#SHE BUSTED HIS WEAPON!! BY HERSELF!!!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

The other day I was reading about the “mail-order brides” during the Gold Fever/Gold Rush in USA. Men ordered/purchased a wife via mail, and one of the many reasons some of them did that was because of loneliness, and I couldn’t help but think “yep, that would be König”. Just imagine him living alone in his farm or ranch, he only goes to town once a month to buy essential supplies, hides his face, and barely socializes with folks. But deep inside he is just a lonely man who desires a family, and a woman to call his (and one who can help him with his… needs) But he is socially inept, so he takes the easy route and orders himself a wife, that way he doesn’t have to bother with interacting with other people and gets himself a pretty wife

Oh my god 💞

König wanting to wed and bed her the minute she arrives by train... She thought he would court her for a while before they marry, she thought they would do this decently, that they would get to know each other first, she’d rent an apartment from the small town and then decide if she wanted to live with him…

But he says everything’s settled, he already took care of everything, they’re getting married today and spend their wedding night in the saloon before leaving for his settlement tomorrow.

She’s too bewildered to even speak, so it's no wonder she gets herded to the altar right away, a pretty, meek little bride is just what König ordered! Gets wed to this giant hulking gold digger while still wearing her traveling clothes, the priest only looks drunk and bored as she peeps her vows. The man she's now wed to looks down at her with unbridled affection and curiosity, but soon enough, she catches him eyeing her waistline, her bust, the corset she wears feeling tighter still by his indecent stare.

He's far from a gentleman, and dresses like a weather-worn cowboy, and she suspected as much from the way he wrote and how unpolished his handwriting was. But at least he seems kind. If anything, he's smitten that she’s not some old hag who deceived him by claiming to be an unmarried young lady, that she is everything and more he wished for based on the few letters they exchanged.

The wedding is over in a few minutes, and there’s no coffee and cake, no party under some big tree, no relatives or friends to congratulate her on her wedding day. There’s only this huge, intimidating man who looks at her like she just dropped down from heavens, his eyes slowly sparking aflame with both softness and lust.

He takes her to the saloon to eat, and then she finds herself in a greasy little room upstairs, changing into her white nightgown, getting ready to sleep and only sleep, but her nightmare of a day is not over yet. Her hand flies over her mouth, she nearly screams as she turns around and finds this horrible man of lowly European descent thoroughly naked behind her.

She’s in so much trouble, that much was certain from the minute he saw this man, but seeing his… equipment in the dim candle light of the old saloon is too much after everything she's gone through. She's verily about to faint.

It’s just her luck to dream of adventures and a happy, exciting new life and then find herself thrown into the arms of some barbaric, foreign giant... He said he’s looking for a companion in life and hinted at being a little lonely, but men who wish to court a lady don’t do it like this: by dragging them to the altar and then presenting their cocks to them before even two hours have passed!

The rowdy noise of cancan downstairs is a filthy backdrop to seeing a naked man for the first time in her life, and she never knew male parts could be so... big. Or jumpy. Or leaky... This man is clearly serious about this commitment, and thinks there’s no need to get to know each other, she’s his wife now and they need to consummate the marriage right away.

He’s breathing heavily while grabbing that weeping weapon in his fist, telling her she’s more beautiful than he ever even imagined. He pleasures himself slowly while watching her try to cover herself in her thin, faintly translucent gown, and she still can't find any words – the man is behaving like a scoundrel or a highwayman, not at all like the sharp dressed, eloquent gentlemen she's grown used to in the city. The slick sounds of lewd fapping are accompanied by moans of how she’s the answer to all his prayers, and her hair stands on end, she feels like she’s walking on tar here in the distant frontier with nothing but greedy men and drunken brothel keepers around her, now face to face with a giant, throbbing cock out of all things...

She coldly orders him to sleep on the floor while she takes the bed – she’s not letting this nasty, hairy beast near her anytime soon, not when she still has her wits about her. Defeated when she won’t let him “consummate their love” tonight, the man withdraws to sleep on the floor with a sullen groan and a long sigh.

She never sleeps a wink that night in fear of finding him by her side, groping his way through her dress, but to her surprise this man only snores on the floor as if he's used to sleeping there.

Civilization is far away when he leads her to his shack the next day and shows her the first small specks of gold he has found, apologizing for the state of his abode so unkempt and unclean. She has to give it to him that he's indeed kind and doesn’t want to make her suffer unduly, because the table and the bench are wiped in a hurry before she sits down, as if she’s a queen visiting a humble subject. He makes her a bath next to the fire and washes in the water after her, giving her flirty, promising smiles throughout the whole splashy ordeal.

Before long, the giant cock is presented to her again as the man excitedly waits for permission to take her, telling her he has never seen anything like her, that she makes his heart run wild.

The only thing running wild in her sour opinion is his cock, bouncing up and down from the need to be inside her, nearly leaking seed on the floor she suspects she has to wash and scrub tomorrow anyhow as his wife. Evening after evening, she rejects his advances, but after a week or two, her will breaks.

She tells herself it’s only out of pity that she lets him finally crawl over her and lift her gown, that it’s only to stop the man from spiraling into madness that she allows him to test how nicely that thick, leaky cock glides through her folds.

“You’re wet, Sonnenschein,” he pants with happy excitement when she notices her swollen, sloppy state, then plunges his cock deep into his wet little prize with a filthy moan. He tells her she’s tight and hot, and takes her like she’s some kind of an angelic whore, falls panting all over her breasts when he’s sated and done, says that she’s his salvation and that he’ll do anything to make her feel at home here.

She feels exactly like a desperate mail order bride, lured here with the promise of a good life and gold, but when she starts to wait for him to come home instead of dreading the end of the day, that's when her hell truly begins.

It just won't do to start wanting him, to trick her heart to be content with whatever this is. To enjoy his "love" would be even more shameful than anything else so far. The truth of the matter is that she's tormented by a lustful, wild man who takes her on her knees or on her stomach like an animal while moaning about how tight she is, how soft she is, how he can’t concentrate at work because of her.

But when he groans that he loves her just before he cums, she feels a distant sting near her heart, a burst of a small bonfire somewhere in her gut from his words. Far from romantic, but so authentic and pure they’re ripped out of him with a pathetic, cry-like moan.

And just when her heart is about to turn and grow full with softness, he barges in and takes her standing, needy after work, deciding that she looks far too alluring while stirring the stew over the fire. His sunshine of a wife waiting for him with warm food and a soft little cunt, it's exactly like it was always meant to be in his dreams... He’s kind and attentive, but doesn’t know a thing about ladies and that they’re not supposed to be taken by the fire like this, but the dramatic pout on her lips turns into a helpless grimace before this animal has given her three full thrusts.

And it’s only by accident, she tells herself, that it happens. It’s only a coincidence that she finds herself short of breath and shivering, then crying with pleasure from the way his cock sails inside her, hasty and needy as if she’s nothing but a momentary relief for this man.

But she knows she’s far from that. He always stays after the hurried lovemaking – if you could call it that – swallows and tells her things that are supposed to be sweet, perhaps. He whispers loving nonsense in her ear with a stupid, quivering voice, tells her that she’s so tight he’s about to lose his mind. That she brightens up his life and makes this shack a home, a palace, even. That he wants to give her children and grow old together.

She prays the heavens to save her from such a future, but when she accidentally comes with his cock inside her, the man breaks down entirely. Repeats the awful, pathetic “I love you” until he comes, too, and sounds like a man who's getting his sould ripped apart from his bones. It’s sinful lunacy what he’s doing to her in that shack, and dares to sprinkle it with love out of all things, and she doesn’t know if she hates him, or if she loves him too.

Annulling this marriage is nearly impossible, and the sooner he gets her pregnant, the sooner she’s even more trapped, just like the poor rabbits this man lures into the snares placed around the shack. He spends every little speck of gold to buy her silks, satins and gowns, proper woolen scarves and soft little leather shoes, gives her a gentle kiss every morning before he leaves to wash gold. Every evening after meal, he praises her cooking skills and then takes her on the creaking old bed like she's a common whore. The silly, girlish dreams of being whisked away by a mysterious, romantic gentleman are somewhere far away when this giant spills his seed inside her with a thick, arduous groan, then proceeds to cover her in kisses too sweaty and hot.

“I know you don’t love me,” he whispers between the one-sided sucking and nibbling that’s about to make her cry. “But I will make you happy... I swear it, on my life.”

She can only stare at the ceiling, filled with the dancing flames of the fire as he falls asleep with his cock still inside her, the soft snore on her breasts both happy and sad.

[salty-an-disco]

you know…… there's an argument to be made to getting Contrarian in Nightmare instead of Paranoid. Like– you go for a third option neither the narrator or princess want, but you double down on anyway. In the original Nightmare, that was because you couldn't trust neither princess or narrator, but what if you started doubling down specifically because neither of them agreed with you?

That was how I fell into the swap au trap, with something I'm calling 'A Shift in Perspective' (or 'SiP AU' for short), where the swaps are all decided by whether or not I can find a good argument to why you should get a different voice in the game's routes. Here's the conclusions I reached:

Nightmare – Contrarian: like I already said in the example above, neither princess nor Narrator liked your idea and so you decided to double down on it to the detriment of everyone involved. Princess still feels abandoned by you, but she's also angry to how flippantly you taking this ("You think this is game? OK, then, why don't we play.").

I want to lean more into Nightmare's playfulness here, with some jigsaw and carnival themes. The way to the basement is a jolly ride that take you down to her lair with cheery-creepy music as you pass through exaggerated smiling and crying faces. Contrarian is still trying to make light of the situation, though there's a noticeable undercurrent of fear in his tone. Nightmare doesn't shut down your organs here.

Spectre – Opportunist: You did the job exactly as asked specifically to get that reward, but it turned out it was a bust, so you kill yourself and come back to the cabin in hopes the princess has a better option for you. In this read of the route, you take more of a 'hitman' role, being more focused on what you can get out of this situation as opposed to the act of killing the princess. Spectre doesn't change much, though her cabin has a more sterile feeling to it as opposed to old and abandoned. She won't be happy to learn you killed her just to get a reward, but is willing to hear you out. Now you just gotta negotiate your way out of this situation and make sure not to accidentally get yourself killed by saying the wrong thing!! (don't have many clear visuals for this one, more just a Vibe)

Prisoner – Cold: You completely ignored all of Narrator's warnings and advice. It didn't sound right to you, anyway, so you went straight for the princess, and it immediately became clear who you were more willing to hear out. When she kills you, you accept it without complaint; it's only fair, there was no other way for her to defend herself. If Cold is a steel-weapon in the canon game, here, he is a shield; willing to take on any hit if it means getting his way, and making sure the princess stays alive. In the basement (a stone cold prison with clear, (and very breakable), chains around the princess' wrists and neck). Prisoner smiles when you appear, like she's in on a joke, but doesn't say much. Cold still won't urge you in any particular direction; suggesting you can explore, examine the place, talk to the princess all you want– but in the end, you still have to make a choice. And it's a easy, no?

Wanna lean into the fact Cold is prolly the closest voice to Quiet's true nature here, and the fact that despite lookin' the most human, Prisoner is still the one you can get free by simply letting change happen around her; neither of you may know why, but you two intrinsically trust each other

Damsel – Stubborn: You very insistently didn't get the knife, didn't abide by Narrator's advice to not talk to the princess, resisted when he tried to force your hand, and made sure she would be the one to kill you. (Imagine Narrator saying, "A stubborn bastard, aren't you?" right before you die). There's no doubt now. Narrator is a villain who, for some reason, wants to make sure the princess dies. You won't let that happen.

This is the one where we focus more on the 'distress' part of Damsel in Distress. There'll be lots of traps and trials trying to attack her once you save the princess from the chains, and it's your job to make sure she gets out of there unscathed. Something of a scourt mission. Stubborn's fighting instincts here are directed to the threats around the princess instead of her; much like Cold, he's more of a shield than a weapon in this version.

Beast – Broken: You got absolutely wrecked by the princess like you were no more than a mouse against a lion. What hope can you have to survive in this situation? It's simply nature; you should just lay down and let it take its course. The basement here is much more open, and with an arid feel to it; more of a savana than a jungle. The princess lies in plain view, a mighty Beast that you cannot hope to face against. You have to fight against your own Broken spirit as well as this apex predator to hope you can have any chance of survival.

Witch – Paranoid: The moment you saw the princess chew her own arm, you knew you made the wrong choice. She's clearly not someone that should be trusted, attacking was the only option you had!! The Princess attacks back in surprise, immediately hardening her stance once she realizes what you did. The two of you die, and the way she clawed and bit at you only cements in your head that she's a tricky monster who cannot be trusted.

There is more than one entrance to the basement this time, and no matter which one you take, you'll end up in a labyrinth of roots and vines full of tricks and traps the princess laid out for you. You never see her clearly, but her cackling laughter follows you all the way. Paranoid will warn you of any trap before you can fall for them, and listening to her is the best way to avoid getting caught; though some of the things she perceives as a trap might not actually be there– the roots almost seem to move imperceptibly, and you're sure there eyes following you. Are they really there, or are they imagined? You'll find Witch right at the center of the maze, where you can either fight her or try to talk things out. Though none of these choices will really help you escape. You're already trapped.

Wanna lean into the cyclical feel of both Witch and Nightmare here, with your distrust/fear is what keeps cementing this cycle of violence you're both stuck on.

Tower – Smitten: (women that can kill you by stepping on your throat are kinda ho– [gets shot]) Right before you die, you see the situation for what it is. You never should've wielded that knife against her, she's a light that can't be snuffed out, don't you see? With that understanding is that you die. There are bells echoing in the distance when you enter the cabin, a beautiful place with ornamented windows and mobilia; really leaning into that church symbolism here. Tower is sitting as she waits for you with a soft smile on her face. Her voice is honey, and what she offers you is benevelonce and a place at her side, all you have to do is pledge yourself to her.

Instead of an imposing and impossible figure, Tower is more of the 'benevelont god' figure here. Still very much wants you to be under her control, but won't rush or press that offer upon you (she knows you'll accept it one way or the other anyway). Smitten is the only one forcing control of your body here, wanting to rush to her and kneel at her feet; you can fight him, or you can let him steal all the choices from you.

Adversary – Hunted: You tried to go for a killing blow, but you gave her too much time to prepare herself and now you're also at the receiving ending of her blows. Well, kill or be killed; you're both just animals trying to survive. The cave you find yourself in once inside the cabin has more of a humid air to it, and at the bottom, you find the Princess; Adversary has more of a scaled lizard aesthetic to her, and is eager to fight for her life again with you.

Hunted isn't as excited about fighting as Stubborn is in canon, but is very much willing to prove you can overcome this obstacle. Doesn't matter how many tries it takes.

Stranger – Cheated: "What the fuck do you mean the universe itself will warp into itself to keep you from leaving?!? That's absolutely bullshit!!"

That's all the argument I have for this one. Stranger themselves doesn't change much, the main difference is Cheated's reaction and how he goes about treating a world where you're choices doesn't seem to matter anyway.

Razor – Skeptic: There must be a reason you couldn't kill her before, and if you find the answer, you can make sure you kill her for good. You see this mission as a puzzlebox that needs to be solved if you want to slay the princess. The cabin is basically a escape room from the moment you step in, and will not let you progress unless you solve it. Each wrong answer slices you in half and gets you a new voice. New perspectives to see this rubix cube from!!

At this point, you overcomplicated this whole thing so much, it's all just a tangle of webs and knots with no rhyme or reason, with you and the princess (who's at this point, just a mess of wires and steel) stuck right in the middle. The only way to escape is shutting down all your thoughts and cutting through the knots with her.

+ some doodles I did for this concept

[liennka]

Mizumono

Hannibal Lecter x Will's daughter X Will Graham

Summary: Will was supposed to help Jack with killing Hannibal, but he arrived too late and with him, his daughter, Y/n.... (s2e13)

-> This one is filled with angst, but i realised that's just what i am good at :) I am open to any criticism (be nice pls).

I just wanted to say that I am not the owner of this show, but I did make this story, so don't copy it without my knowledge, thank you.

When Alana called about the warrant, Will didn't panic. He told Y/n to go downstairs, urging her to turn off the lights and grab a jacket. And as the police headlights came through the windows, they ducked and crawled on all fours to the back door, Will grabbing his gun. Outside, hidden in the darkness, they ran across their property, stopping on a road. The rain soaked their clothes, though at least the ground wasn't muddy, otherwise they'd be easy to track. A taxi pulled up and Will gave him an address. 

"Hannibal Lecter's house? Why are we going from one danger to another?" Y/n asked, much rather preferring a McDonald's or a cinema. 

"Because Jack will be there, and right now nowhere is safe," her father whispered, looking out the window, "and maybe it's the only address I know."

"That's probably it. What are we going to do then? Have a cup of tea with him and chat with Hannibal?" she sarcastically teased. 

"I gave him time to leave, nothing should happen".

Y/N wasn't so sure.

