#JUST FOLLOW DIRECTIONS. YOU SELFISH BASTARD.

[crimeronan]

orpheus sucked. i've said it before and i'll say it again: if you loved her you wouldn't look. rip to eurydice girl if you were married to ME i'd walk straight out of hell and keep walking and if i never saw you again it would be okay because i'd know you were alive and carry that with me and none of the rest of it would matter because THAT'S WHAT LOVE IS and anything else makes my skin crawl. your husband fuckin SUCKSSSSS dude i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry an ugly bitch would do you like that i'm SO s

[starrylanex]

I Love You, I’m Sorry

dean winchester was a coward.

he knew that, when it came to you, he would always be a coward. a selfish bastard. an asshole. a dick. when it came to you, he would rather be all of those things, than a mourner, a griever.

if he loved you, he would find it in himself to let you go. and because he loved you so fucking much, that he did- exactly two summers ago, he let you go.

but then again, because of the line of work he was in, it was impossible to keep people you cared about alive. and he would rather have you alive and hating him, then dead.

sam was confused. he didn't understand what happened in between the two of you while he was gone. because dean was already alone when he joined his brother from stanford. he knew dean was mourning you, in his own, quiet way, even tho you were alive- he checked, he knew you were alive, but his brother was acting like you had died.

dean would charm his way into women's pants almost every other night- in every town they stayed. dean liked to think he was over you, that screwing other women got him over you. but it was never enough.

because he looked for you in ever woman he was with, he didn't know he was doing it- it was an automatic, subconscious thing, comparing them to you. he knew that he still loved you and he was so, so sorry that he hurt you. but what was done, was done. and he knew that you probably hated him just as much as he loved you.

it wasn't until two summers after getting back into hunting with sammy that he somehow started talking with you again and honestly, he didn't know how it happened. he wasn't complaining tho. fuck, he was so glad that the two of you were talking again.

it was really nothing serious. you weren't friends, but while talking with you, he realized that you didn't hate him as much as he though you did. and he didn't know if it was good or not, because he knew that he didn't deserve the kind eyes, and the kind words you would offer while helping him and sam with hunts.

what mattered was, that the two of you were cool now. all the bad blood was left behind- he hoped it was left behind because he missed working with you. fuck, scratch that. he fucking missed you.

so seeing you, seeing your sweet smile which was directed towards his brother warmed his heart. of course he wouldn't show it, but his eyes would follow your every move when you weren't paying attention.

it didn't feel real during that year after he made a deal with the crossroad demon to bring sammy back to life in exchange for his soul. nothing felt real for dean anymore. but he was so fucking glad that he got to spend that last year he thought he would have, with you. having those drinks at the bar, and laughing at his stupid jokes like old times.

sometimes, he thought you pitied him. and thats why you were pitifully spending the last moments of his life with him. you didn’t know of course, he made both sam and bobby promise as his last wish to not tell you. he would figure out it later, and it would probably backfire once again, but at that moment, dean though he was doing the both of you a favor for not telling you about the deal.

he loved you so fucking much that it fucking hurt him. both physically and mentally. he would laugh it off every time you got concerned over him, it was honestly sweet, but it hurt.

what mattered was that he had made amends with you. at least- he thought he did- he hoped he did. because god, he didn’t want to die with having you hate him. it was selfish and wrong, he knew that. but thats what life was about. that was what their kind of life was about right?

being haunted by the look in your eyes. by you. by your love and his love for you. he loved you and he was sorry that he did.

[miyamiwu]

Ness is actually a very rational player, despite his obsession with magic (and Kaiser)

It’s past 3am and I was just about to go to sleep, but I suddenly had a eureka moment and now I’m wide awake! Forget what I said about going on a semi-hiatus. Ness occupies my mind, and I need to get this out.

Before I saw the c263 leaks, I jokingly posted about how Ness could be Bastard Munchen’s new ace should Kaiser ever leave for Re Al. But now this idea is no longer just a joke. It’s actually really possible...

Let’s look at this panel from c262:

Don’t attempt any more irrational plays.

The official translation used the word “impossible,” but a look into the raws would show that it’s not the same “impossible” Kaiser is obsessed with. More info here.

And not only did Ness call out Kaiser on being irrational, he also told him the most rational thing to do, which was to wait.

Kaiser, of course, just brushed him off—but who cares about that ungrateful bastard! Let’s focus on Ness.

I took a closer look on Ness’ previous scenes and....

What was your plan for that play? ...You made that utterly irrational, shot-in-the-dark solo play...

You ignored Kaiser to pass to the orange machoman despite his low chance of success. It was a selfish play without a shred of rationality...

Based on your data, your direct shot is a faulty move.

This guy’s pressing? He never did that until now!

Ness has a very scientific approach to his plays. He looks at existing data and decides his next move based on it. When he’s stumped, he needs a strategy to follow or a role to adhere to. In other words, he needs clear directions:

When Kaiser is being bothered by Lorenzo, my job is to crush you in his place...

My job is to lure them in!

Ness: I haven’t done anything... Kaiser: If we can deal with Lorenzo, we can win. Ness: Yes, Kaiser… I will erase stupid Lore

Ness may not realize it, but growing up in a family of scientists has greatly influenced how he thinks. His rationality makes him a highly skilled player, but at the same time it limits him.

Because of his extremely rational way of playing, he’s unable to look beyond what is possible and achieve the magic he seeks. But Kaiser is different. Unlike Ness, Kaiser is always out to attempt the impossible.

So when Ness is with Kaiser, his rationality gets shut down and he is led into the realm of magic—or at least, the magic he think it is.

What should we do, Kaiser?

Just keep doing like we practiced. I’m not asking you to be creative... Just have faith. Nothing’s impossible for me.

It also doesn’t help that whenever Ness wants to discuss proper countermeasures with Kaiser, the latter shuts him off and tells him to just have faith—an extremely irrational thing.

But is it really magic when thinking stops? Is it really magic to just leave things to faith?

Definitely not for resident overthinker Isagi.

I think again of Ness’ manga cover:

Obviously, the thorns from the blue roses represent Kaiser’s control on him.

But what about his chains? Why are they separate from the thorns and roses? Kaiser has a glass chain, so why can’t Ness have an all-thorns one?

I think it’s because there are actually two things chaining Ness down.

If the thorns and roses represent Kaiser and magic, then the hard and cold metal one represent what science and logic have been to Ness.

Aside from breaking free from Kaiser, for Ness to truly awaken… he needs to reconcile the realms of science and magic.

Because science is magical.

Ness thinks football is magic. And Noel Noa, the best striker in the world, is a very logical player.

I used to think Ness being in a team that prioritizes rationality was a mistake… but now I think it’s fate.

Ness may just be Bastard Munchen’s new ace.

[ruhorih4ra]

Holi! 🌞 I'm sorry, I'm losing motivation (the hiperfixation is leaving my body [I'm lying, that shit is already gone <fuck>]). 😔

Part 10!

Get out of my way 🌈

Lilith seemed unfazed by your surprised face. “Don't look at me like that, everybody has little outbursts from time to time,” you argued. “You made my brother cry like a baby!”

“Firstly, Mammon cries like a baby all the time. Secondly, he made me cry first!” You tried to escape Lilith’s reprimand but the Little D.’s were too engrossed in the sales of the Little D. of Greed to help you out.

“My brother was willing to sell his car for you!” “Pffft oh what a big sacrifice! You know what? I was willing to give my life for him.” With that, both you and Lilith decided to finish the argument. Neither of you felt even an ounce of satisfaction.

“I still think that’s not enough for that little bastard to show.” You signaled the Little D. of Greed with a brief movement of your chin. The long haired woman sighed while raising two fingers. “Two.”

Tuesday.

For better or worse, you shared a fair amount of courses with Satan. Every time you felt his eyes on you, you'd turn to face him only to watch him quickly look away. That repeated until the last class was over and you could head to the library. “Mc, wait!” you were quick to dismiss him. “Whatever you have to say can wait.”

Unfortunately the blonde demon was more stubborn than you thought, discreetly following you without arguing further. “Stop. What are you doing?” Satan's face was emotionless. “Are you talking to me? I'm going to the library.” He replied. “So that's how it's gonna be.”

You turned around, changing your plans. Immediately, the sound of other shoes heading in the same direction as you made you stop. Without turning around, you peeked out of the corner of your eye. “I thought you were going to the library.” “Not anymore.” Satan said.

“I can always just teleport somewhere you can't follow.” he didn't seem too preoccupied by your statement and his next words showed you why. “I can always follow the trace of your magic too.” a scowl appeared on your face, it gradually deepened as you felt irritation arise. “No, no you can't.” He seemed to be fighting with himself before accepting defeat.

“There is something you should know.” suddenly, a dense black mist spread across the hallway and from that mist the black shape of Satan appeared. “If I say I'm sorry enough times, would you forgive me, kitten?”

“No way! Just leave me alone, you little jerk!” You said. “How did you-What?” You understood that Satan had mistakenly received the insult but you didn’t bother to correct him. Being forced to live around seven selfish demons and their little dumb imitators was exhausting, you didn’t care about pretending anymore.

“Mc! Please! What do we need to do?!” you’ve never seen him like this, so desperate and helpless. “What do you want me to do!?” you looked around, wondering why Lilith wasn't bugging you to forgive her brothers. “What are you looking for?” Satan asked you, nothing ever escapes him.

“You're very perceptive, aren't you? How come that you never noticed how bad I felt?” He opened his mouth and closed it almost immediately, he did the same at least three more times. Eventually, he closed his eyes and began speaking at a very slow pace. “Listen to me, Mc. I don't care about Lucifer.” you frowned, looking at him in confusion. “And?” “I don't care what Lord Diavolo wants either.” He didn't stop looking at your eyes as he spoke, but his words made no sense to you.

“And you’re telling me this because?” your irritation was escalating. He seemed troubled and you knew he was fighting with himself, whether he cares for Lucifer's opinion or not, it looked like this particular time he was on his side. “Because I care for you! And right now it doesn't seem right to tell you this but you have to trust me!” He took each of your arms with his hands, waiting for a response.

“I don't have to trust you, and honestly I don't get why I should.” You shook off his grip. “Why don't you go to Sc, I'm sure she must be waiting for you.” Satan's mask was slowly cracking but you didn't notice.

“Mc, please. Please let me explain it better.” Satan tried really hard to keep his composure, but the way you brushed him off hurt. He scratched his hair, pacing back and forth, breathing and counting to ten. “I think I'll pass, I have things to do.” “No, no, please listen.”

“See you, Satan.”

“NO! LISTEN TO ME!” The floor crushed when he walked towards you, he had changed into his demon form. You backed away from him, surprised and frightened by the sudden outburst of anger. You hadn't been the source of it in so long.

He was at your side in seconds, grabbing your arm with one hand while roughly grabbing your chin with the other. “WE ARE TRYING TO PROTECT YOU!!”

Your whole body was shaking, your eyes had closed on instinct. You could feel Satan's messy breath on your face. The more time you refused to talk, the tighter his grip became.

You filled your lungs with air before facing him. “Protect me from whom? Protect me from...you?” his face lost all its anger and he walked away from you in two strides.

“No! I was trying to…” He looked at your arm and then his hands, he was distraught. He couldn’t believe how little it took him to reach a breaking point, how little he could take before hurting you, even if it wasn’t his intention. You’re better off without him and the mark on your arm was proof of that. “I should have known better since the very first time you threatened me.” You said, your voice was low but steady.

A quick glance at you shattered Satan’s resolve, he wanted to protect you, but what greater danger is out there, if not him? “You’re right. I’m sorry, I won’t bother you anymore.” He murmured, but he didn’t make the effort to leave, just stayed there trying to force his legs to obey him. “Would you let me take care of that?” He said, incapable of simply walk away.

“No.” You said sharply. You healed your arm easily, no more than a touch and the bruise was gone. Satan’s amazement was visible, his eyes were full of admiration and respect. He knew about the raw magic inside you, but to see the progress you made in such a short time helped him understand what he feared most. “I guess you don’t really need us anymore.”

You averted his eyes and sighed, if he could know how miserable you feel without them. “I suppose not.” After a while you turned around and left him there, and if he let a couple of tears fall, at least there were no witnesses.

“What?! How do you know that!? You weren’t even there!” You said and Lilith shrugged. “That’s not the point.” Your ancestor looked at the distance, her gaze lost in the darkness of the Devildom’s sky.

“Why didn’t you try to stop me as you usually do?” She seemed tired. “I wasn’t there!” You still had doubts about how exactly she had found about the incident with Satan, but you decided to change the subject.

“Where were you?” She cleared her throat nervously. “I was busy with your little demons, they’re getting stronger.” You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Mammon and Satan had it coming, so…” “Tsk tsk tsk, Mc.” Your jaw dropped. Did Lilith just Tsk me? Lilith wagged her finger disapprovingly. “There is more” She raised three fingers.

