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

burnednotburied · 2 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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headcaasefiction · 2 months ago

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Kinktober 2024

Day 1: Spanking

(Dean Winchester/AFAB!Reader)

Minors Do Not Interact

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 3,117

Summary: Y/N fumbles a routine hunt, upsetting Dean, who punishes her accordingly.

Warnings: Spanking, DubCon, Vaginal Fingering.

As far as hunts go, this one should’ve been relatively easy. A vampire nest: estimated to be only four… but you got cocky and let your guard down trying to impress Dean. You were just inches short of having your throat ripped out when a surprise fifth vampire snuck up behind you, and you’d either be dead or an undead monster right now if Dean hadn’t swooped in to save you. Rookie mistake.

“I never should’ve let you come.”

You wince, shame bubbling up in your stomach and throat, making you feel like you are going to be sick. Those words hurt worse than the cut on your shoulder and the bruise on your ribs.

Dean’s face is shadowed with a cold stare, steel jaw clenched tight as he white-knuckles the steering wheel. It was the most he had said to you for the last day and a half since he hauled your dumb-ass out of the nest, half beat and bleeding. He had wordlessly stitched you up in the motel room the two of you shared, never once looking you in the eye. You’ve been curled in on yourself since, tucked close to the passenger’s side door avoiding the urge to look at him.

“I still don’t know what the hell you were thinking,” he continues, as you see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye, “Could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

This is what you have been waiting for, you could feel the tension steadily growing for the last 400 miles, his fuming silent treatment hanging over your head. You knew you were in for the lecture of a lifetime the moment he cut off the vampire’s head that had you in their grasp.

It was supposed to be so simple; a cut and dry hunt, small nest just west of Memphis, two days tops and a short ride into the city for some well deserved food. Dean was adamant on going by himself at first. “I just need a calm job, something I don’t have to think about too much.”

Sam was exhausted and healing a few cuts and bruises from their previous hunt. They had just come back from a week long road trip to Salt Lake City – some kind of witch cult, so he was more than happy to sit this one out, saying he would not like to be riding around the country every waking moment of his life.

This was the perfect opportunity for you to finally have Dean all alone to yourself for once. You had never been on a hunt with just the two of you before, and you had been biding your time for the last five months you had been staying with them at the bunker.

“I’ve actually never been to Tennessee,” you piped up, poking your head into Dean’s bedroom as he packed, “I’ve always wanted to see Memphis, and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone watch your back, even if it’s just a few vamps.”

Dean nodded his head, thinking about your proposal for a moment before deciding, “You know what, sure, why not? I could use the company, and I can take you to the world’s best Hot Chicken that you will ever have in your life.”

Before you knew it you were hauling ass towards Memphis, Led Zepplin blaring on the radio, almost drowning out Dean’s per usual bad singing. You couldn’t remember the last time you had seen him so happy. Head tossed back, tapping his palms against the steering wheel singing about “The warmth of your smile” and “The thrill of your touch” and “The light of the love that I found” with that damn smile that made your heart flutter beaming on his face.

You felt on top of the world, cloud nine, the sun shining through your teeth – this was perfect and you didn’t want it to end. Your times alone with Dean have always been brief, Sam never too far away, typically just around the corner. But not this time, for at least a few days you’d have the beautiful green-eyed hunter all to yourself, shared motel room and all.

Of course that all came crashing down the moment you had the brilliant idea of ignoring Dean’s orders to wait for him before entering the room the nest was sleeping in. You had a fantasy of swiftly taking them out as they slept, heads gone before they even knew what hit them, and Dean would come in ready for a fight only to find you already cleaning your blade, as if bored.

“What took you so long?”

And he’d sheepishly grin at you and praise your skills, put his arm around you as he took you out to dinner to reward you for your glowing victory…stupid, stupid rookie mistake.

“I said I was sorry Dean, I thought I could handle it,” you mumble, picking at a hangnail to try and distract yourself from the growing annoyance you feel as he continues his lecture, “We thought there were only four of them –,” but he cuts you off.

“Yeah but there weren’t four, Y/N, there were five! I told you to stay put while I scoped the rest of the place out, but you couldn’t even do that, you just had to barge your ass in there and almost get fucking eaten!”