----●----●----●----

When they got off, her father couldn't have been more wrong. Alana laid there, glass broken, rain rinsing blood from her hair. She seemed dead, just the twitching from shock making her shoulders move up and down. 

"Alana!" Will rushed to her and wrapped her in his coat.

Y/n made note of her surroundings. The front door opened, all sorts of wet footsteps on the carpet, the second floor window busted. And a bloody burgundy dahlia looking at her from a pot near the entrance. 

"Betrayal," she hummed, crouching down beside Alana.

Will looked at her as if she was crazy. He had just called the ambulance and left Alana his phone. 

"The flowers," Y/n pointed out, "I guess he's inside.” 

"Jack's there too," Alana choked out.

Y/N was surprised, she thought Alana's rib cage was too damaged to speak, but Alana proved her wrong. Will nodded and stood up, his gun in both hands. Y/n stayed a little longer, not caring that her hair was now sticking to her ears and causing her to feel cold.

----●----●----●----

As she opened the door to the kitchen, the smell of blood hit her. There were knives, plates and glass everywhere, two pairs of shoes standing in the midst of it all. As she looked up, Hannibal's silhouette greeted her.  

"You were supposed to leave!" Will was standing in front of him.

"I couldn't leave without you two," Hannibal said affectionately. 

Y/n did not know who 'you two' meant, but had a hunch that it included her. Strangely, Hannibal didn't even spare her a look, placing his palm on Will's cheek as if to caress it. They both had such an intense gaze, the sexual tension almost making Y/n turn around to give them some privacy. The scenery looked like a theater piece, a tragedy at that. They dove into their world, where she didn't exist and where they spoke in a different language, or maybe she just lost her hearing from how loud her heart was beating.  Either way, Y/n wanted to separate them, to drag her dad back to their house, back to their dogs. 

She did not see the knife coming from her point of view. Her father simply yelped and took a step forward, crashing into Hannibal's arms. This wasn't real, no. Hannibal would never hurt Will, he was like the other half of his soul, she lied to herself. But there was a red stain on his shirt and when Hannibal embraced him, the weapon remained in his hand, as if to mock them. Y/n stood motionless, no sound could break through her frozen vocal chords. She never thought this would happen, her chest tightening and her eyes filling with tears of pure terror.

The impact of Will's body aligned with her first fallen tear. His body fell directly into a pool of Jack's blood, his pants soaking it up. A few droplets of their mixed blood landed on her shoe, ruining her white trainers. Y/n swallowed nauseously, not daring to look into her fathers eyes. 

Hannibal leaned forward, his crescent-shaped blade back on the counter. 

"I have let you know me, see me," Hannibal paused as Will struggled to breathe, "I gave you a rare gift, but you didn't want it.”

"Didn't I?" Will insisted heartbroken, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. He seemed distressed, but more than anything, he was furious. 

Y/n shut herself off, not wanting to remember her father so frail, choosing to merely listen. And when she heard Hannibal mention the shattered teacup again, something in her snapped. She opened her pocket knife behind her back, using it for the first time since she bought it after the encounter with Tobias. Her fight-or-flight instinct flipped a coin and settled on fight. In a blink of an eye, she was standing behind Hannibal, her knife placed just under his jaw.

Y/n had no idea what she was doing. Her mind told her to end it, to be free at last. But her heart knew that was not possible, not in this life. She couldn't stop shaking, so she applied more force, making him bleed a little.  Will sucked in his breath, not quite understanding what was going on as this was out of character for her. 

"We are not a shattered teacup. You can't glue us back together and pretend like nothing happened," Y/n croaked in his ear, her voice high-pitched.

The blade suddenly twitched as a chuckle erupted from Hannibal’s chest.

"No, you certainly are not just a piece of pottery, but you are indeed fragile."

“You should have left when Will told you to. Instead you slaughtered them all, rightfully or not, whether you believe in God or not. There is no excuse for that,” Y/n hissed, her disappointment in him turning her words bitter. 

"I should have seen it coming…you made us so blind," her disappointment in herself turning her words sour.

Alana's happy face when she gave her a handmade sweater, or Jack and Bella's Christmas party, it was all over. Her bright future turned dim.

"I just wanted us to be a family. Why," she sobbed, a big droplet falling on the floor, "why can't I have a genuine family for once?"

----●----●----●----

Taking advantage of her state of mind, Hannibal grabbed her hand, pulling the knife away from his throat and spinning her around. He took her face in his palms, making her look at him. Y/n had teardrops on her chin, red spots on her irritated skin, her lips chapped and her eyelashes littered with fresh tears. He wiped them away so she had a clear view of him. However, he was no better, his normally perfectly sleek bangs were now messy, blood on his collar and some drying under his nose. He was bruised and in pain, yet he still looked like the most charismatic man she had ever seen. A charismatic man that attempted to erase her father's existence. 

"You don't get to start over after what you've just done, that's not fair!” she tried to wriggle out of his grip, “You hurt Will and you broke my trust. What do you expect us to do?" 

"Nothing, such is life. Don't fight it, let it all go."

Y/n raised her eyebrows in disbelief, a single tear running down her cheek. By now she could care less about having a weapon on her side, she felt she had already lost. 

"'And what if I don't want to let it go, to forget or forgive?" 

"Then you lose yourself," Hannibal directed his gaze back to Will, "I forgive Will. Will he forgive me?"

"'Don't. No, no, no!" Will uttered for the first time after his collapse.

It broke his heart, but there was nothing to be done, his design was meant to be finished and everything had to go according to plan. He pried her knife from her slack hold, unbeknown to her. 

"What are you tal-" Y/n's question couldn't be finished as she was silenced.

Her own knife, now in Hannibal's possession, was plunged blade deep into her side, almost identically to her father's. She yelped as she felt her muscles being torn apart, the stinging as Hannibal yanked it out causing her to choke. Her eyes opened wide as if trying to comprehend what was happening. The searing pain in her torso sent her to the ground, but it was the pain in her heart that made her burst out crying again, only this time it would not stop. Hannibal slowly lowered her down beside Will, splattering the tiles with her blood and tears like the rain would.

 She shook, struggling to catch her breath. With one hand she pressed against her wound, with the other she found her father's hand and weakly squeezed it. She felt his cold fingers, the energy draining from his body. 

"Dad," Y/n muffled her cries. 

Will wanted to help her, to hold her and console her, but he'd been bleeding for so long he couldn't even open his mouth. He had no choice but to watch with half-closed eyes as the entire room bathed in red.  

"You can make it all go away. Put your head back, close your eyes," Hannibal reached for Will's shoulder and met his eyes. "Wade into the quiet of the stream".

Y/n blinked at Hannibal for a second, but instead of a man, she saw a red horned monster with black dahlias sprouting from its eye sockets. So this was his true self, she realised.

“We were never meant to work, were we?” she clutched at Hannibal's trousers with her bloodied fingers. 

There was a silence for a while, Will's labored breathing slowing and her own sniffles fading to silent tears. Hannibal knelt down and ruffled her wet hair. 

And as her father closed his eyes, Hannibal asked her: "Will you forgive me?"

Y/n wanted to say no. She wanted to send him into the pond of burgundy ink as well, but her own mind said otherwise. 

"'Maybe, if you promise to make us work."

He smiled and stood up, not looking at her again. As his footsteps faded away, Y/n's warm blood grew chilly and her eyes heavy. With her last strength she kissed her father's knuckles, her last tears streaming down her face.  

----●----●----●----

She shed tears for how pitiful her ending was. And as her vision got blurrier, she bid farewell to her life.

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Jazz found a magical artifact that bound itself to her. Asking Danny and his friends in the GZ made it clear that the artifact wasn't related to ghosts. When she brought it up around Dani, the young girl suggested they ask this friendly(ish) half demon girl that she met while on her travels.

So they left Amity to find Raven.

As soon as they stepped into Jump City, though, they found themselves pulled into some dangerous bs involving being sacrificed to some demon. Everything they had on them was taken by the cultists. Including the artifact.

The artifact started to glow as it got further and further from Jazz until, at 10 feet away, it spun out of the cultist's hands and went straight into Jazz's chest. She'd started freaking out, until she realized she was being surrounded by a very bright light and floating.

By the time she dropped back to the ground, only stumbling slightly, she noticed that she was in a different outfit. It wasn't what she'd normally wear, but it surprisingly suited her. It was a mostly light blue dress with black accents. She also noticed that the rope that was tying her hands together was gone. There was also a really pretty blue and black bat with a bow on its handle in her hands.

"Who are you? Where'd the other girl go?" one of the cultists asked, gaining her attention.

Jazz was confused. She didn't change that much.

Then the jerks started attacking her. She was able to dodge their attacks due to their sloppiness and landed a few herself. They started using broken pipes and chairs as weapons but she'd been trained by two hyper competent scientists in self defense. They weren't going to stand a chance against a Fenton, much less one with their preferred weapon.

After she won the fight, the door was busted down by a black haired kid wearing green, red, yellow, and black leading four other teens. They seemed ready to fight until they noticed Jazz untying her sister and most of the cultists passed out from head trauma related injuries.

Before the 5 teens could ask questions though, Dani asked her where she went. She'd returned to normal after the fight, and didn't know what to make of it.

"What do you mean where did I go? I was right here?" Jazz replied.

"No?" Dani replied confused. "You disappeared and a girl in a blue and white dress appeared."

"That was me," Jazz said, starting to become drained. "The stupid artifact went into my chest and there was a flash of light then I was in that dress."

The group had snuck up on the two girls during their brief conversation. Raven spoke first. "Can I see the artifact?"

Jazz jumped and spun around. "Oh! Sure." and then handed it to Raven.

Raven floated away from the group to let Robin take over asking the two questions. She turned the artifact over in her hands a few times before summoning a book and searching through it until she found the page she was looking for. The description matched.

She rejoined the group and told them what she found out. "It's a rather new artifact as far as artifacts go. It was created as a set of three in the early 1990s. They were meant to find people who were "pure of heart" or had "strong senses of justice" that didn't feel like they were able to help and bind themselves to those people. According to the book, the person that created them wanted to create their own set of "magical girls" and spelled the artifacts to be able to give their hosts a set of powers, outfits, and weapons based on the host's personalities."

It took a few moments for it to sink in, but when it did Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Dani started snickering. Starfire was confused but happy. Robin and Jazz had very similar reactions, responding with a nearly perfectly timed "What?"

Here are some magical girl associated powers, if you were curious.

[playboysaleen]

Kalopisa. (3)

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. 

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see. 

Warnings: Death, Swearing, everything you done seen is the Boyz is what you should expect here.

Word Count: 5.3k (slightly proof read.)

I just want to put out there that there is a age gape between Neuman and the reader. I think in the show she is like 35 and the reader is like 25-28. I dont want to make the gap so damn big but I know all ya'll reading like them older. Yall just like me lmfao. Imma take a break after this one cause ive been writing since 8pm and it's about to be 4 in the morning- Im tired as fuck. Enjoy and thank you for reading.

_______________________________

“Where is the fun in that?” You whispered as your eyes flashed the red that has haunted her dreams since. You wanted to kill her but something about her led you to wanting to see a certain side in action. 

“You’re a fucking monster.” She grumbled, rolling out of bed placing on her heels. You scoffed standing up from the sofa making way to the door. You stopped taking one good look at her as she caught your gaze through her lashes. 

“Takes one to know one mon amour.” she rolled her eyes as you leaned back disappearing from her view. You shuffled down the stairs seeing M.M sending you a look, 

“If you a Supe; I wanna see some Supe action.” 

You nodded, looking around the room waiting for his command when you swiftly moved your head to the side watching the bullet fly by your head into the wall. Your eyes locked onto his, sending him a smirk. 

“What if fast reflexes was not on my resume?” Your eyebrow raised with a questioning look. He shrugged his shoulders replying, 

“Then I would have to deal with a very angry Frenchie.” 

“You would have made my life easier if you actually sent it right between their eyes.” Victoria spoke out walking past you, plopping herself into the chair next to Kimiko. She sent the girl a small smile but Kimiko rolled her eyes tossing you the strawberry covered donut. You send her a nod in which she smiled your way. Victoria huffed, leaning back watching you take a bite out of the treat. 

“Most Supes have fast reflexes, what else do you have?” Butcher asked, cleaning his handgun on the kitchen table. Hughie decided to stay back to ‘keep an eye on you’ but he really missed the days it was you and him at the shop. You reminded him of a younger(out of control) sibling. 

“Ah…super strength, super speed, but not fast like that blue connard (asshole). I remember Nina mentioning other things but I haven’t découvert(discovered) them yet.” Hugie stood up grabbing a folder from his desk plopping it on the table that was in the center for everyone to see. 

“Y/N.” 

“Who is that?” You asked, confusion swarming in your eyes. Wait- No- that can’t be- 

“This is a file I found from one of our old busts. It was associated with the Red Rivers Underground Enhanced Program for children.” Hughie started, he opened the file to find a mugshot-like photo of a younger you. You were probably twelve in it. You remember the scar that was seen starting at the top of your right eyebrow running across the bridge of your nose. One of Nina’s boys slammed a hammer against your face for attempting to ‘escape’ when all you wanted to do was see this ‘blood moon’ everyone was talking about that morning. 

“It says here that subject was admitted for a few days but then taken out of the system due to being too-” 

“Dangerous.” you finished Hughies statement, when you sighed, turning away from everyone's eyes. You remembered that week. It was the week you decided to put a barrel down your throat pulling the trigger. You couldn’t take it anymore. The needles being pricked into your veins, watching the blue liquid course through you. The pain that felt like someone was yanking your spine out but what made it worse, they wanted to test your weaknesses. You were their submissive little mutt for a week with no blood in your system. You thought killing yourself was the most easy way out but you remembered waking up with a headache only to throw up nothing but the bullet that was intended for freedom. 

“I do not have a name. I do not remember being called that.” You spat turning on your heels following the sign that read ‘roof’. The sound of the door slamming shook everyone. Even Butcher. 

“Bloody hell, the kid has no soul. No childhood. What did Nina do?” Butcher spoke, snatching the file from the table reading all of the intel they had. 

“Psychotic reactions. They literally snapped an officer's neck when given a stuffed animal.” He started reading aloud, 

“No interest in children's activities, when asked about parents- the patient…” Butcher let his words die out in his throat but he kept reading, 

“Butcher, what did that motherfucker do?” M.M spoke out, everyone's attention was on Butcher when he sighed closing the file clasping his hands together, 

“A bunch of shit that we need. In all red it said- ‘Neutralization Aim- Homelander. Viable.’ This kid is the key to sending Homelander straight to the Devil's Den.” Butcher smiled once he saw M.M and Frenchie sigh softly. You were almost identical to Homelander except you were somewhat a- 

“How the hell are they going to kill Homelander when they’re literally a vampire.” M.M questioned when Butcher tossed him the file, 

“Little Nina didn't mention the potential shit that bloodsucker has cause she knew her entire organization would be slaughtered. Burned to the ground.” Butcher continued, Victoria sat in her seat soaking in the entire biography on you. You didn’t even notice but you were almost invincible. 

“Let’s not make cauchemar feel like they are in another one of Nina's plans. They are good people once they let you in. Besides,” Frenchie defended you, rising from his position walking to the door, “they want the same thing we want.”  Victoria stood from her seat walking to Frenchie placing her hand on his shoulder. 

“I’ll handle it.” Victoria said as everyone huffed. Frenchie opened his mouth to protest but she leaned over whispering to him. “They don’t want to be pitied. They want to be understood.” Frenchie turned to face her, eyes wide but all he could do was nod. 

You sat on the edge of the ironhouse building watching the sun slowly peek from the horizon. The breeze that danced along your skin sent a sigh out of your mouth, you felt free. Expensive perfume darted into your nose when you heard rustling next to you, burgundy slacks poked into your peripheral when you huffed. 

“They must really be having a laugh sending you up here.” mumbling, you placed the bottle of chocolate milk next to you. You glanced, letting out a bitter chuckle. 

“They must be since I volunteered.” your head turned her way when she shrugged her shoulders looking out to the horizon. 

“Why are you still here? I should have killed you when I had the chance.” You spat. She turned your way sending you a look, 

“But you didn't, so what does that say? I’m not who I was years ago.” She whispered her eyes still boring into yours. You tried to search for any feelings of betrayal in her blood but the way her heart sped up and her breathing changed…she was genuine coating her words. 

“You killed Malina.” 

“And you killed Tony.” 

Damn. 

“It was the underground way.” You defended. 

“But there is no more underground…You did what you were taught. You don’t have to follow those orders anymore.” She mentioned leaning closer to you. Huffing, you ran your fingers through your hair. 

“What do you want from me? I spent almost eight years playing cat and mouse with you and all of a sudden you want to be friends?” You spoke turning to face her. She raised her eyebrows nodding, 

“We both want Homelander dead and we are the only two that can do that.” She said, you noticed the goosebumps rise along the side of her neck when you noticed the weather around you. 

“That does not cancel the fact that Malina died.” You continued to defend the death of your…friend. Victoria leaned back huffing, 

“For fucks sake, Malina worked for Vought.” 

