#i've been meaning to watch the terror. this reminded me of it

[destielmemenews]

James Fitzjames was First Officer of the HMS Erebus, one of two ships from Sir John Franklin's failed 1845 expedition of the Norwest Passage. According to markings on some of Fitzjames' remains, he was cannibalized. This has long been the suspected fate of the crew.

The first season of the AMC series The Terror depicts a fictionalized account the expedition.

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[thehusbandoden]

You Flinch During an Argument -Bakugo Katsuki

I finished this yesterday but forced myself to wait to post it due to my one part a day pattern I've had going on.

Anyways~ as I said in Shoto's part, I did make this one a bit angstier, but I hope I didn't stray too far away from the original prompt :'). It's kinda bittersweet lol but I kinda like it.

Angst to fluff/Comfort | Kinda bittersweet~ | 993 words | female reader

Warnings!: arguing, yelling, being scared of your partner, parents arguing (the kids were not present), kids being left at school (not for very long), caps, excuses, self hatred, and insulting themselves (Bakugo). Please let me know if I miss any <33

Dabi | Hawks | Todoroki Shoto | Bakugo Katsuki | Midoriya Izuku | Shigaraki Tomura | Aizawa Shota | Amajiki Tamaki | Kirishima Eijiro | Shinso Hitoshi

You both had been fighting for at least half an hour, screaming at one another for this and that. It started with Bakugo 'forgetting' to pick up your sons from school, and has now escalated into you screaming at him for not 'caring about this family' and his yelling about how hard he works for your family.

No one was totally to blame, both parties had some points that were right, and some that were wrong. But it should have never reached that point.

~~~

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD I WORK TO PROVIDE FOR THIS FAMILY! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU BEGGED FOR KIDS THAT I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP OUT MUCH! WHAT ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME!"

"I UNDERSTAND THAT- BUT YOU'VE HAD THREE DAYS OFF! YOU'RE FULLY RESTED- AND SHOULD'VE PICKED UP THE KIDS NO PROBLEM WHILE I WAS HELPING OUT YOUR MOM!"

"WELL WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO! I FORGOT ABOUT IT, OKAY! AND YOU DIDN'T CALL TO REMIND ME EITHER!"

"I EXPECTED YOU TO HAVE ENOUGH BRAINS TO REMEMBER, BUT I GUESS THAT WAS IDIOTIC OF ME!"

"I HAVE SO MUCH TO DEAL WITH BESIDES THIS BULL CRAP THAT'S YOUR RESPONSIBILITY! I WORK, YOU TAKE CARE OF THE KIDS!"

"KATSUKI I CANNOT WATCH THE KIDS 24-7 WITHOUT YOUR HELP! I NEED BREAKS TOO! YOU HAVE TWO DAYS OFF A WEEK TO RELAX, AND CATCH UP ON SLEEP! WHILE I HAVE NIGHT TIME, BATHROOM BREAKS, RUNNING ERANDS, AND NAP TIMES TO CATCH A BREAK! I SHOULD BE ABLE TO RELY ON MY HUSBAND TO HELP OUT WHEN HE HAS TIME OFF!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO WANTED THE KIDS IN THE FIRST PLACE- WHY ARE YOU WHINING TO ME ABOUT HAVING TO TAKE CARE OF 'EM!"

"WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THEY AREN'T YOURS!? WE BOTH AGREED ON DOING THE BEST WE COULD FOR OUR KIDS, AND YOU SAID THAT YOU'D HELP OUT WHENEVER YOU COULD!"

"Y/N IT WAS THIS ONE TIME- I WAS BUSY, I FORGOT!"

"YOU WERE PLAYING GAMES ALL DAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS! THAT IS NOT BUSY!"

Blazing anger filled Bakugo as he stepped towards you, planning on simply getting closer to you to somehow try and make you see his side of things. He didn't mean to forget about picking up his kids, he loves his kids, he was simply engrossed in talking about them to his friends as he gamed, totally forgetting about the time and the fact that they were at school, waiting for someone to pick them up.

In truth, Bakugo felt bad. Really bad. But you wouldn't stop, so he continued, his unwavering pride making it near impossible to simply apologize and leave the argument behind.

Storming towards you, Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks as you flinched from him, eyes holding a certain terror. Wait- did you- did you think he was going to hurt you?!

Apologies and 'are you okay's were caught in Bakugo's throat as he opened his mouth, too terrified to speak.

Y/n.. his y/n was scared..of him. HIs y/n- the person that tore him out of his 'I don't care about anything or anyone' stage. She brought him out of his dark pit of self loathing, hating himself for how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything compared to that idiot Deku. She brought light into his world, she is his light. His first and last love, his wife, his center, his other half, his partner, his reason for life, the mother of his children, his one and only lover, his queen, his everything.

And he scared her.

Screamed at her for something that was his fault.

Treated her so badly that she flinched away from him- terror filling her eyes.

Her gorgeous e/c eyes. The same eyes that his sons had inherited. Now he's brought tears to three sets of those goregous eyes. What a scum bag.

Pain seared through Bakguo as he embraced his y/n, knowing if he left now she would entirely break, thinking that he was giving up on her. On their love. When in reality, he would't be. He would never dream of leaving her, or their beautiful children.

Because no matter how much of an a-hole Bakugo may be, he would never stoop that low. Never. And so he held her, and continued to hold her as she tearfully cussed him out, telling him how much she loved him and how much of an a-hole he was for treating her like that, their kids like that.

He just held her, telling her that he was sorry, that he knew, that he would make it up to her -and their seven year old twins- somehow.

And for now, that was enough. His love, and comfort was enough as you clung to him, insulting him while telling him that you loved his idiotic self in the same sentence, telling him that you loved him too much to not be able to forgive him.

And that if he was serious about making things right, that you would help him.

Because you were Bakugo y/n*. You chose to take his name and become his wife. Bakugo has helped you through so many up and downs, so you would do the same for him. Because he truly loved you, and you truly loved him.

*Japanese last names go in front of the first name to pay respect to the family name, and that's why Kirishima and Bakugo's other classmates call him Bakugo instead of Katsuki -to pay respect to his family name-. So you would be (in Japan anyway) Bakugo y/n (if you choose to take his last name) and strangers/aquaintnesses/not so close friends and co-workers would call you Bakugo instead of y/n. Annd due to me not liking Bakugo a whole lot I call him Bakugo or Baka/Bakuhoe instead of Katuski and call Todoroki and Midoriya, Shoto and Izuku- do you get what I'm saying?? I hope you do <33

Series' masterlist | Bakahoe's Bakugou's masterlist | Main masterlist | Navigation

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated<33

Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.

[diejager]

Hi! I've been binging your works and I absolutely LOVE how you write Ghost's character.

I was wondering if I can request mentor! Ghost with an Fem! recruit who's like his mini-me (mask and everything) and some others decide to play a prank and pull off her mask in front of the team, cue angry, protective Ghost. Thank you!

Mask prank

He was reluctant at first, his heart frozen over to a cold, dead and unfeeling thing. Ghost liked to keep himself closed and at an arm’s length of people he didn’t know, you fit in that category. An unknown aspect of his entourage that he hated, he abhorred the new and strange.

An yet, you squirrelled your way into his mind, your jumpiness at loud sounds, your tense figure and flinches when people got near to you, wandering hands of ignorant fools that couldn’t understand your jarring behaviour towards physical touch and that exhausted gleam in your eyes, ones that have seen too much for your age. You reminded him of himself, a younger and pained self with a twitchiness towards touch and an awkward personality.

Perhaps that’s why you got to him so quickly, he tested your limits, standing closer and closer to you every time to see where he had to stop before you crashed. With encouragement from the others, he got to the point where he could touch you, placing a hand on your shoulder or forearm, guiding you this way or that way. You reminded him so much of the person he tried burying, to kill off. You reminded him of Simon Riley.

And yet, he gifted you a mask after your first mission with them, one of his balaclava with a painted skull. He remembered the happiness in your eyes and the joy of his team, letting them embrace you tightly and patting you proudly. He’d never seen anything so precious and worth protecting.

That’s why - he thought - he got so mad at a group of privates that pulled a prank, a mean one, on you. He was there when it happened - he was always near you, whether it’s beside you or in the same room, he was always with you as your support buddy - when the men and women approached you, watching your body grow rigid and tense, a frown hidden under the same mask he wore. It started with harmless banter, them surrounding you without much intent until someone reached for you mask.

You panicked, arms jerking outwards to stop her, but another one pulled the mask off you from behind. You weren’t fast enough and outnumbered, and you were paying the price for it. You froze, hands hastily covering your face in a frenzy of harsh breaths and panicked thoughts.

Ghost saw red, he stomped over to you slumped figure, looming over you and glaring at the calling and jeering group that saw no issue in taking your mask away, your shield.

“The fuck you think you’re doing,” he barked, eyes narrowed so much that his eyes seemed to turn black.

He watched them stutter, lining up before him while he stood before you, blocking their view on your agitated and fearful figure. His eyes stared down at the person who tried to take your - his - mask off and the one who did, burying them down with his gaze alone. If his gaze could kill, they would’ve been burned and buried six feet under a hundred times, that red-rimmed glare with abysmal eyes made his name a joke.

“It- it was a prank, sir!” The person holding your shield in his hand spoke up, trying to defend himself with he word prank.

“A prank? Are you bloody children?!”

What a fucking excuse, they were adults, privates on duty for any deployment and they decided to play a prank on another? He couldn’t believe his ears when they blurred out those words, he couldn’t put his anger in words. He was never good with his emotions, never articulate enough to show or tell people how he felt, it felt jarring.

Without a word, he snatched the mask out of their hands, turning to face you with comforting gestures. He hated how small you made yourself, crumpled into yourself with so much terror, hate and trauma. He pushed the mask over your head, hushed words to your ears alone as e held you by your biceps.

“Scram,” he glared over his shoulders, watching the privates squeak and flee, steps quick and clumsy as they ran from the room.

Turning back to you, he led you away from the room, catching on your shallow breaths and your erratic heart. He walked you to your room with a hand on your upper back, a firm and grounding hand that reminded you that he was here, that you were with him in a disclosed base in the British isles. He stayed the night, taking your desk chair while you dozed off to a night plagued by your demons.

He’d have to leave you under Gaz and Soap’s watchful eyes and talk to Price about this tomorrow. If Price doesn’t do anything about them - although he doubted Price won’t, he was fiercely protective of his group of troubled children - Ghost will have to think of something by himself, a lesson for everyone to remember.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, guys! We reached the end, I must say I loved it. Happy ending for everyone!!!

Enjoy it! <3

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader x AgathaRio

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: angs, smut and happy end

Summary: The guardian changes everything

Hey. Now I've a masterlist

INFINITY

The room was an echo of despair, a space where time seemed to halt in the face of Wanda's emotional devastation. The dimness was pierced only by the unstable flickers of spells, trembling like flames in agony, reflecting the chaos within her. Her fingers shook as she frantically leafed through grimoires, her eyes scanning lines of text that blurred before the teary haze clouding her vision.

Her heart pounded like a discordant drum, each beat a cruel reminder of the void consuming her. With every spell, every failed attempt to locate Agatha and the people she loved, her frustration grew. It wasn’t just anger; it was something far deeper, an existential fury threatening to devour everything around her.

When the door to the room burst open, interrupting her frenzy, Wanda didn’t even turn. “What are you doing here?” she growled, her voice dripping with venom.

Stephen Strange entered hesitantly but resolutely, his expression grave. “What am I doing here?” he echoed in response to Wanda’s cutting glare. “A Guardian and her daughter, two Solis, have been taken. Do you think that doesn’t affect me? That I don’t understand what this means for the universe?”

Wanda laughed without humor, a hollow sound that reverberated through the room like muffled thunder. She rose slowly, the energy around her rippling menacingly. “They’re not just Solis,” she replied, her voice sharp as glass. “They are my life. My reason. And no universe is worth more than them.”

Strange took a step forward, trying to strike a balance between authority and empathy. “Wanda, what you’re doing—what you’re considering—could tear the fabric of reality. You know this.” His eyes locked onto hers, seeking to understand the depth of her pain. “Whatever you do, Wanda, it has to be done with caution. The universe is at stake.”

She stared at him with a chill that could freeze hell itself. “Caution?” Her laugh was dark now, almost deranged. “Caution is what made me vulnerable. Caution is what made me lose everything before. And if I have to destroy the multiverse to bring them back, so be it.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Strange, for a moment, couldn’t find words. He knew she was beyond reason, but he couldn’t ignore the raw humanity in her eyes, the terror masked by determination.

“You’re a monster,” he finally murmured, not with hatred but with sorrow. “Look at what you’re becoming, Wanda.”

She blinked, her face twisting with something that looked like pain but was quickly replaced by icy anger. “I am not a monster, Strange.” she said, each word laced with conviction and bitterness. “I am a broken woman. A mother who failed. A wife who couldn’t protect her family. And now, I will do whatever it takes. Whatever it takes…”

Strange tried once more. “Do you think bringing your family back this way will heal you? Will it erase what you’ve lost? Or will it only create more pain?”

She smiled, but the smile was empty, devoid of any warmth. “I’m not looking for healing, Stephen. I just want them back.”

The air around her began to vibrate, the walls seeming to close in, suffused by the energy emanating from Wanda. Strange watched the growing purple magic, a harbinger of apocalypse, and knew he was losing the battle.

“If you go down this path, Wanda, there’s no turning back,” he said, his voice desperate. “You’ll destroy everything.”

She didn’t hesitate, not for a second. “I’ve already lost everything, Strange. Do you think I care about losing the rest?”

With a gesture, she pushed him away, an invisible barrier preventing him from coming closer. Strange stood helplessly as Wanda closed her eyes and surrendered completely to the power consuming her.

In that moment, she was no longer just the Scarlet Witch. She was a woman willing to burn the universe just to feel the warmth of her family once more.

[...]

In the heart of the grove, where sunlight filtered through the trees like golden tears, a faceless woman walked, her steps gentle on the leaf-strewn earth. Her garments were ancient, imposing in their simplicity, and her brown hair danced with the wind. She cradled a baby, small and fragile, in her arms. The baby nestled against her, seeking solace in her presence, its lips curving softly as it fed on the life she offered.

The love between them was palpable, almost visible, like a warm, comforting aura spreading through the surroundings. Every gesture, every sigh of the woman seemed imbued with infinite tenderness, a devotion that transcended time. Yet, there was sadness in her eyes, something that couldn’t be erased by the sweetness of the moment. She seemed burdened by guilt, as if something had been lost or broken, something that could not be mended, even in the warmth of maternal love.

