#as her old boss was brutally murder killed in front of her

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

@goated33 got me thinking-

in some ways, vaggie has the personality and risk assessment capabilities of a small furry animal

meaning everyone in hell THINKS she's the idiot chihuahua, picking fights with the local dobermans, getting metaphorically (literally?) dragged away by charlie for her own good

the twist is she's actually one of those damn weasel things, able to fuck up creatures several times her size and almost impossible to kill normally- yet STILL she's somehow picking fights waaaaay above her weight class

charlie got headaches over this in the early days, i bet. before vaggie simmered down from "don't kill kids wft" to "sinners maybe kinda redeemable actually? not for killy killy stab??"

even now though there's the vibe that, if left alone with alastor and even one less fuck to give, vaggie would be throttling him in seconds flat

this would probably not go well... sadly, once she got started, i could see her probably not noticing or caring much. imagine charlie worrying about this possibility a lot. some nights staying awake, concerned who her girlfriend might pick a fight with next, while vaggie lies fast asleep in her arms, blissfully smiling... likely dreaming of finally getting to stab somebody again like she means it <3

[xmorguekittyx]

His Lamb

what��s a sheppard without his lamb?

…a oneshot in which Older!Officer!Leon Kennedy would do

anything to get closer to Mortuary Assistant!Reader…

warnings: talks of corpses, groping, dub con, death, killing, blood, spit, bodily fluids, funerals, self harm, dubious acts of intercourse, dubious thoughts, manipulation, degradation, forced intercourse and kidnapping,

:dead dove do not eat:

“I’ll always look for you, Lamb.”

“the weather is forecasted that this will be the biggest storm, in Seattle’s history-“, the trees passing faded into hues of blue and green, dabbled by little splotches of clear rain drops, obscuring the paintings the speed of the old jeep make across a stagnant grey sky. “reports of wind speed as high as-“, fingers pressed into the soft flesh, digging into the skin as the voices blend into the background. The whirling of tires heard as the truck approached the small, lit up building. Brick, ivey growing up the sides as the paint flicks off, dark mahogany peeling back showing off a brighter red color, the last stand of not wanting to be forgotten.

much is forgotten, ghosts and shadows left to walk aimlessly. ghosts aren’t just the white, sheet covered spirits that haunt tv screens all across america. they’re here, with me and you, their lips parted in a wail, realizing that they’re being forgotten, cast aside and pushed away. a spark of resentment from the back of their silent throats, pushing silent screams into the void between them and us. bridging that gap isn’t too hard, if you know how to feel the silence. A small laugh leaves her lips as her eyes peer over to the flickering light behind the panes of the front door. pane, pain, what’s behind the door is merely pain, the place the deceased have their final moment. in her hands, they’re prepared to say their final goodbye. her fingers twirling curls, buttoning buttons are the same that once bore latex gloves, inserting a trocar into their body cavity, jotting notes down on her clipboard of any marking along their now cold bodies.

coat now cast along side another, more worn, lay across the coat rack, hearing the jingling of the bell as the wind threatens to push it back open. “Oh, you’re here.”, the voice travels rather dully though the gloomy building, slicing through the air with a soft appearance. “Yeah, I heard we’re in for a rough night.”, her fingers tapped the hook through her jacket, ensuring that it doesn’t slide off, the material slightly damp from the sprinkling rain. “Praying the power stays on. Don’t want to have to call Holman’s and ask to borrow his freezer again.”, eyes slid across the dark oak flooring, to the rust colored accents on an oak desk, then the soles of boots, haphazardly dodging paperwork as they laid heel first into the surface. “Holman isn’t that bad, he’s just…”, her voice wavers slightly, stepping forwards with a pull at her lips, eyes flickering up as if searching the rafters for the word to best describe the said man. “Too fucking touchy with the corpses, that’s what he is.”, the scoff that fell from her boss’s lips wasn’t an unfamiliar sound when discussing other mortician’s in the area. Her head shook, causing her hair to bounce as she gave a soft sound of amusement, “ever the brutal honest, yeah?”, her smile was a sight to the owner of the funeral parlor. causing his own to crack across his weathered cheeks, “yeah.”

“Officer Kennedy is doing the rounds tonight, after Mrs.Kowatch and Mrs.Edmond-“, the two women being murdered oddly close to each other by someone police have yet to identify. Their body’s embalmed right here in this very own morgue. “-they started having officers on watch on this road.”, he waved his hand and pen towards the main road. his eyes still on the mountains of paperwork. “You know, they think the bastard came up this way, said something on the news about him being rural, too animalistic to be someone like you and me- acting like they were mauled by bears or something”, she nodded, half listening- half thinking of which bodies she had to embalm tonight and if she thought she could get them done before the possible outage. “We even embalmed them, I, damn well, know a mauling from a murder!”, his voice carried as she crossed her arms, still in her own head about what tonight would in-sue.

“Ignoring your boss is rude, you know?”, the scoff that fell from his lips had her eyes breaking their stare off with the wall, peeking back at the blonde man. “Sorry, was thinking if i could get Mr. Harriett and Mrs. Jenkins both done before the powers shits out.”, still ignoring the man’s words. “You-“, his offended tone was accompanied by a dropped jaw, teeth white from the whitening pen he kept in his drawer from all the cups of coffee he sipped all shift. “You’re really gonna ignore what i said?”, his brows furrowed, his hand gripping the pen as he half way stood up. “Come on, at least humor me and act like you don’t tune me out.”, he whined, throwing himself back into the chair, nearly flipping it with his body weight. “But then i’d be lying, you don’t want me to lie… do you?”, she teased as she winked over her shoulder, turning her back to him once more as she made her way down towards the hallway leading into the embalming room and freezer.

“-suggest taking shelter now. conditions are expected to worsen as the night passes, again, we urge you to take shelter-“, darkness covers the duo as her fingers lock the cooler door back in place, the buzz of the afore mentioned machine cutting off. “You’re joking.”, she crinkled her nose, her hands coming out in front of her to try and guide herself from walking smack-dab into the doors she’d locked open. Her fingers wrapping around something, it’s temperature far too warm to be the door as she rips her hand back, a yelp coming from her lips. Her foot catching on the stretcher, back hitting the door handle of the freezer as she whines. “You okay back there?”, Ben’s voice carries, “Yeah, just got spooked is all…”, her eyes were barely opened as she looked up at the “warm” things she grabbed, or far awfully like a shirt, maybe her finger had brushed something hard too… it felt odd as she curled her fingers into a fist, still sitting on her ass on the cold tile. “just give it a few minutes, hopefully it’ll-“, the voice carried as the lights buzzed back to life, engulfing the small building in light. “come back on.”, his head lifted from the desk, looking down the narrow hall towards his assistant. “You sure you wanna stay, i’m okay with you going back home for the night.”, his green eyes reflected worry and care, having become close to a confidant to the woman. She scowled, not seeing anything that would’ve felt the way she knew she had as she looked back over towards him, pushing her body from the floor. “Drive back out there?”, her thumb jut out to motion towards the front doors, her feet pushing her towards the man as his hands crossed over his stomach, leaning back to get a better look at her. “Hell no.”, her tone was that of ‘are you crazy?’, to which it seemed some townsfolk thought the two were.

wind whistled, shutters snapping shut and open, her eyes squint as another strike of lightening lit up the windows. “It doesn’t seem like much work will get done tonight.”, the same weary voice spoke up after moments of silence, causing the seated girl to turn towards him. “Appears not.”, her eyes picked up on a light source, one that didn’t flicker away the moment it came, but stayed, slightly bouncing on the wall behind her boss. “Who?”, her eyes squint harshly, before turning her neck to look out towards the source, seeing the lights quickly shut off. “Probably Kennedy, you know he gets sent all over Timbuktu over nothing, someone probably reported your loud ass yip when you hit the ground.”, Ben’s laughter was not reciprocated as the woman glared at the man who signed her paychecks. “Yeah, yeah… really funny asshole.”, her cheek held up by her fist, facing the door with a pout as she watched the man approach the doors. He cupped his hand over his eyes before wiping the water from them. Blue, sky blue, her new favorite color. Maybe, a he’d seen the cop around a few times. Maybe, even a little more than a couple times. Maybe, she’d been knuckle deep in her cunt, imagining his scruffy cheeks rubbing against her plush thighs as he suckled on her puffy clit. Maybe, just maybe, his name fell off her lips when she fell past the point of no return, lusting after a man who probably thought her crush was childish and that she was no more than a child, seeing as he was in his early 40’s and her, her late 20’s.

“Officer Kennedy-“, the other man steps up from behind his desk, hand outstretched to shake the soaking cop’s. Leon Kennedy, the town’s “Officer Friendly”, as Chris Redfield liked to call him. His dirty blonde brownish hair covering those ocean orbs, his lips curled back into a crude smile. fingers wrapping around Ben’s in a grip tighter than need be. “Ben.”, he nodded, scruff shiny from the way the water dripped from his cut jaw line. his hands shuffling to swap the hat from one hand to the pit of his arm. Leon Kennedy was not your normal officer, he’d been in the force since he was green behind the ears at 21, now 42 and looking liked he’d seen far better days. Blue orbs of the sea and sky melted into a blue so blinding it seemed to draw in anyone who got to close and dark circles to match. He’d had a rough life from the rumors she’d heard, from his parents dying to mob related violence back when he was a kid and then joining the police force and having to shoot a robber the first day, then his girlfriend going missing under suspicious circumstances, seems Leon Kennedy, had a trace of bad luck. It didn’t end there, he was also the first to find the two murder victims that were found in town, one in the lake and the other thrown head first into a trash can. He’s always where trouble is, but it’s just his bad luck, he’d chuckle to himself as he thought about it in the shower the next day. How he always ended up near any dark spot. Murder scene, the one fucking robber who just wouldn’t put down his gun, his girlfriend never being found even after all the years. He laughed, what else could he do?

Nurse the bottle? He did that too. Frequently, actually. He was a damn drunk, what his neighbor calls him when he’s struggling to get his key into the door, slouching against the wall as she walks her chihuahua out into the complex’s grass. A snarl and a crooked grin fall from his lips before the lock wiggles, signaling he was free to enter. It’s a shame she was the first victim. Mrs. Jeanette Kowatch. A pity really, she wasn’t too old, her early 50’s, found in the lake, her chihuahua barking at her as her head was being overwashed by the lake water, crouched figure staring at the bloated skin that hung off her skull. “Yeah…”, he squint up at his superior. “I know her.”, he sighed, slapping his thighs. “Neighbour of mine, Jeanie, Jeanette- something Kowatch.”, he waved down at her, jacket crinkling as he moved. “Bag her up!”, the superior waved his arm, having the team clean up.

Leon couldn’t help throwing stigma that came with his name, “a damn shame; what it is.”, Chief Irons had said in an interview. “damn shame, someone like him had to go through the hell he has. He could be a great family man, probably had it all planned with that girl he had before coming to Seattle.” People pitied the cop and women swooned for his deadly good looks. He was pretty, awfully pretty, for a 40 year old man. He aged like a fine wine, the lines in his face accentuating the years behind his tough exterior. just like every other woman in this town; she too found herself falling for the cop. it was just in his nature to have many admirers. He gave off a dangerous, older vibe and she ate it up anytime he shot her any amount of attention. be it a small “hello” in the near by coffee shop, a flick of his fingers as they passed each other on the road.

“I know you were nervous to drive back home after the power and all.”, his laughter died down into concern as he flipped the jacket over his shoulders, breaking her eye contact with the man’s profile. She looked over at her boss, lips parting as she seemed slightly stunned to be ripped away from her muse. “I’ll be-“, “I’ll take her home.”, Leon’s voice cut her off, before he cleared his throat, his barely visible adam’s apple bobbing. Even if all the bad luck that hung around him like a vice gripping at anyone who got to close, had her hairs standing on end, she couldn’t help but be allured into his presence. “I mean, if you’re okay with that.”, he finished, placing his hand by his side. “Oh…”, her eyes lit up, almost blushing, her cheeks hearing up as she quickly looked towards the floor, her kitten heels shining in the dim lighting that had survived some how after flickering. “That would be okay…”, she whispered, the flush still evident. Ben knew of the shared crush between the two, his smile widening as he straightened the collar of his jacket. “Okay, well, i’m gonna head out. Text me when you’re home and safe, sweetheart.”, his head dipped down to press a kiss to her cheek, almost lovingly, platonically loving. He treated her like a daughter, but flaming eyes didn’t see it that way.

damaged pupils reflecting wonky, disoriented images, lips licked worn the taste of blood and crisp flesh. “Yeah, i’ll get her home safe, don’t worry.”, his voice nearly dropped in tone, eyes no longer tired and worn, but narrows and heated. Ben’s posture came back up into errection. “Didn’t doubt it.”, until now, he wanted to add, having recognized the shift in behavior. His neck twisting with a small pop as he eyes the officer that seemed like he was looking at a 5 course meal rather than someone who was needing his help.

Her love stuck mind hadn’t recognized the rising tension between the men as she tucked her hair behind her ears, pushing herself up right, blushing from the kiss and the words from her older crush. “Text me, alright?”, his eyes stayed narrowed and unassured as he looked from man to woman. His hand rubbing her side, comfortingly. His head tilting to see her face. Her eyes were glazed from just the thought of riding home with the officer who had her breath caught in her lungs and legs curling with pleasure pulsating from between her legs late at night. “Yeah, i will, promise.”, she gave a tight lipped smile, running her hands over her ass, straightening her skirt under her lab coat. “”I promise.”, she repeated at his weary look, who was he to take this moment from her, he knew her crush on the officer. “Alright.”, his own thin lipped nod came when he grabbed the door handle, “Let’s head out.”, Leon ushered her, hand on her lower back as he rubbed in small circles, “Get a pretty girl like you home safe.”, he whispered in her ear, a knowing smile on his lips as he passed the mortician, eyeing him with a flamed glare.

minutes felt like hours, his computer shoved into the back, his hand resting slightly on the console. the trees, once paintings made by Bob Ross, himself, dull castes with a black looming presence. headlights the only source of light for miles, and for miles to come. The inside of the car was a little cramped, honestly, knees tucked up tight to the bottom of the seat, hands clasped painfully together to refrain from touching anything or him. His eyes set on the road as rain pelted the glass, blurring any and all sight. “Maybe…”, her head looked over the back of the seat, lip pulled between her teeth as she touched them. “We should pull off until it lets up-“, a strike of lightening cracked, the strike landing closer towards the car as Leon let out a huff, blinking quickly to evade the dancing white spots in his vision. “Maybe so, usually it’s not this bad.”, he sighed, hands quickly pulling off onto a spot where there was a gap in trees. “Well stay here, hope a damn limb doesn’t crush us to death.”, he glanced up, scouting the trees as his fingers clicked the seat belt buckle, freeing himself as he leaned up further, as if he could really see anything. “If it does, at least we’ll go quick.”, she gave a tight laugh, her eyes near bugging out as she realized how bad it was. “I hope Ben got home safe.”, she whispered, her chin dropping to her chest.

Leon’s eyes moved from the darkness outside to her, sitting like a school girl, hiding away from him as she stared at her thighs. “I’m sure he’s at home cracking open a bud light.”, he offered some sort of comfort, even if his presence ran a chill down her spine, out of fear or excitement, she didn’t really read into it too much. His lips pulling into a grin, her eyes peeking up at his. “Yeah…”, she whispered, she looked like a lamb, skittish and nervous as he reached his hand over. “Since we’re talking about getting crushed to death…”, his words were airy, like an alluring line of a song. His fingers danced along the line of her skirt, the seem pinched between his fingers as he gazed at the plushness of her thighs. “I should probably tell you this now; i’ve thought a lot about you. Since dropping off those women-“, red flag number one, he didn’t care about the bodies, the people who were passed on, she always used their names, talked to them like they were still here. “-i knew, i wanted to see you more.”, her cheeks lit up, his words too good to be true as she gave a soft smile towards the door, aiming away from him as his hand left her seem to be flipped up and out of place, instead aiming for her chin. “I mean it, little lady.”, his words were saccharine, almost so sweet you could throw up. “Girls like you are hard to find, shy, morbid little lambs, you need someone to keep you in the flock, right?”, “Not a lamb, Leon-“, she spoke through grit teeth, her words more embarrassed than annoyed. she was dude to being called morbid, she worked at the funeral home after all.

