#ezekiel raines

[aparasims]

Separately they are bad people, together they are even worse.

[muzarry]

Guys. Guys bear with me

Darirainekiel..........

[deadboystims]

ᯓ★ ┊ leokiel ( oc x canon ) board with green and blue dazecore(?) stims for @sigmxnd !!

1 , 2 , 3 ┊ 4 , 5 , 6 ┊ 7 , 8 , 9

[quotesfromscripture]

I will make a covenant of peace with them and rid the land of savage beasts so that they may live in the wilderness and sleep in the forests in safety. I will make them and the places surrounding my hill a blessing. I will send down showers in season; there will be showers of blessing.

Ezekiel 34:25-26 NIV (2011)

[scripture-pictures]

[tom4jc]

March 15, 2024 Memory Verse

[xmachinamedia]

NATIONAL WRITING DAY!

Excerpt from EX: I WANNA BE THE HERO - VOLUME I: PARTNERS

2:30 PM

Great Atlantean Marshlands – Paraloque Hills: A hilly region of the barren northwest Atlantean wildlands, a rare bit of land rising above the marshy sea level that dominates most of the 80,000 square mile stretch. Travelers note the hills to occasionally have lingering Dynasty Era architecture throughout the rolling greens; some believe this points to the hills formerly being one of the few colonized areas of the Great Marshlands.

Due to the more stable land and the ease of connection between Yelsin Highroad to the east and a general flat 700 mile stretch of plains leading to Playful Goblin Forest at the western outskirts, away from the marshes, it is a vital crossing point for the Great Atlantean Railroad for those seeking to traverse the wildlands without being attacked by the many savage monsters that roam the expanse of nature.

C-Rank Transport Magnet Train – Bessie: A standard-issue dual function passenger and supply train – several cabins are available for paying customers to utilize as the most reliable and rapid form of transportation between Neo Atlantis and Wavord; the quick connection also allows the train to ship decent amounts of electrical equipment, building supply, and finally tanks of ether for governmental use with its remaining carriages – making for six passenger cars and six convoy carriages where supplies are held.

Unfortunately, while a lower ranked vessel means a cheaper ticket, the seats fill up quickly in C-Rank trains… and occasionally, a very daring bandit or raider might not be scared off so easily as the typical wild animal or monster... and such is what happened on this very day, as a supervillain assailant felt keen on raiding the shipment for both supplies and ransom...

          “BWAAAAHAHAHAHAAA!!” The man cackled, the seven passengers and staff he had successfully rounded up amid the panicking masses all cowering before him and his bright red-and-yellow tights, a black-and-white mask obscuring the top half of his face – freeing up room for his scraggly beard attached only at the edges of his chin and his proudly bellowing laughter. “Ladies and gentlemen, kind citizens of the Atlantean continent and tourists alike, the mighty Bomberhead appreciates your patronage in foisting such a grand supply of ether across the wildlands! This energy will fuel my operations and funds alike for several months to come! I deeply appreciate it!”

            Bomberhead – Age 36, D-Rank supervillain – “The Explosive Bandit”: A small-time crook and bandit known for assaulting traveling convoys across Atlantis utilizing his ability to create small explosions. D-Ranked due to his ability being exceedingly limited, only able to cause lethal harm to a human with direct contact and generally lacking skill, always only narrowly evading Enforcer capture.

            A waiter from aboard the train spat out a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth and glared at Bomberhead. “Y-you idiot! How do you plan to haul the ether off the train?! Each of those ten tanks is almost six-thousand kilos apiece! I know you’re a super, but you aren’t exactly a strong one…”

            Having his grandiose speech interrupted sparked Bomberhead’s fury immediately as he rushed over to the waiter, indignance plastered across his mien. “How, DARE!”

            The back of his hand graced the young waiter’s cheek at high speed, sending some spit flying from the tied-up captive while a young woman tied up beside him screamed.

            “You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in! It matters not how I get the ether tanks off the train, what matters is that they’re mine now!”

            “Not very strong… lemme add not very bright to that as well.” The waiter growled, earning another slap across the cheek.

            “I appreciate your concern.” Bomberhead sarcastically grumbled, stuffing the hankie back into the waiter’s mouth. “But I do have a plan, to your likely shock. As soon as I decouple this train car, some of my ‘associates’ will arrive, recouple the train from behind, and guide us deeper into the Eastern Wavord Wildlands – where, once we’re far enough in the forest, we’ll have you, our captives in the event of Enforcer interference… earn your keep by assisting us in unloading and selling these tanks.”

            The young woman wailed once more, tears streaming from her eyes.

            “Sheesh, she’s a loud bird.” Bomberhead grumbled, looking annoyed. “I can’t even explain my evil plan without an interruption now?! What next?”

            Just then, the door in the back was kicked down, and Bomberhead slapped his forehead as soon as he sensed a pair of auras enter through them – clearly not the armed gunmen he had explicit measures to deal with. No, this was a pair of supers; Enforcers, inevitably. Suddenly, his foolproof plan felt like it had a major hole as he asked himself; “Why didn’t I check for any Enforcers possibly running guard duty…?!”

            Immediately, the blond haired one took center stage, proudly grinning before Bomberhead with his young lantern jaw on full display.

            “Sorry, Bomberhead, but you won’t be hijacking any transport vessels today.” Ezekiel bellowed with a wide grin. “I suggest you surrender, before your plan explodes in your face.”

            Buster, close behind, only groaned and slammed his palm upon his face. Bomberhead meanwhile, looked less than pleased to be so rudely interrupted, leaping from his perch atop a glowing ether barrel to growl at the two. “I guess I should’ve expected interruptions, but a pair of Enforcer brats won’t be too much trouble…”

            Buster quickly darted to Bomberhead’s left, faster than the villain could react, and cut the hostages free with a swipe of the sword, Zeke in the meantime flinging his staff in a grand flourish at Bomberhead’s skull – an attack Bomberhead felt keen on giving a solid punch to the stomach as a response. Zeke flew back with a yell, slamming into the doorway above the fleeing hostages while Buster darted at Bomberhead, taking a wide, obvious downward swing at the villain that dug into the carpet and steel of the train. Bomberhead yelped seeing the size of the blade.

            “Sheesh! Is that a sword or an oversized butcher knife?!”

            Buster strained as he pulled the sword free from where it gored into the train floor, stumbling back, and falling on his rear. “Gah!”

            “…Well at least it seems size isn’t a problem for just me either. You compensating for something there, kid?” Bomberhead sneered – just as Zeke flung himself over Buster and charged again, staff at the ready.

            “Leave him to me, Buster!” Zeke bellowed, jabbing three areas across his right, staff-holding arm with his free left thumb. A burst of light emanated from Zeke’s body as he charged, Bomberhead instantly feeling a sense of apprehension as the young ward closed in.

            “Uh oh..!” Bomberhead raised his arms in defense, bracing his body for impact as Zeke roared, swinging the staff at full force into Bomberhead’s ribs.

            Pressure Surge – Overwhelm: A Boost Art that briefly drastically enhances physical capabilities for a singular strike or a duration of time, at the cost of the user having a fraction of the overall impact rebound back upon them, with a greater recoil based on how long and how fierce their exertion. The surge also inherently bolsters the concussive force of one’s attacks, making them possess greater launching power and general intensity. Should the situation call for it, Ezekiel can put more overall launching power into the blow rather than raw strength, minimizing damage recoil and allowing his attacks to launch his adversaries easily.

            “HYEEEEEHH!!”

            PONG!!

          “Gh--!!” Bomberhead choked out, tumbling head over heels into the floor. Buster struggled to his feet as Zeke bashed the villain thrice across the chest, the shoulders, and finally the cheek, dazing the madman.

            “And now…!” Zeke said with a prideful grin. “The coup de grace!!”