And then, in the shadow of the trees, another woman appeared, her eyes silently observing. She stood at a distance, but her presence was unmistakable, as if she knew that scene, those moments, from an immemorial time. Her gaze was full of love but also profound sorrow, a sadness that seemed to span across all past lives. She watched the woman with the baby as though she somehow knew what the future held for them. There was no fear, only a serene, painful acceptance of something that could not be changed.

In that moment, you feared for their lives, feared for the fate looming over the faceless woman and her child. But then, as you looked closer, the fear dissipated. The observing woman’s gaze was one of pure, almost unconditional love, as if that baby were a promise, a continuity of something greater, something that transcended the lines of time and life.

Their love, the silent and eternal bond, echoed in your soul like a distant melody, and you felt that perhaps this was the true essence of what you had always sought: a family, a deep connection, something that defies time and space.

But the dream dissolved quickly, like a soft breeze at dawn, and you woke, lost and confused, to the sound of Seline’s cries, still so small, still so vulnerable.

The dream was still vivid in your mind as you woke, breathless and disoriented, your eyes adjusting to the dimness of the unfamiliar room. Seline’s cries, weak and hungry, pierced the quiet, reminding you of reality. She was with you, she was your daughter, but something felt wrong. The disorientation lingered, and the world around you felt distant, as if you were trapped between two worlds.

The room was gloomy, the dim light barely illuminating the outlines of the walls, and the sound of Seline's crying seemed to echo in the back of your mind. You felt a crushing pressure on your chest—a mix of disorientation and anger, the heat of growing fear spreading through every part of your being. When Agatha and Rio entered, something in the atmosphere shifted—a heavy, tense silence.

"But look who’s awake—the Guardian herself," Agatha murmured sharply, her piercing eyes fixed on you. Her tone carried an air of superiority, as if she were studying a chess piece she already knew how to maneuver.

Instinct took over. The desperation and need to protect your daughter made you rise quickly from the bed, your body heavy and almost uncontrollable. Your eyes locked on Seline, lying there so vulnerable. Your arms stretched toward her, frantic, as though it was the last thing you could do to save her.

"How do you know about this?" you demanded, your voice tearing through the air with a raw, defiant edge. There was no room for doubt or weakness now—not with Seline so close.

Agatha smirked slightly, her dark eyes gleaming with a mixture of sarcasm and knowing. "Oh, dear… I know so many things," she replied smoothly, as though discussing something trivial. Her confidence was infuriating.

You took a step toward them, your gaze locked on Agatha, a flicker of magic starting to tingle in your hands, ready to be unleashed. But as you extended your fingers, expecting the energy to flow as it always did, something was wrong. The power didn’t manifest. The emptiness inside you was worse than any physical pain. Where was the necklace? Where was the artifact that gave your magic the strength to fight? Frustration turned to dread.

"I can’t..." your voice faltered for a moment, your eyes darting to the emptiness. You felt powerless, as if all the forces around you had been stripped away. The vulnerability was unbearable.

Agatha observed your discomfort with amused eyes, as though she had anticipated your every move. "You do know, don’t you, that without that necklace, you're nothing more than an ordinary woman?" she said softly, her malice veiled, but you wouldn’t be fooled by her calm demeanor.

Before you could respond, Rio Vidal stepped forward, her eyes as silent as her presence. She seemed like the calm to Agatha’s storm. "You and your daughter are not mere Guardians, my dear," she said with an unsettling softness, her words hanging heavily in the air. "You have a destiny far greater, something that transcends the role you think you play."

Confusion swelled in your chest, and you felt as though the ground was crumbling beneath you. Something greater? What did they mean by that?

Before you could question further, Agatha stepped forward, her lips curling into a triumphant smile. "You and Seline are part of something much larger, much grander than the simple protection of the Infinite," she said, pausing to let her revelation linger before continuing, "You are key pieces in a greater plan—one you don’t even comprehend yet. The fate of the entire universe is intertwined with yours."

The shock was immediate, like a cold blade piercing your heart. You felt the weight of Agatha’s words as an overwhelming burden. The idea that your daughter—that you—were mere pawns in a far vaster game… It seemed impossible, implausible. Yet, somehow, you felt a strange truth in it all.

Your mind began to spin, the pieces slowly falling into place, but doubt, fear, and anger filled your heart. How could this be true? How could anyone use your daughter and you this way? But, deep down, you knew there was more behind all of it, something far beyond what you could imagine.

The air in the room grew even denser as your words came out, weak and trembling but laced with venomous concern. "Where is Wanda? The boys?" you asked, your voice low, almost breaking, as if every word was a painful effort. The emptiness in your chest only grew.

Agatha observed you, her eyes annoyingly calm, as if your pain were merely a temporary distraction. "Wanda?" she repeated, chuckling lightly. "Poor Wanda… Do you really think she can do anything against me?" Agatha’s arrogance was palpable, as though she were speaking of a child who hadn’t yet realized how insignificant they were.

You tried to focus, but your mind was still hazy, the physical and mental pain making it harder to think clearly. The worry for Wanda and the children, the fear of not knowing what had happened to them—it was all suffocating.

"Wanda... She will kill you..." The threat slipped out without a filter, a whisper laced with anger and apprehension. But to your surprise, Agatha seemed utterly unbothered. On the contrary, she let out a quiet, almost mocking laugh.

Agatha crossed her arms, slowly approaching. "Oh, dear," she began, her voice soft but dripping with venom. "I know exactly what Wanda is capable of. And I know what she cannot do. I am more than prepared for anything she might try," she said with overwhelming confidence, as if the future were already written and she knew exactly where you and Wanda fit into the story.

The fear you felt for Wanda, for your children, for everything that was happening, quickly turned into a wave of fury. She wasn’t just playing with you; she was toying with everyone’s lives. But what scared you most was how completely she seemed to have control over everything. And so far, you didn’t even know where to start fighting back.

Agatha was smiling, a look of malicious satisfaction on her face, as if she knew exactly what was about to happen. "I know her so well that I can tell she will arrive in 3… 2… 1…" Agatha said, her voice calm and brimming with confidence. She barely had time to finish her sentence before a deafening noise shook the cabin's roof, making the walls vibrate.

The sound came from outside, powerful, a crash so loud it felt as if the sky itself were collapsing. Agatha laughed, a low, satisfied sound. "Maximoffs… Always so punctual, aren’t they?" She turned toward the door as if she had been expecting the impact of Wanda’s arrival.

But before you could react, dark energy rose in the air—a magic ancient and powerful—wrapping around your wrists and ankles. You struggled, but the magical chains tightened around you, immobilizing your body with inhuman strength. Your hands were bound, unable to cast any spells. You screamed, trying to break free, but the chains only tightened, as though they were draining your energy.

"No!" You screamed, your voice desperate as you felt panic take hold of you. The magical chains bound you in place, and the feeling of helplessness was overwhelming. The scream echoed through the room, piercing the walls, and your eyes frantically searched for Seline, only to see her being taken by Rio. Every movement Rio made was smooth but deadly precise, as if she had calculated every second, every gesture. She was moving away, Seline in her arms, far from your protection.

"Seline!" you cried out, the desperation in your voice more evident than ever.

At that moment, the energy in the room shifted. The air grew dense, heavier, and a wave of power filled the space. Wanda's eyes glowed a deep red, and a burst of scarlet energy swept through the cabin's entrance, throwing Agatha and Rio backward with force. The Scarlet Witch was there.

"Wanda!" you called out, your heart pounding harder at the sight of her entering, her hair floating around her like flames, anger burning in her eyes. She looked at you with a single glance that carried the fury of a storm.

Agatha, however, didn't seem surprised by Wanda's arrival. She straightened, smiling at her with the confidence only she could exude. "I see you've arrived... and with company, I see... Afraid, darling?" Agatha said, her arrogance boundless.

"Get out of my way, Agatha," Wanda replied, her voice as cold as ice. She raised her hand, and an explosion of red magic lit up the room, but Agatha dodged effortlessly, her smile never wavering.

"You don't understand, Wanda," Agatha hissed. "The girl and your daughter are just tools for a much greater purpose. A purpose far beyond anything you can control."

"Don't you dare touch them," Wanda growled, the magic around her growing even more intense.

At that moment, Rio prepared to cast another spell but was interrupted when Natasha, Captain Marvel, and the other Avengers stormed in with overwhelming force. Thor roared, his hammer carrying the weight of all thunder as he charged at Agatha's forces, breaking the magical barriers.

But Agatha wasn't willing to back down. She raised a hand, conjuring a storm of purple energy that swept across the battlefield, potent magic filled with intent.

Wanda focused, her magic becoming an unstoppable force, rivaling Agatha's. The two powers collided, creating a wave of energy that shook the ground, and the battle between the two witches was breathtaking. But deep down, you knew this fight was much more than just a battle of magic. It was a fight for your family, for Seline, for everyone she loved.

The unfolding battle was indescribable, a clash of powers that seemed to defy the laws of reality. Wanda, her scarlet energy radiating from her body like an uncontrollable wildfire, stood against Agatha Harkness, whose smile was as sharp as a blade. Yet something even more threatening was about to reveal itself.

Rio Vidal, with her quiet and haunting presence, seemed merely an observer, but there was something in her eyes—something that made the air around her feel colder, denser. She was still, but her aura of death was unmistakable. It was as if life itself was being drained away from her, and her power extended far beyond mere witchcraft, something much older, more primordial.

Rio spoke in a low voice, dripping with silent malice: "You are dealing with something far beyond your comprehension."

The red light around Wanda intensified, but before she could react, Rio moved with supernatural agility. She raised a hand, and instantly the air seemed to freeze. An absolute silence fell over the room, as if the world had stopped breathing.

The spell Rio cast was instant and ruthless. The shadows around her stretched out like tendrils, engulfing the space and beginning to consume everything around.

The energy seemed to erode the very essence of life, and the shadows swallowed the Avengers one by one, as if they were being torn apart by an invisible force. Thor's hammer was flung away, the light of its energy disappearing before the shadows. The sight of the chains of death that Rio created was terrifying, as though the fabric of reality itself was being torn apart.

But the worst was yet to come. With a simple wave of her hand, Rio Vidal summoned a torrent of energy that erupted from the ground like a hurricane, a black, pulsating wave that consumed everything in its path. It was Death itself personified, a primordial force that even Wanda seemed unable to contain.

"That's what's truly terrifying, Wanda," Rio said, her voice as cold as the winds of death. "I am the true mistress of the end."

When Rio looked directly at Wanda, the aura of Death around her intensified, and the room was filled with a crushing pressure, as if the entire weight of the universe was being compressed into a single point. The sensation of death spread through the atsmosphere like a fog, and Wanda's strength, as powerful as it was, began to waver under Rio's absolute dominance.

But Wanda was not one to give in so easily. She raised her hands, and a burst of scarlet power swept through the room. The clash between Death and the Scarlet Witch was like the collision of two opposing elemental forces. The energy exploded in the air, creating a wave that made the walls tremble and the lights flicker.

"You can't stop me, Rio!" Wanda shouted, her voice full of fury and pain. "You don't stop a woman like me."

The streaks of red energy collided with Rio's shadows, and the impact generated a shockwave that shook the foundations of the room. It was as if the very air was being torn apart, the two powers clashing with a violence that almost destroyed the space around them.

Yet despite Wanda's overwhelming power, Rio continued to resist, her shadow of Death enveloping everything around her. Her presence made everything seem dark, hopeless, and for a moment, it seemed as if the balance between life and death might be disrupted.

"You'll need more than anger to defeat me, Wanda," Rio said, an enigmatic smile on her lips. "I am the natural order of all things, baby."

Wanda, however, was not willing to back down. The sight of Seline, still far from her, was all she needed to fuel her determination. She would not let death defeat her. Not again.

Tony Stark, with his usual irreverence, watched Agatha with a cynical smile as he adjusted his battle gloves. He faced the powerful witch, analyzing her with the eyes of someone about to deliver a comment to make the situation even more interesting.

"So, Agatha, is it?" Tony began, making an exaggerated gesture toward the witch's dress. "Is that medieval witchcraft look trending? You're really channeling that 'evil grandma' vibe, or is it just your personal style?"

Agatha, without losing her composure, shot him a frosty glare. "Oh. So, you think this is a joke?"

Tony shrugged, feigning indifference to the veiled threat. "Of course. Who wouldn’t want to be a supervillain with such... unique style?" He then paused, eyeing her up and down with exaggerated flair. "I’d say you and Mother Nature over there are in a fierce competition for who has more branches on their head, but, well, you’ve already won."

Rio, focused on the battle and beginning to feel the tension, wasn’t amused. The jealous look she shot Tony was immediate. She was ready to intervene, no matter what it took.

Agatha, with a sly smile, was about to reply with more venom, but before she could, Rio made a swift motion with her hand, releasing a wave of dark energy toward Tony.

"I think this little chat has gone on long enough, tin man," Rio said, her voice soft yet menacing.

The energy engulfed Tony in an explosion of shadows, leaving him barely enough time to react. The fight between Wanda and Agatha momentarily took a backseat as Rio attacked with the intensity of a storm. The humor vanished in an instant, replaced by a new, deadlier tension.

"Little Death," Tony coughed out, still wearing his signature smirk. "I knew it was only a matter of time before your lesbian jealousy kicked in and you lost your patience, but I didn’t think it’d be this quick. Also, this suit is brand new, and—"

Agatha glanced at Rio with a victorious smile, as if fully aware that Rio’s unexpected action had drawn all the attention away from the battlefield.

And then, magically, the man’s mouth was gone.

"Sometimes, tin man, the best answer is the simplest: shut up."

The battlefield around you was chaos. Energy beams, spells, and explosions filled the air, but in the depths of your mind, the only sound you could hear was the voice of your deepest instincts—a soft, commanding voice echoing within your being:

Shine for us. Shine for them.

It was as if the voice spoke directly to your soul, guiding you, awakening something ancient and divine within you. The pain that followed was unbearable—tearing through your flesh, your bones, your mortality. Yet instead of fear, you felt a surge of power, a growing force from within. And as you opened your eyes, you saw your mortal shell disintegrating, revealing something far greater.

You ascended, soaring skyward, the energy emanating from you illuminating the battlefield with a golden light that drew every gaze. Your power was absolute. You were glorious. It was as though the cosmos itself bowed before your essence.

The air around you shifted. The world paused for a second.

Your bones seemed to restructure into something stronger, more resilient. Your skin glowed as if made of starlight. Then, with a triumphant burst, massive wings of light erupted from your back, each beat powerful enough to make the heavens part in reverence. You felt an uncontrollable power within you, the energy of the universe coursing through your veins. With a single push, you shattered the magical restraints Rio had cast upon you.

Agatha, usually so composed and full of words, was silent, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly open, unable to comprehend what had just transpired.

“No…” Agatha whispered, as if the vision before her was an abomination, but in truth, it was the manifestation of what you truly were.

