand when he began pulling her arms away from his neck, she leaned back and let both him and her tumble down the stairs.

~X~

Following Sam’s directions, you opened the doors and came face to face with a gun pointed at you.

“Shit, Y/N, it’s you,” Kirby sighed, lowering her gun.

Your eyes widened when you saw the state everyone was in. Anya was dead, Kirby had blood on her hands and was trying to help another woman out while Tara shakily walked over to you, and you automatically pulled her into your arms. “I’m here now,” you whispered softly, not entirely sure what happened here, but at least Tara was unharmed.

“Sam is trying to sacrifice herself,” Tara cried into your chest, and you had to pull away slightly.

“What?” you whispered, suddenly out of breath, but it made sense. The look on her face, her actions, she was tired of this and it wasn’t the first time she thought her death would solve everything.

But before you or anyone else could say anything you heard the sound of yacht sailing away, prompting you and Tara to run outside.

“Sam!” Tara cried out as the two of you saw the two figures through the windows, both wearing Ghostface masks and there was nothing, absolutely nothing you could do to reach the yacht in time.

“You’re the MMA fighter, right? I have the boat, I can get you on board of that yacht,” the wounded woman said as she stumbled to her feet. You guessed this was Kirby’s mole, as well as the one who got hurt by the Ghostface you and Sam just killed.

“I owe you one,” you nodded. There was no doubt in your heart. One of those two was Sam, and you were going to bring her self-sacrificing ass back to Tara.

“Y/N,” Tara grabbed your hand and you just leaned down to kiss her.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, unlike Sam you had no intention of dying, or leaving Tara to raise your children alone. You knelt in front of her and kissed her belly twice. “I promise.”

“You better,” Tara whispered, letting go of your hand. You could see it in her eyes, though she was afraid, though she was worried for your life, she still had faith in you, she still believed you’d come back safe and with Sam with you.

~X~

She was staring right at her goal, at the end of this curse. She’d end the cult, her own life, and no one would ever target Tara again. She would be free from Billy’s legacy.

The sprained ankle and a couple of cuts on her body she got from fighting Ghost-Lion would be a disadvantage, but she’d push through the pain and finish the man off as quickly as possible. That was, at the very least, what Sam planned to do.

“I didn’t think you’d be the last one standing,” Ghostface told her. “I guess that’s the king of animals for you,” he chuckled a bit.

“Something like that, I guess. What now?” Sam approached him slowly, ready to stab him in the back.

“I’ll just start over, after all, much like killers from the Stab movies, we, as well, are replaceable. Though, this time I’ll start with killing Samantha,” he paused for a moment, looking ahead toward the open sea. “No more dramatic final girls, I’ll just kill her.”

His voice was calm, but Sam could sense the tension in it. Maybe it was just the fact that his entire plan fell apart in one night, or a few days at best, it didn’t really matter. But then she saw the glint of the knife and her eyes widened. He knew.

“I guess loyalty really is dogs’ greatest trait, only you weren’t loyal to me, were you, Samantha Carpenter,” he slashed at her and she just barely dodged being cut open. Instead, the blade cut through the robes and left her with a small cut on her abdomen instead. “Ghost-Lion was taller,” he simply said, continuing his assault as Sam stumbled back, unable to properly regain her footing with her ankle.

She was supposed to catch him off guard, not the other way around, but she still managed to catch his wrist and twist it to get him to drop the knife.

But her sprained ankle and the pain from falling down the stairs proved to be almost insurmountable disadvantage as he managed to lift her up and slam her against the controls, pushing the lever and speeding the yacht up in the process.

Sam gasped as the mask fell off her head and nearly blacked out when he punched her in the face, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. She lifted her leg up and kicked him in the balls, making him stumble back and drop to his knees.

“It’s about time I see who you are,” she didn’t know what to expect. Would it be someone she knew, even just vaguely, or would it be a complete stranger. What she saw made her freeze. The man looked like he was desperately trying to copy Billy Loomis, and in her disoriented state of mind she clutched her head and saw her father instead.

“I gotta say, he sure captured my look,” the monster in her head laughed at the sight and Sam shut her eyes, desperately trying to block the hallucinations out.

That one moment of weakness was enough for Ghostface to grab her and throw her to the floor. Before she could react he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the floor.

“I’m not going to stab you Samantha, I want to feel you die,” he said, an insane and sinister grin on his face told her everything. Her only hope was that the yacht would hit something and push him off her, but she still tried to pry his fingers from her throat.

~X~

The yacht was speeding up and you knew you’d only have one chance to do this.

“These aren’t good odds,” Kirby’s mole told you.

“Tell me about it,” you sighed and got ready to jump and grab onto the fence. “We don’t exactly have other options, go back to the harbor, get that wound properly treated, Sam and I got this!” you told the woman and jumped just barely reaching and clinging to the fence. “Oh, shit!” this definitely wasn’t as easy as regular pull ups, especially with your wounded palm, but you managed to climb over the fence. “All good! Now go!” you yelled and took off. Sam would likely be in the control room or however it was called.

You burst through what looked like important doors and saw Sam struggling to push the man off her as he tried to strangle her. He was no longer wearing his mask, but the robes made it clear he was the cult leader, the Ghostface. The sound of doors slamming against the wall made him look up and it gave Sam enough of an opportunity to push him off and roll away from him as you rushed in, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up.

“Y/N!” Sam coughed, as she tried to regain her breath, but your entire attention was on the man as you slammed an uppercut into his jaw and followed it up by several hooks, each one gaining more momentum as you punched him from one side to another. Blood spilled from his mouth and nose and he stumbled back. You took a deep breath and pulled out a knife and before he could regain his composure you ended his life by slitting his throat.

You took a few deep breaths and turned to Sam. “You okay?” she wasn’t exactly okay, she had a few shallow cuts and her ankle was probably sprained, but she was alive.

Sam nodded, leaning back against the wall and tossing the knife aside. It was finally over. “On a scale from one to ten, how angry at me are you?”

“Nine point as long as Tara wants you in her life it doesn’t matter,” you were angry, but how you felt didn’t matter as much as Tara getting to keep her sister in her life. “But you better make it right for her, and Sam,” you paused, glaring at her. “She can never know you were the one who framed me,” you decided and went over to the levers and all the other things you have never seen in your life. “Right, let’s figure this shit out and just go home.”

Sam didn’t say a word, instead she just took what you said in and waited.

“As worthless as it is, I’m sorry I got you arrested,” she apologized, and you gritted your teeth.

“Just stop talking, Sam,” you really didn’t need reminders of that day.

