#I LEFT IT OPEN FOR ANY OF YOUR VERSES OR IF YOU WANNA MAKE ONE

[fuckedprophet-arch]

oh he could bitch. the desire sits on the very tip of his tongue as his cigarette rests on his lips, broke down in the middle of no where seemed to be just perfect. he'd read the sign on the way in and ' shady grove ' sent a foreboding shiver down his spine. what was it about names that held so much power? was that why he never mentioned where he'd come from, he couldn't truly answer that. he'd lost the vote though when it came to seeking out a phone for their troubles. there had been a howl of laughter and the offer to switch, but he'd eat his poison just like anyone else. he'd ditched his back at the bus, the sweltering heat radiating off the high way asphalt warned him of just how much he'd sweat his ass off trying to find the nearest house or gas station.

there hadn't been a house in a mile of his walking, just long drawn out greenery and woods flanking each side of the now back road he walked. the shade had been welcomed but the suffocating heat had not been missed. his boots crunch into the loose gravel as he rounds a particularly sharp curve in the road, spotting a home not too far from the road itself. a lopsided mailbox stands -- or well leans a foot or two away from the drive that curls beside it. there deep in his stomach he can feel hesitation lingering around the idea of approaching someone for help, at least here he felt it. were these people like the ones he'd ran away from so long ago, would he have to gnash his teeth once more or would they be no different than others who'd granted him kindness? he couldn't say. drawing to a short stop at the property's edge blue eyes swint against the light filtering through the trees, spying someone at a distance. " excuse me? hello ? "

@freezeher liked for a starter!

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

[chiaraanatra]

A Place For My Head

𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑟𝑏: JJ knows just how to cheer you up after a shitty day at work.

Warnings: fluff, characters are 18+, swearing, mild angst due to mentions of mild verbal sexual harassment, pet names (cupcake, pretty girl, & kittycat), kissing, no use of Y/N.

AN: first JJ fic! Based on this post and my exchange with @starfxkr about JJ and Kitten!reader and their love for Linkin Park.

Song: A Place For My Head by Linkin Park

《 m.list || ao3 》

You spend the 15-minute ride to JJ's in silence. It was peak touron season and the bar you worked at was packed with frat boys and married 40-somethings drinking away any semblance of civility they had. The tips were good but if you had to deal with one more drunken asshole commenting on how your ass looked in your shorts, you were going to lose it.

You tried to remind yourself that none of that mattered now. Soon you and JJ would spend the rest of the day soaking in the Carolina sun, surfing, and letting the tides wash away your problems.

JJ was waiting on the porch, surfboard under his arm when you pulled onto his gravel driveway. Wasting no time he ran over, throwing his board next to yours in the back of your truck before hopping into the passenger seat. He was surprised to not be met with blaring music, but he thought little of it. "Wassup, Cupcake?"

You only shrugged before attempting to put the truck in reverse; however, before your hand could reach the shifter JJ's blocked your action. His brow was knit together in concern. When you didn’t elaborate, he spoke, “Okay, what’s goin’ on?”

“Nothin'…” your hands ran over your face.

"Nah, none of that shit." JJ knew you better than anyone, he knew ‘nothing’ never actually meant nothing, especially coming from you.

Your head hit the wheel with a light thud, "Just assholes at work… The only things worse than Kooks during off-season are these fuckin' tourons..." Your head lifted to look out your windshield, "‘Nice ass sweetheart.' 'Wanna show me around after your shift?' 'Bet I can show you a good time'...” you groaned and rolled your eyes, “Fuckers..."

JJ's tongue pressed into his cheek. "Bastards... They got good taste though," he half-joked, placing an arm around your shoulder, "Maybe I should start coming by during your shift. Let all those tourons know you’re mine." A small smile graced your lips at the thought. “You know I would too.”

“Yeah, I know…” A small sigh left your lungs. “But I don’t wanna think about that now.”

JJ gave you a signature smile and moved his hand from your shoulder to your bare thigh. You couldn’t help but smile back as you made your way out of his driveway and onto the road. He gave your thigh a light squeeze, “Where’s your phone?"

You pointed to the bag sitting at his feet, “Front pocket.”

“I know what'll make you feel better." He dug through the bag trying to find your phone. Once in his hands, he quickly unlocked it and opened your music app. He grabbed the cord connected to your cassette adapter. A soft buzzing filled the cabin before you recognized the familiar sound of a guitar softly picking.

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face. As the song picked up, you and JJ mimicked the drumbeat, slamming your hands on the steering wheel and above the glove compartment respectively. You looked to JJ in anticipation of Mike Shinoda's first verse. JJ was right on cue, his rough voice filled with enthusiasm as he rapped along.

I watch how the moon sits in the sky in the dark night Shining with the light from the sun The sun doesn't give light to the moon assuming The moon's gonna owe it one

You always had a particular music taste, loving almost anything and everything. You were thankful that JJ shared this sentiment. However, there was no denying that Linkin Park was your band, and 'A Place For My Head' was one of your shared favorites off the Hybrid Theory album. The two of you were often heard blasting the song, let alone LP's entire discography, from your truck or the Twinkie. JJ always took Mike's part, rapping smoothly along with the lyrics, while you would scream Chester's parts at the top of your lungs.

Chester’s voice rolled through your speakers and mixed with your voice. You could feel the frustration and pent-up aggression escape with each verse of the chorus.

I wanna be in another place I hate when you say you don't understand (you'll see it's not meant to be) I wanna be in the energy, not with the enemy A place for my head

The bridge of the song hit, and you both were screaming the lyrics with little care for your ears or vocal cords.

You try to take the best of me, go away! You try to take the best of me, go away!

The song faded out, being replaced by your combined laughter as you threw the truck into park.

JJ looked over to you, “Feeling a bit better, kittycat?”

“Maybe a little.” You tried to sound nonchalant, but you knew your smile gave you away.

JJ rolled his eyes, “Sure.” He got out of the truck, practically sprinting over to you, muscled arms pulling you into a tight embrace while his lips pressed lightly against your hair.

“Thank you, JJ,” you whispered before wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss his soft lips.

“Any time.”

As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

OBX Taglist: @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @daisydark

𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 3

[Previous chap][Ao3 chap][Masterlist][next chap]

I wanna say this real quick before this gets any deeper. This fic was my first, so I didn't know a whole lot about Batman and the Batfam? I'm not gonna change anything about it cuz growth and progress and shit like that (also I cringe looking at these first few chapters...) but I know a lot more about the DC verse now and I know some of this to be wildly inaccurate or OOC. I'm not apologizing. I just thought you should know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Galaxies on the brain, Dick wallows in the pain

Sore.

That's all Tim could feel. Sore and tired and heavy and cold. He could feel warm hands (weren't they supposed to be cold?) Holding him by the shoulders and knees. Something soft meets his back and he falls deeper into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim wakes up with a groan. His arm ached like he'd hung by Dick's trapeze for too long, his face felt itchy, and every time he took a breath his chest burned. His eyelids felt like lead and his head filled with cotton, he absently wondered what day he was on of no sleep when he'd finally collapsed.

As his thoughts swam the contents of the previous night (nights? How long was he asleep for?) Started to bubble to the surface of his consciousness. The stakeout, the full-bodied chill and his missing bug leading to the warehouse, sounds of gunshots and a closeup with a steel grey roof. After that, things get fuzzier. He remembered… Green, and white hair? Then an image of a galaxy came to him and he wondered if maybe he really had died.

Something to his right rustled and he struggled to pry open an eye enough to see. Dick was slumped in a chair next to his bed (when did he get to a bed?) reading over what seemed to be police reports. Tim tried to speak but when he went for air he came up in a coughing fit.

Dick's head snapped to attention as his little brother, now awake, tried to hack up what was left of his lung.

"Hey! Hey, Tim, you're okay. You're in the medbay in the Batcave. Calm down and try not to breathe too deeply okay?" Dick soothed as he reached for the glass of water with a straw Alfred had left for when Tim woke up.

As he watched his little brother get his breathing under control and take a small sip from the cup offered Dick felt his nerves settle for the first time that night. His brother was awake. Awake meant alive. Hurt, but alive. He settled back into his chair and shook out a relieved sigh.

"What are you doing here?" Even with the water Tim's voice sounded like he hadn't spoken in weeks.

"I said I'd be in Gotham for the weekend, didn't I? I got the call from your comm and picked you up from the warehouse district."

"Call?" Tim's voice cracked with confusion. "I don't remember sending a distress signal…" He trailed off as another hacking cough wracked through his frame. Dick held out the glass again and Tim gratefully took a longer drink.

"… What do you remember from last night?" Dick asked tentatively.

"I remember… the stakeout, my tracker going missing and following the signal to a warehouse by the docks…" Tim gasped, then cringed as the motion sent a jolt of pain down his front.

"I remember the thieves," he ground out. "I'd found their base of operations… but I was sloppy, I didn't notice one of the goons come up behind me until I'd already knocked him over. Then shit hit the fan… I remember making it out, and running, then I guess I got shot? It gets fuzzy from there…" He huffs, shaking the flashing images of white hair and swirling nebulas clear from his sleep addled mind.

He looks over to see Dick with a serious yet contemplative expression, looking down at the bedrest between them and nothing at all.

Curious and weary, Tim mutters a raspy "Why? Something happen?"

Dick seems to mull something over before shaking his head and looking up with a tired smile.

"Nothing serious enough to discuss right now. Why don't you get some more sleep Timmy? God knows you could use it."

Tim wanted to protest, he really did! But the sound of the heart monitor and that strangely familiar buzzing was already restuffing his head with cotton and his eyelids were getting heavier. That feeling of calm and safe washed over him again, sleep quickly following it. He nodded sluggishly and dove back into dreamland with his last thought ringing in his head; 'huh, the buzz sounds more like a purr now.'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was not freaking out. He wasn't! He was completely fine with being in the freaking Batcave because he was a hero too. Totally normal.

The sound that wanted to escape his throat was not a squeal. Anyone that told you it was is a liar. 

As he floated through the stalactites (stalagmites? He slept through that particular science class.) He had to physically stop himself from dropping his invisibility and glowing with the force of a neutron star. He was in the Batcave! Tucker and Sam would totally freak over this when he told them. Tucker would have an aneurysm over half the tech he'd seen since getting here (not that he wouldn't already have an aneurysm over him not checking in over the last three days) and Sam would have a field day with the aesthetic of the place. He didn't dare stray too far from his—(not his, no, that's not right) the vigilante he's protecting, which was, in fact, Timothy Drake-Wayne??

He has so many questions.

Like, why was Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprise, going around at night as Red Robin?? Not that he thinks it's wrong, or anything. Danny just feels like that's a lot of stress to have on a teenager's shoulders.

He knows from experience.

The fact that he's also seen Nightwing out of costume, as well as Robin, Orphan, and spoiler with their masks off has Danny feeling like he's seen them practically naked. Because, come on, Damian Wayne was Robin, Orphan was Cassandra Wayne, and Dick Grayson was Nightwing? He'd basically just learned Gotham's richest socialite family all lived double lives as superheroes! If he wasn't already fangirling about being in the Batcave ('the freaking Batcave, ancients end him!') he'd be rolling in his grave laughing and crying from the irony.

Kicking off the nearest stalagmite (stalactite? Still no clue) he floats back down to hover just above the main floor housing the Bat Computer (!!!) with Dick Grayson talking to someone on the other end.

"-have listened to him when he first brought it up a week ago, now he's in a hospital bed! Barbara what am I going to do, I feel like this is all my fault." He watched as Dick (Nightwing? Mr. Grayson?) slumped down in his seat and put his face in his hands. That faraway stare listlessly gazing at the keyboard through slits in his fingers.

Before he could startle the man out of his train of thought the woman from the other end of the call—Barbara, he remembered—spoke up.

"You know you can't blame yourself too badly for that, Dick. While the ribbing may have gone a bit further than you'd have liked, you couldn't have been able to save Tim from getting shot. You were still at least an hour outside the city limits when Tim went to follow the lead his… friend gave him." The way she said 'friend' told Danny she still didn't quite believe in his existence yet, and he was okay with that. As long as Red Robin—Tim?—knew he was there to help, he could let the other members of the batclan think he wasn't real.

A loud groan escapes the older man as he leans back to look at the ceiling of the cave.

"I know Babs," he bemoans, "But I still can't get those thoughts out of my head!" He reached up to message his temples with one hand as silence fills the cave. This time Danny is able to help his friends(?) brothers' turmoil by blowing a bit of frost out and directing it to the back of Dick's hand.

Startled, Dick's head whips around to either side of him, spinning the chair around to face away from the bat computer with a wary gaze before slowly rotating back. He stared at his hand, the one that had previously been nursing his headache and the one that had been covered in frost.

At least, he thought it was.

Dick recalls when Alfred had first pulled off Tim's first aid bandages. He hadn't even changed out of his gear, needing to see the extent of the damage to his little brother, only to watch as green tinged blue ice was revealed to be keeping him together. The ice kept the hole from tearing and bacteria from entering his punctured lung. Alfred shared a look with Dick, confirming that he wasn't the only one seeing the strange ice. As they tried to touch the ice though -get a sample for analysis- it, along with the glove being used as a tourniquet, sublimated away to mist. Leaving the now gaping wound in his brother's side and arm to weep blood, slow and thick.

He left for the showers after that. Better to let a professional patch his brother up than someone with shaking hands and blurry vision.