Below you, Wanda looked up, her eyes shining with a reverence she had never shown before. She saw you in a new light, transcendent and divine. Not just as the Guardian, not just as her wife and the mother of her child, but as a force of nature—someone beyond time and space. Her eyes were filled with adoration, her soul touched by the sight of you—glorious, powerful, something beyond human yet undeniably hers.

You needed no words. There was no need. The light emanating from you said it all. She rose toward you, as if you were the reason for existence itself. She knew you were the future, the beginning, and the end.

You felt your power expanding, and as you looked at Wanda, you knew the fight wasn’t over. But now, more than ever, you had the strength to fight for her, for Seline, for everyone you loved.

You shone, and everyone could see it now.

The sound of your wings beating was almost ethereal, a striking contrast to the devastated battlefield. You landed gracefully, your golden glow bringing an indescribable calm to the chaos. Wanda gazed at you, her eyes full of questions and hesitation. You, however, gave her a serene, confident smile and spoke with a voice that seemed to embrace her soul:

"Go get the children, my love."

It was a command, yet also a plea. Wanda hesitated for a moment, but then, as if the peace in your voice melted away any doubt, she nodded and disappeared into the horizon. For a moment, the war felt like a distant memory.

You turned to Agatha and Rio. Your golden eyes met Rio’s, filled with suppressed rage and palpable fear. Without a word, you took a step forward, facing her. The tension was suffocating. But something in your gaze—a mix of understanding and respect—disarmed her. Rio swallowed hard, her powerful demeanor faltering, and then, against all expectations, she gave a slight nod, allowing you to approach Agatha. Deep in her eyes, there was something more profound: silent tears of understanding only she possessed.

You walked slowly toward Agatha, who watched you with a confused and defensive expression. When you stopped in front of her, she raised her chin as if to challenge anything you might say or do. But you didn’t attack. Instead, your hand rose slowly, touching her cheek with a tenderness that completely caught her off guard.

"I see you…" you whispered, your words carrying the weight of ages. Your eyes glowed brighter, as if unraveling every thread of pain and suffering she had ever endured in the palm of your hand. "Your pain. You are ambitious… and you’ve carved painful paths for yourself."

Agatha’s mask began to crumble. Her eyes welled up, and for the first time in a long time, she looked vulnerable. There was no sarcastic laughter, no taunts—only a woman whose story was being laid bare, with no place to hide.

"Close your eyes, Agatha."

You tilted your head, silently conveying that no harm would come of it. After a long pause, Agatha huffed reluctantly and closed her eyes.

"And why should I?" she snapped, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and insecurity. But her guard was down now, just enough for you to notice the doubt in her stance.

The world around her dissolved. When she opened her eyes again, they were in a completely different place: a tranquil forest bathed in a soft, golden light. It was the same forest from your dreams. The air was heavy with memories but also carried something purer, more sincere.

Agatha glanced around, confused, and then her eyes fixed on something in the distance: a woman in old-fashioned clothing, cradling a baby to her chest. She seemed lost in thought, her face obscured by shadows, but the love in her gestures was unmistakable. Behind her, another figure watched with care, filled with reverence and an overwhelming sadness.

"You're the little boy's mother, aren't you?" you asked, your voice gentle but precise. Agatha's body stiffened beside you. She didn't respond immediately, but you felt the tension growing like a storm about to break.

"What do you know about that?" Agatha finally asked, her voice low and dangerous, but tinged with something deeper: fear.

You turned your gaze to her, your eyes gleaming with a light that seemed to uncover every piece of her soul. "I know enough, Agatha. And now, you will too."

The air in the forest pulsed with energy, every leaf and branch vibrating with the weight of the moment. Agatha remained rigid beside you, her eyes locked on the woman in the distance. When you mentioned the name "Nicholas," something inside her seemed to shatter. She took a step back, as if fleeing were an option.

"I can't..." she murmured, her voice almost inaudible but laden with weight. "Nicholas would never forgive me if he saw all the terrible things I've done."

You looked at her, the light in your eyes growing brighter as if trying to illuminate the shadows she carried. "Are you so certain of that, Agatha? Or is that just fear speaking? Shame?"

Agatha let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor. "Fear? Shame? Perhaps both. Do you know what I've done? How many lives I've taken? He... he was just a boy, and I... I lost everything trying to bring him back." Her voice broke at the end, and you saw the tears already streaming down her face.

You stepped closer, your presence radiating calm and understanding. "You’ve lost so much, Agatha. I know that. But hiding behind guilt won’t change what happened. Nor will it undo what you’ve done."

"I don't deserve his forgiveness!" Agatha shouted, her voice echoing through the forest. "How could I? I betrayed everything he stood for. I became... something he would never recognize."

You shook your head slowly, your expression full of empathy. "And yet, he’s here. Because his love for you is greater than any mistake you’ve made."

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out your words, but they had already pierced deep. "You don’t understand... I’ve seen the looks of those who hated me. Who feared me. He would do the same."

"You don’t know that," you replied, your voice firm yet gentle. "What you’re truly afraid of is believing that he could still love you. What if I told you he already forgave you, Agatha? That all he wants is to see you, to touch you, to feel the love you still carry for him?"

Agatha opened her eyes, the weight in her gaze almost tangible. "What if I can’t? What if I... what if I fail him again?"

You smiled—a sad but resolute smile. "You’ll only fail if you don’t try. Come. See him. Not for you, but for him. He deserves this, Agatha."

She hesitated, her breathing unsteady as her eyes returned to the scene ahead. The boy let out a soft laugh in the woman’s arms, and the sound seemed to break through every defense Agatha had built. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she nodded, her steps slow and unsure as you guided her.

"If he hates me..." she began, but you interrupted her.

"Then you’ll show him that, despite everything, the love you feel is real. And that he will always be your son."

As Agatha took each step toward the boy, a storm of emotions consumed her. It was as if every memory, every decision, every mistake hit her all at once. She remembered the witches she had deceived and betrayed, their faces still vivid in her mind. Some had begged for mercy, others had fought to the end, but all had fallen for her singular goal.

Flashes of her spells, the marks of her ambition etched into her opponents, and the screams of her victims haunted her. The lies she told, the alliances she destroyed—everything she did to achieve something she knew she could never reach on her own: Nicholas. Her boy.

Then came Seline. Her plan to use her had been calculated, almost mechanical at first. She was just a tool, a key to unlock the only thing that mattered. But the idea of taking something so pure, so innocent, to fuel her obsession... it ate away at her.

The boy’s soft cries pulled Agatha back to the present. Her thoughts were still heavy with guilt and regret, but that pure, innocent sound cut through like a blade. When she looked ahead, she saw you cradling the small baby, your posture serene as you murmured softly:

"You came from scratch..." Your words were almost a whisper, but they carried an ancient power, echoing in Agatha’s heart as if they were memories from another life. They were the same words she had once spoken, in a moment of vulnerability and magic.

Agatha's blue eyes brimmed with tears, unable to hold back the drops that slowly rolled down her cheeks. She couldn't look away from the boy—so small, so fragile, yet carrying the weight of her entire story.

You paused, your eyes glowing with an intense golden hue, as though something beyond the physical world had been revealed to you. Then, the vision came—clear and vibrant: Nicholas, now grown, running through a flower-filled garden, his laughter echoing like music. His brown hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he played joyfully. Beside him, a little girl with bright eyes and a radiant smile ran along, their bond of camaraderie evident.

The vision brought a genuine smile to your face, filled with satisfaction and peace. "Fate has drawn the right lines this time," you thought, feeling lighter, as though something greater had fallen into balance again.

When you offered the baby to Agatha, she hesitated. Her hands trembled, the thin, scarred fingers hovering in the air, almost afraid to touch him. At last, she took him into her arms, holding him with a gentleness that seemed incongruent with her hardened and imposing demeanor.

"Find your path again, Agatha," you said, your voice soft but firm, filled with an inescapable truth.

Agatha looked at you, still reluctant to let her facade crumble completely. "I’ll never forget this," she replied, her tone attempting to mask her vulnerability, but her tears betrayed her stoicism.

You smiled sweetly, almost maternally, as though you understood every barrier she tried to erect. "You won’t need to," you replied, your certainty shining like the stars.

As Agatha held Nicholas, something within her shifted. The weight of guilt didn’t vanish, but for the first time in millennia, a small spark of hope and redemption began to grow. The boy stopped crying and wrapped his tiny hand around her finger, and in that simple gesture, Agatha felt that maybe—just maybe—she could be something more than she had been until now.

[...]

The Christmas dinner was about to begin. Guests were likely already arriving, the laughter and chatter of children echoing through the house adorned with golden lights and wreaths. But you and Wanda were late. More than that: unavailable.

Upstairs, in the bedroom, things were far from festive—at least, in the conventional sense.

Wanda had pushed you onto the bed with an almost predatory hunger as soon as you crossed the door. Her eyes were dark, glowing with a lust that made you forget everything else. Her fingers trailed your skin with precision, as if she wanted to mark every inch of you before any of the guests downstairs had the chance to see you.

“You know they’re waiting for us…” you murmured between gasps, trying to sound responsible but failing miserably. Your fingers were tangled in Wanda’s hair, tugging slightly as she bit your neck.

“They can wait.” Her voice was low, heavy with desire. “You’re my present, and I’m not sharing.”

She kissed you again, this time more fiercely, as if trying to consume every breath you took. The touch of her hands on your thighs, moving slowly upward, sent a shiver through your entire body.

"My pretty little girl looks so beautiful today." Her fingers moved to your clothes, tugging at the fabric impatiently. "But I prefer you like this—naked. Mine. Only mine."

The possessive declaration made your heart race. Wanda had always been like this—intense, consuming—but today, there was something more. A kind of urgency, as though every second away from you had been unbearable.

“If anyone downstairs dares to ask where you are,” she murmured against your neck, biting softly before moving up to your lips, “I’ll tell them the truth. That you’re here. Wide open for me. Screaming my name.”

You couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped your lips, and Wanda smiled against your skin. “Mommy...”

"Do you like that idea, my doll? Everyone knowing you belong to me?"

You nodded frantically, incapable of forming a coherent response as her fingers traced slow, torturous circles over your most sensitive spot.

“They’ll hear you,” Wanda whispered, increasing the pace. “They’ll hear you begging for me.”

Your body began to arch against the mattress, your moans turning into something deeper, more primal. And Wanda was ecstatic, watching you like this—so vulnerable, so surrendered. She knew that no one, absolutely no one, would ever see you like this. Not even in their wildest dreams.

“Come on…” She tilted her head, her lips brushing your ear. “Give me everything. Show me who you really are when you’re with me. My precious little slut. My angel.”

It was as if something inside you shattered. The pleasure that had been building erupted, spreading through your body like liquid fire, consuming every thought, every sensation, until all that remained was Wanda. Wanda and pure, unfiltered ecstasy.

And then it happened.

You screamed her name, the sound reverberating through the room, and at that moment, your wings emerged.

Massive, majestic wings made of light and shadow exploded from your back. They spread with a snap, illuminating the room like a celestial display. Their weight made the mattress sink slightly, and the air around you crackled with an otherworldly energy.

Wanda froze for a moment, her eyes wide as she took in the scene before her. It was always breathtaking when it happened. You were transformed. Radiant. Divine.

But the surprise quickly gave way to adoration.

“Fuck…” Wanda murmured, her eyes gleaming with something almost reverent. She ran her hand over the feathers of your wings, feeling their soft, ethereal texture. “You… you’re so beautiful.”

Her touch on your wings sent a delightful shiver down your spine. It was as if the wings were an extension of your own nerves, sensitive to her touch, reacting to the slightest movement.

“I love your wings,” Wanda said in a low, almost reverent tone as her fingers glided over the soft feathers. There was something different in her voice—not just admiration, but a hint of possessiveness, as if those wings were an extension of her, something she had awakened in you.

You let out a short laugh, still trying to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "If I’m an angel, then what does that make you? A demon?"

Wanda lifted her gaze, a slow, dangerous smile curving her lips. Her eyes gleamed with something between pride and desire, but there was also a touch of darkness—a reminder that, although you were shining now, it was she who had ignited this flame.

“A demon?” she murmured, leaning in to brush her lips against yours. “No… something worse. Something that corrupts naive little girls like you. Something that makes them want to surrender to their own darkness.”

A shiver ran down your spine as her words wrapped around you like invisible threads, binding you again to that place between devotion and submission.

“Don’t forget that,” Wanda continued, her tone firm and possessive but tinged with the kind of tenderness only she could offer. “Everything you are now—your light, your wings, even the strength you feel—it’s all a part of me. I planted it in you. And I will never let you forget.”

Your wings trembled slightly under her touch, as if they themselves responded to that truth. You smiled, closing your eyes for a moment as you let it all sink in.

“Then maybe I am your angel,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet her burning gaze. “But you will always be my darkness.”

Wanda’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile before she kissed you again—a kiss filled with unspoken promises, with a love that burned and illuminated at once.

“My light,” she murmured against your lips, her fingers still tracing along the feathers of your wings. “And I, your chaos.”

Wanda smirked, a proud, satisfied expression crossing her face. She pulled you into a deep, slow kiss, as if sealing the moment between you two. When she pulled away, her intense gaze burned into yours, leaving a heat on your skin.

“Now, my light,” she whispered, “let’s head downstairs. I’m sure our guests have arrived—or, at the very least, the kids are planning to set the house on fire.”

You chuckled softly, a charming sound that lit the air. “On Christmas night? They wouldn’t want to miss out on pie…”

As you descended the stairs, the house was alive with laughter and noise. The doorbell rang persistently, accompanied by the sounds of Tommy tugging at Sparky in an animated tug-of-war. Billy, unfazed by the chaos, stood near the fireplace, angling for the perfect selfie. Seline, ever curious, crouched by the Christmas tree, shaking gifts in an attempt to guess their contents.

“Ah, so they do want to miss out on dessert,” you remarked, raising your eyebrows as Wanda sighed, crossing her arms and shooting a sharp look at the trio.

“Definitely no pie.”

“Tommy, let go of the dog. Billy, put the phone away. Seline…” Wanda paused, searching for the right words as she caught the little girl using her magic to peel back a piece of wrapping paper. “If I hear even one piece of tape tearing, you’d better be ready to explain to the pumpkin pie why you won’t be eating it.”

At the sound of Wanda’s voice, Seline quickly stood up and pointed at the gifts.

“I was just checking! I promise I didn’t open any!” she said, hands raised as though surrendering.

Wanda shook her head, sighing. “How does she have your entire personality?” she muttered to you, though there was a glint of pride in her eyes.

Before you could respond, the doorbell rang again—this time longer and more impatient.

“If it’s not them, whoever it is is about to get a lesson in patience,” Wanda grumbled as you moved to answer the door.

The moment you opened it, Nicholas darted inside like a ray of sunshine against the snow outside. He practically leapt into your arms, his wide smile lighting up his face.