His brows furrowed, head tilted with a look of confusion. “Course’ you are, my little lamb, you’ve wondered so far away… where’s your sheppard now, little lamb?”, is words didn’t seem as sweet as they did before, more like a confused lump of words as she racked her brain to repeat them. He… was saying she wondered too far-? Before anything came form her lips, fingers dug between them, pressing back into her throat as she gagged, her eyes wide and teary as she stared at him. Her jaw clicked, threatening to chomp down onto the digits. “I wouldn’t-“, his warning was taken seriously as her eyes fell on a glint of metal from the headlights shining back into the car.

Leon was no more the officer who wanted to drive her home and keep her safe, but a man- honestly a stranger- with a knife pointing the tip as her has her throat swallowed around his fingers. A groan of pleasure fell past his lips, his head tilting back. “Can’t wait to feel that around my dick.”, he sighed, his hand coming from her mouth, lines of sticky spit connecting him and her together, before he wiped the mess onto her lab coat, wiping his fingers around until he loved to his buckle, undoing it quickly as he placed his hand on the back of her neck. “Come on, Lamb, thank your sheppard for keeping you safe.”, he sighed, leaning his seat back. “You apply any pressure with your teeth and i’ll pull them out of your mouth. Got a nice pair of pliers in the truck, pretty girl.”, he threatened, her eyes tearing up more as his cock was pressed to her tongue, the threat taken very seriously as she leaned over the console. Her lips wrapping around the head of his cock as she slowly slid down. “See, got your mouth all fucking nasty so you could suck me off.”, he placed his hand flat on her head, tousling her hair, before digging his fingers into her scalp and pulling her hair slightly. “Don’t block me with your tongue, show some gratitude.”, he pressed down on the back of her head, feeling her let out a whine as her throat was invaded by the tip of his cock.

A gag had her throat clamping around him, his head falling back as he let out a deep breath through his nose. “Shit-“, he groaned, “such a tight throat, wonder if your pussy feels like this?”, he bobbed her head with his hand. His eyebrows were furrowed as his hips snapped up to her lips, pounding the bruised plump skin as her tears hit his thighs. “Shh… pretty girl, you wanted this.”, he whispered, “you wanted me in you, i know… i know…”, his hand caressed her cheeks, before reaching down to her throat, squeezing lightly to feel himself expanding her throat. Her gag was enough for her to pull off of him, spit and tears clinging to her skin. “Look at you, so messy… so pretty…”, his hands held her cheeks, squishing them together. “Need you, baby doll. You need me, too.”, his eyes were soft like someone who was talking to someone less than them. “Don’t you?”, he nodded as he spoke, mouth open and hanging just centimeters from hers as his fingers slid under her skirt.

fingers curling around the seem of her underwear, feeling the slick puddle as soon as he reached the delicious forbidden part of her, rubbing his finger over her slit as she mewled in his hold. “I knew you did… i know, baby, i know.”, her whines stayed that way until his fingers pressing into her folds, sinking one finger into the slick. “Shit, baby-“, he hissed, pulling his finger out to show her the glistening slick that adorned his fingers. “Knew you needed me too.”, he whispered, his lips near her ear, pressing a tender kiss to her temple as she sobbed quietly. “Let me make you feel better, let me make you feel good, Lamb.”, he spoke as he reached down and pulled the lace from her legs, her lifting and shifting to help him. The car was still dim expcet for the white of the headlights illuminating parts of their faces and… parts.

underwear thrown haphazardly as his knees hit the back of her thighs, “Stop- stop-“, she whined, her legs pushing back into his cock, letting it dig deep into her cunt. “You’re backing up on me, asking me to stop? How does that work, sweetpea? You want me to wreck your little cunt.”, his words were like growls. Something she hadn’t caught earlier, probably due to the mints hiding in his cup holder, was the hint of whiskey lacing his breath. his hands reached forwards, running the curve of her spine, “Don’t arch, relax…”, his words soothed her, her fucked out mind too engulfed in the feeling of him over her. Her face flush to the seat as her back bent to his hand. His fingers digging into her sides as he pulled back on her hips, pushing her onto him. his fingers dug back into the supple flesh of her throat, craning the muscle to have her left eye right where he could see it. a blaze of need and fear sparking behind those tears filled, beautiful, pitiful eyes. “Don’t act like you didn’t think about this the entire time you were watching me, sweet heart. Bet your cunt throbbed thinking of taking this older man’s cock in your pretty pussy.”, he putted, watching her as she closed her eyes, a soft pink blush fanning over her skin.

“Three days have passed since the disappearance of-“, three days since she road home with Officer Kennedy. Three days since she was last seen by her boss, three days since they found her clothes scattered around a road not far from her home. “- authorities are searching high and low for the young woman. Officer Leon Kennedy had this to say.”, the screen flickered with color, Leon Kennedy, the name that had been bustling in town, in Ben’s mind too. “-I cant help but feel guilty.”, his eyes red with tears, “It was my job to get her home safely. I dropped her off at her home, left her there and to hear a day later that she’s missing. I can’t help but feel i’ve failed her.”, he hung his head, sleeve of his uniform wiping at his eyes and snot smeared nose. “If you’re out there, know that in looking for you.”, blue eyes catch the camera. A peek of red catches from his collar, a scratch the side of a thin slice. Even knowing he was being a screen, knowing that his hands weren’t touching her skin anymore, the threat of his words felt like a nail in the coffin. Two pairs of eyes watch the screen. “I’ll always look for you, Lamb. What’s a sheppard without his sheep?”, his lips cracked into a lazy smile, “a stupid, herd led sheep.”, he knew how easy to manipulate she was. Remembering her cries and sobs, thinking about her pretty little tears, it was a shame she didn’t just take what the kind sheppard gave. it was a shame a sheppard like him… a wolf dressed in such innocent clothing, got his fangs into her.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Hi! I just finished Civil Wars, Whistleblower Tactics, Schematic Drafting, And The Finer Points Of Sith Adoption: The Essential How-To Guide For The Engineering Jedi by Jackdaw_Kraai and I loved it! Do you know of any more fics where luke works with the empire or Vader but it's not evil!Luke thank you!!!

Of course! The Fic Series for those who haven't read it!

Empire!Luke Skywalker Fic Recs

The Background Noise of Defiance by loosingletters - Rated G

The Galaxy is a big place and you can find all kinds of obscure things on the holonet, including a blond teenager from Tatooine dragging the TIE-Fighter program through the sarlacc pit. Or an Alternative Universe in which the galaxy gets saved because Luke has a youtube channel, everybody is on space twitter and Anakin Skywalker always returns to the light for his family. Rebellions are loud and vibrant and social media is the most powerful weapon right next to a lightsaber.

I didn't mean to insult the Emperor! by someonestolemygender - Not Rated

Ayuk Smythe, for those concerned, did not mean to discover that her Boss's suit is constantly hurting him or the fact that the Emperor intended for it to happen. Luke Skywalker just so happens to be there and is working on board the very same vessel as his father and a girl that he kept seeing in his dream. Firmus Piett would like to go back to sleep before things get worse and Maximilian Veers wonders who the hell did the Army adopt in the aftermath of battle as Luke Lars is a chaos magnet. Darth Vader would really like for his son to be found but doesn't realise his son is in front of him nearly every day since Luke joined and Emperor Palpatine would like to know why the Force feels lighter than normal. When you work aboard the Executor, it is tough, brutal and has a hardworking crew. Throw in a couple murder attempts, numerous fires, twelve cans of febreeze and about an entire departments worth of exhuasted people, well life gets a bit exciting.

every planet, every star, every single grain of sand by loosingletters - Rated T

In which Darth Vader finds 9-year-old Luke on Tatooine, proceeds to have a breakdown, kills Palpatine and makes his preteen son Emperor, as you do. Otherwise known as the Adventures of Teeny Tiny Emperor Luke and his Royal Dad Guard Darth Vader.

Darth Vader Goes to Therapy by LadyVader23 - Rated G

After a mission gone very wrong, Vader is forced into court mandated therapy to calm the concerned citizens of the galaxy. His assigned therapist? The only one who would take him: brand new therapist Luke Lars.

For Want of a Skywalker by acuteneurosis - Rated G

After the miracle of having survived Bespin, Piett does not ask why they are stopping on Tatooine. Or why Lord Vader suddenly has acquired a small child. Or why this child's name is Luke. Or how long they are going to keep him. He probably should have.

The Family Tree by frodogenic - Rated G

In which Luke Skywalker is stranded in a tree waiting for a flash flood to recede. Too bad he's got company… Post-ESB oneshot, can be read as canon-compliant.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 346

Drag Me Away (From You)/Flux: Chapter Two—War of the Sontarans

“Drag Me Away (From You)”

Plot Description: the murder of an old friend leads Sam and Dean to revisit the first case they ever worked and an evil entity they thought they’d killed years earlier

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes?: oh. I’d never go to a place of near certain death, I’m pretty sure. That’s never been in me to do…face a monster I’m trying to prove isn’t real?? Why would I do that?

Oh so Cas…Cas DID tell Dean, but in classic Winchester fashion, Dean’s keeping the truth about Jack’s mission from Sam

Baby Dean! Stop being mean to Baby Sam!!

If it I hadn’t watched nearly 15 seasons of spn, I’d be so concerned about the knife and gun in Baby Sam’s bag

Oh…so was the ghost that guy saw was…it looked like his childhood self

Responsible 15ish year old Dean not letting the others come with him…or walking the line between self sacrificial and brave Dean

Why did I think that the malevolent entity was gonna have a weird message in the boggle dice??

Oh they’re gonna have to destroy they ring.

So is the thing they’re hunting not even killing with real objects?? I’m so confused

Oh I bet Dean’s gonna tell Sam about Jack at the end of this episode after divulging that the thing they’re hunting kept a nest of dead kids to feed on

Billie’s not wrong. I was also wondering why we’re doing normal hunting this close to the end of the entire series

This green motel room is much easier on the eyes than the orange one

I would let Billie boss me around 100%

How did we really only get to Baba Yaga in the last five episodes of spn??? How have THEY never heard of Baba Yaga before NOW?!

Bet BY took Caitlin to the cannery where her nest is. Why am I better at the boys’ job than they are?

The way I knew those bubbly noises were going to be the front desk girl hitting a bong. Why are the boys so bad at this??

Hell yeah hell yeah hell yeah, room 214 actually took Dean right to the cannery LIKE 👏 I 👏 SAID 👏

Ok so it was still room 214 but she made him hallucinate that it was the cannery…like he admitted he was afraid of for a long time

HERE IT IS!!! He’s telling Sam everything that he’s been told in the past few days

I should be annoyed by the fact that this drama has come down to one Winchester hiding important info from the other and them arguing about it BUT OMG THE DRAMA of Dean basically saying that in the very end, ethics go out the window. It’s WILD.

Say what I will about Chuck and how much I hate him but…if he’s writing this argument? HOOOO BOY!! THIS is how you get the Winchester boys at each other’s throats even after all they’ve been through for your perfect Michael & Lucifer or Cain & Able story

“Flux: Chapter Two—War of the Sontarans”

Plot Description: during the Crimean War, the Doctor discovers the British army fighting a brutal alien army of Sontarans, as Yaz and Dan are thrown deeper into a battle for survival. What is the Temple of Atropos? Who are the Mouri?

Please tell me we’re not introducing even more concepts into this already really weird and overly crowded season

I guess since this dude has been out in space and o have no idea what time he’s from, it might make sense for him to not be disturbed by a floating terrarium filled with light barking orders at him (looks like HE is in the temple that holds the Mouri)

Thought Dan and Yaz were being erased a la Back to the Future rules but turns out they’re just taken to some other point in time

Oh now Yaz is in the temple and Dan is in a changed present where the Sontarans have taken over….hmmmm several people are outside their time

“I have Queen and country on my side. That is all I need” Wrong! You need god and anime and the Doctor

I don’t want to spend more time than necessary with the Sontarans but their philosophies are interesting. It’s very absolute and centered on death. Mercy is a quick death

Really thought the Sontarans had carried through from the Crimean War to present, not arrived again two days ago

Gonna go out on a limb and say that repairing the Mouri is not going to be a task with a positive impact. Yeah…Yaz is already suspicious of it

Dan gets kidnapped by an alien one time and thinks he can handle any alien thing the universe throws his way

This British general is an absolute idiot letting his troops fight the Sontarans

At least we’re condensing things a little by bringing the formerly imprisoned alien to the temple where Yaz is

I can’t see a Sontaran door and what they use to open them and not think “Donna, you have three fingers”

Oh shit. He just disintegrated one of the Mouri

(Meg chooses the worst times to smurgle so close to my face)

Is that known lore about the Sontarans?? That they need to rest in their ship every 27 hours to replenish their suits to circulate the gases their planet has?

I hate this general so much. Could have just let the Sontarans leave but decided to blow up their ships as they tried to

Dan is such a random sort of companion. Like, I know they’re all a little randomly selected but Dan is even more so, it seems

Ooooooo he replaced the disintegrated Mouri with Yaz and the space station dude

[dreamersdreamloud]

Drug Cartels (Part 1?)

Lena Luthor x Boss Cartel Reader 

AN: attempted rape, betrayal, strong language,  

The Luthor Cartel and Los Reyes Alfa Cartel have been in a drug war for a couple of years. The older generations knew how it all started but as the years went by, the lines have been blurred and the people had a hard time who to put their trust in. The two drug groups weren’t always like this before until a turnt of leadership led them into this direction.

It all started when two men from college wanted to start a business to make quick cash. The easy way to do that is to sell drugs. A shit ton of drugs. The two men became popular by name within their community. (Y/F/N)(Y/L/N) and Lionel Luthor have become popular within a month of sales. It’s a given fact that college students love doing drugs whether it's smoking it up or shoving it through their nostrils. They both agree that they want to keep this business stable but their supplier was lacking on them. 

Lionel pitched an idea that they should drop out of college and use his remaining inheritance money to create a warehouse supply in Mexico. It was relatively cheap at the time to buy land and start work. The two men drop out of college and disappear to Mexico to start a booming life. 

It was fairly easy. They got connected with American sellers and hired a bunch of Mexicans for the work. They called themselves the Templar Cartel. Lionel kept track of supplies and how it gets delivered while your father kept track of making deals and where the money was flowing. They become rich in the same year. They threw their money almost everywhere and anyone who needed it. They became the untouchable heroes . They hired lots of men for protection and women for pleasure. Life was going good for them until the Mexican and American government wanted to shut them down. 

The governments were getting frustrated with the rise of overuse of drugs, violence, and gang related fights. At first they didn’t know why and how but they found out that drug lords were the problems. At first, tensions grew between the Templar Cartel and the Mexican government. On both sides, many have lost lives from their own members or family. 

Lionel and your father brainstormed a plan to ease off from the government. They paid off Mexican officials to do some of their dirty work and create two branches within the Templar Cartel to cover more ground. More drugs and money production to flow in. It was doing really well until the American government finally got involved. Their efforts of hunting down warehouses were impressive but very dangerous. 

Lionel and your father have finally decided to go their separate ways and made a verbal agreement with several witnesses to not harm either drug group and hope for the best from out running the police and the ignorant government officials who betrayed them. 

*** 

A year and half later 

Lionel had found the love of his life. Lillian. He met the woman who was vacationing at one of the most beautiful Mexican beaches. They hit off pretty well and manage to keep a healthy relationship to the point where Lillian agrees to marry the leader of the Luthor Cartel. It wasn’t long for them to produce an heir, Alexander Luthor. Also known as Lex Luthor. Lionel was very pleased that his first child is a son who he can bond with and teach the ways of the Luthor Cartel. 

