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charmingbrute · 2 years ago

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𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐍.

#CHARMINGBRUTE—that's how these things so often go. you do your bit, only later to fill in the gaps, to piece together the picture in distant hindsight. what will your legacy be tomorrow, and the day after, and in the days after that?

MUN INFORMATION: aries | 20+ | he/him | discord available for mutuals

This is a QUEUE BASED independent roleplay blog for the Warrior of Light (Meteor Survivor) for the setting Final Fantasy XIV and related expansions. While I write him as the poster boy who appears in official drip marketing, I apply some twists of my own in his character. #endwalker spoilers will be tagged! If you’d like for me to tag spoilers for older expansions, please let me know.

I am a private blog. Which means that I will only interact with you if we follow each other. If I don’t follow you back within a week, you’re welcome to unfollow as it means I do not see our writing meshing or you are simply not a roleplay blog.

thread tracker // modern verse compendium permanent starter call // promo // information

— THREAD COUNT: 165 / INBOX COUNT: 94

RULES + OTHER INFORMATION BELOW.

These are just mun preferences that I’d like people to check out in case they have questions for me or with the character I write as. They aren’t rules, but more of a reference to make roleplaying with me easier.

GENERAL

Only use beta editor with me. Please don't make writing any harder.

The Warrior of Light has no official name and only goes by Meteor for convenience's sake.

Open to criticisms and such. The game has a wide lore and I’m not above missing information. I would like to be corrected if there are errors in my portrayal that I do not know of.

I’m all caught up with MAIN SCENARIO quests and SIDE QUESTS, so this profile will not be spoiler free. I’ll do my best to tag nevertheless.

This blog is NSFW. Sexual themes, violence, mental health struggles, psychological horror will be present here to name a few and will not be limited to such.

Have no shipping preference, but of course will not ship with minor writers/characters. I am 20+ and fine with NSFW but only with my fellow adults.

I am multi-ship and multi-verse!

Tracking the tag #CHARMINGBRUTE. Feel free to also mention me via @CHARMINGBRUTE. If you see that I haven’t liked your thing for me within three days, please let me know! I might have missed the notification.

Discord is available upon request. I also manage a Discord server for any players primarily from the North American Data Center, but those outside of it are free to hang out. Let me know if you want in!

Please don’t rush me to do replies.

Just let me know if you want to interact with Meteor.

Please don’t hesitate to shorten your reply to me whenever. I don’t care about matching lengths, but I do try to match my partner as best as I can.

All ask responses are welcome to be continued!

BLOG

I am using the beta editor.

I am very accepting of other Original and Multi Characters. My only limit is real life people such as celebrities, politicians, youtubers, etc.

I like aesthetic and GPOSE blogs, but I am a roleplay blog and therefore would only really follow other roleplay blogs. I prefer it if you have a proper tagging system in place as well.

I’d appreciate it if you won’t steal any writing I do on this blog.

When writing with fellow masc presenting characters, I usually refer to my partner character as THEY/THEM. This is to avoid confusion and not at all an attempt to misgender your muse. If this bothers you, please inform me!

Icons or pretty graphics are not required to interact with me.

Will probably remain dash only.

Any inbox responses are welcome to be turned into a thread. No need to ask me for permission.

CHARACTER

I only write Meteor within the Final Fantasy verse. Doesn’t matter if it’s from other titles within the series. I’d love to interact!

If you notice the lack of about page, that's very deliberate as I prefer people to find out things about my character through interactions. If this displeases you, you're always welcome to ask me about specific information and I'll answer as best as I can!

I could give writing him with other fandoms a shot provided I’m familiar with the source material or you’d be willing to inform me about it. Some fandoms I know: Dislyte, Genshin Impact, Drakengard and Nier Series, Other Final Fantasy Games, Fate Series, Persona Series, Resident Evil etc.

Will write Meteor at any given point of MSQ. If undetermined, I will default to ENDWALKER!METEOR. I can also write for him as an NPC if you prefer!

Pre-established relationships as WOL will not be altered or reset.

The muse as WOL is canonically a powerhouse. This isn’t me god-modding in any way, but know that you initiate any combat interactions of the sort, he won’t fall down easily.

When interacting with other WOLs, I'm fine with Meteor being a Scion Companion as I have a verse for it! He doesn't have to be the Warrior of Light all the time. In fact, I prefer it if he's not so I can write something else for a change.

I also write as AZEM (ARES)! So if you wish to interact with him, simply mention that you want him specifically. When engaging with other Azems, I default to him just being some guy.

All kinds of relationships are welcome in this blog.

#( pinned. )

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themetest030523 · 2 years ago

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𝐆𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐍.

MUN INFORMATION: aries | 20+ | he/him | discord available for mutuals

This is an independent roleplay blog for the Warrior of Light (Meteor Survivor) for the setting Final Fantasy XIV and related expansions. While I write him as the poster boy who appears in official drip marketing, I apply some twists of my own in his character. #endwalker spoilers will be tagged! If you’d like for me to tag spoilers for older expansions, please let me know. I am a private blog. Which means that I will only interact with you if we follow each other. If I don’t follow you back within a week, you’re welcome to unfollow as it means I do not see our writing meshing or you are simply not a roleplay blog.

thread tracker // modern verse compendium // permanent starter call

— THREAD COUNT: 105

RULES + OTHER INFORMATION BELOW.

MUN INFORMATION: aries | 20+ | he/him | discord available for mutuals

GENERAL

Only use beta editor with me. Please don't make writing any harder.

The Warrior of Light has no official name and only goes by Meteor for convenience's sake.

Open to criticisms and such. The game has a wide lore and I’m not above missing information. I would like to be corrected if there are errors in my portrayal that I do not know of.

I’m all caught up with MAIN SCENARIO quests and SIDE QUESTS, so this profile will not be spoiler free. I’ll do my best to tag nevertheless.

This blog is NSFW. Sexual themes, violence, mental health struggles, psychological horror will be present here to name a few and will not be limited to such.

Have no shipping preference, but of course will not ship with minor writers/characters. I am 20+ and fine with NSFW but only with my fellow adults.

I am multi-ship and multi-verse!

Please don’t rush me to do replies.

Just let me know if you want to interact with Meteor.

Please don’t hesitate to shorten your reply to me whenever. I don’t care about matching lengths, but I do try to match my partner as best as I can.

All ask responses are welcome to be continued!

BLOG

I am using the beta editor.

I am very accepting of other Original and Multi Characters. My only limit is real life people such as celebrities, politicians, youtubers, etc.

I like aesthetic and GPOSE blogs, but I am a roleplay blog and therefore would only really follow other roleplay blogs. I prefer it if you have a proper tagging system in place as well.

I’d appreciate it if you won’t steal any writing I do on this blog.

Icons or pretty graphics are not required to interact with me.

Will probably remain dash only.

Any inbox responses are welcome to be turned into a thread. No need to ask me for permission.

CHARACTER

I only write Meteor within the Final Fantasy verse. Doesn’t matter if it’s from other titles within the series. I’d love to interact!

Will write Meteor at any given point of MSQ. If undetermined, I will default to ENDWALKER!METEOR. I can also write for him as an NPC if you prefer!

Pre-established relationships as WOL will not be altered or reset.

The muse as WOL is canonically a powerhouse. This isn’t me god-modding in any way, but know that you initiate any combat interactions of the sort, he won’t fall down easily.

All kinds of relationships are welcome in this blog.

0 notes

a-jynx · 3 years ago

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Dream; - usually really aware when you guys plan date nights! Even with his busy schedule, he’s on top of remembering important nights - he doesn’t want you to feel neglected or forgotten :’) - however he can get forgetful when he’s playing with Sap and George, or streaming, but when he does oh, he feels devastated and will definitely become clingy

[Short imagine]

12:30 PM - he’d forgotten. You sighed, closing your phone and slouching into the couch, listening to your boyfriend’s laughs echo throughout your shared home; Sapnap’s screams filtering through as well.

Frowning, you turned on the living room TV and turned on Netflix, deciding that a movie would take away from the small sting in your gut. You knew he hadn’t meant to get sucked up into his work, and this one time of a few that he’d forgotten, but that doesn’t stop the sadness twisting in your gut. Turning on the Twilight series, and obviously horrible but entertaining favorite [team Jacob anyone?] before grabbing your warmed-up Panda Express and engrossing yourself into the world of vampires and werewolves.

2:45 AM

Dream groaned as his screen flashed a dull red, congratulating George and Sap about their win from their Minecraft Manhunt; 2 hunters. Glancing at the time, he rubbed at his face and clicked out of everything, ending his video. Stretching he leaned back and glanced towards the bed, expecting you to already be cuddled up and passed out, but the comfy queen was empty…

Furrowing his brows, he scooted his chair back and left his room, moving downstairs as Sap came out of his room, still grinning.

“Hey man, nice hunt, though I’m surprised you made it go for so long,” Sap groaned as he joined Dream on the stairwell making the dirty blonde frown.

“What’re you talking about? Manhunts always go for a couple of hours?” Dream snorted as Sap frowned, only to sigh and pat his friend on the shoulder.

“Dude… You had date night tonight..?”

Dream’s eyes widened as he rushed further downstairs, turning into the living room and frowning at the sight. You curled up into the corner, an empty container on the coffee table and the credits rolling of The Twilight Saga; new moon. Squatting down next to you, he gently cradled your cheek as you hummed in sleep, cracking open your eyes as you broke into a smile, your eyes settling on your frowning boyfriend.

“Hiya handsome,”

“Hi, baby… Fuck, I’m so sorry I forgot,” Dream leaned into you, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, nose, chin, lips - anywhere his lips could reach as you chuckled, raising your hand and threading it through his hair. “I just got so lost in the video, but that’s no excuse I promise I’ll make it up to you-”

“Dream, babe it’s okay, this is like… The first time you’ve forgotten, just don’t make it a full-time thing, yeah?” You laughed as Dream dove into you, circling your waist with his arms and picking you up, causing you to yell out.

“Clay!”

“We’re going to bed, and I’m not letting you go until I see fit,” Dream stated, carrying you upstairs as you glanced to Sapnap, waving to him before you and your still disappointed boyfriend disappeared into his room.

Sapnap - he’s definitely more forgetful than Dream, but he tries okay? - a lot more clingy when he realizes what he did, definitely becomes more of a hopeless romantic

[Short imagine]

“Shouldn’t you be gone by now?” You turned away from the fridge, seeing Dream entering from the living room as you shrugged, closing it with a sigh.

“Yeah, we should’ve left half an hour ago but he joined Karl’s stream… Again.” You mumbled the last bit as Dream frowned, leaning against the cabinets as you messed with the strings of your boyfriends’ basketball shorts.

“Aren’t you gonna say something?”

“Honestly? Probably not, I mean we’ve already had a talk about if he forgets-” you paused when a sudden crash came from upstairs, causing you and Dream to turn towards the stairs as Sap came barreling down. You blinked as he stood in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tucking his face into the crook of your neck, making you giggle.

“Hi, bubs,”

“I’msorryimsorryimsorryimsorryimhorribleicantbelieveiforgotimsosososorry-” Sap mumbled into your skin, as you reached up, ruffling his hair as he pressed kisses along your neck, going along your shoulder before trailing back up and pressing his lips against your chin before settling back between your shoulder and throat.

Dream snickered from next to you guys as he dug into the fridge, digging out some pizza from lunch as Sap looked up and glared at his friend. “So, what reminded you?” The dirty blonde hummed, getting ready for his dinner as your brunette boyfriend scoffed.

“I obviously reminded myself! I’m not that-” he paused as a chime came from his shorts’ pocket causing him to cringe. Furrowing your brows, you reached in and tugged out his phone, breaking into a smile as you realized it was an alarm.

‘ Date Night Idiot!’ had been going off for an hour, you assuming Sap had snoozed it, not realizing why his alarm was going off.

“Dumb.. Okay! I had to set a few reminders,” Sap mumbled, pressing more kisses to your warmed skin, trying to hide away from his embarrassment. You closed his phone and slipped it back into his pocket before grabbing his hand and tugging him upstairs with you, his head hung low as you went into his room, besides a small light from his screen. You jumped onto his bed, opening your arms as Sap shot you a small grin and dove into you, cuddling into your chest and pressing more kisses to your free skin, his hand sneaking up your shirt just resting against your skin, rubbing his thumb across your navel while smiling into your kiss.

“I know I’m extremely forgetful when it comes to romantic stuff, but please always know that I love you even if I have a shitty way of showing it,” he mumbled against your lips, moving his hand from your stomach to your face, holding your cheek as you stared at each other. Sure, you could be upset at him, you could ignore him, maybe argue… But why miss out on warm cuddles and make-up kisses?

Karl - he’s the one who usually makes the dates up! He always tries to make sure his streams and recording don’t overlap the days you agreed on - but who says you always remember?

[Short imagine]

It was the long-awaited shock & facecam stream! You had promised to follow in your friend’s - George, Sap, and Dream’s - steps in a shock stream and even threw in a facecam if your followers had gotten one of your posts to hit one million likes, and your fans did not disappoint! Your tweet promising this stream had hit two million likes, 10,506 retweets, and continuous replies. So, here you were, setting up for your stream when Karl walked in…

“Sweetness..? What’re you, uh, what’re you doing..?” He nervously giggled as he stood beside you, his hands nervously tugging on your hoodie as you turned towards him, frowning.

“I’m getting ready for the shock stream? Remember? I planned this a couple months ago and we agreed on today?” You blinked at your boyfriend. You both had talked about this stream since you arranged the day - why is it suddenly a problem?

“Oh, well, remember we agreed that today - tonight - was going to be date night? We were gonna watch some of the new season of Survivor?” Karl hummed as you blinked, turning fully towards him with your eyes wide as you glanced towards your starting soon screen. You could feel your heart plummet into your stomach - you had done the one thing you and Karl agreed to never do, yet here you were..

“Baby, oh my god, I’m- holy shit, I’m so sorry,” you murmured, rubbing your face as Karl shot you a small grin, scooting closer and musing your hair as you leaned into his touch, cradling your own face with dread coursing through you.

“Bubs, it’s okay, I know you’ve been planning this, and I should’ve thought ahead-”

“No!” You burst, gripping his wrist and pressing light kisses to it before groaning against his skin. “No, it’s not okay, we always try and plan for us to have date nights between our busy schedules and it’s such an asshole thing for me to not double-check that it was-” Karl leaned down, quieting you with pressing his lips to yours. You melted into it as he turned your chair to face him more, causing him to grip your hands tightly in his before pulling away.

“It’s okay because I want you to go through with this stream! You’ve been excited about it and I know the guys are wanting to join, besides-” he paused, pressing butterfly-like kisses to your hands as you grinned at your boyfriend.

“Date night can be any night for us,”

“So, what I’m hearing is you love me more than Survivor?” You giggled as Karl furrowed his brows and scoffed, dropping your hands dramatically before pulling his gaming chair next to yours as you began to set up your facecams’ final touches.