~X~

Agent Woolf came back alone, without you or Sam, and barely clinging to consciousness as she stumbled out of the boat. Kirby quickly ran over to her and helped her over to where her and Tara were. Tara was happy the woman was still alive, and that she’d likely be fine, but she still worried. You and Sam were taking too long and the yacht was getting further away.

“They’ll be fine, Tara,” Kirby told her, but she was starting to lose hope.

“They better be,” she whispered, and then, just as she said that she saw the yacht turning in the distance and her heart soared. There could only be one reason for that!

A few long minutes later she saw you and Sam coming down from the yacht, and though Sam was limping she didn’t look like her life was in danger.

“Go,” Kirby pushed her lightly as she remained frozen just watching you and Sam coming closer to her. And as if broken out of her trance she just ran, jumping as she reached you and Sam and hugging both of you as tightly as she could.

“Thank goodness!” she cried out kissing you and then burying her face in Sam’s neck. “You asshole! Why would you do this to me?!” she felt her lungs burning as she sobbed.

“Tara I-“ Sam tried to speak.

“Not a word! You hear me! You don’t deserve to apologize, you just, you left me again!” she took a step back and nearly pushed Sam away, but then, through her tears, she took in Sam’s appearance. The sunken cheeks, the lost weight, the few cuts Sam received, as well as the way Sam was limping, and she just wailed and nearly dropped to her knees. She would have, if Sam didn’t reach her in time and pulled her into a hug.

“I missed you so much Tara, I don’t deserve to apologize, but I’m so, so sorry!” Sam was crying as well, clinging to Tara so hard it almost hurt.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to all the time she spent worrying for Sam, all the fear and despair and the need to have her sister back by her side. And she finally had Sam back in her life, and she didn’t ever want to let Sam stay away from her for this long again.

~X~

She didn’t deserve it, but around the beginning of May she walked out of the courtroom with essentially a slap on the wrist. Released on parole because of her efforts to bring the cult down and evidence she gave them that was putting people behind bars. She should have been in prison as well. She should have been punished, but she didn’t get that, she was almost rewarded instead.

Her impulses to kill, to hurt people were overlooked in favor of who she killed and what she brought. And Sam hated herself for that.

Could she ever truly forgive herself for everything that happened? For all the ways she put the people she loved in danger? For all the people she cared about that were dead?

She couldn’t know for sure, but she had her doubts as she approached the police car driven by the woman that was a mole in the cult. Tara would be pissed when she finds out Sam didn’t call her, but she wasn’t certain of the outcome of the trial, she didn’t even tell Tara when it would be. Just in case she was sentenced to years and years in prison, she didn’t want Tara to have to see her being taken away. She’d go and visit her baby sister, and you, though that would be a bit awkward, but she just needed to collect her thoughts. Thankfully, Kirby respected that.

“Congratulations on your freedom,” the woman said as Sam sat down next to her.

“Thanks. Not just for this, for everything you did,” Sam said, it was almost funny how she was yet to learn the woman’s name.

“No need to thank me, I was doing my job,” she replied and began driving Sam away from the court.

“Am I ever going to learn your name?” Sam asked out of the blue.

The woman grinned and turned to Sam when they reached the red light. She offered her hand to Sam and smiled softly. “I am Drew Woolf,” she said.

And so, Sam properly met the lady that was for some time her only ally in the cult.

~X~

It didn’t have anything to do with Ghostface showing up again, Tara and you had the conversation even before she got pregnant. You both wanted to let your kids grow away from the busy streets, to have clean air, or as clean as it could get, and lots of space to play around. No more apartments, no more busy streets. You wanted to settle down, to have complete control over your home. So, you went and purchased a fairly big empty patch of land in Colorado Springs, a short drive away from Pikes Peak and though it took some time, especially since Ghostface thing happened, the house was built and you were finally ready to move in in the middle of July.

You parked your car outside the house. A two-story tall building, fairly large and spacious, with a yet to be filled backyard. But that was a project for another day, or, well, a year, since a lot of your attention would be taken up by the kids that would be born by the end of September.

You got out of the car, smiling at Tara and winking, silently telling her to stay in her seat as you went around and opened the doors for her.

“My lady, your hand please,” you bowed slightly, offering Tara your hand, and she laughed, accepting your joking gesture.

“It looks good from the outside,” she said, the house looked secure, and, because you had to be careful, there were motion sensor cameras around the house already installed. “Secure,” she smiled as you hugged her from behind, your hands resting on her belly.

“We’ll be fine,” you whispered, kissing her cheek and smiling when you felt one of the twins kicking. They were active babies, and if anyone asked you Tara looked incredible.

“Mhm, let’s go inside,” she leaned back against you for a moment and then took your hand and pulled you along. The basement was elevated, and only four feet of it were beneath the ground, for one reason. The gym. You separated the basement into two parts, a garage for your car and an empty space if Tara ever decided she wanted one as well, and then there was a still empty separated part that was meant to be used as your gym. For the sake of convenience, the gym had a small bathroom, just in case you wanted to take a quick shower, or simply wash your hands before going upstairs. The gym was also connected to the first floor via indoor stairs. Tara led you up, to a spacious living room, that doubled as a mini library of books and movies and all the things you and Tara learnt to enjoy over the years, your gaming console included, a very nice kitchen and dining room. There was also the hall leading to the main entrance and the stairs that led to the second floor where you had five rooms, one of which was designated as home office for you and Tara.

Overall, it was a big house, maybe even a bit too big for your soon to be family of four, but you wanted a room for each of the kids, and your own room and a guestroom so, that was the logic behind the number of rooms on the second floor.

Tara kissed you on the lips when you finally sat down on your bed. “It’s perfect,” she whispered against your lips before she pushed you to lie down and straddled you, a mischievous smile on her face.

~X~

September was coming to a close, as was Tara’s pregnancy, and one slow night you were just lazing around in the living room, watching some TV show. Tara had to leave you for a few minutes, so you just scrolled trough the news until she came back.

“You know, this is at least partly your fault,” Tara groaned as she sat down next to you. She’d give birth any day now, so you were both extra careful and always ready to drive to the hospital if the kids decided to rush things.

You gently lifted her feet up to the sofa and took her socks off. Giving Tara a massage became a bit of a habit, and she repeatedly showed you how much she appreciated your efforts. “How so?” you humored her as you began rubbing her left foot. It became her go-to joke lately, a tiny tease and complain do to all the extra weight she was carrying around.

“How? You got me pregnant,” she nudged you jokingly with her right foot.

You grinned at that. “Mhm, my strap can do anything,” you chuckled when Tara jerked slightly. You accidentally tickled her, and her feet were ridiculously ticklish.

She sighed contently. “Wouldn’t that be nice, no medical procedures and all that,” she placed her hand on her belly. “I can’t wait to meet them,” she said, smiling widely all of a sudden. “They are kicking more often. Tiny MMA fighters,” she chuckled as you laughed.