By the time that Lex was 14 years old, he found out that his father cheated on Lillian with an Irish woman when he visited Ireland for a business trip. The trip was about making new deals to send out drugs for that area. Lionel made a drunken mistake and fucked a woman during his trip out there. Lillain was upset for a while but they were able to talk it out and kept the marriage strong. When Lena Luthor was born, she wasn’t living in the Luthor compound yet, until after turnt of events. 

Lena’s biological mother was purposely shot by a rival gang. The backstory was when Lionel was in a meeting that day. Lena and her mother went to a beach to enjoy the nice warm day. Lena’s mother went for a swim and Lena walked around the beach to collect seashells. 

On her mother’s final moments, Lena heard a loud gun shot being fired from afar and she saw a bullet go through her mother’s head. A clean shot. Members of the Luthor Cartel tried to chase down the sniper. One member retrieves little Lena to safety just in case the sniper were to shoot again. 

Little Lena did not cry nor scream at her mother’s death. She knew what was going on and all felt helplessness in her heart. Lionel and his men took less than a week to find out who murdered her mother. A phony small drug gang who tried to scare out the Luthor Cartel for crossing their Irish territory. Lionel sent out orders to kill all the members of the drug gang. 

Lillian and Lex accepted Lena warmly but did not get much attention as Lex. The soon to be rising leader of their family cartel. Lionel has been training the young man into becoming a successful and ruthless leader. Lionel would give some training to Lena too but he always thought it was best that she stayed in school and stray away from the family business. 

*** 

A tragic day happened within the Luthor Cartel. Lionel Luthor was finally shot down by the CIA. The Americans have caught up with the cartel leader and brutally shot the man in public. The news spread so quickly. Lillian sent out members to pull out Lena and Lex from school to make quick changes of leadership. 

Lex became the new cartel leader. Lillian went into hiding because the Americans were hunting her down as well. Lena had a choice to go into hiding too but she decided to stay with her brother to help lead. She was angered by her father’s death but she can’t believe she was experiencing the same helplessness she once felt for her dead mother. Lex wasn’t coping well either. His rage was concerning but no one dares to question him. 

Lex sent out plans on expanding and killing many of those who were in the way. Lena supported his ideas and thought it was necessary. The Luthor siblings were unstoppable until Lena had a change of heart. She witnessed her brother send out orders to kill an innocent man’s family just because that man had pissed off him. 

Lena tried to convince Lex to stop the execution. She failed. She saw that Lex’s men shot the man and woman in front of their children and then the children became the next target. Lena cried for them that day. She cried out for many other family members but she did nothing to help. She let her brother do it. 

Her brother created more problems for the Luthor Cartel. He has started a war with Los Reyes Alfa Cartel. Lena and Lex knew that the leader of that cartel was once close friends with their father. They knew the history of how this all started  but never saw the face of the leader. Lex didn’t care for the old connection and threw the known verbal agreement out of the window. Lex stole clients and killed members of Los Reyes Alfa. 

Lex was growing insane and became hungry for more power. He threw a proposal to his sister on how to gain more power and money by sending her off to marry a cartel leader from Africa, James Olsen of Los Caballeros Negros. Lena rejected. She refuses to be in a arranged marriage with an unknown man who was know to rape women and kill families of those who disobey them. 

This angered Lex. He slapped Lena across the face and said “how ungrateful of you to refuse such a great opportunity! We are trying to build a bigger empire! For our father! For us!” 

Lena didn’t cry. She glared at him. She was going to hit him back but his two close  men, Ben Lockwood and Morgan Edge, took her away and locked her in her room. A few hours later, Morgan came back with handcuffs in his hands. 

“Your brother told me you need some warming up to do.” The disgusting man rubbed his clothes cock and eyed Lena from head to toe. “He says that this might change your mind. Once I’m done with you, I’m sure you’ll change your mind about your brother’s proposal.” 

Lena panicked. The man is going to rape her. She’s still a virgin too. She wasn’t going to let this man take her pure form. She didn’t scream because she knows that won’t help. Morgan holds her down and rips her tight skirt. She felt the hard cock hit her thigh. She kicked and punched the man. 

“You bitch!” Morgan slaps Lena’s face and tries to hold her down again. He attempted to unzip his pants with one hand but Lena kicked again but this time in the right spot. The man groaned on the ground and held onto his manhood. The raven-haired woman picks up a heavy object and knocks him out with a single blow to the head. 

She grabs the combat knife and gun on his body and quickly packs a backpack full of essentials. She manages to get out of the Luthor compound and makes a run for it. She doesn't know where she’s going but she knows she can’t stay within the Luthor Cartel territories. Eventually, the woman who used to run the Luthor Cartel with her ruthless brother is now on the run. 

When Lex found out that she escaped, he sent out groups of people to hunt for the young Luthor. Little did he know, Lena ended up hiding in the Reyes Alfa grounds where her faith could be unpredictable.

[ziracona]

Just blown away thinking about how /fundamental/ to Ritsuka’s survival, physically to some extent but way more like resilience and mental wellbeing and like, established personhood speaking, Shimosa coming right after Shinjuku was?

I mean Ritsuka is a tanky kid, long since proven, and that helps for sure—I mean they watch 80% of their group die in the prologue, and almost got killed by a bomb themself, an ally is murdered in front of them at the end of arc one, which is a city on fire and terrifying and full of monsters and dead people, and it only gets worse; every arc is rough in its own way, and obviously Temple of Time specifically left some lasting and deep wounds. But Shimosa?

Ritsuka is this fun, goofy, resilient kid full of trust and love and dedication and perseverance, and maybe most of all goodness, and basically no power at all on their own. They have been forced to depend on others not to be annihilated every step of the way, surrounded by impossible tasks and literally with the weight of the world on their shoulders, but they’re brave, and kind, and they’ve always stuck to it and tried their best and been kind to people even that they shouldn’t, and it’s always been enough, so far. They fight for survival and for those around them, and people choose to help. Their faith and goodness and determination and strength and sacrificial nature is rewarded or not left to fail for long because people see them and fight with them, and it’s an incredible strength and power kind of unmatched that has made them never truly powerless, in reality. Most of all they have always found a way to get. Back. Up. And fight, even when they have almost nothing left to offer. And Shimosa is the first time that just...isn’t enough.

Even with Musashi and Kotarou, the MC is almost completely alone—totally cut off from her usual support system and the people who they know and depend on. And so many people get killed. Over and over and over. It’s the first time innocent people are being slaughtered and screaming for help, and they’re forced to hide because they /can’t/ win, and they can’t try, because if they’re found the two kinds they’re looking after will be too, and they’ll doom all four of their group. Ritsuka tries and is forced not to. They leave behind a new ally to buy time full of faith he’ll make it back, and instead he gets killed and his body is turned into a monster that goes on to hunt them and their friends down and slaughter innocent people, and they have to put down while knowing it’s who was their friend and died for them. They believe in Danzo and the second that works and she decides to turn and fight for them, she’s forced to kill herself in front of them and /does/. It is just absolute ‘life is not fair’ hit after hit in Shimosa. And it takes a toll on Ritsuka absolutely—I think Shimosa is the arc they’re truly forced to grow up a lot—not like get better, like face a lot of brutal realities you’re not really totally forced to both accept and understand until an adult. But they survive it, and more importantly maybe, they come out the other side still the same person. And you know why?

I’m sure it’s a lot of reasons. It’s who they are, it’s who they choose to be. I think Danzo and Kotarou and Musashi and everyone who helped them in Shimosa were a part of it. I think Romani and Da Vinci and Mash and all their old friends were too. But I think a huge part of why is Shimosa happens /right/ after Shinjuku. And Shinjuku is also an arc like no other. It’s the arc where the long term ally betrays you, like several other arc, but this time, your time with them mattered and they feel guilty and more than that, they’re won over. It’s the arc where instead of a finale boss fight even harder than last arc, the antagonist throws the finale fight and it’s one of the easiest fights all arc. Because he doesn’t want to win. It’s the arc where a man in his mid sixties who has been a criminal his whole life and killed many people and never felt bad about it at all, who is dead and a spirit set in his saint graph and ways, famous /for/ being a villain, who has striven his whole life to prove his mathematical formula right and beat his rival, and finally, finally absolutely wins and gets both in the palm of his hand, lets go of his entire life’s purpose and desire and everything he’s ever been as a person, because who Ritsuka is and strives to be as a person, and how they treated him, mattered more. Because he didn’t want them to die, or to fail, and loved them. Just because of how they live and the choices they make.

It’s the arc where this villain to the core somehow isn’t one just this once for you because you loved and trusted him even knowing it was stupid and that mattered. The arc where he tells you as he vanishes to never be ashamed of who you are or think you’re wrong; that you’re incredible. The arc where life just isn’t fair, but it’s a good thing. It’s the arc where the only thing that saves the world is who Ritsuka is as a person, weak and trusting and good and determined and eternally hopeful and full of love, and just a little bit goofy.

And that’s the arc end right before Shimosa, where you keep getting knocked down and there’s no progress, no hope, and yet you make it. Because it might be possible and I think, because Ritsuka has this moment they just came from they can’t say was luck or someone else—that was them and all them and just them—that saved the world and means they might be able to again. Even if who they are is all they have to offer. And anyway this all makes me so happy & so sad but good sad.

[socialoutsiderwritings]

always, only. You 27.1

 Talia had taken Y/N in to her pack after your parents and their pack  were brutally murdered. For years she trained and learned under Talia alongside Derek , Laura and Cora. One night Talia tells you along with Derek that you two have to imprint on each other , to become each other’s mates. Your connection to Derek has always been stronger than his to you. So after the fire it killed you to be away from him , but you had to do it for your own survival. 7 years after the fact , you return home. Back to Beacon Hills. But the Derek you return to is not the same Derek you know. Will Y/N ever get Derek to accept the fact they are meant to be together?

Derek Hale x Reader

 You regained consciousness before arriving at your destination, but the shock collar hiding under the scarf they wrapped around you was the only reason why you haven’t fought your way out of their SUV. 

 One of the hunters opened the room door and shoved you inside. “We’ll be right outside, boss.” He said before closing the door behind you. 

 Gerard was in front of the window, looking out, not paying any mind to you at first. When the sound of the door closing clicked he turned to you. In his lap was a tissue box and in his hand a tissue covered in black goo. He coughed, bringing the tissue up to his mouth and wiping the black goo that was coming out.

 “You’ve had better days.” You said nonchalantly. You walked towards his bed and sat down at the edge, “why am I here?” You asked, boredly. 

 Yes, you reached out to him, specifically, to help you before. It was a one and done deal. You’d take away as much pain as you could and in return he will give you information and a way to subdue you, if there was a way. Your debt was paid. So why did he go through the trouble to bring you back to him?

 “I want to make another deal.”

 Your face remained stoic, but his words did surprise you. “I didn’t take you for someone to ask a werewolf for help. Change of heart? You wanna be friends now?” You mocked.

 “I have some news that might interest you. Maybe even save your life. And everyone else’s.” He continued. “You just have to help with this old man’s pain.” 

 You straightened yourself up. This is what you feared. Keeping the fact that you were an Ultima a secret was obviously out of the question, not mention impossible. But bargaining with a hunter? You could’ve been killed the first time, but you weren’t. Now you knew why. Gerard also always had something up his sleeve. 

 You scoffed, turning away in irritation. “You’re turning me into your personal healer dog?” You snarled at him. “What makes you think I’m going to agree to this bullshit?”

 “I don’t doubt that you’re strong. That’s why I had my boys put that on your neck.” He pointed at the scarf, but you knew he was talking about the shock collar. “One of them made it, so don’t expect a little love shock. The voltage on that thing can literally turn your brain to mush.” He smiled. 

 You thought over your options:

 1. Escape. If they made the collar that means either Gerard or one of the hunters outside the door had the remote. Along with the key. You were fast and strong, but your chances of taking these hunters out before they could kill you was slim to none. You also couldn’t forget about the ones waiting outside in the SUV. Not to mention the fact you were in a hospital. 

 2. Using Gerard as a hostage was also a slim to none chance of you leaving alive. Didn’t matter if you held Gerard close or not, the shock from the collar wouldn't faze him a bit. These hunters were smart, they’d lie through their teeth about what happened and no one would question it.

And 

3. A flat out no would you earn you a one way ticket to brain dead city. 

 You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, and letting out a heavy, resigned sigh. “Alright then.” You gave in. “We’ll do this like before.” 

 Gerard smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. When he opened his palm, he revealed the remote to what you assumed was the collar, his thumb hovering over the button to activate it. You got up and walked over to him, hand already reaching out for his. 

 You closed your eyes, wincing at the pain you were taking from him. It wasn’t pleasant feeling for you either. Even more that it was Gerard of all people. 

 “Alright.” You exhaled, letting go of his hand. “What news do you have?”

 “You’re being hunted.”

 “I knew that already.” You grumbled. You attempted to turn away but he grabbed your wrist, too tightly for your comfort. 

 “You didn’t let me finish.” He was angry now. He glanced down at where his hand was gripping your wrist and slid it down so his hand was now wrapped around yours. As you began to take his pain he continued, “I heard from Araya, they’re looking for la Loba.”

 “Who the hell is Araya?”

 “She’s the matriarch of the Calaveras. A family of hunters. They mostly reside and deal with cases in Mexico. But words,” he groaned in pain, “going around about a She-wolf they're desperate to catch.”

 “Me?” You asked. He only nodded. “How do you know this? Some kind of hunter network where you all gather and share information or something?”

 “Bradean.”

 “No clue.” You shook your head. You suddenly felt light headed and began to sway in your spot. 

 Gerard let go of your hand, allowing you to stumble back until you reached his bed. He allowed you a few short moments to regain your strength before continuing, “The woman I hired to get you out of Eichen House. Huge scar on her chest courtesy of Deucalion?”

 “Right.” Her face flashed in your mind. You remember seeing her before as well, before she had the scar. At the hospital. You never knew her name until now. “Deucalion did that?”

 “As the story goes.” He shrugged with a smile. “Didn't stop her from working for him again though.”

 Why?! You rubbed your temples. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to help you. Just tell me everything and get this over with!!

 “Get to the point already.” You wanted to scream. You were already annoyed doing favors for him and now by taking his sweet time telling you everything he knows so you can keep taking his pain, you could feel it bubbling inside you.

 “If you have enough energy to scowl at me then you could get to work!” He frowned at you, holding his arm out. You didn’t move. He rolled his wheelchair closer to you, forcefully grabbing your hand. “Do you want to know?”

 You nodded.

 He groaned feeling you take his pain. “Deucalion hired her because Araya captured Peter. And Derek.” He finished. He felt you pull your arm back and held tighter, this time bringing his hand that was holding the remote up to secure your arm in place. “They’re alive.” He stated.

 “Then we’re done here.” You pulled your arm out of his grasp successfully this time. Gerard scowled at you, the remote for the collar sitting idly in his lap. “Are you backing out of your own deal?” You question him after a moment of silence. 

 “You’re not finished.”

 “The hell I am.” You stood up. “I kept my end of your stupid deal.” You reminded him. 

 He grumbled something under his breath before reaching into his sweater pocket. He revealed the key to the collar and tossed it to you.

 “Wasn't so hard, was it?” You removed the scarf and walked around him to the mirror to find the lock. “Question. If they live in Mexico… what are the chances they will come up here on their own? Or are they going to hire their own hunters?” 

 “Depends how much they know.”

 The locked clicked open and you giddily removed the horrendous collar, tossing it aside. “Then I’ll just have to find out how much they know.”

 You opened the window, swinging one leg over then turned to look at Gerard. “Just so we’re clear now, this is the last time we’ll be making any sort of deal.” You jumped out, landing on your feet and began running to find Derek.

[ninnodesu]

“Can I See You?” ch 2 || Modern!Thomas

Well. People apprently wanted more of modern!Thomas, so naturally, my brain conjured up a continuation.  GUESS WE HAVE TWO LONG STORIES NOW, FRIENDOS

I AM GOING TO TAG EVERY CHAPTER OF THIS FIC AS CICU IN CASE YOU WANT TO BLOCK OR FOLLOW!

