#i myself rise from the dead to slowly start answering these again

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

Uhhh I haven't done any bullshit with Oliver for a while, let's change that! My current interpretation of Ollie (it changes constantly 💀) is basically kinda like [/ISSzDAdnEW4] and also [/wyKbpyVVZ7g] in terms of vibes? Boy's got a kinda gloomy foggy aesthetic but also if you stare at him for too long you start to feel that something's very wrong with him. There's been multiple occasions where someone has called Oliver an It because he doesn't pass the vibe check (1/?)-🌟

what is mysterious white boy doin.... what is pfx labs doing in general too sdjgh MAKING A WHOLE MAN JUST CAUSE THEY CAN? i mean tbh i guess science is basically that, fucking around and finding out but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

oliver's just a lil guy dont worry abt him... just babey 🥺 even if he is dead

WAH THE LAST THING THO sobs thats cute... really said "you are my parental figure now. its law." and hio's "???" BUT IT WORKED OUT IN THE END SO ITS CHILL 😭💖

[freesia-writes]

Congratulations on the followers!! That's so awesome!! 😆😆

Could I ask for prompts 9 and 16 with my beloved Sergeant Hunter, please? 🥰🥰 Thank you so much!!

*whew* I needed to stop myself for this one! Might have to write a smutty continuation if the demand is there. ;)

Word Count: 3k Hunter x GN!Reader Content Warnings: wound care, PG-13 passion, nakey Hunter ;) thirsty inspiration from this drawing by @cloned-eyes

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#9 - You find an injured clone who was somehow (conveniently) left behind, thought dead, and instead falls under your care… and falls under your spell… ;)

#16 - "I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…"

HUNTER

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He groaned suddenly, rolling his head from one side to the other and startling you out of your drowsing. You sat up quickly, brushing the hair from your face and rising to your feet, at his side immediately. You were just in time to watch his large brown eyes open, fluttering a bit and roving the room quickly before focusing on you with a hawklike stare. With a sharp inhale, he tried to sit up, brow furrowed, a small grunt of pain escaping him as you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Your ribs are cracked; you need to stay still for now,” you said softly, trying not to focus on the muscles rippling across his chest and the sensation of his sweaty bare skin under your palm. Some hair scattered across his forehead as he slowly laid back down with a wince.

“Where am I?” he croaked, and even after being unconscious for hours, the gravelly tone of his smooth voice sent shivers down your spine. What was wrong with you? It felt as though you’d never seen a man before, and you were starting to want to kick yourself for the absolutely ridiculous way you felt smitten for someone you’d only seen passed out. You couldn’t deny that you’d thoroughly enjoyed wrapping the large gash on his bicep, as well as the one on his thigh, and had been grateful that he hadn’t been awake to see you ogling his sculpted limbs while you treated his wounds.

“Uh, in my room…” you admitted, cringing a bit as his eyes flashed at you. “Sorry -- on Pantora. I was coming home from a late shift and found you in a clearing… It looked like something had blown up, maybe a ship? I thought you were dead, but when you had a pulse… I couldn’t leave you there.”

“I need a comm,” he answered abruptly, again trying to sit up, getting halfway propped on an elbow with a grimace. His free hand grasped at his side, chest heaving with the pain and effort of simply moving and breathing. “Where are the others?” 

“There were no others, at least not anywhere near you,” you said, holding a hand up in an attempt to soothe his apparent agitation. The dark tattoos across his face, chest, arms, and torso were mystifying -- as though he wanted his skeleton marked on the outside -- and you found yourself wondering if it went all the way… You shook your head to clear the thoughts and distracted yourself by answering him, “There’s a long-range transmitter in the local communication center that you can use, but if you move too much too soon, you’re going to cause more damage. I can send a message for you, if you’d like?” 

He scrutinized you, taking in your earnest face, noting the slight blush creeping across your cheeks, and suddenly sensing your elevated pulse and blood pressure. His brows furrowed, trying to discern the threat. Were you afraid of him? Were you malicious? He took a deep whiff, wincing again at the sharp pain that stabbed him in the side in response, and his eyes widened slightly at the pheromones that gave you away, although you were completely unaware. A tiny smirk teased the corner of his lips, but he said nothing of it. 

* * * 

You couldn’t discern a word of the message you sent, nor the one you received in reply, but the man nodded when you relayed the information to him. It had been a jumbled mess of words that made no sense at all, and you couldn’t resist asking about it as you brought a small bowl of soup into your room.

“We like to keep things… covert,” he answered cryptically, kindling your interest even further. 

Your tiny apartment left much to be desired, and you’d been sleeping on the couch. It had been a few days, and you wondered how long this would last. You’d offered to take him to the local infirmary, and had found yourself shockingly relieved when he declined. Instead, he informed you that he’d be picked up within the week. Something about a hyperdrive that you hadn’t really listened to, finding yourself distracted by the way a few hairs always seemed to dance across his forehead, held back by a red bandana with a skull on it. You chewed the side of your lip, wondering what it would be like to rake your fingers through that hair… And he suddenly chuckled out of the blue, snapping you out of your illicit daydreaming. You were clearly in a *mood*.

“What?” you asked innocently, angry at the blush that snuck onto your cheeks as though he had heard your thoughts out loud. 

“Oh, nothing,” he answered, setting the soup bowl to the side. He’d been able to sit up, and was propped up with all the pillows in your home, as well as some bundled blankets. 

“So secretive,” you mused, attempting a bit of playfulness to diffuse the tension you felt, “Are you even going to tell me your name? Or shall I call you Havoc 1 like your message?”

“Hunter,” came the silken reply, and you wondered if it were really his name or not. You echoed it quietly, relishing the way it rolled off your tongue. It had been a while since you’d been… intimate… and while you weren’t normally one to feel the craving spontaneously, this dark and broody stranger was fueling a fire within that you hadn’t felt in a long time. He was hitting every button you were an absolute sucker for -- strong man made vulnerable by injury, mysterious and alluring, and just the right mix of sharp and soft. You decided you might need to blow off some steam that night, if you could find some time alone… 

“Okay, Hunter,” you said, wondering why he was still smirking at you knowingly. Perhaps it was just his thing… But it still made you wonder. “I have another bacta injection for you, if you want to try it out. You might be able to stand after this one.” 

With a resigned huff, he leaned forward, pulling his shirt over his head with a stiff groan that made your dirty thoughts come flying back. He leaned to the side, reaching his arm forward to expose his side. You took the cap off of the syringe, looking at him apologetically as you placed a steadying hand on his ribs, a prickling sensation running up your arm at the feeling of his body heat. The injection was placed without a sound or movement from him, though you thought you could see the flash of a furrowed brow for a split second. He sat back, taking a slow, deep breath to test the waters, giving a small nod of approval. 

“And now, we wait…” you said, shrugging as though you were in it together. “Are you still hungry?” 

“I’m alright for now,” he answered, eyes scanning the bandage on his arm. “Though it might be time for a shower once I can get back on my feet.” He looked up to you as he said the last part, a fiendish glint in his eye that caught you off guard. Did he know what he was doing to you? You’d tried so hard to appear neutral around him. Or was he a pervert? The last thought came unbidden and unexpected, and you laughed out loud before you could catch yourself. 

“Now it’s your turn to laugh at nothing?” he asked with a grin, and you nodded, returning his smile with a spark of joy in your chest. 

“Well give it an hour or so, and you should be able to stand,” you informed him. You rose to your feet, shifting awkwardly. You wanted to give him privacy, but also enjoyed his company, in more ways than one. Without the excuse of bringing him food, you were at a loss. But perhaps… it was worth a try… “The time might pass more quickly if you were distracted?” you offered, “If you’d like to chat? Or, if you want to rest, of course, that’s fine too…”

“Distracted, eh? You going to dance for me?” he crooned, his smoky voice sounding even sultrier than usual and making your stomach do a flip. You began spluttering an explanation, but he laughed, waving a hand to indicate his jest and relieve you from your frantic backtracking. “I’m just kidding,” he said, with a rumbling laugh that made him wince as much as it felt like velvet on your ears. “There aren’t many details I can tell you, but perhaps you have a story or two you’d like to share?”

* * * 

Another day passed, punctuated with meals, conversations, and a growing affinity for the complexity of the man in your care. The food in your fridge had dwindled, sending you out for a few necessities. You grabbed some extra snacks at the store, wondering what else Hunter might like, and arrived home with a precariously full bag in each arm. Kicking the front door shut behind you and setting the bags on the counter, you peeked through the door of your bedroom, noticing with a start that he wasn’t there. You glanced frantically around the apartment, which was incredibly tiny and didn’t provide many hiding places, and then it dawned on you that the only other place he could be was the refresher. As though the realization had beckoned him audibly, the door swung open, and Hunter stepped out, causing your stomach to clench in a spasm so tight you had to swallow involuntarily. 

He had a towel wrapped around his waist, but apparently hadn’t found the body towel tucked in your cupboard, instead opting for the medium-sized hand towel you left hanging on the hook. It fit tightly around his snatched waist, where he held it with one hand, but split open on the outside of one thigh, revealing that yes, the tattoo did indeed go the whole way… You jerked your eyes back up to his, but that wasn’t much better -- his hair fell around his face in damp waves, and he looked incredibly vulnerable somehow without the bandana. He lifted his free hand to his head, running it through his hair to shake out some excess water, a few droplets scattering across his bare chest and shoulders. You gasped audibly, and he looked at you in response, so you turned into an incredibly fake yawn as an attempt to mask it. 

“Long day, huh?” he asked with a chuckle, walking slowly toward the bedroom, providing a revolving view of his side, then his back… Your heart was pounding in your chest so loud, you were positive he could hear it. It should be illegal, what he was doing… The way he looked… The sudden wafting scent of soap that reached your nose as he passed by. It was your own soap, damnit, so why did it smell so intoxicatingly good? It wasn’t fair. He disappeared into your bedroom, rummaging for his blacks, and then he called your name, causing you to clamp shut your slack-jawed mouth and come immediately. He was sitting on the side of your bed, covered by that tiny little towel, hair covering his face as he was bent over to inspect the gash on his thigh.

“I can wrap my leg, but if you wouldn’t mind helping me re-wrap this arm…” he said quietly, face as straight as an arrow as he looked up to you for a response. You nodded, words unable to get past your dry mouth, and reached for the gauze on your dresser, sitting down next to him precariously. He lifted his arm toward you slightly, and you brought your foot up to the top of the bed, providing your bent knee to hold his arm in front of your face while you tended to it. Absolutely refusing to meet his gaze, you studied the cut on his bicep with the intensity of a lifetime, as though it could save you from the positively feral state you were finding yourself in. 

Hunter took a deep breath, as though he were simply taking it all in, and he let it out slowly, watching you from the side. He could see and hear the blood rushing in your veins, he could smell the undeniable signals of your attraction, and he could feel the palpable tension at the close proximity you found yourselves in. Your hands trembled slightly as you wound the gauze around his arm, and you cursed them for their betrayal of your nervousness. 

“Thank you,” he said huskily, and you finally met his gaze. “For all of this. I don’t think I said it before. But I appreciate all you’ve done.” His hawkish features softened, and your hand moved seemingly of its own accord, lifting to his face, where one of his wet chunks of hair had crossed his forehead from the side it was supposed to fall on. You brushed it back to its rightful place, watching the tiny smile grow on his face, and once it was satisfactorily placed, you slowly started to lower your hand. It took all the effort you had to force it to continue down to your lap instead of resting on his cheek, tracing the outline of his tattoo, brushing along his sharp jawline. 

Suddenly, his hand intercepted it, startling you and sending a shockwave through your body. He held it tenderly, as though he had read your thoughts, and lifted it to his face, pressing a meaningful yet impossibly gentle kiss against the back of it. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale giving away your surprise. 

"I've seen the way you look at me, when you think I'm not looking. You don't think I've noticed…" he purred, lowering both hands to his lap, and the heat rushed into your face with a vengeance, setting your cheeks on fire. “I’m afraid you’re not quite as subtle as you’d hoped, although I’m a bit more perceptive than most…” Your foot slipped off the edge of the bed, and in a complete and total panic, you leapt to your feet, facing him with contrived indignation. 

“I… sorry… I don’t know what you mean! I just… You…” you spluttered your defense, although the delivery was working wholeheartedly against you. Taking a step backward, you tripped over the leg of the chair and thumped into the wall. Smooth. Standing up and pushing your hair out of your face, you looked back to him just in time to catch the flash of a smirk as he rose to his feet as well, moving slowly and stiffly, still clutching that little tease of a towel. He approached slowly, as a predator stalking its prey, with a smoldering intensity in his eyes that threatened to make your knees buckle. He lifted his free hand, placing it on the wall next to your head, and leaned in at an agonizingly slow pace. 

“So… You’d probably like me to stop this, then?” he rumbled, bringing his chest and face within inches of yours. You looked to the ceiling, praying for any sense of guidance or self control or anything, but felt nothing but the overwhelming craving washing over you from head to toe. You swallowed, hard, clenching your fists at your sides. But wait… He clearly wasn’t put off by your infatuation… Or why would he be doing this? Was he toying with you? Or did he share the attraction? You lowered your eyes to his, taking in the honey brown pools of emotion and depth, and slowly lifted both hands to his chest, tentatively resting them as though the heat radiating off of him might burn you.