You reached over, placing your hand next to hers. Soon, soon your children would be born and it would no longer be just you and Tara, it would be four of you.

“Y/N,” she spoke softly, almost timidly and you looked into her eyes.

“Yeah?” you instinctively moved to hold her hand.

“What if they end up having asthma?” she asked.

Your eyes softened. It wasn’t asthma itself Tara was worried about. She knew both of you would take care of your children and love them regardless of their health. It was the idea of the children, or even one of the kids inheriting something she had, in her eyes passing down her asthma felt like hurting them.

You opened your mouth but closed them in order to properly phrase your answer. “If they do, they’ll have us to teach them how to live without it affecting them too much,” you remembered sleepless nights with Tara when you were kids, you remembered how worried you were, how much she would struggle to breathe during the worst nights, no matter what you did. You remembered how weak and delirious from the sickness she would be, how she would end up being so exhausted she often wouldn’t remember everything.

~X~

One such time was shortly after Tara turned seventeen, a few days after Christmas. You came back from a fight to find her just about ready to pass out at your doorstep, she was just sitting in the hall, barely conscious when you climbed up the stairs of the apartment building.

“Shit! Tara!” you rushed to her side and picked her up off the floor. “You’re burning up, damn it why didn’t you call me?” you managed to unlock your doors and quickly put her in your bed, sitting her up and letting her lean against the propped-up pillow. You were gone for one day and this happened. You knew her mother wasn’t at home, the damn drunk, but Tara didn’t even tell you she was sick, and this wasn’t how she should be after only one day.

“Fight. You were busy,” she mumbled, pulling your blanket over her body.

You turned the heating on and poured water into the kettle. “You know I would have thrown the fight if I knew,” you would scold her later, once she recovered, for now you were looking for medicine that could help her. You had a bunch of medicine thanks to Tara’s frail health. “Right, temperature first,” you fussed over her like you usually did when she was sick. “I should really take you to the doctor,” but she wouldn’t listen to you.

“You’re all I need,” she muttered. Doctors were expensive and she made you swear you wouldn’t take her to the hospital and pay for the bills a long time ago because she knew you’d pay if you took her there. You did do that once, about two years ago, and Tara still complained about that every now and then. She tried to pay you back, but you wouldn’t budge.

“Tara,” you sighed, respecting her wishes for now, but if she didn’t get better by the morning you’d actually take her to the hospital, promises be damned.

“Just come here,” she sat up and you knew what she wanted, so you got behind her and reached out for the pillow, only for Tara to place her hand over yours. “Skip it, please,” she just lied down on your chest and, though she coughed afterwards, took a deep breath. “I love you, you know? I wanna spend the rest of my life with you,” she said in her exhaustion, and you just held her.

“I love you too, you dumbass,” you whispered, your heart breaking when she got hit with another coughing fit and all you could do was hold her and rub her back.

Tara was better tomorrow morning, her temperature dropped as the night went on and she woke up in the bed alone around noon. That’s how exhausted she was.

“Hey, sleepy head, how are you feeling?” you sat down on the bed with the glass of water and her medicine in hand.

Tara leaned her head back, groaning a bit. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she apologized and winced when the sudden movement made her dizzy.

“Apology accepted if you’re apologizing for not telling me you were sick,” you sighed, waiting for her to properly wake up.

“You know what I mean,” she mumbled, and you knew, unfortunately, you knew. She was apologizing for relying on you again. Finally, she accepted the medicine and leaned back once again, she was still a bit weak, so she needed to rest. “I hate being sick, I can’t separate what’s real and what’s a fever dream,” she complained as you got up to make her a breakfast. “Like, last night I dreamt you, you know what, never mind, it’s too embarrassing,” her face was red, and you assumed sickness was only partly to blame.

~X~

You never found out what her fever dreams were. It didn’t matter now. You moved from the end of the sofa and hugged Tara from behind. You kissed the top of her head and pulled her close to you. “Whatever happens, whether they are healthy or not, we’ll be there for them every step of the way,” you whispered, absolutely certain of your words.

“I know,” Tara nodded, turning her head to kiss you. “My Love,” she rested her head against your chest and listened to your heartbeat.

~X~

A few days later it was happening! It happened! It…

You were about to pass out, you weren’t ready for this! You held Tara through her labor as much as she held you and you nearly fainted when you heard the first baby, a boy, crying at exactly fourteen minutes after two a.m. only for the second one, this time a girl, to come out twenty-three minutes later.

“Congratulations! You got a boy and a girl!” the midwives brought the two babies and gave them to Tara as she was resting, and you couldn’t help but cry as you watched the two bundles of joy.

“You two really are tiny,” she whispered, bringing them closer and carefully hugging them.

Could you touch them? You were an MMA fighter, you were used to violence, not babies that were born less than an hour ago!

“Hey, come here,” Tara whispered, exhaustion vanished from her eyes the moment she got to hold them, and you swallowed the lump in your throat and reached over to touch them.

“I…” you couldn’t say anything, you were completely speechless.

“I know,” Tara smiled, she could feel the tremble of your hands on her own, as you chose to place them there just in case. “I thought of names.”

“I’m fine with any names you want,” you quickly told her, only now realizing you didn’t really have this conversation.

“How about Zack and Susan?”

You just froze and looked at Tara, honestly unable to process all the emotions you were feeling, so, instead, you just nodded, leaning over to quickly kiss her on the lips to hopefully convey even the smallest bit of what you were feeling.

Story masterlist / First part / Previous part / Next part

Taglist: @alexkolax

#tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x female reader #scream #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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enihk-writes · 7 months ago

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Question, are you okay with writing about yandere? Bcs if yes, I genuinely need ur thoughts on CM as one :3

So, I've been reading the novel (ngl, the manhwa's pace is concerning) and I have begun to notice how determined and obsessive of a person he can be—per se in helping the sect to grow, killing the demon cult members, etc. How loyal and faithful he is—to the sect and his sahyung, specifically. How easily attached is he to the right person—like with the new mount hua sect, the gang ofc. And many more, JUST, like, I had the realization how much potential he has as a yandere and it got me tweaking (ofc, I do not mean to downplay CM's character just like that, he is an amazing guy with flaws, and charm, pls don't come at me)

If not, then please ignore this ask, thank you for listening to my rant <333

(!!) this is a reader self-insert discussion

nah because you got me tweaking as well like this guy has the ingredients to be a classic yandere,, i think everyone's favourite hc is that jang ilso is an extremely possessive yandere and cm is kinda like that except that he's got more "social awareness" courtesy to chung mun which makes him reel in his unsavoury behaviours...

i imagine that he's always been very protective over what he deemed as his — his family, his home, his friends and if there were anything that came along to threaten that normalcy, he would never just stand by to let it happen.

which might have lead to him being so casually cruel with the ones he deem as the "outsider" or the ones who would not help his people. i.e. the demonic cult, the sapa, the other sects and organisations that watched mount hua fall...

when a man who's already this obsessive on the daily towards his platonic relationships, can you imagine how it's going to be like when he falls in love with someone???

in my canon, cm and tb definitely fell for each other like idk abt yall but their old man yaoi was so real to me.... and cm stuck by tb's side alot even though cm never really confirmed nor denied his feelings for tb, because he kept thinking that they still had so much time left until they didn't...