TWs: - Mentions of rape - Broken bone - Mentions of cannibalism - Mentions of murder - Murder

He could see in your eyes, how the tears welled up and streamed down your face that you’d recognize him and he left. He couldn’t look at you at this point, couldn’t look at you cry because of him. He heard you cry behind him as he turned to go into his basement bedroom, his heart stung in his chest as he heard you beg and scream in fear. Closing the bedroom door, he proceeds to lean up against it, back pressed hard to it, eyes shut closed. Some kind of desperate way to make your panicked begging go away.

I can't, I can't, I can't, his inner voice chant like a mantra. His anxiety gets the better of him and he starts pacing, the wood under his feet already marked with a worn-out pattern left by his heavy boots after years and years of anxious pacing. A fierce battle erupts in his mind.

- I can't kill her - You have to, and you know it - No, I won't - Come up with one good reason to fistfight the old man about this - He would die and I wouldn't have to do this fucking thing anymore - And what? You'll live happily ever after with this woman? - I… - She would never accept the truth

Returning to his original place with his back to the door, he slowly sinks down to sit on the floor, one leg sprawled in front of him, the other resting under it. He's lost, he doesn’t know what to do. If he lets you go, you'll go straight to the police. If he kills you, he'll never hear from you again, he'll never see your face again, a sudden wave of intense nausea hits him at the thought of keeping the skin of your face to make a new mask. No, no he can't do that.

This is the first time since he had to butcher his first human that he feels genuinely lost.

He's mad at his uncle for wasting the low amount of money they do have on ugly hookers and booze, having Thomas resort to this way of living. He never truly did want this. The first time Charlie, or Hoyt as he wants to be called now - although Thomas never really did care about his apparent name change and still called him by Charlie to piss on his ego - talked to him about this, he threw up minutes after being left alone.

He still remembers the first time he got forced into butchering a person, just like it was yesterday, even though it’s nearly four years ago.

That day, he was on his way home from work, ending the day with bashing his old boss’s head in with a sledgehammer. The old man had disrespected his family, something Thomas wouldn’t stand for. Knowing that the security cameras were already turned off, he swung the hammer out of anger. He was mad that they were closing the slaughterhouse and he was hurt by the words that had been spoken. No one disrespects his family and gets away with it. Killing his boss didn’t wake any regrets. He believed the old man deserved it. The afternoon sun was still blazing down at his already sweaty form, propping his headphones on his head, he turned the music on full blast and lumbered home with no care in the world.

His right hand carried a memento of his old work, the slaughterhouse’s chainsaw.

As he had come out from a few trees up on the gravel road, a police car was parked by the side of it, the harsh blue and red light blinking to get his attention. Figuring he was caught, he took the headphones off, letting them rest around his neck and stopped in the middle of the road. His hair blew in front of his face as he took heaving breaths, waiting for the piercing pain of a bullet.

Bang! Thud.

What greeted him instead of searing pain, was Charlie standing behind him, brandishing a shotgun and looking down at a police officer with the head blown off. Everything after that is a blur. Vague memories of Charlie talking to him about the plan, the body was laid out on an old table in the basement. He’d never seen this side of his uncle before, so he tuned out.  Words like “ do it”, “no money left”, “can’t afford”, “ butcher him ”, “don’t tell mama” and the worst sentence he’d heard in his life; “ you have to do this, Tommy. For the family. We need meat to survive, boy.” echoed in his mind.

A loud bang coming from outside woke him from his memories. When he just seconds later heard your voice in a shrill pitch, he almost jumped off the floor and hurried out only to see you laying on the floor with half the table over you, the other half leaning against the metallic sink.

Jesus christ…

Being left alone again, your thoughts start racing and your heart along with it.

Where did he go? Why is he here? Does he live here? Is he going to kill you? Rape you? Keep you as a hostage? Was that his family? What? Why? Where?

It’s quiet, but you hear a faint shuffling coming from somewhere close to you. All you can do is lay there and look up at the ceiling, and to your left or right.

On your left you see what looks like a workbench, an apron rests on a hook next to it. It looks well used, stained with a dark and muddy hue of red. There's a sink and dirty towels hanging off the edge of said sink. The sight to your right, however, makes your stomach flip and turn on itself. There’s cleavers, knives, hooks. Huge bins stained with the same red hue as the apron. Putting all the puzzle pieces together, your breathing increases, teetering on the edge of hyperventilating. Thomas, your Thomas. The Thomas you’ve gotten to know, the one you’ve missed for these two weeks, the one who made you all giggly when he sent you the first full-face selfie of himself… a murderer.

As the adrenaline starts shooting through your body, you try wiggling a bit to see how bolted down you are. Your fastenings are tight and they burn as you try pulling your hands out. The metal just digs into your skin resulting in nasty burns.

Fuck…

That’s when an idea - or rather a small glimpse of hope - blooms in your head. Hopefully, the table is not bolted down. It’s a stupid idea, and you know that if Thomas doesn’t kill you, the table most likely will. But rather the table, than the man you’ve slowly started to fall in love with during the months you’ve talked. Getting killed by Thomas’ hands would haunt you more in the afterlife than anything else.

Gathering all the remaining strength, you throw the entirety of your body not bolted down to the side, doing your best to ignore the burning in your wrists and ankles. The first attempt yielded nothing major, the table moved, yes, but not to the extent you wanted. So you do it again, this time, the table goes down, and you with it. You feel the bone in your leg crack before you feel the brutal pain that explodes through it.

Your scream is high to the point where you feel your vocal cords strain and your voice slowly becoming lower, raspier. The pain is enormous, the throbbing pain in your leg thrumming together with your rapid heart. But - thankfully - your scream summons movement, footsteps, and voices. The most prominent footsteps, heavy ones, belong to Thomas as he’s the first one to your side. Even if you can’t see him, you see his clunky boots and grayish jeans, at least you hope that’s Thomas and no one else. All you do is sob onto the floor, your tears pooling under your chin at the pain radiating from your leg… and the burns around your wrists. It takes a full minute before you see big fingers curling around the edge of the table, a grunt coming from above you before your vision starts flying. He was lifting the table up. A loud, hoarse cry escapes your dry throat as the table thuds back into place, jolting your broken leg.

You're about to scream again when your brain catches up to the cleavers and knives hanging to your right but quickly after the first raspy pitch leaves your throat, a hand clamps over your mouth. The rasping sound is muffled under the big hand and you can feel it moisten due to your breath, but all he does is put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and plead with his eyes for you to stay quiet. Which you don’t, you rasp out a hoarse scream against his palm and keeps shooting daggers at him. My god, are you pissed right now.

Who the fuck are you, and what have done to the Thomas I know, you fucking animal!

You don’t quiet down until you hear that sliding door slide open again and an angry voice rings out. "Thomas! What the fuck is that racket?!"

Thomas jerks his head up as he hears Charlie's voice. He's not sure what to do, his uncle’s footsteps thud down the stairs and soon enough, Thomas sees him in full and exchanges eye contact. "This bitch is still alive? Why haven't you taken care of'er yet, ya idiot?".

Shit uh…

He glances down at your dagger filled eyes while trying to figure how to keep you quiet and talk to his uncle at the same time, needing both hands to do so. He can't sign to Charlie if his hand is clamped over your mouth. Letting out an annoyed grunt, he grabs the nearest towel and shoves it into your mouth as quickly and deep down he can without choking you, making sure you can’t spit it back out. Seeing you so shocked, and angry and… some other kind of emotion he couldn’t place, he got the urge to show you some kind of affection. Resulting in him patting your cheek, his huge hand basically engulfing half your face before walking over to the stairs.

"Well?", Charlie spits out his venomous words. Thomas' hands fidget a bit, nervousness taking a hold of him.

'I know her' The same signs that he kept on repeating earlier, annoyance building inside him knowing that his asshole of an uncle refuses to learn more. Making it almost impossible to have a normal conversation with him. "Listen, Tommy, I. Don’t. Care.", the looks between the men are like venom. "You were 'sposed to get to work on'er before mama gets home. You know damn well how much she hates when the cattle scream." Thomas really can’t help the smirk hiding beneath his mask when he hears that. He glances up the stairs before checking the time on his wristwatch before shrugging, pointing to it, and slowly signing two words he knows Charlie can decipher.

'Fifteen minutes'

That's when Charlie grabs the neck of Thomas' shirt and yanks him forward, the only reason he's able to is that he manages to catch him off guard. His breath reeks of alcohol. A clear cut sign that he’s drunk. "Listen here, you bastard. I've had enough of your defiance today. If you ", he stabs a finger in Thomas' chest at the last word, "don't take care of that girl, I will . And you know damn well I ain't going easy on'er." Charlie releases Thomas with a shove, making him stumble backward slightly. The final words from Charlie’s mouth before leaving the basement stings in Thomas’ heart. "I don't want to see your ugly ass upstairs until she's done for."

Thomas watches him leave and turn towards you, who’s still crying silently on the table.

His heart stings more and more the closer he shuffles to you. Sure, he had had nights where he dreamt that he would meet you. But not like this. Never like this, never here. He did not want to see you on his butcher's block. At the same time, he moves to remove the towel he makes the same shushing motion towards you, with the same pleading eyes as earlier. This time, she nods. And Thomas lets out a sigh of relief. As he removes it, you’re panting, breathing sounding almost more like wheezing squeaks. He goes to rinse the towel under some lukewarm water to pat clean the bloody gash over the eyebrow that got hit to knock you out before getting here. All the time, he feels a burning gaze on him, from eyes that are seemingly watching his every move.

You wince when the damped towel touches your eyebrow, a wound you didn't know you had greeted you with a sting, a small hiss leaving you. Your eyes are glued to the giant man, making sure you see his hands at all times. You want to speak, but your throat is dry and hoarse, figuring out that your earlier screaming has annoyed your vocal cords to a great extent. So all you do is watch him. He, on the other hand, is doing his best to avoid making eye contact with you. And it pisses you off, but at the same time, it relaxes you and makes your heart hurt.

Why the fuck are you avoiding me?!

The thought makes your eyebrows furrow. He’s seen you naked, yet can’t fucking look you in the eyes? You try thrashing a bit with your shoulders to try and get his eyes to yours, but to no avail. His tender way to clean your wound surprises you. This huge killer, this murderer, and straight-up deranged man are making sure not to hurt you, and you can't help but breathe out a laugh.

That's when he - apparently - seems happy with his cleaning and turns his back to you, he turns the water on and it sounds like he's rinsing something. Shutting the water off he moves out of your line of sight. A slight panic arises in your chest at the thought that he might have gone off to fetch whatever tool he seems fit to end your life.  You hear a rummaging sound close by, and then he's back above you, looking down at you. This time, you feel a large hand on your head as he slowly and carefully tilts your head back, your eyes are met with harsh light and you shut them. That overwhelming want and need for him to look into your own eyes die down. Now, you don't want to look at him when he slits your throat.

But he doesn't.

You hear what sounds like a paper wrapping open. Two fingers press on either side of the gash over your eyebrow, a small whimper escapes you at the pinching pain, and then something sticky is attached to you. A band-aid. He had put a bandaid on the cut of your eyebrow. It isn't until you feel his hand leave your head that you open your eyes. And at that moment, your eyes are met with his blue ones. The way he's looking at you makes a tiny bit of your anger and hurt, and fear goes away. His blue eyes are filled to the brim with hurt, and sadness, and confusion. It almost looks like he’s about to burst into tears. He looks broken down.

Thomas fiddles a bit with the paper wrapper of the bandaid after making sure it's secured on your eyebrow and proceeds to look down into your beautiful eyes, your eye color popping in the harsh light. Something in them reflects his own emotions. He doesn’t want this, he punishes himself for not responding to your text messages the past weeks, or that he didn’t reach out to you. What he’s looking at is clear cut torture for him. He wants to cry.

I'm so sorry…

He hears the familiar clacking of his mother's shoes above the both of you, a sigh of relief escapes him. Patting the pockets of his jeans, he makes sure he has his phone and the keys to the basement before he heads over to the stairs. But he stops right before ascending them and looks over to you.

He pulls his phone up, unlocks it swiftly, and goes to his text-to-speech app, making sure the volume is put on high before typing out two words and hitting the speech button. A male voice rings out through the basement.

"I'm sorry"

[ladyideal]

The Faceless Shadow: I

Word Count: 2073

Warnings: spoilers of s1 finale, mention of rape, mention of murder, Billy Butcher, language, alcohol

Summary: Five years later, you enjoy life after years of hardwork bringing NYC under one rule.

A/n: yeah... let's just yeah.

Five Years Later

$1.50

You frowned at the prices of the last stack of newspaper in front of the glass window. Billy Butcher's face smirking up at you from the front cover aggravated you. Sure it'd been some time since the Mallory incident, but you'd lost men to Lamplighter when Frenchie left his post. Begrudgingly, you threw in the needed money and snatched the old, wrinkly paper out of its casing.

Using people was what he enjoyed doing, and what he would continue doing in his quest for vengeance. Losing an associate was pitiful, but to one of your made men? There wasn't going to be a second chance. Zero wasn't happy, and you certainly were ticked off at the past still. Tucking the newspaper clip into your jacket, you headed back to the club. 

Ten fronts. All ranging from clubs to restaurants. Mostly legitimate, in terms of paying taxes. New York City was divided into Staten Island, Queens, Manhattan, Bronx, and Brooklyn. Zero headed Queens, and your third took over Staten Island. Although your main headquarters was situated in Brooklyn, you enjoyed the sights and the skyscrapers of Manhattan.

Including Vought Tower.

Vought. The head of supes and all things capitalism. The main reason why you kept all business on the very down low, despite the very club that even some of The Seven visited regularly. Blackmail: A very old fashioned, but reliable form of silence. 

Rounding a few corners, you slowed to a halt in front of the vip line. The DJ was in by now, and the lines outside grew by the minute as the sun dipped below the horizon. Two bouncers in black stood outside, flanking both sides of the entrance and refusing bribes for those wanting to enter early. The Vortex was a popular club, and business was booming. Noticing you, the two bouncers stepped aside. And with a polite nod, you entered the club, much to the dismay and protests from behind.

Music pulsate as lights from the dance floor shined and glittered within the dark. The DJ was in, and every body cheered. Rounded tables littered around the edges with plenty of people of all ages, drinking, grinding on one another, and flirting with the multitude of waitresses and sex workers. Smoking was prohibited within, but all was allowed on the outdoor spaces filled with recliners, a pool, and a jacuzzi. 

Ignoring the cat calls thrown your way from those relaxing in the lounges, you headed deeper within the nightclub. Taking a few turns into a less populated section and nodding again at the bouncers standing guard at the bottom of the VIP stairs, you headed up. At the landing, all eyes nervously turned to you.

And rightly so. 

Most knew you were high up in the family. You've made it that way for a reason. The less people knew, the better. Very few people knew who you truly were. With a quick wave, a smile, and a polite hello, you ducked onto another flight of stairs towards your office. 

"Oi, dick face, what are you looking at them for?" Came from behind. Last you knew before you closed the door, was the sound of a brawl. Sighing, you plopped into your office chair and-

"Boss, I've got the year's expenses on your desk." Grace spoke from the speakerphone, effectively shattering your peace. 

"Thanks Grace," You mumbled, pushing the stack of documents to the side. All you wanted was to grab a drink, keep an eye on the offshore accounts, and call it a night. Definitely didn't want a headache with the financial advisor on how to keep your fronts legit. Taxes could go fuck themselves, if you had a say in it. "I'll take a look at them later. Just log it in for next year's tax season."

"Oh and one more thing."

"Yeah?" You reached down into your mini fridge for a beer.

"Well- it's." A nervous pause. "There's someone on the line asking for you." Another pause. 

"Who is it?" You asked, popping the cap off and leaning back into your chair.

"Butcher."

There was a long pause of silence as you tumbled the name on your lips. It had been years since you last saw him, much less even contacted. Ever since the Mallory incident, you immediately cut ties with the former SAS Special Force. Two of your men were burned by Lamplighter, and you haven't quite forgiven him.

"No. Tell him I'm busy. I don't want to speak with him. He can go find help elsewhere."

"He insisted."