“Three.”

Wednesday

“For the last time, Asmodeus, I don’t want you to paint my fucking nails!” You removed your hand from his once again, after multiple attempts from Asmo. “But Mc! I chose this color specifically for you!” He whined and protested. “Leave my room, now!”

The corner of his eyes filled with unshed tears. “Mc, please don’t be mad with me anymore!” You got up from bed and opened the door. “Out. Now.” He didn’t move, instead he hugged himself and bit his lips. “I just… you know what it means to me.”

You did remember what it means, Asmo told you painting the nails of his brothers gave him comfort, it also showed that they were a family. He told you doing the same for you was a way of showing that you were part of the family too.

It was comforting, but you were too blinded with disappointment to properly care. “Tell me why.” You murmured, already savoring your next words. Asmodeus frowned. “What?” He asked, confused.

“Don’t.” Lilith appeared behind Asmodeus. “Please, don’t.” You sighed and rolled your eyes, but indulged. “Forget it, Asmodeus. Just leave.” The demon shook his head and changed his pose. “Don’t call me by my full name!” He whined. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Mc!”

You spit a short laugh before getting close to him, something that caught him off guard but he didn’t complain. “Why would I ever want to be seen as part of your family?” He backed off, hurt evident on his face. “You’re not Mc.” He said shakily.

He looked at you again and was horrified. “Mc we need to do something. What happened to you, hon!? Oh don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright, dear.”

You were more confused with each passing moment, looking at him in awe. “Excuse me, what?” He hugged you but it didn’t last, you broke the hug as fast as possible. “It was you, you happened.” You snatched the things he’d brought and promptly threw them out of your room. “I don’t want to see your face again, it disgusts me. Understood?” You said before closing the door in his face.

“He cried a lot that night.” Lilith’s face of anguish was hard to ignore. “You’re pitying them too much, Lilith.” She shook her head, moving her hands with exasperation, signaling to nowhere. “He covered all of the mirrors in his room!” Lilith shouted, and you felt guilty, you hadn’t given that much thought to your actions and it seemed that your brain was trying to ignore the damage that your words had caused. “I guess I did overdo it a bit”

“A bit?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“No.”

“There is more?”

“There is more.”

“Fuck.”

Part 12 ಠ⁠‿⁠ಠ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @sadlily1 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl

[y-rhywbeth2]

So, that last reblog about Ilmater and a few of your other cleric-related posts reminded me of a question/issue that has bugged me for a while and that I haven't found a good answer for. (Don't worry, it's not about BDSM, though I am very ??? about Ilmatari sexuality. But I digress.) As a more casual DnD player, I don't have many of the source books, so I mostly have to rely on what I can find on the internet, which is very … *gestures vaguely* let's say, hit or miss on reliable information. I also know there may not be a "canon" answer, even if just to leave room for DM/player shenanigans, but maybe you might know or have an opinion.

So, my understanding is that priests are people who enter the clergy (voluntarily or not) and learn the doctrines, how to perform rituals, etc., while clerics are basically people that a god points to and says "I want that one," and may not ever have or have had anything to do with the official clergy/religious hierarchy. But to me, it seems like the clergy would have some process to establish that a person who claims to be a cleric of their god is actually legit.

The extremist cult mentioned in that other post happened during the Time of Troubles, so that wasn't exactly normal circumstances, but it seems like that sort of thing would be a concern all the time. I know the gods aren't supposed to directly meddle in each other's affairs, but it seems like some of them would try anyway if they thought they could get away with it. (Looking at you, Shar.) And I'm sure there are plenty of other entities that would deceive, brainwash or mind-control a mortal into thinking they're a cleric so they can slander a god. A truth-serum doesn't seem like it would be enough, because the person may genuinely believe it.

To be honest, I haven't been able to find much at all about where clerics fit in with the clergy. I'm sure some gods would be fine empowering people who wanted to serve as long as they're doing the things the god's clergy or clerics do. Other gods, like Bane, no doubt demand that a cleric undergo training in doctrines, etc. and have a clearly established place in the hierarchy. But even beyond what the gods themselves feel about it, I imagine the clergy would want some verification process for anyone who would represent their faith.

Is this a thing, or are we just supposed to head-canon it however? I know it's a sort of nitpicky issue, but it seems like it would be important thing to know for anyone wanting to play a cleric -- for backstory reasons if nothing else!

(By the way, if you answer, I don't mind if you snip this ask into whatever pieces you want to respond to. I realize it's a little long.😔)

-

So, my understanding is that priests are people who enter the clergy (voluntarily or not) and learn the doctrines, how to perform rituals, etc., while clerics are basically people that a god points to and says "I want that one," and may not ever have or have had anything to do with the official clergy/religious hierarchy.

Everybody working at the temple doing the daily chores and dedicating themselves to a life of worship is a priest, but the priests in charge and the ones leading the rituals and speaking for the deity are the clerics (or druids). A cleric/druid does have to be part of the faith, and if a god wants this mortal as a cleric they’ll typically direct them towards the nearest actual cleric/druid and place of worship for that guidance and training. (Favoured/Divine Souls, as the spontaneous casters, are the annoying bastards who fuck up the hierarchy, but they’re rare. Don't need to follow the rules or pray for your god's power when you simply have it by existing.)

As far as I'm aware a god can't force a person to be a cleric/druid/paladin/ranger; divine magic requires some degree of faith and willingness to serve, even if for selfish reasons on the mortal end. They can bestow their power on a mortal, but the classes require a certain dedication. You can psychologically condition people into willingness though.

But to me, it seems like the clergy would have some process to establish that a person who claims to be a cleric of their god is actually legit.

For a random, already initiated priest you've never met before: Aside from a series of rites and secret handshakes or whatever - plus the assumption that few are going to be suicidal enough risk pissing off the gods - they do, it’s called asking the god.

The extremist cult mentioned in that other post happened during the Time of Troubles, so that wasn't exactly normal circumstances, but it seems like that sort of thing would be a concern all the time.

It kind of is is. Not even just enemy gods disguising themselves, but different religious leaders having different interpretations of the same deity.

I know the gods aren't supposed to directly meddle in each other's affairs, but it seems like some of them would try anyway if they thought they could get away with it. (Looking at you, Shar.) And I'm sure there are plenty of other entities that would deceive, brainwash or mind-control a mortal into thinking they're a cleric so they can slander a god. A truth-serum doesn't seem like it would be enough, because the person may genuinely believe it.

There’s a couple of factors, one being that pesky free will that mortals have to have, plus faith remains true to its definition (because even when gods are demonstrably real ‘I don’t need empirical evidence for what I believe in to believe in it’ still stands).

Even within a single faith there are heresies and splinter sects: worshipping their god in different ways, interpreting doctrine differently, and getting mad at each other over it.

The god then has a choice to make: cut off one of the sects, losing followers and power and leaving that sect to potentially be picked up by an enemy god who will empower them (possibly masquerading as them) but not causing disunity in the church or potentially altering their own nature; or empower both, maintaining their power (maybe creating a larger pool of potential worshippers with new avenues to the faith), but decentralising their power on Faerûn as the faith fragments, and potentially changing themselves as mortal faith ‘evolves’ them.

Sometimes gods treat heresies – even if they’re born of a masquerading enemy - as tests of faith for the misled mortal, or think they can get something out of it.

To be honest, I haven't been able to find much at all about where clerics fit in with the clergy.

They’re the authority, as handed to them from on high. The hands and eyes of the god upon the mortal realm in a way that a lesser priest is not. A cleric/druid is intimately and inextricably tied to their god; They have the god’s ear and speak and act for them, and the rest of the faith follow. A priest who isn’t a divine caster serves the temple and god out of faith, but doesn’t wield divine authority. It’s not quite the same thing, but imagine that the non-divine casters are volunteers helping the people running the place, and the divine casters have taken oaths and have to live according to a set of ecclesial laws the rest of the world doesn’t have to. I mean most clergy took rites and responsibilities, but nowhere near the level a divine caster did. Picture the difference between a fighter and the old fashioned LG paladin. Perhaps both may serve Tyr faithfully, but the paladin has a code, powers and mythos that the fighter doesn’t.

You don’t really get into the higher ranks of the clergy without divine casting.

But even beyond what the gods themselves feel about it, I imagine the clergy would want some verification process for anyone who would represent their faith.

They often – maybe always – do have that, assuming the god hasn’t singled you out for service in which case the clergy are getting sent divine omens that say ‘this is my new cleric/druid’ and then they shut up and do as they’re told or face divine punishment (clerics and druids are not to refuse their god’s commands).

If you’re just a standard acolyte looking to take vows and serve the faith, the Ilmatari have an example:

The senior priest takes you for a quiet walk where you discuss your views on life and your desire to join the faith, ending in a meal where you voluntarily allow yourself to be drugged into a trance where the priests will examine your mind for any ulterior motive or anything hidden that makes you unsuited to their life. If all goes well: welcome to the faith, if not tough luck.

There are also vetting processes for climbing the ranks, which both mortal tradition and the god is involved in: 'Clerics in the service of a god will advance only if they please the god, by remaining faithful to the god's rules and aims, and acting as the god wishes.'

Non-clerics usually fill the bottom ranks, maybe never prograssing past acolyte or having their own vows idk (non-divine caster priests are generally overlooked and recommended as npcs only). Ascending ranks usually means divine caster, and involves a greater level of study, rites to pass, and getting further and further involved with your god (meaning more loyalty required and harsher sentences for betrayal and failure). Spell levels 1-2 come from training, like wizards. 3-5 are being granted by divine servants and messengers of the deity (solars, elementals, fiends, etc). 6+ are coming straight from the god.

Priesthoods tend to be extremely secretive about their inner workings, a good example found in how they treat their holy books*: those are often warded to high hell to make sure the wrong people (alignment, religion, intentions...) can’t get near them, and will insist on putting outsiders that want to see them through an obstacle course of tests and tasks and then still want to stand to the side and watch the visitor like a hawk while they read, ready to act if they do anything sketchy or blasphemous.

*Not like standard parables or the occasional history, like the really important sacred stuff straight from the deity, full of divine spells handed to their most holy. Holy relics and etc.

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 7]

Previously on...

-----

It was gory, unpleasant work, but it had to be done.

"Sorry, K," Z mumbled as she wrestled the coat off of her fallen squadmate's corpse, "but I know you would've done the same."

Weren't we all just hungry dogs waiting to be culled, in the end?

Still, she was almost glad that it had been an Automaton round that had ventilated his skull; for as opportunistic as K had been, he'd still once been the closest thing she'd had to a friend, and she didn't know if she would have been able to kill him. Not even to save herself.

She would take his coat in a heartbeat, though.

Ultimately, she decided to forego scavenging new armor - much of it was damaged, and she didn't want to waste time piecing together a complete kit. Plus she figured it would just be extra weight and an unnecessary heat sink in the cold. All she needed was the coat, a satchel, a rifle, and some spare ammunition. Not all, or even a lot, thankfully - if things played out the way she knew they would, there would be plenty of other, better gear and weapons ripe for the picking once the action started.

Helldivers were notoriously wasteful, after all.

Although her standard uniform wasn't exactly cut out for the wintry temperatures, Z still found herself shedding the bloodstained jumpsuit she wore over it. That was just another thing, she thought, that would bog her down and interfere with her movement. The pilfered coat and some physical exertion would be more than enough to keep her acceptably warm.

(And for someone as used to being chilly as Z was, "acceptably warm" was a surprisingly low temperature.)

Once everything was said and done, she took stock of what she had.

K's coat, the CO's satchel and handgun, M's rifle (unfired, the poor bastard) and a handful of extra ammunition… It wasn't much, but it would be enough. It would get her to the starting line, at least.

And from there… we'll see.

For a few long moments, she leaned against a black sandstone boulder, taking everything in one last time.

Then, with a resigned sigh, she committed herself to dragging the bodies to the same location, lining them up, and resting their arms on their chests. It was no burial, but… it seemed better than just leaving them sprawled where they'd fallen. They may have been selfish bastards, the whole lot of them, but they deserved that much respect, at least.

Even if they never would have given it to me.

Especially since they never would have given it to me.

With that last macabre task done, Z shrugged into the coat, gathered up her gear… and started back towards the outpost.

It was almost funny - she should have been afraid, seeing those walls looming up out of the fog, hearing the sounds coming over them and knowing what waited behind them. She should have wanted to run, should've taken advantage of the opportunity to run...

Instead, she just felt… calm. Committed to the path that had been laid out before her, even if it meant walking it with people who had been her enemies only the day before. Who had been painted as her enemy since the first moment she'd ever known of their existence, even, and she was about to learn for herself how many, if any, of the accusations leveled against them were true.