"Do you think Tim's imaginary friend is a meta?" The words escaped Dick's lips before he'd realized he'd thought them. Refocusing as he heard Babs hum pensively.

"With what you've told me about the magic ice that sealed Tim's wounds, it's possible," she mused. The soft tapping if a keyboard registered on the mic as she pulled something up

"The thing is though, there aren't any registered or rumoured metas with an ice-like powerset in or around Gotham. If there were, we'd be seeing more of them somewhere, ice power sets tend to be flashier." More tapping, then a pained huff came through the speakers.

"It doesn't help that I can't seem to restore Tim's footage from after he fell off the roof," she grumbles.

"What do you mean 'can't restore it'? Even with his mask torn the way it was, the cameras in the lenses should've been working fine."

"That's the thing though! His mask only cut after he fell, it was working perfectly up till that point, then this static whine comes on over the audio and the video glitches out before cutting to static until you find him. It wasn't a signal jammer or EMP, both would do damage to more than just his camera, and a jammer would leave a trace of interference." Her groan echoes through the cave, bringing a small smile to Dick's face as she continues.

"The comm too, if something had tampered with it I'd be able to tell! And yet there's no evidence of tampering and I have a recording of some almost unintelligible mess of a voice talking to us over the main line. Right beside ours that come over with perfect clarity. It just doesn't make sense!"

A chuckle couldn't help but escape Dick's lips as Babs let out a defeated huff on her end. Glancing back towards the medbay he recalled the few times Tim tried to tell him about his patrol companion.

"A snowflake in September," he mumbled pensively, gaze sinking down to his hand again. Then with sudden clarity, he whipped his head up and scanned the Batcave more closely than before, squinting up into the dark corners of the high ceiling.

At one point Danny thought Dick had caught him somehow, the odd cold spot in the area. His shoulders sagged in quiet relief when the vigilantes' eyes swept over where he was floating.

A cold spot in a cold cave isn't odd, after all, and the sensors weren't displaying anything unusual.

Dick glanced back to his hand one more time before turning back to the bat computer and telling Barbara he'd give her an update on Tim's situation in the morning. Saying their 'sleep well's' Danny watched as Dick shut off the giant computer, checked in on Tim one more time then headed to the elevator.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim woke up quicker than he had previously. The smell of breakfast wafted to the medbay even from all the way upstairs and his stomach rolled in hunger. Something cold was sitting over Tim's wound, pressing into it but strangely not hurting him in any way. The cold felt familiar, comfortably cool but not chilling, and he could faintly make out a low hum -purr?- coming from somewhere to his left. He cracked one eye open to see both what was in him and the origin of the purr, when the pressure on his wounds released. The lightness around his shoulder probably meant there was another cold comforting thing there he hadn't noticed before. Prying both eyes open fully he looked around the small patient room and realized the purring had stopped and that he was alone. He wasn't awake enough yet to wonder why that was strange, just happy when he heard the ding of the elevator open.

Someone in the Batcave meant he could get some food, after all.

Dick poked his head into Tim's room a few seconds later, a bowl of what appeared to be Cream of Wheat in his hand. He gave a smile, seeing his little brother awake, and let his body follow his head into the room. Setting the bowl down on a pull out table for Tim, Dick chipperly asked "how are you feeling, Timbo?"

"Like I decided taking Bane one-on-one was a good idea," he groaned. Sitting up enough so he could eat, he watched Dick give a half-hearted chuckle while staring into the mid-distance. Half remembering the conversation he had with his older brother last night while spooning the warm cereal into his mouth, he looked around and sarcastically commented between bites, "sooo, you gonna tell me what was on your mind when I woke up before? Or do I have to figure it out myself?"

The comment startled Dick more than it should have, and as Tim frowned at the reaction Dick turned his head, his gaze sweeping the room before he spoke.

"That imaginary friend of yours," Tim cut his brother off with another groan.

"If you're still going to make fun of me for that-" Dick raised his hand, trying to pacify the conversation before he could finish.

"Don't worry Timmers, I believe you now. I should have believed you when you brought it up the first time and I'm sorry for that."

Tim almost groaned again when he felt the tension drop from his shoulders, jostling his arm. He wiggled in his bed to readjust himself before allowing Dick to continue.

"I was going to ask if you knew anything more about them. They've been following you around for a month, right? Do you know if they pose any risk to you or the family?"

Tim shoved another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth, it was bland, but it gave him something to distract him from the fact that Dick had steamrolled over an actual apology and went straight to business.

Shaking his head as he swallowed his mouth full down, he began.

"While I don't know much other than they can apparently make ice from nothing and make things glow, I can say they don't have any ill intent. They saved me Dick, after I fell from the roof they caught me and… I think they got the guys chasing me off my back."

He ignored the images of a black-clad white-haired figure flitting through his mind with another mouth full of cereal.

Dick sighed, none of the bats liked not knowing things about what's happening to them, but the fact that the entity following Tim saved him from a bad fall released some tension from the older birds shoulders.

"So you don't think it would do anything to hurt you? I need to make sure, Tim."

They both shivered as a sudden chill filled the room. Pretending not to notice Tim answered, "no, I don't think the thing that's been following me on patrols, helping me with cases, protecting me for a month would hurt me now after all this time."

Was it weird Tim thought that so surely? A little bit. But with the way the room warmed up just as quickly as it cooled had him realising that maybe he and his brother weren't the only ones in the room. Now that he focused, he could feel the quiet cold sitting behind him.

It had never followed him to the cave before.

'Shit.'

The implications of something potentially dangerous being able to make its way into the Batcave, a heavily protected and monitored fortress of a hideout had Tim shivering for a different reason. If B ever found out, he'd have Tim's neck.

He also realized he could hear the thing purring again. 'Like a big cat,' the thought made him huff a laugh, it certainly did seem like he'd taken in a stray, an invisible, cold, possibly monstrous stray, but a stray nonetheless. The purr grew louder to Tim following his laugh and that same feeling of safety washed over him again, like a blanket.

Tim turned around—really just craned his neck, he couldn't really move otherwise—to try to pinpoint where the purr was coming from exactly, but when he faced away from Dick the comfortable noise stopped dead. The feeling of safety stopped with it, making Tim wonder darkly if the creature was intentionally making Tim think it was safe to gain his trust. He pushed that thought away as soon as it came, if it did intend to hurt him, it would be Tim's fault for trusting it.

Turning back around he found Dick watching him. Mumbling a weak and slightly annoyed "what?" He shovelled another spoonful of the now room temperature cereal.

Dick shook his head. 'So the thing following Tim really did come back to the cave with us,' it didn't bode well for them to have a potentially dangerous sentient creature of unknown origin in the cave, but if his brother thought so highly of the thing, he supposed he could let it stay his secret for now. Dodging the question he drawled, "you know, there isn't any footage on your feed from after you slid off that roof."

The "what?" That came from his brother this time sounded less annoyed and more confused, so he counted that as a win.

"That doesn't make sense, my mask wasn't that badly damaged in my escape, or the display would have told me." He watched his brother's brow furrow in thought.

"Yeah, Babs is pulling her hair out because of it. Apparently after you go over this whine comes over the audio and both cut to static until I find you."

The faces his brother was making would be funny if he weren't so curious about it. Seeing his expression finally land on clarity Dick urged "you know what happened?"

"I think I do," Tim admitted. "I heard a buzzing… it didn't have any source that I can remember, so maybe that's what caused it?"

"A buzzing? That could be it, I didn't hear anything when I found you, so it lines up for when the feed comes back."

Noticing the bowl in front of Tim is now, in fact, empty, Dick figures that maybe now should be where he cuts the conversation. The voice over the comms can be addressed once his brother's gotten some more rest. He stands, takes the bowl from the table and turns to leave when he hears Tim mutter a quiet "wait."

Dick stops paces from the door and turns to face his brother. Tim seems to fight with himself for a moment before he ground out "thanks for believing me, finally."

He doesn't look up to see his older brother's reaction, but the smile could be heard in his voice.

"Of course, Tim, I'm sorry I didn't believe you sooner." With that said, he walks out feeling lighter, and yet with more questions than when he walked in.

Danny watches as Tim sinks into his bed, mindful of his injuries. The bats know about him, with that fact alone he should be leaving, yet even now his core urged him to stay and protect. 

He knows staying is only going to lead to trouble.

He doesn't want to leave.

Leaving means going back to that rundown dump of a townhouse he's been squatting in for the last three months, doing odd jobs around town during the day just to get a bit to eat (not that he needed to eat much with all the ambient ectoplasm in the air) and going back to looking over his shoulder for the GIW or, ancients forbid, his parents.

A soft "hey" breaks him out of his anxious thoughts, and looking over he sees Tim looking in his general direction. The goosebumps on his unbandaged arm tell Danny that he may have made the temperature dip again, unintentionally this time, and he makes a conscious effort to raise it back up to a more comfortable level.

"I know you're there." The sudden admittance made him jump, but Tim continued on, "I know what I saw last night was you. You saved me and I wanted to thank you. Not just for the save, but also the lead on the ghost thieves. For whatever reason you're reluctant to show yourself, and knowing some of my family you have every right to be, but maybe some sign you aren't just some hallucination or actual imaginary thing would be nice? I kinda feel like I'm talking to an actual ghost here." The last bit came out with a chuckle on both ends, Tim for how crazy he feels talking to an empty room and Danny for just how close Tim got with that quip.

Another internal struggle for Danny, oh joy. Revealing himself would be bad, but maybe something small? Tim already knows he makes ice to some capacity, and he's asking so nicely, Danny thought it wouldn't hurt, right?

On the table in front of Tim, where his bland breakfast previously rested a small statuette slowly materialized from condensing mist. Tim watched as the small mound of green tinged ice formed a base, then on nearly invisible supports a nebulous disk spread out. An icy galaxy sat before Tim, about as big as his hand, and it moved. Even after finishing its creation, the edges twisted and swirled in a continuous dance. He could see glittering stars and fluctuating nebulas as tiny clouds of glittering snow.

It was mesmerizing.

Reaching out to touch it, Tim was surprised at how solid it was. It was like touching compacted sand, if they had stuck the sand in an ice box overnight. Ever so gingerly he took the galaxy off its supports and cupped it in his hand. Despite it being made of ice entirely it gave off a strange warmth. It reminded Tim of holding a warm cup of coffee and relaxing with his family. He had to remind himself to breathe as he put the statuette back on its pedestal. The warmth lingered on his palm as he again searched for the cold spot.

It was right in front of him, and he could tell it was watching his reaction. Carefully, he reached out, like he'd done before on that night he'd decided to befriend the strange creature. Unlike before though, his fingers brushed against something. Fabric, he could feel it but there was still nothing to see. His hand slid down what must have been an arm before feeling a fisted hand just over the bed near his thigh. It was tense, and as the cold familiarity of the hand he was holding set in he realized the being sitting on the bed in front of him was afraid. He could feel the quiet anxiety coming off in cold waves, and he had to wonder what it was afraid of.

Tim shifted for better balance and the hand underneath his flinched. Was it… was it afraid of Tim? Afraid of what Tim would do if he knew it was real? That both did and didn't make sense. The being in front of Tim was powerful, he had no doubt it could level all of Gotham if it wanted to, and none of the bats would be able to stop it (not for lack of trying, of course) and yet it was afraid of Tim. Tim, the guys that practically lived off coffee and 5-hour energies, Tim the one that accidentally falls asleep at the batcomputer so regularly Alfred had a specific blanket tucked away just for him. That Tim.

The hand below his flexed again and he realized it must be waiting on an answer. With what he hoped was a reassuring pat to the back of the gloved hand before him, he smiled and snickered, "now, was that so hard?"

The fact that while the hand hadn't moved, the waves of anxious cold he felt warmed up had Tim cheer a silent victory. Trying to look in the direction of where the beings head could be, he continued.

"I get it if you don't wanna show yourself, I really do, but maybe you could keep me company? I probably got six to eight weeks laying in this bed, and I don't know about you, but I'll probably die��of boredom before that's up." He chuckles, and going off of the way he feels the hand underneath him bounce, he guessed the thing in front of him does too.

"So yeah, you're welcome to stay, if you want. Maybe help me pull a prank or two, and I know that no matter what you are, you're going to love Alfred's cooking."

Well shit, Danny basically just got the go ahead to haunt the Wayne family, by one of the Waynes. He feels like he should be honoured? Sure the fact he doesn't want to go back to living in that stupid townhouse is another driving factor, but having a friend that doesn't mind his ghosty bits outside of Sam and Tucker sounds really appealing. It doesn't help that he's been really lonely.

Tim feels the hand slide out from under his. Before he can marvel at the fact they did it without making any sound, or mourn the loss of the comforting cold he watches as the galaxy statuette lifts off its base. The statuette hovers above the table for a few moments, then raises and dips repeatedly, straight up and down. Tim laughs at what could only be described as the floating statue nodding at him, before being set down on its base.

"Well I guess that settles it then," he laughs, "if you're going to be around more often, I'll need something to call you though." The room temperature takes a dive, not as cold as before, but still noticeable.

"Okay, I'm going to guess you either don't have a name, "the room temp doesn't change " or have a name but can't or don't want to say it." The room slowly warms up at that. So it has a name but can't use it. Tim can work with that.