(x reader) content beyond this point

in his 2nd life, he went about determined to never fall in love with anyone ever again but when he does inevitably fall for someone new, cm decided that he won't make the same mistake twice. he doesn't waste his time and lets you know right then that he likes you. whether or not you accept his confession doesn't matter — he would still treat you the same like everyone else. except that i think that he's going to be so much harder on you compared to the rest during training.

his logic here is:

train you to be the strongest you can be > higher chance of survival > can stay by his side for a much longer time

he won't be kind, he won't coddle you either and it's to the point where if you and him were together, you'd begin to wonder if he even likes you at all.

the one time you asked him to take it easy on you, that you were almost at your limit for the day... and he said no... and it pissed you off so much that all the frustration piling up quietly within your heart poured out through tears and you asked if he's ever loved you.

cm is stunned, but only for a moment before he says that he does; so stop being ridiculous and pull yourself together.

none of that soothed you so you ask him why he's so mean to you? and cm finally snapped, you're not making sense to him — he thinks that what he's doing is the best thing he could do for you, and if you can't keep up, maybe you should quit being a disciple and just live as a civilian. and because you can't fight anymore he should move you in with him. you two could play house as much as you wanted in a place that only he knew about, under his watchful eye you would never get hurt and you both would get what you both want... is this the life you are asking him to give you?

what were you supposed to say to that? if that was his way of showing his love for you, then it wasn't the type of love you'd want. you had to get away somehow... but we're talking about one of the strongest swordsman in the jiangshu... how were you?

you tried, to your credit, like a fish in a net — but cm is smart, he figures out what you need and always strives to fulfill them all, that way you can't say you're leaving him because he can't give you what you want.

in the end, you'll be so tired out that you let him do whatever he desires, much to cm's delight. the experience had taught him how to be more considerate towards his lover, and he thanks you with unwanted kisses in a show of unfiltered affection.

finally... finally you were going to stay here with him for good.

#eni's small talk corner #rotbb #rotmhs #return of the mount hua sect x reader #return of the blossoming blade x reader #chung myung x reader #cheong myeong x reader #this is so crazyy i wrote it all in one sitting at work....

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starhvney · 12 days ago

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𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝟏𝟓: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐖: violence, torture, abuse, blood, sleep paralysis, cult vibes? umm yeah just bad stuff all around generally

𝐀/𝐍: um so like um

𝐖𝐂: 3,300+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: @arienic (shoutout for the ending lines this chapter, you killed that fr)

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

it’s so cold.

the thin, poor excuse of a blanket barely helped you, nor did the ripped-up hospital clothes now crusted in dried blood. no wounds lay underneath the tears of fabric.

at least, not anymore.

the cell room has no windows, but even if you had the privilege of seeing the setting sun, you’re unsure if you'd be able to tell what day it was—let alone for how many you’d been in this hell.

every day it was the same cycle. wake up cold, hungry, smeared in blood, and still aching from whatever torture elizabeth had done to you the day before. if you weren’t passing out from the pain, you’d be sedated before getting returned to your cell again, blurring your sense of time and even fogging your memories of what you’d endured just hours before.

footsteps echo down distant wooden stairs, each creak in the old wood making you flinch involuntarily. those steps are down the hall from the opposite side of where you were taken every day, and you have a feeling that’s the way to get out.

you must be in the basement of some… house. somewhere close to the campsite that the ro’meaves owned. where you’d just been with everyone. garroth… aphmau… vylad… laurance… zane…

and katelyn.

you wonder what she’d think, knowing what kind of person her mother was. you never asked katelyn if she remembered her mom much, but you’re sure she never understood the amount of evil the woman who gave her life was capable of doing. she looks just like her.

a few times in your state of delirium you’d almost thought it was katelyn. when your vision blurred you nearly wanted to reach out, hoping it was the girl waking you up from your nightmare and telling you it was all a dream. but the amount of pain you felt could never be a dream. even as you lay here, the ghost of your previous injuries remain, sending sudden shocks through your nerves even when you stay perfectly still.

…you should be near the camp if that’s what elizabeth really said. it’s hard to remember.

the footsteps have come considerably closer until they stop right outside the bars of your door. you aren’t scared just yet. those steps sounded like the boy’s, and he hadn’t been the one hurting you. likely, he was here to give you some food and leave before elizabeth was ready for you again, like he’d been doing every time you woke up.

cracking your eyes open, you’re surprised to hear the sound of fabric sliding under the door and not a plastic tray.

“no food?”

“…no, not this time.”

you stare at him through blurred vision, trying to focus on his eyes. he turns his head away and ducks it, as if in shame. you're not sure if you'll stomach the food well, but it always made you feel a little warmer—in fact, it did better than the crappy old hospital bed they gave you. every time you woke up, your blood felt like it was barely flowing through you, as if your body had only just been able to fight off death.

it’s likely, considering how much blood you lost with every “experiment” that was conducted on you. you’re unsure how this forever potion worked, but you can only assume your body was working overtime to regenerate and seal up your wounds, regardless.

what is a young boy like him doing with these people? he never seems to enjoy being around you, and especially not in that lab. was he a subject, too? but why would he be allowed to walk free? was it stockholm?

“why are you here with them?”

his eyes dart behind him before his voice comes in a muttered whisper–one you could just barely catch even in the eerie silence of the building.

“i have nowhere else to go.”

“…sorry,” is all you manage to croak out before your eyes drift back down to the floor. “not even water, huh?”

he pauses, before shaking his head. there’s a small clinking noise as he does so, and you realize from a glint near his ears that it’s because of his piercings.

“…sorry, i can’t talk to you.”

turning on his heel, he rushes back down the hall. his footsteps quickly recede to where he came from up the wooden steps, leaving you alone in the cold stone room.