And speaking of truth…

Just as Hatchet had promised, the gates stood open, waiting for her. Z paused, hesitating one last time… and then stepped through.

Keeping a low profile, she followed the exterior wall around the main building, zeroing in on the raised voices she'd heard. She'd been sure that one was the big Devastator's - and she was relieved to see that she'd been right.

She was a little less relieved to see the two Berserkers.

The feeling seemed to be mutual, as they both stopped the work they were doing to snarl menacingly in her direction as she jogged over to where Hatchet stood, clutching her rifle strap in a white-knuckled grip.

"Ah, welcome back, little sister," he said softly - and did he sound a little smug, too? - as he gave her shoulder a gentle nudge, before turning his attention to the Berserkers; "Siz ikiniz, durun şunu, o artık sizin kız kardeşiniz!"

"I feel so welcomed," Z murmured, standing as close to Hatchet as she dared as a piece of the radio tower came crashing down nearby.

"Don't pay them any mind, they want to fight everyone, even each other," he scoffed quietly, looking on as a handful of Troopers set to further breaking down the scrap. "Did you find everything you needed?"

"Mmh, more or less, yeah."

"Is there something you're missing?"

"I, uh, well…" Z hesitated, fiddling with her rifle strap. "…I'm guessing you had to get that ration pack from somewhere, right? Were there any more?"

"…Ah, I see. Yes, there is a cache in storage. If it hasn't been sent to the incinerator yet, you're more than welcome to it. Adze!"

Oh, no.

One of the Troopers looked up from his work.

"Kız kardeşine depo alanını göster, birkaç şeyi alması gerekiyor."

"Neden bunu yapmak zorundayım?!"

"Çünkü sinir bozucuydun. Şimdi git." There was a finality to Hatchet's voice that even she could hear, and the Trooper - Adze - couldn't argue with. Letting his shoulders slump, he muttered something uncomplimentary-sounding, and started towards the doors.

"Go on," the Devastator said, almost fondly; "he will sulk, but he won't bite."

"…Thank you." Z offered a small smile at that, before hurrying after Adze, who didn't seem inclined to wait on her.

Unfortunately for him, she was all too accustomed to keeping up with - and outpacing - jackasses who would gladly leave her behind. The irritated sideways look he gave her when she came up alongside him in the otherwise-empty corridor only made her feel smug.

"Pest," he snipped, focusing his attention forward once more; "I don't know what he sees in a runt like you."

"Dunno, maybe I'm just special," Z just hummed flippantly and shrugged, jamming her hands into her coat pockets. Then, "…and you're the guy who damn near split my head open."

"You shot out my optical assembly."

"Yeah, well… self-preservation instincts kicked in. Sorry about that."

She was sure that Adze's scraping metallic reply meant something mean-spirited, but chose to ignore it, and let the rest of their "walk" pass in silence.

The area he eventually led her to was, indeed, mostly empty, and for a moment she almost feared that what she was after had already been disposed of - until she spotted the familiar casing half-hidden in the very back. She bolted for it with an excited little "ahah!", moving so quickly that she heard Adze recoil in surprise; part of her half-expected him to make a grab for her out of reflex, but he kept his hands to himself, if not his opinions.

"Helldiver garbage," he muttered, standing aside as Z dug into the cache.

"I mean, you're not wrong," she replied as she looked through the contents and picked out the ones that sounded most appealing; "this stuff is all junk, but it's better junk than they feed to the rank-and-file, so I can't complain."

"Tch. No wonder you are so small, then."

"And lemme guess, you're snippy because you didn't get a full recharge."

Adze grated out something angry-sounding; Z just snorted out a laugh, which only wound him up further.

"I have work that isn't being done because I am baby-sitting Hatchet's new pet," he snarled.

"Chill out, Two-Tone, I didn't ask you to hang around. Besides," she finished packing her satchel and yanked the zipper shut, "I've got what I need. It didn't even take that long."

"Two-Tone?!" Adze's voice pitched up and stuttered, like his vocal track was slipping.

"Yeah? Because your, uh," she motioned at her eyes as she got back to her feet, "they don't quite match."

That was the first time she'd ever heard an Automaton screech in outraged indignation.

[roxannepolice]

Out of all the literary quotes that can be thrown at the Master and thoschei, this one from A hero of our time always struck me as a particularly accurate. Like, when the Master rushes over to keep the Doctor from falling in EoT, this is what popped up in my brain. Why?

Well, A hero of our time is up there with Shamela as earliest cases of recuntruction of a genre. Except where Shamela deconstructs stories that are generally regarded as sham - the mindbogglingly noble innocent girl "fixing" a guy, with none of the introspection to be found in Bronte sisters' works - A hero of our time deals with a more regarded - and objectively artisticly more meritorious - genre of byronic heroes. The main character, Grigory Pechorin, ticks all the boxes of a byronic hero - handsome, young, tragic, romantic, what have you - except unlike his predecessors like Byron's Giaour or Pushkin's Eugene Onegin (that Pechorin is a direct parody of, with both having river-based surnames)... he's aware he's a bastard. Like, there's always a part of him that can look at himself from outside and recognize that he's ruining himself and others, and that there are very easy ways to stop this. If you provided a critical analysis and called him a spoiled rich white boy who needs therapy, he'd be the first to agree. He's an homme fatal in the way of quality noir femmes fatales, who - again, in actually good noir films - strike the audience as much, much more than just sexy objects that can't control their sexuality and selfish impulses.

Which is why the above passage strikes the reader so hard. Yes, it's all written in a memoir convention, but we're still not at the point of deconstructing the peotic frames, what is written is to be taken at face value. And what we find is a flood of emotion, of deeply honest love and desperation that's hard to be brushed aside as a pose. And yet it's the pov character/main character that does so. He even goes for biologization of his state, dismissing it as possibly litte more than exhaustion. He recognizes spleen for a endocrinological imbalance that the name suggests.

The book is perfectly, openly unpreachy. There's no moral here to derive about how to live. It just presents the reader with a character that we are deeply confused about: he's clearly capable of deep, beautiful, noble emotions, yet chooses not to act on them, the moment a single physical obstacle (such horse dying from exhaustion) cuts the stream of consciousness. There's something no longer unsentimental as much as anti-sentimental about it. "People are, by nature, good, and if they just followed their natural empathy and feelings"- no, nothing good would come out of it, at least there's no guarantee.

And yet there's an honesty to it. An honesty that's specifically lacking in usual romantic heroes. There's an awareness that this level of dramaticness in life has to involve an element of cynically orchestrating it. And it's not the case of preachy "and therefore we should dismiss all delusions of such emotional rushes as fake", because there is no fakeness. It's the case of even manipulation being stragnely honest about itself, moreseo than truth could ever be. It appears to be saying "the only way to resolve the mystery of Mona Lisa's smile is to scratch all the paint off the beechwood, do you really think you'll find something truer underneath?". In a way, yes, wood was there beofre da Vinci, but I don't really think that's the reality we're looking for.

That's why when either fandom or the source material goes for getting to the Master "undearneath all performance" it strikes me as empty. No, it's not the Doctor knowing the truth of the Master, it's the case of the Master exposing truths about the Doctor.

Like Pechorin of byronic heroes.

[just-sp-in-inginthevoid]

Kisaki and the pursuit of love to fill the lack of it

Manga spoilers

When Takemichi finally gets to confront Kisaki ; he gets his answer as to why Kisaki did all of what he did. And like Takemichi, we get angry and confused. Is this selfish childish reason really why he did all of that ? And the answer is yes, obviously. But it’s not that shallow, nor is it Wakui being lazy.

He wanted Hinata’s love.

Did he ? From what we learn from his and Hinata’s flashbacks, Kisaki was considered ‘creepy’ and ‘heartless’ by other children. Hinata was the only one to talk to him (and willingly!) and saw him as a good kid – even after they stopped seeing each others. She wholeheartedly believes Kisaki is a good person and that he and Takemichi would get along and is shocked when Takemichi tells her Kisaki’s part of a gang, saying “No way ! It doesn’t suit him !”. Which is the direct opposite of how Takemichi, and we the readers, react. “Kisaki, a good guy… ? There’s no way. He’s the inhuman bastard that killed Hina. “

Kisaki’s “Hinata would definitely liked a prodigy like me” isn’t that much an implausible way of thinking (for a child lacking love). Why would Hinata interact with him if she didn’t love him ? It couldn’t be just because she was a nice person, nobody else interacted with him. It didn’t seem like it was out of pity either. They even walked home together and were neighbourgs. It’s a very simple-minded thought – but Kisaki didn’t know better, and never got to. After all, he’s antagonized since the start by most characters, including the protagonist whom we readers follow, and the narrative. For good reasons, yes. But instead of trying to stop everything he planned, it would’ve been a lot more effective to learn about him, to get close to him, and not as to gain informations to use later to win, but in a way to actually form a deep, meaningful, true friendship with him. Because Kisaki doesn’t have friends. Mikey’s a pawn. Hanma’s a pawn. Izana’s a pawn. And they all know it – they accepted Kisaki’s scheems because they had something to gain for it. They’re all relationship built on a deal : I gain something I want and you gain something you wish in return. Mikey wants darkness to consume him, and wants Kisaki to be that part of him (his moon – which btw, good nod to the Pierrot/Kisaki comparaison) whereas Kisaki wants to be Japan #1 delinquent and he needs Mikey’s charisma to do so; Hanma wants his world to stop being so dull and Kisaki gives him that, he makes Hanma’s life as colorful as a circus (once again, the Pierrot/Kisaki comparaison never stops, Wakui really wants you to know his vilain is a clown) and Kisaki needs a pawn who would do everything he asks – and a pawn he can put the blame on ; Izana needs Kisaki to ‘satisfy his heart with his malice’ and to gift him a depressed/grieving Mikey he can ‘tame’ whereas Kisaki needs Izana to get to Mikey even after the Christmas incident and Emma’s murder. So yeah, not friends. Acquaintances ; business partners at best. Hinata then remains the only person who willingly went to talk to him out of kindness and nothing else, she didn’t have any motives.

So Kisaki clings on her. The idea of her. Somebody being nice to him. When nobody else does, nobody else ever did. Does he do anything to deserve kindness ? Why would he need to deserve kindness ? Since when is kindness deserved ? He plans a lot of messed up things, but until Baji’s death, none of them succeeds. Then again, would’ve being kind to him prevented all of what he plotted ? And again, he started being a delinquent solely because Takemichi was one.

Stalking Takemichi already wasn’t a good sign, but that didn’t necessarily mean Kisaki would one day become a merciless murderer. But then Takemichi said he’d be the top delinquent in Japan which prompted Kisaki to research about them and what it meant to be one. Because if Hinata loves Takemichi and Takemichi plans on becoming Japan #1 delinquent, then Kisaki becoming Japan #1 delinquent will make Hinata loves him. She has to. He believes in it so hard, he doesn’t even try to reconnect with her even as a childhood acquaintance during the years it takes him to reach to the top. No, he reaches the top and straight away go ask Hinata in marriage. And the moment she rejects him – even though he’s Japan #1, even though he did everything to undoubtedly gain her love, even though Takemichi isn’t there anymore – he has her killed. Because the only person in his life who has been kind to him, wasn’t anymore and he, after a decade of doing everything he thoughts he has to do to gain her love, couldn’t deal with it. That’s how Takemichi ‘betrayed’ him – Takemichi became his model, a hero, and yet he took the only thing good in his life away (without even being aware of it).

Kisaki doesn’t see himself as a victim – he’s very aware of everything he does. He manipulates, he kills, he doesn’t have an ounce of remorse about it… Yet, he still calls himself a Pierrot. And Pierrot is defined by his unrequited love for Columbine who herself loves Harlequin (who loves Columbine back) which makes him a sad clown. Pierrot is also naive, light-hearted and trustworthy. Which is definitely not Kisaki as a delinquent, but may have been Kisaki in his childhood.

Takemichi only starts to think of him as a human being and not an ‘inhuman bastard’ after his death. Takemichi wants to face him again, because he actually wants to get to know Kisaki. Even if he hates him with everything he has. The talk they had was too short.

At the end of the day, does that change the fact it was incredibly selfish and childish ? No. But Tokyo Revengers is based upon relationships and the impact people have in other people’s life so for it to have its main antagonist have no meaningful relationship at all, and it being the reason why he turned out that way, makes perfect sense. (it’s also the same with Izana who didn’t think he had anyone until the end where he realizes he did, he does, Taiju who thought he only had his siblings to realize he actually technically didn’t have anyone, Hanma whom we don’t see close to anyone but Kisaki (and that means something), Kazutora who found himself with only Baji at some point, and even Sanzu who obsesses over Mikey because in his mind he can’t rely on anyone else anymore – but all of them at least had someone in some way)

Edit: In the Final Timeline, this lack of meaningful relationship that Kisaki has ceases to exist. He becomes friend with Takemichi, Mikey, Toman.. And so he has no reason to obsess over Hinata

His vision of Hinata and their relationship most likely came from his idea of how reality works - a very stereotypical one. They're both childhood friends and then they'll fall in love and he'll go to work and she'll be a housewife and he'll be like everyone else, he'll achieve what everybody else has and/or he will copy his parents/what japanese society (and not only it) deemed a 'normal family'. They'll have one or two kids and it'll be the way it has always been.