Unfurling the newspaper from within your jacket, you laid it out on your desk, frowning down at the same man that wanted to speak with you. The small picture of Butcher himself scowled up at you on the front page, making headlines for brutally murdering Vought's VP. You sighed.

"I'm sorry, I tried. But he's a-" A nervous chuckle. "He's a weasel."

You waved the apology away. "Put him through. We'll talk about this later."

An audible gulp. "He's on line 2 whenever you're ready."

Green light above Line 2 flashed steadily on your landline. Rather reluctantly, you leaned forward and plucked the landline phone up, already regretting giving Butcher your office number. Leaning back once more, you dimmed the lights down and closed your eyes. "We agreed to never contact again."

"Hello love." A familiar voice spoke loudly against the backdrop of New York traffic. 

"No. Whatever the hell you have planned, I don't want part of it. Things are finally looking up, and I'm not going to fuck up this chance. Vought's stocks are booming. I'm making money, don't have to worry constantly on anyone placing a hit on me. Zero is having the time of their life. I'm out of that mercenary life, found a different calling. "

An annoyed sigh. "How is Zero?"

"Married with their husband. Life is good," You shrugged. "If you've got nothing else to say, then I'm heading off to finish this fucking beer. Goodbye Butcher."

"Give me one fucking minute, love. I'll explain everything."

Got nothing to lose. "Forty five seconds and counting."

"Becca. I found Becca. Me wife has a son, Homelander's son. The cunt fucking raped my wife, fucking hid her away for so long. I was there. I saw her. Green lawn. White picket. I can find her with your help. You, mate, as a person of your skills." A pause. "Sitting behind a desk. Wasted."

"Look what Lamplighter did. Burned two of my men. Burned Mallory's grandchildren. Nothing to bring back home, not even their teeths," You hissed, slamming the beer onto the office table. Bubbles sloshed down the bottle, pooled, and dripped down onto the carpet. "It has always been about Becca with you. Becca this, Becca that. No, Butcher. Screwed up that one chance. I'm not doing it. You just don't care. You use your friends, then throw them to the side like fucking garbage when you're done."

"It'll be different this go. None of that "secrets and lies" bollocks. And that Mallory shit ain't gonna happen this time. I swear to God."

Drip. Drip.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hating every syllable the man on the other line breathed out. With a shake of your head, you sighed, reigning in your anger and pulling out a cabinet for paper towels. "Alright, motherfucker. What did you do? The cameras at the club picked you up."

"We just dusted a supe." Butcher smugly spoke, confidence oozing through the line. 

"Bullshit."

"Translucent." 

That cheeky bastard. "How the fuck did you do it?"

"Well. Big lump of C-4, packed right up his fudger. Boom," He was excited. "Boom. Claret everywhere. Fucking diabolical."

"But…?" You cut into his amazement. 

"He coughed up a solid lead. Spilled the beans in a big way. Now, we play this right, we could shake up the whole hornets' nest, bring down Seven and Vought at the same time. Y/N, you are the only one I can trust."

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of your name, dance so delicately on his tongue. It was as if the man was putting you on a pedestal. "Names are powerful, Butcher. You know this. However, since when have you ever trusted anybody?"

There was a sly pause on the other end. 

Fights were less often nowadays. Since the fall of the fifth family of New York, there was no need for the heightened anxiety to be on the lookout. Nowadays with your tight grip, it was just petty gangsters that riddle the streets, pretending to be big and bad. Some killed, robbed, or graffitied, all in the name of trying to impress you. No action, no thrilling action that needed your every second of attention. 

And if you were going to be honest with yourself, you missed the action, the absolute adrenaline pumping thrill of physically working towards a common goal. There was a camaraderie in that sense, where no place else could ever replicate, but neck deep in shit.

"Oh, fuck me," You mumbled in defeat. 

Eats Everything: @asraime @aspiring-ginger @mournthewicked @bluesclues-1234 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @groovyfluxie @keijibum @also-fangirlinsweden @mysoulshideaway @fandom-imagination-ss @your-sparklywinnercollection @yakuzussian-2nd @supergeekfangirl @mayday1284 @sayanythingcreations

Karl Urban: @fandomsfeelsandfamily @justa-traaash @yueci @writerdee1701 @hlabounty96 @lacychick

The Boys: @space-cowboy2227

[spurgie-cousin]

WHW In Memoriam: Unarmed, Murdered Black Americans from History

(Content Warning: Violence, murder, abuse, racism)

So this is definitely not the same kind of ‘weird’ history I usually post about (and it’s not Wednesday quite yet), but in light of the George Floyd verdict I thought it was important to take a moment to remember some of the unarmed, murdered black Americans throughout our history, most of whom have never received justice. Whether their lives were taken by the police or violent, racist vigilantes, their memories should always be a reminder that though we’ve come a long way, we still have a long, long way to go. 

This is in no way a comprehensive list, in fact I start at Emmett Till because the *known* lynchings pre-1955 are too numerous to include in one, two, ten posts. I know I will not have room to include even everyone post 1955 (god there are so many) but please know that all of them, from the unknown to the infamous, from our country’s beginning to today, matter the same.

“History, despite it’s wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.” - Maya Angelou

 1. Emmett Louis Till

Born: July 25, 1941, Chicago, IL Died: August 28, 1955, Money, MS

Emmett Till was a 14 year-old child from Chicago visiting relatives over his summer break in August of 1955. Unfamiliar with the strictly racist social codes in the American south, he spoke to a white woman at a grocery store, and was accused of flirting with her. A few nights later her husband and his brother abducted Till, brutally beat and mutilated him, and then shot him before letting his body sink into a river. When he was found, his body was barely recognizable even to his mother. 

In an act of grief and defiance, his mother held a highly-publicized, open casket funeral to show the brutality of what had happened to her child to the world. 

It’s believed that before her death, Carolyn Bryant, the woman from the grocery store, recanted key details from her original story, including that Till whistled or flirted with her. 

2. James Earl Chaney

Born: May 30, 1943, Meridian, Mississippi Died: June 21, 1964, Philadelphia, Mississippi

James Chaney was a 21 year old field/social worker working for Congress of Racial Equality (CORE). He was murdered along with two colleagues, Andrew Goodman and Michael Schwerner, by the Ku Klux Klan while they were in Mississippi investigating the burning of a church. The 3 were pulled over by a patrol car being followed by 2 cars full of Klan members, who shot Goodman and Schwerner, beat Chaney, and then shot him 3 times. 

3. Michael Donald

Born: July 24, 1961, Mobile, Alabama Died: March 21, 1981, Mobile, Alabama

Michael Donald was a 20 year-old who on March 21st, 1981 was walking down the street after purchasing cigarettes for his sister. He was chosen at random by a car full of Ku Klux Klan members, angry that a recent Klan members court case had been declared a mistrial. He was beat, hung, and his throat was slit, and was left hanging dead from a tree in a secluded, wooded area. 

Three Klansmen were convicted of Donald's murder. Henry Hays was sentenced to death and executed in the electric chair in 1997. James Knowles and Benjamin Cox were sentenced to life in prison. A civil suit against the United Klans of America caused their bankruptcy.

4. Yusef Kirriem Hawkins

Born: March 19, 1973, Brooklyn, NY Died:  August 23, 1989, Brooklyn, NY

Yusef Hawkins was a 16-year-old black teenager who was shot to death on August 23, 1989, in Bensonhurst, a predominantly Italian-American working-class neighborhood in the New York City borough of Brooklyn. Hawkins, his younger brother, and two friends were attacked by a crowd of 10 to 30 white youths, with at least seven of them wielding baseball bats. One, armed with a handgun, shot Hawkins twice in the chest, killing him. Hawkins and his brother were in the neighborhood to inquire about a used car. 

5. Nicholas Heyward Jr.

Born: August 26th, 1981 Died: September 27th, 1994

13-year-old Nicholas Heyward Jr. was playing cops and robbers inside the stairwell of a Brooklyn apartment building when officer Brian George mistook the boy’s toy gun for a real gun and shot him in the stomach, killing him. 

6. Amadou Diallo

Born: September 2, 1975, Liberia Died: February 4, 1999, NYC, New York

In the early morning of February 4, Diallo was standing near his building after returning from a meal. At about 12:40 a.m., officers Edward McMellon, Sean Carroll, Kenneth Boss and Richard Murphy were looking for an alleged serial rapist in the Soundview section of the Bronx. While driving down Wheeler Avenue, the police officer stopped his unidentified car and interrogated Diallo, who was in front of his apartment. When they ordered Diallo to show his hands, he supposedly ran into the apartment and reached into his pocket to show his wallet. Soon afterwards the four officers fired 41 shots with semi-automatic pistols, fatally hitting Diallo 19 times. Eye witness Sherrie Elliott stated that the police continued to shoot even though Diallo is already down and that McMellon is still shooting even though he is lying on the ground.

7. Kendra Sarie James

Born:  December 24, 1981 Died: May 5, 2003, Portland, Oregon

21-year-old Kendra Sarie James was shot and killed by Portland Officer Scott McCollister when she attempted to flee a traffic stop for a minor violation. Portland police initially said it appeared the car had run over the officer's foot but he did not receive medical attention at the scene or at Northeast Precinct. Police repeatedly refused to identify the alleged traffic violation that caused them to stop James and two companions in the car. Police had taken the driver out of the car and was checking his identity when they saw James slide into the Chevrolet’s driver’s seat. Both officers, while standing on the driver’s side of the car, struggled with James to stop her from driving away. One of them fired a taser gun at her to subdue her. McCollister fired a single round from his 9 mm service pistol at James, killing her.

8. Deaunta T. Farrow

Born: September 7, 1994, West Memphis, Arkansas Died: June 22, 2007, West Memphis, Arkansas

On the night of his death, Deaunta Farrow was walking with his 14-year-old cousin from Farrow’s home to the nearby Steeplechase Apartments where Nash lived.  Along the way the two made a stop at a gas station where they purchased soda pop and chips from the station’s convenience store, and continued down the street. Farrow and Nash turned up the street leading to Nash’s apartment.  At that point two undercover West Memphis police officers, Jimmy Evans and Sammis, who were on a stakeout in a narcotics investigation, appeared from a nearby dumpster.  According to some eyewitnesses, the two police officers confronted the young men and soon afterwards Sammis, noticed something bulging in the 12-year-old’s coat pocket.  As Farrow removed the item, Sammis shot and killed him.

9. Rekia Boyd

Born: November 5, 1989, Chicago, IL Died: March 21, 2012

On the night of her death, Rekia Boyd was hanging out with friends at Douglas Park on Chicago’s West Side at a party listening to music while having a few drinks. Around 1:00 am, Boyd and some of her friends walked to a nearby liquor store. Around the same time, officer Dante Servin was just finishing his shift on his second job. He was off duty, heading to a fast food restaurant for a hamburger, but Servin drove to Douglas Park after a citizen called police about a noise complaint. Servin saw Boyd and her friends and later claimed they were arguing in an alley. Whether Servin calmly approached Boyd and her friends or was rude and aggressive is still debated. One of Boyd’s friends, Antonio Cross, claimed that Servin attempted to buy drugs from the group. When Cross told Servin to “get his crackhead ass out of here,” Servin pulled a gun, stuck it out of the window of his car and fired into the group, hitting Boyd in the head. She was instantly killed.

10. Eric Garner 

Born: September 15, 1970, NYC, New York Died: July 17, 2014, NYC, New York

On July 17th, 2014, NYPD officers approached Eric Garner on suspicion of selling single cigarettes from packs without tax stamps. After Garner told the police that he was tired of being harassed and that he was not selling cigarettes, the officers attempted to arrest Garner. When Pantaleo placed his hands on Garner, Garner pulled his arms away. Pantaleo then placed his arm around Garner's neck and wrestled him to the ground. With multiple officers pinning him down, Garner repeated the words "I can't breathe" 11 times while lying face down on the sidewalk. After Garner lost consciousness, he remained lying on the sidewalk for seven minutes while the officers waited for an ambulance to arrive. Garner was pronounced dead at an area hospital approximately one hour later.

11. Breonna Taylor

Born: June 5, 1993, Grand Rapids, Michigan Died: March 13, 2020, Louisville, Kentucky

A narcotics investigation regarding suspected drug dealer Jamarcus Glover, led detectives to Breonna Taylor’s residence in the South End. Glover was a previous acquaintance of Taylor and she was under suspicion for using her home to his receive mail, hide his drugs, and stash money earned from his drug sales. Taylor, who was 26, at the time, lived in a Springfield Drive apartment with her 27-year-old boyfriend Kenneth Walker. Taylor and Walker were asleep in bed, on the night of March 13, 2020, when they were awakened by a loud banging at the front door. Taylor called out, asking who was there, but heard no response. Walker, a licensed and registered gun owner, armed himself and headed towards the front door, when it suddenly came off its hinges.

Under a “no-knock” search warrant, Louisville Metro Police Department Sgt. Jonathan Mattingly, Detective Brett Hankinson, and Officer Myles Cosgrove, all in plainclothes, stormed into the apartment. Taylor’s boyfriend Walker, thinking this was a home invasion robbery, fired one shot in self-defense. Sgt. Mattingly was hit in the leg, and in response, the other officers opened fire, releasing more than twenty rounds into the apartment. Taylor was shot eight times and collapsed in the hallway of her apartment. She was pronounced dead at the scene.

12. Daunte Demetrius Wright

Died: April 11, 2021 (20 years old)

On April 11 of this year, Daunte Demetrius Wright was fatally shot by police officer Kimberly Ann Potter during a traffic stop and attempted arrest for an outstanding arrest warrant in Brooklyn Center, Minnesota. After a brief struggle with officers, Wright was shot at close range by Potter, who had confused her gun with her taser. Officers pulled Wright out of his car and administered CPR, but were unsuccessful, and he was pronounced dead at the scene.

[porta-decumana]

Zadnor & Bozja’s Ending

I know it’s been the bandwagon to hate on Werlyt and I’ve been critical of that plotline in the past as well.  But Bozja may have just taken the cake for unsatisfactory storytelling, in my opinion, while also skirting into the same realm of “we’re gonna give imperialism a pass because maybe the Empire isn’t that bad uwu”.  Obvious spoilers for rank 25 quests, the Dalriada raid, and Bozja’s story ending under the cut along with screenshots.

This is a pretty critical look at Zadnor specifically so if you don’t wanna read that then feel free to bypass this post.

Bajsaljen’s Constitution was probably the first part that really made me scratch my head and question the entire plot.  I was convinced at first I was too sleepy to process what Bajsaljen was saying but then I went back and... yeah, he really did say that.

To which, Marsak calls him out on, a fact that I appreciate because my response was pretty much the same level of “wtf” as him and the nameless/dialogue-less NPCs in the room.

If you haven’t played Bozja in its entirety yet, you may not understand why I felt like this dialogue was incredibly appalling.  The instances are filled with horrific encounters, some of which are:

Dabog, a former Resistance soldier who was experimented on in order to become an expert warmachina pilot and later shows back up in Zadnor as a model swap for the final boss of Gyr Abania.  In other words, mutated beyond recognition.

Lorvo, another former member of the Resistance, who was tempered by the Queen.  You fight alongside his student, who is trying to save him.

Shemhazai, a death spirit summoned with auracite and the sacrifices of Garlean soldiers.

Delubrum Reginae’s 2nd boss (I believe?) are a group of former Blades who have been tempered and their bodies have mutated.  These are former comrades you, as the WoL, personally fought alongside in the early parts of the Southern Front.  Named characters with backstories.

Fabineau quo Soranus - a brutal commander that is known to torment his subordinates and use men and animals both as test subjects.  

And this is just a fraction of what I can think of off the top of my head.  So understand that when I saw Bajsaljen say the above parts, I was questioning what parts of the Empire he was talking about.  And I know he tries to use Misija as his reason for this but it still just doesn’t quite sit right with the literal everything else that happened fighting for Bozja.  Because you can make the argument that Misija saw the Imperial way of life better but also you can make the argument that she was enacting a revenge plan that transcended multiple generations.  Misija’s issue with Bozjan society was the mistreatment of her and her family as well as the murder of her ancestor-- classism.  And while her hatred of Bozja and its high society (the Blades) might be understandable, I think it does little to excuse the rampant death and cruelty the IVth legion goes on to do.