“Hunter,” you whispered… And his hand lowered from the wall to your cheek, cupping it gently and tracing down to your chin, thumb brushing feather-light across your lower lip. 

“I should back off, shouldn’t I?” he asked, and you felt as though you were about to explode. There were no words, just a sheer rush of passion that threatened to tear you apart. So you leaned forward, sliding your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, digging them into his back and pulling him into you, pressing your lips against his with a desperation that thoroughly gave you away. He breathed a chuckle against your mouth, the most satisfying sound you could have imagined, and parted his lips slightly to deepen the kiss and send you into complete oblivion. 

His hand slid around your head, gently cupping the base of your skull with a balance of firmness and tenderness, and your lips met again and again, fanning the flame of desire raging between the two of you. His nose pressed into your cheeks, arms flexing around you, drowning you in the sheer bliss of his presence. He pulled away for a moment, giving you a breath of air, and instead lowered his lips to your jawbone, then your neck, then your collarbone. You wrapped one hand around his waist, pulling his hip, and one hand roved into his hair, fingers winding through his wavy locks and clenching in a sudden fist. The guttural moan that escaped him in response goaded you on, and you used both arms to pull him against you as firmly as you could. 

A sharp cry of pain broke you apart, and you staggered back in shock and confusion, realization dawning on you as he bent over slightly, clutching his side with his free hand, breathing laboriously. You babbled your apologies, feeling rotten to the core for not remembering his injuries. He waved dismissively, slowly standing up with a grimace that faded into a grin. You stood there, staring at each other for a moment, awash with all that had just happened, until you rasped a coy suggestion. 

“Are you sure you don’t need help wrapping your thigh?” 

Oh lord, we did a smutty part two…

[demxnicprxncess]

His Mask (Kai AndersonxFem. Reader)

Warnings (Foriegn objects up the vagina, Kai Anderson, Punsishing?, Stupidity)

"Where were you" As soon as I step into this damned house I was immediately interrogated like I did something wrong. "The store?" I just looked at the blue haired man as I set down the bags obviously filled with food, drinks, and some extra stuff I found. "Who told you you could go?" His intense glare boring into my soul, what did he mean? Why would I need permission to get necessities. "I didn't know I needed permission." He stayed blank faced, "Why is that" I watched as he stood up slowly, his feet kind of dragging across the floor that looked to be freshly mopped. "You yourself said, 'dead people can't vote.' I believe food is something to keep us alive." As soon as I said that I felt his grip my neck squeezing it tauntingly. "Go to the room." I had officialy fucked up, he was either going to fuck me 'till I snapped in half, or he was going to mark me. I hated when he marked me, I still have the scar from when he carved his idiotic three letter name into my thigh. I didn't entirely hate it, however I would've really prefered if I had a choice. I made it to our room as I sat on the bed, I watched as his frame pressed against the door after he had walked in and shut it. "Now again, tell me what I said?" I looked at him not able to tell what he had behind his back. I watched as he came closer, but before I could register what happened he slapped me making me fall back on the bed. "Answer." I quickly nodded and sat up looking into his eyes, "Dead people can't vote", he merely smirked. "With that being said, I'll let you pick what I use. Both correlate to death bunny" I looked at him slightly scared. I watched as he pulled out a pocket knife and his mask. What would he do with the mask? "C'mon, pick or I use both." I flinched slightly but pointed at his mask, watching as he smirked and put it on his somewhat attractive face before laying back on the bed, the back of the clown mask hitting the pillow causing it to rise up just a bit. "What are you doing?" I watched as he patted his stomach signaling me to sit on his chest. I quietly crawled over to him sitting on his chest as I felt him unbutton my pants, so I removed my pants and panties to help him and possibly lessen my 'punishment'. "Ride my mask." I was in sheer shock. "What?" I felt his hand slap against my bare ass. I jolted forward as a result making his shirt push against my clit making a moan build up in the back of my throat waiting to be released. I slipped forward and backwards on his chest to get myself wet, moaning softly. "That's enough." I nod and climb forward before gently lowering myself onto the red makeshift dildo. "atta girl." I moaned barely as I felt the cold plastic stretch out my warm walls. "s'to much" He chuckled softly before grabbing my ass and movinv me up and down on his mask/face. "You're so good to me, however you love to do what you want." I felt as I moved faster, and his hands moved me even faster. I was so close already. "P-please" I whimpered out. "Please what bunny?" " 'm gonna cum Kai please" I felt as he stopped me which dragged out a whiney whimper from me. "No, please, Im sorryy" He raised me off of his mask and started taking it off. "Ride my face." I quickly sat my wet, arousal, coated cunt onto his face. Smearing my juices all over his stubble, lips, and even some on his nose while I grip his hair moaning and riding his face at a quicker pace. His mouth slurping and sucking on my sensitive vagina. "can I c-" "yes." I whine cumming in his face still slowly grinding on his face. "off." I slowly moved off his face laying down, absolutely exhausted. I barely notice him leave. I guess he has other people to worry about too.

Taglist: @ppawmpkin, @yes-divine-ruler lmk if you wanna be removed or added <3

[skyloftian-nutcase]

“Have you ever wished you were dead?”

Legend abruptly stopped in mid motion as he was getting ready to sip some of his cider. He glanced at Warriors worriedly, a million thoughts blazing through his mind and choking in his throat before they could be spoken.

What ended up coming out was, "You've had way too much alcohol."

Warriors barked out a tired laugh and downed another sip just to seemingly spite his friend. He glanced at him from the side. "You didn't answer the question."

Slowly, Legend glanced away, getting his bearings. “…Yeah. Once or twice.”

Warriors hummed, his eyes unfocused again, staring off somewhere Legend couldn't reach. The travel nurse felt his stomach knot at the sight of it, and he put his drink down, growing nauseous.

"Hey," Legend piped up awkwardly and worriedly. "I... you... have you thought that?"

Warriors didn't speak. Legend waited. His friend stayed mute.

Growing more agitated, Legend pivoted so that he was facing his friend fully, one leg tucked under him while the other hung off the sofa where they were sitting.

"Look," Legend started, unable to keep the sharp edge out of his tone, unable to keep his own emotions under control at the turn this conversation was taking. "We've seen some shit, both of us. I'm not about to tell you how you should feel. I don't know what you've been through. But you'd better be damn sure I'll get on your sorry ass if you start thinking of different ways to die.

"I've had days where I wish I could just stop breathing. But you know what kept me going? Every damn shift in that blasted emergency department. Because as much shit as we see, we see why we do it, we see so many people dying but we see how precious their lives are too. Remember the fifteen family members for that one lady who died? Remember how many lives she touched? You... you remember that one guy, the one we all fought so damn hard to save and died anyway? You remember how he had no one, how we'd known him for all of a couple hours and it still hit us like he was our own? Don't you fucking dare for one one second think your life isn't important. I don't give a fuck if you think it doesn't matter, or you think you're worthless because you're fucking not."

Rising up from the couch, face flushed, he continued, "I don't care if your brain doesn't accept what I'm saying. I don't fucking care. Your perception of reality isn't mine, you got that? If you think you're worthless that doesn't mean the whole world does. It just means you need help. Because nobody should be thinking like that about themselves, okay? Like we all have dips and that's just life, but you should never want to die, you got that? If you're feeling that way you'd better fucking listen, because I'm going to--"

"Legend," Warriors interrupted quietly with a soft smile. "I'm not feeling that way right now."

Legend froze in mid tirade, mouth agape as he was about to continue ranting, and then he let out a shaky breath with a defeated, embarrassed, "Oh."

There was a long pause, and then Legend said, "Well, good. Thanks for scaring me, idiot."

Warriors laughed, reaching forward and grabbing Legend by the shirt and dragging him into a hug. Legend yelped and spluttered, but sighed in defeat and hugged his friend in return, melting into the embrace.

"You're right," Warriors said as he squeezed Legend even tighter. "No matter what our minds whisper in the dark, we shouldn't listen to it. There's too much at stake. Every one of us matters, and if our heads are ever in a space where we can't accept that, I also know there are others who care about me. I can live for them, if nothing else... until I can make myself a little better."

Easing up, he pushed Legend away just a hair so he could look him in the eye. "You know that you have so many who care about you too, right? It's not just everyone's life is precious except mine."

Legend rolled his eyes dramatically. "For the love of--I'm the one who just told you--"

"I'm not talking about what you said to me, Ledge. I'm talking about how you feel about yourself."

The travel nurse sobered and then sighed. "I know. I know others care about me. And I've seen what happens when people don't think that way, what happens to their loved ones who are left behind to pick up the pieces that you can never pick up. I never want to go through that."

His voice cracked and he snapped his mouth shut. Damn alcohol. He shouldn't have had so much. Pushing away, he rose and took a step from his friend to get some composure back. Then he let out a sad laugh. "Aren't we just a fucked up pair?"

Warriors chuckled at that, rising and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, but that doesn't change how amazing we are. Naturally, I'm a little more amazing than you--"

"Like hell you are."

"I'm clearly the better nurse."

"The only thing you have in spades beyond me is your fat ego."

"Nonsense, your head's pretty inflated, too."

"Maybe so," Legend relented, the fight draining out of him. He glanced at Warriors, suddenly open and vulnerable. "You... you do know I love you, right?"

Warriors' smile faded, just a hair, just enough for the gentle surprise to take hold as his eyebrows rose slightly. Then it returned, soft and relieved and so, so warm. "Yeah. I know."

[lesbianbitchforu]

Running From Her Ghost - An TLOU2 Fanfic. This is my first ever TLOU fanfic! Yes, I inserted myself in this, I will do ONLY Female readers! Enjoy!!

“Damn, Abby~”  I murmured, feeling the masculine woman’s tongue lick my pussy furiously, like she was a starved wolf who hadn't eaten for days. The worst part about was that Ellie couldn't find out I let her enemy fuck me. But the moans that left my mouth gave away my position.

The door to the boat opened, but Abby didn't give a fuck who entered. She continued her actions, her large hands gripping my thighs, harder, making me shut my eyes.

“Holy shit…..Carter, what the fuck?!?!” 

Owen.

I didn't give 2 shits if Owen was here, I hated his guts with a passion, but with Abby tongue fucking me, I couldn't control my excitement. Abby slowly pulls away, making me stop moaning and sit up.

Ignoring Owen's eyes on me, I stood up, Abby stood across the room, watching me and Owen, silent. 

“Carter, what the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you were fucking dead!” Owen states, getting closer to me. Despite my aching legs, I folded my arms across my chest, scoffing at him. 

“Oh please, motherfucker….You never cared about me, you wanted me dead, right?” I countered, my short naked frame getting closer to Owen, who towered me, his eyes full of anger. “You betrayed us….Of fucking course I cared!!” He spat, my dark brown eyes scanned his as he stared at me. 

“Fuck you, Owen. It wasn't my choice….” I admit, anger in my voice. Abby only got closer, sensing the tension between us. “Hey, Skii….” She started, only to get cut off by Owen: “You know what? Fuck you too…”

Before I could say anything, Owen ordered Abby to leave, his anger rising. At first Abby was reluctant to leave, saying that she didn't want us to fight. But to Owen’s favor, Abby was called outside for patrol.

I stood in the same spot, Owen locked the boat’s main door, approaching me again. “I can't fucking stand you hanging out with Ellie Williams, Skii….” He murmured, his voice dropping low, making me slightly annoyed. “Your jealous, huh?” I asked, regretting it.

Owen then pinned me against the wall, my face pressing against the wooden wall by the small work desk, making me groan. 

With his lips near my ear, he whispered: “You don't know how badly I wanted you~” I only blushed in embarrassment at the current position I was in.

Exposed and vulnerable to Owen. 

I didn't want him.

“Let me go, Owen!” I growled, the right side of my face going numb. 

“No….I want to fuck you til you can only think of me…” He growled back, but a gunshot outside stopped him. Owen pulls away, then tossed me my black outfit at me, unlocked the boat door then walked outside 

I hurriedly put my clothes back on, grabbed my black backpack then swiftly made my exit out the small side door. 

—----------------------------------------------------

~Time-Skip: 6pm, abandoned small home~

After 30 mins of walking, I ended up back at the shelter spot that me and few other survivors had made. Tossing my dirty shirt on the floor of the living room, I was confronted by my friend, Jade. “Where the hell have you been for 3 days?!?! We all thought you died!” She asked, she was pissed off for sure.

Jade only scoffs as Ellie enters the room, the tension was so thick you could slice it with a knife. 

“I was busy…” I answered, my back turned to her, I could feel her light green eyes burning into the back of my head. “It was Abby, wasn't it?” She questions, venom in her voice, making me freeze.

“Jade, I don't want to talk about it….” I murmured, not wanting to reveal anything that happened the last few days.

Then Ellie asks:

“Why did you leave?”

[justarandomlambblog]

Morning Twilight

He is meditating.

It’s the first thing they notice as they step out of the hut they share with their siblings; their brother, beloved as he was once feared, sits in the field in the early morning twilight, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees. 

It’s improper posture for proper meditation, but Shamura supposes that doesn’t matter now.

His back is to the village, knowing well that the greatest threat to his safety comes from beyond the trees, and what little they can see of his face is obscured by his veil, but Shamura imagines that his eyes are closed.