…

you miss everyone.

were they looking for you? were they worried? did they think you were dead?

you might as well be.

dropping your eyes, they land on the crumpled clothes he’d slid through the bars. it looked like the same, scratchy fabric of the clothes you were wearing now, but its color was the same, pure white color that the ones on you used to be. they hardly looked like the same outfit at all—the fabric was stained in different shades of blood, some darker from getting stained, and then soaked again with a fresher layer. elizabeth must have decided they were unrecognizable enough to be replaced. or she might’ve just felt disgusted at how filthy you’d become.

the thin mattress squeaks as you manage to sit up, though your muscles protest from the action. they hadn’t been doing much work since you’ve been here–most of your moving from place to place was from force or being dragged around like a limp ragdoll. despite this, it felt like your body had been continuously running for hours and hours every day, muscles fighting overtime to keep you alive. hell, every system in your body was fighting for you to stay alive.

wasn’t it ironic? that the reason for your torturous pain that made you want to give up was the very thing keeping you alive?

sliding your feet to the door you pick the clothes up, standing and swaying in place before ripping off your old rags and sliding them on. despite the fabric being the same as before, it feels decently soft on your skin. it was much better than the crusted and stiff bloody fabric you’d been forced to stay in.

bunching up the old pair you shove it back out the bars, using as much force as you can to get it to the other side in a pitiful attempt at rebellion. it drops to the ground in a less-than-pathetic show of your current strength just a foot away. you stare at it through your puffy eyelids.

the clicking of heels echoes through the hall, making your muscles clench and stiffen. you don’t move, like a deer petrified in headlights, eyes trained on your bloody clothes on the other side of the bars.

“hm. you’re awake,” elizabeth notes, her clean and polished shoes stopping just in your sight. a moment passes before she clicks her tongue in disgust, stepping over the crusted fabric to open the door. “i won’t sedate you this time, but i wouldn’t make the mistake of trying to fight or run. just walk.”

slowly, you look up at her.

just walk? walk to the place where you’d be tortured? walk to your personally designed hell? you’d rather be sedated. it’s like she subtly enjoyed these moments of power. of making you feel helpless.

all you feel is hatred. hate for the woman in front of you. you want to leap across this cell and wrap your fingers around her throat.

but then you see her. katelyn, staring at you. sitting across from you in class. practicing on the volleyball court. laughing in aphmau’s room. she wasn’t anything like this woman. no. she has no similarities.

but for that split moment, you see her, and it’s enough to kill the fight that was brewing in your chest.

you step out of the cell, and realize that this was the first time you’d been conscious and aware outside of your cell in… however long you’d been here. the stone under your feet feels cold, like icicles uncomfortable pricking the bottom of your feet with every step. next to your cells you see there’s more just like it, with numbers and unclear pictures on them.

2… 1…

you glance back, noticing there are a few more beyond the other side of your cell.

…4? 5? 6?

your face pales and you freeze by the lab doors when you look up at cell one.

beside the number was a picture of a young boy, not possibly older than five. it was dim, but you could see him. blonde hair. blue eyes. a bright little smile. he looks identical to the little boy in that childhood photo hanging in the salome’s stairway.

“how is the ro’meave boy?”

turning your head, you clench your jaw as you stare up at the woman.

“fuck. you.”

there’s no reaction, just a small disapproving hum as she opens the door, expectantly looking for you to walk in.

daring you to not.

you don’t remember what happens after you step in there.

it’s dark when you wake up again. well, “wake up” is too vague. it’s dark when you’re fully conscious of yourself once again. you remember through a haze the pain you had been put through once again, but this time you don’t remember what exactly it was that she did to you. actually, you can’t even remember anything that’s happened anymore. the only memories that you recall are tainted with a hazy fog, one you cannot sweep away no matter how much you attempt to focus on it.

you feel so cold.

it must be the middle of the night, which explains why you could only see shadows and silhouettes. it’s now been a few times you’ve woken up like this, this poor excuse of a bed not exactly very comforting. you’d just have to fix your blanket and…

it feels like a cold rush of water has been dumped over your body. this must just be because you were exhausted.

staring at the dark lines where your cell bars are lined against the hall, you attempt to move your fingers again.

nothing.

you can’t move anything. not your legs. not your arms. not even your head.

this isn’t real. you aren’t awake. there’s no way.

what is that?

from the corner of your vision, you see a figure. tall. its head seemed to reach the tall ceiling. it was close to you, pressed into the corner as it stared. you couldn’t see its eyes or even its face. but you could feel it. your skin prickled uncomfortably, sweat cold against your face. trying to swallow your fear you attempt to turn your head, only to feel like an otherworldly force was pushing you back, keeping you in place. your vision prickles with black and your face feels colder—and over the loud thudding of your heartbeat, you can hear it breathing. it’s closer.

before your vision returns, you snap your eyes shut.

is this real? did a demon manifest in this dark place and come to feast on the pathetic remains of what you had left?

everything goes quiet.

even if you could move right now, you think fear would keep you frozen instead. do you dare try to see what it was? you know it hasn’t moved. you know it’s right there.

a deep voice encroaches on your ears, sending another spike of terror into your blood. a croak of your name, the syllables uttered in a way that was reminiscent of someone’s last breath. the last rattle of death calling for you in the dark.

you dare, and through your lashes, you see a shadow leaning over you, two long horns spiraling out from its cloaked head. immediately you close your eyes again.

“don’t worry, child. i don’t need you dead just yet,” he whispers, breath unpleasant against your ear. “you were chosen by her. so i know your purpose for me extends far greater into the future.”

you still can’t move. all you can do is close your eyes and wish to go back to sleep.

long, wicked, and skeletal fingers rake into your hair like a beast playing with its prey. “oh, how i’ll enjoy taking away everything irene ever loved. and i can start from a real incarnation.”

it doesn’t talk to you again.

☆

cold metal presses against your arms and legs. rough leather squeezes uncomfortably against your wrists.

“ein… i said…!” there’s a harsh slap against skin. it’s muffled in your right ear like you’d heard it through a veil of cotton. “...she’s waking… do it… now!”

your eyes crack open. elizabeth is walking back to her computer screen, scribbling down on her clipboard and typing against the slim keyboard in front of her. ein frowns as he hovers over your right side, fiddling with your arm. looking down you see the iv line that has already been hooked into your veins, and ein’s shaking fingers as he hooks up the drip.

you still can’t feel your body.

flicking your eyes back up, you freeze when you see lifeless gray already glaring back at you. the circles under his eyes are deep, and a blotchy red mark shows across his right cheek. for a few moments you’re both stuck there, staring at the other like two cattle in a slaughter pen.

ein flinches when the monotonous typing on the keyboard pauses and elizabeth shifts on her feet, his ears flattening against his head as he stiffens to stand straight again.

“are you done?” she calls, not turning to look at the two of you.

he swallows thickly, staring down at you with a conflicted expression. “...yes.”

“then you may go.”

there’s a moment of hesitation before he runs over to the door, slipping through without another word and leaving you alone with her.