Your fists are clenched now, almost as tight as Dean’s grip against baby’s wheel, your fingernails pressing little red crescents into the palm of your hand as you try not to match the volume of his voice.

“Well I didn’t get eaten, did I? I appreciate the save, that’s why it’s safer to not be alone on a hunt,” You grit through your teeth, your attempt to de-escalate, “If it was just the four I could’ve handled it.”

Dean rolls his eyes, scoffing, “You could’ve handled it? You couldn’t even handle the one that had you by the throat, Y/N.”

At that, you see red. You jerk to the side, twisting in your seat to face him, your hands balled up in fists, the urge to punch him in his condescending face almost overpowering.

“You’re one to fucking talk, Winchester! I’m so sorry I was trying to make things easier for you. How many times have you fucked up your and Sam’s plans because you decided to be a selfish prick and run off to fulfill some sick need to sacrifice yourself, huh?!”

As soon as the words leave your mouth Dean takes one hard look at you, face scrunched up with fury and slams on the brakes, bringing the Impala to a screeching halt along a lonely stretch of highway. You lurch forward in your seat, momentum pushing you forward tight against your seatbelt, your hands bracing against the dashboard with sudden fear before the car comes to a complete stop.

“What the hell, Dean?!” You yell, trying to steady your breathing and heartrate in an attempt to quell the sharp anxiety welling up.

Dean doesn’t say a word, just puts the car in park and gets out, slamming the door as he exits, causing you to jump a little. You clench your teeth and huff, rolling your eyes. This was just like him you thought, Dean Winchester, can dish it out but he can’t take it.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean,” you continue, undoing your seatbelt and throwing your hands in the air, exasperated as you watch him circle around the hood of the car, “Me almost getting killed by a vampire doesn’t really matter if you’re going to kill us both in a goddamn car accident! What is your problem? I already feel bad enough as it is, you could get off my fucking back about it - Dean wait – WAIT! What the fuck?!” You scream as he throws the passenger side door open, grabbing your wrist with brutal force before yanking you out of the car, “What the hell are you doing?!”

He manhandles you to the side of the road as he opens the backseat door, completely ignoring your protests and how you attempt to pull and tug away from him to get your arm back, his grip bruising into your wrist with every movement.

“Teaching you some manners, sweetheart.”

“Teaching me what?!”

He slides onto the leather upholstery in the backseat, bracing his foot on the body of the car and grabbing your other wrist to pull you in with him. You attempt to twist out of his arms but his strength and leverage out weigh you, and you tumble in across his lap face down.

“What the fuck, Dean! Let me go!” You shriek, extending out one of your now free arms to push yourself off of him, feet kicking wildly, but to no avail. He takes your other arm and pins it behind your back, then wraps his other arm around your legs to keep them still.

“You keep moving around like that, you’re just going to make things worse for yourself.”

You have nowhere to go, nowhere to move to as you continue to squirm in vain, your face flushed red with humiliation while your one free arm flails against the seat. You’re completely vulnerable, your soft cotton short-shorts riding up to show off the plush curve of your ass, your oversized T-shirt sliding up to reveal your back and lack of bra. You know he can see everything and it makes you want to cry.

Eventually you give up, lying slack in his arms while trying to catch your breath, hissing at the slight twinge of pain from your bruised ribcage.

“Are you done?” He asks, tone blunt, grip still strong against your aching limbs, “I know your shoulder and ribs are a little fucked up, I’m not trying to make that worse.”

“Then…then what are you trying to do?” You question softly, unable to hide the concern in your voice.

“I’m trying to send a message, Y/N,” he says, before suddenly releasing your legs and rubbing his hand up the back of your thigh and onto your ass, making you go rigid, “Your behavior on the hunt; not following my orders, almost getting yourself killed, and the comment you just made about me, all because you don’t want to fess up about just how in the wrong you are, is completely out of line.”

If you thought breathing was difficult before, it now felt like you had never used your lungs in your entire life. It’s hard to concentrate on what he’s saying, he sounds almost far away, like he’s underwater. His hand is burning a hole through you, icy-hot shivers spark through your skin as a wave of warmth rolls through your stomach.