They consider their options for a moment; it is too early for anyone other than the Lamb, the night guards and that day’s designated kitchen staff to be awake, and Narinder himself often stays in his hut until well into the day, when he is certain he won’t need to face his once-siblings. 

If Narinder is out this early, it means one thing; Aym and Baal are with their mother and Narinder could not sleep.

Making their decision, Shamura folds their hands under their robes and approaches their brother.

Narinder’s ear twitches as they sit next to him, and he makes no complaint. It’s as close to an invitation as he’ll willingly give.

(Shamura remembers, in fragments, a kit standing in their library, wide eyes bright with curiosity and excitement. A moment that, at the time, had felt so innocent, so normal- of course Shamura would share their library, their knowledge, with their younger brother. It’s a choice Shamura often regrets; would things have been different, they wonder, had they listened to the Elders and discouraged Narinder from learning? If their brother had only read the books on his own domain- had he learned only what he needed to know, would anything have changed at all?)

Shamura closes their eyes, breathing out steadily. Blood drips down their face, the injury just as fresh as the day Narinder gave it to them.

“You should have changed your bandages first,” Narinder says lowly, voice oddly soft. 

“I am no stranger to blood, brother,” they answer simply. “No, no stranger to blood... this has been our lives for a millennium now. I am no stranger to blood.”

There’s no answer, and they continue to sit in silence as the sun slowly rises above the treeline. Behind them Shamura can hear window shutters starting to open as the early risers of the village begin their day.

“... I apologize for what I did to you,” Narinder says, voice hardly more than a whisper, but his words echo in Shamura’s ears. They open their eyes and glance at Narinder, finding his two eyes still closed but his third cracked open, gazing in their direction. “I was angry and lost control of myself. It is no excuse. I have lived every day for a thousand years regretting it.”

Shamura takes a moment to collect their thoughts, clinging to this moment almost desperately. Memories, they find, are hard to hold onto, but they don’t want to forget this. “Why?” they ask, closing their eyes again. “You did what you had to in order to escape. Who can fault one for that? Any of us would have done the same.”

“... You did not forget me,” Narinder says, as if it explains everything. “You thought of me. I could feel your grief every day. And you gave me Aym and Baal.”

“... I did not want you to be alone.”

Its a confession they vaguely remember telling the Lamb, but words they have never told Narinder himself. Of course, they hadn’t ever visited Narinder in that between place before; the Afterlife is not a place for the living, after all, and until Shamura was slain they had no right to walk into that blinding light.

(They don’t remember what it was like, being dead. They would think it a relief, a mercy, if they didn’t know how much care their brother put into shaping the worlds for every soul that passed through his gates. Curiosity, after all, is what drives discovery, and discovery creates knowledge; and curiosity, as such, burns inside them, wondering about what After world their brother would have given them to.)

“Thank you,” Narinder says softly, and Shamura doesn’t respond. They don’t need to.

“... I apologize, as well,” Shamura says instead. Narinder tenses next to them as they continue, “The prophecy we received did not need to come true. It was merely a self fulfilling prophecy; in our attempts to stop it from coming to be, we simply set the act in motion. From the moment we fought over your ideas, we were already lost.

“Only, instead of being lost as a family, we lost it all.” They open their eyes and turn to look at Narinder, only to find him looking back at them. “We said that death is unchangeable, but how could we make judgment over your domain? Perhaps it was not your ideas we feared, but change itself.”

Shamura looks out over the fields as the first of the farmers begin their morning tending, the roots and vegetables not quite ready to be picked. It’s quiet, the kind of quiet that Shamura is no longer used to.

“Perhaps the world was ready to change,” they finish.

There is silence for only a few moments, and then Narinder laughs- something deep and quiet, not really amused. It’s the kind of laugh one laughs when something tragically ironic occurs, when one laughs because the only alternative is to cry.

He turns away.

“The irony,” Narinder starts softly, “is now that I live among the realization of my plans, I am finding it... lacking.”

“How so?” Shamura asks.

“It appears that, with the absence of permanent death, the living have lost value for life,” Narinder explains simply, finally folding his hands in front of himself. “Without an end, life ceases to be precious. My gates are never empty of souls, for the false idol only holds onto those under their care, yet just this night alone I have seen what the living will do when they do not fear the permanence of death.”

“Perhaps one day you can find beauty in that. It is what you wanted all those years ago.”

“But not like this,” Narinder says. “Resurrection was not meant to be used so frivolously. Death was never meant to be avoided completely. There are worlds beyond my gates for every one of these souls, sitting empty now. Perhaps the resurrected would prefer to be there- but how would they know? They are not like you or the other Bishops, nor like Aym and Baal or even the false idol. They cannot remember After.”

Shamura refrains from stating that they do not either; hours, at length, spoken with Heket, Leshy and Kallamar have all but confirmed that they couldn’t remember the world that Narinder had carved out for them, either.

(Or maybe they lie and just don’t want to remember.)

“Yet, I suppose you are correct,” Narinder gives. “This is ultimately how resurrection would always go. The living fear what they do not know, and no matter how many sermons are given, they will always fear the After. This is how it always would have ended. I should have listened to you.”

“Perhaps we should have all listened to each other,” Shamura compromises, unfolding their lower hands. They set one on Narinder’s shoulder and ignore the flinch he gives. “Perhaps we should have had a conversation, rather than a screaming match?”

Narinder relaxes, leaning into Shamura’s touch, and Shamura is reminded that he likely hasn’t been touched in a thousand years. Sure, they know, he likely held Aym and Baal when they were confused and scared kits in need of guidance still, but a giant would hardly even feel the touch of an ant.

They pretend not to notice, for his pride’s sake.

“I must take my leave now,” Shamura says. “I am meant to be helping with breakfast.”

“Go, then.” Narinder hesitates as Shamura stands, then adds, “Thank you for sitting with me. I...”

I missed this, are the words he doesn’t say. Shamura hears them anyway.

“I feel the same,” Shamura says, smiling at him. “We should speak more often. I have missed you, brother.”

With those words, Shamura turns and walks towards the kitchen. They trace over every word that was spoken, repeating the scene over and over again.

They don’t want to forget it.

[here-have-some-stories]

Silent Laughter Chapter 14: Final Chapter

Chapter 1 Chapter 13

I looked at my calendar. Twenty X’s for twenty days. I had no idea when, or if, my old life - the life where I was happy - was ever coming back. My guess was that it wasn't. People don’t just rise from the dead. But to be fair, after everything that had happened, I wouldn’t be that surprised.

I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept at all since arriving at the shed, not trusting what might happen. I was scared that I might be reaching my limits by keeping my eyes open. Realistically, I realised I wouldn’t be able to stay awake for much longer. Even while thinking these thoughts I could feel my eyelids starting to fall. 

I decided I might as well give in to sleep. I would probably die from exhaustion if I didn’t. It was a funny thought. Dying from exhaustion after everything that had happened. 

The dark shed began to grow darker as my eyes slowly closed. I was pretty much already asleep before they even finished closing, but through very slight consciousness, and thinly slitted eyes, I could swear I could see two long pale legs suddenly appearing in front of me. 

With no more energy left in my body to even open my eyes back up, I let sleep consume me.

← — →

I woke up and noticed two things. The first is that there is a horrible pain around my eyes. The second thing is that I can’t open them, and I’m kept in pitch darkness. I bring my hands up to my face, and feel horror wash over my body. How I didn’t notice this before I don’t know, but feeling my face with my fingers tells me that my eyes aren’t even there now. It feels as if my eyelids have been sewn over, and I can feel the string threading them together. 

I feel sick to my stomach, but I force myself to calm down, because I need to make sure that creature hasn’t done anything else. It probably has. I get to my knees and hold my arms out in front of me, feeling my way around the shed. I find the wall and move myself around the other three walls, before deciding to just aimlessly swing my arms around, hoping to capture something that could give me a sign that my things hadn’t been taken again. But I couldn’t feel anything. I was fairly certain the creature had taken all my food. And my calendar. 

Then I felt something. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it felt to be in a rectangle shape, it was also hard and cold. I could feel there were bumps on the top side of it and I traced my fingers along them. Feeling the bumps and I quickly figured out that they were spelling out letters. I traced around each letter, silently mouthing them to myself.

F R I E N D

I could feel the bump of a tick next to the last letter. I didn’t know what it meant, but then I remembered the sheet of paper with the questions, and my wrong answer. Was this the answer I was supposed to give? The thought unsettled me.

I hadn’t even tried to open the shed door up. I’m pretty sure I forgot to try. Standing up I walked forwards until I reached one of the walls, and felt my way around until I felt the crack that indicated the sliding door. I tried to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge. I tried harder, and it still wouldn’t move an inch. I was trapped.

This must be what the creature was planning. Trapping me in the shed, taking away my food, and my sight. It was planning to starve me, while all I could see was black.

This was by far the most terrifying thing the creature had done.

And woo hoo it's done! No more of Jim. Sometime, hopefully tommorow, I'm going to post pictures of all my pages of planning I had for this just because I can, along with a fun fact or two about this story. I really hope you liked this, and please give feedback, comments, reviews, likes, reblogs, anything. Funny that this story started off as a school creative writing task and then I just decided to expand upon it. Anyway, now I can focus on finishing Massacre Masquerade and Paper Love, and the think of more stories. Please send suggestions and/or requests for new stories if you have any. You can either message me or send them in as asks. -Kenickie

[blackjackkent]

We do get a nice little conversation with Wyll after all that craziness. c:

"Ansur is dead."

He sounds so tired, so dejected. Hector realizes in this moment how much weight Wyll has been putting on the possibility of finding Ansur. And why shouldn't he, in truth? It was a mission given to him by his father so soon after their reconciliation, a mission that entailed the fulfillment of a destiny and a savior for the city he is sworn to protect. He needed this moment to be a success... but the dragon lies dead, never to rise again.

"There will be no great tempest roaring through the skies, no dragon redeemer to save us. What hope, then, for Baldur's Gate? Without the great wyrm's aid is the city doomed to fall?"

He looks pleadingly at Hector, at Jaheira and Karlach, lost and uncertain in the wake of this terrible setback.

Before any of them can speak, though - the Emperor's voice resonates between them all from within the Prism. "You braved the wyrm's lair seeking a savior," the mind flayer says. "Yet it was you - all of you - who vanquished the undead abomination which Ansur became. You are more powerful than you understand. It is you who are the tempest. It is you who are the Heart of the Gate."

Hector scowls. The last thing he wants is the Emperor proving able to provide any comfort here, or any logic either. This is no longer your concern, he thinks bitterly.

But he knows, deep down, that the Emperor speaks truth - a truth that Wyll needs to hear. And at his side, Karlach nods.

"Hate to say it, Wyll," she says, "but I agree with the mind flayer. Baldur's Gate doesn't need a dragon. It needs you."

Wyll hesitates, the encouraging words starting to work on him, to bring back his sense of hope. "You're right," he says slowly. His shoulders square and his head lifts. "We are the warriors who'll slay the Absolute. We are the guardians who'll defend this fair city."

Hector smiles slightly. Wyll is sometimes so unassuming in camp that it is easy to forget that he is the hero which has spawned stories across the entire Coast. But he can see why now - in this moment of rising confidence, the words instinctively couched to rouse those around him in turn. He feels a flash of pride in his friend for the strength he displays in that moment, and he feels his own hope rise in answer to it.

Nod along silently.

"The brain will fall," Wyll goes on, warming to his speech. "And the people will hail us as champions." He blinks, cocks his head with a sudden thought. "I could even claim my father's own ducal title and carry his banner after this. 'Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard.' Marshal of the Flaming Fist, the city's truest defender."

OK, well, this is going off the rails just the slightest bit, Hector reflects dryly. Adrenaline is a hall of a drug - that and Wyll's eagerness to be accepted by his father and his father's world after so long on the fringes.

Jaheira raises an eyebrow skeptically. "A title you would earn, no doubt," she says. "But I wonder if the people would be so quick to look past the horns, Wyll. Baldur's Gate is not an oasis of open minds."

"The Absolute's end would be the guarantee, devilish visage be damned!" Wyll says fiercely. "If I were to call myself Grand Duke, no patriar would deny the claim."

Hector feels as if he hears echoes of conversations with Gale in Wyll's words. The same underlying sentiment - that there is power to be claimed, power to do good, yes, but dangerous power as well. And more than that... Wyll is wrestling with something inwardly; there is an argument happening with himself, of which Hector is only able to hear one side, and he is not sure of the other.

But... he trusts Wyll deeply, trusts that he is a good man who wants the best for this city. And, frankly, there is a long, long road before this is a decision that has to be made.

"Follow your heart, Wyll," he says with a grave nod. "I trust you to make the right decision."

A long pause. Wyll turns away, his head bowed, thinking. And Hector can see the exact moment where he comes to a new - and altogether surprising - decision.

"I fought to right the wrongs of the Coast," he says quietly. "To slay the monsters that hunt the helpless. What good is a champion who puts himself above the people? What good am I as a politician, just out of reach?" He shakes his head sharply, turns back towards Hector and the others. "There will be no Grand Duke Wyll Ravengard. And there will be no Blade of Frontiers."

They all look at him with some perplexity. What, then? Hector wonders.

"I am now the Blade of Avernus," he says gravely. "For as long as demons and devils imperil the Sword Coast, they will be my prey."