Kisaki doesn't know much about interpersonal relationships, so he has a very stereotypical vision of them

[msftsn]

@solivcgant : “   I’m on your side, no matter what. ” things one might need to hear : eiji & lukas.

❛ i know, eiji. i know. ❜ he coughs out, smiling softly at his friend before holding his left side, feeling the smallest amount of blood pool underneath his glove. it'd gone south the moment they discovered that mercenary camp - they had tried to get out by then but it was too late and now here they were, followed and cornered. usually he was a self - sacrificial bastard wanting to feel better about himself by getting hurt. now he was a selfish man that wanted to protect the person he might just call his best (and only) friend. he rests a heavy hand on eijis shoulder, looking into the others eyes for something, anything, only to be met with the stubborn refusal of leaving him behind and abandoning him. his smile softens, gaze almost gentle as he pulls the other into a tight, bone crushing hug. at the end of the day they were two damaged guys doing whatever they could to make it through the day. or so he wants to say, instead his voice is strained but warm when he speaks.

❛ you are my brother, eiji. i'll meet you at the beach. ❜

and with that he pulls away from the hug, glances behind eiji down the small cliff to make sure there were no rocks at the bottom before pushing the other man in the water, yelling a wish for good luck after him before sprinting off towards the opposite direction, hoping to lure their pursuers into the jungle where he could lose them with ease. he can't even remember how many times eiji saved his ass; it was his turn to repay the favor. plus that way the other might be at the beach faster than him so he could enjoy a little bit of their getaways wifi signal.

[beevean]

Alucard + Isaac? With whatever number you like, actually you can ignore this one because I know they're not your thing I'm just embarrassed

Then I chose 26!

…as an apology.

(I also chose to set this after a fic I wrote, To Find The Right One, where Alucard asks Hector to have sex with him to see if he's as broken as he feels to be - he doesn't like it but he and Hector grow closer as a result. Hector also believed Isaac wouldn't care about being "cheated on", the sweet summer child :) )

~

Adrian had to ask for directions to a couple of warlocks to find the alchemy laboratory. Usually, he gave a wide berth to the place: the stink of sulfur and demonic magic was unbearable.

But, clutching the halves of his mother's sword, he knocked at the door of the place where the Devil Forgemasters dwelled.

"Come in," answered Isaac. His voice had an edge in it that did not bode well; however, Adrian had no intention of waiting until Hector came back from his mission. Not for a matter like this.

When Adrian opened the door and stepped inside, two things stopped him in his tracks. One was the pungent stench of dark magic, the same that emanated from his father when in the throes of his fury. The other was the flash of surprise in Isaac's eyes, that deepened into a dark scowl. Perhaps Adrian should have waited.

"Yes, Young Master?" the Forgemaster hissed through clenched teeth.

"Adrian, please," he said, which was the same plea he had given to Hector not too many days ago. He did not wish for Isaac either to defer to him... although, judging by the venom in his words, the reminder might be unnecessary. "I apologize for interrupting your work, but I would like to ask you a favor."

With the utmost care, Adrian placed the sword on a nearby table, where it was not covered in gem dust. Isaac peered over, his face an impassible mask.

"It is my mother's sword... It is what I could salvage from her home..."

He did not know what compelled him to say it. He and Isaac had never had anything resembling a warm relationship, nor did he ever seek it: the boy had always been too much for his eyes and ears, and the more he followed in Father's footsteps, the less Adrian yearned to speak to him. Whatever Hector saw in him, Adrian could not. However, he too knew Mother, and perhaps, they could come to a mutual understanding.

"Lady Lisa's belongings? I will take care of it," Isaac confirmed gravely. He picked up the blade and rotated it in front of his eyes, with slow, tentative movements that were not like him.

"I wouldn't disturb you, but Hector is away..."

"Naturally."

Adrian had not meant to offend him. He was all too aware of how much Father worked his Forgemasters to the bone, and did not need keen senses to notice Isaac's baggy eyes or the way his shoulders slumped. Then, did it come off wrong? Why was Isaac seething, to the point that the tendons in his neck were tense?

A sinking feeling settled in Adrian's stomach. He had done nothing to Isaac personally to incure in his anger... but indirectly...

"Is something wrong?" he dared to ask.

"No, my Prince. I know that you wouldn't bother with me were Hector here for you." His voice dropped to a growl. "I know that the two of you have become very close."

Shame burned in his chest. He was right. Of course, no secret could be hidden for long in his home. Adrian hoped that it was Hector himself who eventually confessed to their tryst, because any alternative would crush him with dread.

"Hector had told me that you wouldn't mind..."

"Of course he would say that!" Isaac yelled all of the sudden, with the full force of his anger; Adrian flinched at the crack in his shout. "As long as he can fuck someone, he'll lie and cheat his way into anyone's bed, the selfish bastard!"

Silence fell upon them. Isaac took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes, craning his neck in a practiced motion to allow his longer bangs to hide him. Adrian had no response to that outburst, and truth to be told he was not sure it was even safe to do so.

Even so, even if Adrian was painfully ignorant in matters of the heart, and his experience with Hector only confirmed so... he could not lie and let Hector shoulder all the blame.

"I will fix the sword in no time, young Master," Isaac muttered, low and deflated, still hiding himself. "If this is all you meant to ask me, I need to get back to work now."

"I apologize."

He had been the one who ultimately led Isaac to tears.

"What for?" the man asked, glossy eyes wide in surprise.

Adrian wrapped himself tighter in his cloak, holding onto the hems. "I asked Hector to help me with that... matter."

He had braced himself for another outburst, but all he got was a slow exhale from the nose.

"It is not about that, Prince. I don't care if you are attracted to him, and I don't care if he wants to put his looks to good use."

That was... not a fair assessment of the events, but Adrian had no time nor desire to correct him, not when Isaac was already volatile like Eastern fireworks.

"Then, what is it about? Please, tell me."

Isaac pursed his lips, instead, as if to prevent any word to be spilled.

In other circumstances, Adrian would have smiled that for once, the two were in the same room and they could keep the quiet. But not like this, not when every muscle in Isaac's body was stiff and his words still echoed in Adrian's mind and he felt as if a warg was gnawing at him. He had believed he had been nervous when Hector slept with him, but the awkwardness between he and Isaac threatened to choke him.

How could he even apologize for breaking his heart? He had trusted Hector, when he told him that Isaac wouldn't care: it fit with the image he had of the redhead, detached and hedonistic and already in bad blood with his friend. They had been terribly wrong, and Adrian had little trouble imagining what sort of thoughts were haunting Isaac.

While not in the matters of romance, he too had experience with feeling betrayed by someone dear to him.

Thus, if words could not suffice, Adrian only knew one other option. Before Isaac could protest, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against his cheek, over the tattoo adoring it: as he imagined, the heat radiating from him nearly singed his mouth.

That was the right thing to do, right?

"What was that?!"

Judging by Isaac's hand snapped in slapping position, apparently not.

"I..."

"Did Hector teach you how to apologize?"

"Yes."

"...why am I not surprised." Isaac barked a sound that could have been a laugh. "I'm not him. I don't need to be coddled. And you are lucky to be my Lord's son, or I would have taught you another invaluable lesson."

"My father would not approve of you talking to me this way," Adrian tugged a smile.

"Oh, so you do care about your authority."

"I do not. I prefer you like this." Adrian bowed his head, not before noticing the confusion on Isaac's face. "Thank you once again for your help. And... once again, I apologize for my lack of consideration."

"Hmph. Good to see Hector did not rub off of you," Isaac snorted, all nose turned up and arms crossed, which Adrian took as his cue to leave.

But, when he threw a glance behind his back, he did not miss Isaac rubbing his tattooed cheek, lost in thought.

Perhaps it was not his role as the Prince that stilled the man's hand.

[gun-chucks]

Kris what is your card suit malevolent crack theory

2nd times the charm @nightvale-is-gay @dyedviolet

im so glad you asked!! i now present:

card suit theory

this is entirely based on one line from kayne, where he calls john "hasturs heart."

after thinking for a while, i took this as heart as in card suit, not heart as in organ- this also works well if we think of yellow as spades.

this is all to say what if there are four fragments of yellow, all contributing different roles as based on card suits. heres my current spiel:

fragment king of spades: yellow

the fist of the king

his violence and exocutioner

fragment king of hearts: john

the heart of the king

his charisma and piousness

fragment king of diamonds: tbd

the lungs of the king

his logic and jury

fragment king of clubs: tbd

the head of the king

his morals [or lack thereof] and judge

With diamonds being the merchant class, I figured the Diamond Fragment [who i have nicknamed Canary] is how John gets sent to earth, gets "trapped" in the book. Canary is sort of the gateway figure.

The Clubs Fragment is like. agriculture, but is also represented more interestingly by adolescence and recklessness, so i desígnate Clubs as the kings morals or lack thereof because. its funny-ish.

Clubs is different from Yellow, who would fall into Violence and Militia as a category, but like lawful violence within the realms of revenge against Arthur. Clubs wouldn't be a paid hitman, Clubs is sensless and selfish.

anyways this is particularly funny because if you think about it it means the king has lost his ability to direct his violence & charm his followers. hes just got a portal and a bastard.

also heres how i draw them

heart: john | spade: yellow | diamond | clubs

[purplefangirl42]

Eyes of Stone, Hearts That Glow

Summary: After being torn apart, Silco and Olillia must find their way back to each other.

Pairing: Silco/OC (Olillia)

A/N: This is the Silco/Arcane half of my follower celebration, which was voted to be a happy Silco & Lil AU by my lovely followers. This AU doesn't have anything to do with Who We Were apart from the use of my OC Lil. Thank you to @silcoitus and @juniper-sunny for beta-reading this for me and to June for giving me the modern AU idea in the first place!

Tags: Modern AU, Angst with a happy ending, breakups and make ups

AO3 Link

“I know what’s good for him, and it’s not you.”

Lil stared blankly at Vander, not believing the words leaving his mouth. While they didn’t have the best relationship, she never thought he would say something like that. 

“How can you say that?” she asked. “Just because we’ve had a few rough spots doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be together.”

“Arguing every other night is not having a few rough spots, Lil.”

“Couples fight sometimes, we aren’t any different…”

“He’s right,” a voice behind her said.

Lil turned away from the large man in front of her to face the speaker. Silco stood in the doorway to the apartment he shared with Vander. He was looking down at the floor rather than at either of them.

“Silco…”

“We fight way too much. At this point, it would be better to call it quits.”

Lil could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Hearing it from Vander was one thing, but hearing it from Silco was another thing entirely. Her heart felt like it was dropping to the floor. She took a step in Silco’s direction, her hand extended toward him.

“I don’t want to call it quits. What we have is worth working things out. I love you, Silco.”

Silco looked up from the floor to meet her gaze. He didn’t have any flicker of regret in his eyes, no sadness, only firm resolve.

“Is that why you called me a selfish bastard last night?”

Lil dropped her hand down to her side and shook her head.

“I said you were acting like one, not that you were one.”

“Same difference,” Silco said with a scoff. “You made your opinion of me quite clear. Vander’s been telling me to end things for weeks, but I was holding out and hoping things would get better.”

Lil looked over her shoulder at Vander, hurt that he would encourage such a thing. Vander’s eyes widened at Silco’s words and he gave her an apologetic shrug. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lil beat him to it.

“I should have guessed. You’ve always hated me. Surprised you didn’t convince him to get rid of me sooner.”

“What? No Lil, I don’t…”

Lil raised a hand to stop him, closing her eyes to prevent the tears from spilling over.

“Save it, Vander.”

“Don’t blame him,” Silco said. “We’re no good for each other, Olillia.”

Lil felt as if she had been slapped. Silco hadn’t called her by her full name in years. Her lip began to quiver as she grabbed her keys out of her pocket. She pulled the key for their apartment off the ring and slammed it down on the counter in front of Vander.

“Put all my stuff in a box and bring it to my place tomorrow. You can leave your key as well. I’ll leave your stuff in a box by the door.”

Lil stormed past Silco, flinging the door open and leaving it open in her retreat. She walked as fast as she could down the hall of their apartment building, just keeping herself from running. Heavy tears streamed down her cheeks, dropping down onto her shirt. She wasn’t watching where she was going and almost ran into their neighbor, Sevika. 