"Well, how about I give you a name until you can tell me your real one? I'm not as good as Damian in naming things but I'm sure I can think of something." A hum heard and Tim begins to think of what he could call his new friend. Remembering the white hair he saw the night before and what was probably the same figure as a nebula had his eyes wandering to the statuette sitting prettily before him. So the being either likes space or space themed things (did it come from space? An actual alien? Just another thing to think about.) Trying to recall the knowledge he gained from the few times he's gone stargazing, a name pops into Tim's head that makes him want to laugh.

"How do you like the name Arcturus? If I remember right it's one of the brightest stars and it looks white when you see it in the sky."

The reaction he gets is instantaneous, a loud purr reverberates throughout the small room and this time Tim does laugh.

"I suppose that's as good of a 'yes' as I'll get. Good to finally meet you Arcturus." He holds out a hand before realizing that a handshake probably wasn't going to happen. Before he could take his hand back he felt the hand he was holding previously snake into his and grip it gently. He smiled and shook it, absently noting the claws he could feel poking at the back of his hand.

"I feel like this will be the start of a beautiful friendship," he grins.

A puff of frost in his face has him snort and grin in the direction of his new friend.

Yeah, this'll be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[sitkowski]

this delicate balance ( noah sebastian x nicholas ruffilo )

pairing: nicholas ruffilio x noah sebastian cw: none. a little bit of angst, mentions of post tour burn out. pretty much just fluff. word count: 860 author's note: more soft boys from my riptide verse. this is set in the same time frame as twin skeletons. title comes from "existentialism on prom night" by straylight run. i think i hurt myself a little bit with this one. divider by @saradika-graphics ✨

⇉ masterpost || taglist signups || the riptide verse masterpost

Waking up without an alarm, without someone telling him where he’s got to be and what he’s got on his schedule is a new concept for Noah lately. The band has been going non stop, and he has to remind himself out loud that this break is for the best. That if they didn’t take it, if he didn’t take it, he was going to become resentful of it all. He’d never been more grateful for the band—his family—than when they told him they were basically making the decision for him, all he had to do was agree to it. And now, here he is, sleeping in and waking up with Lydia tucked into the space behind his knees, and the sounds of Nicholas talking out in the hallway, presumably to Jerry since Dave is sleeping on Nicholas’ pillow beside him.

The door’s already half open, but when it opens more, Noah lifts his head to see Nicholas peeking in.

“I’m up,” Noah murmurs, trying to stretch without disturbing the cats. “What time is it?”

He looks around for his phone, but doesn’t see it. And when he looks to the other side of the bed where Nicholas’ alarm clock usually sits, he sees that something’s been tossed over the display so he won’t see the numbers.

“It’s almost one.” Nicholas says as he comes further into the bedroom.

Noah went to sleep around midnight the night before, and his eyes went wide as he does the mental math. “You let me sleep for thirteen hours?”

“I put your phone in the kitchen too. You needed it, you didn’t wake up once in the middle of the night. Trust me, I checked.”

He can usually sleep that much and more after a tour, but normally he’s ready to bounce back after a day or two. It’s been two weeks, and he still feels the burnout. Never ending jet lag. Not wanting to do anything but sleep and usually that’s pretty fitful the first few nights home before he starts to feel normal. Normal isn’t coming so quickly this time.

Nicholas making sure that he slept fully through the night does something to his heart, and he gently extracts himself from the bed and shuffles over, immediately wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. He feels stupidly grateful, and doesn’t know what to say. That's been happening a lot lately. But he doesn’t really need to say anything, Nicholas knows. Reaching up, he pulls Noah’s head down to press his lips to his forehead.

“Why don’t you shower, and then we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do today.”

It’s not lost on Noah that there is no itinerary, no schedule he’s got to follow. If he wanted to turn around and go back to bed, he could. But he takes a shower, which at least helps him feel a little more awake. When he goes downstairs finally, he makes himself a cup of coffee and takes it out onto the back patio, where Nicholas is sitting with his sketchbook.

“Any plans you wanna make?” he asks, not looking up from his drawing.

Noah gets a little distracted just watching him draw, something he hasn’t had an opportunity to do very often. He wants Nicholas to tattoo him again at some point, he’d give up every last inch of bare skin left over for him to fill in. But he doesn’t realize he hasn’t answered the question until Nicholas is looking up at him expectantly.

“I mean, not really? Half the day is already gone and—”

“Do we need to talk about you deserving things again?”

Noah blushes hotly at that, trying to fight off a smile at the memory of just a few days ago. “Not right this second, no?”

Because he knows the whole point of taking this time off, was to actually try to use the break to relax. And the more he thinks about it, the less guilt he feels about it. There’s not some magic fix, but he’s glad to have Nicholas there with him. As if he’d be anywhere else, he knows he wouldn’t make it through any of this without him.

“You’re gonna wait me out if I don’t give you an answer, aren’t you?”

Nicholas puts down his pencil. “If you wanna do nothing today, then do nothing. It’s entirely up to you.”

“Okay. Let’s order burgers from that hole in the wall place down the road, and do absolutely nothing today.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

Sitting aside his sketchbook, Nicholas starts to get up, probably to go and grab his phone to place the order. But Noah doesn’t let him get far. He sets aside his coffee cup and tugs him down onto his lap.

“One more thing I want today.” Nicholas hums out a questioning noise, smiling. Noah reaches up and pushes his hair behind his ears. “Can I have a kiss?”

Leaning into him, Nicholas loops his arms around Noah’s shoulders, pressing his lips to his cheek. “As many as you want, sunshine.”

Noah pulls his mouth to his, deciding to take him up on that offer. Lunch can wait.

⇉ taglist:

@deathblacksmoke @ladyveronikawrites @circle-with-me @baddestomens

@rumoured-whispers @cookiesupplier @dominuslunae @malice-ov-mercy

if you ’d like to be added to the taglist, you can find the form at the top of this fic! thanks for reading/reblogging 🩷

[targaryenofrph]

Short N Sweet by Sabrina Carpenter Sentence Starters

Some of these will be NSFW. Change the pronouns and tense as needed for your verses.

I leave quite an impression, five feet to be exact

Every time you breathe his air, just know I was already there

You can have him if you like, I've been there, done that once or twice

I know I have good judgment

I know I have good taste

It's funny and it's ironic that only I feel that way

I promise them that you're different and everyone makes mistakes

I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy

Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight

Please, please, please don't prove I'm right

Please, please, please don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another

I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker

Well, I have a fun idea, babe, maybe just stay inside

I know you're craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice

We could live so happily if no one knows that you're with me

Don't mistake my nice for naive

You should stay in my good graces

No one's more amazing at turning loving into hatred

I won't give a fuck about you

I know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed

Left me with a lot of shit to second-guess

If that was casual, then I'm an idiot

I'm looking for an answer in-between the lines

You're lying to yourself if you think we're fine

You're confused and I'm upset, but we never talk about it

You found God at your ex's house

Seems like overnight, I'm just the bitch you hate now

We never talk it through how you guilt-tripped me to open up to you

Without her even being here, she's back in your life

Last week, you didn't have any doubts. This week, you're holding space for her tongue in your mouth

Your car drove itself from L.A. to her thighs

Damn it, she looks kinda like the girl you outgrew

Who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?

I can't relate to desperation

My 'give a fucks' are on vacation

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

He looks so cute wrapped around my finger

You're so dumb and poetic

It's just what I fall for, I like the aesthetic

Every self-help book, you've already read it

Cherry-pick lines like they're words you invented

Just 'cause you talk like one doesn't make you a man

Fuck with my head like it's some kind of fetish

Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic, these are just the thoughts that pass right through me

This boy doesn't even know the difference between "there", "their", and "they are"

Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing, you just get it

You make me wanna make you fall in love

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

One of me is cute, but two, though?

You make me wanna make you fall in love

I showed my friends, then we high-fived

Sorry if you feel objectified

Give me more than just some butterflies

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?

There's no need to pretend

I've never seen an ugly truth that I can't bend

I'm stupid, but I'm clever

Yeah, I can make a shitshow look a whole lot like forever and ever

We love to read the cold, hard facts and swear they're incorrect

We love to mistake butterflies for cardiac arrest

Don't smile because it happened, cry because it's over

You think it's happy hour, for me it's not

I want you to miss me

Try working on you

I promise you'll be much happier if you do

[ahhnini]

annihilate - rafe cameron x spider!reader (spider-verse!au)

synopsis - rafe is your boyfriend, but what happens when you find out he's an anomaly in your universe?

warnings - angst, established relationship, violence, implied sex, implied character death, manipulation

(let me know if I am missing any warnings)

word count - 2.5k

moodboard 𓆇🕸️𓆸

a/n - rewatched the spiderverse movies and felt inspired! this is a mix of the sonyverse and the mcu!!

“goodnight, love you,” you tell rafe before hanging up the call. you strip down your zip-up and sweatpants, revealing your spider suit underneath. opening your window, you shoot a web onto a neighboring building, swinging, beginning your nightly duties.

It has been a tame night so far, you would say. helping a little girl get home safely, stopping a couple of robberies, and giving some pre-teens a lesson about fire safety. miguel hadn’t called you in for any missions, so you’d just been swinging around in your universe.

you ordered a slice of pizza (fully in your spider suit) and ate it on the rooftop of a building. no one, not even your boyfriend rafe cameron knew you were the spider vigilante of the night.

you’ve gotten extremely close with rafe over the school year, him being a transfer from north carolina, and you’ve helped him become accustomed to the hustle and bustle of new york city.

so naturally, you two fell for each other

you wanted to tell him about your secret badly, why you would be away from school for a couple of days, and why you would always abruptly hang up on him at night.

at the same time, you knew you couldn’t. telling one person would be the equivalent of telling the entire world.

“we should go get ice cream after school,” you hear his voice, he sets down his lunch tray right next to you. “we should, huh? we haven’t gone on dates in a while.” he smiles at you, grabbing your hand and rubbing your thumb. you appreciated the little touches he gave you throughout the day. “we should have a date at least once a week, yeah? we can explore the city, find different stuff to do,” rafe digs into his food, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

“yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” you smile at him, biting into your sandwich.

after school, you two took the subway, walking around the block until you found an ice cream parlor. you both ordered, rafe ordering a single chocolate scoop while you ordered vanilla with sprinkles. “wanna hang at my place?” you offered, licking the ice cream beginning to drip down the cone.

you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered.

“uh—yeah, would love to. is your aunt may home?” he asks, looking down at the floor. “yeah, she is,” rafe groans. “I don’t think she likes me,” he pouts and you giggle. “she does! she just takes a bit to warm up to.” you smile at him.

suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and your breathing quickens. something’s wrong. rafe notices, “are you okay?”

“y-yeah…um, I just remembered I left my homework in my locker, you can head to my place—”

“are you sure? you look like you’ve seen a ghost—”

“‘m fine! i’m fine! just, just go!” you shove him aside, running in the opposite direction. you turn back, seeing rafe scratch his head, staring at you.

please don’t follow me. please don’t follow me.

you run towards an alley, quickly putting your backpack on the floor and opening it up. you take out your spider suit and put it on, feeling the material hug your body. you shove your school clothes in your backpack and swing towards whatever is making your senses flare up.

you see it. an anomaly, terrorizing the streets of new york. you see the familiar green uniform, the green goblin. a variant of it. it wasn’t your green goblin, but rather, another universe’s. people flee the streets, hiding in nearby shops.

your attack on the green goblin was a surprise to them. you kicked them right across the stomach and began webbing their torso to restrict movement. thankfully, it worked, you dragged them to a secluded area so you could portal them back to their universe. you tapped on your watch, letting your boss, miguel, know that you’d gotten the job done.

you were so tired. you haven’t fought an actual villain in such a long time. out of all the universes, why’d you have to be in the one that was so boring? after you sent the anomaly back to its universe, you went back to the alley where you’d left your backpack…where someone had stolen it. along with your ice cream. shit. you can’t be in two places at once, right?

rafe still couldn’t be at your apartment after the incident, you thought. it was all over the news, footage of your battle playing out. mr. and mrs. cameron would’ve called him home by then.

they didn’t.

you snuck into your bedroom, quietly opening the window, webbing your way inside, careful to not make any noise. when you made it to the middle of your room, you sighed in relief.

but then you turned around.

rafe stared at you, wide-eyed and mouth agape. he shook his head as if he was dreaming. “what the hell are you still doing here?!” you whisper-shouted. “your aunt may talked to my parents! they wanted me to go home as soon as they heard what was going on but she talked to my parents, convinced them that I had to stay here ‘cus she ‘didn’t want anything to happen to me’” he makes finger quotes in the air, eyes still gawking at you. “I can’t believe you’re the spider-hero I see on youtube. does may know?” his voice suddenly grew. you quickly hushed him, “no! she doesn’t! keep it down!”

you quickly dig through your drawer, finding random clothes. you begin to strip down in front of rafe, not caring that he’s currently seeing you in your intimates. quickly putting on a shirt and shorts, you shove your spider suit inside your closet, along with your watch.

“please, don’t tell anyone about this rafe!” you begged, putting your hands together. “I won’t promise.” “good”

may burst inside, looking disheveled. she immediately runs up to you, checking to see if you're hurt. “no call, no texts, what were you thinking?!”

you bite your lip, immediately coming up with an excuse, “I know, i’m sorry, I got back on campus when it first started happening and everyone there got put on lockdown. and you know how our school blocks phone signals—”

you felt so guilty. may was the only person in your family left and you were lying to her. she pulled back, relief etched on her face. “it’s okay, thank god you’re safe. where’s your backpack?!”