            Rushing forward with his staff primed, Bomberhead regained his focus briefly to feel the edge of the pole bore into his chest, taking his legs from the ground and sending the air rocketing from his lungs as Zeke drove him into a nearby wall with a powerful roar.

            THUD!

          Buster was only beginning to stand back up when the train lurched to the side, Bomberhead collapsing to his knees as he spat out a puddle of saliva alongside the air in his lungs with a gurgle, unable to fight back any longer. With him slumping down in defeat, the train too bounced back into place on the tracks.

            And then, silence. Zeke stood tall and triumphant, grinning from ear to ear in victory.

            “HAHA!” He cheered, pumping a fist up. “A stellar performance from yours truly, the Enforcer to define the next generation, Mr. Ezekiel Reis!” He proudly bellowed at Buster finally got to his feet, dizzy and gurgling from nausea. “I truly am the embodiment of Enforcer honor.”

            “Y-yeah, awesome, Zeke… now can you point me to a bucket…? I think I’m gonna hurl…”

            Zeke, however, was busy still flaunting his success as Buster fully got himself upright, looking down at Bomberhead as the villain began crawling toward the ether tanks… a small, malicious chuckle in his voice as he did.

            “At this rate, I won’t just be an Elite, but I’ll be worthy of Kingslayer… man, I can’t wait to tell dad about this!” He giggled to himself as Bomberhead finally reached the tanks behind him.

            Now, Buster’s mind was still very scattered thanks to his amnesia. He was forgetful, prone to tripping, and generally absentminded. But even he could sometimes get a twinge – be it in training when he’d suddenly pummel one of those annoying surfer dudes in a random flash of brilliance, or sudden lucidity out of nowhere that ends as fast as it happens… Buster sometimes can just catch on to things even Zeke doesn’t.

            And here… something caused that to happen as soon as he saw Bomberhead reach the ether canisters, and the villainous name began to repeat itself in his mind more and more… going from a faint whisper to a roaring yell.

            “…Zeke…?” Buster nervously called out.

            “I wonder how that snotnose Wade and his Surf Rat goons will feel about this, when he learns we could take down a supervillain on our own…” Zeke sneered to himself, laughing away as Bomberhead… Bomberhead… Bomberhead began to rear back…

            “ZEKE!!” Buster screamed, tackling his friend into the back car suddenly as Bomberhead suddenly slammed his skull into the canisters.

            X-Ability: Mindblowing!! – Bomberhead’s personal X-Ability, suited for an Ether Type whose powers center on the mind and concentration. Any time he focuses on his cranium, he can generate a powerful explosive aura that simultaneously shields him – creating dangerously explosive headbutts. He can use this with other parts of his body, but his head generates by far the most powerful and lethal explosion.

BOOM!!

2:35 PM

          Wavord Enforcers Miniship – A small-scale aerial vessel built for flying short distances across the wildlands. Built to transport only three to four passengers at once to deploy Enforcers across the continent. Fuel-efficient, but rather cramped and lacking in more innovative tech due to budget cuts.

            They had been following this train for a good three hours, at the orders of the Jr. Enforcer who took up this job. Why he didn’t just join the two others who already accepted the mission on the train, neither the pilot nor his assistant knew. But it seemed that might’ve been a good choice, considering what they were witnessing now – a burning cargo train hurtling along the tracks, its roof completely stripped and every ether canister within it demolished, freshly detonated with three bodies surrounding the exploded rubble, each of them stirring, alive, but clearly groggy aboard the flaming platform.

“Closing in on the assailed train!” The pilot called back to the passenger, clicking away at the radar. “SOS went out five minutes ago! Seems we’re just a little too late – even though your hunch was right.”

            “Tch. I knew that shipment was too easy a target… and leave it to Reis to screw it all up.” A young man with long, black hair swore under his breath from the passenger’s cabin, shaking his head as chains jingled in his hands. He wore a raggedy black cloak over an equally black shirt and a pair of gray denim jeans, each of his wrists bound in a spiked collar. Even in the darkness of the passenger’s cabin, one could see dark circles around both his eyes, striking upon his pale skin. “Close in as low as you can. I’ll take care of the perp from there… as well as any backup he might have.”

            Varicose Armess – 17 years old, C-Rank Jr. Enforcer: A grim and dour young Chaos Type superhuman, known infamously for using a pair of chained sickles and over 108 poisons he managed to infuse into his very aura itself, creating an immunity for himself and a perpetual threat for every enemy he faces.

            X-Ability: Cursed Rot – A nasty X-Ability wherein the user utilizes poisons and other curses to steadily wear down the enemy for a fatal finishing strike. Limited only by the number of poisons the wielder is willing to inoculate their body to (and thus absorb into their aura), and the fact that full contact and piercing must occur to apply the various techniques and their effects.

            “Yessir, Jr. Commando Varicose!” The pilot replied, lowering the ship toward the burning train.

            Varicose, the passenger, gnashed his teeth and shook his head again, growling. “Mr. Hero just had to go and cock this up…” He grumbled under his breath as he rose, the chains he held dragging along a pair of sickles attached to each end. Varicose quietly breathed in, preparing himself as he marched toward the steadily opening backdoor, wind suddenly whipping away at the interior cabin.

            “You’re clear to jump!” The pilot called out – and just as he did, Varicose leapt from the doorway, landing squarely upon the burning train between a completely unconscious Ezekiel, and a stirring Buster Raine, just as Bomberhead fully rose to his feet with a cackle.

            “HAH! Little fools didn’t seem to remember my name!” He cheered seeing Ezekiel down… only to look up and see Varicose standing right beside the supine young Enforcer, a sickle in each hand and a very, very bored expression on his face. “…Ah, brilliant.”

            Varicose sighed. “Now that the idiot is too unconscious to screw this up, you’re under arrest. Please, make this easy for me, will ya?"

            “As if! I’m never gonna be taken alive by you snotnose enfor—” Bomberhead couldn’t even finish his sentence before Varicose flung a sickle his way; the villain quickly ducking down as the blade grazed his cheek and curved back into Varicose’s hand. Bomberhead smirked evilly as he brushed off the miniscule cut. “Hah! Nice try, punk!”

            Varicose simply raised his eyebrow and smiled.

            Bomberhead’s smile was maintained… and held… and held, the villain going completely silent as he stood frozen like a statue. Buster had finally fully awoken to see the scene and Varicose standing there, having sheathed his sickles and now just letting his dark hair flap along wildly in the wind. Zeke too, finally began to stir as he too, saw the scene before him, and Varicose as well, who only gave the young ward a dismissive glare.

            “Reis. How unsurprising to see you involved with this mess.”

            Zeke nervously laughed, seeing the canisters detonated behind the frozen Bomberhead and  putting two and two together. “Heheh… maybe I should keep the bad guy’s name in mind next time…” He mumbled.

            Buster coughed, pulling himself to his feet and clinging to a still-attached bit of wall and railing at the front of the train car and taking some deep breaths while he asked: “What’d you do to him, anyway? He’s gone completely still and hasn’t said anything since your sickle missed him…”

            “Oh, this?” Varicose pointed to the frozen Bomberhead and proceeded to march over to the statue-like stance of the madman. “This is an Art of mine, rookie. You’ll pick up a few as you begin to master your X-Ability. I call this Cursed Rot – Medusa’s Glare. Freezes whoever is affected by its poison for a solid minute at minimum… and that’s against supers. If I used it against a normal human, well… it’s called Medusa’s Glare for a reason.”

            Just as he finished explaining, he then socked the frozen Bomberhead in the stomach, the villain suddenly returning to cognizance and wheezing as he fell to a knee again, this time passing out from the pain on the spot – mission accomplished.

            Zeke looked on in bitter failure as Varicose shook his head. “Very weak villain y’all got here, though. I mean, seriously, Ezekiel. Even you should’ve crushed this loser.”