Hector blinks slowly, processing this. It's a surprising left turn for the conversation, and yet on some level it makes sense. Wyll is recognizing that he is no longer the man he was - not always through any fault of his own, but changed nevertheless. And with those changes, with that growth, comes a new name, a new mission.

And so Hector will support him in that too. And, in truth, it is a cause he can get behind, he reflects dryly. Perhaps one day, when all this is done with, you and I will travel into Avernus together and tear Zariel apart.

"Hail the Blade of Avernus," he says soberly, lifting one arm in Wyll's trademark salute.

Jaheira laughs softly, not unkindly, and raises one hand in a similar salute. "The Blade of Avernus!"

Narrator: A calm settles over you. The elder brain is a menace - but with the Blade of Avernus at your side, you know you will triumph.

Or at least... at least he hopes it so hard that it feels like knowing. And one more piece of the puzzle has slotted into place.

[syneilesis]

Unfinished Synfic #1

You Only Live Twice

Haikyuu!! | Miya Atsumu x F!Reader, secret agent, crack, action rom-com

The room is strewn with unconscious men, and you turn to Atsumu and say, with utmost seriousness, “Then does that mean you’re the Bond girl?”

Atsumu tries his best not to pull his hair out and scream.

Notes: In which you are like James Bond and Atsumu is like the Bond Girl. I have, like, an outline of this from start to finish. All that's truly left is to write it. But I'm unable to, for some reason. I still look at my notes from time to time and think to myself, One day. But that day is still not today. In some scenes Atsumu calls reader-chan 'James Bond'; he has a lot of nicknames for reader-chan.

Unbeta'd, understandably. I love to bully pathetic!Atsumu /sorrynotsorry.

“What the fuck,” Atsumu says.

It's like one of those action movies that unfold in tense slow motion, captured in brilliant 4k resolution: as the elevator doors slide open, Atsumu witnesses outside two people locked in a struggle—one middle-aged man and the other a woman around his age. The man is grappling the woman, his arm pressing down her throat, but the woman does some insane moves that have them reversing their position. Then she grabs the man’s head and slams it down the floor. The man ceases moving after that.

It’s silent for a few seconds until the woman looks up to find that the elevator is open, and Atsumu is watching the entire thing with growing horror in his gut. The woman blinks, her hand still on the man’s head.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure him, absurdly polite. “He’s not dead.”

It’s in that moment that Atsumu discovers how high-pitched his scream can get.

+

“Are you all right?” you ask. Politely.

“Yer gonna kill me,” Atsumu says, slowly backing up the elevator wall.

His muscles ache and he desperately longs for a warm bath, and while Atsumu really does think that today is such an unlucky day, it’s not really the type of unlucky day where one encounters a well-dressed shady person trying to kill another well-dressed shady person. His accepted definition of an unlucky day involves stubbing his toe or something, getting late in his training and getting scolded for it.

Not this thing. Certainly not this.

You look at him funny. “What gave you that idea?”

Atsumu pointedly looks at the (dead?!) man and then at you, as if that is answer enough.

“I told you he’s not dead. Just knocked out.” You rise from your position, glancing around as if looking for something, and then nodding, coming to a decision. You step over the body (!!!!) and take another in Atsumu’s direction, giving him a pleasant smile.

All the nerves in Atsumu’s body flare up like it’s Defcon 1. It doesn’t help that he’s inside a claustrophobic box and he has nowhere to escape. Briefly he thinks of fighting back. He’s muscular, and experienced, if he counted all those times he and Osamu scuffled over the things ranging from the serious to the absurd—he can overpower this chick if he played his cards right. But his eyes flit upon the sprawled (dead???!!!!!) body again and then he’s having second thoughts.

As though reading his mind, you say, in the gentlest tone possible, “Don’t panic. Let’s just talk, okay?”

Oh, yes, he’s going to die, all right.

Unbidden, Atsumu blurts, “I’m gonna die. Shit.”

“No, you’re not.” Another step towards him. “I only want to talk.”

“Yer gonna do t’me what ya did t’that man.”

He watches you pause and take a deep breath, like you’re bracing for something. Like attacking him, probably. Atsumu tenses, squeezes his eyes shut, and there it is—a hand landing on his shoulder. But instead of a forcible impact he only feels a light touch.

“I only ask you not to tell this to anybody.”

He opens his eyes, and a polite, pleading stare meets him. Strange, he thinks. His head should be banging against the metal wall right now.

“Ya gonna silence me if I did? Ya not gonna kill me right now?”

An uncomfortable look flits through your expression.

A long time must have passed between you, because the elevator pings and the doors slide shut. But you shoot out a hand to stop them without even looking behind, lightning-quick, which reminds Atsumu all over again how good you are at fighting (and possibly killing). The doors slide open again, and you finally exit to lift the body and hoist it over your shoulder with a grunt.

He’s getting out of this unscathed, Atsumu realizes, as you start to display a lack of interest in offing him like those hitmen in films. Which makes him call out, “Who are you?”

You pause in adjusting the man’s weight from your grip, transfer your gaze to Atsumu, and blink.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“Is that one of those things that you can’t tell or else you’ll have to kill me?”

You smile, troubled.

[justxrandomxlivia]

We won't let you fall again!

Masterlist

Summary: Your day started with oversleeping and ended with an Iraqi lieutenant and an American lieutenant holding your hands? Who would have thought that falling into an ancient temple you've been searching for months would change your entire life?

Warning Sign: Mention of weapons. That's all. No monsters in this story, just an ancient temple and two countries that hate each other.

Word count: 3910 o.O

AN: JASON AND SALIM! Two men I couldn't decide between. I know I'm not the only one, so here you get two wholesome men. I'm struggling with the idea to continue the story in a second chapter, or writing just a little more extended, more romantic/smut ending. I will see if you guys want me to or not ;)

“Ah it’s going to be colder today. Finally.” Mumbling with a sleepy voice, I rolled over in my bed. It’s not comfortable, but It’ll do. Slowly rising from my deep slumber, I realised that the sun was quite high already. “What time it is?!!” I yelled and jumped off the bed, checking my phone. “2 pm? You must be kidding. Why did nobody wake me?” I ran over to my stuff and got dressed quickly, then I left the bedroom. Meeting the owners of the house. “Good morning.” I said while hustling to get my shoes on. The oldest man laughed: “No morning. After noon.” I looked him, he pointed to the table, where was some coffee and bread on a plate. Letting my shoulders drop, I smiled at him. They are all so overly kind, if I would just be better in learning their language. I sighed and took my one shoe off again, then I sat down and thanked him. We are supposed to pay them 20$ the week. But my team and I decided to pay them 50$ per week each. What Is a lot of money for them. And for their kids. It’s never a bad thing to give more. After I was done with my little breakfast, I suddenly heard helicopters. Two I would say. I know the risks, Iraq and the USA are still on a warpath, but this area here should be fine. It’s quite isolated. There is a small town in the near, with some market for local farmers. Nothing to get for the US.

I got my plate cleaned and got back to the main door, taking my shoes on, grabbing my bag and left the house, just to found myself surrounded by soldiers. They were pointing machine guns at me and yelled at me. The helicopters were right above me, then flying into the distance a little bit. My legs got shaky, and I couldn’t say anything, I got on the ground and one man tied my arms, then he led me back into the house. He pushed me down next to few of the house owners. A couple of minutes passed before a woman, wearing sunglasses entered the room, behind her was a man: “Everything clear, ma’am. No violence needed either.” He’s American. From the south I would even say Deep, long, slow words, with an immense rolled sound, must be the south.

The woman kneeled next to the shepherds and talked to them one by one, in Arabic. They answered her one by one, and her face grew more and more annoyed. She then kneeled in front of me: “What about her? Doesn’t look Iraqi to me.” She said and the man briefed her: “She was about to leave the house, hat a bag with many notebooks and various archaeologic books. All English.” She nodded at his words and spoke. “Then I’m sure you understand me girl?” I shook my head and raised an eyebrow: “It’s called racism. Saying somebody doesn’t look like a certain nationality. Girl.” I huffed at her. Her eyes grew big and the man behind her, tried clearly not to laugh. She then looks at the man behind her, “You said books in her bag. A passport too?” he only shook his head in response. “My passport is in my pocket.” I told her and she stood up. “Check her lieutenant.” She told the man, and he put his gun aside, walking to me.

He then pulled me up and patted me down. As he found my passport he chuckled, “British.” He gave the passport to the women. “What’s your business with the house owners?” She asked. I looked her dead in the eyes. “I’m an archaeologist. My team and I stay here, because the location where we work is only couple of miles from here.” She sighed at my response. “This is a waste, those are just shepherds, the activity he was seen, must have been you then. What was Eric thinking. Untie her lieutenant. Sergeant, untie the shepherds.” She said waving at another man and left the room. - “Thanks.” I said as the man untied me.

“So, your name is y/n? That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl.” The lieutenant said as he walked me to the main door. “First, thanks, but second, I’m not a girl, I’m a 29 years old women.” – “Guess I messed up already. No date then?” he stopped and looked back at me. I giggled at him. “Well maybe, mister military, you can come visit me sometimes when I’m back home. But it’s quite a long way from the USA to London.” I gave him a light nudge at the shoulder, without a warning he came two or even three steps closer, looking into my eyes. “To visit a beautiful woman like you, there is no way to far.” He whispered at me. With that he opened the door and signed me to go through. I stepped outside and searched for a little card in my bag. “Here, Lieutenant. Call me.” I offered him a business card, with a big smile, he took it. “University of Oxford. My luck, by the way, It’s Jason. Have a nice day ma’am.” He said waving me off. I waved back and walked to my car.

As I just turned away from Jason, shots fired. “Fuck!” I yelled and jumped in cover of my car. Then all I could realise, was chaos. Shots, bombs, crashing helicopters, yelling and screaming people. I tried to get around the car to hide near the old stable buildings, when suddenly the floor collapsed. “y/n!” Jason yelled from my left as I looked at him, I felt how everything underneath is breaking apart. “NO!” I tried to jump away, but almost lost balance, when a strong hand gabbed my arm and pulled me back up. A man with an Iraq uniform pulled me up “Go this way!” he pointed to the mountains, I didn’t care who he was, he saved me and I started running again, just then. I fell again. And this time for good. Everything turned black.

As I opened my eyes, I felt a sharp pain in my whole body. I looked around and realised right away where I was. “Holy shit. Found it!” I jumped up, just to regret it right away, as my body felt like broken. Stretching and checking for any wounds, I was shocked how lucky I got. A few scratches and bruises. But nothing serious. Then I took my bag and checked for my camera. Still working, great. I took photos of the immense pillars, old statues and Jason. Wait, Jason? “JASON!?” I yelled. – “Y/n! Are you alright?” out of nowhere, Jason appeared and came right away to me. He checked me left, right, up and down. I tried to calm him down, but he seemed nervous. “Jason, I’m fine, really.” – “No, maybe you have some injuries we don’t see right away.” – “Jason, I’m serious!” I yelled at him and pulled him by the shoulders. “I’m just a little cold. But it’s alright.” I tried my best to convince him that I was fine. He let out a deep sigh, and eventually calmed down. “I don’t have anything to warm you up. I could hug you, but that wouldn’t last long.” He smiled at me concerned, but I nudged him at the shoulder, “Yeah yeah, you just want some physical contact. Let’s check if somebody needs help.” He nodded at me and followed me through the darkness.

After quite some time striving through the darkness and me taking pictures from almost everything. We heard a male voice from behind “Put that gun down and turn slowly around.” I didn’t hesitate and lifted my arms up and turned around. “It’s you!” I said, looking at the Iraq soldier who saved me the first time I was falling. He smiled relieved at me, and I took my arms down again “You saved me, thank you.” I said, but then I realised Jason had turned around, but he had his gun aimed tight. “Don’t do anything stupid, boy.” The man said to Jason. “I can say the same to you, old man.” Jason hissed back. I took a deep breath and moved slowly between the two guns. “No one is shooting anyone, if I am here. Please.” My words were trembling. Not sure if I would make it out alive of here. The Iraq soldier lowered his gun and put it back into the holster. “I don’t want to spill anymore blood.” He spoke slowly, approaching me carefully, “You look like you are cold.” He said and took his jacket off.

“Don’t you fucking go any step closer to her. Y/n, get behind me, now!” Jason yelled, slowly approaching me as well, just that he had his damn gun still aimed. “Jason, stop it.” I said, placing my hand on top of his gun, slowly pushing it down. “I trust him. He saved me, not even knowing who I am.” – “I don’t.” Jason cut me off. The man lifted his arms, in one hand holding his jacket. “I know who you are. Your name is y/n l/n. You are an archaeologist. My son, Zain, has been running around your research area, every day for the last two weeks. He talked about you a lot.” He spoke slowly handing his jacket over to me. I took it. “Thank you” I spoke quiet. “Yeah, I know Zain. He’s a smart boy. Wants me to take him back to England.” I giggled at him. “It’s his birthday today. My name is Salim.” He smiled at me. I can’t let Jason harm him. Technically seen, I know Salim. What am I supposed to tell his son. Sorry, your dad died, because he tried to give me his jacket. I shook my head, throwing the jacket over my shoulders, I looked at Jason once more. “Come on. He’s not the enemy.” Jason only looked at Salim, with distrust. Then Salim spoke to Jason, directly. “You want to get out of here, so do I. We must work together. Not shoot each other.”