“I love you, like a lot, but know your boundaries, Bubs,” Karl scoffed as you rolled your eyes, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and clicking through your screens before popping up on your stream with a ‘Hey guys!’

~~~

helloooo~ long time no writing and im so sorry about that - life has gotten a little crazy and I sort of lost motivation to write a lot again. i hope these headcanons and my future idea for some can hold you over until I have some sort of - lack of better word - motivation :'D

until tomorrow, i hope you have a beautiful day ~ J

#dream smp x reader #dream smp hc #dreamwastaken x reader #sapnap x reader #karl jacobs x reader #dsmp x reader #dreamwastaken hcs #sapnap hcs #karl jacobs hcs #mcyt hc #mcyt x reader

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celinchen-uwu · 4 years ago

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The Darkling x Reader

A/N: Aaand another Darkling scenario. Please enjoy :)

Summary: Imagine... you are a sassy girl who was captured by some Grishas and taken to the General. You unleash feelings in him..

You‘re walking on a field of flowers next to a little brook. Your (l/h) flowing in the wind. To others, you look like a wood elf. But in your village you are an outsider.

Not less because of your cheeky mouth... But you simply do not care. You stand up for yourself, no matter what others think of you. Long walks, while the sun warms up your skin, you like best alone anyway. You need your peace and would give anything to keep it. Even if that means being excluded.

You sit down by the stream and watch the little tadpoles, which try to swim against the current.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice the small group of Grisha approaching you. You are torn from your thoughts when you are roughly grabbed by the arms. Startled, you look at the two ‚gentlemen’ who have disturbed your peace.

"Hey, let go of me right now! I didn't do anything, so let go you jerks!" You try to kick them and break free, but despite your attempts to get free, they hold you ironclad and pull you towards the forest.

"Come on guys, I'm on your side," you try again. "Where are you taking me? I haven't done anything" After about ten minutes, you've had enough.

"Am I speaking Chinese? Where are you fucking taking me?" irritated, as you finally want to go home, you look at them emphatically. "Just shut up“ one replies annoyed. "Pardon? What nice first words", you say sarcastic, eyes rolling.

Completely confused when you arrive at the camp you ask one last time „Come on guys, i‘m not a Fjerdan or whatever, so you can let me go already...?“

When you enter a tent you do not resist. At first amazed at the size and the magnificent war table lying around. You almost overlook the tall man dressed in black. Almost.

"General Kirigan! We found this girl nearby some village, which has been attacked by rebells“, he says humbly and let go of you. You have no idea what is happening here, all you see is this 'general' looking now at you arrogantly from above. "What? Do you need a photo or what?", you drive at him. -hah, I guess you don't look so dumb anymore!- you think to yourself defiantly as his arrogant look replaces itself with an irritated one. -okay, that look isn't much better.. oops-

The grisha-guy leaves the tent, as the general startet to talk. „Tell me... why were you near the village, as it was burned down? What are you? A fjerdan? A rebell? Why are you the only survivor?“ as he spoke, you hear his voice. Sharp like a blade.

Stunned, you look at him... "Are you kidding me? Do I look like a rebell?"

You straighten up, ready to go, you start walking as the general grabs you by the wrist. You squeal in surprise and look him straight in his black eyes.

It becomes dark around you. His eyes sparkle angrily. In a low voice, he asks you again "What are you?"

"A human being?" you answer sarcastic. Fascinated, you look into his black eyes. The shadows creep across the walls, swallowing any light, but you don't notice it at that moment. You are to drawn in, in his eyes at that moment.

As your faces come closer and closer, and the tips of your noses almost touch, you awaken from your rigidity and jerk back. Overwhelmed and flustered you look at him and turn around. Taking flight, you run out of the tent and dodge a few soldiers. Heart pounding, you reach the forest. All you hear is "Don't let her get away!" as you run deeper into the forest.

You admit you were curious about what would happen if your lips touched. How far it would have gone. You didn't miss the dark and dangerous atmosphere. His looks. As if you were his prey.

~When General Kirigan saw you running away, he felt something he thought he had lost years ago.... he would no longer be able to hold on if he couldn't have you.

-Run as fast as you can. When I see you again... feel you again... you’ll be mine. Little elf- ~

Rushed, you run on, shuddering at what would happen if you stopped. -I don't want to give up my freedom... if he finds me, this is truly my end-

#shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #grishaverse #freedom #oneshot #scenario #imagine

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kino-alternative · 4 years ago

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“ This will be a long one! Also, trying angst, so uhh . . Don't be surprised if it's bad! ” ( Inspired by: The Story Of Evil )

❢◥ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◆ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◤❢

“ The Servant ”

Keywords: Y/N- Your Name, T/N- Twin's Name ( Your twin is a girl )

Notes:

This is a Nagito Komaeda X Reader.

This will obvious have SPOILERS for the game. Specifically, the whole Danganronpa: Goodbye Despair game.

Reader's Gender-Neutral. Also suggest listening to “ Daughter of Evil ” “ Servant of Evil ” and “ No Regrets ”.

0: 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 -

Y/N L/N was a part of the Future Foundation, 14th division. While their twin sister, T/N who was the Ultimate Queen ( Originally Princess but a certain blonde already took the title ), was a Remnant of Despair along with the rest of their class.

It pained the twin to see their other being controlled by the strawberry blonde fashionista. Especially since they had to capture her themselves.

After running the program, Y/N decided to enter as a secret agent of the Future Foundation to help the two others when needed. It hurts knowing the truth but they were glad to see everyone before the tragedy struck.

Their dear twin sister was indeed a troublemaker and others even say she's ‘ evil ’ due to her cruel and awful personality, but of course as - not only her twin - her loyal servant ever since they were reunited, Y/N stood by the girl's side.

There was also another that they treasure, Nagito Komaeda,The Ultimate Lucky Student. Yes, even knowing how he is, he managed to make them fall for him. It was interesting really, since T/N isn't really fond of him ( Most of them don't ). But their was something about him that made them feel . . . Loved. Not platonically.

Y/N and their friends, their fellow survivors of the first killing game, had thought everything would go smoothly.

Sadly, that was not the case. That's the reason why I said ‘ first ’ after all. Y/N had failed to protect the Ex-Remnants of Despair from Monokuma's sick game. They could only think of him being the reason the virus entered in the first place.

Three trials. Three blackeneds. Four victims. It was awful. They hated the fact they had to go through another killing game. Now here they are, starving in two fruit-based buildings. Unfortunately, that was not the only motive the despair loving bear had planned.

1: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫.

“ Upuhuhuhu! That's right! T/N is an agent working for me! ” Monokuma announced to the eleven remaining students. Everyone's eyes widen as they all looked at the said girl with shock and anger.

She took a step back, almost stepping on the skirt of her dress as she clicked her tongue and gritted her teeth. “ Seriously!? You peasants believe him!? ” She asked with a glare.

“ How can we not? You're basically . . Evil! ” Kazuichi exclaimed, hiding behind Mechamaru to avoid the girl's glare. Everyone agreed with what he said. T/N was definitely cruel and awful, how did she managed to get her Ultimate anyway?

“ Silence! You shall not call them ‘ peasants ’! ” Sonia ordered with a stern look on her pretty face. The young queen scoffed, crossed her arms and looked away “ Isn't that what we call others below us, your highness? ”

“ I mean, as despairing as it sounds . . Monokuma hasn't lied to us ” Nagito pointed out, to which T/N replied - “ Hush, you hope obsessed freak! ”

But it seems like everyone seemed to believe it's true.

“ You asked for me, your majesty? ” Y/N entered the deluxe room of Grape House. There, at the desk, was their twin who's eyes were shining with anger. “ That damned bear . . Those peasants . . ” She began to curse under her breath as she stabbed a certain area on the map.

“ I will make him pay for ratting me out ”

The elder twin sighed and walked up to her, placing a blanket they grabbed from the bed over her shoulders. “ It is getting late, you should rest. Some sleep should give you energy for now ”

T/N whined but listened nonetheless. As soon as the girl plopped onto bed, she was out like a candle light. Y/N smiled softly and kissed her forehead, bidding her goodnight before leaving the room.

“ That devil shall not live to see the light of day . Not after she poisoned us with her thorns ”

“ A body has been discovered! ”

Two. Two victims. One was a destroyed robot and the other was a stabbed with gunshots H/C girl. That's right. The victims were Mechamaru Nidai and T/N L/N.

2.1: 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞.

Nagito knew something was off.

The moment he saw his hope, Y/N, he knew that they were hiding something. And that something was indeed shocking. “ Ah, I apologise for not introducing myself earlier . . I'm Y/N L/N, the Ultimate Servant ”

That was a lie.

After completing the final dead room, he got his prize. It was files about them. Not only did he found out that Hajime was talentless and was a reserve course student, but his dear hope, his true love of his life, Y/N was not only talentless, but an agent of the Future Foundation.

He was upset but understood Y/N's reason. But for some reason . . He can't help but feel like he missed something.

2.2: 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭.

After the trial . .

“ That's right! The blackened who killed T/N L/N and destroyed Mechamaru Nidai isss . . . Gundham Tanaka, the Ultimate Breeder! AHAHAHA! ” Monokuma cackled as everyone looked at the breeder, who seemed to be prepared for the up-coming punishment.

Despair was painted on everyone's faces, a few tried to hide it. But one let out the pain that was weighing their down, slamming their hands on their podium which surprised them.

Tears streamed down their face as they asked, “ Why did you choose to murder her!? Why in the brutal way!? ” Their voice cracked from the sobs that came after the question. They knew that the H/C haired servant would be upset, but it was shocking to see them break down so . . Easily.

But . . Come to think of it . . They weren't acting like themselves. They usually back Hajime up with no hesitation but during the trial, they kept their mouth shut. Like they're scared to say something wrong or spill information.

Gundham replied while looking away, “ Mechamaru did not deserve death . . But that daughter who's lord is a devil did. She was a demon and lived in the depths of darkness ” ‘ Y/N ’ 's eyes widen those words, their grip tightening.

“ That's right . . I deserved to die ” Everyone looked at them with confusion as they straighten their posture “ It's my fault they died . . ” Placing a hand on her chest, she exclaimed “ So pin the blame on me! ”

Then it finally hit. This wasn't Y/N . . This was T/N. If that's the case then . .

Nagito lowered his head and whispered, “ Y/N's gone . . ”

Knock Knock ** Click.

“ Y/N, you're here! Good news, I have an idea on how to prevent . . Huh? ” T/N turned around to see her twin that was wearing her clothes and their hair down like hairs. They looked identical to her. “ Why are you . . ? ”

They only smiled and gave her their clothes, a letter was placed on top of it. “ I actually have a plan of my own, dear sister ” T/N's eyes widen in sudden realization, “ You don't mean . . I will not allow it! Besides, that damned bear would know! ” She exclaimed, her eyes glistening.

Y/N shook their head and placed the clothes on the bed. After that, they put their hands on her shoulders with a firm yet gentle grip. “ I already took care of that issue ” “ But- ” “ Listen now my dear, you and I will switch and you will be me. It is fine, we're twins and I'll be here to take the strike ”

They wiped away her tears with their thumbs and kissed her forehead, “ They won't know because we look alike ” Y/N stood on the original position their twin was in as T/N hesitantly switched clothes. “ B-But what about Nagito!? Surely, he'll miss you! A-And I'm the devil here! I'm the demon! Not you! ”

Their smile saddens, “ . . . ” They knew how the pale luckster likes to pin the blame on his luck and himself. But they already wrote to him in advance. They hoped it would help him in some way. Y/N truly love the luckster just as much as they love their twin sister. But they live to serve their sister, even if it kills them. Even after knowing everything the other's don't.

Dodging the first question, they replied with closed eyes “ If the devil's your lord as they all curse your name . . Then I am a demon too, for we have the same blood ” As soon as T/N finished dressing, they pulled her outside and ordered “ Now go, don't look back and be free ”

The twin sister hesitates before turning away and acted like they had a normal conversation, holding back the tears as the cameras assumed she was the other. Y/N watched her leave before closing the door, leaving it unlocked and sat on the chair while watching the fire on the candle dance.

“ If the day comes that we are reborn once again, it'll be nice to play with you ” They could hear the footsteps “ I'm sorry for leaving you Nagito . . But until then . . ”

* Creak!

Glaring at the breeder, they asked ( sounding like their twin ) “ How dare you, you pest!? ”

Watching the execution was painful, like always. T/N handed the letter to Nagito before leaving the trial room “ . . They wanted you to have this ”

3: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫.

“ My Dearest Nagito,

I am guessing that T/N gave you this after revealing the truth, correct? But, that is not the point.

I know what you're thinking.

You're blaming yourself again, are you not? You blame your luck. You regret letting me get close to you.

But you shouldn't.

Yes, I have broken our promise. And I truly am sorry but I will never regret getting close to you. I'm sorry for leaving you behind so early.

And I know you may think you have nothing to live for but please, live and fight the despair.

That's what you tell me, right?

A daily reminder that you are not useless nor worthless, you are more than that. You're more than just a stepping stone. Don't be afraid to acknowledge that, even if you don't believe it.

Can you do me a favor? If it's alright.

End this killing game for me. I know you know about the files but that's the past. The future is still out there, right? So please, live and end this killing game with the others.

It seems like I'm running out of ink, so let me say this one last time, alright?

I truly and deeply love you, Nagito Komaeda. Please do remember that. Even after what you did, I can not help but love you. So, if the day comes where we are reborn, I'll gladly fall for you all over again.

I'll die with only one regret. And that is, I wasn't able to protect you.

- Signed, Y/N L/N <3 ”

4: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡.

“ Please, wake up ”

Y/N slowly opened their eyes, trying to figure out where they were and what was going on. But as soon as they sat up, they were pulled into a hug. “ Y/N! You're awake! ” “ T/N . . ? What . . ? ” Their gaze then landed on Nagito who stood beside Hajime.

Then it snapped, they hugged back and smiled “ So you did it . . I'm so glad ” They whispered as T/N pulled away and Nagito walked up to them. Tears finally streamed down his cheeks as he held both of their hands and leaned his forehead on theirs. “ You're here . . ”

Y/N kissed his nose, “ Everything's alright, I'm here, you're here, we're here. Safe and sound ”

Everything turned out to be great in the end. T/N slowly warmed up to everyone. They're working with the Future Foundation on Jabberwock Island. And all is good.

Arms wrapped around their waste as the luckster placed his chin on their shoulder, playing with the ring on their finger. With a content sigh, he says “ I love you ”

Yes, everything has it's flaws but nonetheless it was perfect to them.

❢◥ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◆ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ◤❢

“ I hope you all enjoyed it! Angst isn't really my strong suit but hey, I'll get better at it! ( I was originally going to put a bad ending, but I'll make that someday ) ”

- Sincerely, Mizuki Kioku.

#nagito x reader #danganronpa x reader #dr nagito #nagito #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #sdr2 goodbye despair #nagito imagines #inspired by: story of evil #queen of despair servant of hope #twins

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celticcrossanon · 3 years ago

Note

I’m so sorry for the rant. I just needed to clear my head and got compelled to do it in your inbox. 🙇🏾‍♀️