“And when brats get out of line, they need to be punished accordingly.”

Before you can say anything, before you can even think about what he is going to do to you, his hand leaves your backside for a moment and then comes down hard with a resounding SMACK on your right cheek. You cry out in shock and pain, a sharp sting spider-webbing across your sensitive flesh while your brain tries to play catch up with the position you are actually in.

“If you’re going to be part of the team, part of us, then you need to start listening to me, Y/N.”

His hand comes down again on your other cheek, but then in rapid succession he lands three more, lightning fast and more forceful than the first two. The pain blooms instantly, punching the air out of your lungs. You try to struggle again, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, the tips of your ears burning hot. It’s no use, the moment you start to squirm once more, he begins his onslaught, alternating between hard slaps on your thighs and both cheeks of your ass.

“I was lenient with you in the beginning,” he says in between strikes, ignoring how you are now freely sobbing into the crook of your unconfined arm as he spanks you blood red, “But I have clearly not shown you who is really in charge here.”

“P-please, I’m sorry!” You managed to gasp out while choking on your own tears, “Please Dean I’ll do anything you say!”

He stops momentarily and harshly exhales, giving a hard suck to his teeth as if you have angered him even more, and after a brief pause, he tucks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and roughly pulls them down.

You think you feel your soul leave your body as you are completely stripped of the remaining modesty and dignity you have left. All you can do is whimper at the sensation, and try to shove down the feeling, that when all was said and done, this was actually turning you on.

He continues your punishment, dealing out quick sharp smacks on your completely bare ass, watching the red bloom across your flesh, “You’ll do anything I say? Where was that attitude back at the vampire’s nest, huh? You’ll do anything but actually listen to me when you could be in danger, is that it?”

Your head is spinning, you’re seeing stars and every time his palm connects with your skin it feels like you are being struck by lightning. You can still feel your hot tears pouring down your face and neck, but also the warm wetness spreading between your thighs at every blow he lands.

“No! Please Dean, please! I was trying to impress you, only ever did it because I desperately want to impress you! I just want you to like me!”

That makes Dean pause, releasing your arm from behind your back. For a moment the only sounds are the two of you panting in unison, your heart beating against it’s cage, threatening to burst out as the pain throbs and pulses along your skin.

You bury your face against the leather seat, hopelessly humiliated at your confession. You admitted your crush, and you admitted it face-down, bare-assed, across his lap in the back of his car after you royally fucked up what was almost supposed to be a mini-vacation. Rookie mistake. And you’re almost sure he hates you, is disgusted by you, is going to drive you back to the bunker, tell Sam what happened and then promptly kick you out…but then Dean breaks the silence.

“Y/N…I already like you,” he murmurs, his hand finally soothing over your red-swollen skin, up the curve of your ass, finally comforting you as your body shakes and quivers from his harsh punishment, “That’s why I couldn’t stand it if you ever got seriously hurt on my watch.”

Those words steal your breath away again, butterflies dancing in the warm waves of sensation that lap through your belly, that echo I already like you, I already like you.

His touch is now soft and gentle while he traces over the light purple bruises that are starting to form across your backside, speckled up each cheek and down to the backs of your thighs. His fingertips linger there while he massages you, taking the pain away as you realize he is inching ever closer to your dripping center.

“Dean...?” You twist around as much as you could to try and look at him, your eyes shining with need and curiosity. What you find is his bright green eyes blown wide, darkened with hunger staring back at you.

He drags his teeth over his bottom lip, breathing in deeply, fingers so close you can feel the heat radiating off of them, “If you follow my orders, like a good girl, no one gets hurt, and I even give rewards for good behavior.”

With a tender motion, his middle fingertip glides along your slick entrance, then up and over your clit, causing you to cry out as rapid ecstasy washes over you. You think this must be a dream.

“Dean, Dean…”

Before long he’s pumping two thick fingers into you, his other hand threaded through your hair as his thumb softly caresses your temple. You’re a whimpering, mewling mess as you cry out in time with the thrust of his hand, obscene wet noises filling the air. You hide your face in your arms once more, not wanting him to see how flushed you are from the embarrassment of knowing your pussy is leaking all over his jeans.