What? What- no. 

“Malina was the one running the organization with Red River. She was the mole.” Victoria finished. Nina mentioned a Mole but after the countless integrations and fingers being cut off the mole was not confessing. Everything made sense…but you knew Malina since you were sixteen. Why would she- 

“I get you loved her but why love someone that was finding ways to terminate you?” Victoria reasoned when all you could do is turn to the horizon, gazing back at the sun now fully visible. 

“I am not sorry about taking Tony's life, but I am sorry about the reunion.” You actually meant it. Apologizing is something you never did only when Nina gave you that motherly look when you did not leave a perfect painting of the bodies from her hitlist. You stood on your feet removing your jacket taking a deep breath. 

“I can hear them fighting downstairs about us.” You spoke, tossing her your jacket. Her eyes widen but you waved your hand, 

“I’ll handle it. Plus, give Zoe a call, I’m sure she misses you.” Her eyes followed your movement as you walked to the door, sending her one last look. She could've sworn you sent her a small smile. Exiting the rooftop down to the boys, a chill ran over Victoria's body as she looked down at the jacket in her hands. She placed on your clothing inhaling your scent that brought a small smile to her face. 

You apologized. 

≈☆≈

You fucking apologized. You did not want to, but you did. It rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. Those brown eyes were as bright as the raging sun and the color of dancing flames sent you into this new feeling that terrified you. You were taught that the feeling of your stomach turning would be felt when you see the money in your hand disappearing little by little. The feeling of your heart racing should be felt when you need to do anything and everything to keep the underground private. If you slipped any kind of intel? Might as well tell your goodbyes cause you won’t make it to see the sunrise. Humming at the thoughts that danced along your mind, you opened the door to see everyone engaging in a very heated argument. 

“Ah, music to my ears.” You sang out, strutting to the open chair next to M.M

“Kimiko’s making the most sense here.” Butcher claimed, crossing his arms as Hughie raised his own in defense, “She isn’t saying anything?” 

“Exactly- Look, it is best if we let the Supes handle this one. Little Vampie-” You lifted your hand up towards Butchers name suggestion, 

“Call me that again and I will rip your tongue out- What are we talking about?” Butcher scoffed at your insult but you heard his heart race. He liked you. M.M turned his head to face you sighing softly, 

“We need to gather more intel on what Vought has on Singer. We have Annie and Victoria on it but we need more eyes since we can’t just waltz in there like some Men in Black motherfuckers.” He explained to which you nodded along gathering the information when Butcher now stood next to Hughie patting his back, 

“And that is where you come in Little Vamp, you will be Victoria’s new assistant!” He said, Hughie displayed a look of surprise when you chuckled flashing a fanged smile, 

“You can not be serious?” You looked at every face in the room and they were indeed serious. “Tu es.” (you are) you grumbled out running your hand down your face. Victoria was sat at Hughies desk sending the man a look, 

“Their records are clean, you can’t say the FBSA will recognize them since all you have listed is ‘Red Eyes.’ but no visual or actual proof of who they are.” Hughie defended when you smirked at how she never really had anything on and against you. You were a free birdie- well this ‘Y/n’ could be your twin but it’s an easy dismissal with the matured eye color change and a nice wavy short wolf cut- you do not look like this…Y/n. 

“Well that settles it!” Butcher interrupted Hughies' attempt to redeem his stuttering fit as he took a look at his watch pointing your way. 

“Dear Neuman and Starlight need to be at Vought Tower by Nine, it is six. Hughie will take you to his place and get you a nice little office mutt look going,” You looked down at your clothes. You didn’t need to change- 

“I look fine.” You said, Frenchie snorted nodding, 

“You look fine Cauchemar, for a remake of the crow.” Frenchie joked when Victoria snorted, you huffed, shaking your head in defeat. 

“I hope your inseam isn’t so tight,” You grumbled out standing up walking to the door, Hughie scoffed following behind you. 

“I in fact have a big dick-” He argued out closing the door behind him, Kimiko snorted covering her mouth. Frenchie laughed softly shaking his head, 

“I hope Hughie gets a picture of mon cauchemar.” 

+

“If I hear another sound of that phone I am going to shove it up your ass.” You snapped at Hughie who released a breathless laugh as he stood in front of you fixing your tie. 

“You look like serious shit V.” He smiled but you frowned at his name for you. 

“V?” Your asked, he shrugged his shoulders adjusting your collar, 

“I mean yeah…I know you’re like a vampire but I am not going to look like a dumbass calling you that so I went with V.” He spoke going over your outfit one last time giving you a nod of approval. He stepped to the side letting you take in your reflection. 

“Oh the boys are gonna love this.” He said typing away on his phone. You stared at yourself taking in everything. A simple suit but it made you feel some type of way, you looked like you were…someone. The collar to your black button up hid the necklace you wore no matter what you placed on. The black fitted blazer was slightly tight due to you being a bit more built than Hughie but you weren’t complaining due to how it could shield your sleeves of scars that could maybe expose what was left of the underground. The slacks? You weren’t complaining, Hughie was maybe an inch or two taller but the struggle was- 

“You cannot wear your boots into the Vought tower. They’ll automatically flag you.” Hughie said, grabbing a pair of his dress shoes to which a look of disgust flashed across your face. Hughie caught it sighing, 

“Come on V, it’s just for today and maybe tomorrow.” Tomorrow????

“Do not tell me I have to wear another suit-” You started walking out his bedroom into the living room. Annie walked in through the front door, stopping in her tracks taking in your attire. 

“Huh…so you can clean up nice.” Annie hummed out as Hughie walked up to her, giving her a chaste kiss. Rolling your eyes, you snatched the black dress shoes from Hughies hands taking a seat on the couch. 

“Victoria is waiting for us outside the tower, we need to go.” You finished up tying the laces on the shoes that magically fit perfectly. You stood up fixing your blazer when Annie stood in front of you grabbing your tie. Lightly flinching, Annie's eyebrow raised, 

“Easy…Hughie never gets his tie right, don’t need his minor mistake blowing your cover,” she fixed the black tie that poked out your collar. Huh…you didn’t see that. She tapped your chest backpedaling to the front door. You sent Hughie a nod as you followed Annie out into her car. 

“Here are your comms,” she started as you both got into her car. Looking at the earpiece you grimace lightly, now you’re gonna hear them annoy you ten times louder. 

“They will think you are Victoria’s little starbucks bodyguard.” She said watching you place the object into your ear, she started the car backing out and driving off. She went over the plan and who you were. 

“You are originally from France cause of your accent- okay, you did a tour and now you are now working for the FBSA,” 

“Woah woah, not those connards.” You spat when Annie just rolled her eyes pulling into a parking space. You sighed, nodding your head in defeat. Exiting out the car you button your blazer following behind Annie. 

“Oh and your name is Alex.” She finished walking up the stairs, you groaned, shaking your head following her. 

Your eyes caught the burgundy heels that connected so well with the tone legs your gaze were following. Your mouth almost pooled when you saw the beige skirt start right above her knees. She knew you were watching her, with the way your gaze slowly racked her body and to top it off a beige blazer with a maroon blouse that the top two were unbuttoned. 

“No coffee? So much for an assistant.” Victoria attempted to joke but you ignored her going up the last step ending up only a few inches from her face. 

“Write me up then, Ms.Neuman.” You whispered, your stare held fire but it only ignited the flames that blazed in her chest. You sent her a fake smile walking up to the main entrance. A shaky breath was released from her when she lifted her head letting her pride take the wheel as she turned on her heels making her way to the door. You held the door open as she walked in while Annie followed suit. 

You watched in disbelief at how quick the woman placed on this million dollar smile and was this woman you saw on TV. She shook hands and hugged people you couldn’t keep count on in the span of walking into the tower to entering the elevator. You leaned your head back against the metal wall of the small box sighing softly, 

“What? Can’t take a few hello’s?” Victoria teased when you sent her a look, 

“Not when I can smell the blood of those men running to leur bite when they see you.” You admitted fixing your blazer aggressively. The doors opened when you were the first to step out, your body slightly rammed into a buff man. 

“Watch where the fuck you’re walking.” he shouted backpedaling away with his eyes glued on you. You crumbled your hand into a fist as you kept your eyes on his. A hand was placed on yours when you saw Victoria leaned over sending a apologetic smile, 

“I’m so sorry! It’s their first day!” She shouted out when he disappeared down the hallway. A growl bubbled in your throat when her hand gripped your jaw bringing you down to look into her very fiery eyes. 

“Control yourself.” She gritted out, lightly patting your cheek with a smile when you saw someone walk by. You don’t know what happened to you but you unclench your fist as you sent her a nod. She took a step back nodding towards Annie who held the tiniest smirk, continuing her way down the hall. You entered a room that seemed to be a quarter for meetings, Victoria handed you her purse as you huffed sending her a smile. She mirrored you walking down the table taking a seat, you took a few steps back noticing a small chair in the far corner where no one can see. Unbuttoning your blazer, you took a seat placing the purse in your lap hearing the start of the meeting. A man started speaking and you tried your best but after a few minutes everything became muffled. Spacing out, you didn’t notice the woman that placed a hand on your shoulder. You looked up clearing your throat, 

“I’m sorry?” The woman chuckled softly at the speed you were moving to stand up giving you her full attention. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to pry but I wanted to just ask…how is it being the vice president's assistant?” She asked, smiling your way. You internally grimace at how big she was smiling. It seemed a bit sketchy. You blew a puff of air out chuckling softly, 

“It’s not for the weak, I can tell you that.” You spoke, the woman laughed quietly placing a hand on your bicep. “But I am very grateful to be able to be a part of the upcoming for Ms.Neuman. Look at her; she is extraordinary.” You gestured your hand her way as she stood talking about the military. The woman's smile faded as she gave your bicep a light squeeze turning your attention back to her. 

“Oh come on, from the looks of it…looks like you are more than just her assistant.” She said pulling you in a bit closer. You can’t lie, you wanted to snap this woman's neck if she didn’t get her hand off you. You shook your head smiling softly, 

“Just her assistant, unfortunately…” you softly laughed out. You heard the chairs moving and voices from the men when a hand was placed on your shoulder, 

“Ashley, so happy you met my assistant!” Victoria beamed, you felt the woman's hand release your bicep when you turned your head sending Victoria a small smile.

“Oh of course, how could I miss someone looking this good.” Ashley gushed letting out a laugh, Victoria did the same but you chuckled softly to mask the hiss you held from her nails digging into your shoulder. 

“Mmmh, I don’t know where you get assistants like this but I hope you have a variety of skills outside of politics…isn’t that right Vicky?” Ashley spoke laughing, patting your chest without giving you a light squeeze. Nervously chuckling, you glanced at the woman who still had a grip on you smiling at Ashleys remark. Her phone vibrated causing her to wave to the two of you, 

“Work calls. If you ever need another woman under your belt let me know.” Ashley said, grabbing a small business card from her files, sliding it into your blazer pocket. You laughed nodding her way when she slipped out the room. You kept a smile painted on your face as you handed Victoria her purse following her into the elevator. Annie entered after you pressed the lobby button sending you a look. 

“Now what the fuck was that?” Annie whispered-yelled when the smile on your face dropped. 

“You did good defending her like that but do not let Ashley think you’re fucking the vice president.” She scolded, sighing loudly. Victoria watched the way your jaw flex refraining from saying any smart remarks. Shaking your head, you kept your mouth shut when Annie waved her phone in your face when you all walked out the elevator quickly exiting the building. You heard your conversation with Ashley ring in your ear as you walked to the valet. You rolled your eyes when you heard your compliment and your voice sounded a little louder than you expected. Neumans phone rang when you heard a gruff voice on the line. 

‘A dead officer was found in your hotel room.’ 

You grabbed the keys from the valet waving your hand at the designated driver. He nodded making his way back into the tower as you hopped into the driver's side waiting for her to close the door. 

“I know a place.” You spoke out after you heard a frustrated sigh from the woman in the backseat. You glanced through the rearview to see her nodding, you exited the free way starting your route to the destination. Once the call ended when you pulled the car into a small parking lot, killing the engine turning to face her. 

“Take off your blazer.” Confusion flashed across her face but she understood when you started taking off your own. You groaned softly, rolling up your sleeves when a gasp was heard from the woman, you turned to see her eyes raking up your arm. You shook your head, yanking off the tie and tossing it into the passenger seat. 

“Here is how this is going to go.” You started undoing the top three buttons from your button up pulling out your necklace displaying the sapphire gem. “You have to follow everything I do. Do not engage with anyone without me. Do not look at anyone but me and do not pop anyone understand?” She nodded, grabbing her purse as you hopped out the car, opening her door. She noticed a small run down building a few yards away that had music blaring out and a man being thrown literally into the street. 

“You brought me to a fucking Supe club?” She spat when you started walking towards the club, she felt your hand sit on her lower back when you looked her way, 

“The one place they will not find you. Trust me,” You whispered as she saw your fangs protracting out of your gums. Your bright golden gaze was now caged by the dark veins that swarmed in and under your eyes. You ran your hand through your hair letting a loose strand fall on your forehead. At that moment, she knew this was going to see a side of you she is going to regret but deep down…she trusted you. The both of you walked to the door when the security guard placed a hand on your chest. You were a bit shorter than the man but the energy that seeped from your skin caused him to retract his hand nodding your way. 

“Je suis désolé, Cauchemar, tu peux entrer” (I am sorry, you may enter.) he spoke, opening the door wider for the two of you. The smell of alcohol and sex slapped you both in the face as you made way through the sea of dancing bodies. Luckily the only lights that were on were the black light helping the neon strobe lights pop out. The molded bodies soon became a few when you entered into the booths, you walked up the two steps that held a ‘PRIVATE’ sign. Walking right past it, you grabbed her hand sitting next to a woman whose attention was on a man snorting a line. You clapped loudly when his head shot up to meet your fanged smile. Neuman felt his heart speed up and a feeling of…fear. 

“Je savais que je te trouverais ici.” (I knew I would find you here.) You spoke leaning down grabbing the man's shoulder pulling him close so that your faces were inches apart. 

“S'il vous plaît, je vous donnerai l'argent bientôt.” (Please, I will give you the money soon.) he cried out, wiping the excess powder that covered his nostril. You leaned back nodding but quickly grabbing a fist full of his shirt slamming him into the table that sat in the middle of the section. A sharp breath was heard from the man when everyone around him scattered away like roaches. You looked up to see guards heading up the stairs when you raised your hand, noticing who you were they cowared away as if nothing was happening. The woman stood there in shock at the power you held in this building but what took her breath away was when the man spoke-

“Tell my wife that I am sorry.” He sobbed out, you sent him a nod grabbing the collar of his blazer sinking your fangs into his neck. Blood splattered beneath the man gasping for air when the woman flinched back at the sound of the ‘SNAP’ when his head whipped to the side. You leaned back moaning softly, wiping the blood that dripped from your skin. Your eyes found Victorias as you sent her a smile displaying your coated fangs. She braced herself for more of you as you leaned down grabbing the keys from his pocket. You sighed softly at the mess you made but moved towards Victoria extending your hand, 

“Let's go.” She gave in, grabbing your hand as you helped her up walking further into the club. She glanced back to see the men grabbing the dead man and quickly cleaning the section. Her eyes widened when she no longer saw his body but the amount of people that entered the booth partying as if you did not kill a man. You finally got to the back of the club where a small door was hidden, grabbing the keys of the man, you unlocked the door that revealed a flight of stairs. You opened the door wider letting her walk in as you followed behind closing the door and locking it. She kept walking till she saw a view of the city, especially the Vought Tower. You sighed, scanning the loft of the man as you went into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet. 

“Get some rest, that meeting wasted the entire day.” You spoke pouring yourself a shot, Victoria couldn't believe your calmness after murdering someone in front of many people. She walked to the kitchen and took a seat on the barstool that gave her a view of your back as you searched through the cabinets, 

“You just killed a man and you are telling me to rest?” 

Oh she wanted answers huh. Opening the last cabinet, you grabbed the small safe that hid behind the old pancake mix as you placed it on the small bar that separated you and her. You grabbed the top of the safe yanking it off with ease, at least twenty grand, a harddrive and vials of temp V were stashed. 

“How did he get a hold of temp V?” She asked, grabbing the vial, making sure it is what she thinks it is. You grabbed the cash stuffing it into the backpack that was hidden in the pantry, answering, 

“He was one of Nina’s suppliers. She planned on getting enough Temp V to test and if it worked… she was going to use Compound V to make soldiers.” You spoke with ease grabbing the thumb drive and placing it into your back pocket. You grabbed the Vials from her hand opening them, you tilted them over the sink watching them flow down the drain. 

“But he was short and on the run since. I was ordered to kill him the night before your FBSA killed the underground.” You finished dropping the vials into the trash can. You walked into the bedroom/living room going through the closet grabbing a bag that contained clothes. You tossed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt pointing to the bathroom, she kept her eyes on you when you spoke. 