I think what Bajsaljen is trying to say is that he does not want to create another society that would create more Misijas. But in doing so, it feels like he’s giving the IVth legion a pass after all the atrocities they’ve done (even calling the occupation “peace” and that... hnghhh is it peace when people are being used as experiments, Bajsaljen?  And they’re being oppressed?) and it just feels really, really tone-deaf.  Especially given that Bajsaljen’s top soldiers were all, for the most part, tempered and then put to death.  That just adds an extra ouch factor.

I don’t wanna spend too long talking about this bit so I’m gonna move onto the next offender, which is Gabranth, or more specifically, what happens to Gabranth (or... how it happens, rather).  Honestly, I was uncomfortable with the Bajsaljen stuff but the Gabranth field notes absolutely floored me.  It feels as though there was either scrapped content here or... the team decided they could not continue the plotline with Gabranth any longer and decided to write him out in a note that only a handful of the playerbase will probably read because otherwise, there’s no indicator that Gabranth’s tale is over.  Here are the bits of the field note in question:

And you might go, “Wow, that’s a wild way to end the Bozja tale” to which I would agree and remind you that none of this is shown in-game, it’s all just in a field note that could be easily skipped over.  Yes.  That’s right.  Dalmasca’s freedom, Gabranth’s fate, Lyon going full mutiny... it’s all in a field note.  The ending Bozja cutscenes actually have dialogue like this:

In another scene, with Lyon and Gabranth in Valnain, Dalmasca.

Note: this is an allusion to Noah having the same terminal illness as his father.

The scene ends with Lyon looking surprised at the weapons and Sicinius and Gabranth go to discuss the findings.  The scene then cuts to this photo and the questline ends.

So to put it mildly... I’m mad.  Why are we supposed to find out the fate of Dalmasca-- something that’s been in and out of the story since Stormblood-- through a field note?  Why is Lyon’s betrayal also found out this way?  And Gabranth’s alleged demise?  I’m incredibly iffy on the choice to do this in the plot but I would be considerably less mad if any of this was indicated in the cutscenes.  I happen to really like Gabranth’s XII’s iteration and the fact that we got a field note on him made me excited.  I only found out about Dalmasca being freed, Lyon’s treachery, Gabranth’s death because of that.  And that was incredibly jarring to read given the cutscenes I had just watched.  There’s no indication that any of that would happen and I can’t help but feel as though that is a bit of lore that is often going to be overlooked by players who simply don’t think to check the field notes for important lore bombs.

I want to reiterate: I'm not specifically mad at the story decision to kill Gabranth (even if it’s a fake death), I’m mad at how this was all revealed to the players.  Particularly the bit about Dalmasca.  It discards the age-old rule of storytelling-- “show, don’t tell”.  I could forgive them for having to cut certain bits of Bozja’s story because of the pandemic severely hampering development but... there had to have been a better way than this.  Maybe redo some of the cutscene dialogue?  Maybe add in a little bit more to the final scene?  I was excited to face off against Gabranth.  I was excited to go help liberate Dalmasca, especially after the Return to Ivalice plot really set us up for that in the future.  This... just feels incredibly unfulfilling.  And I hope that this is not how they decide to end things with this section of the story.  The build from Return to Ivalice and the continuation of those plot threads in Bozja were great!  Having it unceremoniously ended in a field note?  Not so great.  

Two honorable mention things that I don’t have the energy to talk about at large

Mikoto’s visions don’t feel significant enough to the story.  This is particularly egregious in Zadnor’s arc, where she has a vision where she falls off an airship and then tells the WoL to not say anything because she “doesn’t want people to worry” instead of, idk, trying to find a way to save herself.  She only sees herself fall, she doesn’t see herself land.  But she insists there’s “nothing we can do about it anyways”.  It... felt like they didn’t really matter in the end?  Fran ends up deus ex machina-ing a rescue anyways so like... what was the point?

Misija's “redemption through death”, a tired trope that is even more tired in FFXIV.  I know there’s two different endings to this quest but Misija being executed after being mortally wounded by the Diablos Armament is the ending I received.

Going to harken back to the criticisms of Werlyt.  I’ll maintain my stance that I still think Werlyt had some glaring issues with it... but I will give it this.  It didn’t kill off characters from a side plot that had been going on since Stormblood in a field note.  And it didn’t involve the Werlytians being like “Hey let’s base our new constitution off of the VIIth legion... that is a great idea.”

Anyways, I still recommend doing Bozja if only because the Dalriada is a good instance with a very good final boss theme.  I did enjoy aspects of the questline but the ending really soured my opinion of it.  

[irarelypostanything]

“Invincible” Pitch Meeting (ScreenRant Rip-Off)

*Spoilers*

Producer: So I understand you have a new superhero series for me

Writer: Yes sir, I do. It’s called “Invincible,” and it’s about a superhero named Omni-Man! He’s from another planet, he can fly, he has super strength, and-

Producer: You mean he’s Superman?

Writer: Nope, Omni-Man. He also has this team he’s a part of with other great superheroes

Producer: Is it the Justice League?

Writer: No. It has this super fast guy, this person with fish powers, and this shapeshifting super hero who is implied to be from Mars

Producer: Let me guess. The Flash, Aquaman, and The Martian Manhunter?

Writer: No. Maybe. So Omni-Man’s son has powers of his own, and he decides to become a new superhero named Invincible

Producer: Yeah, I’ll be honest, this sounds like a blatant ripoff of the DC Universe. If you want to get on Amazon, you need to be more like that other super hero show we aired called “The Boys.” You should check it-

Writer: At the end of the first episode, Omni-Man brutally murders everyone else in the group and they have to basically start from scratch

Producer: ...WHAT?

Writer: Yup. We go to credits for like five seconds, then all the characters we just established are killed in the most brutal way imaginable. Especially the fast guy. He has his head explode and can feel every nanosecond of it.

Producer: This sounds amazing. I take back everything I just said

Writer: Yeah, so for the rest of the season we basically ask ourselves why Omni-Man would do such a thing, since he seems like the perfect heroic father at first. We have Invincible start to develop his skill set, and it’s pretty obvious right away that he’s already going to be one of the world’s best heroes

Producer: Who does he fight?

Writer: Well in the second episode there are these aliens from some universe where time passes much more quickly. They keep returning with decades worth of superior technology

Producer: Is it going to be hard to defeat them?

Writer: Actually, it’s going to be super easy. Barely an inconvenience

Producer: Oh really?

Writer: Yeah, once Omni-Man shows up he just goes to their universe, destroys an entire planet, and comes back by dinner time

Producer: Is that how it happens in the comic?

Writer: No, but it’s going to be one of the most iconic scenes in the show

Producer: I love it. Who else?

Writer: A robotic mob boss who runs a bunch of illegal operations downtown

Producer: Invincible and Omni-Man took down an entire planet. I imagine it’s going to be really easy for Invincible to take on someone like this

Writer: Actually, it’s going to be super hard. Definitely an inconvenience. Invincible basically almost dies

Producer: Oh my god

Writer: Yeah, and his dad just kind of watches.

Producer: Father of the year right there. What are the other characters like?

Writer: His main love interest is Amber, who doesn’t have super powers or know he’s a super hero, but then there’s Eve, who does know. Love triangle

Producer: Love triangles are tight! Can we make Amber Black?

Writer: Sure. Amber and Invincible’s best friend are able to figure out he’s a super hero because he looks exactly like him, and also because he tends to disappear like five seconds before his alter ego claims to be running for help

Producer: I have to be honest, this supporting cast sounds way too smart. When Amber figures out he’s a super hero, does she forgive him for running off?

Writer: Nope. Because he lied

Producer: Well I mean, he lied to protect her. That’s what super heroes do, right?

Writer: I don’t know. She was kind of an afterthought in the comic, so I don’t really care what we do with her. We also have this woman in her 20s who looks 12. She’s another super hero and I was thinking we’d have the actress for Azula play her

Producer: Azula playing a woman who looks 12? Doesn’t sound like a fit

Writer: Her power is that she turns into a giant green ogre that can crush other heroes like twigs. The side effect is she gets younger every time

Producer: Oh, never mind. Yeah, we’ll give her a call.

Writer: There’s this robot who leads the group, but he’s actually freeing prisoners and collecting hero DNA for some sort of nefarious experiment

Producer: Uh-oh! Is he trying to make a perfect version of the hero society so that they can be better at their jobs?

Writer: No, he actually just wanted to transfer his consciousness to a human body so he could date the woman who looks 12

Producer: Oh. But if she keeps getting younger, won’t she be too young for him later?

Writer: We’ll deal with that later. Eventually, Invincible is going to realize Omni-Man was actually sent to conquer Earth, not save it.

Producer: Uh-oh! But Invincible is his son! It will be easy to talk some sense into him and make him change his mind, right?

Writer: Actually, it’s going to be super hard. Definitely an inconvenience

Producer: Oh

Writer: Yeah, he’s going to level an entire city in front of him, and let all the blood and guts get on him. Then he’s going to murder someone he just saved in front of him, destroy a train, knock over some buildings

Producer: He still sounds like a better father than mine

Writer: I definitely don’t want to ask about that! So what do you think?

Producer: Yeah, seems like a great show and I can’t wait to show it to my 6-year-old daughter. She loves the Power Puff Girls

Writer: You’re a worse father than Omni-Man

[cupcakesnomnomnom123]

Durarara!! x The Outsider

Crossover

*note* AHHH this cross over is my new thing I swear lol. I don’t usually write fics because I can’t hold my attention down long enough to think about a whole story. I usually like to draw because I love it and it gets my ideas out quicker. But I can’t stop thinking about this scenario and the dialogues between the characters that I have to let it out! This is my first fanfic so please be gentle but still love some criticism to my writing. ☺️ also THANK YOU for the support for the other post. I’m glad y’all like it. Also! Not going to be too much Shizaya yet. I wanted to be more Tom and Shizuo friendship centric here.

<TW> mentions of murder, child rape, cannabilisim

(Scenario: News has spread all over Japan of a brutal sexual assault and murder case of 10 year old Misaki Suzuki in Ikebukoro. Details of the murder was leaked to the public early leading to Tom Tanaka arrest while the public and social media are pushing for his death sentence. Tom is waiting to be put on trial. Shizuo visits his accused friend in jail )

Seeing Tom after a week since the… incident.. it looked like Tom aged 10 years. Shizuo sits down and picks up the phone on the left side of the wall and sees Tom so the same. They wait till security leaves and they were alone.

“Hey Tom.. are you okay?…. Wait, shit uhh sorry…that’s a dumb ass question to ask. How are you holding up?”

“…Not very good honestly… who knew being hunged over, fired and being put to jail on the same day really wears a person out haha…”

Tom laughs to lighten the situation but Shizuo can tell it’s fake and self depreciating. Shizuo raises his right arm and tries to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. He looks earnestly at Tom.

“You didn’t do it.”

Tom drops the small smile he had and his eyes showed what he truly felt inside. Completely hopeless.

“Why do you think that? You even said you saw me. Everyone thinks I did it. Even my family. I know they do…my mother refuses to answer the phone. And she always answers the phone. Hell I’m even starting to believe it too. “

“No”, Shizuo says sternly,”it doesn’t add up. I told the police I was with you most of that night. All those fucked up things that happened to the kid. It doesn’t even make sense….you couldn’t of been the one to do it. I’m sure there were cameras at the bar we were at. You couldn’t be at two places at once Tom. That’s impossible”

“A lot of impossible things happen in this city Shizuo. I’m staring at a guy who can lift trucks with no problem”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

Shizuo hates that Tom is feeling this way. He’s upset and pissed at the whole situation. He was pissed the whole time the police was questioning him. He doesn’t have a problem with them per se, even with his bad history with them. It was the repetitive way they were asking the same.damn.questions. Over and over just said differently. It was to see if he would change his story and it was getting on his last nerves. They were betting on Shizuo to give up Tom because they got DNA evidence and even bite mark evidence. All matching down to the very last tooth. But he hold his ground and kept telling them the truth. The police were obviously getting annoyed but he didn’t give a damn. They were trying to get justice for Misaki. They wanted to blame the person all the signs who is pointed at. It made sense. He still would of beaten their asses. But would not helped his or Toms case at all.

He first thought was Izaya since he’s always the cause of all Shizuos problems. This time, it didn’t have izaya’s stink and it didn’t sit right with Shizuo. Izaya usually makes himself known that Shizuo is the bane of Izaya’s existence. The flea is a coward and ruin people’s lives, however…. this… even he thinks izaya doesn’t cross a certain line.

After dealing with the police for hours he went home but he couldn’t get much sleep. The image of Tom running away covered in Misaki’s blood burned in his mind. When he did sleep he wake up having nightmares of finding Misaki body in that dark alley over and over. At the time, he didn’t knew what he saw being he was buzzed from the night of drinking .He didn’t know it was the little girl till he saw the face. The body itself was almost unrecognizable. The body was mangled and ripped apart like a huge animal had gotten her. She was close to Akanes age and sometimes in his dreams both their faces will merge together staring at Shizuo with those same cold dead eyes. That wasn’t the worst part of his nightmares. The absolute worst part was imagination giving him vivid images what the Tom imposter did before Misaki’s murder. He wished he didn’t know..

“Didn’t you also hear from the police shizuo.?,” Tom avoids his eyes.”They also found my DNA all over the scene. They found dna in the building, the van, clothes, inside-

Toms stopped when his voiced hitched a little.

“…the cops showed me pictures…..They were trying to get me to confess but I really don’t remember after I was drinking. I shouldn’t kept drinking. You were right I should of stopped after drink three I should-“

“Hey”. Shizuo says in a harsher manner than he intended.

While Tom tries not to completely break down in front of Shizuo, Shizuo looks at the situation with pure anger and frustration. He can feel the familiar burning feeling simmering beneath his skin. He’s used of being feared like a inhuman beast he is. People feared, and held animosity towards Shizuo. He’s used to that. But Tom wasn’t. Tom literally has the whole world against him right now.

“You don’t deserve to be here..” he almost whispers in the receiver. “ you’re not the monster everyone says you are. I know this not because I was with you most of that night. I know you. We wouldn’t be friends if you pissed me off.”

Their was silence between them. The pause went on too long for Shizuos liking. Toms smile was tired, a little shaky when he sighed but grateful. It was a sigh of relief someone was there at their lowest.

“I think this is the first time you called me one. I was wondering if you ever referred me besides being your boss.” Tom closes his eyes while slightly leans back in his chair with his arms crossed and one side of his mouth perked up. “It feels weird getting the side of being pepped talked at but….” He looks at shizuo with thankful eyes

“Thanks…for getting angry that night. Well, for my behalf. Honestly, that’s the most nicest thing someone has done for me so far since I’ve been in this cage. I’m glad I still have you as a friend. Though I’m not your boss anymore.”

Shizuo doesn’t let too many people in his life in because of the fear of him accidentally hurting them. But this is Tom. Who was their for him at his lowest. He helped him to get most of the thugs off him during middle school. Gave him the suggestion to dye his hair blonde. Given him a job where everything else has failed. Even with izaya interfering with most of them, he knew his temper alone is the first cause of them. Tom helped him so much more than Shizuo deserved. Tom was the last person to be in this fucked up position. Even with the limited pool of relationships he has, he knew when a friend needed him. So he said what he knew he can do best.

“I’ll kill the asshole who put you in this mess. You didn’t kill the girl. I will prove your innocence one way or another. No matter what. I’ll be honest, I’m not sure where to start but I will find them.”

He can’t ask Tom to trust him. He’s afraid to ask. It would be too much faith to ask he had on him when he didn’t had that much faith in himself. Back of his mind, he’s afraid to fail. The voice nagging him, telling him he’s a fuck up. He’s nothing more than a beast destroying everything in his wake. But he’s gotta try. He’s too scared of the alternative option. Tom dying alone believing he’s not worth saving. So he squashes, pushes, kickes and punches that voice back as far it can go. Tom needed to see he’s trying. Tom just smiled at him.