His expert fingers bully you effortlessly, hitting the spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars every time he enters your cunt. The warm knot continues to tighten in your stomach, pleasure singing in your veins as you arch your back, ass in the air, thighs spread as wide as you can manage without falling off the seat.

“Mmmm, good girl,” he whispers, withdrawing his drenched fingers and rubbing glossy circles over your clit.

You’re incredibly close, his continuous movements keeping you on the cusp, the knot ready to snap. And just before you are ready to cross over the edge, tingling heat encasing your body from head to toe… he stops.

“Deeeaaann…” You whine before biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut, overwhelmed, “That’s not fair!”

He chuckles, threading a hand through your hair once more and soothing the other over your back before helping you to sit up and face him, “I said I give rewards for good behavior.”

Quickly he leans in and kisses you as if he were starving, licking along your bottom lip and giving it a little nip when he pulls away, making you shiver with want.

“But you called me a good girl,” you pout, pressing your foreheads together while your fingers intertwine. You’re seated directly on his lap now, and you can feel how hard his cock is straining against his jeans. Playfully you wiggle your ass, grinding down on him, “I promise I’ll do whatever you say.”

That makes him groan, but instead of unzipping his pants and fucking you into the backseat, he hands you your crumpled up shorts and panties.

It makes your heart sink for a moment until he tells you, “You have a lot of making up to do, sweetheart, but you can do that back at the bunker, in my room.”

You flush, and your heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, shifting over to the empty side of the seat so you can slip back into your shorts, “Will you just…will you promise not to tell Sam, please?”

He smirks, leaning over to kiss your neck, “Yes, as long as you stop putting yourself in danger just to impress me. Otherwise you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

Main Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #dean winchester x reader #x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #supernatural kinktober

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blxvdlusttxx · 5 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 · 6 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 · 6 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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spop-romanticizes-abuse · 5 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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bhaalsbabe · 1 year ago

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Not all gifts are appreciated

Pairing: pre-tadpole gn!Durge x Enver Gortash

Word count: ~700

Summary/warnings: my thoughts on how the rule of "not meddling with each other's business" came to be; MDNI, mentions of killing, brief gore description, suggestive at the end, Durge origin spoilers

Perfect, you thought to yourself as you arranged a corpse in front of Gortash's desk. You made it sit upright, you made sure it could be seen right from the door that it's missing the mandible. The rest of the body was covered in cuts of various sizes from when you toyed with it, the dried blood proof that they were done when the old man still breathed. You were proud of your handiwork as per usual and you couldn't wait for Gortash to see it too. You paced around the small office, unable to hold back your excitement. When your sharp senses heard approaching footsteps, you could discern from the walking pattern that it's the recipient of your gift. You stopped pacing, pulling yourself together to look more like the Chosen of Bhaal people usually got to see. With bated breath, you waited for the door to open.

"What's th-" Gortash stopped, looking at the corpse in shock, then at the smiling you.

"I've brought you a gift!" You exclaimed, still smiling. "You said he was too much of a hassle, and how you wished he would just stop babbling and die already. Well - he won't be a problem now. See-" You nudged the exposed mouth with your foot, the head rolling to the side as you disturbed the precarious balance. "He won't be able to speak anymore, ever! Aren't you happy?" You beamed at him, like a child showing a picture they've drawn to their parent.

Gortash's perfect facade disappeared as his face contorted in anger. "Happy? You fucking IDIOT! I almost had him sign the deal. Do you have any idea how long it took me to convince old Irlentree to make me his main supplier?!" He raised his voice, still holding a bit of control over his emotions even if he was beyond pissed at the moment. "I had a feeling you might have been the one behind his disappearance but I thought - hoped - you were smarter than that." He rubbed his face in frustration. "And to bring his corpse to MY office too, have you finally lost your mind? This could easily incriminate me and ruin my entire life's work!" He walked towards you menacingly, staring daggers at your face.