“Auntie!” he exclaimed, brimming with the kind of energy only a child could have. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, making you crouch to hug him back.

In his small hands, a shiny wrapped box dangled precariously. From the way he clutched it, you knew exactly who it was for. The sparkle in Nicholas’ eyes, mixed with innocent anticipation, warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

You smiled, keeping your voice low so only he could hear. “Hey, sweetheart. Seline’s just by the tree. She hasn’t stopped talking about you for a second.”

Nicholas’ brown eyes widened, a different kind of sparkle dancing in them—something between happiness and a shy sweetness you rarely saw in him. He didn’t reply, just nodded quickly before darting in the direction you’d indicated, his steps light and eager.

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched the little ones. Nicholas placed the box carefully beside Seline, who, curious as ever, leaned in to open it—but not without glancing at him first, as though seeking permission.

The scene was so simple, yet in that moment, you saw your vision from months ago coming to life. The children’s laughter filled the air, exactly as it had in the image of the future destiny had shown you.

Nicholas, his messy brown hair damp with a light sheen of sweat, extended something small and golden to Seline. She, with Wanda’s eyes but a mischievous smile that was unmistakably her own, took the object carefully. And suddenly, as if time paused for a brief instant, you knew the line of destiny had been drawn perfectly.

You turned to find Wanda standing beside you. There was something in the way she looked at Seline and Nicholas—a mix of protectiveness, unease, and that playful jealousy she always pretended was stronger than it actually was.

Behind Nicholas came Agatha, draped in an elegant purple coat that seemed more fit for a queen than a family dinner. Her eyes swept the room with that familiar blend of veiled criticism and sly amusement that was her trademark.

“Well, what a charming Christmas tableau,” she commented, her tone almost sweet but sufficiently loaded to raise suspicion. “You still insist on keeping the tree so over-the-top, Wanda? It looks like every branch is in existential crisis, torn between too much decoration or total collapse.”

Wanda appeared in the doorway, her gaze sharp as a freshly honed blade. “Better over-the-top than monochromatic and dreary, Agatha. At least the kids don’t leave crying, thinking they’ve stumbled into a haunted mansion.”

Agatha’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Monochromatic is refined, dear. But I understand—not everyone has the capacity to appreciate subtlety. Some people need… twinkling lights to mask their lack of taste.”

Wanda crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward. “And some people need constant sarcasm to mask the fact that the last Christmas they celebrated was in the Middle Ages, isn’t that right?”

Agatha theatrically huffed. “Oh, Wanda, always so dramatic. It’s almost inspiring. But you know what’s even more inspiring? The courage to wear so much red and not look like a department store decoration.”

Wanda sweetly smiled, that dangerous smile you knew so well. “Says the expert in purple, the favorite color of villains in children’s books.”

At that moment, Rio walked into the room, casually adjusting her necklace while looking at the two of them with an expression of long-suffering patience. “You two never get tired, do you?”

Both women scoffed, making you laugh as you gathered the coats.

“Wine?” you asked, gesturing toward the table.

“Red,” Rio replied.

“Excellent choice.”

As you approached the table to fetch the glasses of wine for the women, you felt Wanda’s warm body embrace you from behind. The small, subtle kiss placed just behind your ear made you blush, as always.

When you separated, Wanda whispered to you, “They’re not leaving anytime soon, are they?”

You chuckled softly, squeezing her hand. “Of course not. It’s Christmas, love. And you know they’re our family now.”

Wanda let out an indignant sigh, but with that mischievous smile only she could pull off. “Fine, we’ll endure it. If we stay here too long, someone might set the house on fire, and I’m almost sure it’ll be Agatha.”

Right after, a loud, indignant voice rang out, making everyone in the room turn their heads toward its owner. “Do you know how long it’s been since I set a house on fire?” Agatha retorted, her impeccable posture daring the world.

“Agatha...” Rio warned, her eyes trying to bring calm but tinged with resignation.

“What? I’ve never set a house on fire!” she said, half-offended, half-joking.

“Really? But what about when the White House caught fire that year?” you teased, settling on the armrest of a chair, bringing a glass for yourself and one for Wanda.

Agatha grimaced, clearly displeased at being reminded of that incident. “Oh, that was an accident! I was trying to give Rio... a romantic surprise.” She paused, and everyone looked at her, waiting for more details. “I wanted a candlelit dinner, with fireworks at the end… I got a little carried away, and, well, the White House turned into an impromptu bonfire. But it wasn’t that bad! She loved it!”

“Of course I loved it,” Rio responded with a light laugh. “Who wouldn’t be touched by seeing a historic building go up in flames in the name of love?”

“But I... I’m getting better,” Agatha continued, trying to regain control of the situation.

“You always have an excuse, don’t you, Agatha?” Wanda decided to prod, poking at the woman’s ego.

You glanced at Wanda, who was laughing at the situation but with a touch of concern in her eyes. “Ah… But you’ve got your stories too, my dear,” you whispered to Wanda, making her blush slightly.

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Wanda murmured, raising a hand as if to ward off memories of a past disaster. “One thing’s for sure: if any house catches fire here, Agatha will be the first one blamed.”

The light-hearted mood continued, with everyone laughing and trading barbs, but the energy was undeniably warm. The house was full of life, laughter, and stories, and amidst it all, love was clearly present. Whether between Agatha and Rio or everyone there, something magical lingered in the air—without any fires in sight... for now.

The table was elegantly set, with cod dishes, colorful sides, and glasses clinking with wine flowing generously. Christmas at Wanda’s house was always a mix of magic and chaos, especially now, with Agatha and Rio unofficially mentoring the twins. Dinner, as usual, was filled with banter and laughter.

Tommy, brimming with the typical energy of his 18 years, spoke about his college indecision. “Berkeley seems like a good option… But maybe Stanford? Who knows, I might just flip a coin to decide.”

Wanda rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “Tommy, darling, the universe already handles enough chaos without you flipping coins for life decisions.”

“Exactly, Tommy,” Billy joined in the teasing, “because clearly chaos didn’t start with your habit of being late for everything.”

Laughter rippled through the table, but at some point, Billy’s expression turned thoughtful. He held his glass with exaggerated drama, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Everyone, I think it’s time for a revelation.”

Eyes turned to him, some curious, others with a humorous glint, already predicting what was coming. Billy paused, a true actor on stage, and announced:

“I’m gay.”

A second—maybe two, if someone wanted to exaggerate—of silence fell over the table. Then, collective laughter erupted like a wave.

“Wow, Billy, that was quite the revelation!” Agatha said with a sarcastic smile. “I think we’ll need a moment of silence to process that.”

“Absolutely shocking!” Rio declared, theatrically clutching her chest. “Must be why you spent an hour helping Wanda pick out the most stylish Christmas lights for the porch.”

Billy chuckled, blushing slightly but enjoying the reaction. “Okay, fine. I get it. That was about as shocking as saying the sky is blue.”

“Sweetheart, you ran out my anti-frizz cream,” you teased, laughing.

Wanda raised her glass, her eyes shining with affection. “Billy, darling, I’ll just say this: I’m your mother. I knew before you did. I just waited to see when you’d decide to tell us.”

“By the way,” Agatha interjected with a mischievous grin, “since we’re in a mood for revelations, Tommy, is there something you’d like to share?”

Tommy nearly choked on his juice, his eyes wide. “Me? No! I’m good, thanks. Pass.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Relax, Tommy. If you’ve got nothing to share now, we’ll wait. But only until next Christmas, okay?”

The boy shook his head, laughing nervously as everyone enjoyed his flustered state.

Amid the teasing and jokes, dinner remained light and welcoming, with Billy visibly relieved and Wanda watching the scene with a maternal smile. There was magic in that house—both literal and figurative. And while Agatha and Rio’s mentorship helped the twins shape their gifts, it was these simple moments, full of love and laughter, that truly defined the family they had built.

That night, Christmas wasn’t just about gifts or food. It was about natural acceptance, shared laughter, and the kind of love that turns even the most “shocking” revelations into something genuinely beautiful.

[...]

The night gently fell over the house, the cozy silence enveloping everything around. In the shadows of the bedroom, the soft moonlight touched their intertwined bodies, creating an atmosphere where time seemed to slow down. Wanda lay on her side, her penetrating gaze still filled with frustration, but also immense affection. She had lost herself in her thoughts, her arms wrapped around you, almost as if she wanted to keep you all to herself, only hers. But the restlessness wouldn’t leave her.

Finally, she turned to face you, her expression filled with a complex emotion. "This is so unfair! Having a daughter, only for a man to come and take her away from me," she said, pouting like a petulant child, not realizing that what was unfolding was far more than any possessiveness.

You let out a light laugh, full of tenderness, a laugh that felt more like a silent dance between two souls who understand each other without words. "Man? Nicholas is eight." You smiled, a hint of incredulity in your voice. "Wanda, I know you want to protect Selly, but she’s growing. Fate is set."

And when you said that, the sense of inevitability was palpable. Like an invisible current, unseen, but carrying with it the full power of a universe in motion. It was as if the threads of destiny had already been intertwined long before your eyes met, and now, their hands, young and pure, were beginning to reach out for one another.

But Wanda, always so impulsive, couldn't help but contest. "You’re the guardian, aren’t you? Do something." Her green eyes, filled with an irresistible charm, fixed on you, that glint in her gaze revealing she knew exactly what she was doing. You knew she was using this to try to make you change your mind, but you also knew she was just trying not to accept what, deep down, she already knew was true.

"Wanda..." you warned her, but she huffed, clearly frustrated with the impossibility of controlling what was coming.

"It’s just that the boys are already grown, adults, and she’s still my little girl," she confessed quietly, almost like a weakness, and you felt the weight of it, the fear of losing something she had built with so much love and care. But in truth, the reality was that this love was preparing the ground for something even more beautiful.

"Sweetheart, Selly is crazy about you, just like I am, she wouldn’t trade you for anything." You smiled softly, touching her cheek. "But you know... one day, they’ll have to date for real."

Wanda didn’t like that. She didn’t like to imagine her little girl, so pure and sweet, going into a world where things weren’t simple anymore, where feelings were complicated, where promises and destinies tangled in ways that could no longer be controlled.

"Sure, when she’s thirty and living in Canada." She crossed her arms, as if that was the only way to protect what she loved most.

"Wanda!" You laughed, but deep down, your heart was full of immense love, knowing that Wanda's concern was just another layer of protective affection that ended up making everything more beautiful, more real.

"Alright," Wanda finally said, letting out a sigh of surrender. "Just when she’s thirty, no need to go to Canada."

You sighed, a soft smile on your lips. "Wanda…"

"Alright, twenty-nine..." she relented.

You knew that everything that was to come, everything that was unfolding, was being paved by them in an inevitable way. Like two stars slowly drawing closer, pulled by the gravity of the universe, not even knowing they were destined to merge into a single, powerful glow.

The destinies of Seline and Nicholas had been intertwined from the first breath, like invisible threads connecting them without anyone being able to see. It wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about possessiveness. It was about something deeper, something that only time and love could reveal. And you knew that, when the right time came, they would find each other, not by chance, but because it was what the universe had planned.

And Wanda, as much as she wanted to protect Selly from the world, from all the risks, deep down knew that when the time came, it wouldn’t be a loss. It would be the beginning of a new story that would endure until the end of time.

The Infinite was never about a straight line. It was never about time or space, but about the moments that mark our hearts and change everything. Like fingers intertwining, like eyes meeting, like shared sighs in the silence of a cold night. The Infinite is made of choices, of loves, of losses. It is the memory of every step taken, the hope of each new day.

Being the Guardian of the Infinite is not about power, it’s not about controlling what is eternal. You always imagined it would be something grand, something beyond your understanding, but the truth is that the Infinite hides in the small things. In the smile we give to the people we love. In the gentle touch of a hand that holds ours. In the silent promise we make, without words, but with our whole hearts.

You saw the Infinite not as something distant, but as something so close, so vast and yet so delicate, that it made you feel small. Not in a sense of weakness, but in understanding that love — that feeling so simple and yet so complex — is the true force that holds everything. The Infinite is not in the distant stars, but in what is created between people, in those invisible connections that cannot be explained, only felt.

And it was there, in that moment charged with emotion, that you plunged into your own Crimson Reverie, a state where everything was pulsing, vibrant, full of meaning. The red was not just a color; it was a presence, a mark that represented both the intensity of love and the burning wounds it can bring. The Crimson was your bond, your eternal waking dream, a place where love and chaos intertwined, where you and Wanda existed as inseparable forces.

You came to understand that love has no beginning or end, because it is always there, waiting, silent, waiting for us to embrace it. It grows with us, transforms with us. Sometimes it’s sweet, sometimes it’s bitter, but it’s always real. And when we look at the people we love most, we see how strong those bonds are. They are what remains, what crosses time, what endures pain and distance.

This is how the Infinite reveals itself — not in a snap of fingers or in an explosion of power, but in a simple gesture, in a look. The moment you realized that your destiny was not to be the guardian of something immense and incomprehensible, but to be the guardian of the small moments of love that make up life. You are not just a force that holds time, you are a person, with a story, with loves and choices that make you who you are.

And in the end, it is love that writes the story, that gives meaning to what would be just a chaos of purposeless events. Because it is love that transforms, that heals, that blooms amidst grief, that teaches us to be more human. More vulnerable. And perhaps that’s what makes the Infinite so special: it’s not distant, it’s not cold. The Infinite is made of life, of love, of every person who crossed our path and left a mark. And in every moment, in every breath, the Infinite continues, and perpetuates itself, not in something grand, but in the softness of what unites us.

So, perhaps the secret of the Infinite is this: it’s in the simple act of living, of loving, of making mistakes, of starting over. Of knowing that, in the end, what matters is not how much time we have, but how much we love and allow ourselves to be loved. Because love is what makes us eternal. It is what makes us part of the greatness of the Infinite.

And that is what remains.

~*~

Thanks for following Crimson Reverie! And I wish you find your place in infinity <3

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[utilitycaster]

Do you think this episode is so boring because they brought back the Nein and reminded us how good they are? I keep thinking about this as I'm absently watching this episode, saw your post and would love to hear your thoughts on it. Because like, at least to me, most villains this campaign are painfully boring. But the Weave Mind are also boring. That was fine, M9 handled it perfectly and I loved it. Ludinus is arguably the only kinda interesting bad guy and a PC's mom is in mortal danger and I can't manage to care.

I don't find Ludinus and the Weave Mind boring! I don't find Liliana boring either! And I found Ozo Cruth and Otohan Thull DREADFULLY boring but actually, the fights with them are pretty fucking great. I mean, I have a LOT of criticism about the first Otohan fight that boils down to "this was EXCEPTIONALLY poorly signaled and I'd be PISSED if my character was killed for someone else's arc at this point in the story" but Otohan being boring is about the non-combat elements; she felt very real and compelling as a THREAT, just, she could have been a giant blender of magic knives that the party was going to be dumped in for all she had an impact on the story as a person. But I do think it is because we've seen the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina recently and remembered that they're orders of magnitude more compelling.