“Lil? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Lil stopped and pointed down the hall, a sob escaping her when she tried to speak.

“What happened?” Sevika asked. “Come to my place, sit down and take a breather.”

Lil shook her head and pushed past the larger woman, the words still stuck in her throat. She didn’t want to sit and take a breather, she wanted to run. As soon as she reached the top of the stairwell, she descended as fast as she dared. At the bottom, she increased her pace and by the time she was at the front door, she was running. She ran, pushing through crowds of people as fast as her feet would take her.

The next afternoon, Lil sat in her bedroom window, staring out into the rainy fog. The weather seemed to have taken her mood into account and decided to match it. She had cried herself into a restless sleep the night before, waking early to the sound of the falling rain. She had scoured her apartment for Silco’s belongings, placing them in a box for him to take when he brought her stuff later. The box was sitting by the door, just as she promised, holding everything that was his or that he had bought for her. Everything except the simple teal pendant she wore around her neck. 

As she looked out into the rain, Lil twiddled the stone between her fingers. She had stared at it for a long time, trying to find it in her to add it to the box. It was the most precious thing she had, and had decided that she couldn’t part with it. Silco had given it to her one time when he was going to be away for a while on a trip. She had said it reminded her of his eyes and he bought it so she could look at it and think of him. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for her to keep it. Thinking of his eyes felt like a stab to her already bleeding heart. She reached up and pulled the necklace over her head, holding it in the palm of her hand. The stone almost felt heavy, as if all of the pain associated with it was inside it. Lil closed her fist around it, hiding it from view. 

A shuffling sound followed by a click came from down the hall, indicating that someone was unlocking her front door. Heavy footsteps entered her apartment, which meant it wasn’t Silco that had come to retrieve his stuff. He had gone the coward’s route and sent Vander in his stead. Lil heard the thud of a box being set down before the door closed. She hadn’t heard any retreating footsteps, which confused her.

“Lil? Are you here?” Vander’s voice called out.

Lil closed her eyes and leaned against the window, silently willing him to go away. Unfortunately, she had left her phone out in the kitchen when she had been out there earlier, so it was obvious that she was still home. The heavy footsteps started again, making their way down the hall until they reached her bedroom.

“Lil…”

“Just take the stuff and go, Vander. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

Vander didn’t seem to want to follow her instructions, instead walking in and sitting on the end of her unmade bed. She could feel him staring at her, but she kept her eyes firmly shut. If she looked at him, she knew she would break down again.

“He couldn’t even come himself, the coward,” she said bitterly.

“He didn’t want to risk seeing you again,” Vander said.

Lil sniffed and shook her head. She didn’t think he would feel so badly about her so soon.

“Am I that awful? That he couldn’t bear to lay eyes on me?”

“If he saw you again, he would take back everything and never leave your side. He loves you.”

Lil let out a disbelieving laugh.

“No he doesn’t. He wouldn’t do this to me if he did.” 

Lil heard Vander sigh and the creak of the bedsprings as he stood up. 

“I’m sorry this happened, Lil.”

“No you’re not. You wanted this to happen. I’m no good for him, remember?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. You didn’t deserve it. I just hated seeing the pain you put each other through,” he said, taking a step toward her, “Believe it or not, I don’t hate you, Lil. I made the suggestion that you take a break from each other to sort things out, I didn’t think he’d take it so literally.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me causing pain anymore. Just take the stuff and go.”

Lil got up from her seat at the window and walked past Vander into the hall. She saw the box he had brought sitting on her counter. Right on top of the rest of the stuff was a bracelet. Much like her necklace, Silco had a bracelet with a brown stone. He had said it was only fair that he had a reminder of her eyes too.

Her fist curled tighter around the necklace in her hand as she felt tears welling up in her eyes again. Her heart clenched in her chest and she felt like her breath had been stolen. Vander came down the hall to stand right behind her. Lil held out her hand with the necklace and dropped it into his hand when he extended it. 

“I had planned on keeping this, but I guess he made a different decision.”

Vander sighed again and walked over to the box with Silco’s stuff in it. He placed the necklace in the box and lifted it into his arms. 

“I left the key in the box,” he said.

Lil nodded her head to acknowledge that she heard him. He turned the knob of her front door with his free hand and left her apartment, pausing in the hall outside the door.

“He really does love you, Lil.”

Lil didn’t respond. She crossed the room and shut the door in his face, silencing him. Leaving the box on the counter, she walked back toward her bedroom. When she reached it, she fell onto her stomach on the soft surface of her bed and buried her face in her pillow, letting the tears she had been holding back fall freely.

Silco tore through the contents of his bedroom, searching desperately for his missing bracelet. It was the one thing he had planned on keeping. Even if Lil never wanted to see him again, he never wanted to forget the color of her eyes. He never wanted to forget the way they sparkled in the sunshine, or how they glowed in the moonlight. 

The sound of the front door opening grabbed his attention, signaling that Vander had returned. Silco left his disaster of a bedroom behind and walked out into the main room of their apartment. Vander placed the box down on the counter before turning to look at him.

“Have you seen my bracelet?” Silco asked, “the one with the brown stone?”

Vander froze, a look of regret covering his face.

“You left it on the counter, I thought you wanted it to go in the box.”

Silco’s heart sank. He hadn’t wanted to send it with the stuff. He shook his head and rubbed his hands over his face. The one thing he would have had to remember her was gone. 

“I’m sorry, Sil.”

Vander reached into the box and pulled out a necklace. Lil’s necklace. He handed it to Silco, guilt in his eyes.

“She was planning on keeping it, but when she saw the bracelet in the box, she handed it over and kicked me out.”

Silco held the necklace tenderly in his hands, his thumb brushing over the teal stone. He remembered Lil’s face when he had gifted it to her. She had been overjoyed and he never saw her without it after that day. The face in his memory morphed from joy to sorrow as her face from the night before took its place.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “I need her.”

He moved toward the door, but didn’t get far before Vander stopped him. The larger man stood between Silco and his exit, preventing him from leaving. 

“Silco, no. What’s done is done. You both need some time to heal and figure yourselves out.”

Silco clutched the necklace tightly in his hand as he thought about Vander’s statement. Maybe he was right. He would give Lil some time and then he’d try to talk to her. Even if they couldn’t salvage their romance, perhaps their friendship could survive. She was too important to him to let go. 

2 weeks later….

Silco took a deep breath before he pressed the call button on his phone. He held it up to his ear and waited as it rang and rang. Eventually the line went dead, not even offering Lil’s voicemail message. Confused, he hung up and tried again with the same result. He brought up her contact and sent her a message.

When you get this, please call me. I want to talk.

A few seconds after he sent his text, he received a message in return.

Your message could not be delivered to the recipient.

Silco hummed in confusion. He heard a noise in the hall and opened the door to see who was out there. He saw Sevika leaving her apartment and called out her name. She turned to him and raised her hand in greeting. He walked down the hall toward her and showed her his phone.

“Did Lil change her number?” he asked.

Sevika shook her head in response to his question.

“That message usually means your number has been blocked,” she said, an edge of sympathy in her tone.

Silco nearly dropped his phone in shock. Lil blocking his number had never crossed his mind. Between this and the returned necklace, the message was clear. She was done with him.

3 years later….

Lil tapped her fingers on the desk beside her laptop as she scrolled through the job postings before her. None of them sounded like a good fit for her, apart from one. A bartending job at a place called The Last Drop. It seemed to have a decent wage and it wasn’t too far from where she currently lived. Her search said that it opened at 4 o'clock, which meant that she could go in to see if they still had the opening in about an hour. 

Lil quickly hopped in the shower and started to make herself look presentable for an interview. She put the last touches on her makeup and pulled her purple hair back into a neat ponytail before exiting her room. Her roommate and friend, Mai, sat on the couch watching TV and looked up when she entered the living room. 

“Where are you heading off to?” she asked.

“There’s a bar not too far from here that’s looking for a bartender. I thought I’d head down and see if they would be willing to give me an interview.”

Mai waved at her as she walked out the door, wishing her luck. Lil looked up the address on her phone and followed the directions until she found herself at the door of a cozy looking bar. The open sign wasn’t lit yet, but a paper sign on the door advertised the open position, telling interested people to come in between 2 and 4. Lil pulled on the door handle and found it unlocked, so she entered the bar. 

Gazing around, she could see that it was as cozy on the inside as it had looked from the window. A bell above her tinkled as the door opened and she heard a voice call out a greeting from the back room. A large figure emerged from a door behind the bar, his hand half raised in greeting. The beard was different, but she knew the face behind it. 

“Vander,” Lil whispered.

Vander crossed his arms over his large chest and gave her a small smile.

“Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

Lil crossed the room to stand beside the bar. She appraised the man before her, taking in how much he had changed in 3 years. Vander leaned on the bartop, looming over her even in that position.

“You look good, Lil.”

“Thanks, so do you,” she said. “I like the beard.”

Vander chuckled and rubbed his hand over his chin.

“Glad someone does. Silco says it makes me look old.”

“Silco?” Lil said, her breath hitching in her throat. “How is he?”

“Ask him yourself,” Vander said. “Hey Sil, get out here!”

Lil backed away from the bar at his shout. She wasn’t prepared for this. She hadn’t seen Silco since the night he broke her heart. She had blocked his number and completely cut him out of her life. Would he even be happy to see her?

The door to the back room swung open again, a lean figure emerging from the room behind it. Silco was holding a clipboard in his hands, looking at some papers clipped to it. He didn’t look up as he entered the main room of the bar, walking over to the two of them with his eyes glued to his paperwork.

“What is it, Vander?” he asked.

Vander rolled his eyes and tapped Silco on the shoulder to get his attention. Silco finally looked up from his clipboard and his teal eyes met Lil’s brown ones. The clipboard slipped from his hands and clattered to the floor at his feet. Silco’s mouth hung slightly open, a shocked expression plastered on his face.

“Lil?”

Lil tried to give him a smile, but she couldn’t get her mouth to move like she wanted. Seeing him standing in front of her after so long made her heart ache. It opened all the wounds like they were freshly made. It seemed like her decision had been made, she couldn’t handle this.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

Lil turned away from the two men and started moving towards the door as quickly as she could.

“Lil, wait!” Silco’s voice called out from behind her. 

She heard a scuffling sound, followed by a thump and rapid footsteps across the worn floor of the bar. Her hand paused over the handle for the door, shaking as it hovered above it. She heard the footsteps stop directly behind her and felt a soft touch at her elbow.

“Please don’t go.”

Lil closed her eyes and took a steadying breath before turning. When she opened them again, she found herself face to face with Silco. He was looking down at her with a pleading expression, his hand still resting on her elbow.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

Lil let out a huff and turned her gaze away from him, instead staring at the floor. Silco placed his finger under her chin and gently lifted it so she would meet his gaze again. Unlike the last time she had looked in his eyes, they were full of emotion. The regret she had wished to see before was front and center, flanked by hope and adoration. 

“I mean it, Lil. I never wanted things to end like that between us.”

“Then why did you let it happen?” she asked softly. 

“Because I was angry, hurt, and frustrated. I didn’t expect you to shut me out with such finality.”

“That is a proper response to having your heart torn out and stomped on,” Lil said, pulling away from his touch. “I’m sorry for the things I said, for calling you selfish, but I didn’t deserve that, Silco.”

“I had hoped we could at least salvage our friendship. It seemed foolish to throw away years of closeness because we didn’t work out as a couple.”

“I don’t think I could have done that,” Lil said, taking a step back. “I still can’t. I’m sorry.”

Lil turned and pushed on the handle, stepping through the door and walking out onto the sidewalk. She thought she had cried all of her tears for Silco years ago, but once again she could feel them starting to fall. She wiped at her face, angry at herself for reacting this way. 

“Lil! Please stop!” Silco called out.

Lil couldn’t stop this time, so she forced herself to keep walking. She could hear footsteps behind her and for a second time, she felt a touch at her elbow. This time it was more insistent, pulling her to a stop and dragging her sideways. Lil found herself being dragged into an alleyway before she pulled her elbow from Silco’s grip.

“What part of ‘I can’t do this’ don’t you understand?” she shouted, rounding on him.

“You don’t even know what I want,” he retorted.

“I don’t care what you want! I stopped caring the moment I saw the bracelet in the box.”

Silco reached into the front of his shirt and pulled something out. It was her necklace. He was wearing her necklace.

“If you want a reminder of your own eye color, you can just look in a mirror,” she said. “What does you wearing that have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t put the bracelet in the box. Vander did. If I had a choice, I would never have parted with it.”

Lil was at a loss for words. She had never thought it made it into the box accidentally. She had blocked his number less than a week after the break-up, so he wouldn’t have had a chance to explain if he had wanted to.