You just shrugged it off, however. "Oh stop being so dramatic. I can move lifeless bodies between various locations without being seen." You wrapped your arm around his burly shoulders, bringing him closer to you. "Just tell me a name and I'll make sure they're the one getting framed for this murder. An assassination on the head of a noble house is nothing new, you wouldn't believe how often we get contracts like that. So, calm down, Enver, hm?" You kissed his lips softly, making him focus on you and your body instead of the anger your actions caused him. He tried to push you away, weakly and half-heartedly, before relenting and accepting your advances. You smiled, pulling away after a minute or two of kissing. You patted his head affectionately. "There you go~"

"Let's set up a new rule though. If we are to work together, we won't meddle in each other's businesses anymore. You'll leave the politics to me while I'll leave the cult's dealings to you." You just nodded, clearly not really listening or taking his words to heart, instead you leaned in to kiss him again but he stopped you, pressing his fingers to your lips. "I'm serious. No more murders of my potential business partners, no matter how helpful you think you're being. If I need such service, you're the first one I'll go to and then we'll talk. Understood?" He used his commanding voice at you and you had to control yourself to not grin. He was just so adorable, how he thought he had power over you when you could easily slit his throat before he could even realise what's happening. And yet you decided to cooperate. He pulled his hand away to let you speak.

"I understand." You agreed, your hand coming to play with his messy black hair. "Now let's figure out what to do with this old geezer and then you can reward me for my hard work, hm~?"

He snorted and chucked, shaking his head in disbelief. He let his hands brush over your hips, squeezing them teasingly, before letting you go. "Fine. I already have a few ideas for both."

#Durgetash #durge x gortash #enver gortash x reader #gortash x reader #gortash x durge #dark urge x gortash #the dark urge x enver gortash #enver gortash x dark urge #bg3 x you #bg3 x reader #bg3 headcanons

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brenhotapplepies · 6 months ago

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Seen some stuff about Astrid being problematic in the same breath as praising Essek. I know media literacy is tough, but let’s examine.

How is Astrid problematic and Essek isn’t? They both are manipulative when it’s called for. Both are capable of lying, killing, and other untold horrors. Both are incredibly powerful.

One has had a lonely by choice and privileged life as the weird but useful son of the head of a Den.

One has had their identity stripped from them in a way that combines the worst of cults and the military. Tortured, experimented on, changed in ways we don’t even know the extent of.

One has had the pressure of his Den, his mother, his father, his brother, his whole community pressing on him his whole life. He stepped up into the air and took the weight as if it was effortless. He focused his life on study because it was the only thing that gave him worth in this society and it was genuinely what he enjoyed, whatever enjoyment was for him then. He had access to materials, books, almost anything.

One has had the pressure of her community, her background, in her face as she tried to beat the odds. The expectations for her were nothing, but she said fuck that. She studied with nothing, clawed her way into the venerated halls of higher magic learning. She does everything for the Empire, for Trent. She wants success for herself, because that is what gets her approval, keeps her safe.

One is in a position of power in his society. He has the ability to pull strings. He doesn’t think about how his actions impact his community or really anything besides himself. Sure maybe he wants to find something to impair the religion in the region, but it feels like even that starts out as a quest to prove himself right. His life is largely his own, despite the derision of some.

One is continuously tortured, tested, forced to PROVE herself. Cut her hair, stomp out any resistance to her mentor through any means necessary. Find some solace in their two peers. Made to kill their family to prove themselves based on a lie. She is conditioned to fight because who else will protect her country in the dirty, dark ways she has to? She is trying to salvage her sacrifices into a purpose. Bren is one of those sacrifices.

One kills indiscriminately if they get in his way. The man the Nein dropped off at the peace talks? I still remember how sad it was as he tried to piece together his broken mind, a mind Essek broke to save himself.

One kills for their country. Follows orders, kills when they find it necessary to protect those who cannot protect themselves. This is what she believes.

One GAVE AWAY a powerful religious artifact to HIS PEOPLE’S ENEMY. The intent was purely selfish curiosity.

One helped protect and study that artifact to PROTECT her country. The intent is curiosity to assist in her job, protect her country.

One finds the strength to allow himself to be loved and have friends after years of solitude. Because he just never was so fully loved. He finds the strength to let the ultimate time travel power and the knowledge that he was right go. To become comfortable with time he has left.