Not a question just some thoughts. Sorry I’m spamming you so much. I just read your latest reading about the wanna be“tour” and all I can do is SMH. I think to some extent we saw this coming but they are dialing it up and expanding. Conscious humans would’ve called it quits by now. The Remembrance Day pap walk, Going to elementary schools, “donations”, writing letters like they are world leaders, etc. On one hand I can’t see this becoming much of a “thing”. I don’t think MM and Jarry will go on doing this for long unless they can get some Hollywood to pay attention and acknowledge them. I think another reason with the more public European Royals work so well in their media is because their countries are relatively small, like California and Texas are on the large side in comparison, am I right? So much can happen on one side of the country that I only hear of thanks to friends back in California. I can’t see these two visiting any farm in Montana as “royals” if ever. They got a Clinton and Perhaps more big names and “engagement” is to come (oh god 🤦🏾‍♀️) I’m sure they and the sugars are just loving it but it all looks, sounds and feels so incrediblly STUPID & ABSOLUTELY VAPID AND INSULTING. etc etc. I cannot stand entitled people and the fact that these two cut off, trashed, and demand from their own families for a fleeting moment in the spotlight is unfathomable. That’s a testimony to how strong narcissistic delusions can be. It must be the best high I could ever ask for. 🖤Im new to “Royal Watching” if you can call what I do ‘that’, so I don’t really care about all the other indiscretions. I don’t trust the media and I think it’s just the BRF turn in the hot sun to catch hell. See Andrew, see the Clintons and all the others. Whatever drama is going on with Charles, see the rest of big business. I’m a narcissistic abuse survivor and I still study on the disorder. Now here I am watching these two who make my skin craw, this train needs to SPEED UP . I think I’m just looking for a bit of JUSTICE in the world right now. Between this administration, COVID, my job and all my other drama (I’m sure we all have some, if not BLESS YOU and pass it on 🥺) I’m flabbergasted and a little sick in my stomach at watching yet another set of people be able to walk through life seemingly so unbothered. It’s like the world is closing in and I’m suffocating. 🖤Like, your telling me that just because he was born a Prince and she married him and found a way to have children they get to get away with all of this?. The entitlement, the lies, the forced Wokery, using heavy and important subjects like mental health and racism for a PR boost all just to get a⭐️ on the Hollywood walk of Fame? For a couple of royals they sure know how to dump cold water on ya, they are the epitome of LIFE ISNT FAIR. And I’m sure that all depends on perspective, for example; their sugars who must be going diabetic RN. THEY think they have suffered as well. Look at the Cambridge’s who have not put a foot out of place yet have to deal with these tantrums from all over their family. All families have drama and I can see how the Harkles and the rest could be a payback of the Firm and family as a whole. The Queen covered so much and never really saw that Henry and Andrew and god knows who else were set straight. Look what having so much privilege can do. But is there a limit, anywhere?🖤

🖤Anyways, another thought I had was, this could be the end for any thought of reunion. This Narcissist has worked her magic and this clueless tone deaf fool has really gone and done it. I was driving and I thought of Prince William and the entire remaining Windsors & Mountbatten Windsor’s and the whole Aristocracy cutting the Harkles off entirely because the BRF called a wrap (or had to) and the UK became a Republic after Her Majesty. MM get the privlage in her narcissistic head that she’s the last ever to become a Duchess, Cathrine wouldn’t become the Princess of Wales and it all came down in part because of her and Henry’s actions. Yes Andrew and whoever else aren’t helping but these two made it exceptionally difficult. I think they would take pride in that especially publicly but only when they are praised for it. I think the Cambridge’s would have an easier time with moving on with their family, free to live as they please with no pressure to serve the public. Cathrine can be “lazy”, sleep in, & raise her kids and Wills is free to🖕 the paps who would surely still follow them. A La “where are they now”. The two that would have it the worse are the Harkles as they last bit of what they had to separate them from the rest of Hollywood is gone, no more Royal sheen but they don’t have much now. It would be stupid to use the titles after an abolished monarchy but they’d do it and expose themselves further.🖤 If you made it this far, one last thing. I got cut off while driving. That’s not unusual in this Miami traffic and usually i ignore it but with my mental state I couldn’t help but to compare. it was a packed road and I just really wanted to know where the heck the fire was. Why did this person need to rush so much on a busy road that no one else mattered even though we all have somewhere to go? That’s how I feel about the Harkles. What’s the point, where are they going? They went to New England for Christ sake to play faux royalty, in more trashy outfits might I add. 🤦🏾‍♀️

I guess I do have a question, DOES THE WORLD REALLY BELONG TO THOSE WHO JUST Get UP AND TAKE IT?

Thanks for humoring me and providing this space. ✌🏾

Note: My apologies for this very long post, everyone. I can't put a page break in and the writer needs to let it all out. I am sure a lot of you will be feeling somewhat similar to them.

Reply under the cut, so this is not any longer

Hi april14vc,

You are welcome to rant here.

It sounds like you have a lot going on at the moment and it is all becoming a bit much to handle, as there is no relief anywhere. Is there something fun and relaxing that you can do for you sometime today, just to have a break from it all? I feel like you need to tune out for a bit and do something that is just for you.

I am so sorry that you suffered from narcissistic abuse, and so glad that you survived this. I think the Harkle shenanigans must hurt you in a more personal way than those of us who have never suffered under a narcissist. It is very hard to watch the Harkles seemingly get away with all their entitled abuse without any form of justice coming for them.

I think the Harkles are suffering. They usually are unable to get any sort of attention from the media unless they pay for it, and even then they don't trend - it is a 'blink and you miss it' situation. Look at what happened with Meghan's 40 for 40 program - it was dead in the water before the day was over, and she spent a fortune on PR for that. Compare that to the natural (not paid for) hype that surrounds anything that the BRF does, especially the Cambridges or HMTQ. That hype and attention is what Meghan wants, and she is not getting it.

What the Harkles are getting, and what they hate, is mockery. Look at the response to their Times 100 cover. Look at the comments on this pseudo-royal tour. They are a walking joke, and no narcissist would like that. They tried to cull all negative press while they were members of the BRF, were unsuccessful in stemming all of it, and now have no clout at all to stop any negative media attention. The Harkles may live in a delusion of success, but to the vast majority of people they are no more than very risible z-list celebrities.

The Harkles also have serious money troubles. They may be ignoring them, but those debts will have to be paid, one way or another.

What we are seeing now is the slow slide of the Harkles into obscurity, and their desperate attempts to reverse the process, which never work. They are no more popular and wanted now than they were at the time of Megxit, and in fact their popularity has declined since those days. They may look like they are winning, but it is all an illusion, caused by the amounts of money they are prepared to pay to give the illusion of wealth and star-quality celebrity. The paid for events happen, and then nothing. The paid for PR happens, and then nothing. Their slide downwards continues, and nothing that they do is reversing it.

Yes, at the moment they are on a high and beaming put of every report on their activities. Wait a week and then see where they are. This is like the Oprah interview all over again.

My next reading is going to be on the consequences of this pseudo-royal tour for the Harkles, so maybe there will be some justice for you there.

Edited to add: As for taking down the monarchy, I can't see that happening. For starters, the British government would have to put the matter to the people for a vote, and even if they are insane enough to do that, I can't see the British public voting to remove a beloved Queen because of the antics of two people who are despised that that country. The logistics of replacing the monarchy are also staggering - you have to rework the entire government of not just Great Britain, but of all the commonwealth realms who have HMTQ as Head of State, and that is not an easy task or a light undertaking. In addition, those Commonwealth Realms can keep HM as their head of state even if she is ejected by the British people (which would never happen, but I am stretching the bounds of probability here). After HMTQ comes Charles, who will have a short reign simply because of his age and health, and then William will be king, and he is also loved by the British public. I just can not see all that thrown away for the Harkles, who are rightly hated by the British public.

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max-the-d0g · 4 years ago

Text

“So like that then...”

Audrey Tindall x reader

Audrey gets the ending she deserves I think

Being Sidney’s assistant is a nightmare, on normal days. But having to go back to the Roanoke house is The nightmare. Being on the set wasn't too bad, nothing too weird happened. You were surprisingly close to the actress, Audrey Tindall. She was sweet and hilarious, and you loved her but would never let her know. You loved being near her, so going back the Roanoke house wouldn't be extremely bad. The only downside is, you won't be in the house with her, you would be in the van with the monitors with Sidney. The schedule you had been given told you that your arrival would be at dawn. So, you couldn’t see the gorgeous blonde or the joyful smiles. Which she sends you whenever you were in the room. she would always greets you with a bear hug during your set hours.

You were driving on the dirt road in the direction of the van that Sidney had sent earlier in the day. In the seat next to you, you acquired some takeout for the guys in the van and some coffee you kept sipping from to keep you awake on the journey, it was Audrey favourite. She told you about it when you went to a cafe with her. Which was the most exciting times of you life. When you arrived at the destination of the van, everything seems off, like someone was telling you to leave. The vibe feels uneasy, making you second guessing coming here.

Hopping out of the car, your eyes zone in on the body on the grass. Scrambling to the body, you see Sidney's covering the grass and a camera beside his head. “What the actual fuck!” You voice raises slightly, gagging at the sight. You look around seeking any sign of what could caused this, blood splats on the van, all over the grass and a few specs on you hand when you rolled the body over. The grass coated in blood.

You fish for your phone in the glove box of the car, “ Shit. Shit Shit. What the actual fuck.” After frantically typing in 911, you get hold of the police. Telling them what you have just encountered. You stay on the phone with them, they inform you not to disturb anything and to stay where you are. You place your hand on your forehead trying to think what evil shit could do this, turning your head slightly to the bushes you see another body. “ Are you shitting me? There's another body? Oh shit, it's Jill.” You say to no one, but the operator replies telling you to keep calm and look for shelter. You look to the van then your car. The van you decided.

Walking in you look around and to see the cameras still on and working fine. Studying one you see Shelby. Dead. “Oh shit,” you mumble. You look at the one in the corner and see Matt in the basement with his head smashed against the concrete floor. “Fuck.”

“Is it safe there, hello Y/N? Is everything okay?” The operator says.“No... I am not fine. Shit, I think they are all gone.”

“Okay, keep where you are. If you hear anything, grab some sort of weapon and hide. I will keep on call until the police arrive. They are 20 minutes away.”

---- After 20 minutes you heard the sirens. A knock is heard after a couple of minutes. “Police! Is anyone in there. Come out now.” “Oh thank god... they are here. Thank you, Dana.” “You are welcome.” she hangs up. “There is a house. There might someone alive.” You mumble to them. Getting into the front of the police car. The rest of the police are already at the scene when you pull up. Some officers near a trap door on the ground and some in the house. Peering towards the house, you see Lee leave. Oh shit, she survived whatever bullshit that has happened. “One survivor.” The officer declares next to you. Where is Audrey? Oh god, She can't be gone. Shit please no, if there's a God up there. Audrey better be alive. “Another one. Two survivors.” You look to the right and see Audrey. You get out of the car and step to Audrey. She doesn't see you, her eyes are zoned onto Lee. “You.” You hear Audrey say. You see Audrey looking at Lee and then the officers gun. No! “Audrey!” You yell, her hand grabs for the gun on the officer, officers around begin to react.“Audrey!” You yell louder. Her eyes find yours and her hands flops at her side. You manage to run to her, gathering her into you. “Oh my god, what the hell happened? Don't answer right away. Ok. Let's get you out of here.” She hugs you back. You capture her soft face looking for any marks and scraps that may litter her face. “That fucking bitch.” She mumbles into your side of your exposed neck, her warm breathe tickling you. After you let go of her face, she pulls you tightly to her. Her body trembles as she steps away from the officers and into a clearing.

An officer gives you a blanket. You wrap her into it, covering her shoulders. “What? Lee... What did she do?”A soft sob leaves Audrey's mouth,“She killed Monet and she tried to kill me.” She mumbles incoherently, her shaky arms tightening around you and a hurt rasp leaves her mouth. “Let's get you away from her and to the ambulance, okay?” Your eyes land on Lee who looks in shock, the police around her try to ask her what allegedly happened. But, she seems not to recall anything.

---

The past couple of days she has been staying at house. Most days she is okay, she is still her bubbly self, making jokes and making you laugh.The night, however, are what hits her worse. She wakes most nights from nightmares, screaming and thrashing around on the bed. The scream are the thing that wakes you up, the gut wrenching screams fills the empty house. You rush to her side to aid her. Always there to comfort her, once she is settled down and calmed you usher her out of the bed to the kitchen for a cup of tea. She snuggles up to you, keeping contact with you. You then, usher her to your room with a warm smile. “Your presence always helps.” She will mutter before she falls to sleep, a content smile gracing her lips.

---

A couple of weeks later, both of you hear that Lee has is been put on trial for murder of at least six people, but she walks free somehow. This issue pisses Audrey off, but also frightens her, knowing a murder is walking free and especially one that tried to kill her and that killed her castmates and friends. She plagued with the though of Lee stalking her and killing her. Lee haunts her thoughts most days, and not leaving when she sleeps. These thoughts keeps the British woman awake, afraid to closer eyes only to open them in a nightmare where she dies brutally. Audrey has began to fear the dark, scared of what lurks there. She's afraid of what lurks in the shadow, most nights she will leave the lights on and try to sleep, only to fail and take a nap whilst you are in the room.

---

Audrey was reading the news of a new court case that Lee has been put on trial for this one being her ex-husband murder. “If she walks free, I'm going freak out. She killed him. It’s apparent.”Audrey mutters,“Her daughter is testifying against her... That is a mum from hell. She witnessed her mother kill her father with a rock.” She adds.“Is she going to prison?”You peer over her shoulder placing your head softly on her shoulder. Audrey looks to your side of your head,“Are you joking me? She blamed her daughters imagination? She walked free again...”Audrey places a soft kiss to your cheek.“She has to be in prison soon.” Looking at her with shock, she looks away and carries on reading. Touching the place, she kissed you feel yourself fall deeper for her. Well, that was unexpected. Lana Winters had asked Lee for an interview after the trials, unbeknownst to the both of you who enjoyed watching her shows. “Y/N, it’s on. Come on, I need to see it. You know I don't miss an episode of Winters.” She yells, you run and sit next to Audrey, her face falls when she sees that Lee is on her screen. “Are you joking me? Her? She's a murderer. Lana could've asked me, Y/N.” She says, a little dramatically. “She might after, who knows maybe you might be her guest next week. Do you wanna keep watching? We could rewatch Billie’s show again if you want?” she ponders for a bit and shakes her head no. Nothing new was heard, other than Lee lying about her encounters and who massacred them. Lana asks her a few questions, “Why did you agree to come to this interview?” Lee believes that they have something in common. Rolling your eyes at the irony, “Yes, killing her son who tried to kill her isn't something you have in common.” Audrey yells at the screen. A question that shocks both you and Audrey is Lana asking Lee, “Where her daughter is.” Lana says she has been missing before the show even started. Audrey looks to you, the shock is written all over her face. She comes closer to you, almost on your lap. “She wouldn't, would she? Kill her daughter? ”You mutter. “If she killed those people and her ex-husband in front of her daughter of course she can.” When she says this, someone bursts through the door on screen.“That's one of them hillbilly incest fuckers, that took me.” She mutters, her voice wavers a bit. Tensing a bit at the mention of it, he knocks Lana out and when he is about to kill Lee he is shot down by an officer. The screen blacks out and text comes up, saying there's a ‘slight problem we will return in a few minutes’. “What the hell just happened?”

You both decided to call it an early night. Walking to your separate rooms you feel Audrey clammy hand around you wrist. “Can you sleep with me tonight?” Freezing a bit, not knowing how to reply. The silence gives Audrey the impression she overstepped, asking too much of you. “Never mind that was foolish. Goodnight, Y/N” “Yes, I will sleep with you.” Relief washes over her after you say it. She grips your hand and ushers you to the bed. “You can take this side. I’ll take the other side.” She points to each side. Both of you are settled in you respected sides, laying there stiff a little stiff. Audrey shuffles closer to you, she rolls onto her side. “You look a bit stiff there y/n. Relax it's just me, we’ve done this before” she whispers. “Sorry, didn't realise.” Rolling over to her, to face the gorgeous woman, you see conflict. A concern expression, almost. “Is there something on your mind, Audrey?” She doesn't look directly into your eyes. “If you didn't shout my name that day, I would have probably either have killed Lee and gone to prison or died,” she mutters. “And I wouldn't be here with you. Someone who makes me content and someone I love dearly. Not like a friend. Knowing you could’ve seen me shot and killed, kills me inside.” Love dearly, not like a friend. Probably like a family member.

“It frightens me that if I didn't have you here. How would I handle anything?” She tears up and chokes on a sob.“Hey, come here,” she scoots into your neck. “Well, you don't have to think about that. I’m here for you that's all that matters. You will get through this whole mess, and you won't be alone. You have me.”You push her closer, your hand rubbing light circles on her back, until her both relaxes.“But I don’t have you.” You frown slightly at this.“What do you m-” You are silenced by a pair of lips, caught off guard at first you don't react. she starts moving away at the lack of reaction, thinking it was rejection. You capture the side of her face pulling her closer to you and kiss back. “So like that then...” You mutter against her lips. She hums in reply deepening the kiss.