I think it's really like...I don't even want to say Bells Hells isn't bonded, but they lack something. I think I alluded to it in the tags of one of my posts but there's no banter between party members or sense of urgency. Like, I enjoyed the whole All-Minds-Burn/Myceit scenes a lot, actually, but after Imogen's initial (justified) panic the pacing felt unbelievably slow until we got to combat. I have found that really, for a good deal of the campaign, you have to kind of take things episode by episode and enjoy the good set pieces and scenes because it simply does not make for a pleasing and rewarding whole. The reason I didn't care about Liliana is, to be fair, partly because I think having her die would be an interesting development, but also because there wasn't a sense of "we can't stop and fuck around with mushrooms, LILIANA IS DYING" within the episode itself. No one was comforting Imogen as they ran through the tunnels. The Mighty Nein showed more personality and investment in the lead up to a fight that really, they had no more stake in other than the broad world-ending ones. As someone who's been playing a LOT of Veilguard which is all about building a close-knit team, and who's had VM and the Nein the past month to compare Bells Hells with, that lack is immediately apparent.

I said, over a year ago (possibly over two, I don't recall) now about one of the relationships in the campaign that it felt like when I see a single episode from a soap opera I don't follow. The actors are imbuing lines with emotion, but everything feels kind of disconnected. Like, this is all in a deeply subjective realm, I cannot give you a strong argument based on logic here as it's very much vibes-based, but I feel like when I watched this, my thought process was "BAFTA-winning Actor Laura Bailey is doing an excellent job of conveying the emotions 'terror and anguish over a dying relative' in this line read, and not "Imogen Temult, a character I've been familiar with since October 2021, is devastated over the potential demise of her mother.' " And I never had that issue with C1 and C2. Like, you can call it je ne sais quoi or the juice or the sauce or chemistry or the spark or whatever the fuck but Campaign 3/Bells Hells simply doesn't seem to have it for a huge number of people who have adored pretty much every other Critical Role work, and that means something. My personal thought is that it's because this has been such a plot-focused campaign without strong DM prepping of what kind of characters would be appropriately invested that we've had the problems we did (rampant indecision, lack of party chemistry due to lack of early opportunities to mingle and meld, lack of investment in each others' lives due to insufficient time focused on backstory-related plotlines), but I could be wrong, and ultimately the root cause isn't super important to this question, which is just. they don't have the it factor.

[pippin-pippout]

I just watched MelonTeee's video on Ace and Worth and man the internal debate I have with myself on whether I agree with the choice or not...

Her video explains the fandom's love for the character so well, as well as why the tragedy hit so hard. For me personally I have not been that affected by a character death in a LONG time.

And I understand it from a certain narrative perspective – mainly how Ace's past continues to feature in the story a decade later, and Whitebeard's line that someone would carry Ace's flame, because that clearly describing Luffy. He goes after the mera mera no mi and finishes what Ace started in Wano.

But there are two major narrative reasons given for Ace's death that I disagree with. And are largely why I think it shouldn't have happened, and also why the death has hit me so hard.

This is going to get long, but I would really love to hear everyone's thoughts on it if you choose to read!

To give Luffy the push he needed to be stronger: I am pretty confident this is Oda's stated reason (in addition to Oda wanting to prove he could kill characters which I guess he said at one point and which is bleh given the level of injury a character sustains seems to have nothing to do with whether they die or not lol it's just what the author wants to happen). Anyway. That push already happened on Sabaody when Luffy lost everyone to Duma. He was HELPLESS. More helpless than he was through most of marineford. And when Rayleigh convinces Luffy to do the 2 years training, Rayleigh only brings up their epic defeat on Sabaody. He does not bring up marineford or Ace's death as a reason Luffy needs to get stronger. Because Luffy did not need that reason. The only argument I can think of is that maybe once he landed on Amazon Lily, and he realized the strawhats were likely alive, the terror he felt on Sabaody abated slightly. And therefore maybe he needed a reminder of what "loss" truly is to re-motivate him. However, I don't think that is really fitting with his character or the story.

Ace's dream was fulfilled: Oda has talked about the reason he doesn't kill villains is because not having your dream fulfilled is a worse fate than death. I think part of the tragedy of Ace's death was that his dream wasn't fulfilled. Even for those who accept his last words - that he had only one regret which was not seeing Luffy accomplish his dream - the amount of time he got to live with that dream was literally the last moments of his life. But I don't think just because you die with no regrets, does not mean your dream is fulfilled. Especially when Ace never truly internalized what his dream was. His final choice to turn around showed HOW MUCH he still was that lonely, scared little kid he was at 10 despite his warm smile and his growing family. The most heartbreaking part of the flashback was not Sabo's death. It was watching Ace asking the question "do I deserve to exist?" and giving all his devotion to those who said yes. It was him making the exact same decision he would make 10 years later, to refuse to run, because he felt like if he ran he would lose everything and Luffy was standing behind him. Ace's final words do more than state he has no regrets. He also gives the answer to the question he'd asked Garp, and that Garp had said only his actions could decide. Ace died thanking Luffy and his family for loving him despite the "worthless" or "good for nothing" person he was. Ace was moved to tears to hear his family emphatically saying "YES. You do deserve to live! We want you to live!" But Ace never actually believed it. His last words were a reflection of gratitude for the love he was given that he didn't feel he deserved. And thus his final answer to the question "Do I deserve to exist?" was no.

That he was too "good" This is kind of the most upsetting one I've heard (thankfully not a lot) and also the one easiest to dismiss. Ace, being the actual son of the pirate king, being super powerful, growing in strength and reputation faster than Luffy (debatable), put him narratively in competition with Luffy. What I mean by that is it positions him as too much the golden character, the mary sue, the typical protagonist, when One Piece is about Luffy's story, not Ace's. I disagree with the premise of seeing Ace's character that way. But also even he was "that" character, it's pretty clear Ace's dream would have taken him to becoming Whitebeard's heir - whose dream it was to build a family - while Luffy is Gol D Roger's heir. So Ace's journey would have supported the main story of One Piece and also be narratively satisfying.

---

What Was Ace's Dream?

The dreams Ace stated out loud were more reflections of his actual, deeper dream. "I want to be the king of the pirates" - because he wanted to prove his existence and his worth to the world. Which switched to "I want to make whitebeard the king of the pirates" - because Whitebeard loved him despite his blood, and so even if that wasn't what Whitebeard wanted, it was how Ace understood he could repay Whitebeard.

Both of those stated dreams get back to this question he'd been asking his whole life - that of worth. Worth and Love, which, for Ace's character, are inseparable.

For Ace's dream to truly be fulfilled, it's not enough for him to accept he was loved – which he did on the scaffolds, crying from happiness – he had to believe he was worth that love. He had to love himself.

Ace died with that dream tragically unfulfilled.

---

The Purpose of One Piece

Of course the decision to kill Ace makes the story more realistic and of course it is heartbreaking, tragic, moving, and obviously inspires deeper discussion.

However, what rankled me from when I first learned about his death, which was way before I was even introduced to the character in Alabasta, was that he is the only character of the younger generation (outside of flashbacks) to die.

Honestly when I first heard Ace was one of the only characters to die, I was just worried it would make him seem weaker or stupider than every other character, which is a personal pet peeve of mine. Luckily for most fans, it didn't do that.

Instead, what wound up upsetting me was how it seemed to contradict the purpose of the story that is One Piece (at least what I think the purpose is). In doing so, it opposes the meaning that many fans find in this absurd, ridiculous, inspiring, heartfelt, heroic tale about a boy made of rubber.

One Piece is an escapist story about a boy named Luffy who inspires every good guy he meets to pursue and achieve their dream. It's also about Luffy beating up every bad guy who punishments are that they cannot fulfill their morally reprehensible dreams.

Because of Ace's premature death, he is the only good guy character in the main timeline who does not get to pursue his dream. And what's extra tragic is that he is also one of the most deserving of seeing his dream fulfilled.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I wanted to ask, in the kids turned sparkling au, Starscream was teaching Miko how to be the next winglord. Assuming he lived after Predacons Rising, or died and came back like Optimus, would she still treat him like a secondary parent, and eventually become winglord?

Ah yes Starscream.

Previous part here.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

The matter of Starscream was one Tari did not like to consider. She had memories of Starscream trying to kill her when she was still Miko, but she also had recollections of a time when things were better. She remembered Starscream carrying her through the skies, letting her small wings flutter with the currents before she had learned to fly. She could still recall when he'd held her in his arms, telling her tales of Vos and the glory of the city he proclaimed would one day be hers. She had listened with such intent that even as a fully framed adult, she couldn't help but sometimes wonder if he was still out there, and if he still cared.

She was happy being a Wrecker, and she was happy being away from her family, even if she missed them at times. But as she aged, she felt a void within her, one that was for once, not caused by the loss of her Sire. She remembered stories of the great city that even after Cybertron's restoration, was not again floating in the sky. Starscream had always said that it was the duty of all fliers to watch over their city, to protect it, and to ensure that all who followed after them would have a place to call home.

Tari remembered, and so she decided to act.

Before Optimus's return, she set out on a journey across the stars. Her goal was simple: Find Starscream and get him to help her restore Vos. Sure, he might have been a Decepticon, but her memory painted him as a far more reasonable mech than some of the Autobots she dealt with on a regular basis. And without her Sire? Well... maybe digging up a few old memories would do something good for her aching spark.

It was far easier than she expected to find Starscream, although it hurt to track him down. He was hidden on Earth, her world of origin (a fact she will only begrudgingly admit). When she found him, he was wrapped up in his plans to get back at everyone and everything. She took him by total surprise, and their first meeting was by no means the one she had been hoping for. Starscream didn't recognize her, all he saw was her Wrecker badge.

Tari: Starscream! Hold your fire! I come in peace!

Starscream: An Autobot comes in peace? HA! As if I would believe that!

Tari: My designation is Sagittarius, Tari for short. Don't you remember me?

Starscream: A flier named after this mudball's constellations? How the mighty have fallen.

Tari and Starscream shot at each other for a while, and in the end, Tari had to hunt him down several times over the course of a few months. It was due to this hunt that she ended up with Bumblebee and his team on Earth for a time. She needed the extra guns to get into the Decepticon base on Earth where Starscream was supposedly hiding out. Her adventures with Bumblebee and his team were a whole other series of shenanigans. But in the end, she got her prize.

"Well Autobot? You've caught me. Are you going to kill me now?"

"No, I want you to talk to me. Please, just take a moment and remember me Starscream. I've already lost Optimus, I don't want to lose the only other bot that came even close to being my Sire."

"..."

"..."

"Mistress of the Terran skies. That was your full designation... wasn't it?"

Silence reigned over the duo for a time as Tari led Starscream out in cuffs. He would still need to answer for his crimes... but she would do all she could to lessen the sentence. For once, he went along without argument and allowed Tari to take him back to Cybertron to face justice. Seeing her reminded him of what he had been hoping for all those years ago when the war still raged. He had all but forgotten the precious sparkling he'd been so keen to raise once Megatron died. Predacons, Vehions, Terrorcons... it had all kept him distracted, especially as he sought out his old frame once more.

He would need to make things better.

Tari returned him to Cybertron and worked with anyone willing to side with Starscream during his court case. With a lot of effort, she was able to convince the Council that keeping Starscream alive was not only beneficial, but in the best interest of all of Cybertron. How did she do this? Why, she simply made it clear that Starscream had named her the heir of Vos... on live television. What was the Council to do? If they claimed Tari was lying, they would be disregarding the words of the Prime's sparkling. If they claimed her station was irrelevant, then they would earn the collective ire of every flier on Cybertron. There was almost no choice but to let Starscream out on parole and give Tari the funds needed to begin preparing to rebuild Vos.

Tari and Starscream were still rather tense, but working together on a common goal eased a lot of the pain that had developed over the years. Starscream guided Tari in her efforts and covered for her when she returned to the Wreckers. He laid low when she wasn't around and taught her as much of the old culture of fliers as possible. Over time, the wounds healed, and Starscream was able to proudly call himself Tari's mentor. Optimus was not made aware of Starscream's station in Tari's life until Vos rose into the skies once more and Starscream was there to announce Tari is official heir. It was a shock to say the least, but Tari relished in the companionship of her old secondary caretaker.

"Thank you for coming back with me."

"Thank you for giving me a second chance. To see Vos rise once more is a far greater accomplishment than anything I ever did during the war."

"You aren't so bad Starscream."

"HA! Lord Megatron would have a thing or two to say about that!"

[silencedvoices]

June of Doom Day 3

"Well, well, well..." | Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

Content: implied stalking, implied torture, drugging, recapture

Whumpee had a sinking feeling that someone had been watching them. Everyone, even themself, tried to brush it off as just the result of being held captive by Whumper for so long. It was just them being paranoid. Or so they thought.

One night after Whumpee had come home from a somewhat normal day at work, they swore they heard footsteps from upstairs. They listened closely and stopped in their tracks as they heard someone making their way down the stairs. Nope, definitely not their imagination. They grabbed a kitchen knife and scrambled into the back of the nearest closet.

Whoever was there was taking their dang time. This made the situation all the more real, and Whumpee hardly noticed they were holding their breath.

As the intruder got closer, Whumpee could make out the all too familiar click of shoes across the tile floor. When the closet door was pulled open, the knife was rendered useless as Whumpee completely froze in terror, dropping the knife as menacing eyes looked down on them.

"Well, well, well," Whumper grinned, "What do we have here?"

Whumpee merely looked up at Whumper dumbfounded. After all the effort in running and rebuilding their life, Whumper had still found them.

"I'm honestly disappointed you thought you could hide from me Whumpee."

"How'd you-?"

"It was quite easy honestly. After you escaped I just asked around. It wasn't hard to notice a traumatized little person like you wandering around begging for help. Gosh, almost everyone I asked had heard about you. I just followed the trails and here I am."

I mean Whumpee couldn't really be surprised at that. They had learned in their time with Whumper that Whumper had ties everywhere. They were overall a kind person to those who knew them under different circumstances and therefore a lot of people trusted them. Whumpee internally cursed themself for thinking they ever had a chance. Whumper would always have the upper ground.

"How long ago did you find me?"

"Oh, months ago. It's been fun watching you try to undo all the work I've done. No matter what you do, I'm still there. Heck, the evidence of me is all over your body."

Whumpee shivered as the scars littered under their sweater became all the more noticable. It was like someone had stuck a match to them and everywhere Whumper had ever hurt them was on fire, burning so hot they couldn't scrub away the pain.