“no need to worry,” she says before you can pull together a thought. “i’m giving you a break today. at least from the more painful experiments. it was an order, so my words are genuine.”

spinning on her heel, she paces over to you, dragging a barstool against the tiles until she can seat herself directly in front of you.

“why can’t i feel anything?” you croak, voice weak.

“well, i’ve just come to the conclusion that depriving your body of its daily nutrient intake slows your healing abilities. it’s likely your nerves are still reconnecting after i amputated your limbs,” she explains, looking down at your arm and grasping it between her pale fingers, pulling it up for observation. “hm. i seemed to have gotten too eager. you may even suffer a few scars. ah, and your hair will seem to grow back at a normal pace. no wonder this ability of yours went so unnoticed for so long.”

“...what?”

her head tilts as she looks back up at you, cold eyes narrowing as she continues to rant at you like you were some sort of disappointing science experiment. “your nails grew back normally, however. so it only focuses on patching active wounds. more than likely your hair and nail growth will be stunted for a while. your body is fully and actively in survival mode. fascinating.”

“shut the fuck up,” you snap, making elizabeth’s eyes pull back to you.

she may be incapable of smiling, but her eyes seem to dance with a slight amount of amusement as she observes you. it’s startling, and you can’t tell if you’ve made her mad or not. you should’ve said nothing.

“i’m awfully curious about your friends,” she says, eyes boring into yours. you have the urge to throw up. “you won’t even tell me a bit about my own daughter?”

the way she talks is so void of emotion. almost mechanical.

“who do you work for?” your voice is quieter than you'd intended.

“the snake-eyed man.” hers is full of conviction.

it’s the first time you think she hasn’t danced around a full answer with you before, but it’s not the least bit comforting. despite having never heard the name before, it still sends a cold shiver up your spine, a similar cold sweat building up on the back of your neck like last night. or… a few nights ago?

“...why me?”

“that’s quite a helpless look on your face.” she folds one of her legs over the other. “we have just one more experiment left, and i doubt you’ll remember it. so i’ll just go ahead and tell you.”

your breaths still.

“it was all him. the snake-eyed man. he was the one who orchestrated all of this. for a greater cause. something i wouldn’t expect you to comprehend,” she starts. the way she’s beginning to speak almost seems… erratic. “your parents–and the others, including my late husband–were under the impression their efforts in creating the forever potions and all of these experiments would help heal people. that it was for the greater good. it is, of course. just not in the way they thought.”

she stands, fingers trailing along the counter as she paces the lab. “i found you to be the most promising. but michael insisted it had to be his bloodline.”

you swallow. she wasn’t making any sense anymore. you flinch when she whips her head back to you. her face is still stern, but there’s a wildness in her eyes.

“you were my most successful patient. but once that dad of yours found out, all hell broke loose here. he even got garte and derek involved. i didn’t think they had it in them, but i was quickly proven wrong. especially with those lycans. they ripped you from my hands before i got a chance to prove myself!” she slams her hand on the lab table, the sound of metallic tools clattering along the surface as she does. “i sacrificed everything just for them to steal my work away before i had anything worthwhile!”

the room goes eerily quiet as she turns to the wall behind her, leaving her back to you as she takes a deep breath.

“excuse my anger. i’m sure you understand my frustration,” she says, voice cooled and calculated again as she reaches up, pulling a large blade off the wall. “granted, i didn’t have permission to take you. but your parents were never smart enough to understand your potential. none of them were seeing the bigger picture.”

your heart sinks, and there’s nothing you can do but stare helplessly at the sharp, glinting edge in her hands as she turns around again. why can’t you just move already?

“i’ll let you go early if you tell me about the others,” she says, each click of her heel on the tile sending cold blood through your veins. “if not, then i’ll do us both the favor of cutting this conversation short.”

steady hands raise the sword to your neck, leveling evenly against your jugular. your own hands shake.

"please," you beg quietly, lip trembling. you look up to meet her eyes and you search: for mercy. for compassion. for remorse or regret; any small amount of guilt. "please, i -- i can't. please don't. please."

but she's focused only on your neck. and not a waver to her voice or hands as she grips the hilt tighter and tells you, "it'll just be a pinch.”

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807

#aphmau mystreet #mystreet x reader #mystreet #aphmau #x reader #phoenix drop high #aphmau pdh #pdh #reader insert #fem reader #aphblr #ein aphmau #pdh ein #elizabeth aphmau

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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 6 months ago

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Hey

Want to know your opinion, how would you improve some arcs of toh characters, like Amity, Hunter, Lilith, Willow, Gus and probably anyone whose arcs you think are bad-written?

good question! let's see,

luz: i have mostly no complaints about her character but i wish they made it clear that her running off to the boiling isles was not ideal. i don't entirely blame her because she was a child and she was looking for a way to avoid going to camp, but the show starts off implying that luz's escapism was a bad thing, but then they kinda contradict that in the end, by letting her have access to the boiling isles forever.

also her s3 arc with her palisman was just overall poorly written. it was supposed to be an emotional and wholesome moment but it didn't have that impact on me. if luz's greatest wish was to be understood, they should have built on that more. i mean, it's not like no one understood her, all of her friends and found family in the boiling isles seem to understand and empathize with her. it just felt like the writers pulled this revelation out of their asses, and the fact that stringbean was inexplicably a shapeshifter didn't help their case.

amity: i would keep some parts of her initial characterization, like her ambitious nature and her resting bitch face energy. even if the idea was to make amity grow into a more cheerful person, it doesn't make sense that it happened so quickly. imo her characterization was at its best when she was warming up to luz but not entirely nice to other people (like during the grom episode). i really liked her cold, standoffish behaviour and i think it would have been nice if she had kept some of that, while still being a better person than she was in the beginning.

also, like i said in another post, she should definitely have goals of her own. her character shouldn't have been reduced to "luz's girlfriend". i would definitely show more of her interacting with the other characters (and these interactions and conversations aren't about luz) and pursuing her own dreams. i think steven universe did this best where connie liked steven a lot and she did hang out with him, but she also had her own life and her own dreams to chase.

hunter: i wouldn't put him in a relationship with willow, or anyone, for that matter. the poor boy has a lot of trauma he needs to work through and based on the stuff that he's said, it's clear that he doesn't know how healthy human interactions work, let alone a romantic relationship.

i would make his arc about slowly healing through his trauma or at least being able to express his emotions, instead of suppressing them for willow's sake. i think it could have been done, despite the time crunch. he needed time to grieve flapjack, to grieve himself after being possessed and almost killed by his abuser, and to slowly start his healing journey.

the others would definitely support him through it, but that's what he needs at the time, not a badass girlfriend.