#audrey tindall #audrey tindall x reader #ahs roanoke #ahs #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #lana winters #ahs imagine #ahs fanfiction #cordelia goode x reader #lana winters x reader

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idol-trickster · 3 years ago

Text

OOC: updates on the blog?

Hello all!

Thank you so much 💜 for such lovely reception, again, especially with this event! I wasn’t sure how well it’d be taken, as it’s a bit 👌 off-canon, but honestly I’m so grateful and blown away by the support you guys give and it makes me want to keep working hard! As such, I want to be fully transparent with everything going on around the blog. (The various art streams being a stepping stone) With some changes made to help interactions!

Sadly one of the things I wish I did better with my first ask-blog was be more transparent and open. You can say I was a bit nervous and unsure how much to interact or what content to post or reblog, a valuable learning lesson; All of which I’m taking and fledging out with this blog to become a warmer and productive face in the community I adore so much!

To begin:

A few of you may have noticed, but I’ve added a new ❔ Counter for Asks on my blog description (at least the sidebar/mobile version). I’ll try to update this as much as possible so you all can get an estimate of response times.

I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure if it’d be in poor taste or not to have this feature in the open, as I don’t want it to look like I’m...flaunting? However, realistically, I know this will help��everyone interacting with me understand my workload. The last thing I want is for you to feel like I’m ignoring your questions or interacts! I see it all: the replies , the asks, the mentions, the reblogs (( I do go through and read tags and I love them all very much. 😭💜 even especially the thirst on main ones HAHA. ✨Oh golly, to everyone who tells me they love my art, you guys are the MVPs it makes my day so much! Especially reassuring with how much of a journey my consistency is and how I often I change my style; I worry haha~ 💦 ))

Now, while the !Survivor event is time limited; lasting maybe a month or two? (three if you guys like it enough or how asks go?) I’ll still respond to non-event posts, especially for threads on-going, so you don’t get bored or miss Trickster too much! 😂

With this counter in place I’d personally like it to stay around 20-ish asks if possible. *Wink wink nudge nudge* , So I’m humbly asking followers and fans to keep a general mindfulness about this so everyone can have a turn and try to send in one ask each.

If you’re running a fellow ask blog, don’t worry about the counter too much when sending in an ask (I know ideas can be fleeting) unless you’re wanting a fast response: This is because I want to interact with a variety of blogs as much as possible in the dbd community. ⭐ I’ll sacrifice the work load for lining up content 🙏.

Although, if my asks reach 40, I’ll set it as a hard limit cut-off and close ask-box until I can reduce it. This will be for my peace of mind of not getting too far behind~ 🌺

I would like to also try and be even faster with my response times, which unfortunately means cutting down on some of the art posts. 😰 I’ve streamlined my art while still remaining fairly pleasing to me, and I don’t want to sacrifice quality too much, so I will instead be reserving art for interacts and look more into doing text posts for general answers (Maybe even doing sprites, like a few of my friends, or keep up with some doodle work). Of course this is liable to change, depending on the inspiration or flow. I’ll take artistic liberties 📝.

With all this being said (whew that was a lot, sorry), I hope that this will bring you guys peace of mind along with me, and have you guys look forward to seeing the new system in place! Organization really does help so much... 🥰

I am looking forward to interacting with everyone and even streaming more art for you guys if you don’t mind a spoiler here or there on occasion and are interested. ( I try to stream often on discord, so again, a plug for the DBD server I’m running with a few friends. It’s turning into a really lovely place lately with all the amazing bloggers and we try to be drama-free and welcoming to all as a community~)

I don’t know how to wrap this up so...Lastly, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!! AAAAAH I’m sorry but IT’S SO AMAZING EVERYTIME to just be a part of this community and seeing everyone else unleash their creativity and show interest in mine. It’s truly such a wonderful thing and I’m so so so grateful to every single one of you that makes this place such a good one and looks at my art and just hhh 🤩 I’ll be sure to get back on the grind now LOL 💪 have a wonderful week every single last one of you.

#ooc #blog update #long post

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snickiebear · 4 years ago

Note

If this inspires anything in you, and if you have the time to write it, I hope we can see how you respond to the following prompt:

Kakashi is the god Sakura has to eat and kill.

Lordt help us!

HAHAHAHA MITTENS!! this is literally one of the best prompts ever. thank you SO MUCH!!

i literally had to sit down and outline this so make sure i gave it justice LMAO also, did a little research on japanese kami! which is so interesting btw :))

side note! this is also on ao3 bc i really, really loved it

xiv.

It begins with a girl (doesn’t it always?). A girl made woman who is nothing but smiles and laughter, unfiltered sunshine and the smell of flowers on the warm breeze.

She is good, she is brave, she is kind.

And she grows, that girl made woman, she grows and her eyes open to the world around her. To the hatred of the mortal, to the disease of the gods.

She holds her mother close as she dies in her arms, her father off to war.

They never find his body.

She is the only survivor of her village, war and wreckage in her wake.

This woman made once of sweet sighs and feather light touches learns to survive, learns to harden herself against the world, to bare her teeth and not her throat, to love the scars and hard muscle of her once too soft body.

She meets a woman with too ancient eyes for a face so young and the woman smiles at her, it is a horrible, wretched look. It is a beautiful, timeless look. “Oh, you.” She murmurs, voice old and young, standing slowly. “You’ll do just fine.”

And the girl made woman bares her teeth in a smile, a warning, tilting her head to the side, “Oh? And what shall I do just fine?”

The woman assesses her, amber eyes shining with something cruel, “You will be my avenger, girl.”

And the girl made woman, well, she rather likes the sound of that.

xxiii.

She sees him for the first time at the market, it’s a cloudy day, the streets full of people and the carts slowly selling out of the limited goods available.

The very land has been dying for years now. The mortals do not know it, but Sakura does. Less and less crops, dying plants, brain soil.

The thought itself brings a slight smile of fondness to her face.

But Sakura sees him for the first time at the market, and she knows who he is, what he is. She was under Tsunade’s tutelage for years. Sakura knows a god, a kami, when she sees one, feels one.

So, she walks, shoulders back, spine straight, loose and fluidly until her boot purposely catches on a crack in the cobblestoned road and she’s airborne with a sharp gasp—

Until two strong hands wrap around her forearms, steadying her gently. Sakura looks up, face flushed and eyes wide as she makes eye contact with the Shinigami, who looks at her in concern.

The god takes the form of a tall, broadly shouldered man with a mess of gray hair. Onyx eyes stare at her and they are so black she can see her reflection. Sakura fights the full body shudder that threatens to overtake her.

She has stared into the eyes of a dying god before. Staring into a living one’s should be no different.

“Are you okay?” He asks and his voice rumbles through her, her heart pounding without her consent.

“Yes,” She breathes and offers a shy but sweet smile, slowly taking a step back. He lets his hands drop, fingers grazing her bare skin. She ignores the goosebumps that erupt in his wake. “Thank you very much…”

“Hatake Kakashi,” The liar says, eyes crinkling from over his mask. “And you are?”

“Haruno Sakura,” She replies easily, tucking her hair behind her ear. The Shinigami holds out her basket of goods and she takes it, brushing her fingers against his deliberately, calculatingly.

The wretched kami gives her another eye crinkle, taking a step back himself, “Aa, a pleasure then, Haruno-san.”

Forcing a blush, Sakura waves off the honorific, “Please, just Sakura.”

“Then I am simply Kakashi,” And with a duck of his head, the fraud turns and ambles away.

Sakura turns also, disappearing into the crowd of much too skinny humans, too poor, too stupid. She allows herself to grin, wide and unfiltered, and with teeth. And that scaled, clawed, fanged thing inside her peeks its eye open and purrs.

xvi.

Tsunade— or at least that is what she wants Sakura to call her — takes a long swig from her jug and cackles to herself. “I was right when I picked you, you know.”

Sakura glances up from her scroll of poisons, “You still have yet to tell me why it took only one look to think I can do whatever avenging you want done.”

Swirling the liquid in the jug once more, Tsunade chuckles, “Call it intuition, yeah?”

She huffs, snapping the scroll shut and stealing the jug from her master, taking a long drink herself. It is horribly bitter and disgustingly tart, and Tsunade laughs herself hoarse at the look on Sakura’s face.

“You’re going to do great, mighty, quiet things.” Tsunade says after a long silence. Sakura looks at her curiously. “You will bring war upon earth, disrupt the very heavens. Sweet child, you only know a taste of the power you could hold.”

And Sakura, well, she’s been alone since she was eight years old and surrounded by disease ridden corpses, she’s stolen and cheated and bartered her way through survival. She knows her way around a knife, a piece of glass, a sharp rock.

She has spilt blood just to eat for the night.

“You’ll teach me,” It is not a question.

That cruel, beautiful smile unfurls on her master’s face, “Of course, Avenger. Tell me what you want to know.”

“Everything.” Sakura breathes, demands, pleads.

A soft, aching laugh. “Very well, come here and listen closely.”

And Sakura is a clever girl made woman, she listens to everything Tsunade says, and everything she does not.

So, when Tsunade leaves her alone for the night, Sakura stares at the ceiling of the cheap Inn they are staying in and allows herself to smirk.

xxiii.

She sees him every time she goes to the market after that. He crinkles his eyes at her with a, “Good morning, Sakura-san.”

And in response Sakura blushes and murmurs a sweet, “Hello Kakashi-san.”

It goes like this for weeks until he changes their routine, leaning against one of the carts, tossing an apple into the air. There is only one farmer who can now produce apples, and even then the fruit is weak, no longer crispy and juicy.

The very land, the very life of this village is being drained away. Just as the other villages Sakura has traveled through. There will always be consequences to her actions, she supposes.

Kakashi tosses her the apple and Sakura makes sure to fumble with it before clutching it close to her chest, a teasing smile on her lips, “Kakashi-san, this is new.”

“Mah,” He hums, shrugging, “Just didn’t want you to miss out on your usual, is all.”

Sakura smiles, tucking the apple into her basket, the usual contents dwindled down to a simple jar of jam, a measly loaf of bread, and now the apple. She would need to make this quick and move towns soon.

“Say, would you like to come to lunch with me?” It’s a shot in the dark but she’s hoping that Tsunade was right when she said Sakura was infuriatingly charming. “I understand if you would not like—"

Kakashi cuts her off with a wave of his hand and a friendly look in his eye. Sakura wonders, idly, what he would taste like freshly baked and seasoned. “I am not one to turn down free food, of course.”

She laughs, a light and tittering thing and bares her throat the slightest bit before looping arms with him, “I shall lead the way then.”

Luckily, she has some dried meat and left over vegetables to make something decent and she smiles as him as she sits.

“You’re a healer.” Is what he says, eyeing the herbs and the bandages she had left out.

Sakura shrugs, “I try to lessen pain,” It is one of the many things Tsunade had left her.

He looks at her as if she is something new and so very interesting and she knows what he sees. A thing of life, a thing of preservation, has invited a creature of death, a creature of destruction into its domain, and allows that dark creature to live there.

It is what she wants him to see. Sakura smiles with teeth and she knows he does not see the wolf that sits in front of him.

xvi.

“Dodge!” Tsunade barks harshly and Sakura just barely avoids a direct hit, her skin still burning from the way the air sizzles from her master’s blow.

Sakura twists and flips backwards to gain some space between them, thighs quaking and sweat pouring as she pants, chest heaving. “I fucking am!” She bites back.

“Do it faster.” And then Tsunade is in her space, uppercutting and a blow to her stomach, sending Sakura flying into the corpse of trees behind them.

But Sakura is used being beaten down and she snarls loudly, landing on all fours, fingers digging deep into the ground before she lunges upwards, narrowing avoiding Tsunade’s next hit before spinning horizontally and lashing out with her foot.

And for the first time, Sakura lands a hit on Tsunade; sending her stumbling back, golden blood bleeding down her face.

She lands, gasping for breath, knees collapsing out from under her as she stares wide eyed as her master wipes blood and sweat from her face with the back of her hand. Her amber eyes sharpen to knife points as she grins, feral and oh so wild, “Very good, Sakura. Now we’re making progress.”

Despite her exhaustion, Sakura smirks, tasting blood and salt and victory. “Think you can handle more, old lady?”

“Don’t push your luck, brat.” Tsunade smirks, stalking towards Sakura to pull her up, “Now let me see that jaw of yours. And the stomach, the hell did I tell you about the sto-“

“I know,” She snaps, rolling her eyes as her body throbs something fierce. She allows herself the weakness of leaning into Tsunade’s as they trudge back to their small cottage. “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” They leave it at that. Then, “That was a good hit, my pupil.”

And Sakura, well, she’s feeling indulgent, so she smiles, a slight twitch of the lips as she murmurs, “Thank you, shishou.”

xxiv.

She finds him at the usual spot, draped over a branch like a limp curtain, book in hand. Sakura is still not quite over the fact that the death god reads awfully written porn, but at this point in her life, nothing can truly shock her.

Sakura is well past expectations.

Hiking up her pants, she climbs up the tree and to the branch he’s lounging on, straddling it so her back is to the trunk. Kakashi makes a curious noise when she pulls out her book from the waistline of her pants, “I never took you as an Icha Icha reader, Sakura-chan.”

Peering over the top of her book, Sakura quirks a brow, “If you can read porn, so can I.” A pause as she turns the page, “Plus you’re reading Paradise, I’m reading Violence. Two very different pieces of literature.”

What she will not tell him is that Tsunade taught her how to read with these books, she’s memorized every page, paragraph, and line written.

“You wound me so,” He sighs, going back to his book.

Comfortable silence descends upon them and the only sounds are of nature and the rustle of paper. Time passes and she cannot help the slight twitch of her lips whenever Kakashi giggles at a certain part. It is nice, this quiet.

But she knows it will not last. She will not allow it.

And like an omen, low rumbling of thunder rolls through their quiet, small droplets landing on her hand before the rain steadily picks up. Sakura snaps the book shut and shimmies down the tree, Kakashi landing soundly next to her.

“My place?” She asks, though she knows the answer.

Kakashi intertwines their hands, gently and slowly, his hand encompassing her own as he looks at her, dark eyes reflecting the sky as lightning strikes. Something hot pools deep in her belly when she makes eye contact with him.

And she knows. She knows that she has him.

They stand in her small cottage, dripping and studying each other before they move as one, ripping at each other’s clothes, all lips, teeth, and tongue.

She claws at his back when he thrusts into her, rough and unyielding. The rain pounds outside as her back arches and he groans deep and rasping.

He falls asleep, his face pressed into the crook of her neck and Sakura allows herself to smirk, the taste of glory on her tongue once more.

xiv.

Sakura glowers and bares her teeth at the woman, “You still haven’t fuckin’ told me what we’re supposed to be doing.”

Truly, the only reason why Sakura is even here is because of the free food and shelter. She is well aware that nothing is free in this world, Sakura has learned that the hard way.

The woman tilts her head, studying keenly and Sakura rears her head in a snarl. But the woman’s lips pick up at the corner, “What’s your name girl?”

“Sakura.” She bites out, fingers curling into fists. Glancing around the tavern, she notes the exits, the windows, the people who could be an issue. Then again, she’s sitting across the biggest threat in the room. “And yours?”

The woman hums, “Call me Tsunade.”

“And what am I supposed to be doing here?” She grounds out. Sakura nearly bites the woman when two strong hands clamp down on her shoulders, the woman’s face inches from her own.

“You are the catalyst, girl. The commination that will teach the world the very meaning of power.” Sakura’s eyes sharpen at the last word and Tsunade nods. “You like that, hm? I will teach you then, Sakura. And you will enact my vengeance on the heavens itself.”

Sakura stares, tension slowly melting from her body as she stares at this woman, at this savior. And she thinks, she remembers how cold her mother’s body was, the look of grief her father wore when he left.

She remembers tripping over the bodies of friends, of neighbors, half coherent and sickly.

Looking at Tsunade, Sakura licks her lips, “And what will you teach me?”

“How to turn that rage into a dagger and slit gods’ throats with it.” The woman purrs and Sakura smiles.

xxiv.

She wakes to a freezing cold chest to her back and puffs of air on her neck, just as she has since that night.

It is exactly as Tsunade said it would be; fishing. Lure, hook, and reel.

Sakura lets herself smile with teeth, a smug and sharp thing before she slowly extracts herself from the tangle of limbs they had become. The Shinigami slumbers in her bed, wrapped in her blankets.

Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, she looks at the god who she has fallen in love with. He loves her with just as much ferocity, she knows. And despite it all, she finds herself not quite hesitating when she goes to dig through her cabinets, finding the small nine pedaled flower. It once had ten and after this morning it will only have eight.

It is as if sinking into a familiar skin as she picks one of the petals, tucking the flower back where it was. Humming under her breath, Sakura grounds the petal in a small bowl before brewing some tea, sprinkling the powder into it.

The Shinigami’s arms snake around her waist, kissing her temple as he rumbles, “Good morning.”

Sakura turns her head to smile at him, offering the tea.

The scaled, clawed, fanged thing within her has its ugly maw open, head throw back as it cackles and howls.

xviii.

“Listen brat,” Tsunade says, snapping open a scroll.

“I’ve already read that,” Sakura interjects, her brows raising. “You know that.”

Tsunade slaps the back of her head, “When I say listen, I mean it.” She shoves the scroll into Sakura’s lap before striding towards a chest that had not been there before. “Come here.”

Slowly, Sakura makes her way towards the opened chest and peeks inside. She drops the scroll, “Is-is that-”

“Weapons to kill the divine,” Tsunade finishes for her, nodding. “Find one you like.”

Sakura swallows harshly as she kneels down and digs through the weapons, careful of every sharp point, as she palms a knife, a curved dagger with a golden blade. “This one.” She whispers, looking up to her master.

Tsunade nods in approval. “There are few ways to kill a kami.” She holds out one finger, “One, with an ichor dipped weapon.” A second finger. “Two, a very particular poison.”

Picking up the scroll, Sakura glances down the list before landing on one flower, “Kami koroshi.”

“That’s right.” Tsunade nods, “And do you know what to do with it?”

Sakura stands, flipping the dagger in her hand. It feels like coming home, having a blade at her side, bathing in the intimately dangerous knowledge of how to bring about the destruction of the heavens.

“Crush it for indigestion.”

xxiii.

Her stomach aches with laughter, clutching at her sides as she cramps and chokes on her tears. “An-and then wha-what happened?” She manages to get out as Kakashi laughs himself, leaning against the wall, a jug of liquor in hand.

He passes it to her and Sakura takes a long drink, reminiscing of a time similar to this.

“Then I told him, fuck off you little shit—" Kakashi wheezes and Sakura shouts with laughter, curling over as she gasps for breath. “And go blow som-someone else!”

They both dissolve into giggles and howls, Kakashi joining her on the floor. Sakura’s panting by the time she catches her breath, wiping tears from her face, and when she looks over Kakashi is not much better.

Brushing hair from his face, she points skyward, the stars winking down at him. “Hey Kakashi,” She asks, drunk off her ass and still giggly. “Where do you think we go when we die?”

Silence meets her question, and she sluggishly looks to the side to find him watching her, eyes soft and so full of— of—

“You’ll go somewhere safe,” He says softly. “Somewhere beautiful.”

“Yeah?” She mumbles, eyes dropping closed.

“I’ll make sure of it.” Is the last thing she hears before the dark overtakes her.

xix.

Tsunade sits across from her, laughing as she takes another long drink from her jug and sets it down heavily.

Sakura simply watches, leaning back in her chair, eyes cold and head tilted as her master coughs once, twice, three times.

Her arms begin to lose its color, being paler and paler and Tsunade watches with detached interest before laughing. She looks to Sakura, “Took you long enough, you fuckin’ brat.”

Snorting, Sakura stands, dagger in hand as Tsunade’s body begins to writhe, her breathes coming quick and uneven.

She yanks her master’s hair back, exposing her throat and slitting it in a single slide, so deep that she knicks bone, golden blood spraying.

The body drops forward, ichor pooling on the table and dripping onto the floor. Sakura sighs, rubbing the back of her neck as she kneels down to look into Tsunade’s lifeless eyes, “I will take it from here, Shishou.”

The promise rings out into the silence and Sakura revels in it.

xxiv.

Kakashi takes a sip of the tea as they both sit down, Sakura across from him. She takes a bite from the rest of their bread, watching him keenly.

He jerks suddenly, choking and hacking as he looks to her in horror and alarm. “You—"

“Me.” She confirms easily, getting up, dagger in hand.

The Shinigami roars and pushes the table away from himself and into the wall, Sakura ducks, the wood barely grazing her head before she lunges.

His already pale skin grays some more as he attempts to fight her off. She laughs at him, holding him down with one hand, knees on either side of his hips. And in the morning light, her dagger glints like a heaven sent prayer.

She plunges the blade into his head and drags it down his breast, carving him open as the kami screams and screams and screams.

Sakura feels his life bleed out from him under her hand. It is quiet once more.

And the girl made woman smiles, all bloodied teeth and gold stained hands. "And here we are." she whispers, caressing the corpse's cheek, reveling in her quiet victory. "Divinity dies at my wretched hands once again."

xvii.

“Shishou,” She begins, treading carefully. Her teacher looks at her in question, quirking up a brow. “Why were you outcasted from the other Kami?”

Tsunade— or more commonly known as Inari, Goddess of Everything Important, of the very Life— laughs and it is a hollow sound. “Oh, darling girl,” She says, a bland smile on her face. “Even gods hunger for power."

xiv.

Sakura sits, a feast laid out in front of her, a goblet of wine in her hand as she smiles, eyes flashing with something predatory.

Picking up her fork, Sakura spears into the first bit of meat, taking a bite and moaning at the way it melts in her mouth, the way the spices and flavors all blend.

She sips at her wine, running her tongue over her teeth before she laughs, throwing her head back and cackles at it all, with it all. Oh, she is a god killer, she is god taught and god fucked and she will be the one to rule them all.

Sakura sits, a feast laid in front of her, and eats the Shinigami’s flesh, one bite at a time until she can feel the power in her roar.

xix.

The corpse still sits at the table as Sakura rummages through the shit Tsunade had left behind, finding a thick envelope sealed in wax. Prying it open, Sakura laughs.

If you’ve found this, it means you’ve finally grown a pair and done what you were supposed to do. Well done, my pupil. You know your mission. I have trained you well. Do not disappoint me.

And behind the scrawled letter is a recipe.

She looks to the corpse and back down to the paper before she stands, going to gather the ingredients needed.

Sakura stands, flipping through the rest of the contents of the envelope until she pauses at another paper; a list of names and common dwellings.

The Shinigami’s is underlined three times in red.

xxv.

It ends with a girl (doesn't it always?), a girl made of nothing but destruction and anger, all slit throats and bleeding teeth.

She is horrid, she is wretched, she is powerful.

And she has grown, that girl made woman, she has grown and her eyes are wide open and she is intimately aware of the hated and evil of the world, of the weaknesses of the divine.

She finds them laying under a tree, peacefully existing and smiling at each other. The blonde one laughs, clutching his stomach while the raven simply watches on in adoration.

Sakura takes out the list, and under the Shinigami’s name crosses off two more, Raijin and Fujin.

Smiling, she makes her way towards them making sure to look a little lost and a bit scared.

And that thing inside her, the scaled, clawed, fanged thing, it smiles wide and hungry.

#silly things from silly friends #kakasaku #that one ninja anime #200 follower event :)#a shared pen

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protego-et-servio · 5 years ago

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((Not created by me. Copy-pasted, in case it gets taken down from Google Docs. Not linking to keep original safe.))

#blacklivesmatter

PLEASE SIGN PETITIONS, DONATE, CALL AND EMAIL TO DEMAND JUSTICE, AND SHARE

Reply to this tweet if I am missing anything

Re: the man who maced a young girl at the Seattle protest

Jared Campbell #8470

Office of police accountability: (206) 684-8797 [email protected]

Chief: Carmen Best

File an anonymous complaint

Re: the woman who drove over a pedestrian during a peaceful protest in Denver

Jennifer Watson

Owner of JP Watson Interiors

Denver sheriff: (720) 337-0194

Hate crime hotline: (720) 913-6458

Re: Trump supporters who ran over protesters

Jacob Robles (jacob_robles98) and Dylan Mota (@dylan_mota_)

8JUK695

Also in the car: Alyssa Mackovitch (@alyssa_mackovitch)

Re: cop responsible for telling others to turn off their body cameras

Tobias Raya

(310) 253-6318

[email protected]

*The White House has a history of giving vague, unhelpful responses or ignoring these petitions but I’d still suggest signing and making your voices as loud as possible. It can’t hurt to try.

@icatboy on Twitter: “you guys don’t sign those white house petitions sadly they don’t do shit, those were only effective under obama’s administration and mean nothing in 7rump’s term. they aren’t obligated to give us a statement after 100k signature sadly”

I still have them linked below in the petitions section for those who want to sign

WOMAN KIDNAPPED - LICENSE PLATE EEV701

Stop sharing videos of Black people being murdered. “Seeing all sides” doesn’t mean watching someone’s murder. Believe Black people. It’s gratuitous and exploitative. Imagine being his kin right now.

BLM carrd

BLM doc

If you live internationally and cannot sign petitions without an american postal code feel free to use any of these:

90015 - Los Angeles, California

10001 - New York City, New York

75001 - Dallas, Texas

More resources for international people

Petitions

*Do not donate to change.org

Text FLOYD to 55156 OR sign the petition here: Color of Change - #JusticeforFloyd: Demand the officers who killed George Floyd are charged with murder.

Color of Change - #JusticeforBre: Police officers who killed Breonna Taylor must be FIRED.

Color of Change - #JusticeforAhmaud

change.org - Justice for George Floyd

change.org - The Minneapolis Police Officers to be charged for murder after killing innocent black man

change.org - Justice for George Floyd

change.org - Justice for Breonna Taylor

change.org - Julius Jones is innocent. Don't let him be executed by the state of Oklahoma.

Justice for Julius (more info with how to help and where to send emails)

change.org - Prosecute the murderers who killed George Floyd

change.org - Justice for Belly Mujinga

change.org - Justice For Tony McDade

change.org - Hands Up Act

change.org - Justice For Joāo Pedro

change.org - Willie Simmons has served 38 years for a $9 robbery

change.org - Disbarment of George E. Barnhill

change.org - Justice for Regis Korchinski-Paquet

change.org - Justice for Ahmaud Arbery- Pass Georgia Hate Crime Bill

change.org - Free Anthony Wint

change.org - After The Smoke Clears... Arrest Juan DelaCruz for the MURDER of Pamela Turner RIGHT NOW

change.org - #freejeffersonelie

change.org - Exoneration of Albert Wilson

change.org - Justice for Sean

change.org - Reopen Kendrick Johnson's Case #J4Kendrick

change.org - Justice For Tamir Rice

change.org - Justice for Tamir Rice 2

change.org - Censorship of Police Brutality in France

change.org - Fire Racist Criminal Michael J Reynolds from the NYPD

change.org - Mandatory Life Sentence for Police Brutality

change.org - Criminal Charges for Travis & Greg McMichael in the murder of Black Jogger Ahmaud Arbery

change.org - Justice for Alejandro Vargas Martinez

change.org - Make false 911 calls a criminal offense

‪change.org - RAISE THE DEGREE

change.org - Free Siyanda

change.org - Jennifer Jeffley

change.org - Fire Racist Criminal Michael J Reynolds from the NYPD

change.org - Justice for Darrius Stewart

change.org - Justice for Amiya Braxton

change.org - Justice for Dion Johnson

change.org - Justice for Emerald Black

change.org - Junk the Anti-Terrorism Bill and Uphold Human Rights

change.org - Skip to main content Drop All Charges Against Incarcerated Trafficking Survivor Chrystul Kizer

change.org - Justice for Crystal Mason

change.org - Stop hit and run drivers who kill Innocent people from receiving bond in North Carolina

change.org - Justice for Tete

change.org - Justice for Sean Reed

text “JUSTICE” to 668366

moveon - #JusticeforBre: Police officers who killed Breonna Taylor must be FIRED

moveon - We want justice for 19 year old Darrius Stewart gunned down by a white police officer on last Fri...

Organize For - Take the Pledge: We Are the Movement for Black Lives

Text “ENOUGH” to 55156 - demand justice for Breonna Taylor

Text “JUSTICE” to 55156 - demand DA George Barnhill and Jackie Johnson are removed from office

We the People - Justice for George Floyd Make sure you confirm you signature by checking your email immediately after

We the People - Raise the Degree

We the People - Arrest the Other Three

People's Budget LA Tell your Council Member to reject Mayor Eric Garcetti's proposal to spend 54% of the general fund on the LAPD

reclaim the block - Tell MPLS City Council to Defund the Police

Donate

*Do not donate to any fundraisers hosted by Shaun King - he has an extensive history of collecting funds for pro-Black movements which have disappeared - deleted all petitions by The Action Pac because he is affiliated with them

*Need a Venmo to donate to Minneapolis activists? Donate via Venmo to the Femme Empowerment Project. Be sure to set your donation to "private." You can even specify how you want your donation to be used-- medic training, medic gear, or jail support.

Spreadsheet with places to donate to

gofundme.com - Official George Floyd Memorial Fund (this is the only legitimate gofundme to donate directly to George Floyd’s family)

gofundme - Justice for Kenneth Walker (for his legal representation supporting Breonna Taylor)

gofundme - I Run With Maud

gofundme - Help Coach Steve Parker Get Back in the Game

gofundme - Support Roy Stoddart’s Family

gofundme - Help a front line nurse and baby get proper care

gofundme - COVID19 testing, advocacy & education

gofundme - Jessica Mahone

gofundme - Comfort and Support for the Moncrease Family

gofundme - The Heart of a Chef

gofundme - Marcus Jackson Medical Funds

gofundme - COVID-19 Survivor, Ron's Road to Recovery

gofundme - Greene Family Fire Relief

gofundme - Justice for Regis

This is the only donation page approved by Regis’ mother: gofundme - Justice for Regis

gofundme - RIP Belly Mujinga

gofundme - Homeless Black Trans Women Fund

gofundme - Nadarrius Lundy (Nada) Memorial Fund

gofundme - Destiny Harrison's Legacy (organized by her mother)

Twitter thread full of gofundme’s (most of them were just listed but continue checking in case the thread has been updated)

@theysbianism on Twitter: please retweet! help my girlfriend, a Black trans woman, support her family and get her brother out of prison. the family collectively has been able to get $485 and only $200 more is needed. please boost and donate if you can!

Venmo: @celestialmadonna

Cashapp: $celestialmaddona

the action network - Demand justice for Tony McDade

Donate to Black Lives Matter

Donate to the Northstar Health Fund (medical supplies)

Sybrina Fulton's Campaign (Trayvon Martin’s mother is running for office in FL)

Donate to Reclaim the Block MPLS organization that invests in their community’s safety and fights against the police union

Donate to Black Visions Collective

Know Your Rights Camp their Legal Defense Initiative will pay for legal assistance for people protesting in MPLS + Kaepernick’s charity is funding the project

Oakland Anti Police Terror Project

South Minneapolis food shelves

MN Bail Fund and Relief List

Twitter thread of bail funds

Another twitter thread of bail funds

Pro bono representation of Houston protestors

Minnesota Freedom Fund (on-the-ground bail fund)

Louisville Bail Fund

Brooklyn Bail Fund

The Bronx Bail Fund

Atlanta Bail Fund (atl solidarity fund)

Atlanta Bail Fund (the action network)

LA Bail Fund

Columbus Bail Fund

Philadelphia Bail Fund (philly bail fund)

Philadelphia Bail Fund (philly bailout)

Detroit Bail Fund

Milwaukee Bail Fund

Charlotte Bail Fund: $WereStillHere OR venmo: ResistanceisBeautiful

Silicon Valley Bail Fund

Louisville Bail Fund

Chicago Bail Fund

National Revolving Bail Fund

Gas Mask Fund:

Venmo: @Isak-Douah

Cashapp: $Isakdouah

Paypal: [email protected]

Black owned businesses

Support small online Black owned businesses

Google doc of Black owned businesses

Twitter thread: "here’s a thread of black small businesses that were destroyed that you can donate to to help rebuild"

Donate to the following groups

http://aclu.org

http://joincampaignzero.org

http://nlg-npap.org

http://blacklivesmatter.com

http://advancementproject.org

http://changethenypd.org

http://M4BL.org

http://themarshallproject.org

Support protesters

For their safety, do not post pictures or videos of their faces

How to properly treat someone who has been tear gassed

Tips for protesters

More tips

How to extinguish tear gas

How to treat a bullet wound

Disable tanks

Delete your digital footprint

Disable tanks

Twitter thread masterlist of safety tips for protesting

Protester safety tips

Support the woman pushed by the cop at Barclays $Dounyazayer

Thread of Homeland Security words being monitored on social media sites

Twitter thread: Know Your Rights

Location safety thread

Twitter thread: "how to identify an undercover cop"

If you are arrested for protesting in Minneapolis, call (612) 444-2654 and they will bail you out

Legal Rts Ctr: (612) 337-0030

If you are arrested in NYC call The National Lawyers Guild hotline with name and arrest location: (212) 679-6018

Legal Aid Society: (212) 577-3300

Atlanta jail support: (404) 689-1519

Louisville jail support: (502) 705- 0081

The Bail Project: 1 (833) 425-6827

National Lawyers Guild LA - Legal Defense Hotline: (310) 313-3700

Pro Bono Legal Representation doc

Drop Off Sites in MPLS (as of 5/29)

Epworth United Methodist Church, 3207 37th Ave S, Minneapolis, MN 55406

MN Youth Collective Office, 2161 University Ave W. Suite 100

2161 University Ave is taking a pause on accepting donations - overflowing

CTUL- CENTRO DE TRABAJADORES UNIDOS EN LA LUCHA - 3715 Chicago Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55407

The Coven (Downtown/North Loop MPLS) - 30 N 1st St, Minneapolis, MN 55401

Bethlehem Lutheran Church - 436 Roy St St. Paul, MN (NOTE POLICE PRESENCE OBSERVED)

Please donate and drop off First Aid, Physical Safety, Covid Precaution and Nourishment Supplies

Educate yourselves

Anti-racism resources

Learn about Black history and activism

Books by Black Activists

Books: how to be actively antiracist

Learn about unconscious bias

Twitter thread of mental health resources for Black people

Twitter thread on why protesters attacked Target in MN

Being Black and LGBTQ

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Open Yale course - African American History: From Emancipation to the Present