One finds the strength to listen to one of the only real, genuine relationships she’s ever had. Her first love. A reminder of her younger, hopeful self. She changes. She realizes the lies she’s allowed herself to believe. She finds the strength to not kill her torturer just to kill him. She finds the strength to testify. To promise that no other kids will suffer. Justice. To become comfortable with the time she has left.

One is a he.

One is a she/they.

I wonder what the issue is.

These characters are two sides of the same coin. They are both INCREDIBLY WELL THOUGHT OUT characters. They are more than just paramours of Caleb Widogast.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr2 #cr3 #astrid becke #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #shadowgast #widobecke #character analysis

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linkito · 6 months ago

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👀 this au/start of thing is intriguing, I am interested and would totally read more of it if you ever worked on it more.

-🎀

Well hello there—

Turns out I had more thoughts about the caged vex au

So, Scar introduces himself and tells Grian he can ask for anything he wants, right? And he promises he won’t cut corners or search for loopholes— he genuinely wants to repay Grian for freeing him!

I think the first thing Grian would ask is if Scar can hide him from the Watchers.

To which Scar replies, yes. If you tell me to, I’ll do it. He can’t promise whatever ward he creates will hold, necessarily, but if Grian asks for it, he’ll do it to the best of his ability.

And I think the second thing Grian would ask for?

A place to sleep.

The man is tired. He just escaped an angelic nightmare cult, scrambled away into some shady cave, and got scared half to death by a vex. More than anything, he wants a big fluffy bed and to sleep without fear of being found in the middle of the night.

“One lovely bed coming right up!” Scar cheers, and to Grian’s surprise he… conjures up the supplies to make a bed, but not an actual pre-made bed.

“I thought you said no tricks,” Grian huffs. “Do you expect me to craft it?” He doesn’t have the energy for this.

“Oh gosh no,” Scar replies, getting to work on it himself. “But I also said no cutting corners! And let me tell you, a magically conjured bed is no good. Never up to standard in my experience, no, no.”

And Grian just watches in astonishment as this ferocious-looking creature slowly and carefully constructs a king-sized bed in front of his eyes, occasionally using magic to aid him but— he’s using his hands. His sharp, scratched-up, calloused hands.

And oh my god if it’s not the most comfortable thing Grian has ever laid down on.

He almost passes out immediately, honestly, but then he notices Scar just sitting very awkwardly on the corner of the bed, fidgeting with his tail like it’s some kind of stress toy. It’s kind of adorable. A creature so scary shouldn’t be allowed to be adorable.

Grian tilts his head in question and, well—

“You, uh, only asked for one bed,” Scar mumbles, averting his eyes. (His cheeks flush a light blue when he’s embarrassed.) “Soooo I could only make one bed.”

And ah, right, of course. Scar’s magic is limited to what he’s instructed to do.

But Grian is tired and the bed is enormous and the nest of torn up clothes and rocks that Scar must have been sleeping on doesn’t look comfortable and he’s not about to ask Scar to make another elaborate bed and—

Screw it.

If the vex wanted to kill him, he’d have done it by now.

“Make yourself cozy,” Grian says instead of any direct request. A dangerous game to play with a vex. There are so many ways that could possibly be twisted and yet…

Scar crawls into the bed with Grian, offering ample space between them, and the only magic he uses is just enough to light a small campfire beside them.

And they both get to rest, falling asleep to the peaceful echoes of the crackling fire.

original caged au post here

#link writes #guys there was only one bed #i couldn’t help myself #caged au #ribbon anon #do you think scar snores

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gojoshooter · 2 years ago

Text

A to Z — with Gojo Satoru

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x reader (any gender)

Genre : sfw, fluff and loads of fluff, gets a bit steamy but still sfw

A/N : lots of gojo headcanons <33 this is my second work so im still learning. reblog if u like? ♡

WARNING : non-graphical description of make-out sessions, mention of blood, injury, arguments, spoilers

A = Affection (are they affectionate with you?)

He doesn't get to spend a lot of time but this boy loves you so much

Bringing souvenirs is his love language, god he spoils you

A hard day makes him super touchy so he either spoons you to sleep & gives unhealthy amounts of kisses or just drapes himself on you if he's feeling extra lazy

Sweetheart over babygirl

B = Babies (how many kids does he want?)