“uh I…lost it…” you reply sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. may sighs. you hear sizzling coming from the kitchen and gasping, she immediately runs off. you turn back to rafe, his things already packed. “i’m heading off for the night, i’ll see you tomorrow,” he pulls you in for a hug, craning down to whisper in your ear, “your secret is safe with me.” he gives a polite goodbye to aunt may before exiting your apartment.

“c’mon, we’re going out to eat. i burnt the lasagna.” may chuckles as she fans the pan, your little home smelling like burnt food.

the next day, you’re at rafe’s house. he’s asking you all these questions about your superpowers, and you can’t help but giggle in response to some of them.

“do you lay spider eggs?”

“ew, no, that’s never happened before.”

“how far can you shoot your webs?”

“i’m not sure”

“can I see your suit?”

you chuckle as you reveal your spider suit in your bag. during dinner, aunt may have told you she’s had enough of buying you backpacks, so she gave you one of her old canvas bags to use for school.

your watch rings, and you see miguel’s face pop up. rafe’s eyes widen and you chuckle nervously. “that’s uh, my boss…excuse me for a moment.” quickly exiting his room, you make your way to the nearby restroom to answer the call.

“there’s been a reported anomaly in your universe, I need you to hop on it. he’s from universe 664, and he’s highly dangerous. I can’t believe we just found him. we’ve been looking for him for months.” miguel rambles.

“who is it?” you ask, ears perking up.

"we have his file with a picture on it for reference, it should’ve already been sent to you. when you capture him send him right to hq so we could eliminate him.”

“okay, thanks miguel. i’ll get to it asap.” you see him nod at the other end of the call before hanging up. you sigh before pressing a couple of buttons on your watch to bring up the file.

you couldn’t believe your eyes. the anomaly was…rafe?

you reentered his room, silent.

“you okay?”

no.

how were you supposed to do this?

“yeah, duty calls, i’ll talk to you tomorrow,” you say quietly.

this can’t be right. why was your web fluid…watery? you swear you perfected this batch of web fluid, you even tested it out in your locker during lunch. you kept shooting your webs, hoping it’s just the chemical compound of the new formula and it’ll somehow, become sticker when it clings to the building. your optimism was shattered when your canisters became lighter.

you’ve been pacing around your complex rooftop for the past two hours, thinking about rafe. capturing him and sending him back to his universe would’ve been easier as you still could visit him. you couldn’t get the words miguel said out of your mind.

send him to hq so we can eliminate him.

eliminate him.

you shake your head, laying down on the concrete ledge, looking up to the stars, hoping tomorrow you'll wake up and this mission will just be a dream.

the pressure weighed heavy. you couldn't concentrate, your boyfriend noticed. he furrowed his eyebrows as he kissed you all over your body, rough hands gripping your sides. you shoved him aside, letting out a puff of air. rafe turned his body towards you, gently moving the hair that fell on your face. he calls your name, "hey, talk to me." shaking your head, you turn away, facing your bedroom window. he wraps his arm around your torso, pulling you close to him. he inhales a sharp breath, softly speaking, "i'll be here when you're ready to talk, 'kay?" nodding your head, you stare out into the concrete jungle, closing your eyes.

he knows. he knows that the spider society assigned him as your mission. he knows they'd never make you kill him yourself, so they're gonna make you send him to the society so the other spiders could kill him. how considerate.

rafe felt bad, real bad when he bugged your suit. while you were taking your call with miguel a couple of days ago, he broke into your bag and tweaked your web shooters, causing the formula to become less sticky. it was sick, but he had to do everything in his power to delay you from your mission.

of course, he knew who you worked for. miguel o’hara. that name left a bitter taste on his tongue. they do have history after all. how can a man like him not pay the repercussions of destroying an entire universe, and be looked up by so many others, while he’s villainized? it’s just not fair.

in his universe, he was spider-man. he was a hero. that all changed when you came into his life. he fell for you, hard.

then you fell for him. literally.

when your body was flung off the clock tower, his mind raced a million miles per hour. you were gone. the love of his life. he spiraled, falling into obsession with the fact that you were gone because of him.

deep in his grief, he began wondering the “what-ifs.” using his scientific knowledge, he created technology that brought a hologram of you back to him.

but it wasn’t enough.

he needed to physically hold you, he needed someone with true emotions, not just a ghost of you.

then he discovered the multiverse.

universes where you’re alive, where you’re with him.

he became jealous.

he traveled through different universes, coming in contact with all the different lives you were living.

they weren’t good enough. they weren’t you.

he was relentless, finding every universe you were in, not giving a damn about the consequences. that's when he stumbled upon your universe.

and it was like you never left.

taking the life and identity of your universe's rafe cameron was a simple task for him. he had the same family, the same friends, and the same personality. it was a complete parallel of his own.

he gently rubbed your back while you slept. how could the society do this to you? you told him you haven't been getting that much sleep, so being the good boyfriend that he is, he put you to sleep using his signature method. poor thing, there's so much weight on your shoulders right now.

“miguel, stop calling me!” you exclaimed. you were hiding in one of the restroom stalls, unexpectedly running out of the classroom in the middle of a lecture.

he sharply glares at you through the screen, “you need to hurry on this mission, he’s starting to cause problems in your universe,” he sighs before saying your name, “people are starting to disappear, cities are starting to collapse.”

your eyes widen.

“layla told us if you don’t bring him to headquarters by tonight, your entire universe will collapse,” he replies, abruptly hanging up the call.

your breathing quickens, chest rising up and down. you clutch your shirt, trying to calm yourself.

you storm out of the building, heading towards who knows where.

after long hours of pondering and anxiety building up, you approach the cameron house, getting ready to ambush rafe. seeing him take a nap from his window, you stopped in your tracks.

was this worth it?

killing your boyfriend for the sake of the universe sounded like the unique ultimatum. but what would happen if…you didn't send him to miguel? yeah, your universe would meet its end but…you get to be with rafe. besides, letting the society kill rafe would become an endless cycle. you'd look for him in every universe, ultimately destroying them as well. then you'd become the anomaly, and then you'd have a target on your back.

they'll kill you too.

but at least you'll be with rafe, right?

climbing the rooftop and propping the window open, you sneak inside, tiptoeing to his bed, you hold your watch out, preparing to send him through a portal.

you turn over to his nightstand, seeing his lamp glitch with vibrant colors.

tears brim in your eyes as you put the watch down, and gently wake up rafe.

"hey…" you softly say, gently shaking his shoulder. he turns around, smiling.

"why do you have your watch on?" he mumbles, pulling you closer to him.

you don't respond, instead laying down on the bed, facing him. he smiles and tucks your hair behind your ears. "did you miss me?"

"yeah"

this is the last time you'll be seeing him, anyway.

looking at the wall behind him, colors start phasing in and out.

rafe buries his head in your neck, relishing your scent. you pull away, taking one last glance at him.

it felt like nothing. the world you grew up in was quickly disappearing, but the world you've known to love was still in front of you. you hold rafe's face, pulling him for a kiss as you both disappear into nothingness.

divider credits - sseuda on tumblr

[angelmichelangelo]

right around the corner II

verse: 2012/2018 rating: g words: 16k series: part two of home we go

x

“Are you sure it isn’t just another stray again, Don?” Raph’s voice carries itself loudly through the length of the empty sewer tunnel, a hint of teasing webbed around his words, evident also in the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards into a slight smile, Donnie scoffs in response, quickening his steps to further the distance between them.

He glances down at the mutagen tracker in his grasp, the little green dot blinking up at him in quick succession. “Pretty positive,” he replies in a flat tone. He steps around a shallow pool of dirty sewer water. Something small and dark bobs around at the surface. Raph follows suit close behind him. “This thing wouldn’t have just gone off for another cat or rat.” They walk in silence for a little while. They pass an open storm drain that lends itself to a sliver of morning light that comes through, dots of dust float around in its wake before Raph slices through it with his body. “But… but where would a mutant come from, Don? One that we don’t know about, I mean.” Donnie glances over towards him to watch the shape of his more pronounced jut of his throat bob with uncertainty. “It’s just us down here. Right?” That had been the case for the last ten years of their lives. No more Kraang or Shredder or imposing alien invasions. Their biggest posed threat these days were pulled muscles and sore heads after a good beat down with a few rouge Purple Dragons, mostly because they weren’t kids anymore. And being so close to thirty was a chore, on both the body and soul it appeared, especially when you were a ninja that spent so much of your youth flipping about pulling ridiculous stunts. It all caught up to you, one way or another. Donnie sighs. The dot grows bigger on his screen, continuously blinking with vigor. “I can’t imagine we’ve gone this long without any knowledge about any secret mutant roaming about the sewer,” he says. He looks up. There’s a fork where the tunnel splits off. He pauses only for a brief moment before he moves towards the left side, Raphael follows wordlessly. “But never say never,” he adds, voice dropping a careful octave.

They keep moving through the dark still of the tunnel. The stench down here is more pungent than usual, mostly because it’s so hidden away from where any sewage worker might find themselves. It’s clear that it’s an untouched part of the underground in the way that trash and the corpses of whatever poor rodent had succumbed down here lines the edges of the walls, pushed aside as they make way of the path ahead of them. 

Raph carefully toes the bones of what looks to have been a mouse, with a grimace. “Maybe there’s a reason we ain’t found this thing yet,” he says. He gags a little when the strong odor grows heavy and thick in the air. “Dude. This place reeks. Even for a sewer.”

Donnie hums in agreement, maybe to save having to swallow down any of the stink himself, he refrains from verbally responding. The dot winks dangerously at him now.

“I feel sorry for whatever sucker is living down here,” Raph says sadly as they carry on. “Like. Really sorry.”

Donnie huffs. The sour air tickles the back of his throat and he has no choice but to swallow it down. “Raph, be quiet. We don’t know what’s down here and we don’t wanna—”

Something in the shadows shifts. The sounds of empty, hollowed out cans clank together and there’s a soft whimpering cry following after it. Years of ninja reflexes kick in at once as both turtles make a grab for their respective weapons. The blunt metal of Raphael’s sai’s wink in the dim light.

“Careful,” Donnie whispers. His mind supplies him with flashes of old memories of mutant squirrels and his gut churns at the thought. He edges half a step closer nonetheless.

Raph is the first to step forward and whatever lurks ahead of them whimpers at the sight. Donnie’s white knuckles grip on his staff seems to loosen. This… this isn’t a monster.

“Hey,” Donnie says softly. Raph hesitates before turning to face him. “I don’t. I don’t think it’s dangerous. I think it’s—”

There’s a sharp hiccup of breath and the cans rustle again and Raph’s spinning around in an instant, in the same motion he’s also dropping his brandished fists by his sides as the source of the noise slowly clears the shadowy corner of the tunnel. 

Stepping forward is a tiny mutant turtle, a scruffy, yet distinguishable orange bandana wrapped around the top of his little head, thumb wedged in the corner of his mouth and big, round ember eyes sparkling with fresh tears, Donnie feels his heart drop to his feet in mere seconds. “Oh.” Raph says blankly as he stares uselessly at the tot. “Oh, shit.”

continue reading on ao3!

[valentine-cafe]

Hello, hello!

That one anon got me inspired. Can we get 781 Rishen going ham on his 209 variant?

Maybe the poor guy's had a bit too much on his plate that day, and his variant decided to add on to the trouble as well. I wanna see the mad scientist cry :) (affectionately, of course)

-🙇

˖⁺. ﹙ the hybrid hero & the hybrid mad scientist. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . aw, are you crying? !! 🍒 :   hero ˖ nerd ˖ mantis-moth-spider hybrid character & spider-moth-mantis hybrid ˖ mad scientist ˖ yandere character﹙ verse 781 rishen ft. 209 rishen. ﹚

rishen 781 displaying his ruthlessness to any of his variants is a feat people can only hope to never experience themselves

𖹭. ps : okay but rishen is such a mean girl help me thank you for giving me this opportunity to write him being a bitch

“more quiet than usual, aren’t you?”

a tut leaves the older as he circles the one bound. head hung low and a deep sigh leaving his lips. as though this is another simple monday blue. as though he has not been kidnapped from his very verse and dragged to one he despises.

“nothing to say to me?” the murmur from rishen 209 drips with mocking. a bitter venom spoken with honeyed tones as two of his delicate fingers push under his variant’s chin. lifting it so that maroon eyes that mirror his face him.

“or is that fear? defeat? my, I never would have expected such from the oh-so-valiant hero.”

a cold snap fills the air. rather than tears. than a twist of expression. tired begs to be left alone -

rishen 781’s brows narrow. and with a tight jaw - he mutters lowly. calmly.

“look. . . I get it.”

lips pulled into a frown as he begins, he speaks slowly. almost too clearly.

“the sight of me ticks you off. it irks you. to see yourself so full of life. with many more opportunities.”

209 arches his own brow. a strained smile finding his lips. as though he found these words absolutely amusing. the height of comedy - in fact. pathetic.

“don’t flatter yourself.”

“one of us ought to do it.”

it blows the scientist’s eyes wide open. fingers that raised a chin now tighten around the younger’s jaw. tight, a warning. as he gives the other a rough shake. “and what is that supposed to me?”

to his dismay, a smile forms on rishen 781’s lips. an elevator look thrown the other’s way. as though he couldn’t make this any worse.