“Wash up. Tomorrow’s meeting was canceled…I heard Ashleys call on the way down.” You walked up to her when she didn’t mutter a word. Her eyes were just stuck on you. 

You swiped the pad of your thumb on the tip of your tongue running it across her cheek, her breath was caught in her throat when you placed your thumb in between your lips licking off the red substance. 

“You have blood all over your clothes.” She blinked away the trance she was in walking to the bed grabbing the clothes as she walked into the bathroom locking the door behind her. She leaned over the sink, her hands gripping the sides when she looked at her reflection in the mirror. God she was a mess, blood from the man was splattered across her face and stained into her clothes. How could you be this evil ...well, she couldn't say that about you knowing the things she has done to get her to where she is now but she couldn’t stop the whimper that dashed out her mouth when the thought of you running your tongue down your neck cleaning the blood for her. 

She huffed turning on the shower letting the steam from the hot water fog up the mirror. You sat at the dining table with the shot glass between your lips listening to every move, breath and sound she made. 

______________

Off to bed i go.

[incorrect-mtg]

The Therapeutic Properties of Smashing Stuff

When Kaya arrives in Kaldheim, she expects to be swept away in Tyvar's endless enthusiasm. To be able to forget about the entire mess Oba made of Ravnica and the Phyrexian Invasion that instigated it all. But when she finally meets the elf, he's uncharacteristically somber.

It's easy to forget sometimes, with his youth and general bravado, that Tyvar Kell can be incredibly perceptive. So when he looks at Kaya and immediately announces they need to do something else before their long-awaited fishing trip, she just sighs and keeps pace with him.

They stop quite a distance away from the sea, at an unassuming rocky outcrop. Before she can ask what they are even doing there, Tyvar has already trasmuted a crude Warhammer out of the stone and shoved it into her hands.

She just stands there for a moment, holding the weapon, before asking "So… What am I doing with this?"

Tyvar gives her a grin that could rival the sun in brightness, before pointing at her "You," he shifts, pointing to the hammer "needs to smash," and to the rock in front of her "some stuff. It will help."

A moment of silence.

"… I'm not sure I follow?"

Tyvar hums, then approaches the closest boulder and says "let's see if this helps" before he touches it, his magic quickly shaping the rock into a crude but immediately recognizable bust.

She feels her fists tighten around the hammer instinctively.

It is clearly not to scale, of course, but that matters little for something as unique as Elesh Norn's headpiece. Kaya finally understands what Tyvar is going for here and gladly takes the opportunity.

The stone Norn is beautiful as it breaks down into pebbles from her swings.

Tyvar helps her along, conjuring more images of Phyrexians from the boulder: she tears apart obliterators, praetors, even the horrors that Phyrexia dared call "angels."

She doesn't know when, exactly, the figures she's destroying stop being supplied by her friend's magic.

With multiple swings, she smashes the rest of the Gatewatch. Teferi, who got HIS own happy ending; Ajani and Nissa, who let themselves be compleated in the first place — even though she knows, truly KNOWS, it was not their fault; Jace, self-sacrificial to a fault; Chandra, who left her alone to pick up the pieces of a group she wasn't even a founder of!

She strikes down the guildmasters of Ravnica, too caught up in their own self-importantance to realize everyone, everywhere is just as hurt if not more.

She tears down Oba, for daring to kill Teysa.

She swings a final time at an image of herself, for being so weak as to let it happen in the first place.

In the end, what had once been a boulder is unrecognizable, broke down into smaller parts. She's panting, barely able to raise the hammer again with how tired her arms are.

"So," Tyvar says, taking the chipped and cracked hammer from her "feeling better?"

Her response catches in her throat and she doesn't know if the sound that comes out of her mouth is closer to a laugh or a sob. She meets his gaze.

"I think… I need to smash another boulder."

[jqmalikhsgib]

train wreck

one

you look at yourself in the mirror. you couldn’t believe you let it get this far. you knew you should have left the moment he laid a hand on you the first time.

you’d been blinded by love. every single time he told you he wouldn’t do it again, you believed him. every.last.word!

you told yourself it was your fault. maybe if you were a better cook, maybe if you ironed his shirt correctly, maybe if you didn’t embarrass him in front of his friends, maybe if you’d been a better wife. he wouldn’t hurt you the way he did. it had to be your fault, right?

he was the perfect man. the kind of man your parents wanted you to marry. he’s rich, successful, and smart. he was everything you looked for in a man, according to your mom that is.

at first he was the perfect man. he treated you like a princess. you were his princess. he was the kind of man that made you believe fairytales could be real.

but after two years of dating, the abuse happened. it started out small. something as simple as calling you stupid. verbal abuse.

but as time went on, his hands became his weapon of choice. when he proposed, that’s when you thought maybe the abuse would stop.

but this only made it worse. he thought of you as his property. he knew you’d never go to the police. you’d never tell a soul what he’d been doing.

four years go by. four years of covering up black eyes, four years of hiding bruises, four years of coming up with excuses as to what really happened to your arm.

and right now, as you look at the positive pregnancy test, you knew you had to leave! you couldn’t bring a child into this kind of environment.

you swallowed your pride and dialed a number you’d never thought you had to dial again, a number you tried to forget.

“prentiss.”

emily rushes to the front desk of the hospital immediately asking for your name. when she got the room number she hurried to you.

her eyes widened when she saw your face. she barely recognized you.

it had been some time since emily saw you. the last time she saw you was a week before your wedding. she noticed the signs right away. she tried to convince you that you didn’t have to marry james. you could report him and get him arrested for the bruises on your wrist you tried to hide.

james found out about your conversation and didn’t take a liking to it. he hit you mercilessly before you uninvited emily to your wedding. emily hoped that you’d leave before things get any worse. before james would kill you.

and now, as she sees your face busted, arms covered in bruises, your skinny frame, she couldn’t help but blame herself. she should have pushed you harder into leaving.

emily couldn’t believe the girl woman she babysat all those years ago grew up in an loveless, abusive, marriage.

“god, yn!”

you looked up and start to shed tears. seeing emily again made you feel whole. she’d been the only real family you had. you knew your parents wouldn’t help you. they’d tell you to tough it out, be a better wife, do better for james. emily was the only person you knew that would drop anything and everything for you. she’d been the only person that was willing to save you from years of torture.

emily examines your face. she sighs before the nurse comes in.

“misses harper?”

“please, it’s yln.” you whispered.

the nurse gives her a sad smile. nodding understandably. she’s seen plenty of women come in and out of this hospital with marks and bruises all over their bodies from domestic abuse. she knew the signs of the women who would leave it all behind and the signs of the women who would go back.

“the doctor should be with you shortly. i just wanted to make sure you know your options beforehand.” she hands you a few pamphlets. you try your best to grab the quickly. emily beats you to it and sighs.

“thank you nurse.” emily smiles as the nurse nods her head and leaves them to talk.

“you sure you’re pregnant?”

“i missed my period the past two months. i took a few test before coming here. im pretty sure.” you gulp. “i don’t know what to do em. i—im sorry for calling you and bringing you into my mess of a life. i just—”

“stop! you can call me any time, yn. i just hate that it got this far. i hate that you went through this alone.”

when the doctor arrives you lie back and lift your shirt. she pours some gel on your belly before rolling around the wand. you grab emily’s hand. you wait patiently before the doctor shows you a little black dot.

“theirs your baby! would you like to hear the heartbeat?”

“i—i don’t know. i don’t know what i want exactly. i don’t know if i even want to—god, i don’t know if i can do this.” you shed more tears. you’ve cried so much in the last four days. in the last six years.

“doctor, may you give us a moment?”

the doctor nods understandably before leaving. emily looks you in the eyes. “hey, tell me what’s going on?”

“i don’t know if i can do this emily. i wanna be a mom. ive always wanted to be a mom. but how do i bring a child in this world knowing their father— emily, im alone here. im alone. i can’t do this alone.”

“you won’t, yn! rather you want to keep the baby or not, you won’t be alone. you got me, alright? i can help you anyway you need me to. you’re family, remember? remember what i told you when you were younger?”

you give her a small smile. “no matter what, you’re like my sister. my only family. you got my back and i got yours.”

emily nods. “so, for once in your life after having your whole life being decided for you, what do you want?”

you wipe the tears out of your swollen eye gently. “i wanna keep him. i wanna keep my baby.”

emily nods. “ill call a few of the guys i work with. we can go to your house and pick up your things. hopefully he won’t be there.”

you simply nod your head. “are you sure i can stay with you? i don’t wanna be a bother.”

emily shakes her head. “no! you’re never a bother, alright. you can never be a bother yn.”

you nod your head. when the doctor comes back in, you tell her you wanted to hear the heartbeat. when you do, you fall in love. after she carefully lets you know what’s next, appointment, what kind of vitamins to take, what you should avoid eating and drinking, you and emily head out to her hotel room.

emily lies out clothes for you to put on. you thank her before heading to the shower. you tried to clean your body as best as you could. trying to wipe james off of you.

you felt like you could finally relax. for the past few days you’ve been looking over your shoulders. you’ve been waiting for james to find you. you knew if he did he’d kill you.

you had even threw your phone in the river. you’ve been trying to keep a low profile until you knew emily was on her way. when she told you she was an hour away you finally went to the hospital. it wasn’t just you that you had to look after any longer. you had a kid to think about. a human growing inside of you.

you had to get to the hospital to make sure they were alright. you think about the stress you’ve endured the last few days. replaying in your head over and over again. finally feeling free and safe.

when you get out of the shower, emily wraps her arms around you. she kisses the top of your forehead. “get some sleep.”

and for the first time in a long time, you finally slept peacefully.

the next morning you hear whispers. your eyes flutter before you suddenly lift yourself up. you sigh in relief when you realized you were still in the hotel.

“hey! it’s alright. did we wake you?”

you turned and frowned. you saw two men standing by the desk.

one of the men was more lanky than the other. his hair fell a little on his shoulders. he looked like he was around your age.

the other was older. he was more muscular. his head was clean shaven. he had a goatee. the both stood tall.

“no. it’s fine.” you shake your head.

“sorry! they flew in last night. they’re here to help get your things. make sure that james doesn’t harm you if he’s there.”

you simply nod your head.

“thank you.”

“don’t thank us, sweetheart! any family of emily’s is ours as well.” he gives you a winning smile.

“this is derek and that’s spencer. dave and hotch are outside as well. hotch actually wants to ask you a few questions.” emily states.

you give her a questionable look. “if you’re up for it. we don’t wanna rush you or anything. but, james should pay for this, yn.”

you simply shake your head. “trust me em, he won’t! james he’s—he has connections. he’d get away with it.”

“maybe not, yn. don’t you wanna at least try?”

“what i want is to get far away from him as possible. please, em? i don’t wanna go through any of this. i don’t wanna go through this train wreck any longer.”

emily nods her head.

“lets just focus on getting your things, yeah?” spencer gives you a sad smile. you nod your head. emily helps you up.

the four of you head outside. you walk to a black suv. you see two older men.

“this is dave and that’s my boss, hotch.”

you nod. thankful you had your sunglasses on. you didn’t need anyone else seeing how bad your face looked. emily helps you get in the back of the car. she sits beside you as she grabs your hand. you squeezed it gently. you look up to see hotch looking at you in the rear view.

he gives you a simple nod. you put your hands on your belly. feeling a little bit of a flutter. when you finally get to your home you sigh in relief. james car wasn’t in the driveway.

when hotch parked the car they all get out of the car. you grab your key as you unlock the door. you look around the house. it was left the same as the night you left. you figured james left it that way so you’d come home and clean the mess.

emily sighs. she sees glass everywhere, pictures on the ground, everything looked like a crime scene. it was a crime scene.

you step over the broken table. you head upstairs, everyone following behind you. when you get to your shared bedroom you grab a suitcase. emily walks over to your closet and grabs a few clothes.

you walk over to your shared bathroom. you grab your toiletries and put them in a bag.

once you finished grabbing the most important things you head back downstairs. everyone gathered back in the car and drove out of the driveway. you rest your head on emily.

you were extremely exhausted. emily felt your head and frowned. she knew you’d probably have a fever with being constantly on radar. emily asked hotch to stop by a drug store once they get farther out.

when you finally arrived to emily’s she told you to get some rest. you fell asleep right on the spot.

emily closed the door gently to her guest bedroom. she asked if anyone wanted any water.

“has she said anything else to you? anything about james?”

emily shakes her head. “nothing.”

“she’s deserves justice, prentiss. is there anything at all you can do to convince her?”

“i don’t think so. guys, yn, she’s always been pretty fragile. even as a young girl.”

“what do you mean?”

emily sighs. she sits down next to derek before continuing. “yn grew up kinda the same as i did. her parents, her father was a politician. he was hardly around. her mom would go with her. they left her alone with me. she was only eight when i started ‘babysitting’ i was barely sixteen. we both just understood each other. with our parents barely paying us any mind. i had a wall up. i was hardly trust anyone, especially my parents. anything my mom said to me, promised me, i heard in one ear and out the other. yn was different. she trusted her parents. they’d tell her they’ll take her somewhere, pick her up, travel to different countries, but it never panned out. she still believed them. she trusted their judgement on anything and everything. that includes people she’s dated. if a guy was out of their liking, they’d tell her. she’d break things off with him and find someone new. but nothing she did was ever good enough for them. it’s why i had a hard time leaving. i just—i couldn’t stay there. i had to get out of there and find my own way. yn also had her own dreams. she wanted more than being the daughter of a government official. she wanted to brighten her horizons. but her parents had other plans. when she was legal, they’d introduced her to james. they thought he was perfect for yn. yn still trusted their judgment and dated him. when i got the invitation to the wedding, i thought it was some sick joke. i graduated with james harper. i knew the kind of man he was. ive heard rumors here and there of the women he abused in the past. even seen some of the flinch at the smallest most innocent gestures. when i saw her, when i saw yn, i knew he’d been hurting her. i tried to get her to move, come live with me, get away from all the abuse she’s endured. she just shrugged it off and left. the next phone call i got from her was her uninviting me to her wedding. i knew from the way her voice trembled he’d hurt her bad. i tried telling her parents but they didn’t believe a word i said. they agreed that i was no longer invited to the wedding. i was sure when i got a phone call from her again, it would be the hospital or her parents telling me she was killed. it sucks, it’s pretty fucking shitty, but she’s right. james has so many connections. he could get away with murder.”

“we can’t just let this guy walk, em.”

emily looks at her teammates. she sighs as she nods her head in agreement.

“ill try and talk with her. right now, i wanna make sure she’s okay. she’s like my sister. she is my sister. this is personal.”

they all nod understandably. everyone says their goodbyes before hotch stops. he turns. “if she needs anything, anything at all emily, call me alright?”

emily nods her head. “i will. thanks hotch.”

hotch nods his head before leaving. emily gently closes her front door before walking into her guest room, and lying next to you.

okay…this is all over the place but i promise it’ll get better! i just wanted to get everything out in the open before i continue.

this is a hotch x reader story and will be kinda fast paced going from here. i said before, i don’t like slow burns that are too slow!

so slow burn but not three toed sloth slow

[cokoweee]

✨🧚✨

Writing action is so hard :(

~

Obligation sat heavy in his chest, chaining him to the roof. He hated city sweeps with a passion. Sure it was fun to kick around bad guys, but he’d so much rather be in his bed. Sometimes you run just to feel your lungs burn he supposed.

So here he was. On top of a building. Staring at an empty alleyway.

He pressed his face against the wall, his goggles leaving painful imprints in his skull. He grounded himself in the way they cut into his skin. They were doing their job, reminding him of his cruel existence here on this roof.

Wind whipped through his hair as he watched from his perch on the building. He could move of course, find somewhere else where he could be useful. But his limbs refused to listen. He felt like he was made of stone. Just like a gargoyle he thought, amused. Perched atop a building. In theory protecting, in practice, just a decoration.

That’s all he was. A decorative piece of stone, crafted to defend, but nothing more than a hunk of muscle.

A hooded figure ripped him from his thoughts as they wandered into the empty alleyway. Maybe the night wouldn’t be a bust after all. He shifted his weight to pounce as he watched the figure move. They headed deep into the alley, shrouded by the darkness, poorly hiding a package under their shirt. He rolled his eyes and waited patiently for another figure to arrive.

His joints creaked slightly as he leapt, stiff from standing still for so long. Landing silently, he melded to the shadows creeping close enough to hear their conversation.

“-one followed.” The voice said, hushed. “Yes. I made sure no one saw.”

The other voice grunted something unintelligible as they held out their hand. He took notice of the small knife secured in the figure's belt pocket and placed a hand around his bō. He didn’t think the girl would be able to do much damage with it, but it was better to err on the edge of caution.

“I saw.” He sing-songed, stepping into their line of view.

He was already here. Why not have a little fun?

The hooded figures spun around, one brandishing their knife, the other a blunt stick. He stared, unimpressed as they swung their weapons wildly. Until finally- finally, the male figure squared his shoulders and threw himself at Donatello.