3:10 PM

          Lucane, Atlantis: A small wildland town at the apex of the Atlantean continent – and one of the few major settlements on the grand road toward Kelp Port and Neo Atlantis beyond it, the grandiose capital atop the ocean waves.

            While there is little to speak of in the small town, save its scenic cliffs to the north overlooking the sea, it is nonetheless often considered a nostalgic, comfortable stop amid the dangerous marshes, and also a crucial pit stop for trains making the long journey toward Neo Atlantis.

            Miraculously, the train arrived on time, and the terrified passengers were granted reprieve, free food, and a guaranteed ticket on a more secure train toward Neo Atlantis.

            The mission, however, couldn’t have been a more colossal failure… sans the capture of Bomberhead. Varicose Armess was given many a cheer and proud pat on the back by other Enforcers and local police once they pulled into Lucane with Bomberhead in tow. Zeke and Buster, however, sat blackened with soot in the exploded car, only able to endure quiet sneers and jeers from local enforcement.

            “Another day, another failure, eh One Chop?” A policeman cackled at Zeke.

            “I would have simply remembered the bad guy’s name…” Another chuckled.

            “Senator Reis must be a little tired of seeing his son on the news…” One more giggled.

            Buster shook his head, still rubbing some soot off his face as he gazed out at the sun, steadily approaching its setting time amid the frigid winter day. “We really botched that one, dude.”

            Ezekiel, however, was seemingly unbothered by both the freezing air and his abject failure. Nay, he flipped through the paper he picked up earlier with a proud smile, shaking his head. “No need to worry about what we can’t change B. We’ve still got a match to catch tonight�� and I think I already know our next mission.”

            Buster raised an eyebrow as Zeke continued his flitting, smiling. “Really…?” He asked, before shaking his head too. “Don’t answer that. I can tell you’ve already got something cooked up.”

            To that, Zeke nodded proudly. “You bet your behind, I do. An Enforcer’s always gotta be quick to take any opportunity.” He said as he found the page at last and put it before Buster’s eyes. “Check this out, B. We nab this guy… and I’m sure we’ll be one step closer to Elite status… and investigating your lost memories.”

            Buster took the magazine with a shrug, reading the page over before nodding.

            “The Junker, huh?”          “Uh-huh!” Zeke nodded proudly. “When we snatch him, and I promise, we won’t just be on route to recovering your memories, but we’ll be hailed as heroes for years to come. Bet on it!”

Excerpt of Volume I - Partners; Available now on Amazon and Kindle! (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BWPF1CQP)

[pupsmailbox]

SPIDERMAN ID PACK

NAMES︰ aaron. abis. achira. ai. aison. andrew. apce. arachne. araignee. aranea. aranha. arácnido. bailey. benjamin. boas. boaz. boots. bruce. bryce. cancor. castor. charlie. comix. constance. cooper. dmitri. drew. dusk. einstein. emer. estella. eugene. eurina. ezekiel. fleda. gagamba. gerald. harold. harry. hobart. hobie. kansan. kona. kongulo. kumo. lawrence. lokni. mac. macdonald. marc. martha. mattie. max. maxwell. merimange. michelle. mig-el. miguel. miles. mj. morgan. neptune. norman. ocho. octavia. ohnn. otto. patton. pavitr. peni. peter. piguel. pluto. poise. pseter. punk. ragno. raine. ricochet. rio. salem. scarlet. screwball. SP//DER. spidair. spinner. stacy. sunflower. sunny. takuya. taranto. tarantula. toby. tom. toxin. twix. uttu. webbler. william. wolf.

PRONOUNS︰ arach/arachnid. atom/atom.fast/fast. bit/bite. brew/brew. byte/byte. drop/drop. fan/fantastic. hazard/hazard. hero/heroe. lego/lego. mech/mech. nuc/nuclear. rad/radioactive. sense/sense. silk/silk. speed/speed. spi/der. spider/spider. spider/spidey. spin/spin. star/star. stick/sticky. synth/synth. ve/venom. weave/weave. web/web. widow/widow. ☢️/☢️. ☣️/☣️. 🔆/🔆. 🕷️/🕷️. 🕸️/🕸️.

[crazycoke-addict]

Island of the slaughtered assumption.

1. It was pouring down rain when Tyler died.

2. The killer lied to Courtney into believe she had freedom but took that away from her.

3. Since the killer saw Heather pretty. They delicately lifted her head making sure that nothing happens with it.

4. Katie was not only traumatised for what happened to Sadie. But she felt numb after seeing Geoff and Owen.

5. When Duncan and Noah were fighting, I think it probably started Noah made a sarcastic comment (seeing it as that's how Noah deals with things) and Duncan told him to be serious.

6. When Ezekiel saw the killer, he thought it was an actor that's part of the challenge for the show.

7. Heather would be the most realistic. When somebody has this hope that they may get help. Heather would shut them down.

8. Since it still follows like how the show is them being part of reality show. The cameras would have recorded everything.

9. Owen most likely died from shock since he was alive while the killer was sewing Geoff's head on him.

[im-just-a-mississippi-girl]

Your Biker in Worn Leather

Pairing: EZ Reyes x female!reader

Category: Angst/Comfort

Word count: 353

Summary: You call EZ to pick you up and his temper goes through the roof at the state you’re in.

Warnings: Mentions of cuts, scratches, and bruises

Part 2

Masterlist

Taglist

Gif is not mine. Credit to owner.

“Can you please come and get me?” Those words played on loop in EZ’s head, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared voice out of his head. You didn’t tell him what happened or if you were hurt, only where to pick you up from.

Ezekiel was quick to jump on his bike and speed to your location. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, mind racing a mile a second thinking about all the possible scenarios you could be in. By the time EZ finally found you on the side of the street, it was pouring rain and you had no rain coat or umbrella to shield you. As EZ took off his helmet and goggles, he noticed you were shaking and that’s when you immediately raced towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and clinging to him for dear life, not giving him the chance to get off his bike. EZ’s arms instinctively enveloped you in a tight embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. Neither one of you cared that you were getting drenched and could possibly end up with a cold tomorrow. You needed him, his safety, his protection, and you needed him as close as possible. EZ allowed the hug to last a few more moments. “Let’s get you dry, okay?” He spoke softly, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his shoulder before pulling yourself out of his arms. As you did so, EZ caught sight of the state you were in, a busted lip, bruises decorating your arms, and a red cheek. EZ’s blood boiled more and more as he saw each bruise, scratch, and cut littering your body. “Who did this to you?” He blurted out, causing you to jump at his stern tone and clenched jaw. The movement didn’t go unnoticed. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I didn’t mean to scare you. Do you know who did this to you?” He apologized before asking again, this time in a calmer tone.

You knew exactly who did this, and you knew EZ would revel in setting the score.

General Taglist: @kmc1989

EZ Reyes Taglist: @zaenight

[aparasims]

Ezekiel Raines "If you spent your whole life working For world that feeds on doubt Let the water wash away your sins And those banks keep getting bigger While your pockets empty out Let the water wash away your sins"

[midnight-talescape]

𝒜𝓅𝒽𝓇𝑜𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒾𝒶𝒸 (𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 13: Size difference + Heartbeat

They’re very much implied okay, there are very few people who is larger then Miguel mkay?

But like yeah this man totally gaslighted you, also like soft Miguel. Wanted to try something different, no im not just bad.

Warning: Size difference, gaslighting, ooc, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2315

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Your boss is hot.

Like really really hot and like a super nice person.

The last time you said this out loud, a few of the other spiders looked at you like you were crazy, while Jessica just laughed and said,

“I can't deny the fact that he’s hot, but a nice person?”

You open your mouth ready to defend your boss’s honor when your spider sense tingles.

“What are you guys doing here?” came a cold voice behind you,

Almost immediately everyone dispersed, within seconds until it was just you and Jessica that's still standing in front of Miguel.