Jason finally took the gun down. “I’ll keep an eye on you.” He said, pointing at Salim. I nudged Jason slightly against the shoulder. He will have bruise by the end of the day. Then we continued the way to find others. What felt like hours, were actually only a couple of minutes, but the fact that these two were arguing the whole time about military, racism, politics, terrorists and other stuff like lieutenant ranks, was killing every last nerve of me. As walked some ancient stairs up, I heard voices arguing. I pressed each of the two man a finger on the mouth, so they would finally shut up. Then pointed to the big door at the end of the stairs. Salim and Jason both, walked past me with aimed guns. I stayed behind and waited for a sign. It took too long for my taste, so I entered the room quietly and stood next to Salim. In the big room where machine guns, tables, radios, papers and more. It was the heart of this temple. An old archaeologist station. Just as I wanted to check the papers, Salim pulled me back. I looked at him and he looked at me, then around the room. As I followed his view, it was clear the situation was tense. Iraqi soldiers and Americans were with aimed guns standing against each other. Just Salim and Jason didn’t pick a side. “It’s a damn order Kolchek!” A blonde man yelled. “I don’t take orders 200 ft below the surface.” Was Jasons answer. What badass.

“Ehm, excuse me.” I spoke and walked a few steps in front of Jason and Salim. Both men grabbed me by my arms and wanted to pull me back. “I got this, don’t worry.” I spoke, they hesitated but let me go. I took around 3 steps more and spoke softly. “My name is y/n l/n. I’m an archaeologist. And a professor at the University of Oxford. I don’t have anything to do with both of your countries, and honestly not much knowledge about the current issues between you. But technically seen, you are on my research territory. I would really not like to call the local police, or clean your blood from ancient coins, so if you’d be so kind and do not fire a single bullet on MY ground. Would be so wonderful. Thank you.” I looked back and while Jason smiled amused, Salim was shaking his head. I ignored all military personal and made my way to the tables. 10 years of drama class is finally paying out, they have no idea I was terrified to the bones. One by one soldier eventually took their guns down and they made a hand sealed deal, to not shoot a bullet on or near my research territory.

It worked. Good job. As I checked the first papers, I realised, this is like heaven. I took more photos from everything. This time, again from Jason, but also from Salim. Both smiled at the camera. “Come on y/n. We have to get out of here for now.” Jason spoke as he followed the others. “What about all this then? This is the only reason I am in this country at all.” I asked frustrated. Jason chuckled, “You’ll come back. But now we need to go. It’s not safe.” I let out a sigh and started following them, as the most people left the sight, Salim, Jason and I were the last. They talked different this time, more like allies.

As we made it closer to the surface, I could see the sun finally again. It was warmer here than down back there. Different helicopters were heard, people yelling, dogs barking. They must be searching already. Ropes hang down and flashlights were blinding us. I tried to cover my eyes, what was not a good idea, so close next to an underground cliff. With a crack, the ground beneath me broke and I all felt was the heavy forces of gravity. “Y/n!” was the last thing I heard before the heavy impact on a sand pile.

First my back, then my face, then both hands and at last the back again. “Ouch, Fuck!” I cursed with an echo. As I opened my eyes, pain everywhere. Looking around and above, it was almost pitch black. I gave my bag to Jason earlier, so luckily my camera didn’t come down with me. But also, my flashlight was not with me. Slowly I tried to get used to the darkness and to see anything. I touched along the cliff where I have fallen from. I heard echoes, but it was inaudible, what means I’m either deaf or I’m very deep. Following the cliff to the right, it ended in water. With wet shoes, I turned around and walked to the left. My hands along the ice-cold stone, they slowly froze. Luckily, I have Salim’s jacket, my arms would be more bruised. I continued walking along the cliff as I felt that the ground got higher. I might could climb out of here. If the others think I’m dead? Trying to shake that thought away, I pushed myself the higher grounds up and felt how the light slowly came back to me. It seems my eyes were partially blind due to the fall. So, I might have not fallen that deep.

It feels like hours as I finally reached an open area where lights came from ahead. Still far away. To my bad, I started freezing again. This time, it felt more like I was freezing because I was alone. I sat down to the cold ground. “Why does every time go everything wrong. And why does nobody care for me.” I muffled beneath my breath and closed my eyes. “You really thought we wouldn’t care?” A southern accent ripped me out of my thoughts, I opened my eyes and saw Jason above me. “She’s here!” He yelled across the area; it echoed in the entire cave. Jason smiled at me and began stroking my face. Then Salim came from behind him. His face was a mess, a mix of horror, fear, worries, but happiness. “What are you doing here?” I whispered, not believing if I might hallucinate. Salim looked confused and Jason chuckled, then said: “What do you mean? We- ” Salim interrupted him: “We came for you.” At his words, my eyes started tearing up, but my mind was a mess of emotions, incapable to say anything.

Jason helped me up, then he lifted me on Salim’s back. “I’ll be behind you, so you can’t fall off.” Jason spoke softly, rubbing my back. Salim turned his head a little, “We won’t let you fall ever again. I promise.” He whispered to me. As they started climbing towards the surface I started to cry silently. How do I deserve them. My life was all the opposite of support, care and understanding. But these two give me the feeling I’m worthy to be alive. As if they really care. I just met them hours ago, but I have the unbelievable urge, to never let go of them. I wanted to thank them, but no word left my mouth. “We’ll be taking you to a hospital.” Jason said from behind us. I shook my head heavy. “No… They’ll maybe… send me home.” It was so exhausted. Salim spoke a little louder now, “But you need to rest Habibti. No arguing.” – “What you said?” I heard that word before, what I wasn’t sure what it meant. Salim chuckled, “It means ‘my love’.” He called me his love? Was he thinking the same about me as I was thinking about him? Or is this standard kindness in Iraq. Anyway, he was right. I feel more and more like I’m fainting; my body hurts bad. But I know I didn’t break any bones. 

After a while, we finally reached the exit to the surface. Salim let me down slowly, Jason helped, so I won’t fall. “I’m alright. You can stop pretending that every bone of mine is broken.” My voice was angry. I was a little frustrated, they acted as if I have been a small child. Jason took my chin in one hand and whispered. “We will not let go of you anymore, next time you fall, you might break your neck.” He was right, but still. A little less overprotection please. “Let’s get her out of here.” Salim tied a climbing rope around me, from above two people were standing. “Pull her up guys.” Jason yelled above. Then Jason and Salim started climbing themselves. “You know, I grew up in caves, temples, pyramids and castles. I know how to climb.” I crossed my hands in front of my chest and puffed my checks in protest, as they pulled me up slowly. “Y/n stop arguing. You have fallen very deep, you might pass out, let go of the rope and fall again.” Salim spoke concerned. “I promise you, once we made sure you are on solid ground and doctors gives their ok. You are free to do whatever you like.” He said, Jason cut him off. “Except going down here again. First this must secure. I guess the local police will do that?” I nodded at him. “Yes, they usually do. First, I just want to take a shower and then sleep.” Both men laughed and agreed.

Reaching the surface, the sun almost blinded me, then my heart stopped beating. The shepherd’s hut was in bad condition. Parts have fallen into the ground; few smaller buildings were destroyed from bombs and bullets. “The poor people. Their homes. This must have been the worst day of their life.” I sighed and sat on the ground to take in the information, my eyes gave me. Jason stood beside me and laid his hand on my head. “Sorry about that. We will find you another place to stay.” – “No.” I said, “I will of course stay here and help them where I can, just as my team will do, probably.” Then Salim kneeled next to me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “For now, the police have to secure the area.” He spoke softly. “You should come with me. To rest.” His warm smile was so beautiful. I look him in the eyes, ready to speak as Jason’s huffed so loud, few people around us were suddenly looking at him. I looked at him worried and saw how he frowned. “To your place? Yeah, sure.” He shook his head and turned to leave. Salim stood up, “I hoped you’d come with us as well, or maybe join us later, when you get a free from your duty.” As Salim spoke, Jason stopped.

“As if you would want me there. You want to have y/n all for yourself. I’m not blind!” he spoke loud and angry. But also, sad. He didn’t even turn around to face us directly. I got up from the ground and wanted to walk to him, but Salim stopped me. “And I am not blind either. I see how much you care. Just as I do. And I know, you and I care for each other, just as we did, when we worked together to get her back.” Salim was so calm, I doubt I could ever be mad at him, and it seems Jason thought the same. He turned around, his face eventually softer. But before he could speak, I took Salim’s hand and reached out for Jason as well. “How about that date we talked earlier, Marine. I think I owe you two some nice dinner? For getting me out there.” Jason smiled at my offer and took my hand. “Alright, alright, you got me all wrapped around your finger. So, where’s your place? I think I can’t join right away, but I’ll be there for dinner then.” His voice was finally as it was when we met earlier. Not that tense, not worried, just Jason. Salim chuckled and wrote a little note for Jason. He hugged me tight, before he had to return to his team.

Salim and I started walking to my car. “What a miracle that piece of junk didn’t went diving.” I said honestly surprised. Salim and I laughed at my really bad joke and got in the car. He drove, first to my research place, to inform the others about what happened. “They won’t believe it.” I sighed. “Not until they come back to the hut and see with their own eyes.” Salim said and gave me an assuring pat on my shoulder. I nodded, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to put my legs up, everything is sore.” I sighed again. He chuckled and brushed over my arm, “first, you need to take a shower. I will not let you get in my bed or couch that dirty.” I laughed and took his hand in mine. Holding hands, we made our way. I can’t wait to see Jason again. How can you fall for two people. I guess it’s because I have a very big heart. Maybe? Polyamorous it’s called. I’m not sure what future will hold, but I’m thankful for the moments I will have with the two. Every single second.

So what do you think? Second chapter? Or should i just extend the ending a bit? Or is it fine that way? Please let me know ^^

-Livana

[ordon-shield]

Febuwhump Day 10 (Difficulty Breathing): Seeing Through Malice

ao3 link here (2nd in a series)

(content warning for: implied torture, mild body horror)

Link woke up slowly, in bits and starts, his body aching and his eyes bleary. His awareness of the world around him came back just as slowly. He was lying down on something made of coarse cloth that grated painfully across his skin, with hard stone underneath. Everything hurt, his skin, his chest, his throat, and his head. He also felt a dull aching pain in his right eye, but compared to everything else, that was minor.

Finally managing to get up, even as his limbs protested against it, trying to figure out his surroundings. He was in a small stone room, with no visible exit outside of a small hole up in the ceiling that the sun was shining through, projecting a small square of light onto the stone wall behind him. He was missing his clothes and gear, including the Slate, replaced instead with bandages wrapped tightly around much of his body. He could also tell that a salve of some sort had been used on them, so whoever had brought him there didn’t want him dead at the very least. In the centre of the room, he spotted a bowl of cold rice and a mug of water alongside a couple of bananas, still attached by their stems. He chuckled to himself, suddenly realising where he was, before doubling over in a coughing fit.

He tried to breath through the coughs, short gasps as the pain grew in his chest and phlegm found its way up his throat. Rolling over onto his back, he managed to stop, taking deep and slow breaths as his heart races. Carefully trying to sit up again, he felt phlegm gather in his throat, before another fit of coughing engulfed him, sending it out of his mouth and drooping down his face. Wiping it off with his hand, he realised something odd. The substance sticking to his fingers was darker than it had any right to be, a familiar black stained through with that shimmering familiar pink shine. His chest tightened as he realised he’d just coughed up malice.

Link remembered now, what had happened at the ruins, how he’d been trapped in the pool of malice, being eaten away at by it until he’d managed to pull himself free. Bile rose in his throat and somewhere in his mind he wondered if that would be stained by the physical manifestation of hatred as well. He wondered though, why the Yiga who’d held him down, condemning him to a torturous death, had brought him here. He was a prisoner, but a prisoner with treated wounds and meals, which confused him. In his experience, the Yiga tended to attack first, ask questions never, ruthlessly trying to kill him every time they met. This last time had been no different until he’d rolled out of the malice and been met with a blade to the throat, but nothing else.

He managed to eat the food at least, swallowing it down despite the bile that struggled to rise through his throat. He lay down after, watching from where he’d woken up as the light projected onto the wall slowly moved until the sun began to set, sending golden sunbeams into the stone room.

It was then that the blademaster arrived, appearing into the cell with the sound of displaced air and ominous silence. Link had heard of the Yiga blademasters before, rumours floating around the stables and villages, but he’d only fought the one who came for Dorian and the Sheikah heirloom in Kakariko. He glared up at the taller man, knowing that even if he couldn’t fight in his current state, he could still refuse to answer any questions asked of him, no matter what they might do to him. The blademaster simply picked up the remains of his meal.

“Why—,” he was cut off by a cough, “— why am I here?”

“I asked that question myself,” the blademaster responded, “but the scout who brought you in brought up a good argument… after all, Lord Ganon himself has marked you.”

Link flinched back, but the blademaster just chuckled at the fear on his face, unsheathing his blade and tilting it into the light just so, so that Link could see the reflection of his own face staring back at him, his right eye unrecognisable. While his left was the familiar blue he’d known all his life, all of it that he could remember at least, the right burned with hatred like a flame, the darkened sclera surrounding the familiar slit of an eye of malice, like he’d seen all across Hyrule.