He grinned.That’s what he was waiting for.

He held up his bō to deflect the blow and quickly stuck it under the baton and pulled. The figure immediately fell forward, thrown off balance. He repressed a small smile as the figure looked up from the concrete bewildered. Poor guy had probably never fought a day in his life.

Blood rushed through his veins as he brought his bō down swiftly to his head. He pushed away the twinge of guilt as he saw the terror in the man’s eyes. He didn’t like it when they looked like that. He took a deep breath as he set his gaze to the second figure.

Flinching as the staff came flying at her face, she stumbled to the ground, barely dodging and cursing wildly. “What the- Dude!”

He didn’t say a word letting the girl get back up. May as well give her a chance.The hooded girl rushed toward him, a knife held tightly in her hand.

He let it happen.

Her fist collided with his face. His lip split, blood bubbling from his mouth as he looked down stupefied.

He hadn’t expected that. The hit, yes, but for it to break skin?

She raced forward again, twisting as she stopped in front of him, using the top of her foot to land a blow squarely to the middle of his chest. He didn’t move.

He hasn’t been in a fight since the invasion. Little squabbles here and there, sure. But nothing where he was required to use any sort of his past training. She was clearly amateur, but it was the first time in a long time he’d had to consider going back to the dojo.

He watched her move. She had lacked any true power in her kick. Probably better for her to stick to punches he thought dimly as she launched herself at him again.

She punched him again, knife in hand. He balked as she sliced just above his eye. Blinking away the red flowing freely into his eye, he shook his head to clear the funk, and readied himself for another blow.

He was getting tired of this.

She ran at him again, her knife tucked away in her jacket. He waited for her to get within fingertips touch before reaching out and grabbing her arm. Twisting her arm until the heel of her hand pointed toward the ceiling, he pushed her to the ground, placing his right shoulder in between her shoulder blades to force her against the ground.

She struggled against his grip, sticking her arm out in a vain attempt to free herself. She thrashed wildly, throwing pebbles and whatever else she could grab into his face as he pressed her down further. Her knife clattered against the pavement as she whipped around.

He knew, rationally, that he should stop. Leave an anonymous tip to the police that two idiots were selling drugs in the alleyway. But he didn’t. His blood seemed to hum as he moved. This is what he was made for. Destruction. Pain.

The girl had apparently noticed his hesitation and used her freed hand to grab her knife and punch his side.

Hard.

He hissed, tightening his grip around her as she screeched. Something warm trickled down his side as he stood slowly. He brought his bō over her head, knocking her out effectively and grabbing her companion.

He placed them at the entrance of the alleyway, making sure to keep himself in the shadows. He tapped his wrist tech to send an alert to the police force before slinking back into the darkest corner he could find.

Something was wrong.

Asphalt crunched beneath his back as he sank to the ground. He took shallow breaths, clamping his hand against his side. Blood seeped out faster than he could staunch it. He gritted his teeth as he watched it trickle down his torso.

When had that happened?

His hand shook as he tore it from his stomach to inspect the damage. He was hot. So, so hot. It was the middle of September. Why was he so hot?

He stared at his torso reluctantly. There was a small wound right in the middle of his ribs. The actual stabbing had missed any vital organs thankfully, but it looked like it had been twisted at some point. Probably when she had yanked it out he assumed.

With all his mutations he was relatively protected from particularly life threatening symptoms. He could probably make it home if he tried. Probably.

He clasped a hand over the exposed scales of his side and stood up shakily. His legs screamed in protest as he moved, somehow still stiff from hours of perching on the rooftop. His free hand flew to the wall, supporting his weight as he stood.

His fingers filled with warmth as more thick blood oozed from his side. He ignored the way it slipped from his hand and into the ground, filling his ears with a steady drip. He tapped a message to Sheldon, his vision swirling in and out of focus.

He just needed to get ho-

~

Ooga booga 👹

-writing anon

I’ll send the last part ( the fun stuff) tmmr

I KNEW I READ SOMETHING FROM YOU

ACTION ID HARD MAN I FUCKIN FEEL U MAN AAUUGHHH ARARARASRARARARAR

Part 2

[daddysfangirls-dc]

The Arrangement

Ch 1 Old Habit

Damian Wayne x OC!Female

Next

Damian sighed, and she began to move, unlatching herself from him and moving away. He looked at her, confused. " I know that sigh. It's your 'I have to leave' sigh." Despite her thoughts and feelings, she moved away, allowing him to begin his departure.

"I didn't realize I had become habitual."

"No, I've just known you long enough to see the small tell." She watches him as he puts on his mask and heads for her window.  " Robin?" he turns back towards her. " Thank you, and Good Luck." And he vanishes into the night. 

-

"Looks like you're falling back into old habits," Tim flinched so hard that he swore his heart stopped. He blamed his sleep deprivation on why Jason got so close without being noticed. He needed sleep. 

"Stop," Tim whined as he tried to swat Jason's hands away from his laptop. 

"Stalking Robin truly is a pastime for you," Jason teased as he scrolled through the pictures of Robin, aka Damian.

"What a minute, go back!" Tim was sure his heart stopped this time as he flinched so hard he fell out of his chair. Fortunately, Dick caught him and sat him up straight. Tim was going to bed after this.  

"Who is that?" Dick asked. Tim rubbed his face before looking. Robin stood next to a girl in a red and black Kimono with the League of Assassins insignia. 

"I don't know"

"When did you take this picture?"

"I don't know"

"How-"

"I haven't slept for 73 hours. I am surviving on power naps, energy drinks, and caffeine. I don't remember everything. Forgive me if I miss a few details."  While complaining, Tim worked to get the details of that photo and other similar photos. He knew that things could slip past him with his lack of sleep and had programs to back up his work on such occasions. He pulled up the dates and locations on each photo.

"All of these took place within the last week or so," Dick said, scrolling through the details. 

"I didn't get my first clear picture of her until today. Haven't run it through any database yet."

"We'll take it from here. Got to bed," Jason said, pushing Tim out of his seat. 

"But-"

"Nope, time for bed," Dick said as he pulled Tim away and towards the door. Jason could hear Tim's weak protest down the hall as they went. " Tim is snug as a bug," Dick said smugly when he returned. Tim was too tired to fight Dick's swattling. A Win in his book.

"Nobody," Jason said as Dick sat down at the counter next to him. " Every database, every agency, this chick doesn't exist."

"Not a surprise," Dick said " It is the league. Does he know when or why she came into town? What's her relationship to Damian?" 

"I don't know; there are no notes. All I got was pictures, nothing else. At least not that I can find."

"We'll have to talk to Tim when he wakes up. And look into her. We'll also keep a closer eye on Robin during patrol. " 

It was obvious from the body language that Damian not only knew the girl but was comfortable with her. While Dick was suspicious and cautious, especially with the league, in the case of Damian, he did not wish to jump to conclusions that might get him hurt. They'd wait. Damian was home now and in bed; they'd wait until they had more information and more people. They'd wait. 

-

"We can't keep meeting like this," Robin said as he walked up to her, as she tied up the unconscious men. She wore her usual black and red kimono and mask but was bare of any weapons aside from her grabbing hook. She tried never to carry a weapon in Gotham at Robin's request. She looked at him, confused. " Almost every time we meet, it is surrounded by unconscious thugs. It's the standard now."

He didn't say anything, instead calling Oracle to tell her that he had come upon a drug bust and handled it on his own. He'd take the lecture later. He listens for the chorus of disapproval for a bit, then mutes his comm again. She hung her catch, and the two left before the police arrived.

"has my mother contacted you?"

"Not yet. Then again, she thinks I'm still in South America. I finished my mission earlier and didn't tell," she said, leaning back against the wall. He looked over the edge, watching down below.

"How many days do you have left?"

"Three, not including tonight."

"Time is in our favor then."

"Only if you let it be. Do you have plans after this?" she asked, leaning on his waist as he leaned over the edge. 

"No"

"Do you want to come over? Watch a movie? and have late-night snacks. Just spend a late night together."

"Acceptable"

"Come to my place when you're done," she said as she saluted him and then disappeared into the shadows. He'd go back to her safe house later on. And spending some alone time together without beating up thugs. He'd like a light of peace or semi-peace. If only for an hour or even 30 minutes. Just time with her. 

[infoglitch]

i see you are whiteknight trash like i am. let me ask you this weiss is captured in atlass, the schnee family mansion. We must stage a tactical rescue. who does jaune bring as part of the mission to break her out and what is their role? starter lineup, nora? demolitions expert, ren? assasin. Oscar? union representative. Qrow? Wildcard. Whats jaunes plan? (dont think about it too hard, this is purely wish fufilment "fuck yeah" kinda fiction. dont even gotta write any thing in character or nathin)

Ah @philosophicalpug you've come to the right shop.

But I must warn you. For I am someone who goes overboard. You just allowed me to be fuckin GOOFY.

Let's get fucking ridiculous!

Breaking out the ice queen!

The night was cold as Weiss sat in her room, trapped in her own mansion. As some punks managed to jump her, demanding a ransom of 3,000,000 lien. However Weiss knew one thing.. one significant thing that anyone on this planet should fear her for.

She had the money to buy all the ingredients for Ren's pancake recipe. Meaning one person. Nora Valkyrie.

We cut to RBYJNRQO as Nora seemed to be preparing her weapon as she had a shadow over her face.

Ruby: alright everyone. Let's run over the plan again.

Jaune: ok, first Ruby, your our a way in and out.

Ruby: yang is our distraction.

Yang: I'll cause some noise so that way they don't notice you all bust in.

Jaune: blake-

Blake: I'm making sure yang has backup.

Jaune:.. I was gonna say you watch our backs but ok.

Oscar: I'll handle negotiations if you can't find her.

Ren: I'll take over Blake's position so that way you have someone watching out for you.

Ruby: thanks Ren.

Ren: Weiss is our friend.. we won't abandon her.

Nora: I'll break through the walls.. and any guards legs.

Everyone looked at Nora as Ren just sighed before hugging her.

Qrow: I guess that leaves me. I'll be around.. I wanna see if my semblance can be useful.

Ruby: you don't have to do that uncle qr-

Qrow: this is your friend, kiddo. For all I know if I join you on this breakout mission she could get seriously hurt.

Ruby:.. alright but if things go bad?

Qrow: I said I'd be around didn't I?

Qrow had a smirk as Ruby smiled at him. Jaune clapped his hands as he had a grin.

Jaune: alright we got everyone ready. Let's get to work!

Nora & Yang: YEAH!

We cut back to Weiss as she hummed softly. Her eyes looked at the window as she for a second saw a plume of red from beyond it. A smile crept up her face as the 25 minutes felt like 15 seconds as jaune, Ruby, Ren, and Nora came in.

Ruby's face quickly turned to a smile as she practically flung herself at the heiress.

Ruby: WEISS!

Weiss chuckled as Ruby hugged her.

Weiss: good to see you too Ruby.

Jaune: alright before we can be all cuddly and celebrate we gotta get you out.

Weiss: I expected so.. do you have Myrtenaster?

Jaune practically yoinked out Weiss's weapon as Weiss smiled. With said smile evoking a small blush on Jaune's face.

After a few minutes and an annoyed Nora having to cut Weiss's bindings despite her not being forced to. Weiss was free as she held Myrtenaster and inspected it. It seemed to still be in pristine condition.

Weiss: now let's get going.

Nora didn't even reply she just broke down the wall as Ruby quickly took Ren and Nora as she petal burst off.

Weiss: while we have this time.. Jaune?

Jaune looked at the heiress as the girl gave him a nod.

Weiss: thank you.

Jaune: shouldn't you be thanking Ruby?

Weiss: trust me I will.. but I wanted to personally thank you first.. you've become a lot better of a man.

Jaune: well.. I want to make sure I'm able to help my friends.. and that means being a lot less of an ass.

Weiss just smirked before Ruby arrived as she took Weiss and Jaune and they left in a burst of petals.

Mission: SUCCESS

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Ooo can I also please request a Tangerine x fem!civilian!reader where Y/n is is Tangerine’s wife and one day she is at home alone (in the mansion she shares with Tan and Lem), while her husband and brother in law are on a job, and she hears the door and thinks it’s them coming home, until the door slams shut and things downstairs are being destroyed (it’s one of the twin’s enemies). Y/n runs to her and Tan’s room, and shakily grabs the gun that Tan told her to grab in case of emergency (he taught her how to use it). The bad guys find her and she has to defend herself, the Twins coming home to her covered in blood and sobbing/hyperventilating+ Tangerine taking her into his arms and holding her close, petting her hair 🥺

🥹love it. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

incase of emergency

tangerine x fem!reader

wc || 0.5k

warnings || mentions of blood, weapons & death

masterlist + rules

taglist

Tangerine and Lemon have been away on a mission for the last few days, so that meant you were home alone in the mansion you shared with the twins. It was coming up to the time they said they’d be back, so when you hear the front door slam shut, you happily make your way to the landing to greet them. Immediately stopping in your tracks when you hear smashing and clattering from downstairs. Ducking to the floor, quietly crawling back into the bedroom. Carefully standing up to retrieve a gun from your bedside table. Panic settles in when you hear an indistinct conversation from the living room. Covering your mouth to stop your heavy breathing so you could hear what they were saying.

“Where’s his girl? Her car is there.”

Eyes bugging out your head when you realise they were talking about you. Ducking behind the bed, with your gun directed at the bedroom door. Trying your best to contain your shaky hands.

Footsteps ‘stealthily’ rush up the stairs, creeping around doors to find you. But when you see three figures appear in front of the door you pull the trigger, aiming at all of their chests without a second thought. Peeking up from the bed to make sure they’re down, you rush over to them, dragging them out of the way of the door so you could slam it shut.

Lugging their heavy weight, grip made difficult from their already red-saturated clothing.

Tears prickle as you shut the door, running into the walk-in wardrobe and cowering yourself in the safe nook. Bringing your knees to your chest so you could cry. Sobbing into your knees, waiting impatiently for Tangerine and Lemon to return home.

As someone who is married to one of the deadliest pair of assassins, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be used as bait between vendettas. The twins had many created enemies over the years. So much so, that as soon as you started dating, he taught you everything he knew; teaching you how to load and use guns, practice aim, and even the correct way of disposing bodies. He taught you how to protect yourself if the unthinkable happened.

So now, you were huddled in a small space, silently sobbing to yourself, desperately trying to remember their words of encouragement.

You hear cars pull up out front with two worried yells following shortly after. “Y/N!” Footsteps stamp up the stairs, heavily running across the wooden floor, urgently trying to find you.

“Y/N!” Your husband's panicked voice shouts from behind the door, noticing the pile of dead bodies pooled in blood.

He busts the door open, frantically looking around until he sees you curled up on the floor hyperventilating. Immediately rushing over and falling to his knees beside you. Anxious hands checking your pulse. A genuine sigh of relief escapes him, “are- are you hurt?” He questions, already thinking the worst.

“No.” You quietly mumble.

“Oh thank fuck- I’m so sorry… I’m so so sorry.” Pulling you into his lap, holding you close to his chest. His comforting hands brushing over the back of your hair to calm you. “I thought I lost you.” He muffles into the crown of your head.