“I trust you on that shizuo. I don’t usually go for violence but this is a special case. I wish I can be there to witness you do it. You still owe me a drink.”

“You still want to drink after this?” Shizuo jokes. Tom smiles a little wider and puts his left hand on his chin in contemplation.

“Hmmm You right. I’m done with drinking for a while. I’ll just settle with trying not to get killed in prison.”

*Aannnd that’s it! Im not sure how much I can do writing before I burn out but the dialogue is the fun part. Doing backgrounds will forever be a fun and the bane of my existence. I hope I stayed IC. I want to do a scenario where shizuo and izaya will work together but my brain will go straight to fluffy moments lol. *

[thiccpettybitch]

Made For Loving You Baby

Here is my Porter Gage/Fem! Sole Survivor Fic. If im gonna be honest this is one of (if not THE) fic i am most proud of? It just kinda...worked out so well atleast so far lol. So here is chapter one, if you wanna read the rest you know what to do! AO3 

(like always most if not all of my stories are 18+ everything from sexual content to gore, murder blood and everything inbetween, if you’re not comfy with it i’d suggest you stay away. If you are more interested in what the tags are click the link above) 

’’What. The. Fuck’’

’’Boss?! Ya’ mind knocking?!’’

‘’Not if it’s my own fucking quarters’’

‘’Right, Shit, I’m sorry Boss’’

‘’Boss? You taking orders from some kid now Gage?’’

‘’It ain’t like that’’

‘’The fuck you just say?’’

‘’Woah! Boss relax she didn’t mean nothing by it’’

‘’The hell I didn’t’’

‘’Take your chem whore and get the fuck out Gage!’’

‘’Jealous bitch?’’

‘’Jenni don’t-‘’

‘’You know what? Just fucking stay. I’m outta here’’

‘’Boss wait! Fuck…’’

Gage scrambled for his pants and almost tripped over his own feet as he tried his best to pull them up and walk at the same time.

‘’Gage what the hell? You’re just gonna leave me here?!’’

‘’J- just grab your shit n’ meet me at the bar. I gotta fix this’’

It took what felt like an eternity before the damn elevator finally arrived and he was able to get in it. She was already half through the park, he knew it. He had seen how fast she could storm off if she was pissed off enough and this time she was just about ready to kill someone… more than usual that is.

His heart was pumping wildly in his chest and for the first time since all that bullshit with Connor he was scared. Sure Colter had been fucking crazy when he got pissed off, killing and hurting anyone or anything that got in his way but things were different with-

It hit him like a fucking brick wall, he didn’t know what to call her besides Boss, he never even took the fucking time to ask something as simple as that and now she was mad as hell roaming either Nuka World or heading back to the commonwealth. He couldn’t let her turn out like Colter but have her just skip out wasn’t an option either, he had to find her – fast.

The elevator stopped and he rushed out half running hoping that she’d end up just standing outside having a smoke or bashing some Disciples head in for staring at her ass. His gut twisted when she was nowhere to be found, he had to figure out just where the hell she would have gone and that was fast.

‘’Hey Gage’’

Gage – startled to all hell – turned around to see Savoy lighting a cigarette and blowing out smoke towards the sky.

‘’Savoy’’

Gage greeted, it wasn’t a secret that the Boss wasn’t a fan of the Disciples (considering the fact that she could be quite brutal and had a…thing for knifes and blades) it was a bit of a surprise. What was even more surprising though was the fact that she got rather well along with Savoy – to put it simply Gage didn’t like it. He never knew what was going on inside that guys head and trying to read it from his expression was a waste of time even when he wasn’t wearing that ridiculous mask.

‘’You lookin’ for OB?’’

‘’Yeah, you seen her?’’

He took another drag of his cigarette before exhaling the smoke away from Gages face like he was considering if he should tell him or not.

‘’Yeah, I saw her. She was heading towards that old gas station, pissed as hell too. What did you do?’’

Gage wanted to snap at him for just assuming it was him but seeing as it actually was he just sighed.

‘’Brought a guest up to her quarters, got a bit. . . carried away’’

Savoy snorted and choked on some smoke.

‘’Yeah, if I caught you in my bed with your pants around your ankles I’d be mad too, would probably just kill you though so you might want to look out’’

‘’Yeah well she ain’t some blood thirsty savage’’

‘’If you say so. You better hurry up before she actually decides to go after you’’

‘’Ya, thanks for the help.’’

--

Gage stopped in front of the old Red Rocket station his hand hovering in front of the door, he had to give her props she knew what she was doing. The entire station had been secured with Turrets and a huge fence surrounding the entire station. She had built a foundation on the roof and another floor with a bedroom and more. Although the three gangs had helped build the place it was hers and they knew not to invade her privacy.

Gage didn’t know what to expect, last person who just barged in had ended up with a broken arm and pissed himself when she had pulled out her blade. And she hadn’t even been mad at the time just asserting her dominance. At least that’s what Mason had called it.

She wasn’t ever mean to Gage if anything she was nicer to him than anyone else, he saw her as a friend sure but was often reminded that no matter age or height she was the Over Boss and wasn’t afraid to show it. She was just never mean or hostile towards him.

‘’Fuck it’’

He mumbled and slid the door open, he waited a second to see if she would have been there to greet him with a knee to the gut but she was nowhere to be found. He closed the door behind him and headed for the upstairs ‘’bedroom’’ and sure enough she was sitting at her desk staring at a cigarette box.

‘’Hey Boss… You okay?’’

No answer.

‘’You worried me there, thought ya’ might have just skipped out on us – headed back to the commonwealth’’  

No answer.

‘’Shit… Boss I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t hav-‘’

‘’You could do better’’

Gage was taken a back and had to convince himself he had actually just heard her say that.

‘’Ain’t like I’m planning on settling down with her or anything we were just fucking’’

‘’In my bed.’’

‘’Now come on Boss, how many times I gotta tell ya’ I’m sorry?’’

He sighed and sat down on a couch in front of the bed. How she managed to get such a clean mattress he’d never know.

‘’What’s this all about Boss?’’

‘’You fucking in my bed’’

‘’I ain’t talking about that! How come you ain’t yelling at me, throwing shit hell I’ve seen you snap at people for just staring at ya’ for too long’’

‘’Your point?’’

‘’Where is the anger? Why is it never directed towards me?’’

She went quiet again reaching for the box of cigarettes and pulling one out, she placed it in between her lips and turned to him. Gage couldn’t help but chuckle she never brought her own lighter. He got up and walked up to her flipping out his lighter and placing it in front of her.

‘’Would you believe me if I said I respect you?’’

‘’No’’

He grinned and she just rolled her eyes taking a drag from the stick in between her lips.

‘’What If I told you I can relate to you’’

She held up the box and he pulled out his own cigarette lighting it and taking a drag himself.

‘’How so?’’

‘’A lot of ways. I Hate being the center of attention, always has. Hate how easily i get attached… I trust people and they end up stabbing me in the back’’

‘’Ya, people don’t often deserve trust’’

‘’No I’m serious the bastard actually stabbed me before he ran out with a bag full of my caps and my finest Bourbon’’

He snorted and shook his head, he missed that one-sided smile she had.

‘’I trust you.’’

He stopped smiling and looked up at her, her tone had changed and she was staring at him now all amusement wiped off her face.

‘’I- uh… Trust ya’ too Boss-‘’

‘’Don’t- don’t say it unless you mean it Gage. I just wanted you to know that I know what it feels like, and that I really do trust you’’

She took a last drag before she put it out and exhaled the smoke through her nose.

‘’No need for an answer now or ever i-‘’

‘’I trust ya’ Boss. I really do’’

She looked him in the eyes again and smiled, her eyes looking strangely beautiful in the dim light.

‘’Now can we be done with all this emotional shit?’’

Gage laughed nervously, truth be told he did find her beautiful, her eyes her hair her skin, everything. He remembers the time he had to help her clean a gash on her cheek and he got to slide his thumb over her cheek.

God damn if that wasn’t the smoothest skin he’d ever felt under his fingers, he was no stranger to women or the way their skin felt under his touch but never had he felt such warm and smooth skin. Weird as hell that he was even thinking about this shit.

‘’Gage how fucking long has it been for you’’

‘’I- What?’’

‘’You can’t sit quietly for a few minutes before you’re all flustered’’

‘’I ain’t thinking about fuckin’ Boss!’’

‘’Mhm… You should get back to that lovely old lady before she runs off’’

‘’I only paid for an hour anyways’’

‘’Jesus H Christ Gage you paid for her old ass?!’’

He groaned loudly with a look of defeat across his face, yup she was back to normal.

[prose-for-hire]

I know what you did last Halloween...

Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Pairing: Scooby gang x reader (platonic)

This is a platonic story with the reader as part of the Scooby gang. Set season 3. It’s going to be a small multi-parted serial killer/slasher fic for Halloween. Reader lives with Giles, but is not related. The deaths in this part are not described in much detail. 

Not sure how popular it’ll be with you guys, but I’ve enjoyed writing it so far !! 🖤🦇

Warning: It is a serial killer fic, main characters are going to die (I’m sorry, it’s Halloween). Violence. Blood mention. Threat.

Sunnydale Scare? Scythe-wielding killer strikes again

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Sunnydale High school, not used to such horror inflicted on their student body since Principal Flutie’s unfortunate death in office [His memorial will be on the 31st as his family reveal it was his favorite time of year].

The scythe-wielding killer, who was seen wearing all-black with a festive mask, has claimed his most recent victims. Two members of the swim team found themselves in hot water after they were found with brutal and fatal injuries. The wounds matched the scythe that is commonly associated with the widely termed ‘Sunnydale slasher’.

It makes us wonder at the Sunnydale Express, why and how this idyllic town has managed to create such a monster?

You and the Scoobies were good friends. You helped save the world more than once whilst fighting algebra homework and Principal Snyder. You had moved from your hometown to Sunnydale at the same time as Buffy, meeting her on your first day and becoming best friends since that day. You had moved into Giles’ spare room after your parents had wanted to move on again. You had been sucked into the slaying and you couldn’t leave the others. Giles had been very accommodating and very much like a parental figure. Things had been going well, you were close to graduating and finally getting the hell out of there until one life-changing event that would forever be ingrained in your minds.

You and your friends were sat around the school canteen. The mood was pretty low and you were collectively checking over your shoulders every so often. You had been discussing the latest spate of murders. Surprisingly, it was widely covered by various news outlets and hadn’t been brushed under the rug as the usual demon relating killings were.

Buffy and Faith had been doing double patrolling, making sure there was always someone out after dark. Giles had been pleased but he wasn’t aware of the real reason. Although he had noted a difference in your mood in the past year. Despite the extra patrolling, no matter how many demon-snitches they beat up and threatened, there was no changing the answer they didn’t want to hear.

“So this… slasher? He’s-it’s-she’s-?” Xander spluttered through the pronouns in his disbelief.

“Yep. Human” Buffy shrugged, sighing and staring down at her food. Nobody had eaten anything. The lunch you all had set out in front of you was just for show. None of you could stomach much at the moment.

“Shouldn’t we have found them by now?” Willow wondered, her brow furrowing in frustration.

“It could be anyone. And I’m guessing they’re not exactly wearing their ‘I’m a killer come catch me’ sweater”

“Yeah, Giles says he’s gonna look into it, but unless it says ‘Scythe killer was here’ in one of those big old books…” You tail off as Buffy picks up your sentence.

“We’ve got zip. Nothing” Buffy nodded again. Conversation then turned. You had been in a deep discussion of something in low murmurs, that was until your best friends boyfriend walked in. A dead silence blanketed your table.

“The blank stares and silence make me feel at home” oz deadpanned and you all laughed slightly too loud at this. He squinted around the room, shrugged and then kissed Willow’s forehead before staring around at the odd vibe. He had noticed that none of you had been the same for at least a year, but anytime he tried to talk to Willow about it she just shook her head vigorously and locked herself in a different room until he dropped it.

“Well, I have some place to be that’s else. Or about three tables that way” He gestured with his head to where one of his bandmates were sat. Willow assured him she would come over and sit with them in a minute. After you finished a very important conversation.

“I can’t do this anymore, lying to him hurts my heart” Willow said sadly, shifting uncomfortably as if her heart was physically aching her, “I have to tell him”

“And how’re you gonna do that exactly, Will? Oh, hey there Oz remember last Halloween, well we-” Xander cut in harshly, trying to make Will be realistic.

“Stop it! We can’t talk about this here. Anyone could overhear, they already suspect I’m a slayer” Buffy said firmly.

“We have big mouths, sorry” You shrug, smiling tightly.

“This isn’t funny!” She snapped, the events of last year had her wound even more tightly than usual. She had more responsibility than she could handle on her shoulders as it was, let alone this secret weighing down on her like a

“I’m not laughing, Buff… I’m sorry” You whisper. You did feel guilty. You felt horrible. Some nights you barely slept, and when you did you had these horrible nightmares.

Oh, right. That guy that you killed. Well, it was a total accident and you were all very sorry at the time. I mean, you still are. But, thing is, you just didn’t happen to tell anyone or alert the correct authorities. Must have slipped your mind.

Let me paint the picture in case you managed to forget…

Last Halloween, you and your friends had been attending a Halloween party. Your collective night off from saving the world. Oz, who didn’t appear to be wearing a costume, had explained it was a shindig and you had all enjoyed the live music and spooky theme. Even Buffy had managed to relax.

Buffy had chosen little red riding hood and Willow was dressed as a knight in historically accurate chainmail. Cordelia was a cat, it was the back-up she always had in case her first choice fell through. She had shrugged, at least she looked good in it. You had decided on a werewolf, after apologising profusely to Oz who didn’t appear phased.

Xander was walking around in a karate outfit, something about being inspired by the copious violence he enjoyed on screen. Every so often he did a karate chop in mid-air and you and your friends would share a collective eye roll. Especially when he chopped some jock guy that he spent the rest of the evening hiding from. Whereas Faith was wearing as little as possible and appeared to be dressed as herself.

The band was playing decent music and the atmosphere was electric. You and Buffy had danced together while Willow and Xander laughed by the punch bowl. Out of nowhere, Faith joined the both of you and muscled you out of the way to dance with Buffy. You rolled your eyes, but knew better than to make a fuss so you went back to your other friends and joined them in conversation.

Buffy had borrowed her Mom’s car and had sneaked out while Joyce was sleeping. Joyce had been feeling a little under the weather and hadn’t noticed. When it was time to leave, she drove (badly) through the streets to drop everyone home. Oz was doing another set and would get a ride with the rest of his band.

You were squished in the back with Cordy, Xander and Willow. Faith had called shotgun. There were more people than there should be, with Cordy sitting precariously on Xander’s lap. It meant you and Willow were crushed together sharing an annoyed look as the pair continued to kiss.

Buffy looked out of the side window for a nicer view and managed to hit something in the road. You all screamed as she broke suddenly. You had hit something. Something big. You all got out to investigate and saw that it was a man. You went and shook his shoulder and he immediately sat up and grabbed at you. His grip tight and strong. You screamed as you looked at his face, there were fangs and his face looked bumpy. The others saw it too and Buffy pulled you away as Faith moved in and staked him.

The man struggled for a moment before going still. Blood had started to run from his heart and the stake that had been stabbed through it. You all just stared.

“W-why isn’t he going poof?” Willow whispered as you all just stared in horror. He had been human after all.

“It was a costume!” You shrieked in horror. Everyone’s blood turned cold. 

“We’ll have to bury him” Faith said quickly. Xander stayed silent, his eyes glazed in fear.

“We can’t!” Buffy said firmly.

“Look, it’s that or another stint in juvey and I’m not goin’ back there” Faith muttered and you all frowned, having not realised she had ever been.

“I think we should see if he has any ID, maybe we could-” You started, Willow nodding along.

“No, Faith’s right. We bury him” Xander said suddenly.

“Who made you decision-gal?” Buffy said, her usual fun language lost on the moment as she stared through Faith.