“Why are you wearing that?” she asked, pointing to the necklace.

“Even if it wasn’t the right color, it was the last thing of you that I had. I wanted to talk to you, but you shut me out. So this is what I had.”

“Why would you want a reminder of me? I’m no good for you, remember?”

Silco stepped towards her, causing her to take a step back. He continued moving closer until her back was against the alley wall. He braced one arm on the wall beside her head, leaning in.

“You were the best thing in my life. I loved you more than I can put into words.”

Lil felt a lump in her throat and cleared it before speaking again.

“Loved?”

Silco moved closer to her, his face mere inches from hers. His eyes darted down to her lips before moving back to meet hers. He raised his free hand to cup her cheek gently. 

“Love. I still love you more than words can express. You are stubborn, headstrong, beautiful, and you drive me crazy. But, I have never been able to get you out of my head.”

Lil felt her heart beating a mile a minute. How long had she waited for those words? How many times had she heard him say that he loved her in her dreams? It seemed too good to be true. 

“Silco…”

“Please say you feel the same,” he whispered, desperation heavy in his voice. 

Lil lifted her hand, pulling her sleeve up her arm to reveal the bracelet sitting on her wrist. She held it up where Silco could see it. His eyes widened in surprise and that hopeful glimmer from before returned.

“I could never stop loving you, Silco.”

Silco surged forward, pressing his lips against hers in a desperate kiss. The hand that had been cupping her cheek moved to the back of her head, holding her in place. His other hand left the wall and moved to her waist, pulling her body flush against his. Lil wrapped her arms around his torso, holding on as tightly as he was.

Eventually, they ran out of air and had to pull apart. Silco didn’t release his hold on her, instead pulling her into a tight embrace. Lil rested her head against his chest, her hands moving up his back to rest on his shoulder blades, holding him tightly against her. A shaky whimper escaped her lips as she released the emotions that had been building in her for so long.

Silco shushed her and began to gently rock her back and forth as she cried into his shirt. His hand rubbed comforting circles on her lower back. He turned his head and placed a kiss against her hair before leaning away from her a bit. His hand moved from the back of her head back to her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek to wipe away her tears.

“I love you, Olillia.”

A final soft sob escaped her before she lifted up on her toes to press another kiss to his lips. This one only lasted a moment before she pulled away.

“I love you, Silco.”

Silco smiled at her tenderly, and she could swear she saw the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes as well. 

“Don’t you start crying, or we’ll never recover,” Lil said.

Silco laughed softly and looked away from her, staring up at the sky in an effort to get his eyes to cooperate. Satisfied that the crisis was over, he looked back down again.

“Was there a reason you decided to walk back into my life today?” he asked.

“Oh! I was going to apply for the bartender job!” 

Silco smirked at her and reached down to grab her hand. He started to walk to the edge of the alley, pulling her along as he walked.

“I think I can pull some strings and get you the job. I know the owners afterall.”

When she had left her apartment, Lil would never have foreseen this outcome. It was more than she could ever dream of. She would have a job, and she would have Silco back in her life. 

1 week later…

Silco looked across the bar from where he was sitting with Sevika at one of the high tables. Lil stood behind the bar, talking to patrons as she served them their drinks. Her lips were pulled back in a bright smile, which drew his gaze to her face. His eyes drifted down to her neck, where a teal stone once again graced the hollow of her throat. He reached for his own wrist, fingers grazing the brown stone resting there.

It felt right, having it returned to him. It gave him the comfort he had been lacking the past few years. But, there was something else that surpassed it. The pair of eyes that matched it. The ones that still sparkled in the sunshine and glowed in the moonlight. The ones that lit up when they met his own, causing his heart to glow just as bright. 

A/N: Give this a like, comment, and reblog and let me know what you think! Divider credit to @firefly-graphics.

[worldhell-archiving]

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . 𝐼𝒻 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝐿𝑜𝓈𝑒, 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒟𝒾𝑒 ◞ 𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖊 . accepting. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ @naitfall ⤸ send   “ look at me. “   for my muse’s reaction to yours grabbing mine by the chin and forcing mine to look at them during a tense / highly emotional moment. 

Every day was the same in the shit hole they pathetically called home. It would break just about anyone. The knife in hand falls, splashing in the mudded, disgusting sewage that littered this area ; there is no innocent blood down here, but still, as it drips down his hands he finds no comfort in that known fact. He was supposed to be the level-headed one among their group. There was no survival to this slaughter, only desperation, and frustration, and a vile evil that not even the drain water could wash away from the moment he picked up that knife, and lost it.

He'd approve wouldn't he? As silence remains heavy in the air, a broken laughter bubbles in the depths of his throat. He's killed before. Farlan never had clean hands since the day he was born. And still. Bloodied hand covers his face as he leans his head back, his pitiful chuckling driving his feelings to surface.

He hears Levi's footsteps approach, then stop a short distance. Don't. He doesn't want to hear anything from you. ❝ What was it even for? Haha ... survival? bullshit. They weren't even carrying anything. Isn't that just it! Come on, when has that ever matter to the people down here anyway?! ❞ He doesn't realise how his voice breaks, the volume in which it sharpens; he felt mad, like he was losing his mind, rotting with this place.

It's a situation gone wrong; a perfect scenario where Farlan thrived. But he doesn't. His mind goes blank, he's tired, he's overdoing things and that isn't normal. These people weren't murderers. They weren't even thieves. Just low lives. Pathetic bastards. So desperate of him. They just wouldn't give him what he wanted. That was fine. He'd follow them, spy on them, gather information to use against them ; as he always did to those who were just trying to survive as much as he was.

Instead, they turn, and he takes the opportunity. It silences them, it protects him, and he could still get what he needed. Haha ... hahah!

❝ We're no better then them ... ! Haha- fuck ... selfish, despicable-! Give anyone the opportunity to take someone's life down here, and we'll take it without hesitation. Seriously, Levi, what the hell! Thinking that leaving this place could- when we're all- haha, completely fucked! .. Dammit!! ❞

He doesn't know what he's saying anymore, and it's not helping to relinquish the disgust he feels towards himself; this is the despicable shit his father would have pulled. Farlan was better then that. Better then all those down here who relished in this shithole environment- but he wasn't. If this is what he could do in desperation, for absolutely nothing, then even he was-

A rough hand grabs him by the chin and the darkness clouding his vision is met instead by piercing ice blue. Look at me. His breath catches in his throat, and from the chaos in his head he finds grounding in the harshness of Levi's stare, and the peering concern that lied in the depth of his direct gaze.

❝ Levi ... ❞ Farlan's own eyes were burning, strained and tired, exhausted by himself, and without tears to fall. The pounding in his heart is audible to him, conscious of just how frantic he'd become.

Levi had a good heart, underneath it all. In this tense moment, he finds himself wondering, does he know he deserves to stare at the open skies more then any of them? Yeah. That gives him enough comfort to settle his racing anxiety and those damning thoughts.

❝ ... heh. ❞ Jeez. Just look what conundrum they've found themselves in. At least Levi hadn't tried to give him any words of comfort; right now, it might have just fuelled his stress. Well, when was Levi known for giving direct consolation anyway. He's usually the one with the knife. No reason to worry either of them; however exhausted it was, he grinned.

❝ Well ... ❞ He takes a light hold of Levi's wrist, gently tugging his hand away, and letting out a quiet breath. ❝ Either way, we're getting to the surface, don't worry -- I've not forgotten. ❞ He won't forget why they're here, why they keep striving forward to rid themselves of this world under the surface.

Eyes close as his grin widens; don't think about the bodies. Don't worry about the blood. It's easier to clear his mind when he's focusing on Levi. ❝ Not my best moment. Sorry about that. I'm fine now. So .. look at me? Got to confess, didn't think I'd hear that from you. It's not bad though. ❞ It's not teasing if he means it, so don't get annoyed.

Oh, but ... ❝ I should probably clean up here. ❞ He rolls his shoulders, the casual masking immediate and thorough. Farlan knows he doesn't need to put on a façade around Levi; still, he needs to clear his mind of those thoughts. It won't stop them. Nothing will. Not until they are finally out of here.

[yourbuerokrat2]

The intersting thing with a Q that would actually just snatch Picard up and not only force him to be with Q (at least give this man some variety and just force him to be your travel buddy and partner) in such an extent that he forces Picard to remain in one place, Qs personal space/room/part of the Continuum is that such a Q would be way more selfish (or delusional) and possessive than I like to think he could be in canon.

The unintentionally funny thing about this is that Captain jean-Luc Picard is no deinty and sheltered young goddess of spring so Picard would make for a very angry and I think even mean captive. Which, ironically enough, is probably one of the reasons Q kidnapped Picard in the first place. Q would have probably gotten bored with the actual Persephone quite quickly but a stubborn middle aged space ship captain who has been through some hostage situations is just that much more entertaining and interesting.

And even though the situation and the clear obsession that led Q to this action would be quite terrifying Qs overall behavior and personality would neither be terrifying nor 'charming' enough to fit that of a god of death.

I think in this case Guinan could grant them access to the Continuum considering she actually seems to know some Qs. How Q could get Picard to swallow the seeds is somethiing I can't think of right now because this man would be suspicious of any strange looking food and he could be stubborn enough to go the route of 'going on strike until you free me'.

Q being a utter bastard getting the crew to play one of his games making them think that they will be able to get their captain is peek bastard. Probably only said something along the lines of 'It won't hurt your chances'. That the chances were zero from the start is not something Q mentions until after they won.

Q would snap himself and Picard into the outfits of Hades and Persephone with fitting thrones. I can just imagine the crews different reactions to seeing their captain in an dress befitting to a goddess of spring. Picards right eye twitching slighty as Q tries and fails to flirt with him.

The fanart to this is great, really makes me think that this is Q sees his kidnapping or even his 'relationship' with Picard in this AU. Although it's tellinig that even tough Picard looks really elegant in this he does not look very happy.

It's just both sad and funy that to the rest (the crew, the Continuum, and especially Picard) Q keeping Picard like this comes less across as 'romantic' and more as Q having lost a bit of what remained of his sanity and now refuses to share his favorite 'toy' with anyone. Which is also why the Continuum would be willing to at least help Picard a little bit. Because even though they are happy for the distraction and one-way direction of mind Picard unwillingly provides Q with, to the Continuum as a whole ending up as their most chaotic members favorite 'possession'/'toy'/whatever the human is to Q is likely considered a fate worse than banishment or none-existence.

Although I can see Q 'throwing a tantrum' as everyone would see it once he figures out that the other Qs want to take Picard away from him. Even if they reassure him that it's only temporary.

It also sounds like there are loophole s(because the Continuum does not really want to deal with Q sulking and the tantrum and the heartbreak that would undoubteldly follow Picards death) and that is that the deal entails how this deal of 6 months in the human/organic and 6 months means that Picard won't die and that is going tot be how Picard will spend his eternity. The other loophole is that nowhere does it say that Q is not allowed to visit and play with Picard during the six months he is outside of the Continuum.

Hey guys, how about Hades!Q and Persephone!Picard AU where Picard is being forced to spend half a year at the Q Continuum and basically becoming a half-a-year consort to Q, which obviously makes Q very happy and Jean-Luc not so much.

Q originally kidnapped Jean-Luc and forced him to stay with him in the Q Continuum by making him eat the pomegranate seeds, which keep Picard away from his world. When his crew come in for rescue, they try to play Q’s games to win their Capitan back, not knowing that he is already doomed.

Once they know, Picard begs Continuum to let him go. They agree that what Q did was not according to the rules but also that since Picard's arrival, he is much quieter and less nuisance to others.

They make a deal with Picard which allows him to be back to his world for 6 month out of 12 a year and the rest he has to spent as Q’s consort in the Q Continuum.

Needs to be worked on but you got the idea.

[diamond-coral]

Defiance

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

WARNINGS: noncon/DUBCON: (oral sex (m and f receiving), intercourse, spitroasting), degradation, sexism. Please read at your own discretion!!!!!

Summary: You ignore Steve’s order on a mission. Him and Bucky have had enough of your bratty attitude.

“You’re decision was fucking stupid! I wasn’t going to follow an order that jeopardized the objective of the mission we’ve been planning for months!”

It had been like this for the past hour. You, Bucky, and Steve in the conference room at the compound in a screaming match over your little insubordination act on the most recent mission.

“Fine! Call my order, the one that ensured your safety, stupid. But what you did was reckless and impulsive and not only put your life on the line, but the others’ as well. Jesus, y/n, how do you even think like that?!” Letting out an exasperated sigh, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and began pacing. “Your thought process was selfish and careless and you need to learn to listen instead of behaving like a brat.”

“He’s right,” Bucky chimed in. “Man I miss the good ol’ days when women knew their place and didn’t constantly have a snarky mouth on them.”