ALEC Exposed

MPLS Protests

JACOB PEDERSON of the St. Paul PD is widely believed to have been the undercover cop vandalizing stores and starting fires during protests.

Report: What Does it Take to Embed a Racial Equity & Inclusion Lens?

Twitter thread of misinformation

Twitter thread: "how can i help from the uk?"

Contact Officials

GEORGE FLOYD is the name of the man who was murdered by DEREK CHAUVIN (badge 1087), TOU THAO (badge 7162), Thomas Lane, and J Alexander Kueng. If you truly care about getting justice, make phone calls to these numbers and express your anger. We cannot let another killer cop walk free.

UPDATE: As of May 29, Chauvin has been charged for third-degree murder. Continue pressuring officials for harsher charges because what he did was clearly not an accident. Also continue pushing for the other cops who were at the scene to be charged.

Contact Outline and Info

International Affairs Division

City Hall, Room 112

350 South 5th Street

Minneapolis, MN 55415

(612) 673-3074

Velma J. Korbel, Director

Department of Civil Rights

City Hall, Room 239

350 South 5th Street

Minneapolis, MN 55415

(612) 673-3012

Mayer Jacob Frey

https://app.smartsheet.com/b/form/d189a2276e234cacb9f02db60dac0569

(612) 673-2100

Hennepin County Attorney Mike Freeman

C-2000 Government Center

300 South Sixth Street

Minneapolis, MN 55487

https://www.hennepinattorney.org/about/contact

[email protected]

(612) 348-5550

MPLS FBI field office

(763) 569-8000

MPD 3rd Precinct

(612) 673-5703

MN Bureau of Criminal Apprehension

(651) 793-7000

Police Officers Federation of Minneapolis

(612) 788-8444

Louisville Mayor (demand justice for Breonna Taylor)

(502) 753-1784

MN Precinct Inspector

[email protected]

Commander of Training Unit

[email protected]

JUSTICE FOR REGIS CONTACTS

City Councillor Gord Perks - Parkdale - High Park

[email protected]

(416) 392-7919

MPP Bhutilla Karpoche - Parkdale - High Park

[email protected]

(416) 763-5630

MP Arif Virani - Parkdale - High Park

[email protected]

(416) 769-5072

Mayor of Toronto John Tory

[email protected]

(416) 397-2489

Toronto Police Chief Mark Saunders

[email protected]

(416) 808-2222

Solicitor General - Minister Sylvia Jones

[email protected]

(416) 325-0408

(519) 941-7751

Attorney General of Ontario Doug Downey

[email protected]

(416) 326-2220

(705) 726-5538

Urge the Special Investigations Unit (SIU) for transparency and accountability in handling her case

1 (800) 787-8529 OR (416) 622-0748

https://www.siu.on.ca/en/contact.php

Address concerns to SIU Director Joseph Martino

Sample Email:

Hello [recipient],

I am writing to you in regards to the incident that occurred at 100 High Park Avenue on May 27th, 2020. A 29 year-old Black woman, Regis, has died after allegedly falling off her balcony, despite police being present.

As a concerned citizen, I am very upset and disturbed at the events that took place and the allegations that this caused on the part of the police. I am demanding justice and answers as to the death of Regis Korchinski-Paquet.

A complete and transparent public and independent investigation needs to take place. Charges need to be brought to all the officers involved, as well as all information and evidence should be made available to the public.

Sincerely,

[your name]

JUSTICE FOR BREONNA TAYLOR CONTACTS

Murdered by Sgt. Jonathan Mattingly, Brett Hankison, and Myles Cosgrove

Louisville Metro PD

(502) 574-7111

Louisville Mayor Office

(502) 574-2003

JUSTICE FOR TONY MCDADE CONTACTS

Template

Tallahassee Police dept

[email protected]

Tallahassee Mayor John Dailey

[email protected]

Commissioner Jeremy Matlow https://www.talgov.com/Main/email.aspx?emailto=jeremy.matlow

Officer Kevin Bradshaw - Officer on Tony's case

(850) 556-1726

#blm #protests #black lives matter #george floyd

330 notes · View notes

ask-impure-vessel · 4 years ago

Note

I don't know if this will reach you at the right moment in time Vessel but, peace friend, The Wyrm has already shown he cares for you greatly and you have done him no disservice or wrong. This may simply a matter too important to discuss elsewhere and His Majesty may be too caught up in his own troubles to understand the affect he has on you.

[Note: Frank discussion of anatomy, anxiety/panic attacks, unreality, post-traumatic stress, past abuse, suicide, disordered eating, self-harm, stuff about the Abyss with all that entails and other such unpleasantries. Strap in, folks!]

The vessel felt like their body was somewhere a few steps to the right and back of them. Their father said nothing as he led them down to the workshop.

You don’t understand. You don’t-

There’s a distant panic in Vessel’s voice. They still keep walking, they must. The order was given. Despite what happened in the Abyss, control still belongs to the Pale King.

It was as if nothing had changed at all.

For the first time, they begin to resent that. The workshop is the last place they want to be, for multiple reasons besides the temple that was to become their agonizing grave. This is not a place that holds any good memories for them, not a single one.

They arrive in that darkened place, the birthplace of moulds, all thousand of them-700 kingsmoulds, 300 wingsmoulds-where Wyrm's research led to the vessels that rested in the infirmary and that walked into the room. The king shrugged off his silken robe, leaving on a shirt that still covered what was considered a decent amount in Hallownest, showing off the truth of his form; it had been a while and Vessel Hallow was shocked by the changes to his father's form.

He was a being of pure white carapace, plates with softer flesh between, especially around the joints; his skin was sunken, his belly not just thin but almost concave instead of convex. He looked a bit muscular, but mostly because he appeared to be starving. He was dull in color, the white often not as bright as it could be, looking almost dirty with a lack of nutrients to look glossy and nice.

Wyrm could subsist on soul like a vessel, but that didn't mean it was pleasant for him to do so. He was much like other bugs in physicality, fueled by food, water and having to use the toilet to flush out what his body didn't use of those things. His genitals were internal, just like any bug, his shirt covered where that was hidden.

His secondary set of arms were more visible now, as was the lower half he usually ambled upon: multiple legs and a long tail that terminated in a pointed end. His tail was thin, almost collapsed with the lack of care.

What was more alarming were the splotches of black. His hands were absolutely covered in it, just beyond the wrists but the lines that raced upwards were far more concerning. Void taint was a part of Hallow's body but for a pale being, such a sight promised long, lingering agony. The absolute rigid calm their father practiced suddenly became a lot more impressive.

It left Hallow in minor shock.

Father, are you dying? Have you already assured your death? Was it on purpose that you inflicted starvation and void poisoning upon yourself? I can think of few less painful, lingering deaths.

"Come. Please kneel so that I can more easily examine you and the changes to you." He activated the door seals and waited in a clear space.

<Father, I-> The vessel walked and knelt, words cutting off with anxiety.

Wyrm activated and checked on the seal on Hallow's mask. "Interesting, joining with the Lord of Shades didn't disengage this? I hadn't expected that. It must have been greatly weakened over the course of my rule and being forgotten. I had thought them already dead." He muttered and began to ghost fingers over the notches Hallow had. "Where did the Kingsoul go?"

That had been a question Hallow had been dreading.

A hand touched upon Hallow's chest. "There it is, if changed greatly at your breast. It became your core? Brace."

It was more warning than Hallow usually got; sharp pain radiated through their being, as something touched their heart.

<Father, it. It hurts.> The vessel gasped out. They were not words sufficient, but they were descriptive enough for their use.

"Please bear it a little longer. This is a very beautiful charm that has become your heart even if it is taboo to my being."

The pain grew to shocking agony, then to a fading sensation, Hallow felt like their body was a distant, cut off thing.

<Father, please. Stop!> The vessel spoke in growing horror, fear and concern.

The Pale King was faced with a decision then-and let go of the charm. Sensation slowly returned and the vessel gasped on the floor, curling in on themself on the floor as mind and body reconnected. It was painful as the disruption the Pale King had inflicted and the vessel would have gagged if they could on the feelings of revulsion they now felt.

They instead wept on the floor, black tears falling onto the ground as they shivered and their mind turned to things they did there, the pale Wyrm unheeding to a child's pain in the terrible silence; the screams that echoed only through the void, the vessel capable only of displaying stiff trembling to their master.

They recall the efforts to ensure they could learn magic. The painful process of 'installation' over being taught the theory that took place here. The studies that involved dying here and their shade. When the various seals were made on their shell and mask, the burning magic that had kept burning on their mask for days from them. They had done nothing but suffer in this room and this day had proven no different.

"Vessel, I. I'm sorry, that went too far." The king stroked their mask, making a soothing sound, a purr that Hallow hadn't heard before.

Hallow felt the dam burst and sat as they cried, for all the things they'd wanted and had never had. That Wyrm was holding them now, comforting them now, touching with loving intention rather than with cold intent of science or with violence. The feelings were somewhat positive, but many were bitter, some even bordered on hate and disgust that they didn't know what to do with. They had so many things to say, for themself, for the things that had been done to them and the things they'd missed out on. For the way their father had run away the moment their emotions had become known like a damnable coward. That had been a choice Hallow had been denied, they couldn't say no-yet this day, for the first time, they had asked for their father to stop.

And he had listened.

The Pale King let Hallow get out everything they'd needed to, to calm down and recover from… whatever it was that he'd been doing to them. <This one doesn't want to be experimented on again, or studied. This place, it brings back bad memories for it.> Hallow spoke, in a shaking mental voice. <It is painful for this vessel to be here.>

"Oh, Vessel. I had no idea it was that upsetting. Let's go to my study, then so you don't have to be here. You never have to come in here again." The King promised and led the shaking knight from that terrible place.

They settled down in a chair this time, the king likewise going seated. "I will apologize. That was too far, I needed to explain what I was doing and why-to ask for your permission. It's not easy to break old habits. I noticed you dropped first-person pronouns in your stress." He spoke frankly with sadness.

<This one supposes not. It felt like it was… dying.> Hallow shuddered. <Did you pull this vessel away to speak, or was it to satisfy that curiosity?> They asked tiredly.

"A bit of both, admittedly. To ask you how you're feeling, but that's… obvious, right now and is very much my doing." He sighed and leaned forward. "I'll have to be invasive one more time, I'm afraid but perhaps not this day, to let you recover. I need to set you free and I intend to."

<You'll… free this one from its bondage?> Hallow rephrased in mild disbelief.

"Yes. As my final order in that bondage, for the rest of your life should something happen and I am unable to undo that binding-I order you to act of your own free will and feelings, as you see fit and judge is right. I relinquish control over your will and mind. There will need to be magic done to completely remove the binding, but it will no longer function."

<It will thank you, father once this one is wholly free.> Hallow spoke diplomatically. They couldn't exactly forgive him entirely yet if the harm was still there.

"I understand. You are a higher being now, truly. While you could read the language of the gods and make things function that are for gods, you didn't have a few aspects that would elevate you from a child of higher beings to purely one yourself. However, you do not have worshippers and as much distaste as I have for the god that was, that will need to change for your own health."

<That must be why the Lord of Shades said they were very, very starved. Speaking of, father. Why are you starved?> The vessel spoke pointedly. <This one believes they can ask some pointed questions and get answers in return. You owe it at least that much.>

"I. Eating is a currently disgusting endeavor to me. Certainly, I did like it once and ate but. Since the vessel project started, my. My enjoyment became nil." He replied honestly. "My shame steals the joy out of anything I do."

"I do not regret having you for a child. I regret that I killed so many and the crimes committed against the siblings who didn't make it. I regret how I've treated you. I don't know if I could make it up to the survivors but I will at the least try for the time I have and make sure your siblings do not go through the struggles you did." The king chose his words carefully. "I believed I had no other recourse. No other choice that wouldn't see my people dead or entirely enslaved to the Old Light-but I do not think I deserve forgiveness for being a kinslayer, for my mistreatment of you. I have been something to you for sixteen years. Would have been that for two years more, so you could have your final moulting and complete your training. I would have nailed that armor to your carapace and left you to her tender mercies. In that, I was wrong. I intended to kill myself once I was sure my people were safe and could carry on in my absence."

<It knows. It realized that when it went down into the Abyss before becoming the Shade Lord.> The vessel spoke, voice thick with pain. <You're dying, aren't you father. That's why you don't mind sacrificing yourself to the Grimm Troupe either. You are dying and you want to die.>

"I've done too much to live or to allow myself the pleasures in living. The situation in Hallownest is my fault. Your pain is my fault. The many, many broken masks in the Abyss are my fault. I am a kinslayer, who committed infanticide of his own children. Even a god doesn't get forgiveness for those kinds of horrible actions. I deserve the suffering you children experienced. I deserve the deaths I visited upon the children I deemed not good enough. Yes. I am suffering void poisoning, it is an agony I bear constantly. My light holds it at bay enough that I can live five more years without drastic actions." He spoke bluntly.

"Exposure to void with proper protections isn't deadly. A bug can be scarred by void without dying, in fact the exposure can have beneficial effects such as on the ageless mask maker. Void poisoning in mild cases caught early enough is treatable. So I suppose yes. I did that to myself deliberately." He spoke numbly. "It's… actually a relief to admit that. I wasn't expecting that."

<It's not treatable now. You're dying. How long do you have left?> Hallow felt like the ground was opening beneath their feet.

"No, even I will succumb to a case this severe having gone on this long. Five to seven years, depending." Wyrm spoke clinically. "Your mother doesn't know, but she's not very curious and finds my company odious these days. I don't want her to know."

<You aren't the only one. Would you die as a member of the Grimm Troupe?> Hallow pondered.

"No, time is frozen in a sense for a member of the Troupe. As a sacrifice, my original body would likely be immolated, the presence of void cast out as anathema to it as well. It's not got a will of its own so expelling it for the Nightmare Heart would be doable. It's just not for me between having a corpus much closer to mortal form and my diminishment as a god."

Hallow rubbed a hand over their chest. <Father, please free this vessel today. Now.> It was firm. <This vessel just wants to love you as themself. Not as your property, as your child. Whatever you have done, it does not know if it can forgive, but love. Love is something this vessel has always been able to give.>

The first time Hallow had ever demanded anything for themself and only themself.

Tears came from the king's eyes. "As you wish, Lord of Shades my child."

The bindings lit up as the king touched, claws digging into the mask with a strange sensation that felt like it should hurt but didn't. The light burned, the mark burned. But the claws were quick, chanting even and fast. Soul pooled around the king's hands.

The chains broke and Hallow felt a weight come off, something they hadn't realized had been there for a very long time. The remnants would be there, like an invisible scar until they moulted, but then-then it would be gone.

It would take time for them to understand what they'd gained and lost at once. <Today I learned that this one's father is not brave. Please. Please live. Even if your crimes are too much for your heart to bear. Stop running away. Please. Face what you have done, face us who you have wronged. It's not too late.>

"...I can try. I love you, my child." He touched foreheads with Hallow, a familial kiss. "For all you vessels, I will try. I don't know how anymore, but I can still learn."

Hallow is not an adult. They are, however, now free of their father's chains.

#hollow knight #hk pure vessel #hk pale king #the choice

18 notes · View notes

asunshinepuff · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets of the Darkened Seas

🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter three! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!

She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves.

Especially since this chapter includes some of her own ocs in addition to my own! There’s a lot of new faces to join us! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we’ve both worked so hard to create our ocs and I wouldn’t dare want to take credit away from her.

As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.

The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!

Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter!

Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!

If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻‍♀️

Small warning at the start here, there is a minor character death included in this chapter.

Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks

Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way, there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl.

Now at seventeen summers old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man.

Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. His medium length tawny colored hair flowed around him in the cool waters. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became.

As he reached the seafloor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the seagrass. Looking up, the seagrass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea.