“I’m a slayer too, B. You’re not the boss” Faith tilted her head to the side and shrugged. You paused, thinking it over for a while.

“Buff, we can’t risk it. You and Faith are needed here – we can’t go to prison” You sigh, not sure if you fully believed what you were saying.

“Th-that’s actually true…” Willow said eventually, not looking anyone in the eye. It was hurting her conscience.

But that’s what you decided. For better or worse. You were all complicit now as you put him in the trunk and buried him in the graveyard in the early hours of the morning.

Nobody spoke as the sun started to rise and the plot you had chosen was no longer vacant. It had been hard to come to terms with ever since.

Missing – have you seen this man?

Sunnydale Express, 1998. November 2nd.

Mr Bates of Sunnydale California has been missing since Halloween night. Last seen leaving a party in the early hours. His wife and children are anticipating his return, although with the current rate of people vanishing often with no trace the Express, with their condolences, fears that Mr Bates may be one of a hundred Sunnydale citizens on Halloween night that will never return to their families.

This begs the question, where are all the missing going? Sunnydale has one of the largest cases of missing persons never being found in the state of California and statistics suggest it has the highest number compared to towns in neighboring states.

It had been a few days and something had shifted. Your friend’s mood was lower than ever and you were really worried about her. The guilt was eating away at her. It was so bad she finally had to talk to someone about it. Buffy was the most outwardly guilty one of you all. Covering for this went against everything she believed in. Fought for. Which is why she was probably being targeted the most.

You closed your locker and jumped, she had been standing behind it, waiting for you to notice her. She gave you an apologetic glance but still asked, “Hey, y/n, can we talk?”

“Sure, I didn’t wanna go to English anyway” You smile at her as you walk to the usual place under the stairwell you would hide when you needed to talk. She pressed a note into your hand which you unfolded and read:

‘I know what you did last Halloween…’

You gasped, looking around before looking back at her for some kind of explanation, “It was in my history textbook, so, it might have been there for at least a month” Buffy said “Did you get one?” she whispered. You shook your head, nobody had left anything for you. You would remember. Buffy’s note struck a sense of fear you hadn’t felt since that night. A bubbling guilt that was squeezing your insides and threatening to spill them out. You had felt numb since then, unable to cry or even think about the events.

“We need to tell someone. Maybe Giles? I can see how much this is killing you, Buff…”  You say, trying to comfort your friend the best way you knew how.

“I know, I try and I try but I can’t tell him. He’ll get all moral and Giles-y”

“Maybe we need that. What we did was stupid, but still an accident. I wish I had never agreed with Faith” You muttered as Buffy nodded along silently. She wished you hadn’t agreed with Faith too, you had been the type people came with for answers. Advice. So you agreeing with Faith was probably the deciding vote. She told you she would meet you later and appeared to be in deep thought as she walked away.

Willow and Cordy looked spooked, sitting down silently during the break between classes. Their notes had fallen out of their lockers and they were afraid they had been seen picking them up. Buffy revealed to the others hers had said the same thing just as Xander ran in, very visibly panicking and checking behind him with every step he took.

He just slammed the note in the middle of the table without comment. He had nothing he could say. No jokes could mask the horror that came with

“That settles it. We go to Giles” Buffy said firmly. 

“No-” Xander tried to assert, but he was outvoted this time.

“We have to. He’ll help us, I know he will” You confirmed, “Walk home with me tonight, we’ll tell him then” This was to give you some time. None of you could face going to the library for the rest of the day.

The bell rang and it felt as if it were tolling for a funeral march. The walk to Giles’ house was slow. You had swung by Faith’s motel on your way, taking a detour as you explained you would have to tell him. She surprisingly didn’t put much of an argument against.

The door creaked open and you shouted to announce your presence. But when you get there, you felt it instantly. You dropped your bags and walked into the living room. Every step felt heavy and echoed around the room. 

There he was. On the floor. Surrounded in his own blood.

Your knees buckled and you had to steady yourself against the sofa. The blood-stained sofa. Someone’s arms held you up. There were gasps and mutters but your ears were ringing, you felt very far away. He was cold, his body mutilated.

It took you longer than the others to see the new centrepiece of the room. 

‘I know what you did last Halloween’ was written in what could only have been Giles’ blood smeared across the wall of his living room. It was your warning. Your note.

A warning that turned your stomach. Knocked you all sick. He was one of you and he was gone. You tuned back into the conversation around you after having stared at the words. The words meant for you. Every time you blinked, those words were now stamped into your vision.

“It’s the same thing that was written on the notes”

“Oh, I got one of those but I threw it in the trash” Faith shrugged, but she wavered. This was hard to look at.

“We’ll have to clean it up” Xander said flatly. Gesturing at the writing.

“What?! We can’t-”

“Xander Harris, your brain is barely functional anyway - but this is totally the worst thing that’s come out of your mouth!” She shouted, her voice getting higher as she continued, “I am not cleaning the bloody writing off our dead librarians wall!” She warned. They had broken up since everything had happened. Everyone collectively winced as she said Giles was dead. It hurt. It sliced too close to the bone. At least when it had been a stranger, there was some degree of separation. But now it was even worse. 

“They’ll know or start to look into it - we gotta do it” 

You stayed silent this time, every time someone’s eyes looked at you you kept your expression blank. Until you were handed a cloth and some bleach and you grimaced but followed the others. Cordy joined you, nodding her understanding at your blank look. She took the cloth and the liquid from your shaking hands and started to help with the clean up.

Teen scream

Sunnydale Express, October 1999.

Reports of a large number of young people are now rejecting the upcoming holiday in an attempt to preserve their lives. Many say that this is a kneejerk reaction and that many will lose out of the best years of their lives to fear – which is what the killer will want.

Despite this, there has been a curfew agreed amongst the young people of the town and the Mayor’s office, reports suggest. Time will tell if this will be kept or if it another attempt by those cautious to get a re-election rather than improving the spate of missing persons that has only doubled since the year previous.

You were all waking in a group. You couldn’t face staying at Giles’ place so you were going to stay over at Buffy’s for the night. There was still an argument going on around you that you weren’t listening to. Faith had lit up a cigarette and kept telling everyone to calm down. That nobody could know or people would be hauling you all off to jail. That you had chosen the right thing.

“I’m sick of you all, I’m going out. There’s a party down the block. Anyone coming?” She looks around. This, you had heard. You shrug, resigning yourself to it. You made plans based on alibis now. With this cynical thought, you manage to convince everyone else to come too. You never know, it might relax them.

...Or not. 

You and the others all sat around in silence as the bass, and Faith, jumped around you. You barely spoke, you just stared into your cups. There had been some hugging when you first left the house but since then you all felt so alone. So disconnected despite being in this together. What you had chosen to do didn’t feel right and without your constant, your compass that had been Giles you didn’t know what to do.

 “Hey, man, it’s not Halloween yet!” Someone shouted. It caught all of your attention. A collective feeling of dread. That had been before all of the screaming had started.

The figure loomed over you. Everything about him screamed menacing. He frightened you more than any demon. He was stood in a Grim reaper costume, complete with blood stained scythe. He turned, spotting you finally. He had been slicing kids down as he walked. He wasn’t aiming, just wildly enjoying the chaos he caused.

He stopped in the centre of the room, facing the group of you that had just risen to your feet. He pointed. He stood still and pointed at you all. The Scooby gang.

In that moment, you knew. You knew he was the one that was taunting you. And so did every one else.

“Well, one of us has a brief scythe of life” Buffy stated, “…and it isn’t me” She ran at him, her fists raised as Faith came up behind her. In the chaos it was hard to see what was happening, all you could feel was this descending feeling of foreboding. You knew it had happened before you saw it.

To be continued…

[bellemorte180]

Just Good Business

Caroline Salvatore, married into one of New York's most brutal crime families. Niklaus Mikaelson, a notorious mob boss who is hell bent on taking down the Slavatores.

It's an affair for the ages.

Written for Day 5 of Klarolin week- Smut.

Thank you, @klaroline-events!

She shouldn’t be doing this. She knew it was wrong, but she honestly didn’t care. She was a married woman and the man she was straddling in the back of his limo as it drifted down New York’s busy streets was most certainly not her husband. Granted, the life they all lived, what could be considered right anymore?

“Are you sure these windows are tinted?” Caroline hissed out, pushed down upon his clothed erection. It wasn’t the first time it happened. Her affair with New York’s most notorious mob boss began months ago. It started out as a power play for him and a way for her to try and feel something; anything. Neither one of them could have imagined that it would have become more than just sex for them. “Klaus?”

Niklaus Mikaelson, the most feared man in the entire city; one who ran not only drugs, weapons, and woman but had more blood on his hands than anyone else, was in love with her. It was an intoxicating feeling.

“I would never let us be seen, Sweetheart. Not yet at least.” Caroline smirked at him and kissed him hard; her teeth nipping at his bottom lip. Her hips rotated again, searching for some friction in order to relieve that pent-up tension she was feeling. It had been far too long since he had been able to touch her. It wasn’t easy for Caroline to sneak away in order to meet her lover, especially when she and her husband are well known in the city; that and in the last few months Stefan had been having her followed.

The marriage between Stefan and Caroline Salvatore was an arranged affair. They both came from very old families who wanted nothing more than an alliance. So, the corrupt Chief of Police married her only daughter to the brother of an even more corrupt "businessman". It did not take Caroline long to realize that her husband was dull, horrid in bed and was in love with his brother’s wife, Elena. Stefan looked at Caroline as nothing more than a possession and barely spoke to her.

Klaus’s finger tips traced up Caroline’s spine while her black backless dress bunched at her waist. His fingers sent shivers all over her body. When he went to lace his fingers through her impeccable up-do, Caroline stopped him.

“Not the hair. I can’t go home looking freshly fucked, now can I?” Caroline replied, nipping playfully at Klaus’s lips. “We still have to let Stefan think that I am his faithful and dutiful wife, don’t we?”

“I can have you widowed by morning, love. Just was the word.” Klaus replied, his hand slipping under her dress. His fingers graced her clit, her panties had been long forgotten on the limo’s floor. Caroline hissed out his name again. He added a slight pressure to that sensitive bundle of nerves just as his lips graced her throat. His tongue peeked out and licked her pulse point. “He would be dead and I could easily make you mine.”

“But your plans?” Caroline whimpered. Klaus slipped a finger inside of her and pumped lightly. Then he added a second finger before curling him, his nails scraping the side of her walls. His thumb touched her clitoris and began drawing circled on it while his fingers slowly fucked her.

“Fuck my plans.” Klaus hissed, his fingers pushed in roughly, causing Caroline to cry out. “I don’t like that he gets to touch you. I don’t like that he gets to fuck you when you’re mine. I want his head on a stick and my plans already changed once.”

It was true. When Klaus and Caroline started sleeping together, he was using her to get intel on the Salvatore family. He originally planned on revealing his affair with Caroline to Stefan in due time after getting everything he needed in order to take down Damon Salvatore. Caroline knew this and in truth she didn’t care. She hated her marriage and screwing over Stefan and Damon was enough for her; even if it meant getting herself killed.

However, when Klaus started falling for Caroline, he shifted his plans. He did not want to risk Stefan getting enraged that his wife was fucking his brother’s rival and killing her; they didn’t call Stefan the Ripper for nothing. So, they changed course.

“He hasn’t.” Caroline whimpered out, grinding down on Klaus’s fingers. He looked at her in question, a smirk playing upon his lips. “Stefan and I haven’t had sex in months, not since I caught him in bed with Elena.”

“Really?” Klaus hissed. He removed his fingers from her and Caroline cursed at him. He just grinned at her, bringing one finger to his lips and licked it clean before doing the same to the other. “You wouldn’t just be saying that so I will go easy on you, now would you?”

“No.” Caroline weaved her fingers through Klaus’s hair, gripped and pulled his head back. She looked down at him, peering into those pearly blue eyes she adored. He kissed him slowly, tasting her juices on his lips. “He said that he was glad I knew and that he didn’t have to pretend with me. He made his opinion very clear. Stay the pretty little wife on his arm while he fucked Damon’s behind closed doors. In return I get to keep my head upon my shoulders.”

“He threatened you.” That was unforgivable to Klaus. “The increase of bodyguards?”

“Just to ensure I don’t spend too much alone time with Damon. Can’t have his brother learning his dirty little secret.” Caroline tossed him a sinful smile and Klaus bucked his hips upward, rubbing roughly against her core. “Pity Enzo is employed by someone other than Stefan.”

“Good man Enzo.” Lorenzo St. John, Caroline’s personal bodyguard and double agent. Klaus hired him to infiltrate the Salvatore business. When he was assigned to guard Caroline, even better. The problem was that Enzo was only one of Caroline’s guards that was Klaus’s man; the rest where loyal to the Salvatore brothers. “And what are you and Enzo up to tonight?”

“Dress shopping.” Klaus chucked at that.

“Such a pretty dress.” His one hand running over the dress, touching her erect nipples through the silk. “It would be a shame if it got ruined.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Caroline ran her hands down Klaus’s chest, slowly inching down farther and farther. When she reached the top of his pants, she bit her lip as though asking for permission to continue. Klaus nodded his head and Caroline unbuttoned his pants, allowing his member to spring free. She palmed him, causing him to hiss at the contact. She gripped his penis and stroked him, picking up the pace as she went. Klaus grabbed her wrist, stalling her movements.

“I want to be inside you.” His tone was rough and harsh, causing Caroline’s arousal to seep down the inside of her legs. She lifted up on her knees ever so slightly, giving Klaus enough room to align himself with her entrance. Slowly, Caroline lowered herself down on top of him; seething him into her heat completely. “Fuck Caroline.”

“That’s the general idea.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and began raising herself up and down on top of him. The feel of him, sliding in and out of her was a feeling she missed the last few weeks. Ever since Caroline had concrete proof of Stefan’s affair, it was harder for her and Klaus to meet; Stefan’s paranoia driving him to do drastic things to protect his secret. But, the feel of Klaus fucking her was worth the wait. “God, I love you.”

“And I you.” Klaus’s hand reached down between her legs to touch her clit again. Caroline cried out his name, loudly. She began to ride him faster and faster, chasing that relief. His name slipping from his lips like a prayer. The sound of the honking horns of New York’s traffic fell away and she could care less if Klaus’s driver knew exactly what they were doing in the back of the limo. All that mattered was finding that release. “Klaus!”

Klaus felt her walls clench around him, sending him spiraling. His release came hard; spilling himself inside her. Caroline let out a long breath and rested her forehead against his. Slowly, once their hearts stopped beating rapidly, Caroline moved off of him and into the seat next to them. Klaus tucked himself away into his trousers while Caroline pulled a handkerchief from her purse to clean the inside of her thighs. She shifted in order to drape her legs over his lap and Klaus immediately began drawing small circles on her skin; sharing smiled between them as he did.

Soon enough the limo pulled to the side of the curb and the driver knocked on the window separating them from the front of the car.

“I suppose that this is my stop.”

“You’ll be safe?”

“Don’t worry.” Caroline leaned over and kissed him gently. “Damon is in a board meeting tonight” which was code for murdering someone “while Stefan and Elena are probably at the house fucking each other while I’m out spending Stefan’s money. By the time they realize I’m home, I’ll be in my bubble bath, drinking a nice glass of Pinot Grigio. Bags and bags of my shopping spree littering my room.”

“Thinking of me I hope, while you’re all naked and wet.” Klaus’s eyes traveled over the length of her and Caroline just giggled. She leaned up and kissed him, before grabbing her purse on the floor. Klaus grabbed her wrist before she could open the door. “Soon Caroline.”

In the end, things came to a close far more quickly than either of them expected. Within the next three months, Caroline would discover she was pregnant with Klaus’s child. Knowing that she would not be able to pawn the child off as Stefan’s, not that she would want to, Klaus had to act quickly. Photos of Stefan and Elena in an intimate position surfaced, causing Damon to go off the rails. He murdered both his brother and his wife, brutally. By the time Damon spared his sister in law a thought, she had already left and was in Klaus’s protection-handing over all of the secrets Damon worked hard to keep buried.

Damon was dead within the week.