“Boss!” You yelled excitedly before dive-bombing into his chest,

Miguel automatically caught you in his arm, your body nearly disappearing into his body as he wrapped his arm around you, saying gruffly,

“Stop doing that, little spider.”

You closed your eyes, smushing your face onto his pecs.

“But your hug is so nice, boss… I can stop if you don't like it…” you sound a little disappointed and begin to let go of Miguel,

With a sigh, Miguel pushed you back into his arm and tightened his hold on you,

“Fine, you can keep hugging me… just… just don't make this into a regular thing…”

Jessica raised her eyes as she saw the scene unfold in front of her, she could have sworn she just saw something like possessiveness in Miguel’s eyes.

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You like your boss.

Not in a lovey-dove way, god no…

At least you don't think it's in a lovey-dovey way.

He’s just so pretty and… and… he’s just so pretty and hot! Like look at him!

You used to be able to ignore it because of how scared of him you were.

Then like you saw him one time. One fucking time! Looking at the video of him and his daughter, looking super sad, kinda like a giant sick puppy left in the rain horrible example Your brain was immediately overtaken with the thought,

I can fix him!

Ezekiel said your instinct to want to cure people of their sadness, or quote on quote fix people, stems from the fact that you wish someone fixed your younger self or something like that.

You stopped listening after the first 2 lines, already on your way to hug Miguel.

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Miguel's attempt to stop you from hugging him was futile.

You were quite stubborn and you have concluded that the man is touch-starved. So it's only natural that you made it your mission to make your boss feel loved.

Your conclusion is correct as Miguel seems to get softer with you as time goes on.

This shocks Peter to no end, and after hearing your conclusion of Miguel being touched starved, immediately attempts to hug Miguel.

He had to go to the nurse after Miguel threw him through a wall in surprise.

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

You were talking to one of the spider people when you received a notification from your watch that Miguel wanted you in his office.

You hastily said goodbye before swinging your way to Miguel’s office.

A few minutes later you arrived in front of his office and knocked on the door.

There was no answer and after a few minutes of waiting you got a little worried, you could have sworn you heard someone groaning in there.

In a split second, you burst through the door and nearly had a heart attack when you saw Miguel curled up on the floor.

“Boss! Are you okay?!”

“C-close the door…fuck!” Miguel groaned out, his face flushing pink,

You quickly slammed the door shut and kneeled next to Miguel.

“Shit! Boss, are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” You rambled on nervously as you held Miguel up in your arms,

Miguel groaned into your arm as he tried to get up,

”I’m fine, little spider,” Miguel managed between labored breaths, “I accidentally injected myself with some aphrodisiac, the vial wasn't labeled…”

Your eyes widen in alarm as he said that, finally noticing the shattered vial near Miguel,

“Will you be okay, boss? Do you need me to take you to the infirmary? What's an aphrodisiac?!”

Miguel coughed before looking up at you, a faint blush barely visible on his tan face as he stopped you from dragging him out the door,

“N-no, wait! It's- it's best if I don't go to the infirmary for this…”

You stopped and blinked slowly as you looked at him questioningly.

“Aphrodisiac is a chemical substance that… increases sexual desire and arousal. I would rather not go to the infirmary for this…” Miguel explained as his face burned in embarrassment,

“O-oh…” you said quietly as you froze and finally noticed the bulge in Miguel’s suit,

Noticing your rigid body, Miguel's voice was hoarse as he said,

“I know this is going to sound bad, but… do you think you can help me with my… problem?”

“W-what?” You spluttered out confused,

“I know it's an abrupt request and highly unprofessional, but you will help me right, little spider?” Miguel looked up at you, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat,

Any question you have regarding why was there aphrodisiacs in his office, and hesitation was immediately thrown out the window when Miguel looked at you.

Your boss is asking you to help him! Your beautiful, sexy, walking dilf of a man, dominating boss who never asks for help is asking you for help!

Who can say no to a beautiful sexy hunk like him?! WHO CAN?!

You sure as hell can’t.

Almost immediately you nodded your head,

“Y-yes…of course! Anything to help you, boss….” you said your mind completely dazed from the fact that your sexy boss was asking you for help,

“I knew I could trust you, little spider…” Miguel said as he wrapped his arm around you tightly, a dark look in his eyes that screamed danger, "You're going to help me with all my problems, aren't you?"

You nodded your head, not fully understanding what you had just agreed to…

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Your eyes sting with tears as you try not to gag on Miguel’s cock. Desperately relaxing your throat as Miguel grabbed your hair and deepthroated you.

You could feel your throat stretching around Miguel's cock, saliva that you can't swallow dripped down your chin and onto the floor as Miguel roughly fuck your throat.

Miguel kept pushing you down onto his cock, forcing you to take more of his length. Your lips were taut as you worked around his thick girth, the sensation of his cock forcing its way deeper into your mouth causing tears to fall from your eyes. Your mind was dazed and blurry from the taste and smell of Miguel that seemed to surround you.

"F-fuck! Little spider, you were made for this…" Miguel groaned as he felt your tongue wrapped around his cock, your face red with effort,

You out a loud gasp as Miguel forced his entire cock into your throat, groaning as your gasp send tiny vibration up his cock.

Grunting, Miguel wiped away your tears before wrapping his hand around your throat.

You let out a cry as he gripped tightly around his cock through your throat, your throat raw from the rough way he was thrusting into you.

"You're doing so well, little spider…" Miguel groaned as he looked down at your teary face,

You look so fucking beautiful with your face red, tears running down your face, and your mouth stuffed full of his cock.

With a grunt, he reached his climax and shot his cum into your throat.

You instinctively tried to back away when you felt Miguel cumming inside your mouth, but Miguel forced your head to stay still, grunting as he said,

“Stay still for me, little spider. Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your eyes as you forced yourself to stay still, you can feel the thick stream of cum filling you up.

After a few minutes, Miguel removed his cock from your throat, leaving you coughing and spluttering.

Tilting your head up, Miguel wiped away the cum that you couldn't swallow before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“You did great, Cariño…”

You looked up at him your mind still a little dazed with a single question on your mind,

“A-Are you feeling better, boss?”

Hearing your question, Miguel groaned as he felt himself harden again.

Fuck, she will be the death of me one day

Miguel lowered his eyes and lifted you onto his lap, before saying calmly,

“I'm afraid that wasn't enough, little spider… Do you trust me?”

Shivering you nodded your head.

Your boss will never lie to you, right?

“This will be a little painful, so hold on okay, little spider?” Miguel said before pushing you down onto his cock,

Your cries of agony echoed through the room as Miguel thrust into you, your body being stretched open on his cock.

Your cunt stretching painfully taunt around his cock, to the point where it looks opaque and ready to tear at any moment.

With each thrust, you could feel your insides stretching around his cock, stretching farther than they ever had before. Miguel's hands were tight around your hips as he kept your shaking body still, as he ignored your cry of agony and fucked into your tiny body.

It was more than painful, it felt like he was ripping your body apart with his cock. Your body ached, and your eyes were glassy from crying. Your cunt tightened around Miguel's cock as he continued his brutal assault on your body.

You let out a scream as you came onto his cock, Miguel grunt as he felt your wall tighten to a point its hard for him to move.

“F-fuck… relax a little, Cariño… you’re too fucking tight… shit I forgot how tiny you are compared to me…” Miguel panted into your ears as he plunge his cock farther and farther into you,

“S-stop, boss…haaaa… it hurts… I’m full!” You cried out desperately,

Miguel tightened his grip on your waist, his claw digging into your skin as he growled,

“Call me by my name, little spider…”

You clawed at his back leaving behind claw mark as you cried out again,

“M-miguel! P-please! I'm so full, t-too big!”