He doesn't really mind, hasn't though about it much

He'd let you decide whatever you want tbh

Lowkey would like three to four kids, either all daughters or all sons to make a cult gang of his own

You both are like mom & dad to Megumi so he's fine either way

C = Comfort (how do they comfort you?)

When you start ranting about another mean customer and how hard the day has been, he let's you take your time and reminds to take long breaths in between, lacing your fingers together with his mild warm ones

He'd usually get quite when you're crying, holding you in his folded lap but takes it into his own hands and cracks silly jokes when your crying becomes uncontrollable

You'd crack up most of time and relax, explain him what's going on with you, but if it goes any further and your state is worse than he expected, he'd be dangerous to deal with

Now better expect the person who hurt you dead

D = Date (how was your first date? what are dates with him like?)

He would usually get overboard with dates, getting you high-end expensive branded clothes to a dinner in one of the best restaurants in japan

Don't get him wrong though, he does this not to be pompous of his richness but because he gets so little time to spent with you

E = Emotion (is it easy for them to express his emotions in front of you?)

If there is anyone he can let himself be him around, it's no one but you

Since the day he executed his best friend, you're the only person left to hold him when he falls

He barely cries, (except that one time he killed geto) just becomes quite and you know something is not right

He never reaches out first so you sometimes end up over thinking about his health

F = Feelings (when did they know they were in love with you?)

He can't pinpoint a specific time when he started to fall for you

But maybe it started when you both were given a mission together and you planned and executed the whole thing with so much brains and courage, all you left him to do was to rescue you after you, a semi first grade sorcerer finished off the special grade curse all by yourself

He was so impressed, almost called himself a simp if he didn't know the fact you were all the same head over heels for him too

G = Gym (do they go to the gym? how built are they?)

His busy life as a 'shaman who protects people' takes credit for those guns

He has applied for a gym session but that's just for the talk

Is actually quite buffed up

Can do more than a hundred push ups

Just the perfect amount of muscles to make him an eye candy

H = Hands (how do they like to hold hands?)

When holding hands he swings your arms back and forth like a little kid

He does it so absent-mindedly you find him adorable

Doesn't let go of your hands if you both are making out

He does that because you shy away and he enjoys how helpless you look flushed bright red under him

Plays with your fingers when nervous

I = “I love you” (who said it first? and how?)

It was obvious to almost everyone who knew you two about your mutual pinning each other

But you keep chickening out and so did he

One day when you were badly injured due to an exceptionally hard mission with him he loses his cool and composure because it was you and in the heat of the moment he tightly hugs you making you promise to not let go and inevitably yelling the three words

For the sake of being a bitch and getting it back on him for every mean thing he did to you, you say, holding his face in your equally injured bloody hands, "I'm alive, honey"

You cackle as he picks you up for treatment at Shoko's clearly fake-pissed off

Ultimately you kiss his cheeks confessing back in the moment

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous? how do they act when they’re jealous?)

Gojo can get jealous really easily so you don't need to try

And when he is, he would act like a child

If he could just throw you over his shoulder while saying “mine” he would

But he settles for coming from behind you, relaxed smile on his lips, he asks what you guys are talking about in an innocent tone

K = Kiss (how do they kiss?)

It is usually short and quick ones when he kisses you bye for his solo missions or somewhere out with his students

To compensate he'd kiss you really deep and long during make out sessions knowing the fact you don't have musk ox of a lung like him

It's either quick or deep ones, no in between

Forehead kisses are his favorite

L = Love language (how do they show you that they love you? what is their love language?)

KING OF GIFT GIVING BYE

He'd pick flowers if there are any around, and braid/tuck them into your hair

Lightly scratching behind your neck and ears then smothering them and asking you to do the same

Gojo would bite your cheeks in the most random moment

Buy sour patches and gummy bears to eat with you

M = Memory (what is their favorite memory with you?)

Drunk karaoke

Neither of you could sing but it didn't matter and you couldn't stop laughing about how terrible you sounded together

Nanami came to the rescue and booked a cab

You recorded the whole thing and couldn't stop watching it when you got home

N = Night (how are nights spent with him?)