@tangerinesgf

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@over-at-the-frank3nstein-place

@earth-elemental18

@ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations

@idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser

@thewinterv

@navs-bhat

@ilovetangerinewithallmyheart

@theredvelvetbitch

@randomawesomeperson102

[underforeversgrace]

under the river

DannyMay 2023 Day 11: Underwater

title: under the river

words: 1181

Part 1 of 2

(Part 2: after the water)

Excerpt: Is this really a choice she was about to have to make? Dying together with her husband or leaving him to die on his own?

~~~~~~

Honestly, considering her husband’s driving, maybe Maddie should have expected this to eventually happen, she thought as the glass began to crack from the pressure.

“Jack!” She called again, uselessly trying to shake her husband.

He said nothing, red blood dribbling down his face from the injury to his forehead.

Maddie looked around, desperately trying to think of something, anything.

They were at the bottom of a river, the dark murky water rendering it impossible for them to see anything. If only they had been in the GAV, instead of borrowing Jazz’s car, it wouldn’t have mattered when Jack accidentally ran off the side of the cliff, through the guardrail and into the water below.

Stupid parking deck - at the stupid doctors office they were going to for their stupid annual checkup - not being big enough to accommodate the size of the GAV. 

Maddie was doing her best to not panic. She could get herself out easily, of course, just bust the window and swim, but she had no way of getting Jack out. Unconscious as he was, if she busted the window now and got out… he was done for. As it was, though, water was starting to leak in from under her feet, the spider web crack grew in the glass. 

Is this really a choice she was about to have to make? Dying together with her husband or leaving him to die on his own?

A mental image of Danny and Jazz came to her mind and tears began to flow. Jazz would be graduating high school in just a few months and, despite how much he’d pulled away from them, Danny still needed them.

At least… he needed one of them. Jazz would be fine on her own, but she couldn’t care for her brother and Maddie wouldn’t leave her in a position where she had to. Maddie blinked hard as tears began to pool in her eyes.

She had a choice here and she could not choose to leave her kids as orphans.

“I love you.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek, doing her best not to feel the gentle pulse under his skin, proof he was alive.

And then she turned her attention to the passenger window beside her and kicked, shattering the glass with the metal on the heel of her shoe. She refused to look behind her as she threw herself through the window frame and swimming for the surface.

Her head broke the surface and she began coughing, swimming to the opposite bank, where a small bit of land was.

“Maddie!” A voice called behind her, echo amplified in the slight valley they were in.

Seriously? Now? She couldn’t have five seconds to grieve the death of her husband or to figure out how to get out of this valley?

“Go away, Phantom!” She shouted, fists clenching angrily at her side. Her weapons were, unfortunately, not waterproof.

“Where’s Jack?” Phantom questioned, looking for him.

“Go away!” She simply shouted again.

Phantom scowled and dove down to her, grabbing her upper arms and gripping too tightly, anger and panic successfully mimicked on his face. “Where is he?” He shouted.

“I couldn’t get him out too!” She yelled back, finally sobbing, going slightly limp in the ghost’s hands as grief overwhelmed her.

“He’s down there?” Phantom said, eyes widening in shock. Why did he insist on pretending to be human? She was just so tired of it right now. He let go of her and she collapsed to her knees, sobbing as she wrapped her arms around herself, not even noticing as Phantom dove into the water.

The love of her life, gone. Because she left him behind.

Less than a minute passed before Phantom re-emerged, soaked with water, Jack in hand.

“Move!” He shouted at her, laying Jack down on the ground beside her. Maddie, shocked, did as she was told. “Fuck!” The ghost said, beginning chest compressions. “One, two, three, four…”

Maddie watched in amazement, her mind short circuited from grief and surprise. Phantom, the ghost they’d been trying to capture for nearly a year now… was correctly doing CPR on her husband, who’s body and chest were still. Why would he be trying so hard to save someone who wanted him dead? Why did he even know how to do CPR?

After the chest compressions - which he continued to do, even as he mumbled so lowly Maddie couldn’t hear him - he inhaled, pinched Jack’s nose, and pushed air into her husband’s mouth.

Phantom could breathe?

“Please,” he whispered when he pulled away, frantically beginning compressions again.

This had to be the most surreal sight Maddie had ever seen, a ghost trying to breathe life into her ghost hunting husband.

Wait… a ghost…

“Wait, Phantom!” She said, scrambling to her feet as her brain finished its restart.

“I’m trying to save him! Shoot me later!” He shouted at her as he moved to do mouth to mouth again, wet white hair plastered to his face.

“Intangibility! Get the water out that way!”

He groaned. “Dying really didn’t give me any more brain cells, did it?” He said, intangibility sweeping across Jack’s body, the water falling harmlessly from him.

As soon as that happened, Jack drew a heavy breath, trying to cough up water no longer in him as Phantom returned him to tangibility.

“Dad!” Phantom yelled, throwing his arms around Jack’s neck and burying his face into his chest.

Jack instinctively wrapped his arm around the ghost as he finished coughing.

Maddie, again, was stunned into silence as the ghost began to shake, audibly crying as he clung to her husband. The man he’d just called dad. Jack seemed likewise confused as he sat up, arms still wrapped around the crying ghost, looking to her in bewilderment.

“You’re okay!” Phantom said, clenching the fabric of Jack’s suit into his fists as he further burrowed into Jack.

“Uh, thanks, Phantom?” Jack said unsurely.

At Jack’s words, Phantom tensed and jumped away, hovering over the water. “Oh, haha, no problem, citizen!” He said, saluting at them.

“Phantom…” Jack started, standing and reaching for him.

“Oh, uh, would you two like a lift up?” Phantom asked, pulling nervously at his hands.

Maddie had always thought that gesture looked somewhat familiar and suddenly she could place why it was familiar.

“Danny?” She asked.

Phantom - Danny Phantom - went rigid. “Uh, haha, yeah, that’s my first name, everyone knows that.”

“Danno.” Jack said, holding his hand out towards the ghost.

Danny just eyed it warily and a knife twisted in her heart. He was afraid of them.

Danny’s accident had been worse than he’d told them, hadn’t it? He’d died long enough to make a ghost. She wondered how weird that must be, her son seeing his own ghost flying around town.

…seeing his ghost be shot by their parents.

Phantom floated a little closer, stopping just out of reach. His eyes flicked between the two of them and the next time he spoke, it was with fear and hope in his voice. “Mom? Dad?”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Down Among the Dead Men

Bones in the Ocean Masterlist

CW: Captivity, creepy whumper, abusive parent, magical whump talk

-

Kira wore her body like a suit of armor beneath the old-fashioned dress she had been laced into. 

She could have made a point, she supposed, by refusing to perform the spell. Refusing to give Lord Wentworth the prettied-up face he was planning to make his son’s wife - but really his own, unless she did what he wanted and remade the marks holding the siren in unending bondage. 

The thought sent a chill down her spine, made bile rise in her throat.

She could have gone down the stairs in too-tight shoes, with her dress hanging wrongly off flat narrow hips and wrinkling over the missing bust it had been designed to politely emphasize,  yet clinging too tight to wider shoulders. She could have sat hunched over and tipped her head so the light always hit just so along the angular jaw she had unwillingly grown into and its hint of five o’clock shadow. 

She could have handed him all the harsher angles of masculinity she loathed and had worked so hard to learn how to undo every morning… but then she would not have gone down the stairs and towards the dining room feeling wholly herself. 

She would have felt off-balance, and losing your balance in a fight meant a knife to your throat before you ever raised your sword. She knew that much. 

She would not let Guilford Wentworth take away whatever advantage she had, and she certainly would not hand it over herself. Moving through the world in the body she wanted, the body that felt like hers, was the most important way she had protected herself in life. She needed that protection now.

Guilford Wentworth could stare all he wanted. His eyes could get no deeper than skin. 

Not yet.

Not ever, she reminded herself, as nausea flipped and twisted, wiping away her hunger. Don’t let ‘yet’ be a word in your mind. Let it be not ever. 

Kira Losna straightened her shoulders and spine, lifted her chin, and performed the spell. The intricate gestures that the spell required had been something she’d deciphered all on her own, and unlike nearly every other spell, she’d never had to use the paint to create it. She had always assumed it was because no one else had needed it as badly as she did, or maybe flattered herself with the idea that she was uniquely talented, but now… now, she wondered.

Was this wild magic? This shifting of shape, easing angles and encouraging curves?  

Wild magic, the siren had called melting the fork in anger. Wild magic had been what he named the sense of heat in her palms that scorched the wall. Wild magic was the sort wielded by the children of gods, like the sirens who guarded oceans, dryads in the sprawling tai forests and the drendu in the rivers, the lumbering trolls in caves, the pahlomar in the thin air of the mountains to the far south… the children of the gods. Not… humans, whose magic has been stolen painstakingly through centuries of learning just the right symbols to pull its threads from the world around them. Wild magic was a power whose roots went deeper than trees and twisted through the currents of rivers, spread with the mycelium of fungi, spanned the huge breadth of the grand oceans and sang to the moon with wolves. Wild magic had been the siren’s birthright. The painted runes on the siren’s skin had twisted and corrupted that power from its natural state and made into a weapon in Guilford Wentworth’s hands.

Kira had never heard of such a thing before - and her heart went cold with horror any time she let herself think too long about how quickly men would leap upon the chance to take their own wild magic, if they knew it could be done. Humans had only what they could take, the inherent magic in them was so slight and faded it could do little more than warm a cup of coffee.

Then again, Kira had changed her body to suit her mind.

No one else had ever been able to do that, either.

Still, she was only human. Whatever strange magic Kira had must be something else. It was only that the siren knew only the one kind and couldn’t see beyond it. There were no humans with wild magic. 

Were there? 

Through all these thoughts, the servant girl Nadette had laced her up as if utterly unaware of her distraction. Nadette ignored how her hips suddenly curved out beneath her skirts, her bust filled the fabric, and acted as if she never saw the way Kira’s jaw softened. Maybe she had been spelled not to notice them by the siren on Lord Wentworth’s command. Or… maybe she was simply kind enough to see Kira as she was, not as birth had mistakenly formed her. 

Instead, Nadette had been chatty, rambling with excitement about a new horse in the stables, a purebred that was all long lines and impressive speed. Bit of a bastard to handle, but the stableboy had him well in hand. “Lord Wentworth likes his horses spirited,” Nadette said brightly, finishing the laces carefully, ensuring Kira could still breathe well and deeply. “He likes them to be fighters.”

“Oh, does he?” Kira heard herself answer, her voice wobbling a little. Her thoughts raced ahead in time, threatening to drag her down. 

“Oh, yes.” Nadette hummed, helping to pull the longer-sleeved overdress up, lightly belted at Kira’s narrow waist. It was all so… fussy. But Kira had to admit that it seemed somewhat difficult to stab someone through all these layers of boning and heavy fabric. “His lordship always says that if they don't fight back, then it's hardly worth the breaking of them. It is a harsh way to see them, I know, but his horses do all go on to win the races…”

Some part of Kira wanted to bark out harsh laughter, but she held it inside, staring at herself in the mirror. “That does sound like him,” She replied, her voice trembling with suppressed hysterical humor. 

Nadette pulled her hair back and away from her face, caught with a ribbon that tried more or less in vain to contain the weight and wildness of it. Kira could only wish her the best.

Nadette stepped back, giving her a careful look up and down, and then smiled. “I think you’re ready. Should we go downstairs, Miss Losna? I believe the young men are already in the study waiting.”

Kira paused, turning to look at Nadette with her eyebrows slightly raised. “What? Young men?”

“Why, yes. Master Ford, of course-”

“Of course. Yes, I knew him, but who else? That b-... Lord Wentworth is not what I would call young…”

Nadette laughed. “Oh, he would not like to hear you say it so honestly! Indeed, Master Ford brought a friend over.” Nadette gave her an impish, winsome little smile. “Likely hoping to have someone close to take the measure of you, ma’am. One always hopes that one’s friends will get along well enough with their intended.” 

The Ford she had met, by turns sullen and beseeching, seemed like he didn’t have a friend in the world. Kira tried to school her face, but wondered what other monsters she would have to meet here. What sort of friend Ford had who could be allowed to know what was being done here. What sort of evil person could be trusted to know she was held here against her will and still dine in style with Guilford Wentworth and his unwilling son?

“Of course,” She said, schooling voice and expression both into stillness. “Let’s go.”

Nadette fell in behind her as she stepped out into the hallway, walking past walls lined in paintings from over the past two centuries. Kira had to admit Guilford Wentworth was a slimy wretch who had an excellent eye for art. It was all beautiful. Landscapes of babbling brooks, mountains jutting harsh against the plain blue sky, children playing in rolling meadows and wheat fields seemed to blend all together with the occasional painting of a god’s child lingering in the shadows of its environment. 

One of the dead wives was in a painting, and she paused briefly to look. The wife and the woman beside her had very different expressions as they sat for the painting, watching a young girl on the floor. Eliza, Kira thought - that one was Eliza, the first wife Guilford had taken for himself by magic, smiling with a dreamy, far-away look that seemed not to see the beautifully decorated drawing room around her, or even her own child. Beside her, the other woman. Her expression was darker, sharper, seeing clearly. Atabei, Kira reminded herself. Her name had been Atabei, the first magician to give him the siren. 

“Will there-” Kira’s voice caught briefly in her throat, captured wholly by the look of something like the animal in a cage in Atabei’s face, masterfully writ in oil and brushstroke. “Will there be wine, at dinner, Nadette?”

She needed something to stop her hands from shaking. If there was no wine, she might scream, and scream, and never stop screaming.

Atabei’s eyes seemed to follow her as she moved. A chill down her spine and - she must be imagining it - a whisper of a smell like jessamine flowers from the colonies. 

She would go mad here, surrounded by the women who had gone mad before her. 

If there was no wine-

“I assume so, Miss Losna.” Nadette didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. “Shall I go ahead and pour you some?”

“Please,” Kira whispered, pathetically grateful. Atabei, she thought once again. Atabei, a woman knowing the very make of the bars of her cage but unable to undo the lock. Her future, reflected back at her from two centuries in the past. 

Or perhaps she would be the pretty wife, Eliza with her dreamy far-away smile, her mind undone by the stroke of a brush and the siren’s song.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the wineglass as Nadette poured the deep red liquid into it. Her heart tried to race itself around her chest, and the world threatened ominously to spin.

Kira steadied herself as best she could and drained the cup in a few short gulps. She drank so much so fast she had to wipe drops from the corner of her mouth before they could run and stain her dress, bloodied tears.

“Thank you,” She said, hoarsely, and held the emptied glass out. “Another, please.”

Nadette paused, with the stem of the glass held carefully in her fingertips. Her eyebrows delicately raised in surprise. “Miss Losna…?”

“Please, Nadette.” She swallowed, her mouth already tacky with the overdone fruit-flavor, the wine too sweet, too heavy. But it was wine all the same. “Please.”

“... Yes, Miss Losna. Of course.” Nadette frowned, laying a hand on her arm. “Miss Losna, are you-”

She stopped.

Kira had looked away, unable to bear it if the pretty servant girl judged her for needing the courage wine could give. But now she looked back, and gods help them all… she saw as the contented fog that seemed to always cloud over Nadette’s eyes seemed to clear. “... Miss Losna-... Oh, oh no.” Nadette pulled back, eyes suddenly so wide Kira could see the white ringing them all around. Tears set them to glimmering like marbles with a spike of terror. “Oh-” Her voice was air, and then she grabbed back onto Kira’s arm with both hands, this time so tightly her fingernails pressed divots into Kira’s sleeves and the skin beneath. “Miss Losna, I-... I don’t want to be here-” 

Hope bloomed in Kira, as painful and deadly as any blade through the ribs. 

“I know,” She soothed, moving to peel back Nadette’s fingers one by one. “I know, it is the siren’s song, the magic. I know. The magic is fading, but it will take you over again soon. If you could just do one thing for me-”

Nadette didn’t quite seem to hear her. “I remember, Miss, I remember… it’s not a sea serpent at all! It’s-”

“I know!” Her voice was louder than she meant it to be, and Kira winced, pitching her voice to just above a whisper again. Warmth was in her cheeks and shoulders, the wine or the possibility of some escape from this beautiful hell. “I know,” She said again. “I know what he is. But listen, you must listen to me while you can hear me clearly, Nadette. Can you hear me clearly?”

Nadette swallowed, blinking back her tears. “I-... yes, Miss, I can hear you.” Her voice was thin and trembling, but her chin raised up, and Kira could have kissed her for that steel courage she showed beneath the fear that must feel all-encompassing.

“Wonderful. Listen to me closely. Go upstairs,” Kira whispered, her eyes flickering away towards the dining room, then back to the servant’s growing horrified comprehension. “Find me a window with no bars, one I can climb out of. Let me know which window it is. Write it down and put it under my pillow. I can fix this, I can free us all, but only with my tools and he has taken those from me and he will force me to remake the magic strong again. If I am not here, if I escape, he cannot do that and it will fade away and you will all be free. Find me a way out. Go, Nadette, please!”

Nadette did not move at first, only stood there. In a face that had gone ashen pale and a little green, two red spots glowed along her cheekbones. How long this break in the spell would last, Kira couldn’t begin to know. There was no time for Nadette’s terror. “You’ll leave? But-”

“Find the window! Go!” Kira grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back towards the stairway, and watched the girl take her skirts up in one hand and run. 

Please, whoever may hear me when I pray, let the clarity last long enough.

She shouldn’t have turned her back on the door to the dining room. She felt his eyes on her before he even spoke, the slimy bastard. At least he would not surprise her. She was still struggling to get her breath under control, one hand over her stomach, when she felt the weight of his gaze.