Satisfied Miguel slowed down a little allowing you to adjust as he kissed your neck and shoulder, leaving behind bruise and bite mark.

“And yet, you’re doing such a great job taking in my cock, my sweet spider…”

Your mouth opens moaning loudly as the pain subsides into pleasure.

“M-Miguel…t-too fast… i-im gonna cum…g-gonna cum again…” you babbled out your body covered in your slick and sweat,

Miguel's lip curled into a snarl as he began thrusting into you faster,

“Cum for me, little spider… Give yourself to me…” he dug his fang into your neck,

Your back arched and your mouth opened into a silent scream as you came into an agonizing high, your body shaking violently.

Pushing you onto his chest, Miguel slid his hand down your body to your ass, kneading it gently as your body shudder from your orgasm.

“H-hurt… it hurt… Miguel… no more…”

Miguel kissed your head as he ignored your pleas ramming into your body roughly as he tried to comfort you,

“Shhh, it's okay you can take so much more, little spider… just focus on me…fuck you’re tight…”

Panting you leaned your head against Miguel's chest, desperately trying to focus on his erratic heartbeat as he fuck you.

With a growl and a final brutal thrust, Miguel came inside you, filling your body with his cum.

Your leg shakes as he cum inside you, painting your wall white and you groan as you felt your stomach bloated out.

“Gonna stuff you with my cum, little spider… I will make you mine…” Miguel panted into your ears not even bothering to stop as his cock harden once more,

Picking you up and earning a gasp from you, he slammed you into the window. Miguel grabbed both of your legs and hooked them onto his shoulders, forcing you into a mating press before slamming into you deeper than before.

“Haaaaa… M-miguel stop… p-people will see…” you cried out trying to push him away from you,

“Then let them see, let them see who you belong to…” Miguel pushes down on the bulge in your stomach causing you to lose all your thought process, as you orgasm for the 6th time this night,

Miguel tilts your head up pulling you into a kiss and forcing you to kiss back.

“Say you love me, my little spider… say you love me…”

You couldn't hear what he was saying as your mind was just so fucked. Unhappy with your silence, Miguel dug his claw into your ass and grind his dick against your g-spot.

Your eyes flew open and you let out a loud cry,

“I-i love you… Miguel, I love you… please stop!”

“Good girl…” Miguel practically purred out as his pace got more and more brutal,

He's not letting you go, not until your soul, body, and heart all belong to him…

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Miguel snarled as he saw you talking to one of the spider person.

You belong to him and no one else, how dare your attention be on anyone but him?

You don't love him, he can tell.

You don't love anyone.

The report Ezekiel gave him clearly stated your inability to feel love for anyone or anything, only the ability to fake it.

It doesn't matter, he will be the closest thing to love you will ever feel.

He will make sure of it…

He grabbed a vial of aphrodisiac he got and injected it into him, before picking up his watch and messaging you,

Come to my office immediately…

[kinderartifact4]

Wings of Fire AU Assigned Tribes: Gen 1

I’m redoing my Assigned Tribes post for my WoF AU because I’ve gotten used to separating my list posts by gens/casts

-

-

-

Noah- Rain/Sand

Owen- Sea/Mud

Cody- Sand/Silk

Duncan- Sand/Night/Hive

Tyler- SkyWing

Izzy- LeafWing

(A pyromaniac LeafWing is ironic and I like it)

Eva- Night/Mud

Bridgette- SeaWing

Justin- Silk/Rain

Alejandro- Sand/Sky

Heather- IceWing

Courtney- RainWing

Sierra- Rain/Mud

Geoff- Rain/Sky

Gwen- Ice/Night

Trent- Night/Leaf

Ezekiel- HiveWing

(Given his upbringing and the vibes HiveWings have, I’d say it fits)

Leshawna- Mud/Hive

Sadie- Mud/Silk

Katie- Silk/Hive or Rain/Hive

(Open to other suggestions)

Harold- Rain/Sea

Beth- HiveWing

(Open to other suggestions)

(Maybe half something else)

Lindsay- Rain/Silk

(Open to other suggestions)

DJ- MudWing

(Fireproof)

(Tusks maybe?)

[whumpninja]

Third piece! I’m catching up! This one features Annabel from my running series The Coven- it’s set decades before the main story, before the girls even meet up and way before Will is ever involved.

Taglist (let me know if you only want to be tagged in full chapters!): @fabled-whump @scatteriskity @ba-bhump

Prompt used: Whumptober, wrongfully arrested

Featuring: this might count as horror???, Annabel is a scary lady, historical whump, vampire whumper, wrongful arrest, chains, gunshot wound, fade to black murder/blood drinking, CHARACTERS DIE IN THIS LOOK OUT

Whumptober Day Three: rosemary

She was a very old woman, in her eighties at the very least. Ezekiel felt a twinge of guilt at the idea of arresting her. But the simple fact was that people were dying of a strange sickness, and when a strange sickness fell on a village, the answer was usually witchcraft. And old women who lived alone...well. They were always witches, weren't they?

Zechariah rapped hard on the old woman's door. "Widow Rosemary!" he called out in an officious voice. "Open thy door! We are from the village militia- we would have words with thee!"

The quavering voice of the widow replied from inside. "Oh, dear- I'm coming, sirs. Just give me a moment to stir my old bones. Oh, dearie me!"

"Hast thou the chains, Ezekiel?" Zechariah said in a low voice. In answer, Ezekiel held up a pair of slightly rusted irons.

The door creaked open. The widow peered out, squinting at the visitors. "Oh, my," she mumbled. "Yes, how can I help you, sirs?"

Ezekiel nudged Zechariah, who held up a parchment and declared, "Widow Rosemary, you are-"

"Just call me Annabel, dear." The widow chuckled.

"Er- Widow Annabel, you are hereby placed under arrest for-"

"Eh?" The old woman cupped a hand to her ear. "Speak up, young feller, I don't hear as well as I used to."

"Witchcraft!" shouted Zechariah, beginning to go a bit red in the face. "The crime of witchcraft! You are under arrest!"

Annabel tilted her head. "Witchcraft? Me? Oh, sirs, I am merely a healer. I do not practice black magic! I only use innocent herbs and potions and the like."

"That's for the council to decide," Ezekiel replied. "Will you come quietly, grandmother? We do not wish to cause a disturbance."

She seemed confused; glancing around her little hovel. "W-well, I- if it is necessary- oh, dear, what about my- I suppose-"

"Hands, Granny," broke in Zechariah, snatching the chains from Ezekiel.

The poor woman went rather pale. "Oh, oh my," she stammered. "I- what are those made of?"

"Iron, of course," replied Zechariah, seizing her hands rather roughly. "Did thee expect solid gold?”

"Zechariah, she be an elder!" Ezekiel hissed. "Here, let me." He elbowed the older man out of the way. "Sorry about this, Widow Rosemary."

The old woman's lip quivered as he secured the irons around her frail, blue-veined wrists. She glanced up at the sky. "Oh, 'tis so grey today- looks as though it might rain, could I fetch my shawl-"

"We haven't time!" Zechariah took her by the arm. Reluctantly, Ezekiel did the same with her other arm.

It was slow going to the village jail. The old woman tottered and trembled and stopped multiple times to tell them about her rheumatism. The villagers, having heard that there was to be an arrest, came out of their houses to watch. Poor Widow Rosemary looked so ashamed that Ezekiel wanted to shout at them all to go back inside.

Finally, they reached the jail, and Ezekiel took the irons off. Zechariah pushed the old woman into a cell and slammed the door.

She glanced around worriedly. "'Tis terribly drafty, isn't it? How long shall I have to stay here?"

"Until the council discerns whether or not thou art a witch," Zechariah replied.

Widow Annabel sat down on the narrow plank that served as a bed, putting her head in her hands. "I told thee, young man, I be not a witch. What is it they've said I did?"