You cast the dark haired man a warning look, but he just smirked in response. He never made his sexist remarks directed toward anyone else. Only you. It was like he was aware of just how much his little comments riled you up, and just said them to make you see red, working them into conversations when you and the others would hang out. You’d get angry, spewing insults and jabs in his direction, and yet, it wouldn’t do more than simply amuse him.

“Bucky, I swear to God, you better not fucking bring this bullshit up right now or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what, hmm? You think you’re a match for me, y/n?” His position on his chair, leaning back, legs spread, arms crossed, only added to the cocky grin that was now plastered on his face. “All I’m saying is that I feel like it’d be a win-win situation if you stayed back on the missions. You wouldn’t have to worry your pretty little head about high risk missions, and we’d get someone to stay back and take care of the base, maybe cook us a meal or two.” He got up and stalked towards you. You took a step back and hit the edge of the meeting table causing his lip to twitch upwards. “Even better…” He leaned down to speak next to your ear and you shuddered as his warm breath travelled down your neck. “We’d have a pretty little whore always ready to help us when we’re worked up.”

Your eyes went wide and you used both you arms to push him away from you (but in all honesty you were pretty sure he just stepped back on his own accord). “W-what the fuck Barnes,” you sputtered and glanced at Steve for help or some sort of interference, but Steve looked unphased as he rested his back against the wall, arms crossed. The only indication that he was intrigued were his blue eyes that glimmered with interest.

“Come on, Doll, I know you want it. You know we hear your pulse quicken every time one of us walks in a room.” He tapped his ear. “Enhanced hearing comes in handy.”

You felt your face grow warm, eyes on the floor as you remembered all the times your heart would jackhammer every time one of the supersoldiers came into view. Every night that your back would arch as you orgasmed to the thought of them with their hands on you. Every one night stand that you imagined one of them on top of you. You didn’t even notice as he neared until his right hand was brought under your chin to tilt your gaze to meet his own. His bright eyes held amusement. The bastard found this funny.

“Your despicable Barnes,” you spat.

“And you’re cute when you lie,” he said.

Before you can counter, his lips attacked your own, soft to the touch yet harsh in action as he brought his metal arm to snake around your waist to lift you up so sat on the table behind you. You let out a soft groan, and he used the opportunity to snake his tongue into your mouth. The unwelcome intrusion broke you out of your trance and you pulled away.

“Fuck you.” You began to get up, but he pushed you back down, this time all the way until you were on your back.

“Oh, gladly doll,” he murmured. He yanked everything off your legs before he lowered himself on his knees. “Catch,” he called to Steve as he threw your lacy panties in the broad supersoldier’s direction. You didn’t miss as Steve pocketed them.

“What the hell are you-.” You cut yourself off with your own squeal as Bucky licked a stripe up your folds. 

You began to buck your hips at the sensation in hopes of throwing him off and cutting your embarrassment short, but his metal arm came up and laid across your stomach. Bucky inhaled and let out a groan. “Holy shit you smell good, doll.” He flattened his tongue and licked another stripe before burying his face in your cunt and zeroing in on your clit. 

You whimpered as you felt his warm tongue circle your needy clit. The sounds that echoed throughout the room were lewd as he ate you out as if it were his last meal. 

“Bucky oh my God, please,” you begged as another slurping sound resonated throughout the room, but whether it was for him to stop or keep going, you couldn’t tell anymore.

“Taste. So. Good.” He said between each lick to your pussy. He inserted two thick, calloused fingers into your hole and pulled his mouth away, noticing your whine. “You say you don’t want this but your cunt says otherwise doll.” He smirked, and began to move his fingers faster, the squelching sounds seemingly spurring him on.

He put his mouth back down on you and began attacking you with more vigor. With each swipe over your sensitive nub, you could feel the coil inside of you begin to form. It was only when he wrapped his lips around your lips and began to also suck did you feel it tighten. He hummed against you and the vibrations went straight to your core. 

“Fuck Bucky. Yes,” you cried. He delivered another harsh suck and your hand flew to his hair.

Even as he ate you out you could feel his cocky grin form against you as you began to grind your hips to push you closer to the edge. A few minutes later, you came. Hard. You moaned as white hot pleasure overtook your whole body, covering the shame of cumming even though ten minutes ago you were practically recoiling at Bucky’s touch.

Bucky pulled away, mouth glistening with your arousal, and watched as your cunt pulsed and your body muscles contracted in your post orgasm haze. Thirty seconds later, you were hit with a wave of clarity, but before you could grab you clothes and get the fuck out of the room, a voice came from beside Bucky.

“Finally,” Steve said, and you jumped, not knowing he had moved from his spot. You noticed he’d taken his shirt off and there was now a very prominent bulge in his slacks.

You began to inch away from the man. “Steve, I-,” you began.

“Call me Captain, sweetheart,” he mused as he grabbed you by your hair and maneuvered you so you were standing, your front against the table. He pressed himself against your ass. “You know, we still need to fix your bratty attitude.” And with that his hand was flat against your back and bending you over the table. You grit your teeth as the table dug into your pelvis. “What do you think Buck? 10?”

“I would’ve said 20 but it’s not like a call the shots around here,” Bucky said, shrugging.

“What?” you said, and you were about to turn around to see what they were talking about, but a harsh smack to your ass quickly stopped you. 

“Count,” Steve growled while his hand came down for another.

“One!” You yelped.

Another hit to your ass. “One, what?” he asked in a teasing voice. He was mocking you.

“One, Captain,” you said with as much venom as you could.

“Good girl,” he mused before he delivered another to your other cheek.

“Two, Captain.” You were embarrassed at how your voice came out as a moan.

Eight more later, your ass was stinging as he rubbed it with a large hand before that same hand dipped into your folds to feel your arousal. “Gosh, you really must be such a slut if you got wet to that,” he chuckled.

He held his digits in front of you. “Open up, sweetheart.”

You stared daggers up at him but opened your mouth anyways, licking your own arousal from his fingers. Steve let out a satisfied hum before he pulled his fingers away.

“Now, what to do about that mouth of yours, hmm?” 

He walked around the table behind you, and you bit back bile as you heard him work his zipper down. 

“Turn her around Buck,” the Captain ordered, and in no time, Bucky was on you. Despite your struggles he manhandled you onto your hands and knees on the table so you were turned around facing Steve’s now hard member. “Suck.”

When you did nothing but stare back up at him, a harsh slap was delivered to your face. Steve bent down so he was eye level with you.

“You’re gonna listen to your fuckin’ Captain and be a good little slut and suck your Captain’s dick, or I’ll choke you till your unconscious and fuck your throat anyways,” he seethed.

Hesitantly you opened your mouth, and Steve shoved his cock in all the way, groaning when he hit the back of your throat.

“See Buck? Women are all the same nowadays. All bark and no bite. Just need to be shown their place and then they become good little fucktoys. Mindless whores.” 

Steve talking to Bucky right over you while he slid his dick in and out of his mouth made your face burn in humiliation, and even worse, turned you on, but you had little time to process it as Bucky’s hands were on your ass shortly, spreading it to get a good view of your pussy.

“Fuck Stevie, she’s wet.”

“Guess- you gotta- help her out.” Steve’s head was thrown back, face contorted into an expression of pure bliss, as he managed to string together a couple words to reply.

Ignoring your whines of protest around Steve’s dick, Bucky freed his own shaft and jerked himself off a few times before impaling you. You screamed a little at the intrusion that burned you walls, but Steve just ignored you and revelled in the vibrations it sent down his dick.

“Fuck she’s tight,” Bucky moaned, and began moving.

You whines and whimpers soon turned to moans, mixing with the obscene noises the two supersoldiers were making. Seconds and minutes began to blend together and you lost track of time as Steve and Bucky showed little mercy on you, chasing their own pleasure. As Bucky’s thrusts grew more brutal and quicker, your cunt began to clench around him.

“Shit. I think she’s about to come.” Bucky let out a breathy laugh as he picked up his pace.

“Told you. Mindless whore,” Steve replied, as both his hands were locked in your hair, pulling your mouth up and down his length.

At Steve’s words and Bucky’s renewed vigor, the dam inside you broke. 

“That’s it doll, milk my cock.” Bucky felt you practically squeeze the life out of his cock as you gushed around him, and his thrusts began to stutter. “Gonna. Come.” And with one final harsh thrust from him he bottomed inside you, cock twitching while his cum spilt deep into you.

Steve gave a few more thrusts into you throat before he spilt down your throat. He looked down at you and chuckled.  

“You look so good like this; Lips wrapped around my cock while you swallow my cum.”

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been a few minutes. Bucky and Steve were tucking themselves away back into their pants while you sat on the table catching your breath.

“Told you bringing in Bucky would be fun, sweetheart,” Steve said, cupping your cheek as he looked at you, panting and completely out of it. “But did you really purposely ignore my orders on a mission just to get me riled up?”

You sat up on the table. “I like it better when you're rough,” you giggled before giving him a peck on the lips. “And you…” You pointed a finger at Bucky. “If I find any bruises from that damn metal hand of yours, I’ll kill you.”

“I told you earlier, you really think you could take me?” Bucky teased, mouth in his classic lopsided grin.

A knock on the meeting room door sounded through the room before you could make a snarky comeback.

“Hey fuckers,” Tony’s muffled voice came through the otherside of the closed door. We have soundproof bedrooms for a reason. You guys better fucking clean up after acting like a bunch of horny teenagers.”

[house-of-slayterr]

I Need a Vacation Pt. 3: Into the Wolves Den

Tag List: @vechkinfan @dickspaghettii @yor72 @thelostboyswife @panickinanakin1 @slashers-and-witchcraft

Stefan's POV:

It had been a while since we saw Y/N. I was used to her breaking off from the group for "Alone time" but normally she would have texted me by now. I let out a heavy sigh, which Damon rolled his eyes at.

"Don't worry brother, our little pet can't have gone too far."

Elana slapped him in the back of the head for that one.

"Don't the werewolf jokes ever get old for you Damon?" Mathew asked.

Always the one to come to a pretty girl's rescues. Matt just had to be the hero in everything he did. I looked up to the sky to see the moon looking very full. Everyone else eyes followed.

"Right, I forgot we extended the trip, we were supposed to go hoe before the full moon." Caroline said more to herself than anyone else.

"Shit! How did I forget about that?" Tyler cursed himself.

"Because you're a selfish bastard who thinks the world revolves around you." Carline snipped.

Bonnie nodded her head at the statement.

"Yeah, remember that time you were dating Viki and she got turned and killed because you weren't there for her."

"Bonnie!" Jeremy scolded.

"Sorry Matt, I know you miss your sister."

"No, you're right Bon, it's fine. How about I try to call her and see if she picks up?" Matt suggested.

"I've already called her six times." I explained. "Last few text messages are still on delivered."

"Thats not reassuring." Elena said.

"Great now we have to go on a wild wolf chase. I swear to god Tyler, if your sister bites me, I will kill her."

"You won't lay a fucking hand on her Damon, or I'll bite you too. What the fuck is your problem?"

I watched as Tyler got up in Damons's face. We wouldn't get anywhere if these two were fighting.

"Boys!" I spoke.

Tyler finally backed up. Everyone turned to me, I was usually the one to come up with most of our plans.

"Let's split up in teams of two, we can cover more ground that way. Everyone keep your phones on, call the second you find her ok. And be careful, we know her temper is different in her wolf form. She out there alone and probably scared right now."

Nobody seemed to disagree with the plan of action. We all picked a direction to head off in. Jeremey stayed with Bonnie, they could both handle themselves, but neither of them had vampire speed. It wouldn't be as easy for them to cover ground quickly.

"We'll find her Tyler, I promise." Bonnie reassured him.

I stayed where I was by the entrance of the board walk for a moment. Maybe she hadn't turned yet, and I could spot her in the crowed. I listened for the sound of her voice, or the distinct pattern of her heartbeat. But it was no use, she was nowhere to be found.

I looked up, the moon was just starting to brim the sky. It sent shivers down my spine, knowing my best friend was out there right now, feeling one of the most intense pains known to man. I remember when I first turned Damon, for a while he was so mad at me. He thought we were cursed; I grew to think that way too. But the second we found out about werewolves; I knew we weren't the unlucky ones.

They live and die the same way as humans. Yes, they are faster, and stronger, and can heal themselves a little better, but they are still mostly human. They pass it on to their children, who can go their whole live without experiencing the curse. But the second you kill, its all over. You can never go back to the way you were before, because killing changes you. I know it changed me.

Tyler was lucky Klaus picked him to be one of his hybrids. He only had to experience the horror of turning against your will a few times. He's the whole reason his sisters curse got triggered in the first place. She killed someone trying to protect him. He couldn't even convince Klaus to turn her, but I suppose I failed in that field too. I neglected her when my humanity was off, and I'll never forgive myself for that.