"I'm surprised you could even hold this knife without being reminded of me," Whumper easily picked up the knife, Whumpee too scared to try anything. "We both know that deep down, you'd never be able to hurt me anyways, not after all I've done to you."

Whumpee didn't know what to do anymore. They were corned and Whumper was right, they'd never be able to hurt Whumper no matter how much they wanted to. They could at least waste some time by talking, maybe get some of the answers they'd been hoping for.

"So it was you all along. Everyone thought I was crazy. Even I thought I was."

"Yeah. That's the other thing that was fun. Watching you always on edge trying not to lash out at everyone that tried to help you, but you still ended up pushing them all away. That's why no one is here to save you Whumpee. I'm the only one you have whether you like it or not."

Whumpee shivered at that thought. It was the truth no matter how much they tried to wipe it from their mind. Whumper knew them all too well.

Whumper couldn't help but love how careful Whumpee was being. Trying to stall time, barely saying a word, not even fighting back. That was a big improvement from when they'd first taken Whumpee.

"Ready to go?" Whumper asked, even though they both knew Whumper would drag Whumpee kicking and screaming out the door.

Whumpee's heart dropped, "Wait... what?"

Whumper laughed, "Come on Whumpee, you really thought I just came here to scare you? No, I'm taking you with me."

"You- you can't! This is my home now. I- did so much to get here and... and you can't just take it all away again!"

"Oh, just watch me," Whumper's grin was something Whumpee was all too used to, but this time it was filled with a coldness Whumpee had never seen before and it scared them so, so much.

Before Whumpee could even blink, Whumper injected something into their neck.

"Nonono. You did not," Whumpee's world began to spin and nausea crept up their throat.

"Oh yes I did."

The last thing Whumpee remembered before their world went dark was Whumper scooping them up and their cold voice in their ear.

"Time to go home Whumpee."

[sapphic-enigma]

Mel knew what they were doing was wrong. There was no way around that, but she couldn’t help herself. Everything was so much easier with Vi. Sure, she was from undercity, her sister had been terrorizing piltover, and she was dating Caitlyn, but she didn't care. Well, not enough to stop sleeping with her.

"Fuck Princess, even better than I remember," Vi panted as she rolled over in bed.

"Oh, better than what you remember from two days ago?" Mel answered a smirk forming on her lips.

Vi sat up slightly to look at her, "Can you blame me for being eager to get you back in bed?"

Vi reached over and pulled Mel towards her. Mel tucked her head under Vi's chin and cuddled into her. Mel knew how much Vi enjoyed feeling like the big spoon since Mel was taller than her.

"I would never blame you, love, but we have to remember to be discreet," Mel reminded her.

"I know. But it's hard. I mean, I have to act like I've never spoken to you. Honestly, I don't think anyone even knows we know each other, so we don't have much to worry about," Vi said.

Mel pulled back out of Vi's hold to look her in the eyes.

"Violet, I know you think that, but it's different in piltover. Because of who I am, people are always watching. I can’t let this get back to Jayce. Or Caitlyn," Mel said.

"How long are we going to keep doing this? You want me. I want you. Why are we sneaking around?" Vi whined.

She had been in piltover for a few months now. After her sister blew up the council, things with her and Cait were difficult. She cared about Caitlyn immensely, but Jinx was still her sister. It was hard for Vi to reconcile that two of the most important women in her life wanted each other dead.

Everything felt off. She was staying with Caitlyn and her father, but he clearly didn't want her there. But Vi couldn’t go home. She didn't really have a home to go back to. The tension with Vi and Caitlyn's dad became too much and boom! She ran into Mel when she wondered out of Caitlyn's mansion, trying to sort things out in her head.

Vi was sure Mel was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, and she had just accidentally shoved her into a fountain. It wasn’t the best first impression, but it got them here.

Mel sighed and bowed her head slightly.

"I know this isn't...ideal. But given the state of things, due to your sister I might add, I don't want to have any more issues with the council," Mel responded after a moment.

"That excuse is getting old Mel. I'd understand if this was new and the attack was fresh, but it's been months. I love you, but I can't wait forever," Vi said, getting out of bed.

"Vi wait, you don't have to go yet. Just stay, please." Mel pleaded.

In truth, she knew Vi was getting antsy. At first, all she and Vi did was talk. They vented about their day. Discussed what would happen with Zaun and Piltover. They talked to each other about whatever they couldn't say to their partners. Or things they did say that caused arguments.

Eventually, the talking became more physical comfort. At first, it was simple things. Their hands brushing when they sat next to each other. Hugs that lasted a little too long. They were friends, it wasn’t odd for friends to touch. But Mel knew exactly when things changed for them.

When Vi held Mel's face in her hands to qwell any tears that were threatening to spring forth. Mel knew. She knew that these last few months were bearable because she had Vi. When the days were too much and the council called for blood, sneaking off to talk with Vi in private kept her sane.

"I know you want more than this Vi. You know I do too. But we have to be smart about this. I need all the people I can get on my side if I'm going to propose peace between zaun and piltover. If Jayce finds out what we're doing, he'll never back me up." Mel tried.

Vi didn't turn around, but she stopped putting on her clothes. The shirt she grabbed balled up in her left hand.

"Are you sure it's that or do you not-"

"Vi, I want this," Mel cut her off.

Slowly leaving her bed, Mel walked up behind Vi. Mel was still naked as she wrapped her arms around Vi. She involuntarily shivered at that skin on skin contact. Mel loved how she and Vi just fit.

Mel leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Come back to bed, darling."

Vi hummed and let Mel pull her back to bed. Vi wasn't sure what to believe. If you let Jayce tell it, Mel could be a manipulator, but Vi didn't see that side of her. Mel always seemed genuine to her. Even if she had her own agenda, her ability to be persuasive wasn't something she could fault her for.

"Fine. But only because you wore me out and I'm too tired to go back to Cait's."

Mel just smiled as she and Vi curled up in bed together. She would need to figure out when to break up with Jayce, but for now, she just wanted to fall asleep in Vi's strong arms.

[tallovines]

JOY AND MUCH MERRIMENT,

FROM BEAUTIFUL NÁLÆGT, ICELAND!

—

"Hello, Viness!! :D

FemboyBright invented a dildo gun and won't stop terrorizing people with it so now I have to tell him to stop wearing prostitution clothing AND to stop terrorizing people with a dildo gun.

WiseBright, my dearest, and the one native to this timeline, for the love of him, WILL NOT STOP GIVING PEOPLE RAW ELEMENTS AS CHRISTMAS PRESENTS. I'VE HAD TO SEND 28 INTERNS TO REYKJAVÍK BECAUSE OF THAT?? ☹️

Oh, and of course!! Everyone else! Y'know, it's weird! I'd expect to know you somehow, but I guess not! I've filed quite literally every single person, Site-61 or not, and their Personnel File, updates included, and yet.. not once have I heard of you, Mr. Vines! I suppose some people just exist and are locked to specific timelines? A fascinating study that would be! ..GETTING OFF TOPIC IN WRITING, SOMEHOW. SORRY!!

Clef and Kondraki rounded Cimmerian, Iceberg, Glass.. basically anybody on The Notable Persons List to an 'SCP Speed Dating 2' in The Library of Records. Unauthorized. Using SCPs of Site-61 permitted either as personnel or for roaming access. I immediately shut it down because besides the first one already being an atrocity, it started to lure Liddy Doves (trust me, I could fill THREE entire messages about that woman... long story short, she runs a GoI that makes SCPs based around romance, lust, and the concepts of love for the purposes of creating marriages from their products.) who would've gladly sponsored the event and then held a wedding for the "winners" after the fact.

I love my personnel, but seriously? It's the week before Christmas. They can't behave themselves? Truly? I suppose when you work on a Site that Dr. Wondertainment himself frequents, you just aren't normal from the second you sign off on the Reassignment Form.

Ah well.. waiting to hear back from you! I'm sure your timeline, and Talloran! (Oh, do say hi to your Talloran! I would say hi to mine, however he's quite the shut-off towards me! Apparently my situation reminds him too akin of what has happened to him, or something along those lines? Hm!) Do say hello to him for me! :D"

- Sincerely (and now covered in glitter glue because I wrote this while watching over SCP-053 (don't ask. I.. don't know how it works either.) and she wanted to "write to whatever you're writing for!! :D", so.. ignore the decorations at the end of this message, will you?), your pen-pal from a timeline much more absurd than yours, Site-61 Director Benjamin Oliver Walker.

🌸 🦄 G 🩷🩷AY

🙂 👼 peple ⭐️

🦄🌸🦄🌸🦄🩷🌸🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️🩷⭐️

TO: waekr friend 🧚‍♀️

FROM: ✨me ✨

hallo ! errr... greetings from the sonoran desert ? sorry i dont really know how to greet these dang letters !!! but i hope the seasons been treating you well ^___^;

femboy- wha... pardon who ? he WHAT ...? gosh where do i even begin to unpack this... would i even WANT to do that ???

ah well... 'nother bright ? well geez... i know you like him ? i think ? but id actually like to get to know 'm ! im not really familiar with the a lot of the scp personnel ahahaha... sounds like a funny guy tho ! i wouldnt complain if i got an element for christmas those thingies are coool :D

ouh also well, wowza... thats so strange :< i dont like... 100% understand your whole... errr... timeline thingies... but wouldnt you expect me to be there at least one other tiiime ? ehhh whatever maybe ill be the first one you meet and then you can meet more ! teeeheee

ouhhh WAOHHH… i dont really know those other people,,, but ive heard of kondraki ? maaaybehaps ? wanted to meet him ! but thats sososo ? i wanted to say cool buuut i dont know if its really appropriate ? how do people even come up with these things... speed dating in a place like this ? i knowww different sites are different but its the foundation is it not ? they trying to date anomalies or what :< ?

i mean id be a little interested in something like that ? a tiny bit ? a small amount ? uhhh errr... who said that ! was just small curiosity is alll !!! aaahahaha... i dont take interest in anyone.

WELL ! ummm well errr… ahah… site 61 sure does sound silly !!! i’ll say hai to james for ya’ :3

(pspsps please tell 053 she’s very sweet even tho i don’t understand… what she’s trying to tell me)

-researcher violet vervain vines :D

[rachi-roo]

AAAAAHFINALLY SOMONE WHO DOES ANGELS OF DEATH

breathes

Anyway could I request a ler issac fic cause god him being a mean a sadistic ler and teaser brain go brrrrrr where he chases a reader, their worse spots being their ribs and hips

-------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }--------------

Angels Of Death: Tickly Terror

Uh oooooh! I've been found by a fellow AOD fan 🫣 Greetings, I think I love you! XD Thanks so much for the request and your patience! Zack is such a MONSTER! I luv it 🤩

Summary: Reader is attacked by a certain serial killer who has a soft spot for people in your line of work. He won't kill you now, but he has other plans to make you suffer.

Ler!Issac, Lee!Reader

Tw: Knifes, Swearing, Cruel tiggles

--------------------☆ ☆------------------------

Well, this was not what you had in mind for a nice Friday out on the town.

Running for your life, that is.

It all happened so fast. You knew taking that shortcut down the backstreets might be a bad idea, but you thought the worst might be some bum asking for a lighter, not a crazed maniac to start chasing after you with a knife.

You glanced over your shoulder, heart pounding in your chest. He was still there. Hot on your heels and gaining. The sound of his boots and insane laughter growing louder and louder. Chills running down the back of your neck.

He's coming! He's right on you!

You feel your stomach drop as you trip, tumbling to the concrete with a thud. You spin your head round, suddenly face to face with your pursuer.

His bandage covered face inches from yours as he smiled an unsettling smile. You can smell blood on his clothes. That coppery scent was dried onto his dirty hoodie.

It felt like an eternity of staring at each other before he finally spoke.

"Not gonna beg for your life?" He asked, standing over your body with a chuckle as he toyed with the knife in his hand, feeling the blade from handle to point. "I'll make this quick if you do." He continued, lowering himself onto your waist and placing a hand over your throat, holding you in place.

Petrified, you just lay there, staring at him. Your chest heaving, heart about to jump from your ribs.

A squeak left your lips as his knife suddenly slashed towards your throat. You clench your eyes shut. Waiting for the impact-!

...Impact?

You anxiously open one eye, looking up at the attacker who now held your ID card from work as it had fallen from your pocket. He narrowed his eyes as the words.

"... Does this say nurse?" He asked, showing you the card.

You gulp, trembling as you speak. "Y-Yes... I'm a c-childrens hospice nurse... I work with orphans."

The attackers face sank as he tossed your ID aside with an aggrivated groan. "Damn it. I can't kill ya' now I know that... Damn, Ray. She made me soft!" He cursed himself as you watched on, wondering who 'Ray' was.

Though, that didn't really matter. What mattered was the fact you weren't going to die! A small sigh of relief passing your jittering lips. The feeling didn't last long though.

"However, I'm still going to have to make you scream. I went through the trouble of chasing you down after all. I've earned it." The boy nodded as he leaned closer, softly tracing the dull side of his knife up and down your side.

The feeling of the dull point dragging across your side, through your thin shirt, sent a tingling sensation across your torso. You bit your lip, biting back a smile as your fingers curled up reflexively. What if a smiling pisses him off?!

But, it tickles! So bad! The cold tone of your attacker reminded you of the situation you're in.

"Your tag said y/n... So tell me, y/n, where should I start? Don't worry, I'll keep the injuries hidden. I don't want to worry the kiddies or-... Are you fucking smiling right now?" He asked with a dumbfounded glare.

"N-No! No, I'm not! I'm really not!" You blubbered, your hands shooting up defensively as you fought down a giggle.

"Yes you are! I saw it! You we're so smiling! You think this is funny? You got some kind of pain kink or something? Youd better tell me cus' I aint here for that noise."

"No! No, I-I swear it's not that! Your knife! It- It just- Eek!" You squeal as he traced the length of your stomach with the dull blade again.

The boy smirked, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he finally put all the pieces together.

"Oooh." He chuckled.

"No! No, it's not what you think!"

"Haha, I think it's exactly what I think." He shifted his weight, trapping your arms by your side, beneath his knees. He knacked his knuckles, grinning a fanged grin as he prepared himself for the fun he was going to have with your helpless body.

He held his limber didgets out, flexing them close to your stomach to start with, revelling in the way you squeaked and tried to suck your belly in to avoid the fingers.

"I'd say sorry, but I'm really not." He chuckled before diving into your soft skin, vibrating and clawing at your tummy.

"Gh-! Haha! N-Noho! H-Hehey! Wait! WAIT! PleheEEEHE-!"

You giggle, legs kicking out behind your attacker as he dug into your tummy, chuckling with you.

"Hmm, I think you can beg better than that." He smirked, his hands shifting to ruthlessly claw at your sides. Even rolling up your shirt to attack the bare skin directly.