"Caused a plague, old woman. Four have died already, with three more gravely ill. And from most strange symptoms- little holes in their necks, and skin all pale and ashen, and so terribly cold." Zechariah shuddered. "Clearly caused by some dark spell. It will go much easier for thee, widow, if you confess to being a witch here and now."

The old woman shook her head, still not looking up. "No, no, I will never say what is untrue, not if I must be killed for it. I be no witch! And I never caused any plague of- of neck piercing, or ashy skin, or cold bodies, or blood draining, or any such thing!"

Zechariah and Ezekiel glanced at each other.

The widow spoke into her hands. "You did not mention the blood draining, did you?"

"No," Ezekiel replied, beginning to feel alarmed. Zechariah moved slowly toward the gun that hung above the jailhouse door.

"Bugger," said the widow. "I was enjoying that."

"You are a witch, then?" Ezekiel demanded.

"Oh, certainly not." She lifted her head then, and Ezekiel stumbled back in terror.

The widow- witch- demon- monster had kept its form of an elderly woman. But now her eyes glowed a hot, bright red. Zechariah fumbled for the gun and fired off a shot. It sank deep into the creature's chest.

She glanced down at it.

"Ow," she said, petulantly. "You young rogue, shooting an old woman."

Ezekiel's mouth dropped open.

The creature took hold of two of the cell bars and bent them apart with ease, stepping through the gap. She smiled, and Ezekiel saw with horror that her teeth were sharp, pointed fangs.

"Now," she said, and turned that ghastly smile on him. "You've been quite polite, so I'll make it quick for you, and I'm very sorry that I have to do it, but you did see me, so needs must. But this one who shot me- you, you rude little man, shall not have it so easy."

"What- what are you?" Ezekiel gasped.

"A vampyre, silly," she said. "Oh, your kind won't know about us for awhile yet. We are creatures who were once dead, come back to life- and we have a terrible thirst."

It was Zechariah who spoke next, his voice cracking with fear. "A thirst for what?"

The vampyre grinned at him, a grotesque parody of a grandmother's kindly smile. "Blood, my dear. It's all we're ever after. Blood."

She leapt on him.

[teddy-bear-baby]

Their Deadly Flower - Fourteen

(A/n: With the end of the fic drawing near, I'd like to take a moment to tell you all how much I appreciate everyone's support on my first fully released writing project. It really does mean the world to me and gives me the motivation to continue writing(Even if it's a slow process). I love you all, my Lovelies.)

Pairings: Ghost X GN!Reader, König X GN!Reader

Warnings: Heavy violence, mentions and depictions of torture

Prolog - One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten - Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Here - Epilog

Bloomed in Poison - Prolog

     Ghost’s tired eyes widen at the sight before him. An angel had stepped into the room, covered head-to-toe in blood-soaked tactical gear. Bright white light illuminates the figure as they step further into the dimly lit room, though that could have just been his mind slipping further into madness. The lack of sleep and immense amount of pain he’s been put through have done some strange things to his head. He often found himself talking to conjured images of his team, telling them how much he missed them and needed them, only for them to disappear seconds later.