@febuwhump

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

Hey, you

this is basically the first meeting for the this means war au

warnings: violence, death, brief mentions of corpses, heavy themes, swearing

I sit on the window ledge, legs dangling over the edge as I look at the picture cradled in my hands.

A man.

With long blonde hair and grey eyes, grinning at the camera, half looking like he’s about to start laughing.

His eyes sparkle.

His arms are wrapped around a woman who looks like she’s in the middle of saying something. Her eyes are lit up too and

She’s me.

And that man in the photo is my closest friend, Jax and well…

…

I squeeze the locket in my hands harder as I try to fight back the building tears, taking a shuddering breath as I look up at the barren landscape we’re currently in, the sky finally starting to change colour as the sun starts to rise.

…I haven’t seen him in years.

He’s been taken. Possibly killed and the world’s gone to shit and

And well, I’ve been trying to find answers ever since.

I look down again, taking in his face once more, trying to feel the warmth of his arms around me for just a second before, after wiping away the tears, I snap the locket shut and hide it under my shirt once more.

There’s a building not far from the half collapsed structure my squad is currently holed up in and in a few hours, we’re planning to go in there guns blazing.

It’s suspected to be one of the structures producing those…things that have ravaged the earth for years now. Warmachines. Monsters.

And there’s going to be resistance so

I take a shaky breath to clear my head

I…need to go prepare

-

It’s going well

I dodge the swipe of razor sharp claws before getting a better grip on my knife and lunging, stabbing sideways through the creature’s eye and burying the blade in its brain.

It’s practiced and the creature collapses dead before it can so much as yelp.

I turn, just managing to catch the movement of something barrelling towards me before it collides, throwing me off my feet and pinning me to the ground.

There’s growling, a dog like muzzle inches from my face now and in the half second it takes for it to expose its snake like fangs, head already moving to rip my throat out, I pull the gun from the loop in my belt and shoot two bullets right down its throat.

I push it off before scanning the field around me.

There’s casualties, there’s always casualties, but at least this time there’s more malformed animal corpses littering the ground this time.

I sigh, watching as a man I barely even know deals with the last of them and I take a moment to calm down before turning to look at that damned building in the distance.

Waves and waves of creatures had been pouring out of that roach nest for a while now.

But now it just stands there.

It’s quiet and for just a second, I think it’s finally over, aching arms relaxing against my sides.

But then…something else starts coming out the doorway and I move to ready myself for the next fight, pulling my weapons from my belt once more as the thing…

As it starts oozing out of the building, the sunlight glinting off of what…

…what…

…what is that?

-

…where…where am I?

I…there’s so many new sensations screaming for my attention it’s hard to focus. There’s something below me and a blinding light above. There’s bumps and wind and sound and a dull yellow and bright blue and white and noise and a metallic smell and dust and the ground slowly moving below and it’s all so much.

I don’t…know where I am. Why I’m here. I remember I was…I was going to the store to get something for my friend and then…then just flashes. There was pain and some horrible creature and yelling and more pain and then…nothing. …I remember thinking about someone though, thinking about them a lot during the nothing. Me and her. The two of us against the world. I…she…my head hurts. The…sun shines overhead and it’s hot on my skin and my body doesn’t feel right.

I seem to be in some sort of…desert, I think. There’s sand beneath my feet and every time I stumble, something steadies me. The ground doesn’t look right.

Why am I here?

There’s a new noise now. Too loud. Yelling. Gun fire, I recognize the sound. Pain. Not a lot but still there. Persistent. Stinging like bug bites.

The source seems to be coming from something on the ground ahead. I can make out a multitude of…something. Bugs maybe. I want to see at least. If it’s a nest, I’ll walk away. I don’t want any trouble.

I stop just short of the swarm, looking down at it, trying to clear my vision as I try to make out what they are.

And then my heart stops dead.

Those aren’t bugs. Those are people. Those are people.

Scanning the crowd, I see masses of terrified faces, all staring at me. All brandishing weapons. All in the same uniform. All staring at me.

Were they going to kill me? …was I going to kill them?

What am I? Why am I here?

I’m about to back away in horror when one of the faces catches my attention.

It’s…

Her

-

Silence.

None of us dare move as the massive thing scans the group over and over again. It formed on the way here, something slowly rising out of the sea of black sludge as it made its way forward, tendrils shooting from its body to steady itself whenever it stumbled and now it now looms over us, its huge eyes just watching. It doesn’t seem to have been able to fully form yet though, a sharp splat ringing out as a mass of sludge falls off its face and hits the ground just in front of us. The sudden noise causes several to flinch but

It’s strange. The beast isn’t attacking at all. And it looks almost…humanoid.

We’re all dead silent as its eyes trail over us again and again. Tense, waiting. Even if this thing did attack, would we be able to take it on? It’s huge, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Even its shadow seems to lower the temperature by a few degrees. My knife wouldn’t make a dent in it. Hell, the turrets didn’t even seem to do anything. So for now, we wait. Maybe if we’re lucky this thing’ll lose interest and we can come back when we’re actually prepared. I clench my teeth as those irises finally pass over me and

And they stay there.

And I

I can’t breathe.

Those eyes widen.

And then everything goes to hell.

The thing is falling, what slowly looks more and more like a human head getting closer and closer as the massive thing starts to plummet. I watch in what feels like slow motion as it descends. There’s a horrible rush of wind that blows back our clothes and stings our eyes as the air screams to get out of its way.

And then it hits

And the impact of it so much, too much, it knocks all of us off our feet, launches us in the air and sends our turrets flying. I quickly check for any injures and then on the status of the people around me. No one injured but the unmanned turrets are shot. I finally bring myself to look past all the other soldiers and

We’re completely surrounded.

By what looks like the massive things’ legs as it kneels over us. It…fell to its knees? And as I finally force myself to look up and up and up at its face…it’s still watching me, its expression even more distraught now but…

Wait, face?

The face is finally forming. Three eyes. Exposed teeth from a massive tear in one side of its cheek. Brows furrowed.

Eyes horrified.

Staring at me.

Features getting more and more prominent as the sludge on its face knits itself into something comprehensive. Something…

…familiar?

The thing opens its too long mouth before closing it again. Tries again, head bobbing as it tries to do…whatever it is. It opens its mouth once more and this time-

“…m…Mi…a?”

The voice washes over the now silent battlefield.

It knows my name.

I can’t move. Can’t fucking breath at the face now staring down at me.

It’s…

Him

My friend.

Jax.

This is cruel. This is just too cruel.

A shapeshifting monster masquerading as my dead fucking friend.

The monster wearing Jax’s face stares down at me and the desperation in its eyes is too much.

It’s an almost perfect replica minus the teeth and the extra eye and the ridiculous size, the way its brow creases further as it waits for a response, tilting its head slightly in confusion like he used to.

Tears are starting to well up in its eyes too. Black tears that don’t really look like tears at all, trailing down its face as it watches me.

And now I’m angry. This monster is good at acting and it pisses me off. Jax is dead. He’s fucking dead and they took him from me. And now this?

Jax wanted to be an actor before all of this. He practiced and signed up for any gigs he could find and now he’s gone and whatever this thing is is pretending to be him.

And I’m terrified.

Terrified of the giant on its knees before us, around us, but even so, I grab my locket with one hand, squeezing it so tight the metal digs into my skin, while the other draws my gun.

I aim it right at the stupid things’ head, my heart twisting into a knot at the monsters face as I aim right between its eyes.

And then I pull the trigger.

The shot echoes in the silence and

It does nothing.

But all the same the monster flinches.

Besides that it doesn’t budge. Doesn’t leave, doesn’t attack, doesn’t do anything. It just stares down at me with Jax’s eyes and Jax’s expressions and there’s a pain in my chest as the black tear things start to increase in volume.

“…Mia,” the monster whispers again in Jax’s voice, “…please, I…I’m…it’s me…”

I’m silent as I watch it bawl, my heart crying with it but all the same I grit my teeth. This isn’t fair. What did I do to deserve this? This is overkill. This isn’t right.

I fire again and again and all the while it pleads with me, flinching every time a bullet hits it. Eventually the bullets run out and I’m left with the repeated clicks of an empty chamber. Frustrated, I throw the gun at the monster before taking out my knife and throwing that too.

My heart hurts and hurts and hurts and I’m tired. I’m tired of fighting and I’m tired of the endless war and I’m fucking tired. I want to scream. Why isn’t this thing attacking? Why is it acting like this? What is it doing?

I grit my teeth as the thing goes on and on, begging, pleading, filling the air with stolen words

“..please, I don’t want to hurt you…please I just…Mia, I-”

“SHUT UP!”

The monster’s mouth snaps shut even though it’s visibly shaking now, black tears hitting the ground in front of me like a fucked up waterfall as it watches me in silence.

There’s nothing else to throw and my eyes are starting to blur with tears and it’s hugging itself and it hurts and it hurts and-

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?” I’m losing my composure in front of my entire division but I. Don’t. Care. “EITHER SLAUGHTER US LIKE THE REST OF YOUR FUCKING KIND OR JUST FUCKING LEAVE.”

The monster shakes its head frantically and I can tell it’s about to start babbling again so I cut it off. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t…I don’t know…I was…I needed to get to the store to get us some groceries and then….and then…I,” it shakes its head. “Mia, where are we? …I-”

“And then what?”

The monster pulls back a bit and starts whispering. “The grocery store,” it says again. “You were…you were waiting for me back…back home and…we were going to watch…something together and…I…went to the grocery store to get us some…some snacks and I never…I never got back and you said you’d wait for me to…to start the movie and…oh my God, Mia…how…how long were you waiting?”

My throat starts to close as I stare up at the monster. It sounds like him, it looks like him. They even gave it some of his memories. I’m tired. I’m so so tired of waiting and waiting and hoping for some fucking sliver of something. Some indication that my friend is dead or alive or anything and…

And now I have my proof.

I take a step forward as the monster watches me in silence.

“What was the movie?”

“…something…something about sea monsters…”

Another step forward.

“What food were you going to get for…us?”

“…popcorn. You wanted that…that fancy gourmet one and…and…”

Another step forward.

“What happened at the supermarket?”

“…I…I can’t…I can’t remember. There was…light and I was coming back and…then…darkness…”

It could be telling the truth. Or it could be lying. I need to think of something else, at least enough questions to distract this beast so everyone else can get away. I need to-

“…locket…,” the giant mutters. There’s almost what looks like a smile on its lips now.

Locket?

I look down at the hand still gripping the necklace like a lifeline, knuckles already pale from the lack of circulation. I slowly pry my hands off the metal and hold it out in front of me. “…this?”

The thing’s eyes seem to light up a bit when it sees it, irises tracking the movement as it swings.

The smile grows just slightly. “You…kept it…”

Ah.

A locket Jax came home with one day before the world went to shit. Said he saw it and even though I’m not really a jewelry person, that he thought it would look nice on me. And then he’d reached into his bag and pulled out a gigantic gaudy blue-gold rectangle pendant and I told him I’d rather die. And we both laughed.

And I kept it.

Never brought it up again cuz I didn’t want him to make fun of me for being so sentimental.

There’s tears pooling in my eyes now. “…are you…really him? …Jax?”

The man nods slowly.

And now I don’t know.

There’s doubt there now. Doubt and the tiniest little spark of hope that I can’t quite seem to put out.

Still, I’m not stupid.

Whatever this thing is, a monster or somehow what’s left of Jax doesn’t really matter to me.

If it looks like Jax then it’s here for me.

And I’m…I’m tired.

I’m tired of fighting.

I’m tired of hoping.

I’m tired of waiting.

I’m tired of mourning.

Jax or what’s left of him or whatever those assholes threw together to mess with me is finally here. After all this time I’ve waited. I gaze into the monster’s eyes and slowly raise both my arms to it.

An invitation, a simple one too.

Take me.

And so after a few moments, the thing that could be Jax complies, reaching out and pressing my body between digits large enough to completely engulf me with their fingertips. The fingers start to press together and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the pain but restless to be with Jax once again.

The pressure increases just slightly and I try to imagine Jax waiting for me on the other side as I clench my teeth and

…

and…the pressure…stops.

Instead of killing me, the monster simply picks me up, my feet soon hanging in the air as my ears pop with the sudden change in air pressure. And then just like that, the pressure releases me and I brace myself for the long fall

And land on a warm, plush surface instead.

The ground below me twitches and looking down, I see flesh. Turn around and see structures that stretch upwards like buildings. 5 of them…fingers.

“I...I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” a soft, impossibly loud voice echoes from behind and turning, I barely bite back a yelp when I see what my brain takes a few seconds too long to register as an eye, the pupil of it larger than I am.

It blinks and I flinch and it…he pulls back slightly. “Sorry, I just…you’re really small now, M.”

I vaguely feel like I’m in a fever dream. “Me? I’m not the one who caused a fucking earthquake by being too dramatic, big guy.”

There’s a pause as what I just said dawns on the two of us. Then we both start laughing.

I think I’m hysterical right now, to be honest. I think Jax is too. My head feels funny and my heart is racing and I’m still coated in monster blood and Jax just crawled out of whatever hell he had to endure this whole time but still, even as his now booming laughter shakes the world and hurts my ears, I just…I feel okay.

He pulls back again so I can see more of his face. “I missed you. I’d give you a hug but…well, you know.”