“Miss Losna.” She could see a slick of oil on an ocean surface in his voice, hear it in the lilt of his falsely lordly accent. “Where is Nadette?”

Kira raised her chin and turned around, forcing her voice into a perfect calmness even as her heart raced too fast, left her dizzy for lack of air, her mouth tacky with the aftertaste of that terrible wine. “I sent her back to my room to bring me my book,” She lied, and somehow - thank the gods she believed in and the ones she didn’t - her voice was steady, even, and strong. “As I don’t intend to be much of a conversationalist, and whatever prisoner you kept before me was quite the reader.”

Guilford hummed, seemingly offended, and offered her his arm. Kira stared at it, then swept past him.

One thing to say about the heavy skirts, they absolutely made it easy to hold up your chin and feel as powerful as any queen as a man had to step out of your path to avoid being simply bowled over by their volume. Kira felt every bit of her womanhood, inside and out.

When she stepped into the dining room, Ford - seated facing her and with a glass of something that was very much not wine in his hand - pushed himself to his feet with a scrape of his chair, inclining his chin and leaning slightly forward. It wasn’t a bow, but it wasn’t not a bow either. “Miss Losna. You look lovely tonight.”

His voice was slightly slurred already with drink.

She envied him.

Seated just to the right of the head of the table was-

The siren.

Ah.

Ford’s friend. Just another spell, another bit of magic to hide from the servants what it was that truly gave Guilford Wentworth his power and influence. 

The siren was slightly slumped in his seat, insolent hostility in his expression, although some of it faded as he looked up at her. He didn’t stand, or fake a bow. He didn’t even speak. All he did was look at her.

And yet it felt far warmer than Ford’s practiced manners.

“Good evening to you both,” She said, moving quickly so that Wentworth, who had come up behind her, had no reason to touch her to try and get her to move further into the room. She chose a chair and sat, graceless but it was worth it to catch a glimpse of Wentworth’s hand hovering, having expected to push her in and having lost his chance.

She saw something cold in his face. It was there and then gone, replaced by genial good humor, but Kira knew that look very, very well in certain men and women with ideas of what belonged to them. She was a toy not playing by his rules, and that could be a very dangerous kind of toy to be. 

So she took a deep breath, until she felt the reassuring stability of the boning in her corset against her ribs - the strong lacing keeping her back upright. “What is being served tonight?” She asked, simply to break the silence.

“Mmmn, roast pork I believe,” Ford responded. His eyes were more than a little glassy, and she wondered when he’d begun drinking. Or if he ever really stopped. He was younger than Kira, he shouldn’t be living in his cups like this.

Except maybe that was his only way of surviving in this house. 

Babbage came in, alongside two more servants whose names Kira hadn’t yet learned. All of them wore the same sweet, soft, fogged-over smiles that Eliza had worn in the painting of her. Before them all was settled a small bowl of a vibrant green puree with a spiral of white, lightly steaming. Kira could smell something garden-fresh. 

“Spring pea soup,” Babbage announced. “With fresh cream.”

“Lovely,” Wentworth said, in the most genuine tone she’d heard him take yet. Kira, moving on pure thoughtless instinct, picked up her spoon, letting the green just touch the tip of the metal. Ford and Guilford picked their own spoons up as soon as she did and began sipping, Guilford humming happily and Ford clearly trying to sneak as many drinks from his glass as he could between bites of soup. 

The siren stared at his bowl as if it might grow three heads and bite him. 

She had to admit, once she gave in and lifted the spoon fully to her mouth, that the spring pea soup was indeed delicious.

Clearly, a very good cook indeed had been spelled into serving Guilford in his mansion. 

“What do you think, Miss Losna?” Ford spoke formally, but there was a hint of a lazy smile on him. Being in the same room as his father hadn’t quite undone him. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” She said, refusing to look at Wentworth, knowing she’d see only the smug arrogance on him now. “It’s very good. How can you grow these? It is out of season for them.”

“Oh, we keep greenhouses so I may have the best whenever I want it.”

“... Of course. Well, it is delicious. I must have the recipe for when I head back to my home.”

Guilford Wentworth laughed. Ford’s hint of a smile faded and he looked down and away. Kira found herself idly wondering what Ford was like when his father’s gaze wasn’t on him, when he wasn’t in this house, this monument to Guilford Wentworth’s hold on a magic he should never have been able to touch.

“And so you shall,” Guilford announced cheerfully. “Once our business is concluded, of course, hm? And you?” He turned back to the siren. “Take a bite, Areyto.”

Areyto didn’t look at Wentworth at all - he was looking at Kira, openly and without a gentleman’s knowledge to keep his stare less than direct. He shifted uncomfortably even in the simple, loose shirt he was wearing, one hand twisting idly as the fabric on his other sleeve, picking at it with blunt nails she knew could just as quickly be vicious, sharp claws. His hand moved and picked up the spoon, pooled some liquid in it, brought it to his mouth. Kira watched him fight back a heave when he sipped. The spoon dropped back to the plate, splatters of green droplets across the soft pale white.

“Well,” Guilford said, playfully chiding. “That was quite rude, don’t you think?”

Areyto’s gaze darkened. “I do not eat your soups,” He said, something very like a growl underneath the human words. “Your food. You know that.”

Kira cleared her throat, leaning forward. “Lord Wentworth, may I ask-”

Wentworth’s expression had chilled at the siren’s insolence, but it warmed once he looked back at her, not quite leering. “Anything, my dear.”

She shuddered, and fought down her disgust. “I mean only to ask… what does-... he eat? If he doesn’t eat what you do?”

“Him?” Wentworth smiled. “Oh, we keep a pond well-stocked in the labyrinth. I’ve taken to calling it after one of my sons, who unfortunately drowned in it one night. Dreft Pond. It’s the word for three in the language they speak in Lahssa. His lovely wife had been born there, she called him Dreft as a bit of a pet name, I think. He had taken such a risk, night swimming alone… no one to hear you when you drown-”

There was a clang of metal against ceramic.

Kira jumped, and she and Guilford turned to see Ford looking wide-eyed not with fear, but with a fury that seemed to overtake him all at once. “How dare you,” He hissed.

Wentworth’s eyebrows raised. “I beg your pardon?”

“How dare you make light of what happened to him! How dare you mock my father right here in front of me!” Ford pushed his chair back and shoved himself to his face. “My father was a good swimmer, he knew never to swim alone at night, he knew!”

Guilford was a shark smelling blood. His eyes were gone from Kira in a flash, and entirely on Ford. He was playing at a father’s righteous anger but the smirk on his face gave away how much he enjoyed the excuse. “This is unbecoming. Sit, boy.”

“I am not a boy! I am a grown man, and I will not stand for your slander against one who cannot defend himself now!” Ford stayed standing, hands on the tabletop, glaring daggers at Lord Wentworth with a strength Kira hadn’t known he possessed. “If you want my good manners and my kneeling and my bullshit lies to match yours, then don’t talk about my father like that! He was a good man! He tried so hard to be a good man! And you-... you-”

“I said,” Guilford said, voice low and menacing now, ”Sit down. You will not be so rude before our guest. You will not spread such gossip. I am your father.”

“You’re not! You never were!” Ford’s words were less speech than a wail of anger, drawn out by the drink but fueled by a hatred that Kira couldn’t take her eyes off of. It burned in him like summer wildfires, all out of control, leaving only skeletons and ash behind. He picked up the glass, nearly emptied, he’d been drinking from, and threw it.

Guilford had to jerk his head to the side to avoid it - even drunk, Kira noted with admiration, Ford had wonderful aim - and it hit the wall behind him and shattered, liquid dripping down towards the floor.

“Ford!” Guilford’s voice was a roar, now, shocked out of his arrogant amusement. He stood also. Kira stayed seated, her heart racing, and looked at the siren for help.

He watched the two men, too, but without fear. Only with the expression of someone who had watched something like this before, over and over again, and knows how it will end. 

Ford jabbed his finger in the air as if it were a sword. “You are not my father! You are the man who killed my father! He was your son! He, who you ordered to go into the water! Who you commanded your creature to feed on!”

Wentworth blinked. He went still. “What? How did you know-”

Ford laughed, hysterical and humorless. “You may have taken our mother’s memories of her husband, but you didn’t bother to take anything from Nathalie and I, did you? Didn’t even think of us as people who needed to be fooled!”

Wentworth was dumbfounded.

Kira found she enjoyed that very much.

Ford wasn’t done, though. He stalked down the length of the table until he stood only inches from Wentworth, on the other side of the siren’s chair, as if they kept the poor thing between them. “Tell me, are his bones still in the water? Are they? Did you command the siren to eat off all his skin, or was any left for the carrion feeders? Did my sister and I go to visit our father’s grave every time you told us to go and feed the fish? Did you think it was funny to have us do it? Did you laugh to see she and I at the very place where you murdered him?!”

Guilford swallowed, once. Twice. He seemed to be having some difficulty. “You will calm yourself-”

“No, I will not! I saw it all, you bastard.” Ford’s teeth were bared, as if he echoed the siren’s own anger even without the teeth to make the expression much of a threat. The siren, where he sat between them, looked… bored. But Ford’s finger was poking in the air again. “You, you ordered my mother to never remember her great love but you cared so little for my sister and I, you-... how dare you call me your son when you want to use me as you once used him!” 

Wentworth stepped closer, and - with the siren still sitting down in his chair between the two men - slapped his son across the face with a crack that echoed through the room, harsh as thunder. Kira half expected it to rattle the windows.

The blow sent Ford sideways onto the tabletop, slamming into it so hard he seemed stunned, plates and wineglasses rattling. Kira’s wine spilled across the white tablecloth with a bloody stain, and Areyto’s soup spilled over the side of the bowl. Ford was breathing harshly as he pushed himself back up. His sleeve was soaking wet now from the spilled water, one side of his face nearly scarlet from the force with which Wentworth had hit him. He took in a breath. 

“Oh,” Ford whispered. “I… I apologize. My outburst was… uncalled for.”

“You damn well should,” Wentworth said, voice low. Kira’s heart pounded so hard she could barely breathe. 

“I… I shall take my leave,” Ford said in a strangled voice after a silence. “En-enjoy your dinner, Miss Losna. I-... I will tell Babbage I will finish in my room-”

“You will do no such thing,” Wentworth snapped. “Leave and starve.”

Ford stood, torn between instinctive obedience and whatever had propelled him to the fit of defiance in the first place. “I-”

“Get out of I shall have Areyto tell you to leave.”

Ford’s eyes went to the siren, who looked back at him impassively. Then he turned on his heel and stumbled from the room, hardly able to walk straight. Barely able to stand. Kira watched him go, and felt a wild, irrational urge to beg him not to leave her alone in here.

Not that he had much of a choice.

Even fewer choices than Kira herself had, really.

Something in Kira’s hint of hope faded as she watched Ford’s back disappear through the dining room doors and heard his shuffling, stumbling feet on the stairs.

“Disgraceful,” Wentworth muttered. “Absolutely disgraceful.” He seemed to come to some inner decision and sat back down, shaking his head as if shaking water from his ears. “He will regret that, later. Now.” He clapped his hands, one bright sound, and the door to the kitchens swung openly immediately and the three servants reappeared, nervously looking from one of them to another. “My son has chosen to leave early,” Wentworth said with false cheer. “Please clean up this mess and bring the next course, Babbage.”

“Of course, sir,” Babbage said, voice low, his eyes traveling over the debris on the table without comment. 

Areyto alone looked wholly unmoved.

There was a long pause that drew out heavy as they waited for the dirtied things to be cleared and clean ones to replace them. The next course was set down, a bit of bread with a white cheese spread atop it, slices of tomato and basil on the side and a drizzle of something dark, sweet and sour. Kira’s pounding heart had taken all the room from her stomach. 

Just as she thought she might scream just to break the silence, Guilford’s smile was back, as if nothing had ever happened. “Well, Miss Losna, you must tell me how the weather has been lately in your own hometown.”

Kira stared at him, her mind suddenly empty of everything but a confused screeching. “... what? The-... the weather? You want to talk about the weather?”

“The weather,” Guilford said brightly, “Or your upcoming wedding. You choose.”

A beat passed.

Then Kira exhaled, slowly. 

“... The weather has been a little too warm this year…”

She had to find a way out of here, and soon.

-

Taglist: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp  @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes  @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10   @apokolyps  @wildfaewhump  @shrimpwritings  @there-will-always-be-blood @latenightcupsofcoffee  @angelsproject

[xxnashiraxx]

With Stars to Fill My Dream (6) - My Thoughts You Can't Decode

I have been looking forward to this chapter for so long!!! I'm so excited to share this one with you all- I worked hard, and I think it shows, and I hope it's good! 💖 Please let me know your thoughts, and have a wonderful night! 🦇

FYI- This story will be going on a 2-week hiatus as I'm going to the east coast of the US for vacation!! Please look forward to Sunday, September 8th for Chapter 7!! 🖤

Summary: A street-smart, musically inclined human girl with a tragic past gets abducted by a nautiloid after her painfully average shift at a retro singing diner. What's worse- putting your all into Olivia Newton-John and Travolta for lousy tips, or getting your guts ripped out by a gnoll? Or worse- getting turned into a hideous humanoid squid? Ofelia Montez will have to see if she can survive long enough to find out.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Mentions of past abuse and trauma. Canon-typical violence and gore.

Word Count: 7,184

Please enjoy some screenshots below as well as the opening under the cut! 🖤

“Ugh, what is it that you’re furiously scribbling down?” Astarion asks, folding his legs over his lap as Ofelia hunches over that journal she’d shown them the first night. She flicks her eyes up at him and he tenses.

That’s right. She’d seen a little too much today- ever since the boar she’s been distancing herself from him. It’s slight but still noticeable, and he needs to get close again or else he may lose her…

“I’m drawing,” She murmurs, uncrossing her legs to stretch and hold the book against her thigh. They sit near the fringes of camp, Gale beginning to prepare for dinner as the others set up tents and wind down for the day.

“What is it you’re drawing?” Ofelia perks up, and he mentally breathes a sigh of relief that she seems to want to engage with him again.

“I like to journal, and when I’m done I’ll fill the spaces around the page with things I’ve seen that day. Here look,” She scoots over to him and he stiffens in her presence as she thumbs through it. His eyes track over the wizard’s face, Shadowheart’s, Lae’zel’s, and even Wyll’s. There’s another form on the opposite page beside her messy penmanship, and instead of a bust, it’s the entire figure. The angles are sharp, broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs. The more time he spends looking, the realization begins to dawn on him who she’s drawn, and the ruby irises glare back at him disapprovingly.

“Oh,” He murmurs, regretfully watching her flip the page to a warg, a goblin, and Withers. There are a few spaces where she’s filled them with just eyes, more of them red than any of the others. He sees birds, the tiefling man- he snorts- depictions of the moon and different weapons. They’re impressive for just sketches, and she turns to another page where she’s been focusing on each of their heads. His breathing goes still when she shows him his.

“Sorry if it’s a little strange, I usually draw from memory or references, so I’ve been going with what’s around me, hence sketching you all.” Her smile is sheepish and fragile and he nods, not paying too close attention.

He reaches up to touch his lips- are they really that plush? Are his brows that full? Are his ears really that long, or is she exaggerating? And the dot on his cheek- there’s no way he has blemishes. What’s she playing at?

He smiles softly, covering up the warble in his voice with a slight laugh.

“Darling, my ears aren’t that big.” She chuckles.

“They’re pretty big, trust me,”

[f10werfae]

Sy, I am Backup

pairing: Captain Syverson x Girlfriend!Sniper!Reader

summary: Reader is like a total badass super deadly sniper and she leads like a badass group of women who are also deadly soldiers. Anyways the ladies are called in to help rescue Sy and his team? (requested by @stormcloudss )

Warnings: Gun Violence

requests are open/ likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Cavill Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You sure you’ll be okay baby? You know the girls and I are always on call to help?” Y/n said helping pack her boyfriend Sy’s backpack for his next mission at his recent position, commander. “I know sugar, but i’d rather not put you into danger, ya know this” Sy huffed throwing on his boots before hotly kissing his woman goodbye and off he went.

Y/n L/n, wasn’t the most innocent, with her being head of the sniping division, she had quite the talent herself. In fact that’s how Sy and her met, they were put into the same training group at the deployment centre, and voila. Sy couldn’t help but find himself drawn to this amazing woman, not only was she able to carry herself, but Sy as well (Literally)

Now 7 months down the line the two had moved in together and were finally getting serious, until the dreaded call came. They needed Sy out there again, luckily it was only a short drive and a smaller scale task, but still all the more dangerous. Even though Sy was mean and scary to others, to Y/n he was nothing but her big baby that asked to share showers, kisses and cuddles on the daily.

“Ok I don’t have a good feeling about this” Y/n whispered to herself and calling up her fellow girls on their groupchat, watching as Sy’s truck pulled off and out of their home’s driveway. Rifling through her old gear, Y/n got out her old suit and equipment with the phone stuck between her ear and shoulder.

Steph: God did I think we would never talk again, Miss L/n

Y/n: Come on now Steph, it’s only been two months

Grace: Did commander send us a task or something?

Y/n: No but he sent Sy’s team one, a drug bust, which is unusual because how violent could it get for soldiers to be there

Sophie: Jesus there must be bombs or something, there’s no way it’s just a drug bust

Y/n: That’s what i’m sayin! Which is why I think we need to get ready girls-

Stephanie: Woah woah owah, ready for what?

Y/n: Look, all of our men are on that squad, and we know damn well their general is going to hound us for backup

Grace: She’s got a point, we are the most experienced snipers around the place

Stephanie: I can’t believe i’m actually agreeing to this, meet y’all at L/n’s place in 15

Sophie: Omg the gang is back together

Within a half hour, all four girls were stood in the living room, strapped into their camo gear. Hairs in ponytails, heavy duty boots in tow and let’s not forget them reloading their customised weapons of war. Each different sniper sporting a different colour, each representing each woman’s aura. Y/n’s was a strong deep red, you can guess the reasoning for that.