     Iris had been a particularly common and vivid hallucination. Popping up at least twice an hour to let Ghost know how well he was doing or to tell him he just needed to hold on a bit longer. Everytime it happened, he’d keep himself from blinking for as long as possible hoping to prolong the visit from his conjured lover and the brief reprieve it gave his broken mind. Even now, watching as Iris approached him with tear stained cheeks, the only thing he could focus on was keeping his eyes open to keep the illusion here with him. 

~~~~~

     Gone. She’s just gone. The moment you think you have the leverage to get Ghost and König back it all disappears. Rain had somehow vanished from the base, though you’re certain you saw her just a few hours ago in the mess hall. Maybe it was just bad timing and she had slipped out of the base just before you’d put the pieces together. Or maybe she’d seen you rushing down the hall looking like a madman on your way to tell Price. Either way, the lockdown and search of the premises had turned up nothing. She was gone without a trace of her ever having been there.

     “I can’t believe this shit,” You mumble angrily as you tighten your vest to your body, readying yourself for the suicide mission. 

     Soap sighs as he double checks the magazines for his rifle, clearly having had enough of this past week. “How did all go so sideways?”

     You couldn’t help but feel like it was mostly your fault. Obviously, Alice had it out for you for some reason, Ezekiel made that pretty evident. All the thought does is piss you off more. Deep down you knew that it wasn’t just a feeling, it was your fault. Your men were captured, in god knows what kind of state right now, and the team was going on a suicide mission because of something you’d done to Alice. Because you wouldn’t open up and spill your secrets to your ‘best friend’ or what you believed to be your best friend at the time. 

     A disheartened sigh falls from your lips as you continue to ready your gear, tightening straps and holstering weapons as your mind continues to lay all of the blame on you. It doesn’t make sense. Why go through all the trouble of hurting so many people because someone you don’t even like wouldn’t open up to you? Perhaps that wasn’t her reasoning, maybe there was something else causing her completely irrational plans. Or maybe they weren’t her plans at all.

     The emptiness of the halls and rooms has you thinking you may have been lied to. Or maybe you had the wrong warehouse. But that all-too-familiar magnetic buzz has you moving deeper into the building. Like a ship to a siren’s call, you lead the other four into the unknown, fearing the worst while hoping to find the source of your current hardship. Hoping, praying, pleading with whatever god would listen, to be reunited with König and Ghost. Whether you made it out alive didn’t matter to you anymore so long as you got them back where they were supposed to be.

      A long, disheartened sigh escapes your lips as you glance around the last hallway. Having found nothing but empty rooms and silent halls thus far, you begin to wonder if coming here was even worth it. What a waste of time and effort you may have put into a completely empty building after all the trouble you’d gone through to get here in the first place. Suddenly all the fighting and yelling at superiors didn’t seem right anymore. The fear of being fired from the only job you want, of being pushed away from your family again settles low in your gut like brick. 

     Those thoughts only last a moment as one of the men taps you on the shoulder. “There,” He nods toward one of the doors on the left side of the hall. It appears to be made out of solid metal and there’s a keypad on the wall next to the handle.

     Your brain fails you as you step closer to the door, all caution thrown to the wind as you grab the handle. It doesn’t budge, so you try again. And again. And again, until you're practically shaking the door free of its hinges trying to get it open. You want to cry as the magnetic pull grows exponentially stronger. You're on the verge of tears when you finally snap out of your little tantrum and pull yourself together. Now equipped with the knowledge that this door was extra secure, you take a step back and attempt to reassess the situation.

     Your head shakes on its own as you stare Price right in the eyes. “I won’t.” You’re not only disobeying his orders but you’re also directly telling your captain no. If it were any other man standing not even five feet from you, you’d probably be scared to death by the mere thought of telling a superior no. But this was Price after all, and he was like family to you and understood your side. “I can’t.” Your voice shakes with unshed tears as you continue shaking your head.

     Price nods slowly as he looks around at each of the soldiers standing around you both. “Alright.” He gestures to the four KorTac members. “Team two, you’re with Iris.” He steps forward and places his hand gently on your shoulder. “Lead them well. Bring ‘em home alive, yeah?” 

     Your eyes widen slightly as you take in the meaning of his words. Not even ten minutes ago, he’d been ordering you and all the others to climb into the armored vehicle so you could get the suicide mission over with. You’d stood there, unmoving as all the others clambered begrudgingly toward said vehicle. But you couldn’t move, you were glued to your spot stuck on the thought of your men being tortured for something that wasn’t their fault.

     Now, Price is telling you to take these four men and lead them on an unofficial mission to save Ghost and König. The thought of the repercussions this could cause flash only briefly through your mind as you look over at the team of operators. “Will you follow me? Allow me to lead you through enemy territory to retrieve Ghost and König?” You nearly choke on air as they all give nods and stand at attention before you. Clearly, they’d gained quite a bit of respect for you over the past two months, something you hadn’t expected at all. Especially not after the scene that had been caused during the training for your first mission with the group.

     It wouldn’t open. The stupid fucking door wouldn’t open. No matter how many different number combinations you entered, the damned thing just stayed closed. The only other way to open it would be to find a keycard with access to whatever system the electronic lock was linked to. That feels impossible considering the rest of the warehouse had been completely empty. Your hope of getting Ghost and König back was quickly diminishing as you did the only thing you could think to do, stare at it blankly.

     A growl of frustration bubbles up your throat as you throw a heavy punch at the keypad on the wall, watching as it cracks in half from the force. A few sparks fly from the broken tech as it begins to short-circuit. And then you hear, like the most beautiful song to ever be written, sung by the voice of a goddamned angel. The lock clicks open as the power supply to the keypad fails. 

     You huff out a laugh as you slowly push the door open, revealing a long concrete staircase. The irony of your anger issues tickles the back of your brain as you force yourself not to burst into a fit of insane laughter. For years you’d been swallowing down your anger, focusing it into your work and training, and all it took to overcome this obstacle was to let yourself feel frustrated again. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to show a little aggression and anger. 

     You shrug at your own thoughts and usher four men to follow you down into the basement. The cool, stale air filters through your balaclava as you descend the steps as quietly as possible. You make sure to keep your eyes trained on the opening at the bottom so nothing could take you by surprise.

     You're only three steps from the bottom when you begin to hear voices. Your hand shoots up over your shoulder as your feet come to a halt, signaling for the others to stop as well. Three distinct voices can be heard from around the corner, you’re able to pick up a bit of their conversation. 

     “Any new information from our puppets in there?” A gentle, sultry male voice questions, a small snicker following his question.     A deep, gruff male voice speaks with what sounds to be agitation. “Won’t say anything, not a word from either of ‘em.”

     A familiar sounding female voice chimes in, “Keep trying, one of them is bound to crack eventually. I’m willing to bet you could get the giant to talk first.” 

     That voice strikes an animalistic feeling in the back of your neck causing your spine to become unnaturally straight. It’s like nails on a chalkboard, raking against your eardrums in the most mind breaking ways. Rain’s face materializes behind your eyes, that all-too-familiar heat returning to your chest as you physically force yourself to stand still. The last thing you need right now is to lose what little chance you had of getting Ghost and König out of here alive. 

     Your breath catches in your throat as the realization hits you like a speeding truck. They’re alive. They’re here and alive. Relief floods your entire being, your shoulders loosening and jaw unclenching for the first time since they’d been taken. It feels as though you can breathe again, the stale air of the warehouse basement suddenly seeming as fresh as the ocean breeze. A small smile forms on your chapped lips, the thought of getting them out of here is the only strength you can find to hold back the tears.

     The sound of retreating footsteps is briefly stifled by the gruff voice once more. “I don’t think either of ‘em will crack. Been here for a week, beaten, tortured, threatened and still won’t talk? I think it’s time to give up and just off ‘em.”

     You swallow a growl that forms in your throat as you push the graphic images out of your head. You nod once and motion for the others to follow you as the footsteps continue to grow quieter. Poking your head out of the stairwell, you run your eyes over your new surroundings. Small tables and metal chairs haphazardly litter the large room. Most of the tables hold trash of some sort. Empty booze bottles and plastic cups are strewn across the stone floor. The place seems to be in complete disarray, which shouldn't be as surprising as it is.

     It didn’t take long for your small group to be noticed. iver heavily armed soldiers sneaking through rooms and halls that were mostly white and light gray were bound to be spotted eventually. On top of all the other disadvantages you’d found yourself to have, you hadn’t taken into consideration that breaking the keypad might send out a security alert. So, everyone residing within the small compound was aware of, and on the lookout for, intruders.

     While you’d never been a huge fan of killing people, you knew in some cases it was unavoidable. So when a few of the residents found you and your merry band of KorTac operators, your choices were to turn yourselves in and cause a ruckus, or subdue them by whatever means necessary. You all chose the latter, and proceeded to defend your freedom with swift, less than merciful deaths for anyone that tried to get in your way. 

     It seemed there were at least three hostiles for every corner you turned and two more for every room you looked through. Waves of people coming at your group over and over again as you make your way through what you had previously thought to be a small warehouse basement. That wasn’t the case at all though. In fact, there was an underground tunnel system tucked in the back of the original basement. Three whole underground floors, each of which contained housing units, offices, bathrooms and small kitchens. It was like moving through the equivalent of three military bases.

     You probably wouldn’t have made it this far if team one hadn't shown up thirty minutes ago. All of team two had sustained minor injuries, mostly bruises, small cuts and grazes from near misses of bullets. Ammo had been running low and you were down to two of your six combat knives by the time Price, Soap and Gaz made their surprise appearance. The confusion that overtook you nearly made you dizzy, until they explained what they found. What they found being absolutely nothing, which made this elaborate base make a hell of a lot more sense.

     “So, they’re alive? You’re positive?” Cautious concern and elation snake through Price’s tone as he speaks. His eyes are glued to you and the team you’d been leading.

     You nod slowly, honestly uncertain of how to answer without bringing the team’s morale down. “As of an hour and thirty-six minutes ago, yes.” You hadn’t seen Rain at all during your extensive expedition of, what you now suspect is, the organization’s new headquarters. Your eyes find Soap as he works deftly to rig a small charge on a security access door. The hope being it’ll give you all a quicker and quieter way to travel around the labyrinth of never ending rooms and hallways.

     Soap finishes placing the charge and ushers everyone around the corner of an intersecting hall. “Shouldn’t need this much clearance,” He shrugs as he peers back around the corner at the door. “But you can never be too safe.” He steps back behind cover and holds up the charge trigger. A small bang echoes through the hallway, causing slight ringing in everyone’s ears. “Maybe it was a bit too much?” 

     You snort out a laugh and follow Soap around the corner to the security door which is now blown wide open. “At least it’s open.” You shrug as you both walk into the room, monitors full of video feeds fill the back half. Your eyes widen slightly as you scan over each of the feeds, unconsciously looking for two very specific people. “Oh, God,” You gag as your eyes finally find the feed for the ‘interrogation’ rooms. 

     Tears fall from your lashes as you take in the horrendous sight of your men, bound and tied to chairs. The cameras face both of them directly, neither wearing their masks but both recognisable from the clothing they wore. Clothing you had seen them wearing just before they disappeared, only now it was cut open and stained the color of rust in some places. Cuts and bruises litter their bodies, fresh blood seeming to seep from their skin in places. Your stomach twists with the need to evacuate anything that may be contained within as your heart squeezes, trying to fold in on itself. 

     You knew it would be bad, you knew this is what was happening to them, but you could stand to look at it. Couldn’t stand knowing you were the reason for the days of torment your lovers had been through. And now, standing here, more or less fine, while they suffered endless amounts of pain, had broken you. Your usually strong exterior, your need to be fine even in the hardest of situations dissipates. The emotional turmoil you’d thought would be the end of you couldn’t compare to what they’d been through.

     Guilt and disgust fill you as you think back on how bad you’d felt for yourself. You felt pathetic, nearly breaking from their absence was so stupid in hindsight. You’d been so focused on holding yourself together while they’d been here, counting on you to come for them.

     They’d been paid a visit recently, that much was obvious and it made your blood boil with white hot rage. You want to shriek in anger, to wail in sadness and throw things. You don’t though, you keep it together as you knew you’d get your chance to be emotional once they were back in the confines of safety. Your eyes scan the screens once more, finding the room numbers before you turn and rush out of the security room. 

     The adrenaline coursing through your veins and the sound of your rapidly beating heart drowns out the calls of your team. You were on a mission and nothing would stand in your way. So they were either with you, or they weren’t. 

     The next twenty minutes blur in your head, flashes of the events that transpired are all that remain. Images of you sprinting through the halls, picking off the residents of the facility one by one. The cuts and bruises you’d sustained, the single bullet that had managed to hit you in the midst of the absolute rampage you’d gone on stick in the back of your head. You don’t feel them though, your whole body feels numb and you can’t think of anything but pulverizing the two people you know had a hand in Ghost and König’s torture. 

     You vaguely remember team two following hot on your heels as you massacred a fifth of the people on the third floor. They’d followed you without question, either having full confidence in your abilities or having that little control over themselves as well. It hadn’t really mattered to you either way, you were just glad to have some sort of backup when it came time to bust into the room that contains the holding cells. 

     Many well-equipped guards stood in your way, but you weren’t deterred in the slightest by their presence. Neither were the four men from KorTac. In that moment it became clear why they had followed you so willingly, all of them standing at your side waiting for you to give the order. Waiting for you to lead them into what would most likely be a bloodbath for your small, now ammo-less group. 

     “This will most likely end in at least one of our deaths,” You explain in a hushed voice as you glance between the four men. “You’ve come this far with me and not questioned any of my rash decisions, I wouldn’t blame any of you if this is not a risk you’re willing to take.” You swallow hard, nerves slowly wiggling their way past the wall of numbness and determination that had gotten you this far. “You’ve all done well and I commend you all for the bravery you’ve shown by blindly following my lead.” You salute them all as a show of respect, nodding in approval as they follow suit. “I’m going to turn around, you have thirty seconds to make your decisions. After that I’ll be moving forward with no knowledge of who has chosen to stay and who has chosen to go.” 

     You take a deep inhale and turn toward the door that would likely lead to your death. You wouldn’t make the choice for these men, you wouldn’t lead more people than necessary to their deaths for what felt like a selfish and reckless move. Your stomach churns with a mixture of respect and fear when you hear four sets of boots come to stand in a line beside you.

     “If we play this right,” Horangi pipes up quietly. “We can get weapons from a few of the guards before they realize we’re even here.”