I hold out my arms to him and he cocks his head slightly. “…I…don’t know what you want me to do here, M.”

I wiggle my arms at him while he stares at me helplessly until finally, he starts moving forward. I hold my breath as I watch him approach but stand my ground until all at once, a giant cinderblock of a nose crashes into me and I wrap my arms around what I can of him. And with a sigh that almost sends me flying, he leans into the touch.

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again. “…wait, let me just…” Something presses into me from behind and stays there. “There we go. …oh,” the voice trembles through my body as he speaks. “Mia, you’re shaking.”

I just grip onto him tighter and in return the pressure behind me increases just slightly.

“I…I missed you…a lot,” he finally mutters.

“…I missed you too.”

“Mia?”

“Jax?”

“…how long was I…gone?”

Silence.

I lean into him and he leans back.

“…Mia-”

“6 years.”

Silence.

“…oh.”

He shuffles slightly.

“…I’m sorry, M.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“Okay.”

Jax leans in closer as he takes another breath, this one a much longer exhale that tapers off in a whimper. He’s starting to shake again.

“I…I don’t recognize any of our surroundings and you…you were shooting at me, Mia. You had a gun. And you were with people in uniforms and they-” I can feel him starting to shift against me, nose moving away and all at once I can tell he wants to look at the group again. While they’re trying to leave.

I reach forward to put a hand on him and he freezes. “Don’t,” I whisper. “Let them go.”

“…let them…oh no, I wasn’t going to…,” his shaking gets worse. “…I…I fell…and…oh God, are they okay? Did any of them…did I…”

“You didn’t. Everyone’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod and he all but collapses into my arms again, the weight flattening me against the thing behind me.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, voice once again heavy with tears.

“It’s okay.”

“I wasn’t going to stop them.”

“I know that. But they don’t.”

“You have scars on your face now. And you’re covered in…?”

“Blood.”

There’s a small gasp.

“Who’s blood?”

“Monsters.”

“Like…like…me?”

“You’re not a monster.”

“You said I was.”

“You’re not.”

The man shudders again and I pat his nose even as my own heartrate spikes with the movement.

“6 years,” he whispers.

“I know. I…counted every single day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

“…okay.”

Something is…wrong. The part of his nose I’m curled around is starting to feel…less solid. And my shoes are starting to sink even more into the surface of his palm.

“The locket,” Jax says as the surface of his nose grows…slippery? Is he sweating?

“Yeah?”

“…sentimental.”

I snort and he chuckles a little.

“I was right though. It does look good on you. …did you put anything in it?”

“…there’s a picture of you in it.”

“…oh.”

Behind me, the wall of flesh that I can only assume is a finger shifts a bit, like he’s rubbing my back. The movement feels sluggish.

“…what happened while I was gone?”

“World’s gone to shit. Monsters everywhere. You know, the usual.”

“…how did that happen?”

I shrug. “If I knew then I wouldn’t have had to lug this eyesore around for so long.”

He laughs at that. It sounds sad.

“You have no idea how hard it is to fight with this thing on. Moving around and shit when I’m trying to dodge. I swear it actively weighs me down.”

“You don’t have to wear it.”

“Yeah I do.”

It’s definitely getting worse now, whatever’s happening to him. I’m actively starting to sink. The ground below me isn’t solid and my face is starting to move into the thing that’s supposed to be the tip of Jax’s nose.

I close my eyes and force myself to focus on his voice.

“Mia?”

“Jax?”

“…how long were you supposed to keep me busy so your team could get away?”

“…to be honest…I…wasn’t supposed to survive.”

“…oh.”

Everything gets worse as the man starts to heave again. Everything around me is starting to lose texture. I try to calm down.

“…I’m sorry for screaming at you earlier. I…thought it wasn’t really you, you know? I thought you were a monster.”

“…I am.”

“You’re not. You just have an extra eye and exposed teeth.”

“…I what?”

I just shrug into him, the surface below easily moving with my shoulders. “I’m sorry I doubted you though. And shot you. And threw shit at you. …though in my defense, I thought you’d been dead for-”

“6 years?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t.”

The man chuckles at that and I find my arms are starting to move through his form.

“…thank you for believing me. I…really thought you wouldn’t but…”

It’s hard to lean closer when my body seems to be actively sinking into him now. “…I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t apologize.”

We both laugh at that.

“Jax?”

“Yeah, M?”

“I…hope this isn’t rude but…what’s going on with your body?”

“…my-” he cuts himself off with a gasp. “What? Oh no. Oh no no no no no no. I- SHIT.”

The ground below is no longer solid but it’s somehow still holding me up. I can feel myself start to…lower if the air currents are anything to go by. The nose is no longer solid, the pressure on my back starting to wrap around me as we go down.

I keep my eyes closed.

My feet touch down on something solid and slowly, whatever is surrounding me starts to detach itself from me.

“…Mia, I…I have to go,” Jax’s voice somehow comes from below me now. But all the same, my heart falls at his words.

“What?”

“I’m a monster, M.” It’s a pained whisper.

“Jax, you-” I’m interrupted when something wraps around me for just a moment before letting go once more.

“Thank you, Mia. For everything.”

And then a noise, like nothing I’ve ever heard before slowly getting farther away.

My eyes fly open and I’m on the ground again. Alone. There’s something moving away from me though.

Sludge.

A massive fucking ocean of pitch black sludge.

Jax had been sludge before he…stabilized. And then he…destabilized again. And now he’s

I’m a monster, M.

He’s fucking leaving.

I don’t think before I start running. I’m exhausted. Scared. Confused but…that’s my fucking friend out there.

“JAX!” I call out to him as my feet pound into the parched ground and the necklace bumps against my chest. “JAX, WAIT! PLEASE!”

Surprisingly enough, the lake of sludge just stops. And then the front of it shifts slightly, like it…he’s looking over his shoulder.

It’s horrifying to look at so I finally avert my gaze, looking at a caved in building slightly to the left, closing my eyes once more. I take a moment to keep the shake out of my voice before I continue. “Maybe we…maybe could work something out.”

“You’re scared of me,” Jax says quietly.

“I…I know but I…”

Jax waits quietly and even then I just want to pull him into a hug and never let go. I take a slow breath. “I…I don’t want you to leave me again.”

Silence.

Then

“…what did you have in mind?”

-

This should be the place.

I told him where the camp and the long abandoned buildings that surrounded it were. I just need to find the door that’s closed. It doesn’t take too long to eventually find the one I’m looking for, a tall hollowed out skyscraper with a few windows looking into the ground floor. I keep my eyes fixed on the ground as I pass them.

Once I reach the door, I take in a breath and knock, three quick notes and two slow ones.

Nothing.

And then my heart jumps as the rhythm is replicated from the other side.

I sigh and slowly sit down, leaning against the door with my back to it.

The wind blows slightly through smashed out windows and whistles past empty streets.

But then there’s a noise.

Just behind me. Behind the door.

One that sends a shiver travelling up my spine, an awful squelching as something moves down to my level. There’s more noise. A shuffling, and finally,

“…Mia? You there?”

[lillykayewrites]

CHANGE ME CHAPTER FOURTEEN:

Letting out a small yawn, I had read yet another chapter waiting for William to get out of the bathroom.

"My poor water bill..." I said looking at the clock on my phone. "It's been and hour."

Sighing, I shrug off my slight annoyance. I mean, he hasn't showered it thirty five years, so I'll give him a break this time. But tomorrow... all bets are off.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, William opened the bathroom door with an ambiance of steam behind him.

"You wanna help me pay for that water bill?" I asked as I William stepped into the room with a towel around his waist.

"So what's my surprise?~" William asked impatiently completely ignoring my annoyance and giving me a wide, shit eating grin.

"First, put these on." I said handing a pair of  black sweat pants, underwear, and a white t-shirt to William.

"Is this not good enough for you Love?" William asked, feignedly hurt, gesturing to his shirtless and... well everything-less body.

Staring the man in the face, I simply answered, "No."

Even though inside my head, I couldn't help but slightly stare at the man's scarred torso and dangerously low and trusted towel. Fighting the rising heat that threatened to blush my cheeks as my increased heartbeat that felt so loud, it would give my me and my bluff away.

Responding to my not so concealed staring, William smirked wider than usual, as he took the clothes and walked back to the bathroom without another glance back. When the door was finally shut, I let out the subconscious breath I was holding.

"God damn..." I whispered to myself, feeling a childish pink arise on my cheeks.

Shaking my head, I scolded myself for letting my eyes trail like that. As I did, William sauntered out of the bathroom in his new clothes as if he were at a fashion show.

"What'dya think yeah?"

"Looks fantastic." I said calmly no longer looking at him as I once again picked up my book to read.

"I haven't looked this effortlessly sexy since ninety three!" He preened as he went to examine himself in the bathroom mirror.

Quietly scoffing, I rolled my eyes as I got out of bed pulling out a folded cot and sleeping bag from the side of my bed.

Coming out from gawking at himself, William continued to slick back his hair as he watched me set up his makeshift bed.

"This is one hell of a surprise..." William uttered sarcastically.

"Would you rather sleep on the floor?" I asked, irritation laced in my voice.

"No, no.... This is nice...Five stars even!" William said snidely.

"Doesn't get any better! Best place in town!"

"I can tell..." William's spoke scornfully.

"Alright. Now that your bed is ready," I gestured at the cot, "I'm heading to bed, and you should too. Tomorrow, we are waking up early to try and get you a job somewhere, and I think I know a place that is at least somewhat reliable..." I chimed. "Because you are going to need to start helping me pay the bills while you here. Because that hour long shower costs me big time here, and that water bill won't pay itself." I said sternly, sending a warning gaze to William, which he once again ignored.

"But most importantly, tomorrow we are going to get you a brand new identity.... starting over from scratch... because you can not just walk around town as William Afton, the former owner of the Freddy Fazbear enterprise, Afton Robotics, and who was under investigation for the murder of 5 children. Who just so happened to mysteriously disappear one day, only to come back, thirty five years into the future the exact same age."

Watching me closely, William's face slowly fell to a dead and expressionless look, that truthfully... unsettled me greatly.

"You don't think I was thinking the same thing?..." His gruff low tone, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You don't think I thought about how I'm am standing alive, the exact same, exact same way of how I looked in 1993?..."

Walking up to me, William glared down into my eyes, his dominating my gaze. His hot breath blew down on me as he intently asked,

"How in the fucking Hell do you know what I've done...?"

Still not breaking eye contact, I was now dominating his glare with a smug expression, "No comment."

An insistent beeping pulled me out of slumber.

I groaned slapping the alarm off on my phone.

Sitting up groggily, I gazed the the cot at the end of my bed where William slept soundly the night before.

But, it was empty.

Staring blankly at it for a couple sleepy brainless moments, I got up.

Tossing open my door, I was greeted with multifarious different scents with the sound of sizzling from my kitchen.

"Good morning Love~"  William chimed, dressed in his new clothes with a grin on his face.

"Good morning…." I furrowed my eyebrows, "Are those omelets?" I asked approaching William's side.

"Well yes they are. I don't want to brag, but I make the best omelets in town." William said confidently, handing me a plate with a beautifully made omelet.

"Oh! Thank you... you really didn't have to make me breakfast..." I hesitantly spoke as I  took the plate from William, grabbing a fork and a knife before sitting down.

"Obviously I know that, but... I thought since you were kind enough to let me stay, the least I can do is make breakfast, yeah?" I softly smiled up at him, as he asked somewhat eagerly, "How is it?"

Taken aback, hearing that he even thought about the hassle of him staying, surprised me.

But nonetheless, I nodded my head politely, as I put a hand to my mouth and smiled. "Itch amaonzong!" I mumbled with the omelet still in my mouth.

Chuckling, William turned back to the stove and finished making his omelets, "I told you they were good!" He said before tearing into his own.

As we finished our breakfast, William took our plates and began washing them off.

"Thank you again for breakfast... that was really good!" I told him genuinely.

"Like I said, it's the least I could do. Plus, I got to see if my cooking skills were still intact after all these years.

As William washed the dishes, I watched him carefully trying to figure him out.

"Why was it so difficult to read him?!" No matter how hard I tried to finally see who he truly was, he would change.

He would go from making flirtatious comments, to choking you to death, then making you omelets.

"He's a psychopath Y/N...a high functioning psychopath to be specific." I thought to myself.

Of course he goes to all sides of the extreme.

He can't help but to do it because it's what he's always done.

That is why he was mentally unstable enough to kill the kids...

Pulling me out of my thoughts, William leaned on the kitchen counter in front of me, "So when are we getting out of here?" He asked me.

"Oh, well I still need to get dressed...but on that note though, how do the clothes fit? Because they look nice..." I asked curiously, examining his outfit.

He was wearing the white button down I bought him, which he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, and a pair of khaki slacks. "Surprisingly well. You have an eye for sizing, because they fit perfectly."

"Just a little talent I have~" I chuckled as I got up from the table, "I'm going to go get ready if you need anything else, just nock." I said to him before heading back to my room.

Opening the door, the still dark and silent room, I shut the door with a light sigh. I was still trying to soak in everything that has happened in the past 48 hours. 

Trying to ignore the what felt like looming stress over my head and shoulders, I opened my closet to pick out my day's outfit.