"WAH! S-Stahap! Please! Pleheheee-! Aha!" You yelp, twisting and turning, doing anything you can to escape.

This just eggs your attacker on. The hood of his hoodie shrouding his expression in a shadow, but you can feel him grinning at you, enjoying your suffering.

"Haha, poor little thing. Look at you, so helpless. And I'm not even hurting you! You're just too ticklish for your own good, huh?" He sneered, pinching up and down your sides, until he inched juuust too far upwards, finding your lowest ribs.

"FUHUCK! Wait!" You yelp, curling in on yourself to the best of your ability in your trapped state.

"Hm? Ooohohooo. Is that your sweet spot?" He jeered, latching onto your ribs with deadly precision, vibrating his fingertips into the sensitive dips and bumps that made up your ribcage.

A scream ripped from your mouth as he tickled you there. It really was the worst! This whole situation was a nightmare!

"NOHO! ShihiIIIIHIT! AHAAA-!... gasp AHA! Noho! NNNAAAHA!" No amount of kicking and squirming was working. This sadistic stranger had you trapped and completely at his mercy. Something he definitely wasn't going to give you.

"Take that! And that! Haha! Bet you're regretting coming out tonight now, hah? Tickle, tickle, tickle! Weak, ticklish little looser, aren't ya?" He teased, cruelly insulting you in a childish manner. Not letting up from your sensitive ribs yet.

"Pleheheee-!... gasp GAHAHAAAD!"

"I ain't no God, call me Zack." He chuckled.

"Zahack! Plehehease! Stop! Stop! Stop! StahAHAHA!" The more you begged, the more he tickled. He was truly an evil being.

Zack grinned, shifting his hands and drilling his thumbs into your hips as he spoke.

"Ooh, look at that expression. So much suffering under such a bright smile. Haha! So silly looking~ Coochie, coochie, coo~"

"NYAAHAHA! ZAAAHACK!" You arch your back, desperately trying to dislodge his vicious thumbs from your protruding hips. "Fuhuck! NnnOHO-!... *gasp* AHAHA!"

Nothing worked! Nothing was going to work! You were completely at his mercy.

Hearing your pleas, he laughed, mocking your attempts to make him stop. "Oooh, Zaaack! Please! Don't tickle me! Oh nooo! Haha! You sound so pathetic! Tickle, tickle, tickle~! How about here? Or here? Nah, back to the ribs!"

He teased and taunted, his hands dancing between various different areas of your torso before latching back onto your ribs.

As the tears pooled in your eyes, and the laughter became breathy and full of hiccups, you wondered if he would ever stop.

"HEHELP! Help-! Ahaha! H-HeheaaaAAAHA! Help mehehe! Please!"

"Calling for help now? Pff, you really are completely helpless, aren't ya?" His cruel smile sent a shiver down your spine, realising just how right he was.

"NOHO! S-ShihihahaAHA-! AH!" A yelp passed your lips as the crook buried his face into your neck, blowing a raspberry into your skin, making you shrill in ticklish delight.

He loved the sounds you were making. So pained, yet so happy! It's weird, even this killer knows that. "Haha, I wonder how long you can take this. An hour? Several hours? A day maybe?! PfffAHAHA! Let's find our, shall weeee? Yyyyy/nnnn~?"

You weren't sure how long this torture had gone on for, but the awful tickling sensations on your hips suddenly stopped. You blinked the tears from your eyes, realising that Zack was no longer sitting upon your waist.

He stood, yawning and stretching his arms as if he was the one who was tuckered out. "Aaah... Bored now. You can go." He chuckled, nudging your shoe with his.

".... Oooor you can stay on the floor? If that's what you want?" When he realised just how tired you were, he scoffed, standing over your head and grinning down at you.

"Let's put it this way, if you stay there too long, I might get all worked up and start tickling you again."

"I'M UP! I'm going!" You scramble to your feet with a sudden burst of energy. The thought of another round of tickles made you feel ill. You dashed a few feet out of his range before turning back to see... No-one.

The Tickly Terror was still out there somewhere. He's probably looking his next victim...

---------------------☆ ☆-----------------------

Thank you for reading! 😚❤️

[shuckinbeanz]

Red Spiderlily

warnings/notes: northern duke!au. this is dark, but can be read as dark romance ig. reader is implied to have been sent to their death in exile after being wrongfully? accused(ya'll committed it or not, up to you) of bad bad shit use your imaginations, arranged marriage(not forced, but can be read that way, just know that reader isn’t supposed to outright hate their husband-to-be), dark fairytales, regaining hope, and opening a new chapter in life. this is short af but i love shiggy so I may or may not expand on this because atp i've burnt myself out tryna get in the groove of my other wips :/ i'm probably gonna start a few new series too because i put those ideas on the back burner for a loooong time so yah

New series anyone? Dukes of the North style, BNHA.

~Masterlist~

MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇

There were tales about the North, and the vicious eyeless demon who cursed its Dukedom with its eternal oppression. Hair damaged by winter’s neverending harshness, torn skin shamed by the moon. Harebringer of terror, an ugly creature shroud in darkness, bringing fear with him. But the moment that you, who had been accused of great sin and sent to marry into the Northern Dukedom-a so-called ‘flowery exile’ if you will, a complete mockery-had laid your eyes upon him, the so-called eyeless demon, you had realized he was in fact, no demon without eyes at all.

Silvery-white locks that bring shame to the brightest of stars shimmering on the surface of frozen lakes. Skin, though heavily marred, fairer than winter’s first snowflakes. Crimson hues, dulled and almost lifeless from the burden he was born to carry.

In the moment those hues met yours, you could tangibly imagine them lurid. Bright; full of luster, full of spirit, full of love. They reminded you of-

“Spider Lilies.”

“Pardon?” his rasp makes you jolt, realizing you’ve spoken out loud. Old habits die hard. The sight of his frown, of his browline furrowed in perplexion elicits a soft laugh from you. A small smile.

You were always outspoken, despite your family’s best wishes.

“Your eyes remind me of the red spiderlily. Keeper of death, taker of souls.” you begin, “He who drags his victims to their grave, he who protects their rotting corpses from Hell's hounds…” you trail off, watching his frown deepen in what you assumed to be disdain, though it only lasted a moment, “...posing as a purifying poison dyed by the crimson of blood.” 

His chin lifts and a brow quirks, regal in his glory, telling of his lineage; close yet so very distant Royalty.

“He who guides weary souls with his lurid hue to the cycle of rebirth.” you speak, your words, and the meaning behind them, oddly and darkly…romantic, in a sense.

“The red spiderlily.” you repeat softly.

Because the moment you were cast aside from all you knew, you were all but dragged to what they had hoped to be your damned grave; the North. And here, in a place meant for despair, where you had expected your end in nothingness, you encounter a reminder of a dark fairytale from your childhood that inspired what you thought you no longer had. Hope.

A silent understanding hung in the air, heavy. He lifts his arm, offering his palm, with a soft rustle of his heavy cloak and muted metallic chinks sounding from his armor.

Perhaps you did not fall in love with him at first sight. 

Yet, you knew this; he would not drag you to your grave an unwilling soul like they would in a heartbeat. The Duke-the man in front of you, would stay by your side and defend you to the bitter end. He would be that beautiful crimson hue that would lead you beyond to be born anew.

You swear you can already feel the warmth of the future.

You knock the ice from your bones, reaching for his offered hand without hesitation. He releases a soft huff, and you swear, you could see light in his eyes, only for a brief moment. As he turns, you step by his side, and he leads you to the next cycle of your life.

[mareenavee]

It's WIP Whenever Time Again!

Hi. So Wednesday arrived ridiculously fast, didn't it?

I've been tagged for this by the amazing @saltymaplesyrup, @oblivions-dawn and @thequeenofthewinter! Thanks for reminding me what day it was, I was completely unaware LOL

Tagging the fantastic @paraparadigm, @thana-topsy, @changelingsandothernonsense, @snippetsrus, @wildhexe, @elfinismsarts, @nuwanders, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @throughtrialbyfire, @expended-sleeper, @kookaburra1701, @archangelsunited, @dirty-bosmer, @viss-and-pinegar, @ladytanithia, @polypolymorph, @gilgamish, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2 and YOU -- yes, I know I haven't caught all of you in my tags, but I do wanna hear from you, so feel free to tag me back!

I have been BUSY lately with tons of prompts and some ask answers in prose and so I have a smattering of WIP fragments from different projects. SOME are gonna be sequel and/or spoiler territory for World. I'll mark them! Below the cut! THERE IS A LOT. 845 words or so, total.

1) In the Woods Somewhere - a ghost story told about an alternate version of Valenwood where the Wild Hunt went horribly wrong. 145 words.

They tower over all around them, monsters ever shifting from creature to terror and back again, mindless in their fury. All antler, exposed bone, sharp fangs and strips of rotting flesh held together with vines and thorns. If the pallid light of the bioluminescent fungi hits their talons just right, it might look like ebony daggers. But these? They are far sharper, designed to rend flesh from bone—to leave you as nothing but fertilizer for the soil in which new, gnarled trees might grow. There is no care—only malice, forms twisted by violence and starvation. In the darkness, all you can see is the red of their eyes which never leave you as you wander. They stalk through the night as if all living things are prey—as if all that remain in their realm have been deemed the enemy.

And they do not hunt alone.

2) By The Break of Dawn - A collab with @thequeenofthewinter and, for the art side of things, @thana-topsy (: Spooky, Doomed World sort of chaos. 182 words.

[Lydia] struck in the opening Uldwin had given her. She threw all of her fury behind the one movement she’d have time for. That which gave her the strength to drive her sword through his spine was not Aedric in origin, but she would take it, if it meant ending Uldwin’s suffering. She could almost hear Meridia cackle as the holy fire erupted from Dawnbreaker, enveloping his corpse. The stench of dry, burning flesh seared her nostrils and made her eyes water worse. Tears trailed through the ashes and dirt on her face as that which once had been Uldwin collapsed onto the floor at her feet. She withdrew Dawnbreaker with a sickening crunch which turned her stomach. The icy light where his eyes should have been blinked out. It was just as it had always been when fighting draugr.

Uldwin had been more than a draugr, though. He was her brother, in all ways that mattered. Neloth had taken him from her, and now it was time to pay for his crimes. Lydia would not let him escape her ire again.

3) And I'd Like To Say You're Never on My Mind - a fragment in Athis's POV, and is a SPOILER for World. 135 words.

“But you’d already made your choice long before.”

Amazing how easy it was to weaponize words. These, too, cut him as he spoke. He watched as she struggled and failed to hold back more tears. She could have just said instead of leaving him alone in what had once been their home to pace nervously, imagining the million ways she could’ve died. He felt hollow, but resisted once again the urge to wrap her in his arms. She didn’t need another chance. He’d given too many, and lost too much of himself in the process. 

Nyenna did, at least, have the courtesy to nod. She swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, Athis. I didn’t mean—”

“—you did. You did mean it. Because you always had a choice. And each time you chose anyone else but me.”

4) Untitled Sequel - Teldryn's POV observing his daughter, Eris Sero, after being away from her for three years. Spoilers for World and the Sequel itself. 183 words.

“Ata!” she said with her usual bright smile. Her voice was slightly deeper than the last time he’d seen her, with more of a Winterhold brogue than he’d ever get used to. She regarded him briefly with her one good eye, its vermilion color brought out by the wine red of her mage's robes, then turned her dark eye to him. The grin faltered for a second, and then she reasserted it, shaking her head as if to dislodge a thought. Unnerving, whenever that happened. She dropped her bag there by the railing and rushed to him.

“Hla’sil,” he sighed, and enveloped her in his arms. She’d braided back her white hair, but, just like her mother’s, curls always escaped. He flattened out the shock of black strands that tended to fall into her face and kissed the top of her head. She’d only just turned twenty eight. What was that in human years? Gods, but time didn’t make any sense and passed like the flowing of a river. Ninteen, or there about. Too young for this kind of chaos. She’d always been.

5) Untitled Sequel - Eris's POV on another character, Nammu, technically not an OC. (: Spoilers, major spoilers, for this sequel. 200 words.

The Vision this time didn’t really match the ascetic monk sitting cross-legged before her now, but that didn’t matter much. She knew there was something other about him, even though he pretended to be just another Ashlander wanderer. He had magic, though, and, as Alma would say, the more of that, the better. Ata, she knew, would wholeheartedly disagree. In fact, her mere suggestion of Nammu meeting Ata back at the inn in New Balmora would likely cause problems. She just had a feeling about it, coming from the same place as the memories earlier. Weird.

Nammu stretched as he stood, leaning on a plain wooden staff. Unenchanted. Uncle Neloth would have tutted, calling it a wasted resource, but he was not here now. Nothing on Nammu was actually enchanted at all, come to think of it. Not the plain brown cloak, or the simple linen clothes, nor the dust covered boots. Not even the two lacquered wooden amulets he wore around his neck, one each with the Daedric symbols Ayem and Seht burned into them respectively. Maybe he meant to enchant them eventually. They looked more like mementos, to be perfectly honest, but she was not about to pry.

[alwaysteveswife]

Crazy for you | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader.

a/n: I apologize for my inactivity 🥲 I have no excuse, I've just been procrastinating as much as I can because I'm going back to school soon 🙂.

After days of being terrorized by Vecna, the group of older teens decides to confront him once and for all, even if their lives are in danger.

Warnings: Angst, Y/N being sensitive about her relationship with Steve, insecurity, Steve being half a jerk and preferring Nancy over his girlfriend, narrated in first person.

Words: 2,419

"Okay, so me, Robin and Steve will go attack Vecna while he's with Max, and you three" Nancy points at me, Dustin and Eddie "You'll be the distraction".

"The bait, you mean" I cross my arms, frowning, "Don't you think it's a bad idea? Just look at us! None of us could fight those bats" I sighed, crossing my arms. "We barely made it out of there alive last time".

"Don't worry, it's impossible for things to go wrong, we know how to attack now" Steve took my hand, stroking it to calm me down.

"How can you be so sure of that, are you blind? The three of us can't fight off a flock of killer bats!" I pulled his hand away angrily.

"Y/N..."

"No! Don't try to convince me!" I left the trailer and slammed the door shut, hurrying to the forest, wiping away my tears.

Now a bit away from the others, I sat down on a log and began to cry, letting out everything I had been holding in this past week.

"Y/N" Steve stopped in front of me, looking at me sympathetically. He knelt down and made me lift my face to look at him, "Look, I know these last few days have been hard for you, for everyone, but you have to understand that we don't have a choice".

"re you serious?" I gritted my teeth, holding back the urge to yell at Steve. "Steve, that.... Nancy wants to use us as bait, she wants to see us die, don't you get it? Do you really think music is going to save us? This isn't a stupid musical, and you know it".