lilith: i think her redemption arc started off okay but then everyone forgave her too quickly. it wasn't as bad as catra's because lilith did put a little effort into trying to be better, but she still needed to do more before she could have been forgiven.

so either i would extent her redemption arc and let the other characters, especially eda, stay mad at her a little longer before she gets forgiven. or i would just keep her as an antagonist.

they didn't even explore her trauma of being in a cult and the emperor's coven never chased her down after she left. not to mention, her experience of being in the emperor's coven is never relevant to the plot. she could have given luz inside information or talked about belos' potential weaknesses, it was such a missed opportunity.

willow: her arc with amity was not terrible and i like that she was allowed to take her time to trust amity. this is more about amity than willow but i think it would have been nice if we saw amity making more efforts to gain willow's trust. her apology in understanding willow was good but they kinda glossed over the fact that amity wasn't just "letting her friends bully willow", she was also bullying willow.

i think we needed more of willow and amity trying to mend their friendship, instead of lumity being the main focus after that one episode.

and in general, willow deserved a bigger role in the series. for the longest time, she was just luz's friend and then they forced her into a relationship with hunter, which did not work at all.

if her intended arc was to work on her insecurities and get more confident over time, they should have shown more of that process. even Any Sport In A Storm was mostly about huntlow (and hunter, to some extent) then willow. and let's be honest, the whole "half a witch" thing was dragged out more than it needed to be.

gus: okay, buckle up because i think i have the most grievances with gus. i need to make this clear. GUS WAS SO UNDERUSED.

i'm sorry. this guy is a child prodigy who can create illusions and use illusion spells to look into people's minds and force them to relive their worst memories?? why was this not more relevant to the plot? gus is such an insanely skilled witch and yet he's always pushed to the back for some reason. he has the most versatile and useful skillset but he never gets to use it, it makes me so mad!

even him looking into belos' mind was only used for that brief moment where he admits that he knew hunter was a grimwalker, but didn't want to force hunter to talk about it. that's it. we get no further conversation about it, gus never addresses the other stuff he saw in belos' memories like him MURDERING his brother and creating all the grimwalkers and god knows what else??

also just the fact that he's able to psychologically torment people with illusions is such an OP move that the series just kinda glossed over. it was used in a few episodes, but it could have been used to a greater extent. i just think that gus could have been such an interesting and powerful character, if he was given enough spotlight.

he also had a good thing going with mattholomule but instead of making that canon, they went for huntlow. i'm not saying that gus has to be in a relationship (or any of them, for that matter) but why create a new rushed ship when you already have a perfectly good one to work with?

i also find it weird that gus and willow were supposedly best friends but we got very few moments between them. i would have loved to see more of their friendship, and more focus on platonic relationships in general.

so yeah, if i were to rewrite gus, i would definitely give him a lot more spotlight. heck, given his powerset, he has the potential to be the main character even!

belos: i've mentioned it a lot before but belos deserved a more climatic end to his arc. all of the implications of religious trauma and puritan culture was thrown in the trash in s3.

he was actually such a compelling villain, genuinely intimidating and with an interesting motive and backstory. what was the point of crafting such an interesting character, just to be like "lol he's evil murder his ass"?

i'm not even mad that he died, i'm just mad that THAT'S how he died. i was expecting his death to be something ironic and self-inflicted, like the people from the human realm being horrified by him and killing him. maybe even burning him to death, the same way witches were burned at the stake. buuuut no, we get king, raine and eda stomping on his corpse because haha that's funny. hunter didn't even get to be a part of all this, and he was the one who deserved closure, he was the one who deserved to see his abuser face consequences of their actions, not fucking eda and raine.

and that part where he tries to convince luz that he was just under a terrible curse was just.. so childish. and not in-character childish, but just childish writing. it was just so ooc for belos, he is a manipulator but this wasn't how he manipulated people. i guess you could argue that he was just too desperate to survive but eh. i think it could have been written better.

eda: i don't have too many complaints here, i think she was probably the most well-rounded and compelling character in this show. her arc about the owl curse was interesting and very relatable to me, as someone who is epileptic. her relationship with raine was the best in the series imo.

the only thing i would change is, as I mentioned earlier, i wouldn't make eda forgive lilith so easily. i also think that she kind of lost her "morally grey parental figure" edge by the end of the series, and i honestly liked that part of her a lot, so i would keep it. but that's just a personal preference.

raine: they were definitely a very interesting character, i just think they deserved more screentime. most of their role in the story was surrounding their relationship with eda, which was very compelling, but we could have gotten more of their character outside their relationship.

the members of the emperor's coven, as a whole, could have been used better in the series. but for a side character with medium relevance to the plot, i'd say raine was written pretty well.

#god this turned out longer than i expected #long post #toh critical #toh criticism #toh salt #toh discourse #anti toh #bad writing #writing critique #ask

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livingtobethevillain · 12 days ago

Text

Hello everyone! As some of you know I made this post a couple days ago. And surprise surprise I decided to actually write it!!

Introducing "Mosaic Madness" by CainsFandomChaos on Ao3

Link here

Enjoy!

JJ hums to himself while seated upon the cafe bar stool. It was purposefully slid up as high as possible so his legs could kick back and forth under him. His knees strain with the force of his kicks but he pays it no mind. He sways and mutters to himself and fiddles with the loaded gun in his left hand, his sickeningly sweet frozen coffee in the other. JJ takes a loud sip and giggles at how the barista behind the counter flinches.

Suddenly the cafe door is kicked open, the dainty bell all but being ripped out of the doorframe and the wall having a hole punched into it by the door handle. JJ perks up with a grin that split his entire face open.

“Bear!” JJ tosses the drink somewhere behind him, ignoring the tell-tale sound of coffee slapping against the floor and the wounded sound coming from the underpaid worker still frozen behind the counter.

The boy in the door frame grins right back at JJ and spreads his arms just in time for JJ to throw himself into him.

“JJ, How’re you doing, love?” Bernard said, his voice soft and if you listened closely you could hear what sounded like static and echoing applause woven in between every word.

“I’m doin’ great Angel!” JJ squeezed Bernard, planting a warm kiss on his cheek.

“Was just finishing off some coffee when you made your entrance.” JJ laughed.

Bernard sighed exaggeratedly if only to hear JJ laugh some more at his dramatics. “Baby, I’ve told you that you need to cut back on caffeine. At this point I think shooting heroin into your veins would be healthier.”

“Aw, we can do that later, I promise.” JJ pulled away from Bernard's embrace briefly with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He was soon pulled back into Bernard's crushing embrace.

“I pull away first.” Bernard stated calmly, covering JJ’s body like a dragon would hover over his hoard.