I grabbed a black sweater that outlined my body nicely, and threw on a red leather blazer. Selecting one of my nice black skirts to pair, I also grabbed my pair of brown boots that came up to my knees.

Looking in the mirror, I felt elegant. I wanted to match the effort William put in to his outfit who already looked ten times more dressed up than me.

Starting on my makeup and hair, which took no longer than two minutes combined to do, I slipped on some of my jewelry and perfume before exiting my room.

Grabbing the handle of my door, a wave of nausea washed over me making my head spin to the point where I fell to my knees.

"Shit. No...Not now... no, no, no, no..."

I slouched against the chair as I waited for Y/N to finish getting ready. Rubbing my face I realized I would need to pick up a razor while we're out. As I thought over my prickly face, I heard Y/N's door creek open and out came a done up Y/N.

Her radiantly glowing hair lay kindly against her shoulders. The jacket, the sweater, the skirt... it all complimented her so well.

"Now look who's all dolled up!" I smiled widely as Y/N turned to me.

For as put together as she looked, something about her was strange.

Her eyes were distant and dark. They seemed even more deep set.

Her jaw clenched and her expression was glazed over. But even with all of that she still returned my smile and lightly chucked at my comment.

"Yep... and ready to go."

We left the apartment rather hastily, William tagging behind my rushed being in bewilderment.

Anxiety is a crippling thing.... But when you see the ghost of dead children on top of that is even more terrifying.

Jumping in the car, I quickly turned it on as William examined me curiously as he more leisurely got in.

My hands shook and I turned the key and reached for the gearshift. But as did, my arm was slammed down into William's grasp.

Looking at him with surprise and worry, William on the other hand, had his brows knitted in frustration and just the slightest hint of worry. His eyes were dark and calculated. Paying attention to every detail painted on my face.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I raised my voice out of agitation and pain.

"Now you are going to tell me what is wrong, right now. Because if you think you are going to trick me, or turn me in once we leave here and-"

“Are you kidding me?! No William! This isn't about THAT!" I shrilled as the anxiety finally came through onto my face as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

Pulling my arm out of his grasp, William looked at me still surprised at my outburst. I gripped my wrist in slight pain as I looked up into his deep eyes.

"....there’s a glitch.... a glitched rabbit... the other part of you! He's is coming... and he is coming to kill us... and there is nothing we can do to stop it."

[sapphic-scylla]

Intro to Cinder. Reworked her backstory to (once again) make her how I wanted her to be over how I had to make her. @ebevkisk

Drawn From Death

Lights. Colors. Flashes. Sounds drifted in and out of coherence. People wandering the street. Nothing she could make out. Her head pounded with blistering pain.

She pressed her hand against the door and shoved it open. Her vision, still very clouded, told her she was in a bar. In a drunken stupor, she slowly stumbled towards what she assumed was an empty corner table. The room slowly fell silent as she sat down, head thudding with a deep set pain that she felt in her soul.

Her vision slowly started to clear as she looked up to see the entire bar staring at her in utter confusion and terror. She looked down to see her clothes covered in layers of dirt and mud. She had felt the rain, but just now began to process the water that had soaked into her (very nice) clothes and that had rested on her rose pink skin. On her head, she felt her blood red hair and two horns sprouting from her head like a bull.

She tried to remember something, anything. A name, a friend, just a detail that she could latch on to so she could piece together who she was, but nothing came. As her body continued to return to normalcy, she doubled over in pain as she touched her stomach. In her belly was a wound, probably from a sword. By the width, it seemed like it came from a katana. Why did she know that and not her name? Or what happened yesterday? Or last week?

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. Can I get you anything?” A half-elven waitress said, jogging her out of her head.

“Oh yeah, uh…” Checking her pockets, she was disappointed, but not surprised, to find she was flat broke. “Sorry, I don’t have any money on me.”

The waitress nodded. “It’s on the house, hun.”

With a nod, she answered. “Just the special and one of whatever you have on tap then.”

The waitress bowed and disappeared.

“Ok,” she thought, “So, gathering what I know about myself, I’m a tiefling who got stabbed with a katana. Don’t know where I am or how I got here. Oh yeah, and I look like I crawled out of a grave.”

Her memory flashed. Dirt, no air, a deep feeling of magic flowing through the cuts in her skin, rain, oxygen entering her lungs. Pulling herself out of the ground. She glanced over at her hand and there it was. The same glowing symbols of the infernal runes for “aberration”.

“I did crawl out of a grave. I’m not dead or a ghost though. Maybe I was at one point though.” The tiefling said quietly to herself.

The waitress dropped off the meal without a word. The tiefling continued to try to jog her memory while she ate, but nothing came to mind. She rifled through her pockets, but nothing came of it. Only dirt and lint, though, apparently, she had transitioned from being a boy.

She chugged the rest of her ale, stood up, and shuffled back out into the rain, this time, with a purpose. As she stood there, she felt a deep rooted instinct rise within her as she ducked, spun, and disarmed the man who had just tried to shoot her. Pulling the pistol from the ground, taking his ammo pouch and kicking him back into the pub, she inspected it to find a fully automatic lever action pistol.

The man looked horrified. “How the FUCK did you do that?”

The tiefling turned, a devilish rage welling up inside her. “Do you just kill strangers around here? I wasn’t a threat to you and, yet, you think you can just kill me and walk away.”

The man backed up. “You…y-you we’re supposed to be dead. You WERE dead. We all saw your corpse. They carried you into town and buried you in an unmarked grave.”

The tiefling walked back to the man, pulled the sniper that was still hanging from his back. Truly a gun that he did not take care of but it was salvageable. She would give it more love than he did.

Her eyes glowed with arcane rage, she could feel it. “Any other weapons you got?” She said, anger searing its way deeper into his psyche. He sat, petrified as she dug through to find several knives and a katana. The blade was just a little too small to be the one that killed her.

The tiefling fixed all of the weapons onto her belt and swung the sniper onto her back. “Now that that’s out of the way…” She didn’t have a name, but that’s ok. What was a name, but a label. She would make one up. “My name is Cinder and if you know what’s good for you, you will tell me who brought me into town and where they went.”

[braxbrowastaken]

A few days before the blood rains started, a total eclipse carved across the world. On the day after a full moon.

It was an impossibility. One that had space agencies panicking as they tried to find what kind of *thing* had passed close enough for long enough to blot out the sun. The only thing we found?

It was some kind of giant stealth thing. There wasn’t anything big enough to block the sun that they could see.

Then, before we knew it, the skies rained blood. The corpse we later identified as the Greek god of lightning fell from the sky, impaling itself on the top of the Empire State Building.

That was only the beginning. Odin and Osiris fell less than twenty-four hours later, with Odin crashing down somewhere not too far from Tokyo and Osiris crushing the British Museum. (Serves them right, honestly.)

And then Jesus descended upon Florida, splattering on the ground in front of the capitol building. (Again, honestly kind of fitting.)

The fifth thing to fall, though, wasn’t a corpse.

It was some kind of… giant mech. Or robot. Or something. It… landed in Ohio. It leveled my hometown, and I was trapped underneath rubble, unable to do anything but watch the goliath machine rise, point a massive gun at the sky, and fire a shot.

A sixth corpse fell. Hermes. At least… I think it was Hermes, given how fucking fast the thing that got shot tumbled over the horizon and crashed to the ground. Not like it does me any good to track which gods are dead anymore. It’s pretty obvious they’re all occupied, and I can’t even sit up to pray to any. Hell, who would I even pray to?

It’s been… three hours, according to my watch, since I got pinned like this. Two and a half or so since Hermes went down. The machine turned in my direction, and has shot two more gods. I can’t turn to guess at which ones they were.

The… machine has started walking towards me. This is the end, I think. Even if it doesn’t see me as something to kill, I’m pretty sure it’ll dislodge something and I’ll finally be crushed to death.

Oh look. It’s lowering its gun towards me. Well, that answers that question.

I close my eyes tight. I don’t want to see myself get splattered.

A great groan of metal bending is all I hear, as I open my eyes and see… Hermes? pushing aside the great weapon with one hand, his other arm completely missing from the elbow down and dripping blood.

I hear the sounds of something on wheels crackle over the rubble, as the machine slowly draws its other weapon from its opposite hip. It moves like molasses, really. Which would be relieving if the length of its limbs weren’t the height of skyscrapers.

The wheels stop. “Is there anyone there?” I hear, in a… unidentifiable accent. I try to cry out for help, but the only sound I make is a groan. But it was enough for the weight on my hips to be lifted away by someone. I feebly raise my arm toward the machine, my voice weak.

“Run…”

It was leveling another gun at me. Until a direct lightning strike hit the side of its hand, making it drop the weapon.

Thor. And Zeus too, it looked like. Somehow.

“Can you move, lucky one?” I shake my head, and I am dragged up onto a giant wheelchair. Hephaestus’ wheelchair. The crunching of rubble is deafening as we start rolling away from the scene of the battle. Hermes meets up with us after a few minutes, thanks to Thor and Zeus holding the thing’s attention, and then our pace quickens to a breakneck speed.

Hermes spoke up as soon as we got out of view of the fighting. “So, do we have a plan?”

Hephaestus nodded, looking at me. “If this one wants to help. Godly power can’t hurt that machine. It’s like a lightning rod that can self repair, for insult to injury. But if I built a construct around them, then maybe they could fight it on an even playing field.”

I blink.

“I’m sorry, what? Are you serious?” I shout.

Hephaestus simply nodded.

Hephaestus nodded.

A god had just suggested that he make me into a giant fucking mech. To fight a god-killing machine hellbent on wiping out everything, I think.

Who the hell was I to say no to that?

I pause, before nodding to Hephaestus.

When bloody rain began to fall over most of the earth, many religious leaders began to proclaim the end times were upon us. Then corpses came crashing down, identified as Zeus, Odin, Osiris, and Jesus of Nazareth, and we realized it was so much worse.

[kalijah100]

The Sun Also Rises (1st revised version; kalijah)

        Elena stood upstairs.

        "You invited him in?" Damon questioned, figuring Elena wasn't thinking correctly.

        "Yes. He promised to forget the past and help us, as long as we apologize to him," Elena replied.

        "I'm sorry we killed you," Stefan said, knowing that they needed all the help they could get.

        Everyone looked at Damon.

        "What? I'm not apologizing to him."

        Elena looked at Elijah.

        "He'll come around."

        "I doubt it," Elijah responded.

        Elijah followed Elena downstairs to stand beside her not far from the eldest Salvatore brother. Then he went to stand at the entrance to the living room.

        "Elijah has something that will help. An elixir," Elena explained.

        "We need something better," Damon replied.

        Stefan was silent from where he stood by the couch.

        Just then, everyone looked at Katherine Pierce as she walked in. She stopped by Elijah and said, "Nice to see you again. I'm sorry for what I did. I was just trying to survive."

        "I understand, Katerina."

        Katherine walked up to stand by Damon and Elena.

        "Katerina?" Damon questioned.

        "It was my human name. Elijah fell in love with me when he met me. I was Klaus' doppelganger and so I ran. Rose wanted to take me to Klaus, so he and Rose argued after Rose stopped me from killing myself. I hung myself but woke up in transition. When Rose tried to stake me, I shielded myself by using the owner of the cabin. Rose staked the owner and I fed. I apologized before I left, though. When I returned home, my villagers were all dead. Klaus slaughtered my people, including my family. I changed my name when I came to America from Bulgaria. But I didn't come here to tell you my tragic life of heartbreak and loneliness."

        "Why are you here?" Stefan asked calmly.

        "Yes. Why did you come?" Damon said in his usual voice he reserved only for Katherine.

        "I came to help in any way I can. I won't let another family member die from Klaus."

        "She won't stay dead for long. I have an elixir," Elijah informed her.

        "Will it work?"

        "Yes."

        "You don't know that," Damon said. "There's only one way to know that she'll come back."

        "Don't even think about it," Kat said, glaring at him.

        "What do you propose we do then?" Damon asked.

        "I'm thinking," she answered, no longer glaring.

        Suddenly, arrows started flying. One got Damon in the back. Stefan and Elijah left to find the shooter. At the same time, Kat got in the way of an arrow that would've gotten Elena and got her down, before Kat rolled onto her right side in pain and agony.

        "Elena, pull it out," Damon instructed.

        Elena went over and pulled the arrow out of his back, as the arrows stopped.

        Once it was out, Damon went over and quickly pulled Kat's out of her back.

        "Elena, get some blood from the basement and a shot glass from the table," he instructed, as he gently rolled Kat onto her back and pulled her into his arms.

        Elena obeyed.

        "Hang in there, Kat," he said calmly.

        Elena came back with a shot glass of blood.

        Damon gently lifted Kat's head and put the glass to her lips.

        "Drink."

        Though she was in pain and weak, she obeyed him and slowly began to drink.

        "What's wrong?" Elena asked.

        "There was vervain on the arrows. She doesn't sip vervain everyday like I do, so it affects her in the wrong way. Blood helps."

        Elena understood now.

        Kat felt better after finishing the glass, so he helped her up and led her over to the couch. He then helped her sit down on the couch.

        Stefan and Elijah came back.

        "We got rid of them," Elijah announced.

        "Good," Damon replied.

        "Thanks, Damon," Kat said.

        "You're welcome."

        "Is she okay?" Elijah asked.

        "She'll be fine. I gave her some blood. No big deal," Damon answered.