He sighed, pulling his hair back.  He took my hands and kissed my forehead. As if that would change my mind.

"Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? Eddie and Dustin will be there with you".

"But I don't want to be with them, I want to be with you" I wiped away the tears, they were coming back. "We're supposed to be a team, Steve. I... I don't like the way things are between us".

He opened his eyes, surprised. I could see the fear in his eyes, he stood up, looking down at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I don't know if I'm capable of going through with this" I looked down at my hands, unable to look him in the face. "I love you, Steve. I love you very much".

"Then why?" I heard his voice break. He was starting to cry.

"Why is that? Oh, I don't know, maybe because you spend all your time with your ex lately, even though you know she has a boyfriend, and to make matters worse, she's flirting with you" I replied in a sarcastic tone, taking away any feelings of sympathy for him.

"Sometimes it seriously amazes me how childish you can be".

In another situation I would have taken the comment as a joke, but not in this one. I stood up, watching as he had begun to frown in anger.

"Childish? Do you really think I'm childish? Do you want me to remind you of what you've done this week with her?" I had started breathing hard, and to make matters worse, my chest hurt like hell itself. "All this week I've been trying to ignore how she hints at you, hints that I know you pick up on!" I pressed my index finger to his chest angrily, "Damn it, Steve, all I asked you to do during this mess was to stay with me" I'd started crying for real, I could swear even the guys could hear me. "This could have been our last night alive, and you preferred to spend it with Nancy".

"She was lonely..."

"I was lonely too! I felt lonely, and stupid, and horrible" this time I clenched my fist, pounding it hard on my chest "I'm your girlfriend! I should be your priority between the two of us, and every time you've preferred her it breaks a part of me" I hit him again, screaming loudly-. I know I'm not as pretty as her, and I'm not as smart, or funny, or anything, but you said you loved me, and I... I believed you" I relaxed my hand, passing it over my head "I believed you..."

"Y/N..." He took my hands again, and for a moment I could have sworn he was shaking. "Listen".

"Don't touch me" I pushed him hard, "Don't talk to me, don't even dare to look at me" I took a breath, pushing past him to get back to the trailer. "If anything happens tomorrow... if this really ends up being our last day, I hope you remember that I warned you, Harrington".

After that fight I could hardly sleep. I stayed outside, watching the night sky, listening to Dustin's light snoring. I could also notice Steve watching me from the doorway, but I preferred to pretend not to notice, I didn't have the courage to face him again, I knew I would fall for his charms.

When it was time to start the plan, everyone had their weapons and suits ready. Eddie and Dustin were serious about the band. We moved to the other side, first was Steve, who helped by putting a mattress on the floor and help.

I refused, I had legs and arms, I could get up from a simple mattress.

"Okay, remember, no one can get out of the plan, okay? "

Steve approached us, he had the spiked bat in his right hand, and was carrying a large bag in his left arm.

"Remember, you're just going to be the distraction, after that you run to the van and go home. No heroics, okay?"

"Easy, Steve, we're not heroes" Eddie smiled, wrapping his arms around Dustin's shoulders and winking at me.

"Hey" He walked over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I thought I made things clear yesterday" I pushed his hand away, nodding my head, "Nancy is calling you, you should go with her, unless you want to ruin her much loved plan" I turned around, grabbing the mic and walking with the guys to set things up.

We had the whole van covered with tights and boards, so we were sure that no flying bats could attack us. The three of us stood on top of it, Eddie plugged in his guitar and my mic, Dustin set up the amps, and the show started.

I could have sworn it was the longest minute of my life. I knew the words by heart, but there were still times when I almost ruined the song out of nerves.

When they were close to us, we jumped out and into the van, ready to jump into the other side. Our plan had everything to be perfect, except for one thing. The fans. Those things would fit through them, and we found out the hard way. Eddie was shooing them away with his spiked shield, I was just pushing Dustin up the rope so he could cross to the other side.

Then, for a second, I noticed how Eddie was determined to stay to fight, and I was determined to stay with him to help him. To defend Steve.

"Sorry, Dustin" I took a knife and cut the sheets, throwing the mattress to the side to keep him from crossing. I looked at Eddie and he nodded. We were ready to do our part. Be the bait.

We ran outside and hopped on a bike, me on the seat and Eddie up. I could tell he was driving with all his might, but it wasn't enough, they were catching up to us. I closed my eyes, knowing it would soon be the end of us, praying that at least there would be no more dead besides the two of us.

When I opened them again, I was floating in the air and crashing to the ground. Eddie had crashed the bike. We both got up to start running, but a few steps beyond where we fell, he turned and raised his spear, ready to strike.

"Eddie, what are you doing!" I shouted in desperation, watching those things approaching faster and faster.

"Stop being a coward!" He struck a fighting pose, ready to fight those beasts.

I tightened my grip on the spear in my hand. I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't abandon him and let Alex lose another important person. I ran to his side, ready for my end.

"We're in this together, Munson".

He smiled at me, nodding. In less than a second, everything around us went black, and a blizzard nearly tripped me. They were flying very hard. We started fighting, punching and burying knives anywhere we could.

We had managed to bring a few down, but there were more of them than us, and they were stronger. In less time than we thought, we both ended up on the ground, being bat food.

I don't think I had ever screamed so much in my life. I could feel them tearing at my skin and eating my body. For a brief moment I could even make out how one of them pulled out a large chunk of meat. I turned to look at Eddie, he was still struggling from the ground, he was doing much better than me.

When I had no more hope of staying alive, the bats fell to the ground like autumn leaves, lifeless. Eddie was a few feet away from me.  He was breathing hard, but he was still laughing, he made it, he survived.

"Y/N, Eddie!" Dustin came limping toward us. He was crying.

"Dustin, we did it!" Eddie got up with Dustin's help, celebrating. "We did it!" He stopped when he saw me on the floor. I knew I couldn't save myself from this one.

"Y/N!" Dustin left Eddie and came over to me as fast as he could. "Holy shit!"

"Does it look that bad?" I tried to smile, but even the thought of it made my whole body ache.

"No! We're going to get you fixed up, we're going to go home, and we'll call a hospital, and you'll be fine" He started to cry even more, caressing my face.

"Dustin, I can't move" I said with difficulty, closing my eyes from exhaustion.

Eddie offered to carry me in his arms, and we stayed in the van, sitting on Eddie's couch. We planned to wait for the others to cross, we couldn't do it alone, not in these conditions.

Dustin and Eddie spent the next few minutes trying to keep me awake and one hundred percent awake. I felt myself losing more and more blood with each passing second. My strength was draining away. I couldn't hold on much longer.

"We won, guys, we won!" Robin came in cheerfully, behind her came the others. They were all happy.

Dustin looked at them, still crying. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, but only sobs came out.

The others looked at each other worriedly, approaching him to ask what happened. I guessed it was so dark they couldn't see all the blood I haved lost.

"Don't cry... Dustin" I realized my voice was barely audible. "You said it... remember? We're going to... go home and... call a hospital".

Dustin turned away, unable to see me. The others remained static, and Eddie just hugged me releasing a couple of tears that fell on my shoulders.

"Why... those faces? We won" I smiled, trying to keep from showing how much it hurt to talk.

"We did it, Y/N, we won" Robin came up to me, crying. She took my hand and looked at Eddie, who just shook his head.

I looked at Steve, who had sat on the floor in front of me, he kissed my forehead and brushed a strand of hair out of my face.

"You did great, honey".

I smiled, closing my eyes. The pain had begun to subside, and my body felt lighter.

"Remember what we talked about in... the trailer?" I started coughing loudly, feeling a thick liquid come out of my mouth. Eddie's grip tightened, as did Dustin's crying.

"The Harrington family?"

"Yes" My breathing began to slow, my eyelids felt heavier, I was sleepy. "About the... six mini Harringtons" I laughed as best I could, imagining what it would be like to have six Steve's running around the house. Robin and Dustin would take care of them.

I heard him let out a sort of laugh combined with a sob. I always loved his laugh, I felt complete when I could make him laugh at a difficult time for him.

"And we would go to California, to a beach" I felt his hand caress my cheek with great care. "The eight of us would watch the sunset, you'd be taking pictures of the scenery, and I'd scold the kids for going too far away".

I nodded, starting to feel a chill run through my body.

"And on the way we would play 'Crazy for you' by Madonna, do you remember the lyrics?"

"Of course I do" he waited a few seconds before he started singing softly, "Swaying room as the music starts..."

"Strangers making the most of the dark..." I used all my strength to open my eyes to look at him. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I really love you, Steve".

He shook his head, still crying.

"I'm sorry, you were right, about everything" He looked at the floor, and I closed my eyes again "Allyson, I..."

And then everything went black. I couldn't hear anything, all the pain I felt before was completely gone. And that's when I realized it was the end of me.

The price to pay for winning the final battle.

Masterlist

[mandareeboo]

If you’re still looking for moon girl Drabble prompts, maybe she gets hurt pushing a member of her family to safety, and they help her after :)?

Adria Lafayette says, "You are never doing this again!" and Lunella's entire body rejects it. Rejects it hard. Rejects it like an organ transplant. Her mind buzzes with half-baked plans, with terror, with that familiar shaking of her hands.

"No."

It slips out. It's not even intentional. It's just so full-bodied, so powerful, it eeks out her chest like blood from a gash. Lunella feels herself straighten, her shoulders square. Battle ready. She's going to fight for this.

Mom's face tightens. She's scared too, Lunella realizes. "Excuse me?"

"No, ma'am," she corrects, even though that's not what she means. Lunella shakes with the force of her refusal- shakes her head, shakes her chest, shakes her hands. Everything's shaky. "I can't stop."

It's not a won't type of situation. Lunella simply didn't think her body would be able to at this point. So much of herself is tied up in Moon Girl- her confidence, her dreams, and even her nightmares- that if she tried to stop it would fundamentally change something inside of her. It's too late. She's too far gone.

"You don't have a choice," Adria reminds her. "I am your mother. You can't just-"

Lunella rocks on her heels. "S.H.I.E.L.D. wants me," she blurts out, and it's true, sure, but interrupting is a great way to get grounded. Lunella feels out of control. "I've been given three seperate recommendations for seperate areas of study they're willing to fund me for. And that's not counting the offers I've gotten to study in Wakanda and Hala."

(She doesn't tell her mom that the Wakanda one is for Lunella- which, unlike S.H.I.E.L.D., will require a permission slip- and that Hala is from Kid Khree, making it less than official. What's one more lie to the list?)

"You can't just threaten me-" Adria starts, stops, and pinches her nose. "So, what? I have to let my baby risk her life or you leave us? How is that right?"

"I don't wanna leave," she says, because she doesn't. Because leaving feels permanent, and Lunella can't stand the thought of one day leaning over a building and watching as her mother celebrates another birthday without her. "But I can't stop."

"Yes, you can," she insists. Adria falls to her knees and grabs her shoulders. Lunella feels her jetpack jostle awkwardly as her mom squeezes. Moon Girl's suit isn't really built for close contact. "Baby, you know why I'm doing this, don't you? This isn't a punishment."

"It feels like a punishment," Lunella replies, but somehow this feels worse than just a grounding. She could live with a grounding.

"It's not, sweetheart. I love you. I'm so proud of you. But I'm not gonna have you risk your life."

Lunella blinks back tears. "What happened to one girl can make a difference?"

"One girl can make a difference. But not like this."

"Lu-" Mimi starts, breaking the silence from the rest of the Lafayettes, and Lunella's hands tighten into fists. It's not fair. Mimi isn't getting grounded. Mimi isn't losing her only way to cope. "Maybe you should-"

"No," she says harshly. "I can't stop, Mimi. I can't."

There's a sudden, strong shrieking of metal. Devil lets out a warning as the last scraps of his metal arms give in, falling out of the holster and towards them.

It's instinct. It's her job. Lunella rockets forward and shoves her mother away. The metal lands solidly behind them, just barely clipping her ankle. She lets out the smallest little yelp.

Adria's gaze hardens. "You see? You see? You should never put yourself in harms way like that! What if you died?"

"What if you died?" Lunella echoes back, frazzled. "This is what I do! This is what I have to do!" She gestures frantically to the ripped metal. "You didn't think to run! I did! That's what I'm good at- thinking of ways out of danger!"

Lunella shudders as she remembers Molecule Man's touch. She just forgave the man who almost killed her. A hurt ankle is nothing. "I can't stop," she whispers, like a broken record. "I can't."

[christmasintheloonybin]

thank you comrade @keuscheliebe for tagging me in this. it reminds me so much of the old days of tumblr, these things are quite fun. anyways,

Last song: Yung Nigga Shit by Glokk40spazz

Favorite color: this is difficult for me, I like natural colors, colors that appear in nature, any, and I don't think I could rank them. colors are interesting in the context of other colors. most of my clothes are black. but I am excited by many colors. every color has a shade that I love.

Last book: this confuses me a bit, as in, the last book I read (in the process of reading) or last book I finished. the last book I finished was The Spirit of Terrorism by Jean Baudrillard, the last book I viewed, read from, was Foundations of Geopolitics by Aleksandr Dugin. horrible horrible translation, there are no good translations as far as I can tell, but interesting ideas.

Last movie: I don't really watch movies I think the last one I watched was It Rains on Our Love dir Ingmar Bergmann. months ago. in September I think. I like his movies but have seen very few because I'm not very interested in movies generally. wait. this is maybe untrue, I've been unemployed for a while so I am getting dates mixed up. when I was in Florida I watched a ton of movies, but I can't remember if I watched the Bergmann movie before or after this, I mean if I watched it in September or more recently. maybe the last movie I watched was Rebel Without A Cause, the first 20 minutes or so and then the power went out because of the hurricane.

Last TV show: Breaking Bad, I will never back down from this it was a great show. I'm really not interested in TV either but Breaking Bad is good.

Sweet/spicy/savory: savory.

Relationship status: this is known...

Last thing I googled: "we'll have fun and get things done when we cooperate" I was singing this song to myself but couldn't remember what it was from. it's a sesame street song lol, but good message. and I like it musically as well.

Current obsession: maybe my financial problems, this is what I mainly think about. there are some broad categories I am always interested in, generally trying to understand what is going on. but obsession to me is specific. knowing a lot about chess or something. currently I have no obsession apart from world events and trying to understand what they mean and why they are happening. what is happening. I follow this pretty closely.

Looking forward to: my friend from Florida visiting me this spring. which is down the line obviously but I think about it every day. apart from that, the vague hope that something exciting will happen. something that will shock my system. this tends to happen to me every once in a while, annually, and it always comes out of nowhere. so I look forward to whatever it will be.

I tag... I'm sorry, but I tag no one because I'm a bit shy 😬🫣 but thank you again for tagging me.