“look at yourself. is self-flattery even something you know?” a strained chuckle leaves him. “please. if that was the case - I wouldn’t be here huh? eres el mismo niño pequeño buscando una cura. es patético.” ( you're the same little kid looking for a cure. it's pathetic. )

the click of his tongue sends 209 into a frozen state. blood running cold. his ears ringing. for a moment - he can all but stare. his grip falters in the slightest - and all 781 does is chuckle. laugh.

“I mean. I get it. you have to drag me along every now and then to keep your husband entertained? god knows you can’t do it yourself. where’s he now huh? did you two fight again? is he finally leaving you for the roach you are?”

it hit a bit too close to home. perhaps it was the fact that it was a version of his younger self saying it straight to his face. someone that looked like him. sounded like him.

“he’ll race over if he knows I’m here. why don’t you call him? are you two fighting?”

oh, but 781 does not stop there. he chases closer in his binds. craning his head. with a twinkle of maroon smile and that damned. sweet. smile.

“face it. nunca serás yo. inténtalo todo lo que quieras. es divertido ver la definición de locura y estupidez.” ( you'll never be me. try all you want. it's fun to see the definition of insanity and stupidity. )

and when the tears fall. all that fills the air is a scoff.

“what? admitting defeat?”

[witchbugs]

hello beloved mutuals u’ll never guess what character this post is about. to celebrate the episode betty’s ten year anniversary of existence here is a annotation of sorts (?) of my betty playlist (<- talking to empty audience) warning this makes increasingly less sense

starting off strong with betty (a little bit of madness) by half shy !!!!! we dont appreciate this song enough THERE IS A SONG ABT HER !!!!!! BY SOMEONE WHO WROTE MUSIC FOR THE SHOW :3 dont even have to say anything abt this one

THE MOON WILL SING BY THE CRANE WIVES. ITS THE. THE I COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE ELSE. I SPENT SO MUCH TIME DEDICATED TO SIMON IM NOT SURE THERES EVEN ANY ME LEFT ANYMORE. shaking like a rabid dog do we get the vision

the deal by mitski !! this one is just sooo betty fusing with golb ok trust me

& by tally hall!! this one is solely for the outro tbh 😭 BIG BAD BETTY OF THE POCALYPSE, SHE OPENS HER LIPS AND IT GOES LIKE THIS ‼️🔥🔥

I BET ON LOSING DOGS BY MITSKI. GODDD THIS IS THE ONE THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST. III BET ON LOSING DOGSS, I KNOW THEYRE LOSING AND I PAY FOR MY PLACE BY THE RING. simon/ice king ok. are we seeing the vision. and dont even get me STARTEDDD on i always want u when im finally fine… ITS THE WAY SIMON WAS INSANE AND WHEN HE WAS FINALLY HIMSELF AGAIN SHE WAS GONE. EATING GLASS. and FINALLY the SOMEONE TO WATCH ME DIE. GODDDD.

curses by the crane wives! I JUST THINK IT FITS OK :3 the devils after both of ussss OUGHGUH

no eyed girl by lemon demon, gonna be so real idk how to explain this one. we’re just vibing

i’m your man by mitski. yes theres a lot of mitski. this is on my petrigrof playlist as well and i think it could be from either pov tbh. LIKE the first verse is betty i think and the second is simon’s suicidal ass in fionna and cake

running up that hill (a deal with god) by kate bush :3 this ones just OBVIOUSSS id make a deal with god… GET HIM TO SWAP OUR PLACES…..

my girlfriend is a witch by october country ! just for sillies. magic betty ily forever and ever

love, me normally by will wood! dont know how to explain this one either tbh bc will wood lyrics scramble my brain but in a pleasant way. idk i just think shes full of autism and also magic insanity

sick of losing soulmates by dodie! OUGHGHG. another more petrigrof centered one but mannn . I CAN FINALLY SEE UR AS FUCKED UP AS ME SO HOW DO WE WIN. I WONT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER. lighting myself on fire

death thrice dawn by the scary jokes! ngl i dont remember adding this one but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ tossing this verse at u

wife by mitski!!!! is this a stretch. idc idc. ur home to mee if i am not urs what am iiii

goodbye, my danish sweetheart by mitski !! guhh magic betty and “i’m sure that uve seen what its done to my heart” and “im not the girl i ought to be” and “you can tell them what u saw in me and not the way i am” ☹️ ANDDD could we just be what we’re meant to be, im just about to beg u pleaseew ☹️💔

i guess by mitski GODDDD so proud of her for moving on and idk learning to pass the bechdel test i GUESS but im GOINJ TO EAT FIBERGLASS

ANDDD THATS THE END !!! FOR NOW !!! there will be more songs on this playlist later :3 if u read this ily and i will probably do this w/ my petrigrof playlist at some point :3

[bigbumder96]

account introduction thing!!!??

ngl i feel a bit goofy doing this🙁

general:

name: darcie

age: im a minor😭

gender: girl (she/her :3 )

sexuality: lesbian

from/live in: england unfortunately😣 east london specifically, or essex depending on if u focus on the postcode or the london borough😭 officially its east london tho

interests:

tv shows:

- the inbetweeners

- white gold

- station 19 (still have to catch up on the latest episode lmao

- 9-1-1 (also still have to catch up one episode😭)

- fresh meat

- ted lasso

- heartbreak high (both the old version and the reboot !!! i dont prefer one over the other, although i do tend to post about the 90s one more lmaooo)

- friday night dinner

- this country

- call the midwife

- ackley bridge

- baby reindeer (i wouldnt exactly call it an interest, this show fucking traumatised me, but i watched it like last week😭)

- phoenix rise

- moment of eighteen (a k-drama btw!!)

- move to heaven (also a k-drama!!)

- there she goes

- benidorm

- skins (only gen 2 tho im afraid😞)

- the inBESTigators (dont judge lmfao😭😭😭)

- little lunch (i cant theyre js both such good shows)

- dodo (a cartoon)

- taskmaster (only season eight tho for the icon joe thomas‼️)

- mr bigstuff

- supacell

im currently watching derry girls and jamie johnson atm !!

films:

- the shawshank redemption

- the green mile

- goodbye charlie bright (my absolute fav omg)

- the business

- the football factory (theyre making the sequel to this at my school im so happy i love nick love films😍i didnt see nick love himself tho💔)

- good will hunting

- bohemian rhapsody

- dead mans shoes

- ferris buellers day off

- harry brown

- little miss sunshine

- the inbetweeners movie

- the inbetweeners 2

- white chicks

- the basketball diaries

- mid90s

- spiderman: into the spider-verse

- spiderman: across the spider-verse

music:

- alex g (fav song: too many to put here, but if i had to pick then prolly the whole race, trick, and rules album, as well as hope (the song) and bobby (also the song)😭)

- tv girl (fav song: better in the dark, louise, and daughter of a cop)

- the fratellis (fav song: for the girl)

- the killers (fav song: read my mind and andy youre a star)

- the smiths (fav song: girl afraid, bigmouth strikes again, and this night has opened my eyes. guys i swr i liked them songs before they got popular im acc rly annoyed at the tiktofication of bigmouth strikes again and this night has opened my eyes😣)

- queen (fav song: spread your wings and long away)

- the stone roses (fav song: i wanna be adored and made of stone. basic i know😣😣)

my ALL-TIME FAV - the jam (fav song: when youre young, eton rifles, pity poor alfie / strangle, david watts)

- oasis (live forever. icba to type ‘fav song’ anymore😭)

- mitski (why didnt you stop me, goodbye my danish sweetheart, me and my husband, your best american girl, once more to see you, etcetera…)

extras:

- im into football and i am a big arsenal fan !!!! my fav player is def martin ødegaard, and i may or may not be one of those deluded emile smith-rowe fans who think that hes gonna have a huge comeback and be like he was two seasons ago🤫🤫🤫

(edit: im gonna kms he left arsenal🙁)

i also support england as a country (obviously) plus a tad bit of dagenham amd redbridge, because they are my local ! (before you call me a glory hunter, ive supported arsenal since i was 3 because thats what my mum and grandparents support!!! also its a bit hard to support your local when not all the games are televised and you cant afford a season ticket, not to mention i had no clue who dagenham and redbridge were when i was choosing a football team, because i had no clue how leagues worked and i didnt gaf about football tbh💀)

- i like webtoons! my fav is jacksons diary, our walk home, and crystal city killers😱 (please does anyone have any cute wlw webtoon recs im so desperate)

- in year seven my drama teacher made us watch a play (on the screen, not irl) called slowtime but we didnt get to finish it💔my teacher spoiled the ending but i didnt care and tracked down the rest of that video bcs slowtime is such a good play i love everything abt it😍

- last year i was obsessed with this book series called football academy (written by tom palmer) and it was genuinely so good but there was nobody myp age cuz it was for kids💔i dont rly read them anymore, but the interest is still there if someone by chance has read them please contact me and have a conversation with me about it🙏🙏🙏

- i also have a very obscure interest about london boroughs??? like i dont even know a lot about them, i just love talking about/watching videos about london boroughs... i blame the lb guy on tiktok

i apologise as this was very long, and i probably wont even post that much😭 sorry for the yapping tho🙏🙏🙏

[judeiscariot]

ive been thinking abt that post u made abt will’s line delivery in sinner…… do u have any other favorite line deliveries specifically, not necessarily lyrics??

im so glad you asked i actually have a whole list but here’s some highlights:

- yeah like you said the ‘she’ll open her mouth and eat me alive’ at 4:14 in sinner gives me chills

- the ‘i love you i love you i love you’ at the very end of the ballad of the costa concordia always gets me, he says it so softly :( also the ‘i give up’ refrain right before that last verse is so good

- the whole refrain in the second half of beach fagz but especially the ‘i wish i was a kid with an adult boyfriend’ at 4:40 into the ‘i wish i was dead / i wish oh i wish’ refrain all the way through the end

- the ‘i am love / i wanna sleep naked’ part in the live version of cute thing!!!! and the ‘like some excommunicated priest casting demons’ part at the very end

- the second pre chorus in destroyed by hippie powers, very specifically the live version from their pitchfork music festival performance

- every ‘i feel so haaauuuunnnnteddddd’ in boxing day

- the ‘i hate you’ refrain in kid war. enough said.

- sooo much of the gun song but esp the ‘i want you to fuck me in your sleep / it’s the only way i’ll ever knowwwwwwwww that you love me’ and the whole ‘i remember i was walking around outside talking to you on the phone’ verse

- the ‘i will go to heaven / you wont go to heaven / i will go to heaven / i wont see you there’ and ‘it’ll be alright (FUCK)’ parts in cosmic hero

- THE BRIDGE OF TIMES TO DIE….. especially the ‘hey man we listened to your demos’ in the background at 3:11 and 3:20 good god

- the ‘i don’t want to go insane / i don’t want to have schizophrenia’ and the ‘there are lots of fish left in the sea there are lots of fish in business suits’ parts in beach life-in-death

- the ‘we gotta go back’ refrain in famous prophets (stars) starting at 3:12 the way the vocals mount in intensity and the yell at the end is orgasmic to me. also the whole end part starting with the ‘descend into cliche / if you’ve found your holy grail’ verse and ending with the last ‘did they tell you / did they tell me’……… the way he uses polyphony is one of my favorite parts of his music and this is such a good example. ANDDD the screams starting at 13:24 omg. like i can literally taste the catharsis

- the ‘they were connected / at the back of the head’ part at 3:20 of twin fantasy (those boys). also the whole ‘when i come back you’ll still be here’ part but an absolute all time favorite is the ones in the background at 5:39 and 5:47 . makes me feel physically sick every single time no matter how many times i listen to it

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  Make It Do (Or Do Without)

Series: Supernatural B-Sides

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Rating:  Explicit

Pairing:  Dean Winchester/Claire Novak

Synopsis: What if Dean encountered a different Hunter during the S10 finale? Someone who wound up shoving him further along his downward spiral?

Tags:  Dean Winchester, Claire Novak, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Mark of Cain, Hurt No Comfort, Hatefucking, Songfic

AN:  Song is "Pain To Me," by Deathline International off the album 'Arashi Syndrom. The final line of the second verse might as well be the Team Free Will motto, for better or worse. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

Pushing steel in my heart, Do you know what you're doing? I’m still breathing I don't know how, Only dreams are soothing. Desperate tears. Stirring my emotions. Fantasy meets reality-- wiping me. --- Claire held her breath as the bartender checked her “ID” but the gamble paid off-- the bartender was too slammed and too stressed to give it a good look and served Claire her vodka and Red Bull without a blink. She slipped him a ten and went back to the dark dance floor to writhe and grind with the rest of the meatsuits. She’d done her makeup heavy and her clothes were too small and worn to rags, leaving her all nice and vulnerable-looking. Chase me, she thought, easy pickings, I’m just a little baby . . .

Her prey bit in minutes. Something about Claire just screamed monster bait, she’d come to learn. Tonight’s specimen was tall and lanky, head-to-toe black with black nail polish and spikes through one eyebrow. Claire let him reel her in, let him breathe dirty nothings against her neck, let him pull her outside to the darkest shadows of the alley. Let him push her to her knees. Blow a monster? She’d done worse. Dignity was a luxury Claire had left behind a while ago. Make it do or do without, Grandma’s answer to everything. Parents gone, home cancelled, future erased-- make it do or do without.