Remus’ head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface.

Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck.

In an instant, a tall beautiful greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea-blue off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheath, and its hilt had the detailing of a trident.

“Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback were spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”

Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend.

“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.

Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out.

Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”

Two-quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats.

Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch-black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past.

The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.

The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready, and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore.

Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move.

Up close the lighthouse was rather beautiful for its old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house.

Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.

A middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin, and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake.

He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother.

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”

Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”

“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course, I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully, father is using the basement to his advantage.”

“Quinn, this is your father, of course, he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs.

The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding.

The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to its twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual.

Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, a notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.

Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door.

Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle-aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light-colored skin, and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants, and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no motion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away.

Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder.

“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.

“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”

The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”

“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple.

“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.”

“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down at it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”

Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here.

“This book is the only one in existence.” The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book.

“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days.

At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.

“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”

Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well-kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid-turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks at Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple.

“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!”

“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner.

Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!”

“Quinton Scamander is my real name,” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?”

“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.

“Oh, you wound me, mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince.

“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.

As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only the Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.

Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from a rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.

Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back.

Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? he had asked.

“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship and found two gorgónes. Mermaids. Brought them back to The Dragon’s Pearl, then snuck onto the Ophiuchus, rescued the second Black heir and brought him back as well.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How that was possible, I have no idea.”

“Sounds about right,” Newt replied with a chuckle.

The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked at each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?”

Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?”

“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.

“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.

“I will,” Opal replies with a nod.

“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.”

The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so please. If there’s any way you could help.”

“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt.

“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”

Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful Asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like misshapen spots, with white scales as the base, her fluke was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.

The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in disarray, brown eyes, light sun-kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.

Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door.

There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand.

Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…”

Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest.

“Ethan’s dead.”

Tag List: (Let me know if you wish to be added!)

@whataboutmyfries

@sunflowerfox87

@spookypotato

#wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #quinn scamander #min-jun hua #opal teresi #newt scamander #tina goldstein #minor character death #mysterious mers #orion black #fenrir greyback #asunshinepuff ocs #ladynightmare ocs #our ocs #pirate captian #pirate and mermaid au

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lightsinthedistancee · 4 years ago

Text

Fragmented Memories: Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: “He’d put up with the screaming, the crying, the depressive attitudes. He’d tolerated your initial hostility, the way you flinched when he touched you. He took care of you, made sure you ate, got you to sleep. Your love had stuck by you through all of it.”

Poe sticks by Reader through a traumatic event in her life.

Warnings: Implications of Past Sexual Assault, Smut, Profanity

If you wished to be tagged on future works, just leave a comment/reply below or do the form on my masterlist for specific preferences.

A/N (PLEASE READ): Hey guys, I don’t know exactly why I was compelled to write this piece, but I did my research. Tbh, I was hesitant on posting this due to the sensitivity of the subject. Belittling, devaluing, or misrepresenting the experience/struggle of a sexual assault survivor is something I absolutely do not want to do. I am fortunate enough to not have experienced any sexual assault/harassment in my life, meaning I don’t know this experience first hand. If you have any knowledge or find any inaccuracies, feel free to let me know in a comment, and I will fix it. If anyone finds this offensive or as a gross misrepresentation, I will take it down out of respect for that person without hesitation. Enjoy!

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

You laid on top of him, your pilot, your love. Sometimes hovering, sometimes resting your whole weight on his form. The air was warm, firm, like a sheet of protectiveness conforming to you. His breath was hot on your skin as he let out soft, unashamed whimpers occasionally.

You peppered soft kisses along his neck and jaw, savoring the feeling of his hands roaming your body, caressing you, feeling you. His touch was gentle, like smooth silk and velvet on your nerves.

He moaned as you ground down on him, feeling his hardness that complemented the desire you felt. You hadn’t felt that desire in a long time—for a particular reason.

This was your first time.

But no, not like that. Not in the sense of what ‘first time’ generally meant.

This was the first time the two of you had made love upon your return from the captivity of the First Order. Your first time after you’d been violated, defiled, made to feel worthless. Like nothing. After having your body used without your permission.

You’d returned a shell of yourself, doing your job for the Resistance with a ruthless, cutthroat efficiency, for you’d blocked everything else in your head out. Locked it all up. But the damming of all your emotions had its side effects.

Poe had put up with the screaming, the crying, the depressive attitudes. He’d tolerated your initial hostility, the way you flinched when he touched you. He took care of you, made sure you ate, got you to sleep. Your love had stuck by you through all of it.

You’d treated him like dirt at first, like something you wanted to get rid of, but simply couldn’t shake. The memory still triggered a guilt in you over a year later. Still, he’d stayed, had held strong as the stability and anchor in your life.

Sex had been unfathomable for the first year, and he’d respected that. He never pushed you, and he never urged you to do things you didn’t want to. Before your capture, your time spent between sheets with him had been passionate, caring, all fiery desire.

And then, it’d faded to nothing upon your return.

Recovery started small at first. A few weeks for you to let him kiss you. A month to let him hug you. Four months for you to let him see you naked again. Six to let him sleep in the same bed as you. Thirteen to let him go down on you again.

And all that led to here, where you were pressed against him, fingers intertwined as his fingers worked their magic between your legs, coaxing out your wetness.

“Alright, baby girl?” he murmured, checking in on you.

You nodded. The two of you had talked of this for weeks before the present moment. What was off limits, what made you uncomfortable, what was absolutely forbidden. “Very alright.”

When you started to moan and move your hips back against his hand, he sat up, pulling you close to his chest. “Ready?” His soft brown eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of discomfort or uncertainty. His concern made you adore him all the more.

You nodded in response to his query, the pleasure at your core begging to be acted upon. He made you feel safe. He always did.

“If you need me to stop, just say something. You need to talk to me.”

“I know.” You said it with a resolute conviction, trusting him in every way. Despite your trauma, a part of your brain still recognized him as the man who had saved your life countless times, who had consoled you in your darkest moments, who had loved you when you felt unlovable.

And with your readiness, you slowly sank down onto him. The feeling was overwhelmingly familiar, in both a good and bad way. It reminded you of passionate nights nearly a year and a half ago. It also reminded you of cold prison cells that came with an impending dread of some guard of officer walking in to have their way with you.

You didn’t realize that you’d zoned out. You came back to reality at the sound of him saying your name. His hands were on your cheeks, gently grasping your face. “Do we need to stop?” he asked, his eyes worried.

You shook your head, both in response and as a way to rid yourself of the dark memories. “No. I’m fine.”

He frowned. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, offering up a small smile and rolling your hips slightly to prove your point. He gasped, gripping your hips, his face buried in your neck.

He let you determine the pace, giving you the control, letting you do things on your own terms. You were moaning, letting out soft whines every time your clit brushed his pelvis. Only when your hands began to claw at his back did he begin to experimentally thrust back, gauging your reactions. All you did was moan louder.

Soft mutters of your name escaped his lips as he breathed shakily. He hadn’t been with anyone else. He would never cheat on you. Needless to say, it’d been a long time since he’d been inside someone, and he wasn’t going to last long.

But you were closer. He’d already had you fairly close to your finish before he’d slid inside you, and each touch to your clit was bringing you nearer and nearer until you were gasping his name. “Fuck, Poe…I’m gonna….” You were unable to finish your sentence before you were going rigid, riding out the waves of your pleasure as he groaned at the feel of your walls clenching around him.

That was the last straw for him, and with one more thrust, he came, his hands knotted in your hair.

You breathed hard as you laid limp on his chest, still feeling the dull throb between your legs. He shifted, lying down and taking you with him, holding you close to him. It reminded you of how desperately you’d missed this: to feel close to someone after sharing such an intimate act.

But as the dopamine and oxytocin wore off, a feeling of horror and something slightly worse began to set in. Fragmented memories flashed through your mind, disconnected, incomplete, yet still enough to set you off.

And then, you were crying. Soft, silent tears, so small and undetectable and helpless that Poe did not even notice them till he felt the liquid on his chest.

You knew that he was, above all, panicked, due to his body language. He said your name like a question, a plea for you to assure him that he was not the reason for you tears.

He was, but only indirectly. At the core of the situation, was you. You and your trauma that made you despise yourself every day for not being able to get over. That you beat yourself up for. You knew that it was a normal reaction, that there was nothing wrong with it, but a part of you would always sum it up as your weakness.

Poe was talking to you, but you barely heard any of it. Only hid behind the veil of your tears.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. His hold around you now seemed hesitant, unsure of his actions. You rolled out of his arms, settling on the other side of the mattress curled in a ball. The skin-on-skin contact, all of a sudden, felt less like a comfort and more like a threat. “Baby….”

You didn’t respond, once again locking him out.

There was a feeling coming over you, one you were all too familiar with, a feeling of isolation and desperation. It was a feeling that nothing else existed: that it was just you, your trauma, and your pain. Dear old abusers that would seemingly be with you till the very end.

..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

““Fragmented Memories” originally posted on AO3 on 12/24/20.

Taglist: @synical-paradox @dark-academics-and-florals

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #star wars #poe dameron fanfiction #Star Wars fanfiction #tfa #tlj #tros

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khoicesbyk · 4 years ago

Text

Beloved.

A/N: I'm officially obsessed with Wolf Bride and what does one do when she's obsessed with a certain book? She writes an AU about it! 😁 So, Talley Ho! *in my Sherlock Holmes voice*

Rated: Mature. | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual from me. 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: Roman (LI) and Naia Evans (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and certain original characters, created by me) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 3,970 words. (more or less. I stop counting after editing and re-editing. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

Prompt Time! Using @theworldofprompts story prompt of “You get put into an arranged marriage, only to find that the person you're engaged to....is a shapeshifter.”

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here

Song And Story Inspiration: Burn Slow-Ro James. | Survivor-2WEI feat Edda Hayes

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @choiceslady @txemrn @pixie88 @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @lucy-268 @bebepac @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @otherworldlypresents @hopefulmoonobject @theworldofprompts @choicesficwriterscreations

This series is rated Mature. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

This series may contain spoilers. If you wish not to see spoilers, please do not read any further.

(Also this series is a slight deviation of the original story. In the original story, the werewolf hunter is a woman. But in this series the hunter is a man.)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you. 😁😘

Chapter 6.) Burn Slow.

Oohh... Shit… How you wanna feel? Do you want it raw? Do you want it real? Ima give it to ya. Ima give it to ya real honest. Yeah...

You ain't never had it like this before. Roll in my sheets while we rolling paper. Trying to get you higher than them scrapers. Catching vibes, catching vapors. You should call in sick. You should call in favors. I promise...

When Naia came to Hunt’s Peak it was to learn why her mother left and why she never wanted to talk about it. Never in a million years did she think that she’d meet Roman, who is the man she had been dreaming about for weeks. Nor did she think she’d meet Trent. A mystery man that enchanted her the first time she met him.

She definitely didn’t think she’d be kidnapped. But that’s exactly what happened. She was in the back of a white van with a hood over her head and her feet bound by zip ties. She had no idea where they were or where they were taking her. Wherever they were it was off road because she felt every bump they went over.

“Ow dammit!” She hissed as she hit her head on the floor.

When the van came to a sudden stop, Naia had one plan. She was going to run like hell and not look back. When the doors opened she knew it was now or never.

“Come! It’s time for the preparations to begin!” The man commanded.

“Eat a dick! I’m not going anywhere!” She hissed.

“We’re wasting time!” The woman said to her.

“Does it look like I care? Matter of fact does it sound like I care?” Naia asks.

Rather than answer, the man yanked Naia out of the van and threw her over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” Naia shouted.

The two ignored her as they walked her down a strange path. Naia tried but couldn’t wriggle herself out of his grip.

“Goddamn this idiot is stronger than he looks. But I have to get away! I need to get away.” Naia thought to herself as she struggled to get free.

They came to a stop and the next thing Naia knew, she was being thrown onto a bed.

“SERIOUSLY?!”

Neither one answered her, instead the woman ripped the zip ties off with a yank. It scared Naia to witness how strong both of them were.

“This is where you will be until the ceremony at sundown.” The man told her.

“Sundown?! You can’t just leave me here!”

Both left her in the room alone, scared and confused.