~~~~~

     Blood. So much blood. Covered in it, head to toe and back again, absolutely soaked. Yours, Ghost’s, König’s, and everyone else you’d come in contact with in the past three hours. But most of it belonged to that prick who’d suggested just offing your men. It’s sticky and wreaks of iron, leaving a tingling sensation in the back of your nasal cavity. It serves as a stark reminder of the things you found out you were capable of about forty-five minutes ago and it’s the last sinsation you feel before everything around you fades to black.     Your whole body ached from a hard battle your team had barely won. None of you had escaped without injuries that ranged in severity from simple bruising to bullet wounds. Through all of it the only thing keeping you upright was the hope that that vile man hadn’t managed to follow through with his suggestion. 

     As the last guard falls by Soap’s hand, the whole group breathes a collective sigh of relief. The room grows deathly silent as we search the fallen guards for keys to the cell that Ghost and König were held in.

     You’re the first to enter the room, your feet dragging slightly as you step in and come face to face with the bruised and broken forms of Ghost and König. Your first instinct is to run up and embrace them but that thought is quickly stunted by the sound of heavy footsteps behind you. You think better of it anyway, better not to crush them in your embrace and further cause them pain. Instead you settle for a gentle caress to each of their cheeks as your team moves in around you, readying themselves to haul the two large men out of the underground compound.

     On the long walk back to the surface with the team carrying your most injured companions, your eyes catch sight movement out of the corner of your eye. Your head turns just in time to catch the back half of a man trying to sneak behind a corner. Unluckily for him, and luckily for you, your eyes are sharp from years of paranoia and working with 141 and you rush to subdue the man in hopes of getting your hands on Rain once and for all.

     Much to your surprise as you round the corner you find that the man is accompanied by the woman you’re after. Your heart pounds as the anger you’d recently resolved comes flooding back, mind reeling with all the ways you’d enjoy tormenting these two cretins as soon as you got your hands on them. The aching in your body is quickly forgotten as Rain begins to make a run for it. You move to follow, determined to take her down before she manages to disappear for the third time but this man, whomever he may be to her, steps in the way. 

     His form is larger than yours, appearing almost bodyguard-like as he blocks your path. His arms are outstretched so even if you attempt to move around him, he’d have a good chance of catching you. 

     Your anger turns to pure, unadulterated rage, watching over the man’s shoulder as Rain disappears around another corner in the maze of hallways. A frustrated yell falls from your lips as your eyes harden and move to the man’s less than pleasant face. “I’ll fucking kill you!” THe last word to leave your lips before you pounce on the man. Your hands find their way around his thick neck as he falls back from the sudden attack. You don’t give him a chance to react before using your grip to take the air from his lungs. Pounding his head into the concrete floor as the fire in your eyes intensifies.

     For ten solid minutes you remain on top of the man. Long after the light had drained from the man’s eyes and he’d stop clawing at your wrists. Still you continue to abuse the man’s body as an outlet for your rage. All of your usual management skills are gone and the anger deep in your bones, anger from years past, spurs you on. You only stop once the adrenaline that fueled you ran out completely. Your body grows weary as your arms fall heavily to your sides. It takes every ounce of energy and strength you have left to drag yourself out of the compound to the awaiting vehicle. You collapse inside next to Ghost and König’s unconscious forms before slipping into darkness yourself.

(Don’t forget to ask about joining the tag-list: @josieguts @strangepuppynightmare @theredviolets @poohkie90 @giulia2372 @fillechatoyante @buckysjuicyplums @running-writing @darkravenqueen98 @bigman101 @birdiiiiiiiiiii @kessi-21)

[prototypesteve]

An open letter to those of my Christian friends who really, really, really don’t like Pride Month:

⚠️Content Warning: This is a letter to people who don’t like some of the people on this website, and it’s going to quote religious texts and talk in terminology that may remind you of times when religious people were awful to you. If you’ve been hurt by people of any faith, please skip this post. We all love you, and you don’t need to fight this fight. We’ve got this. If you need to talk to someone about it, you can message me. You matter.⚠️

Ok? Ok…

“Now, this was the sin of Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me. Therefore I did away with them as you have seen.” - Ezekiel 16:49-50

Don’t worry about Pride Month. Worry about what God thinks about you glibly not tipping your subsistence-wage food delivery driver who just dropped off your ruinously high-calorie lunch, while you ignored Gaza (or even enjoyed the carnage).

I don’t mean this in a “haha I found an Uno reverse-card” funny way. I mean this as a Christian, to other Christians. Trust me when I say every Christian 2SLGBTQIA+ person I know has found a way to bring their sexuality into alignment with their faith, and talks to God about it, a lot.

But a terrifyingly high number of my angriest straight Christian friends have let their anger or their indignant pride in their heterosexuality push their lives 180° away from Christ, towards homemade counterfeits.

Plot Twist (Possibly a Spoiler):

By the way, not to rain on your parade or anything, but in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is quoted hinting that everyone is going to be resurrected aromantic & asexual.

Matt 22: 29-30 Jesus replied, “You are in error because you do not know the Scriptures or the power of God. At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven.”

Yep. You’re gonna be the A in 2SLGBTQIA+. DM me if you want a pin, or something. That’s where my username Prototype Steve comes from. My AroAce friends and I are in the public beta of Resurrection OS.

But you might be thinking, “Jesus can’t have meant that, because aromanticism and asexuality aren’t biblical, because in the first letter to the Corinthians, Paul says if we do not have love…” etc.

Aromantics and asexuals have all kinds of love. Platonic love, neighbourly love, love for our community, reverential love for God, and more. All the forms of love you saw between Christ and the Apostles & the community of earnest followers. Don’t worry about us. Maybe worry that you’re neglecting to explore those other expressions of love.

Have a joyful and happy June, however you choose to!