I cringed as I thought of her bones breaking over and over again. Tyler explained to Caroline once that the heat was the worst part. Your body feels so hot, it's almost like you're burning alive. We should have been more careful planning this vacation. She wouldn't never forgive herself if she ended up hurting someone here. That's always been my Favorite thing about her. Despite her fierce attitude, she could never bring herself to hurt someone who didn't deserve it. Of course, she's gotten into fight defending Jeremy and Caroline, and even her own Brother. But they weren't the ones who had to calm her down after, assure her that it was worth it, and that she helped.

They're very distinct smell of weed hit my nose. We were in California after all, so it wasn't an odd scent to be smelling. But it was accompanied by the smell of hair spray and motor oil. It's what Y/N smelled like that first day she went off on her own, and she came back wearing that oversized leather jacket. She'd just said a kind stranger gifted it to her because she was cold. She was never a good liar, which was another thing I adored about her. She was so blushy and flustered when she came back that night, so I figured I wouldn't tease her about whatever she had gotten herself into. I was her best friend, shed tell me eventually. But if she told Caroline, everybody would know.

The scent got steadily stronger, as if it was coming right toward me. I turned around to see a man with long blonde, curly hair. He wore a patched jacket and some leather jeans. He looked frantic, like he'd just been running. His eyes locked with mine quickly, and I could see his pupils dilate. I was exactly what he was looking for. I furrowed my bro. Before I could ask what, he wanted, I was dragged into an ally somewhere.

"Who are you?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No time, she needs your help!"

"Who needs my help."

He had begun to pace back and forth nervously. He chewed on the edge of his thumb, hard enough to draw blood. But he didn't seem phased in the slightest. He seemed to have zoned out, the weed probably getting to his brain.

"Hello?"

"You have her same necklace." He pointed to the locket I wore around.

Similar to my day light ring, I never took it off. Now of course I couldn't take my ring off or I would literally burn in the sun, but if I ever lost this, Y/N would actually kill me. I'd only ever lost it once during an argument with Damon, and she was devastated. But the second she figure out who took it, she was livid. I had to stop her from trying to roll Damon up in our living room rug and setting it on fire. She instead settled for hiding behind the bar and using a squirt gun to pray him with vervain water. In hindsight, it was really funny. That was the moment I truly knew she was my person, and I never wanted to live my life without her again. She insanely brave and gallantly stupid and loved with everything she had.

"She said we need her brother." The guy finsihed.

"Slow down." I placed my hands on his Sholders, stopping his pacing.

I half expected him to pull back, or even try to hit me, but he just looked up at me like a lost puppy.

"What is your name?"

"Marko." "Ok Marko, where is she?"

"The cave."

I frowned.

"The cave?"

"Yeah, where we live. We were hanging out and then she got really sick all of a sudden. The others sent me to find someone because I'm the best tracker. I found you, didn't I?"

I couldn't tell he hadn't been a vampire nearly as long as I had. I knew there were different types of vampires int eh world., the witches never made anything simple. He wore a lot of Jewlery, but none of it was Lapis Lazuli, meaning he couldn't go int he sunlight. So that's why Y/N only split from the group in the evenings, we just thought her social battery was running short. I mean spending a whole day with Caroline can do that to a person. Of course, she managed to find the vampires in this town. I took a deep breathe, and the young vampire copied me.

"Yes, and I'm glad you did. What did she tell you?" I asked.

"No time, we have to find her brother."

I nodded, pulling out my phone and sending a message int eh group chat.

"He's on his way over here right now, now can you tell me a bit more?"

"She told us she was a werewolf, but that it was nothing to worry about. Max always told us werewolves were dangerous, so David thought maybe she was trying to hurt us."

"She wouldn't do that." "I know!" he exclaimed. "And that's what I told David. He always tells us to trust our gut, and then he never listens. But anyway, we were hanging out at the edge of the cave, looking out on the town, when she suddenly doubled over in pain. We tried to ask what was wrong, but she was in too much pain. I started panicking and I didn't know what to do. So, they made me leave. I know I had to find you, but I feel bad for leaving her like that."

He seemed to really care about her, so I decided to trust him. it wasn't uncommon for other vampires to set a trap for us to try to get us killed for one reason or another. But this didn't feel like that. He was being sincere.

"You left so you could help her Marko, ok? You did a good job." I assured him. "But when we get there, you and your friend are going to have to leave-" "What no! I'm not leaving her again!"

"She can seriously hurt you."

"But she wouldn't."

"Look Marko, wolves aren't exactly themselves in their wolf form. The first time her brother turned, he almost killed his girlfriend. And he managed to kill someone in our friend group. And it wasn't pretty. Werewolves were designed the sole purpose of killing our kind. Thier blood lust takes over and they will attack without a second thought. And when you get bit, it is a slow and painful death, it could take several days. So, do you really want to risk that?"

His eyes widened, before narrowing at me.

"I don't believe you."

I scoffed.

"Trust me, if she finds out one of you got hurt because of her, she will be besides herself. It's obvious you care about her, which means she cares about you too. I just don't want to see anyone get hurt-"

My sentence was cut off by the others running up to find us.

"Where is she?" Tyler demanded.

Marko's eyes scanned over the group, like he was searching for a threat. Everyone looked a little on edge, being in the presence of a new Vampire. Damon glared at Marko, sizing him up.

"She's up at the cave, we don't have much time."

"Why don't you guys go back to the hotel, Tyler and I will bring her back." "No way!" Caroline protested.

"I agree with Care." Jermey chimed in.

"Guys, we don't have time for this right now. I appreciate you want to help, but the less people in her path, the less people to get hurt."

"She won't attack a human Sef, you know that. And I can try to contain her with my magic." Bonnie said.

"Fine, Bonnie, you can come, but everyone else go back to the hotel." "Don't have to ask me twice." Damon said.

Matt looked up at me despratly.

"Keep your phones on, we'll update the second she's safe."

"How do we get there?" Bonnie asked.

"Hold on tight." Marko said.

He scooped up Tyler into his arms and flew off. That was something I wasn't aware some vampires could do. I starred for a second before remembering how urgent this was. I carefully picked up Bonnie and sped off after his scent. I gently set her down when we approached out destination. I knew it wasn't pleasant traveling by vampire, so I gently rubbed her back to make sure she wouldn't throw up. Tyler was grubbing about Marko getting his hands off of him.

We could hear her screams, which meant she was still mostly human right now. It broke my heart to hear how violent they were. I heard from Caroline that it was awful the first time she'd watched Tyler turn. But the rest of us had never really witnessed it. Y/N was a private person, and we respected that. We rushed in to where she was, laying oner her side, surrounded by three other boys.

The Burnette was calming stroking her hair, trying to sooth her. I was surprised she was letting anyone touch her right now. Once I'd trying to help her through her sever period cramps, and she almost bit my hand off for touching her. And that was before her werewolf gene was triggered. Bonnie scrunched up her face turning into my chest. She hated seeing Y/N like this. The other two boys were standing at her side, the platinum blonde trying to calm the other. The platinum blonde met Marko's eyes and then mine.

"Fix her!" he said harshley.

I was a little taken aback, but it was understandable. They weren't used to werewolves. Vampire were pretty lucky if they could go their wolves' lives without encountering one. She cracked her eyes open at the sound of David's words. She struggled to turn and look at us.

"Stefan?" She said softly.

If we weren't vampire, none of us would have heard it. Then her eyes moved to her brother.

"Ty?"

He quickly knelt down besides her.

"Hey, I'm right here ok. I'm not going anywhere." "Ty, it hurts. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't-" A scream tore through her throat as she threw her head back on the hard floor. They would certainly leave a bruise in the morning.

"I know, I know it hurts ok. But Klaus isn't even in the state right now, there not much I can do. I promise I'll convince him to turn you the second we get home."

"Tyler please-"

My heart ached in that moment, I wasn't used to seeing her so small and timid. Of course, she's cried in front of me before, but this was different, she was raw, vulnerable.

"Help her man!" the blonde with the crazy hair exclaimed.

"We need to get her tied up." Tyler said.

"What? You're not tying her up!" The other blonde commanded.

"It's for everyone's safety. She can't hurt anyone if she's tied up."

I watched as her eyes drifted to the brunette, she nodded her head ever so slightly, reassuring him.

"David, why don't you go with Stefan here and get some ropes. Paul, she's going to need snacks when she's back to normal. So why don't you go get her some comfort things, yeah?"

"But-" "Paulie, she's not going anywhere ok. We're not leaving her. But your job is super important, so you think we can trust you to not get distracted?"

He gave an eager nod.

I nodded my head toward the entrance of the cave, and the other vampire begrudged followed.

Y/N POV:

Everything was burning. Each drop of sweat that fell from my forehead felt like boiling water on my skin. I felt a cool hand press to my forehead, I didn't even realize I closed my eyes. I opened them to see Dwayne's starring down at mine. Even now he looked so beautiful, I could have sworn I was dead. It felt like I was dying at least. I've only had a handful of full moons, you'd expect to get used to the pain, but it seemed to only get worse.

I seethed out a hiss, clenching my jaw. I heard a small jangle for a second, then Dwayne was speaking.

"Here, bite down on this, I'm afraid you might break your teeth."

He brushed a hair out of my eye before placing the belt in my mouth.

"I'm sorry I'm gross right now, you guys weren't meant to see this. I can't- I can't believe I forgot about the full moon. I'm so stupid-"

He cut me off with a kiss, pulling me into him. I must admit, it was a great distraction. But now my body was burning up even more. I growled a little when he pulled away.

"Easy tiger, you're going to make it through this ok. Nobodies leaving you tonight."

"But what if I-" "You won't hurt us; we're not going to let that happen. You're safe her, and there's nowhere else in the world I'd want to be right now."

I couldn't feel tears brimming in my eyes. But the moment was short lived as another surge of pain came. My head was spinning, still slightly dizzy from the kiss. Dwayne pulled me into his strong arms, rocking me back and forth. Marko was keeping his distance, watching from the corner. It's like he was sacred to approach, I guess I couldn't blame him.

They both glanced up when footsteps returned. I heard the distinct jingle of chains. Stefan was the first to speak, David instead preferring to light a cigarette. Stefan threw something to Dwayne, which he caught with ease.

"Wolfs bane, Bonnie apparently always carries this and vervain on her." Stefan answered my question before i had time to speak.

I don't even think I could speak if I tried. My thoughts were all jumbled. Being this close to so many vampires wasn't fucking helping.

"What does it do?" Marko asked.

As Stefan was trying to explain, I snatched the laced water bottle from Dywayne, scotting far away to the other end of the cave. I ripped off the top and downed it. The pain as unimaginable Seering every atom in my body. Why did turning have to take so long when you were a baby wolf?

"What the hell was that?" David asked as I began coughing up some of the solution.

"It's necessary, don't' think I take any joy in seeing her like this."

I suddenly realized my brother was no longer with us. But as if reader my thoughts, Stefan answered my question.

"He's calling Hayley, trying to get to Klaus and beg him to help."

David took a step closer, and I backed up.

"No." My voice barely came out in a whisper. "Stefan."

My best friend was by my side in a matter of seconds.

"You ready?"

I nodded. I hated being tied up; it was humiliating. It made me feel like a literal dog, I mean of course I'm a wolf, but most people don't collar wild animals. It was incredibly dehumanizing. Stupid father and your dumb curse, hope you and uncle mason are rotting in pieces. Stefan was gentle tying me up, and I tried my best not to fight it, as my instincts took over. He was quick to jump back when he was done.

Marko gave me a pitiful look.

"We should get out of here, even with her tied up it's still not safe. She's managed to get out before." Stefan explained.

"We can't" David said firmly.

"I know you guys' care, and I appreciate it-" "No, we actually can't. She won't be back to normal until the sun comes up. But if we go out there, we'll burn to death."

"Right, I forgot about that. Y/N do you trust them?"

"What?" David asked with a scoff.

Stefan just repeated his question, paying no mind to the annoyed vampire.

"With- with my life."

I knew they heard it, no matter how small my voice came out. Stefan nodded, bending down and giving me a kiss on the forehead.

"Get them out." I whimpered in his ear.

He turned his attention to David.

"What if I told you there was a way you could go in the sun?"

"Impossible." David said.

"Yeah, Max would have told us about it, if that was a thing." Marko pipped up.

Dwyne let out a dramatic sigh, looking at me one more time as I curled in on myself.

"I'm choosing to trust you. Don't fuck us over." Dwayne said to Stefan, locking eyes with him.

AN: Ok I promise I'll make a part 4 eventually. But I hope you guys enjoy part three. It was so much fun to write. It warms my heart that so many of you like my writing. Love yall <3