JJ hummed unbothered, he knew better than anyone that after the cult Bernard needed as much painless touch as possible.

“Right, sorry about that Bear! Y’know my memory is-” he wiggles the gun still in his hand. “Shot.” JJ laughs loudly before whipping his head to the side. The barista freezes.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit jumpy?” The Barista shakes his head slowly.

“I mean you’re acting like I’ve pointed a gun at you!” JJ pouts.

“You have pointed a gun at them, darling.” Bernard says fondly with a final borderline suffocating squeeze to JJ’s torso. He pulls away and leans against the counter with an adoring expression.

JJ groans, within the span of a second the gun disappears into one of his many pockets. He wraps his arm around Bernards and Bernard lets him drag him out the door.

“Let me correct myself then, they're acting like I’ve shot them. And I haven't! I mean I almost did, cause it’s funny seeing just how much red can squirt out of a singular gunshot wound–did you know that the average adult has a bit more than a gallon of red in their body?--but then they offered me a frappe and I couldn't kill them then! That just wouldn’t make sense.” JJ rambles, wildly gesturing with his hands.

Bernard nods in agreement. “Plus that’s not the kind of story the author is going for. All things considered this story is meant to be pretty cute.” Bernard offers helpfully.

JJ laughs. “Oh I love when you break the fourth wall,” he coos, Bernard grins with what might seem like too many teeth to anyone else, but to JJ, Bernard was the most beautiful when his eyes were unhinged and seeing what seemed to be beyond their universe. Bernard was always so much fun, but even more so when the weight of the dark circles under his eyes seemed to lighten with Bernard's manic glee.

JJ abruptly straightens at the sound of gunshots close by. Bernard smiles lazily.

“What do you say about continuing this lovely date from inside a firefight?” Bernard asks teasingly.

“Well that sounds just fantastic!” JJ says, now scooping up Bernard's hand into a firm grip and leading them towards the violence at a brisk pace.

The couple were practically vibrating with excitement. Just before entering a decrepit building Bernard reaches into a nearby alley and yanks loose a baseball bat from seemingly nowhere. He smacks it into the palm of his hand with a solid sound and with one last shared grin, JJ and Bernard leap into the fight. JJ and Bernard could see various Bats flying around but they didn’t seem to notice them in the chaos and JJ and Bernard easily took advantage of that fact.

When JJ fought the various goons running around like headless chickens, he was vicious. There was no rhyme or reason to what he did, there was no pattern to memorize or easy way to combat it. Occasionally some nameless face would get a hit in that surely should have knocked him down, but he just bounced back up with a cackle. Then between one blink and the next he whipped out his pistol and shot them point blank, cleanly through the space between their eyes.

Then there was Bernard, he weaved between the mob like water over rocks. He twisted and bent in unnatural ways and every drop of blood that dripped onto his skin seemed to add to the force behind his hits. In contrast to JJ’s unnatural face splitting grin, Bernard wore a bitten off, close mouthed smirk that screamed danger and madness. Where JJ was staggeringly human in the way he fought, Bernard was otherworldly.

Before long the fight had ended, the battlefield divided into two parts. One side held dead men and women riddled with bullet holes and busted open skulls. On the other were the lucky bastards that got off with zip tied wrists and maybe a couple broken ribs. The Bats of course were now finally aware of the couple's presence. JJ and Bernard being wrapped around each other laughing when they carefully approached.

JJ spotted Batman and abruptly looked as though he had bitten into a particularly sour lemon.

“Tim,” Batman said uncharacteristically gentle.

JJ scowled. “Wrong.” He said forcefully.

Batman opens his mouth to respond, looking pained, but JJ slapped his hands over his ears and gives a blood curdling screech. Batman winces but Bernard barely reacts.

“I don’t understand why you keep doing that.” Bernard said with an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “You know all it accomplishes is making him upset.” he glares.

“Y’know if you weren’t so important to the narrative, you’d be dead by now. You should count yourself lucky that you're DC’s specialist boy.”

Batman looked confused but JJ looked at Bernard with heart eyes, having already forgotten his previous upset.

“I love you.” JJ breathed dreamily.

“I love you too sweetheart.” Bernard says, hauling JJ into his arms and glaring at Batman over his head before striding out of the building.

And if he purposefully crushed some skulls under his foot just to make Batman squirm, that was his business.

—————

JJ cackles as he and Bernard tumble through his window in a tangled mess of limbs. They stayed splayed across the carpet wrapped around each other and talking in hushed tones nose to nose. Then JJ’s door creaked open and there was a woman in the doorway.

“JJ, now where have you been puddin’? Me and Ivy been waiting for forever!” Harley huffs playfully, leaning against the doorframe.

Bernard lets JJ scramble to his feet and tackle Harley around the waist, grinning up at her.

“Sorry mama! Me and Bear were out on a date! Had lotsa fun and lost track’a time!” He chirps.

Bernard glided silently across the floor and loomed behind JJ awkwardly. Harley gave a restricted wave from where JJ had pinned her arms in his hug.

“Bernard, it’s always nice to see ya. How ya doin’ kiddo?” Harley tilts her head, eyes searching.

“I’m alright, Mrs. Quinn. Same old same old. I'm better now that me and JJ are together again.” Bernard says, giving a small but genuine smile.

Harley softened subtly.“Yeah well, I know JJ is just as happy. I know he was devastated when you were held at the police station for the week.”

“I am! I’m super happy!” JJ twists and jumps into Bernard's lanky arms, who surprisingly holds him up just fine.

“You’re so strong.” JJ swoons, Bernard rolls his eyes but notably holds JJ closer.

Harley huffs, “Alright sugar, me and Ivy are gonna be in the livin’ room. Y’all don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” she says teasingly.

“That doesn’t disqualify a whole lot, mama.” JJ grins.

“Exactly.” Harley says, playfully ruffling his hair. “Don’t die and don’t get caught, m’kay puddin’?”

JJ nods enthusiastically and Bernard follows suit though with much less energy. Harley chooses that moment to duck out of the room, the door closing behind her with a creak and a click. Bernard then climbs over the scattered chaos of JJ’s bedroom floor and with a twist he gently dumps JJ–who had climbed onto his back at some point–onto the bed.

JJ quickly burritos himself into a knitted monstrosity that he had made at the height of a random hyperfixation. Bernard crawls in after him and curls around him instinctively like he was a protective barrier against the world. JJ leans into Bernard, greedily soaking in the affection and Bernard returns the favor readily.

What they had was unconventional but it was beautiful and precious to them. The shattered pieces that had once made them individuals had melted together into a one of a kind mosaic. And although outsiders had their unwanted concerns–although they considered the couple mad–neither of them had any desire to live separately ever again.

----

@'s!!!

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Thank you so much for reading!

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