She reached where she’d stashed her machete, and it wasn’t there. “Oh shit.”

“What’s the matter sugar?” her prey asked, caressing her face. “Wanna take this somewhere a little more private?”

A new voice, deep and ice-cold. “No.” Claire jumped to her feet as someone chopped and the vampire’s head rolled. Blood sprayed and covered Claire in fine splatters. The blade flashed and another head rolled. This one had long blonde hair like hers, it flowed like a comet’s tail.

A hard hand grabbed Claire’s arm and she almost fell as the owner dragged her from the scene. She twisted, crying out, “Let go of me!”

Instead she was yanked in an arc. Losing her balance, she fell and skinned her knees and palms.

“Get up.” Claire glared from her place on the ground, up into the angry face of -- of course -- Dean Winchester.

“What’re you doing here?” Claire hissed.

“Saving your stupid fucking life, again. Get up.”

Did the word fuck just pass those lips?

Shock made her obedient and she stumbled to her feet. Dean grabbed her by the triceps, that move-it-along pinch cops liked to use. Claire squeaked in pain. “Shit-- ow! You’re hurting me!”

Dean strode faster and pulled harder. “Thanks to that little show you put on inside every cop in the state’s going to be looking for you by morning. I should just let them arrest you. A nice hard bang in grownup jail,” he grunted as he opened a car door and shoved Claire inside, “might actually teach you something about consequences.”

“What the hell are you and where’s the real Dean?” Claire asked. It was supposed to sound like a joke. Instead it came out scared. Stone killer he might be but Clare would’ve bet anything he’d never--

“All me,” Dean said as he plopped behind the wheel, “just dead-bang out of patience with your bullshit, Novak. You wanna kill yourself put a pistol in your mouth and get it over with. I’ll burn the body and tell Jody you went down fighting instead of being stupid. Now shut up or I swear I’ll punch your lights out. I mean it.”

Claire sat up and opened her mouth to protest, until she got a good look at Dean as he started driving. She wiped her stinging palms on her leggings and glared out through the window. Tried to remember she was a tough cookie who could handle anything. Tried to remember this was just Dean and he’d never--

He wouldn’t--

He couldn’t--

That wasn’t--

She kept running into walls. --- You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. --- Dean drove through night-black exurbs and shopping districts, the occasional streetlight making everything else look even darker. No radio, no small talk, no lectures on expired pop culture crap or condescending life advice. No updates on Castiel or complaining about his brother that way siblings did just to blow off steam. Just silence.

“Where’s Sam?” Claire asked, once.

“How the hell should I know?” Dean said.

“Wow, just-- I mean--”

“You’re not too bright are you? Which part of ‘shut up’ are you struggling with?”

Claire shrank in her seat, and hated herself for doing it.

Finally in the wee hours Dean pulled over at a basic fleabag motel with the sign half-out. “Come on. We’re gonna get a few hours rack time. Your gear’s in the trunk.” When Claire didn’t move, Dean leaned back into the car through the open driver’s door. The look of cold impatience in his eyes shone her unease into nice shiny fear. “Move it.”

The hell with her stuff. Claire opened the car door and sprinted for the road.

Dean tackled her and Claire went down hard. “I told you,” he grunted, “to behave.”

“Help!” Claire shrieked. “Help!”

Stars burst across her vision as Dean slapped her. She didn’t lose consciousness, not completely. Her face hurt too much for her to do anything but flop around as Dean got to his feet and hauled Claire up over his shoulder. He went inside the room and slung Claire on one of the beds like a rolled-up rug.

Without so much as a raised eyebrow Dean caught Claire’s wrist as she charged him with her pocketknife. He slammed her against the wall, her arm stretched up over her head. “Definitely didn’t get your brains from your father’s side,” he grunted.

“You don’t say shit about my father,” Claire hissed. “I knew it. You’re just a fucking monster.”

“Right. Monster,” Dean said, and he leaned into her harder. Claire fought for air as his weight squeezed her ribs. His knee came up between hers, pressing a thigh up between her legs. “The guy who killed your pimp,” Claire felt tears fall from her eyes as he dug into the crusted-over wound, “ and the john he was trying to sell you to is a monster.”

“Fuck you,” Claire spat. It wasn’t working, the rage wasn’t eating the fear. She was still scared. Backspace that, she was goddamned terrified. And Dean wasn’t moving. He looked like he was fine right where he was, studying her like he was thinking of eating her raw. “Randy cared about me, even--”

“Randy,” Dean snarled, “didn’t give a damn about you except for the money you could make him. The only reason he didn’t whore you out sooner is he had fresher meat. What was her name? Wendy?” Claire swallowed. “Yeah, I know about her. She turned a bad trick and turned up dead with her face burned off.”

“You LIE!” Claire cried.

“Look it up if you want. What’d Randy say about what happened? The funeral was closed-casket, am I right?” Claire ducked her head as a sob twisted in her chest. She’d done her best to forget Wendy like Randy had told her to, she’d believed him when he said baby sister died in an accident so bad it was better-- “You know what you were worth to him? To Randy? Five grand. That’s it. That’s,” Dean hummed like he was figuring something up and Claire would’ve sold her soul to put her knife in his neck, “about two weeks of hustling pool, a good night at the right poker game, maybe two stickups. He lowballed you sweetheart. Gave you away for cheap.”

With a vicious wrench, Dean twisted Claire’s knife out of her hand and flung it away. “Now. Go use the bathroom. You got two minutes.”

He wasn’t kidding. Two minutes to the second later he opened the bathroom door and stood there as Claire finished doing her business. “Get out you perv!” she shouted.

Instead, Dean took a step into the tiny bathroom and Claire cowered on the potty, her undies around her knees. His normally kind eyes were cold stone and studied her like she was dogshit on his shoe. “One more word out of that cocksucker mouth of yours, I will break your fucking jaw. One.”

How nice it would have been to think he was exaggerating. He wasn’t. So this was the thing actual monsters were scared of, Claire thought as Dean turned his back. She tried not to let her hands shake as she cleaned up and flushed.

“Your bag’s on the table. Get changed and go to bed.” Dean turned to let her by. “Leave the door open,” he added as Claire reached for the knob. “You voided your privacy privileges.”

Claire changed into a pair of shorts and an old T-shirt and did her absolute best not to hear Dean as he opened his pants and pissed for the record. She caught sight of something under a chair-- her knife. The tinkling noise stopped and Dean groaned as he zipped up. Heart in her throat Claire grabbed the knife, folded it closed, and tucked it in the waistband of her shorts.

She was just getting into bed when Dean came out of the bathroom wiping his hands on a towel. The bathroom light behind him made him into a block of shadow, and despite herself Claire cringed. She’d felt this kind of unsafe before, around men who wanted her worse than dead. Not around the Winchesters though. Not that way. “Get some sleep. We move out at dawn.” He snapped the bathroom light off.

Claire turned onto her side. She heard Dean unzip his bag, uncap a bottle. Liquid gurgled. Trying to move silent and subtle, she pulled her pocketknife out of her shorts. Behind her, she heard a belt buckle jingle and fabric whisper as Dean got undressed. Despite herself, her mouth went dry and her heart pounded. What if he . . . there were two beds, sure, and there was Castiel and Dean's fucked-up sort-of boyfriends thing with him . . . Claire's hand tightened on her knife. Let him come. She'd slice his balls off.

Before or after letting him fuck her?

Before, snarled her brain.

After, whined her pussy.

There had to be something seriously wrong with her, Claire thought, that she only felt . . . real when the hunt was on. It didn’t seem to matter which side of the arrow she was on-- hunter or meat. There just had to be blood in the air, and around Dean blood was always in the air.

Dean didn't touch her. He got into the other bed. Claire's ears pricked as he set his keys down on the nightstand. A chance then. She’d have to ditch the car fast, she knew there wasn’t much gas in it. Just get me to the nearest bus station, she said to herself, careful not to phrase it as a prayer, I can do the rest.

Okay then. Claire waited, knife in her hand and heart in her throat. It took a long time, before Dean’s breathing went deep and snorty. Claire flipped over to her side, facing the other bed. In the faint light coming in through the window she could just make out his face, eyes closed and jaw shadowed with a day or so of beard. He looked like normal Dean again, the guy who took her minigolfing and called her a genius. Claire had to touch the throbbing bruise on her face to remind herself otherwise.

Slow and silent, Claire turned the covers back. Dean didn’t move. She rolled out of bed and stood barefoot on the carpet. Her knife was heavy in her hand. Claire spent a long moment studying Dean’s chest, looking for that spot just to the side of the sternum. She knew from personal experience the blade was long enough. A hard plunge would spike his heart and kill him in seconds.

Claire switched the knife to her left hand and reached with her right. She bent her knees and set her weight, ready to spring for the door. Panting silently though her open mouth, she leaned. Just a little further.

Dean’s eyes popped open. His hand snapped around her wrist. Claire struck with her knife and Dean grunted as the blade cut into his arm. “That’s enough,” he growled. Claire cried out as Dean yanked her clear off the floor and across his bed. He pinned her flat on her face. Claire tried to fight him off but he was too big, too strong, too much. Just like Castiel had, he crushed her into nothing. “For Christ’s sake that is enough..”

“Let me go you bastard! Let me go!”

Dean grabbed her by the hair and pulled, arching her head up and baring her throat. The tip of her knife touched her just under the point of her jawbone and Claire froze.

“I said,” Dean said, soft and silky and Claire felt her empty bladder pulse, “that’s enough. Stupid or suicidal-- depends on the day doesn’t it? Or maybe,” Dean shifted to press fully against her back and all the things Claire had been trying not to think about in connection with this man burst across her mind at the feel of his body, hard and heavy and so much bigger, “you just can’t feel it unless it hurts. That why you hate it at Jody’s?”

“I don’t hate it at Jody’s,” Claire denied even though she did hate it, she hated everything about it, she hated it for being warm and safe and she hated Jody for trying so hard to wrap her in softness and she hated Alex for her sneering contempt and she hated the constant reminders that she didn't belong with decent people any more she hated hated hated--

“Course you do. No action there. Room’s too quiet, bed’s too big. I take you back you’ll just take off again.” Dean set the point of Claire’s knife against the tender spot just below her eye. “Maybe I should cut your face so you can see how goddamned stupid you are every time you look in the mirror. Or maybe,” the point dug upward just enough to prick the skin, “I’ll take one of your eyes. Can’t hunt with no depth perception.”

In mockery, Claire searched for her courage. “You wouldn’t. Castiel wouldn’t let you.”

“Cute. You still praying to him? Don’t bother. When I left him I warned him I’d kill him next time I saw him. Now where were we? Right,” he growled, “trying to get it through your,” Claire whimpered as he pulled at her hair for emphasis, “thick fucking head you got no business Hunting. Hamstrings? Slice off your thumbs?” Dean slid the knife’s tip down her ribs until it poked just under the last one. “You didn’t know that vampire had his girlfriends covering the outside. I’m the only reason you haven’t been turned. Fucker had a type. Pretty young blondes. Were you going to cut his head off before or after you blew him?”

A whimpering sob peeped out of Claire’s mouth.

“Answer me,” Dean growled as he yanked her hair hard enough to rip some out.

“Before,” Claire said.

“Bullshit. You’d’ve hid your machete in a different place. Suck his brains out then deliver the coup de grace."

“Speaking from experience?” Claire smarted off.

Snarling something Claire didn’t catch, Dean threw her knife across the room. From behind, his knees shoved between her legs, one by one. Six inches taller, at least eighty pounds heavier, and -- Claire could feel it even through layers of fabric -- an adult male body doing predictably adult male things. If she’d been scared before--

“Think you’re a big girl.” Dean’s free hand fastened to her tit and squeezed. His pointer finger curled around her nipple and his thumb gripped in a vicious pinch. Heat raced straight down between her legs. On their own her hips tilted back, her pussy seeking a touch that wasn’t there. “Big girl tries to get the upper hand by being a fucking pricktease.” Dean shifted and those parts Claire had been trying to forget Dean had slotted in between her butt cheeks. She sucked back a sob. How did he know exactly how to handle her? “Good thing Randy stuck to taking pictures of you in the shower and selling your dirty underwear. You wouldn’t last a fucking week working the streets. That baby doll face and that fuck-you attitude’s catnip to the kind of bastard that likes breaking little girls.”

“Like you?” Claire snapped before she could stop herself.

A dark chuckle made Dean’s body rumble. His hips swayed and he grunted as his erection ground into her through their sleep clothes. “I don’t break my toys. Not until I’m done with them.” Claire fought as Dean flipped her over and it didn’t make any difference. A hard pull at her neck and her T-shirt shredded down the front. Another hard yank and her shorts flew away in pieces. Clamping one of her thighs between his, Dean shoved his hand in between her legs. The last of Claire’s bravado broke and disappeared when he found her slick and wet. Grinning, he stuffed her cunt with his first two fingers and rubbed her clit with his palm. Claire gasped. Like that bitch at the group home suggested she tried to find a safe place in her mind to go, somewhere to hide while her body did what it was going to do--

“Ah, no you don’t,” Dean grunted. His free hand seized her jaw. “You’re gonna look me in the eye, while I make you come.” The hand fucking up into her pressed, twisted, and Claire moaned. She shut her eyes and Dean’s hand locked around her throat. “Open your eyes and look at me, or I’ll break your fucking neck.”