Falling asleep against his shoulder after a late night movie marathon

Sometimes he'd insist to cook the dinner by himself

And it's a new recipe of Kikufuku

You'd try to act mad but can't put it up for long not when he holds a spoonful with big eyes of the sweet desert he made

Loves to cuddle you specially on winter nights

O = On cloud nine (how do they act when falling in love with you?)

Becomes a lot more thoughtful on the next thing he gifts you and a bit more excited about giving them

Might be a bit more flirty without really realizing

Gojo also notices a lot of things about you that he begins to like more than usual

Starts acting more silly and childish (which you love)

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He's a tease, so he comes up with new odd but funny nicknames like 'nugget' and calls you that before switching to something new after almost a week

Lots of pet names when he'd comfort you, usually cute ones like 'love bug', 'bambi' or 'pup' which are your favorites

Gojo often calls you by your name followed by a '-chan' or '-kun' if he refers to you in front of anyone

Q = Quizzes (how much do they remember and know about you?)

He's a busy man, so you wouldn't mind if he forgets your birthday

But the thing is he doesn't

Keeping small things about you in mind that are important to him, like whether you're depressed or anxious

Making playlists that match both of your tastes and sending them to you late at night when he's abroad on a mission missing you

R = Rage (what do they do if they're mad at you?)

Literally almost none of your actions can make him angry

Oh but one thing

Gojo was really mad that one time you put yourself to such a diet it started to effect your body mentally and physically

Never raises his voice though, you got a day of cold shoulder untill you gave up on the diet

S = Sugar or Spice (what do they prefer?)

He has a big sweet tooth

Eating almost half of the desserts that you bring in a day

You wish his teeth rot but he's god's favourite

Can not handle spice much as you can

Probably the only thing Gojo Satoru isn't good at

T = Twitter (are they on twitter? if yes, what do they do there?)

He made a private twitter account few weeks after in a romantic relationship with you

Only lets few closest of his friends and students in

The username is 'y/nlovebot'

Isn't very active but tweet at a random hour asking the weirdest question about love advice

Megumi blocks him

U = UwU (would he ever act cute for you?)

Do you think he needs to act?

He's a jerk but he can do that to make up and you'll always fall

He'd look cute even with his small smile playing on his slightly pink glossy lips

Prolly his copping mechanism

V = Vip (how important are you to them?)

If he could choose, he'd choose you over being the strongest sorcerer in the world

You're his top priority

If not one of the top, besides Geto

You're afraid to test where he might draw the line but you believe in him, he'll never let you down

You're his 'special little pup' and very much vip

W = Waking up (what are they like when they wake up next to you?)

It's not rare that you're up before him

Waking up, you open your eyes to see his broad bare shoulders & his light hair slightly across his face

Or sometimes you wake up tangled somehow, arms and legs are often intertwined, and you're lying on his chest

He won't wake up untill his morning kisses are given

X = X-ray (how does the relationship look from an outside perspective compared to how it really is?)

Your relationship seems the cute and stable type

If there are any arguments, Gojo and you would work it out the smart ways

He knows how to handle your bad mood the best, giving you space and preparing a warm drink to make you relax

There's never a time he makes you feel things wouldn't be okay

He's not the type to baby sit you and you know that because he lets you do your part of the mission

He fell for what a rebel of a person you are, come on

Y = Yes (do they think of getting married/proposing?)

It would start off as a joke between the two of you on a late evening, in between the laughs and the light breeze coming from outside the Jujutsu tech

Gojo would find the idea of marrying you very appealing, suddenly not laughing anymore

There would be a high chance that he would promise on holiday or something to make it a special time

On the day of proposal night, that happens to be your birthday, he'd definitely do something silly like wrap a bit of tissue around your finger as a fake ring until he got one

Z = Zzz (how do they sleep with you?)

Finds it easier to sleep while hugging you to his chest

Often tangles his legs around yours out of habit when he spoons you

He's not a heavy sleeper thanks to his sharpened senses

You like to stroke his hair and he would smile at you but wakes up with you sprawled all over him lol

A/N : AND THAT'S ALL. i hope this put a smile on your face somewhere along the lines lol. Untill next time!

Tags : @luckimoon ♡

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