“So what do we just wait here or something? How do we even know they’ll need us, there’s like 6 of them” Grace asked setting down her green sniper and sitting down onto the velvet white couch.

“Because of this” Y/n rushed out showing them the newest message from their commander

General L/n, assistance is needed at (insert address) Be prepared for situations 302 and 105. Mild casualties reported, enter from the side and take position. You know what to do.

“302? That means mild explosives does it not” Sophie asked looking at the phone herself, her hand reaching for her purple sniper, her fingertips tingling with anticipation and exhilaration.

“Yeah and 105, means outnumbered. Holy shit girls, we got ourselves a good one” Grace shouted getting up, the rest of them following her out of the house and into the one van they were going to use.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Reaching the destination which seemed to be a dingy old warehouse, the girls got a glimpse of the amount of men walking in and out of the building, not their own men of course. Slinging on their extra ammo and their snipers, the girls found a wide enough pipe system for them to climb up skilfully. Y/n the first one to end up onto the roof, found herself a nice little spot with an opening straight into the warehouse. Setting up her stand and sniper, peeked into her scope and saw Sy’s squad.

Oh my were they outnumbered, they were practically surrounded, all of them tied up and some were clearly bleeding out. Just how strong were these other men? I mean granted there must be 100 of them, but wow.

Y/n felt her breath hitch when she saw her man, Sy, sitting dejectedly against a pile of cardboard boxes. His face still as brave as ever, but this time sporting more than a few cuts with blood running down his face. Y/n was going to kill these sons of bitches even if it was the last thing she did.

Looking up around the roof, Y/n saw that the other three girls were also raging, all of them nodding at each other before focusing down at their targets. Y/n found her first shot, a bald man who was tattooed all over, he seemed to be the one giving the orders.

Counting down under her breath

“3, 2, 1” And the trigger went off, the bullet embedding itself into the man’s head, instantly knocking him into the ground.

“Gotcha asshole” Y/n whispered loading up her next bullet, hearing all the men down below go into chaos at who shot their boss, the other three girls taking down what was assumed to be his right hand men. Leaving only the pawns of this vigilante group, when all of a sudden, Grace found herself making eye contact with one of the men, his smirk revealing golden teeth and a horrid face.

“Shit shit shit, i’ve been spotted, we gotta go now!” Grace shouted slinging back on her gun and running to the other girls, everyone hearing the men shouting up the side of the compound before they felt the shaking of the pipe system. Their only way down.

“Ok fuck uh- we gotta jump” Y/n rushed out looking over the hole she was spying on, noticing the high stack of cardboard boxes that could break their fall.

“Ok L/n even if we jump, we have to somehow get six injured men into a van, how does that work?”

“Let me take care of that, you guys jump and get them all into the van. If i’m not there in 10 minutes, leave without me yeah?” Y/n said stepping away from the hole and putting the other girls forward towards it.

“The fuck do you mean? Sy will kill us if anything happens to you, plus we can’t just leave you. No man left behind” Steph shouted

“Look, I won’t be left behind if this fucking works ok?! Now just go!” Y/n shouted, seeing the three girls salute to her before each taking their turn to jump onto the boxes, when all of a sudden Y/n heard the sound of metal behind her. They were here.

“Well, it’s just a little lady, musta got lost?” The front man said, twirling a pistol in his hands,

Within seconds Y/n had aimed her sniper and had shot the man full force sending him off the edge of the building, “Bring it on you filthy fuckers” She shouted loading in another round and going to town at the men in front of her, whilst running about trying to dodger bullets

- -

Grace, Sophie and Steph despite hurting their feet in the landing had now found themselves alone with their soldiers, untying them rapidly until a gruff hand pulled Sophie’s, “Where’s Y/n? I know she’s in your division. Agent L/n” Sy asked desperately limping, Sophie couldn’t help but stay quiet and instead looking towards the ceiling where they heard a loud cry say “OW FUCK SAKE” A woman’s cry.

- -

Y/n had near wiped them out, leaving one man behind to step over the bodies of his comrades. Realising she had no more bullets left, the man smiled at the sound of the empty gun, aiming his gun towards her leg before shooting it, immediately sending her to the ground, “OW FUCK SAKE” Clutching onto her leg Y/n growled and groaned, watching the man step closer towards her, a victorious look on his face.

“Looks like you’re down sweetheart, how unfortunate, women are always pathetic” He spat laughing at her, walking back towards the pipe system, leaving her to lay there in agony.

“Not yet” Y/n groaned pulling the key out of the hand grenade she was wearing with her teeth, and throwing it as hard as she could towards him as he bent down to climb

- -

“I need to go back for Y/n, you fuckers don’t understand-“

“No trust me we didn’t want to leave her either, but her orders were to get you guys into the van and wait ten minutes” Grace said guarding the back of the van which held the 6 grateful men, thankfully all of them only having mild injuries ranging from dislocations to cuts

*BOOM*

Shattering their conversation, everyone watched as a man's body blew up mid air, parts of the building edge being blown up to pieces. Everyone going silent at the thoughts in their heads,

"get the fuck out of my way or i'll make you" Sy growled, Grace immediately sighing and letting him step out, his now bandaged leg giving him the ability to somehow walk strongly. Sy groaned as he pulled himself up the pipe system, his heartbeat pounding in his ears at the fear of what's happened to his beloved girlfriend. His first love as well as that.

Relief filling him as he looked over the edge and saw a very much conscious and in pain

Y/n, who still had that same smirk on her face, “Told you I was here for backup baby” She shouted watching him shake his head and walk over to her,

“Don’t you ever fucking do that again, ya hear me?” Smashing his lips onto hers as if she would disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough, that’s how he felt.

(A few weeks later)

“Baby can I have a chocolate bar please” Y/n shouted from the living room, her casted leg set up on the couch, with Aika licking at her exposed toes.

“Comin’ right up honey” Sy said walking into the kitchen before settling beside her, her head falling on his chest with his arms wrapped around her shoulder.

“So about our next mission-“

“Shut it sugar, we’re not going anywhere anymore, not after that last scenario. We are done baby”

“What do you mean done? We can’t just quit?” Y/n questioned looking up at him confused, his lips pressing soft kisses to her temple and cheeks

“Of course not, but parental leave is a thing i’m sure we could get” He shrugged smirking down at her, taking a swig of his beer before taking a deep inhale in her neck, smelling her sweet peachy scent that he oh loved so much. A bit too much actually.

“But we aren’t parents Sy- Wait- HOLD ON-“

——-

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @thereisa8ella @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @fdl305 @uwiuwi @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @kimhtoo17 @pandaxnienke

[kusagrasskusa]

An Eye for an Eye, ‘Til the World goes Blind

Chapter 1 - A Man in the Window

Intro, Cha1, Cha2, Cha3, Cha4, (Next chapters since it takes too long to link everything lol)

Let me know if this chapter is too long or boring! I can always make revisions <3

Ao3- AnotherBloodyMaryOnACross, Wattpad- Red_Scarfed_Person

Summary: Y/N learns of the fourth family to have been murdered in the LadyLane Massacres- a series of murders taken place in their town, starting with the Ramirez family in LadyLane. Later she hitched a ride from her older brother Mateo who works as a detective to solve the case. He takes her home before she continued her work on the case, before suddenly noticing a similarity between the girls of each case and herself. It was then she saw something in her window that seemed to morph into its own shape.

“Pinche… Oye, hermanita!” Mateo’s scrunched-up face softened as he saw her, cursing in Spanish before calling for his little sister. Y/N stepped out of the police vehicle as it halted, smiling and waving as she dusted off her skirt.

“I'm finally here, how’s everything?” She asked with a look of concern, quickly running over in her clicking heels. Police cars and ambulances surrounded the house of a supposedly safe neighborhood, where crime seldom happens- but it seems this family of five just wasn’t so lucky.

“We don’t know what happened. But whoever did this obviously was responsible for the last three families that were like this,” Mateo huffed, flicking his cigarette ashes on the road as he looked at the lovely, two-story house, “each person was brutally murdered. There’s nothing we've been able to pick up on in any of these cases, but each time the same weapons are used. Other than that, they’re good at covering their asses like always.” Y/N nodded, pouting her lip. Two happily married parents and three children were the victims of today’s killing. Tragic.

A tall man in a police uniform walked over, clearly out of breath as he spoke, “Nice seeing you, Miss L/N. Y’know, we really shouldn’t be letting you see this until you’re officially a part of the team, but these have been getting too frequent. This is the fourth family to end up like this, and the media and family have been looking at us an awful lot for information. Callin’ it the LadyLane Massacres, and we ain’t got a single damn answer for it all.” Chief Manchester shook her head as other cops and detectives walked around the premises. Wrinkles on his forehead, dark spots under his eyes- these recent killings have caused this stress on many of the faces here. “But, eh, you’re pretty good at finding things. And we need all the help we can get,” the Chief continued.

“I understand, sir, and I’ll do all I can,” Y/N replied, nodding her head with a look of determination. Moments later, her mouth held open in shock as she looked at the gruesome scene in front of her: the bodies, the blood pools, the blood splattered across almost every surface. The horrified faces plastered on the victim’s bodies, solidifying the pain they faced in their last living moments as they fought for their lives.

“Fucking horrible, innit,” Chief spoke as he put his hands in his front pockets. The daughter was dead in the kitchen, intestines ripped out. A mother died on the stairs, her back ripped open with window shards in her back. The large window above the stairs was busted open- likely how the killers got in, and they got her quickly. Upstairs, the father had his arm behind his back, popped out of socket. He had 3 bullet wounds in the head, and two in the leg. Another daughter had a giant hole in her chest, dead in her room as if an ax of sorts hit her- and finally, the son was dead outside. The broken window of his bedroom indicated he tried to jump out to escape and had that ax plunged into his head before he could reach safety.”

“Okay, well…” Y/N cleared her throat after looking at all the bodies, a sweat building up on her face. “We can deduce that the mother died first. Someone had an ax, or a hatchet, and attacked the girl and the son while someone else went after the dad with a gun. Someone else must have gotten the daughter, and possibly another then went straight for the mother.”

“That’s what we’re thinking,” he explained. “We’ll be extracting the bullet from the father to see if it’s the same used in the other killings. But we know each time, an ax or hatchet had been used along with a knife are the three weapons.”

“I wonder what their intention was,” Y/N mumbled, holding her chin in thought as she turned to look at the dead daughter in the kitchen. “They just busted through the window unexpectedly and killed them. What for?”

“Well, we have a few suspects,” the Chief replied, “but nothing’s for sure. It’s gonna be hard to find someone connected to everyone at once. They must have known where to look before they entered and who their victims were.”

“For sure,” Y/N replied. “To murder entire families, children... It’s gotta be more than just random sprees. This family was connected to either the killers themselves, or with something they wanted to protect…” She trailed off, furrowing her eyebrows as a random white piece of something caught her eye, just barely out of sight. Something was under the table, a foot away from the daughter’s bloody hand. It had a slight glare that caught her eye from her angle.

Y/N crouched down, grabbing the thing carefully on its corners. A little flat, white piece of plastic, slightly curved, and with a little smudge of blood. This must have cracked off of something, given the rounded corners until the ridged side.

“What is it?” the Chief asked, raising a brow and shining his flashlight.

“Let’s get this DNA tested. It’s oddly placed and look, there is a bloody spot,” she spoke with a look of focus, handing it out to a lady who held a bag for evidence.

Y/N always had a talent for justice. Mateo always said it started after they found her in the woods one winter night when she went missing and the police found her deep in the woods. Although they never figured out how she got there, and she never could remember anything she saw, she does remember the police. The ride to the station was full of questions for the officers about their jobs from the two siblings.

Mateo was going to be a detective anyway, and well, it made it easier for Y/N to follow in his footsteps.

“Horrible, isn’t it,” Mateo stated, sighing as he drove away from the scene. Y/N nodded her head, looking out the window and the snowflakes falling from the sky.

“I just wish they’d let me see the full system. I feel stupid when they call me out there and not give me all the information; like how am I going to help ya’ll if you don’t give me anything but an eyesight?” she sighed, resting her head against the cold window. Her E/C eyes shunned as they passed the lit street lamps that brightened the snow patches on the ground. The snow always was a familiar, warm feeling for her.

“Well, it’s sensitive information,” Mateo chuckled. “We don’t want some good-for-nothing delinquent looking at our data.”

“Really, shoplifter?” Y/N giggled, sticking her tongue out. “Don’t think I’ll let you forget about that one time. Dad was not happy, haha.” The two laughed in the car, embarrassment flushing the face of her brother.

“Let’s not bring that up around the other officers, okay?” he chuckled. A moment of peace was shared between them before the low atmosphere of the crime made its quiet return. As they turned into Y/N’s street, Mateo broke the silence. “But… hey, honestly. I’m really thankful to have you here in a few years, joining the force. Dad would be proud of us, y’know, for following in his footsteps.”

“Oh, he really would be, hah hah,” Y/N chuckled softly, looking over at her brother. He looked a lot like his mother- brown skin, dark eyes, dark hair. But he was as tall, strong, and broad as their father. It always was a curious thing for her to notice considering she didn’t know her mother enough to know what resemblance she had. But, what mattered most to her and that she still had the relationship of true siblings despite having different moms.

“Say… I think we’re all very passionate about this case. Y’know, the LadyLane Massacres…” Mateo trailed off as if he wasn’t sure about what he wanted to say next. “And… as long as you keep it a secret between us, I can temporarily lend you my computer to look at police data whenever you need it. I think your help will be vital.”

“Seriously?” Y/N smiled brightly. “Mateo, that means a lot to me, thank you! And don’t worry, the secret will be safe with me, heh heh,” she boosted. “Well, as long as you don’t take all the credit from me.”

“Heh heh, well, with that being said…” he replied, slowly bringing the car to a stop, “get the hell outta my car, woman.”

With the last joke of the night, they hugged before Y/N went back up into her apartment. It was cozy, sorta minimalist due to the lack of money to go all out, but it was home. And the homiest part of her home was the guest bedroom/office, to where she walked straight towards the moment she took off her jacket and shoes. Two hours of investigating at the actual crime scene, and now countless hours investigating the entirety of the LadyLane Massacres as a whole in this little office.

She sat down at the computer desk, humming to herself as she logged into her double monitors. “Sorry hermano,” she said cheerily as she sipped her cup of tea. “I’ve had your info for a very long time already. ‘preciate the help, though.”

A few minutes passed, and finally, she had full access to what her detective brother had on the police databases. Any person jailed or imprisoned could be viewed from her screen, as well as any digital case files assigned to him. For example, the four recent family murders- just what Y/N wanted to see. Pictures of the bodies and faces were uploaded to the databases, as well as details of the crimes and pictures of evidence.

Each murder was done in a similar fashion- giant open gashes on some, indicating the use of a blunt object like an ax or a hatchet. Other bodies had gunshot wounds and/or knife wounds, sometimes with brute force as well. It’s hard to imagine only one person having the capability to use all three weapons to effortlessly kill an entire family in different rooms each time- therefore leading to the speculation there was a minimum of 2 killers. But most, including yours truly, believe there are three or four.

“Interesting…” she mumbled, her eyes reflecting the bright images. The images of bloodied bodies flashed across the screen as she scrolled through last week’s case. A girl about her age popped up with her head nearly decapitated from her neck save for a few more inches of flesh connecting them. Blood soaked her shirt down to the pools of blood that developed around her corpse, her face blue. A girl who looked… very similar to Y/N.

A chill ran down her spine as she made the connection. The H/L, H/C hair, and the dead, whitened E/C eyes of the girl- let alone the face shape. Y/N clicked on another folder of another family related to the LadyLane Massacres. Scrolling through, it was a family of four; the Burninghams. Each of them was shot in the living room, a clean killing save for the daughter.

She died against the wall while the others died on the couch, shot dead. Her hair was seen ripped out and on the floor, showing she was likely pulled away towards the wall. She was shot in the legs, had each finger cut off, but worst of all, an ax or hatchet wound split open her forehead right down the middle. She looked a lot like the last girl.

Y/N squinted her eyes as an uncomfortable feeling washed over her. Another case- the Ramirez family of 4, with a daughter looking the same. That’s when something else in her head clicked: the sons each look similar to Mateo. Not as much resemblance, but there were commonalities with each victim.

“Who are they looking for…?” she mumbled to herself as she flashed the images of each case again. The daughter would be thrown around and murdered the most brutally. And each time the daughter and son looked similar to Mateo and her.

She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her torso and leaning back in her chair. “Gosh, that’s scaring me haha,” she softly joked to herself, “it almost makes me feel like they’re looking for…” Her voice trailed off as she squinted out her dark window, seeing her reflection faintly. She watched stiffly as it almost looked like her reflection was moving, or morphed…

——

Coming up in Chapter 2:

Slowly, she pushed herself off her seat and stepped closer to the window. Her heart began to beat heavily as she ambled forward and lifted her hands to touch the window as she got closer. A whiteness suddenly became more visible around her reflection’s face that slowly began to take a form of its own as she got closer. Followed by dark spots, an outline of a large body, and…