Claire opened her eyes and sobbed out another moan. Her traitor body arched in Dean’s grip and he grunted, pleased. She wasn’t trying to fight her way free and they both knew it. Pussy juice flowed from her like blood from a slit wrist. Claire’s chest heaved as she fought for air. Dean’s eyes were cool as he watched her break apart, changing the motion of his fingers inside her or the pressure of his hand on her pussy according to what he saw in her face. As he made her come harder and hotter than she’d ever come in her life.

Then he did it again.

And again.

It went on a long time, and it got very bad. Dean broke her to pieces before he even got around to getting rid of his clothes. His cock was big and hot and Claire could feel it tearing into her where she was softest. Dean feasted on her all over, leaving dark bruises and bloody toothprints everywhere on her fair skin. It hurt, worse than anything.

Then he made her beg for more.

Then he turned her loose and told her, “Your turn. Do your worst.”

Claire attacked, and Dean laughed as she dug the skin off his chest.

At one point Claire found herself riding Dean hard as she could, biting the blood out of his neck as he goaded her into biting deeper and tearing harder. Against him Claire’s strength was worthless and her rage was a joke. The edge of mockery never left his eyes. To break her and rebuild her into something his, Dean didn’t need a rack. He was the rack.

When he finally got bored, Dean kicked Claire out of his bed. Literally. Claire cried out as she hit the floor, naked and bleeding from everywhere. Dean’s come blobbed out of her cunt, trickled from her ass, coated her throat in slime. “Go wash yourself,” grunted the thing wearing the skin of someone who’d been kind to her once. “You’re fucking filthy.” --- Dreams are crushed abandon hope, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm still fighting I don't give in, This is where I'm going. The glass is shattered. The curtain is down. I keep on moving-- I always will. --- “Jesus Christ, what happened?” Jody demanded, examining Claire’s black eye.

“Hunt went bad,” Claire grunted, ears pricked for the sound of Dean’s car. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was pretty much the last thing she and Jody ever said to each other. In the daylight hours Claire walked the town, checking every sliver of shadow and jumping at every unexpected noise. At night she lay in Jody’s too-soft bed, her pussy burning with heat and her brain writhing with nightmares. It was like she was back in those horrible months recovering from letting Castiel possess her, but worse. She’d never fingered herself off to those memories, again and again. Never bit through her own skin as she fucked herself with whatever would fit. Never collapsed against the sheets, overloaded and unsated.

“You need to tell us where he is,” Sam said. Jody reached for Claire’s hand. Claire suffered the touch for a few minutes before she pulled away. “Dean is not himself right now and he’s dangerous.”

“No fuck Freddo,” Claire scoffed.

“Claire!” Jody gasped.

“You’ve seen him.” It wasn’t a question. “What happened?” Castiel asked, staring at her in that inhuman way he had.

“I don’t know where he is, okay?” Claire said. Her vision was tunneling and her chest felt heavy and achy. Her legs shook as she stumbled up from the table. “End of story.”

Castiel grabbed her arm with her father’s hand. “That is not--"

Claire swung and popped him in the mouth. It was like hitting a rock. “Let GO!” Claire screamed.

“Claire what the hell--” Sam? Jody? Claire didn’t know, couldn’t care. Her arm bruised in Castiel’s grip as she tore free. The next thing she remembered was sitting on the floor with her head on her knees as people who couldn’t reach where she was talked around her like she was diseased or something.

--not sleeping and she’s self-harming--

--he wouldn’t--

--eighteen people--

--she’s been acting like--

--he’s in thrall to the mark--

--i’m not listening to this--

--he’s capable of anything now--

Anything, yeah. Claire’s body burned with the memory of anything. First touch she’s been able to really feel in forever. Jody and Alex couldn’t reach her. Dean could.

When you get sick of being a civilian again, meet me at these coordinates. He’d made her recite them, over and over.

When she slipped away for good she took nothing but her angel sword. He met her in an abandoned barn. He fucked her there too, making Claire scream as she came pressed up against the cold steel of the car.

“You can run if you want to,” Dean told her as he left her phone and the ruins of her panties on the barn’s dirty floor. “I’ll find you. It’s you and me now, baby. You and me.” --- You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. You are pain to me. And I volunteer to stick my hand my heart my soul inside. --- They lived on the move, a step ahead of the law and Heaven and Hell and Sam. Claire felt herself disappear into the job. She tried to get away from him a few times, chasing some longing for home and safety. Dean always found her. Her scar collection grew.

Miami, a pack of ghouls.

Little Egg Harbor, a coven of Siberian witches.

Fort Collins, a gang of shapeshifters.

Salt Lake City, the King of Hell as he begged and wept like a bitch, Dean grinning and thanking him for the Mark of Cain.

Sacramento, an oni.

Dearborn, a djinn.

The Colony, Castiel. Dean left the deathblow to Claire. The angel hadn’t begged. Just stared at her with eyes she saw every day in the mirror, full of pain before he burned out of her father’s corpse like the twist of energy he actually was. Dean built the pyre and stood with her as the body burned. Claire wept in his arms all night, and never cried again after.

City after city, case after case. Sam stayed a step behind, like the mud caked around the car’s fenders.

Finally, Claire sat behind Baby’s wheel as Dean and Sam had their final conversation inside some derelict house in some city somewhere. “He’ll live,” Dean grunted when he got back, motioning for Claire to slide over. He didn’t tell her to never mention Sam’s name again. He didn’t need to. --- You (how does it make you feel?) Are (how does it make you feel?) Pain to me. (how . . . does it feel?) --- Claire hasn’t thought of running away in a while. Where would she go? Dean keeps her fed, sheltered, gives her mission and purpose. Together they save people and kill monsters. So what if Dean doesn’t really respect or like her and uses her like a slut? He cares for her more than anyone has since an angel possessed her dad and crucified her life.

Claire does what she has to-- make it do or do without. ---

AN2: The scariest thing to me about Dean under the influence of the Mark of Cain was watching how he treated women. That degree of casual cruelty is fucking terrifying, and that's before we factor in Dean's physical power and vast experience in inflicting pain. Claire -- with her anger issues and her death wish and her brazen overconfidence -- is very lucky she didn't run into Dean before Dean hit the wall and summoned Death.

[teecupangel]

Hi! I was thinking about your reblog of my AssCreed headcanon list and I got this idea... Adha and Desmond character swap?

Desmond just wakes up in the Levant without any reason while Adha gets transported into the future because of their weird Chalice connection.

Bonus points if the switch happens at a really awkward time, like Des wakes up in bed with Altaïr and Adha with Lucy/Shaun/Rebecca (... basically whatever modern day character you ship Desmond with, or maybe all of them if you wanna go the poly route)

And what do you know, maybe Desmond knows enough about the future to warn everybody about Al Mualim and Kadar gets to live, and maybe Adha is well-versed enough in Isu bullshit to save Lucy and the world (and also Clay, somehow? Can we fit him in there as well?).

The reblog in question and the tags I included:

#no 3 though would mean that calling adha the chalice meant, #she was similar to desmond miles, #maybe she was a failed version, #and there's a few like her, #with desmond being the final 'product', #i personally headcanon adha is called the chalice because she has a specific isu blood that can open something, #like maybe the lost city of iram, #also known as atlantis of the sands

Honestly, Desmond being reborn as Adha has been a Yew Branches idea of mine since last year mostly because:

The term Chalice would mean it’s meant to hold something (as @fanworldbuildingfun once stated) and considering the most famous Chalice is meant to hold blood, the idea that the title Chalice is connected to her blood is high and is similar to how Desmond’s blood(line) plays an important part in his story.

Adha means ‘sacrifice’ and Desmond ends up sacrificing himself. (While Adha was the sacrifice that needed to happen so Altaïr would become who he is in AC1)

Adha wanted to leave Levant and everything behind. Desmond wanted the same thing and did just that.

There’s a possibility that she was 25 when she died (unconfirmed) which is also the same age Desmond died.

Anyway, let’s talk about how Desmond and Adha swapping places would work.

Okay, so let’s go over what we’re sure will happen:

Desmond and Adha would switch places at very awkward times because that would be fun and we all love to make Desmond suffer (affectionately).

Desmond would end up saving Kadar and warn everyone about Al Mualim (and be believed, I guess?)

Adha would end up saving Lucy and the world

Optional: Clay will be saved as well

So, for this one, we’ll have to twist the timeline a bit. We never did get an idea of when (if he ever did) Desmond relived Altaïr’s memories of Altaïr’s Chronicles (although I do like to headcanon he dreamed of it while he was stuck in the trunk of the car as Lucy drives them to the Rome hideout) so we’ll throw that away and make Desmond only have vague memories of Adha because we are setting this in the timeline where Lucy is still alive so that means Desmond hasn’t reached a Synch Nexus with Altaïr yet.

I propose that they switch not after a night of passion but during it, like in the exact middle of it. The kind reason for this is that no one would mistake that some kind of nefarious switcheroo has happened or another. The mean (totally the main reason why I'm suggesting this) reason is… maximum embarrassment and panic for Desmond which I am all for. XD

Okay, so let’s focus on Desmond first:

The best time for Altaïr and Adha to have some quality time would be just after they reunited and left the sewers and before Altaïr went to Tyr to ‘confront’ Harash. For this, we’ll assume Altaïr didn’t leave immediately and, instead, decided to stay with Adha for one night. During that time, Desmond changes places with her and… there’s a long period of just the two of them staring at each other with growing surprise and whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

Then Altaïr grabs him by the throat and demands to know who he is and where’s Adha.

And just as Desmond is starting to get lighthearted from the lack of oxygen.

He manages to blurt out.

“I’m Adha!”

And that… is how Desmond Miles, the Isu’s favorite chew toy and the unluckiest chosen one in the world, screwed up so badly that he now has to pretend to be the tragic destined-to-die lover of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.

Of course, Altaïr didn’t believe him at first but then Desmond started answering his questions, questions only Altaïr and Adha would have known the answers to and Desmond is pretty sure it wasn’t his Bleed of Altaïr that was giving him the answers.

Not when one of the questions made him say “Oh, that? Yeah. I lied to you back then. What? You were cute as a kid and you believed everything I say so I wanted to see if you’d be able to tell if I was lying! You never did, right?”

There was no way Desmond could have answered that unless Altaïr knew it was a lie. Altaïr had truly believed it which means…

For some reason…

He has Adha’s memories inside him.

Unorganized Notes:

Desmond got Altaïr to call him ‘Desmond’ because “it’ll be weird if you call a guy ‘Adha’, right? Also, the Brotherhood knows Adha and I don’t look anything like her.”

Desmond joins Altaïr in finishing up the remaining plot points of Altaïr Chronicles because something inside him knows something bad is going to happen if he doesn’t stay with Altaïr. Also, Altaïr wasn’t going to let him out of his sight because there were still a bit of lingering doubts about Desmond’s true identity which Desmond is like “yeah, that sounds about right”.

Altaïr Chronicles’ parts end successfully but Desmond gets a headache the day Adha was meant to die. He loses consciousness and Altaïr has to carry him off to somewhere safe until he wakes up.

When he wakes up, he knows where to go…

And now we get to Adha’s side of the story, in which she gets transported while Desmond was in the middle of a little stress-relieving session with Rebecca, Shaun and Lucy. All three of them immediately freaked out while Adha is momentarily confused before giving the same excuse Desmond gave to Altaïr.

“I’m Desmond Miles.”

Everyone is super sus at that but, really, they’re dealing with Isu BS and Desmond’s Bleeding Effect had been weirder than what was recorded (Lucy’s insistent “It can’t do this!!!” falls into deaf ears) and they figured the best way to check if Adha is Desmond is to put her in the Animus to check her genetic memories.

Lo and behold…

She has the same genetic DNA as Desmond Miles.

Not only that, the Animus ‘sees’ her as Subject 17 and the next memory to be played was the same memory of Ezio where they stopped for the day.

So, yeah…

According to the Animus…

Adha was Desmond Miles.

What the fuck.

Unorganized Notes:

Unlike Altaïr and Adha who did have an intimate romantic (most probably, fuck it, I’m headcanoning here, childhood friends to arranged marriage) relationship, Desmond’s relationship with Lucy, Shaun and Rebecca is primarily sexual although the feelings were starting to creep in.

If this was a fic, the narration would be more… vague. Less of Adha being an unreliable narrator and more of like the narration isn’t set in Adha’s eyes like with Desmond’s but in the eyes of the people around her although she’s the main focus.

She actually has a higher sync rate than any of Desmond’s past synchronization which is surprising.

Instead of going to the colosseum, Ezio’s memories stopped just as he had taken the Apple back from the Borgias, instead giving them the memory of Altaïr and everyone freezes when they saw Desmond with him.

They were underground and Shaun noticed that it looks a lot like the vault in the Vatican but… there are pillars, large and tall, piercing the dark ceiling above them.

After that memory plays, Adha slips into a coma and the Animus tells them that taking her off would endanger her so they keep her hooked to the Animus as it starts playing memories of Altaïr and Desmond.

During that time, Adha meets with Clay who calls her an ‘anomaly’ and Adha just smiles as she says “yeah, that sounds about right.”

Their conversation will be hidden from everyone (including the readers) and it will end with Adha waking up from her coma and telling everyone that they need to go somewhere else right now.

She takes them to the colosseum first to get the Apple but she tells Lucy to stay in the van for now. When Lucy tries to join them, the van locks by itself and Lucy freezes when she hears Clay’s voice coming from the laptop connected to the Animus.

When they returned, Lucy is oddly quiet and just asks Adha where to go next.

Adha gives them the location of a place they never heard from Ezio’s memories at all.

The Convergence:

The location in question is the lost city of Iram which has an underground Isu ‘temple’ named Iram of the Pillars.

The pillars there served as one of the many failed experiments of the Isu to protect themselves from the Solar Flare. The pillars were meant to store the data of all the Isus and the idea was they would be used to transfer the Isus forward a little bit after the Solar Flare.

The process of uploading the data itself proved to take too much time and Juno used the premise of this project and created the Mead to transfer the Isu’s consciousness instead of its entirety.

Iram can only be opened by a specific bloodline. To be more specific, the bloodline that Adha belongs to with an Isu ancestry that had been in charge of the Pillar Project (since this is a Capitoline Triad thing, I wanna say Minerva since she has a statue in Masyaf according to the novel but the idea of Juno and Aita having a child that would could be the Isu ancestor of Adha is a bit fun). This Isu ancestry is also in Altaïr’s bloodline thanks to Umar although his blood is more ‘diluted’ than Adha’s.

The Isu ancestry is why Adha is named the Chalice and why she ‘can turn the tide’ of the crusades since this is pretty much a teleporter of some sort.

Desmond is connected to Adha for one specific reason: he’s was Adha in his past life and now, thanks to whatever the fuck happened in 2012 that serves as the premise of all Yew Branches, Adha herself is the reincarnation of Desmond Miles after he died in 2012.

In other words, the Adha we’ve been looking at had been Desmond Miles who used Iram’s Pillar Project to switch their places because she, as Desmond Miles, wanted to save the people he couldn’t save in his previous life. And now, the pillars are ready for its final use.

By using the Pillars that have been upgraded thanks to Desmond in the past (and Altaïr) bringing the necessary POEs that would start the automatic upgrade construction that would need centuries to be completed, the Pillars could be used for one big moment where the entire world will be transported a few seconds into the future just as the Solar Flare hits. This way, the entire world would be gone and when it returns (without anyone knowing of the time and space displacement), the Solar Flare would have already been completed.

Now…

This is the conundrum…

Do we include in the idea that using the Pillars to save the world meant that Adha and Desmond would be stuck in their current time with Desmond with Altaïr and Adha with Shaun, Rebecca, Lucy and (digital ghost for now) Clay?

Or will the Pillars switch them back in their proper time?

What would count as a happy ending in this scenario?

Because Adha has Desmond Miles’ memories so she does love Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy the same way Desmond Miles had and everything she had done was to save the world and save Lucy and Clay.

And Desmond has spent years with Altaïr at this point, growing close to him and Altaïr definitely realized that Desmond is more than just Adha.

So… really…

Would returning them to their original timeline truly be a happy ending?

[moonlit-stay]

(ATE Edition)

This is me writing out my thoughts of each song as I'm listening to them.

Feel free to ignore this😂

-

MOUNTAINS thoughts:

OH FUCK

I AM SO EXCITED

PH FMY FICK

SHZJJSHWBWSJDKJXBDJEJDJDUXHRBRJJSJDJDJDHSHS

THIS SONG IS FUCKING EVERYTHING TO ME

THISBHAS ME WANTIMG TO CATAPULT MYSELF INTO A FUCKING WALL

HYUNJIN'S VERSE?????? HELLO?????

ARE WE FUCKING KIDDINGGGGGGGG

I'VE BEEN SO EXCITED FOR THIS SONG SINCE THE UNVEIL TRACK BUT OH MY FUCK. NOTHING COULD'VE PREPARED ME FOR THSI

O AM MANICALLY SCREAMING BRO

Chk Chk Boom thoughts:

THE FUCKING MUSIC VIDEO??????? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE

HAN'S OPENING VERSE IS THE MOST INSANE SHIT IBHAVE EVER HEARD

ZEND FUCKING HELP

(S)CREAMING BROBWHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKK

THEY HAVE FUCKING RYAN REYNOLDS AND HUGH JACKMAN IN THEIR FUCKING MUSIC VIDEO. WHO THE FUCK BESIDES THEM HAD EVER??????

CAN WE SAY MAKIMG FUCKING HISTORY???????

I WILL BLOW MY VOCAL CORDS RIGHT NOW. I DO NOT CARE.

THE FITS??????? PURPLE BIN????

FUCKKKKKKKKKKK

JJAM thoughts:

AHHHHHHHSJDJDIEHEHDY OH NY GOD

THE SCREECH THAT FUCKING LEFT ME

OH MY FUCING GOD

GOD'S MENU, SUPER BOWL, JJAM

MY FAVORITE MUSICAL FAMILY

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

"GODDAMN" ??????????

YOU KNOW IT'S GOOD WHEN YOU'RE PULLING THE MOST DISGUSTED FACES KNOWN TO MANKIND

I CANNOT GRASP THE FACT THAT THIS IS REAL

NO FUCKING WAY THEY PUT "I KNOW YOU KNOW LEE KNOW" I AM LOSING IT

I WILL BE THROWING INSANE ASS TO THIS SONG HOLY SHIT

I Like It thoughts:

IM NOT READY

OH SHIT

THE GASP I GASPED

JESUS CHROST

OH MY HOD

HAN AMD HYUNJIN'S VERSE????? GOOD LORD???

CHRISTOPHER????

CAN'T LIE, I'D THROW ASS TOBTJIS TOO

Runners thoughts:

AHHH OH SHIT

OH FUCK

IBWAS NOT EXPECTING THAT

THROWING ASS AS I TYPE BRO

THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD OG MY GSO

I WILL HOLD YOUR HAND WHAT THE FUCK

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

twilight thoughts:

OH SHIT

THOS IS ALREADY SO GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL

GODDAMN I'M VIBIN

This actually reminds me of one of their performances (one of my ALL time favorite performances, actually)

Is there any sound they CAN'T do? My GOD

This song REALLY makes me wanna dance in the rain for some reason? It just makes sense in my brain??

Stray Kids thoughts:

I'M SCARED

AM I ABOUT TO SOB????

I'M NOT READY

SHIT UP I ALREADY HAVE TEARS IN MY EYES AND IM NOT EVEN 30 SECONDS IN

I have tears streaming down my face.

My eight loves, you've come so, so far

I cannot put into words how proud I am of my boys.

The music video for this song will fucking break me. Nothing will prepare me for that.

Chk Chk Boom (Festival Ver.) thoughts:

I saw "festival version" and screamed

I NEED TO SEE THEM PERFORM THIS AT AN AWARD SHOW OR FESTIVAL ASAP

OH MY FUCK

DHAKING ASS AS I TYEP

O HHUGH MY FUCOSJ GOD

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT ZHAKE ASS????? WHATVTHE FUCK

THIS IS FUCKING INSSNE

JESUS GUCKING CHRIST

Final thoughts:

OH MY FUCK, WHERE DO I START

Okay, so, years ago I decided that whenever they make a comeback I would stream nothing but the album, all day, every day, until after promotions. Over time, the duration of me streaming the album has just gotten longer.

WITH THIS ALBUM?? I'M NEVER LEAVING. WHAT THE FUCK.

I WILL BE SHAKING ASS TO NOTHING BUT THIS ALBUM UNTIL AT LEAST SEPTEMBER

All bullshit aside, I am so incredibly proud of these eight and how far they've come. I am so unbelievably proud to be a STAY, and I cannot wait to continue to support them on this insane journey of theirs.

Nothing but success and unconditional love to my 4th Gen leaders and kings <8

[envihellbender]

Hunt!Sebastian paying John a visit

Characters: Sebastian Moran, John Sims

Verse: The Magnus Archives, TMA AU of Sebastian Moran / Moriarty (MorMor)

[CLICK]

THE ARCHIVIST

[HE SOUNDS A LITTLE SHAKEN, AS IF HE IS PACING UP AND DOWN AS HE IS TALKING.]

I found a tape on my desk. I have checked and double checked with security and with the CCTV coming into the building and everyone coming in or out of the building is accounted for. Was it posted here? It wasn’t in an envelope or anything. Maybe Ma- someone thought they were being helpful. But he- they wouldn’t open my mail, would they? Anyway. Here it is. Statement of Sebastian Moran. Regarding how he met James Moriarty.

[CLICK]

SEBASTIAN MORAN

I found one of your little tape recorders, Archivist, so thought I’d give you something to listen to. You know me. Basher Moran. Moriarty’s Tiger. The most feared sniper in Europe. Prince of London’s Underworld. That one is weird I think, if Moriarty’s the king, that would make me his son? Anyway. Yeah. It’s me, and I hear you’ve been tracking down me and Jimmy, listening to all our victim’s statements and all that. So I thought I’d give you something straight from the tiger’s mouth. There have been quite a few stories about how I met my Jimmy. Urban legends really. Is this one of them or is this a lie just to get under your skin? Only you’ll be able to tell, right Archivist?

Let’s quickly skip through the really boring stuff. Yeah, yeah, son of Augustus Moran and a servant he knocked up in his house in India. He actually had quite a few bastards you know, for some reason he took a shine to me and that’s not the compliment you think it is. He was a faggot, pretended not to be, and whether I killed the fat cunt or not is a little secret you already know the answer to, Archivist. Anyway, I’m the best shot you’ll ever find. Spent most of my teens at a shooting range and didn’t get sped through the army ranks cause of my surname. When your as brown as me and your dad dun’t wanna talk about you a name as common as Moran don’t help. So. I get quietly discharged cause if a nasty event that don’t have anything to do with this story, but you need to picture me as being out Army in my twenties and making a comfortable living selling my services. With a gun, by the way, not my dick sucking lips.

The thing about sniping, is it’s mostly waiting. You set yourself up somewhere high up and out of sight, if you’re good at it you can be low down and no one will find you. Sometimes it’s just you, snacks, drinks, your headphones, and that spare empty bottle you brought to piss in. Audiobooks are great for that. I got through all Chuck Palahniuk’s stories that way. Anyway. Got distracted. So. Most people assume Jimmy hired me, and nah, course he didn’t. He doesn’t do anything like a normal person. First, it was messages in my phone. A text message from a number that didn’t exist and any time I tried to call it instead all I got was a loud screeching noise. The text itself was just a set of coordinates and a time. I decided to ignore it, and five minutes after the deadline, I got left a voicemail without my phone ever had been rung. Weirdest thing about that? It was my voice.

Yeah. Apparently I had rang myself and left a message threatening me about what I would do to my eyeballs if I didn’t pay attention to the next text message. So that was fucking weird. But message received. The next time I got some coordinates I went straight there. First ones led me to a tube station. And when I looked at the train times screen, there was a message for me instead. No one else seemed to see it. But I swear to God it said “Moran. Go to the payphone I’ve marked.” Which is fucking annoying. God damn treasure trail without the treasure. Anyway, so I found it, and clever fuck had written “hi” with a heart drawn on it. Fucking fag. So when I got to it, it started ringing. I answered it and this soft lilting voice was in the other end.

He gave me a job. A good job. With a lot of money. And I said yeah, even though I asked why he didn’t just tell me instead that of playing some stupid game. He giggled and said it was fun. Now I get it. That’s just how he works. When you’re running around anxious and confused he’s feeding off you. That’s just a small way he gets a quick snack. So we went on like this for a while, giving me job after job. I got a bit sick of it, and whilst yeah the Web is really fucking powerful. But. Well, I’m the Hunt. And finding shit is what I do.

So I laid low for a while and between and during jobs I started tracking down my Jimmy. He knew, kept making jokes about how close I was. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t make it to him, maybe he wanted me to, or maybe he didn’t care. Honestly, Jimmy might not even know. Maybe he didn’t think about it. But. Eventually I found myself just outside of this big fancy flat building. One of the types in zone one where the front is fancy as fuck and the back is meeting the quota for affordable housing. I don’t care, if they live in the shithole they can’t pay me. I took the lift up to the top floor. The huge, massive, modern screen door greeted me when I got out. He has a penthouse you see, and the dramatic fuck has a spider web pattern all over it.

I was planning on being subtle, but the moment I got to the top floor, I heard a lilting giggle. I looked up to see a camera pointed directly at me. He didn’t say a word, just ended up with a click to show the door was open. I walked in. His house is pretty great but I’m not gonna tell you shit that might lead you to him. You know what’s funny? I hate spiders. I hate them. I hate them so much of course I noticed their was a lot hanging around my flat since this started. But I didn’t think they had anything to do with Jimmy. His penthouse though? Let’s just say he’s gone all out on the theme.

Anyway. I mostly came here to kill time because gotta shoot one of your librarians. Just some dickhead who stuck his nose where he shouldn’t. By the time you hear this, you might wanna make sure someone goes up to clean up. I knew this would be a great way to distract you. Once the statement started you wouldn’t be able to put it down. Hope you enjoyed my story, mate. There’s plenty more where that came from. My Jimmy? He’ll be in touch.

THE ARCHIVIST

[CLICK. HE SIGHS.]

Statement ends. Carson Throw was found with a very clean gunshot wound through his temples. The bullet was found lodged into a book about spider webs. Hardly subtle. There wasn’t much of a mess. Carson was very wrapped up in jobs for James Moriarty, nothing special just owed him a lot of money from card games and he was slowly trying to work off. It seems Carson tried to get out before his debt had been paid. As for what Moran and Moriarty want with me… Only time will tell.

[CLICK.]