She looked around the room to get her bearings, it was set up like a guest bedroom. Complete with candles on the wall, a plush bed and a fireplace. The room had no windows and the entrance was a stone door that she couldn’t move.

“I came all the way to West Virginia to learn why my mom left and I got kidnapped!” She says to herself.

Naia was just about to give up before remembering that her cell phone was in her pocket. When she pulled it out though, there was no signal.

“Well this is absolutely peachy!” She fussed.

As she looked around the room, she found herself slightly impressed.

“Not my taste but not bad.” Naia thought to herself.

She didn’t know what it was but something called her to the bed. She wasn’t tired but she felt the pull to rest. When she laid down her mind was lulled into a peaceful rest. It didn’t take long for her to doze off and dream.

You ain't never had it like this before. So don't you lie. Don't you tell me that you gotta go to work baby. Cause I can pay you for the whole week in bed. I just wanna get lost with you. That mean you belong to me. I wanna wake up.

Waking up to you in the morning. It's better than sunrise. So we can keep the curtains closed. Just light a few more candles and burn em' slow. Baking up with you in the morning. Trying to get a little rewind. Cause I ain't really ready to let you go. No no no no no No no no… Just light a few more candles and burn em' slow.

Elsewhere Roman was preparing for the ceremony himself. With Noemi at his side, Roman was eager to prepare.

“My my! You are eager, my child.” She said to him. She was like a grandmother to him.

“Indeed I am. I have waited for this day for so long, Speaker.”

“What are you most eager about Roman?” She asks.

“It is our bonding ceremony, Speaker. We will finally be together. I am eager to finally welcome her home.” He replied.

“This is indeed a momentous occasion. But, we mustn’t rush, you must remember that she knows not of our ways.”

“She can learn, yes?” He asked.

“Of course she can. But you mustn’t force her. It will only cause her to recoil and reject.”

“I understand, Speaker.”

“Very good. Now let us prepare.”

Oohh... Shit… Girl that Honey Jack put us on our back. When we on our back we get back to that action. Pour up Pour up. And let us take another round down. So we can get in another round. Yeah… I don't need no breakfast 'less it's you on my face. (Then we wake and we bake)

Waking up to you in the morning. It's better than sunrise. So we can keep the curtains closed. Just light a few more candles and burn em' slow.

Baking up with you in the morning. Trying to get a little rewind. Cause I ain't really ready to let you go. No no no no no No no no… Just light a few more candles and burn em' slow.

Noemi had Roman wade into the sacred springs as she prepared him.

“Mother Earth! Hear my call. Prepare my child for the bond of his Beloved. Open their hearts, minds and souls to receive one another.”

Roman inhaled then exhaled slowly as he closed his eyes. The Primal Magic flooded his being and guided his thoughts and soul to hers. He was transported to her dream. He was in the woods as was she.

Naia didn’t know how she wound up in the woods at night but she wasn’t scared. In fact she felt giddy because this time she was human. She was eager to run. What started out as a brisk walk turned into a jog, that turned into a sprint that turned into a full run.

She felt free as she ran through the woods. The wind in her face and the ground underfoot gave her a sense of invincibility. She felt like nothing could stop her. As she ran, she heard the sound of water. Whether it was the river or the creek she wasn’t sure. But, she followed the sound. She felt the water calling to her.

When she came out of the woods she came to the edge of a lake with a waterfall. She was out of breath but exhilarated. She closed her eyes and let the sound of the roaring waterfall soothe her.

Even with her heart thundering in her chest, she felt this strange sense of calmness. When she opened her eyes and looked out on the water she saw Roman. Only he wasn’t himself, he was a werewolf. He was huge, monstrous and beautiful. He held out his massive hand to her.

“Beloved…”

His voice was a low growl. And it should’ve terrified her but instead she trusted him. She walked to him and wrapped her arms around him and felt his arms embrace her. Her trust in him is strong and absolute. She felt safe, she felt loved and when he stepped back from her, she felt powerful. She watched him throw his massive head back and howl. It was commanding and made the woods around them come alive. When he looked at her with his now golden eyes, she woke up.

When Roman opened his eyes, they were golden and determined.

“Did you see her, my child?” Noemi asked.

“I did.” He replies.

“Are you ready?” She asks.

“Yes. Begin the ceremony.” He replied as he waded out of the springs.

Cause I ain't really ready to let you go. No no no no no… Then we wake and we bake. Waking up to you in the morning. So we can keep the curtains closed. Keep em' closed. Let's burn baby.

Baking up with you in the morning. Rewind Rewind… I just wanna get lost with you. No no no no no No no no… Just light a few more candles and burn em' slow. Ooh Shit…

Naia shot up in the bed breathing heavily with her heart pounding. She frantically looked around the room and quickly remembered where she was. She didn’t know what just happened but whatever did happen in that dream felt real. She was face to face with a werewolf. She was in the arms of a werewolf.

“Impossible. Werewolves don’t exist.” She thought to herself as she tried to make sense of her dream.

That’s when she heard the stone door move and the man and woman who brought her there entered the room.

“It’s time. The ceremony is beginning!” was all he said.

Naia knew that fighting them was pointless. So, she decided to play along for now and she would find a way to escape later. She followed them out of the room which was connected to a corridor inside a large cave. She saw what was a makeshift kitchen, other pieces of furniture and a massive fireplace. It looked like the living room of The Flintstones.

When she stepped outside with them, it was nighttime. She had been asleep for hours, yet it only felt like she had a 20 minute nap. Naia followed the man and woman through the woods, formulating her escape plan as they walked.

Thought I couldn't breathe without you. I'm inhaling. You thought I couldn't see without you. Perfect vision. You thought I couldn't last without you. But I'm lastin'. You thought that I would die without you. But I'm livin'. Thought that I would fail without you. But I'm on top. Thought it would be over by now. But it won't stop. Thought that I would self destruct. But I'm still here. Even in my years to come. I'm still gon' be here.

They arrived at what she thought was a poor man’s Stonehenge. She saw people standing around the stones and a large fire, chanting in a language that she couldn’t understand. All she knew was she had to find a way to get the hell out of there.

“Ooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy…I’m in a cult. Yup I’ve been kidnapped into a cult.” She said quietly. Or so she thought.

“Quiet girl! This is no time for jokes!” The man snapped at her, before he and the woman joined the group that was chanting.

Naia looked around for a way to escape. And when she found it she knew all she had to do was turn around and run. That’s when she saw Roman. He was dressed in leather and body paint. When they locked eyes her heart did backflips. He took her breath away.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaamn! This is creepy as all hell but sheesh! He’s fine as wine!” She thought to herself as she looked at him. She couldn’t help but notice every last one of his muscles.

There was something about him that turned her fear into curiosity. Any plan she had to run like hell was gone. She just stood there frozen in place. Her eyes never left him.

“We have been waiting for you.” He said to her. His voice was low and commanding. As the others around them chanted, Roman spoke again.

“Precious Mother Earth, we have gathered here to welcome Naia home to us. With her now returned to us the Pack is and will be stronger. We will thrive with her among us. We thank you! We worship you! May you live and flourish within us all.”

Naia thought she was seeing things when she watched his eyes turn golden. Roman had his arms outstretched to her.

“Come to me Beloved…”

“Roman I—“

She felt like she was in a trance by his words as she walked to him. She felt she was a puppet that was being controlled by someone else. She was beyond terrified but at the same time she felt that fear was irrational. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. Nor would he ever allow anyone else to hurt her. She knew she was safe as long as she had him.

When she felt his arms wrap around her, she felt like she did in her dreams. Loved, desired, needed and wanted. She felt at home in his arms. She could feel his warmth, love and devotion for her as they stood locked in each other’s arms. Whatever thought she had of running for the hills was long gone.

“Do not be afraid, Beloved. I’m here.”

“I don’t understand how any of this is happening.”

He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. His gaze was deep and smoldering and made her knees weak. As weird and frightening as all of this was to her, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but there in his arms. He rested his head against hers which put her at ease. Listening to his breathing calmed her own.

“Welcome home Beloved.” He whispered softly to her.

She looked up at him and was lost in his eyes. He took advantage of the moment and kissed her. The passion, force, intensity and power behind his kiss was intoxicating. She wanted more. She needed more. She wanted him. Their kiss ended because something was wrong. She felt a pull towards someone else. It was powerful enough to make her stagger.

“Beloved? What is it?” He asked her.

“Roman…something…is…wrong…” she replies before losing consciousness.

When she woke up the next morning, she was dizzy, disoriented and her head was pounding. Thankfully Roman was by her side.

“Beloved are you awake?” He asked her.

“Yes.” She said in a voice just above a whisper. She was holding the side of her head.

“Are you hurt?” He asked.

“It’s just a headache.” She replies.

“Still…drink.”

He handed her a cup of water. After drinking the water she was able to get her bearings.

“How did I wind up back in this room?” She asked.

“This is our room.” He replies.

“Our room? Where are we?” She asks.

“The den Beloved.” He replied.

“I was here earlier. I was brought and left here.”

“Yes I know. I apologize for that.”

“You knew I was here and never said anything?!” She asked.

“Yes but let me explain. I gave Jett and Isobel the command to bring you here.” He replies.

“You mean you told them to kidnap me?” She asked.

“Yes I did. I had no idea that they would treat you the way that they did. And for that I am deeply sorry. I want you to know that I have no reason to lie to you, Naia.” He replied.

Naia sat completely still trying to process what Roman had just told her. He openly and honestly admitted to having her kidnapped. And she needed to know why.

I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up. I'm not gon' stop, oh. I'm gon' work harder. I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up. I'm not gon' stop, oh. I'm gon' work harder. I'm the survivor. I'm gonna make it. I will survive. Keep on survivin'.

“If you wanted to see me all you had to do was ask.” She said with a teasing smirk.

“I can’t apologize to you enough. How can I make it up to you?” He asks while taking her right hand in his. His touch was electric and warmed her skin.

“Tell me why I was brought here? What is all of this?” She asked.

“Today was our bonding ceremony, Beloved.” He replies.

“Our bonding ceremony? I don’t understand. What does that mean?” She asked.

“Our hearts, our minds and our souls are connected forever. We are bonded until the end of time.” He replies.

“Like an arranged marriage?” She asks.

“Not exactly. Just an awakening of what was always meant to be between us. You are mine Naia and I am yours. Always and forever.” He replies.

“I believe you. As weird as all of this is to me.”

She could feel the sincerity in his voice. Something in his tone and poster relaxed her. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was intrigued by him.

“Come. It is time for you to meet your people, Naia.”

He stood up holding his hand out to her.

“Let me show you what you were meant to find.”

She took his hand trusting him just as she did in her dreams. She spent the day getting to know everybody. Most like Layla, Callum, Noemi and Grayson seemed nice while others like Isobel, Jett and Barrett left much to be desired. By the end of the day, Naia was tired but not sleepy. Not yet anyway. Roman found her sitting in front of the fireplace in the bedroom, lost in her own thoughts.

“You seem distracted, Beloved.”

“Just trying to process everything that I’ve learned today. That’s all.”

“Come. Allow me to show you something.”

They walked out of the den and to a clearing in the surrounding woods. When they sat down in the grass, they looked up and saw the stars clear as day.

“I wanted to show you this.”

“It’s beautiful! I love to stargaze.”

“Do you Beloved?” He asks.

“Yes! My daddy bought me a telescope when I was a kid and we would look up at the stars with it. My love for the stars inspired my tattoo.” She replies.

He cocked an eyebrow at her then asked, “you have a tattoo?”

She gave him a small smile before moving her hair out of the way, to reveal a tattoo of butterflies and stars along the back of her left shoulder blade.

“It’s beautiful. What does it mean?” He asks.

“The stars represent my dreams and the butterflies represent freedom. And together they mean the freedom to follow my dreams.” She replies.

They went back to looking at the stars. She felt him wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to his chest. She relished in the warmth that came from being close to him. When a shooting star streaked across the sky, both looked up.

“Make a wish, Naia.” He whispered softly in a husky voice. She closed her eyes and made a wish.

“What did you wish for?” He asked.

“I’m not telling you! That would ruin the wish.” She replies.

“I bet that I can guess what you wished for.”

“Oh yeah? What did I wish for Roman?” She challenged him.

He tilted her chin up and kissed her. The kiss was soft yet deep and powerful. For the second time in less than a day, Roman took her breath away. When the kiss ended she was desperate for him.

“That is what you wished for Beloved.” He whispered against her lips.

“Damn…you’re good.”

While her brain was screaming for her to run, her heart kept her in his arms. She was right where she needed to be in that moment. A yawn indicated that she was getting tired.

“It’s late. You should rest.”

“I am not the least bit sleepy.” She said as she yawned again.

“Come Beloved.”

“But I want to stay out here with you.” She whined.

He shook his head at her and smiled. She was perfect to him.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was getting sleepy. It only took 20 minutes for her to doze off. He tightened his arms around her. In one motion, he stood up with her in his arms. He carried her back to the den and put her to bed.

When she woke up the next morning, Roman was gone. As she scanned the room she noticed a giant paw print on the ground. But there wasn’t a dog in sight. The print was wider than her hand.

“Ooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy apparently there are very big dogs here too…this place just gets weirder and weirder.” She thought to herself as she walked into the main den.

“There you are!” Layla called out to her.

“Layla! You’re here too?” Naia asked.

“I live here.” She replied proudly.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all of this?” Naia asked.

“Because much like everyone else, I thought you already knew. I heard about what happened.” Layla replies.

“You thought I knew about this?” Naia asked.

“I thought your uncle told you that the bonding ceremony would happen.” Layla replies.

“So he knew about this too? Who doesn’t know?” Naia asks, clearly frustrated.

“To be honest, I’m sure the whole town knows.” Layla replies with a shrug.

“Yuuuuup. This whole place is weird. Just weird.”

Layla chuckled.

“How has Roman treated you?” Layla asks.

“He’s made me feel comfortable and welcomed and he’s given me space.” Naia replied.

“Well that explains the look on your face.”

Naia blushed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Uh huh. Then why are your cheeks flushed?” Layla asks.

“They aren’t flushed.” Naia replies in protest.

Layla just smirked at her.

“Where is everyone?” Naia asked.

“On a hunt. They’ll be back soon.” Layla replies.

The two chatted and laughed until the Pack returned from a successful hunt.

Later that evening, Naia found herself walking along a creek watching the sun set behind the clouds. That’s when she ran into Trent.

“Naia! There you are!” He said in relief.

“Where else would I be?” She asks.

“I went by your uncle’s place and he said he hasn’t seen you in days. So I figured I’d check near the den to see if you were there.” He replied.

“Well yeah. That’s where I’ve been.”

“Are you alright? Have they hurt you?” He asked.

Naia noticed the panicked urgency in his voice.

“I’m fine and no, they haven’t hurt me.” She replied.

“We have to get you out of here! You’re in danger.”

“From what?” She asks.

“Roman isn’t who you think he is. He’s dangerous Naia. You need to get away now.” He replies.

“What are you doing here?” Roman asks. His voice was booming. And he was flanked by Callum, Jett and Barrett.

“Naia’s coming with me. I’m sure you won’t have a problem with that. After all, you were the one who had her kidnapped!” Trent snapped at him.

“Leave now!”

“Happily! As long as she comes with me.”

“Do NOT test me Trent!”

“Or what?” Trent asked, challenging Roman.

Before Naia could intervene, Roman let out a howl and started to transform along with the others. The muscles on his body contorted, claws and hair sprouted as he grew bigger. Naia watched in complete horror as Roman went from human to a full on werewolf right before her eyes. Trent on the other hand drew his gun.

“Well! Well! Well! If it ain’t the Big Bad Wolf! I wondered when you’d make an appearance.” Trent said, almost giddy.

“She…is…mine!” Roman growled.

“HA! Not if I have anything to say about it!” Trent said through gritted teeth.

I'm a survivor. I'm not gon' give up. I'm not gon' stop, oh. I'm gon' work harder. I'm the survivor. I'm gonna make it. I will survive. Keep on survivin'.

Naia stood frozen in absolute fear. She couldn’t believe what she was witnessing. Roman is an actual werewolf.

#choices #pixelberry #choices stories you play #khoicesbyk #choices fanfiction #fanfic #wolf bride #alpha wolf #alpha

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years ago

Text

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Five

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

It was supposed to be simple. Clear out Weston Water Treatment. Start a new settlement at Oberland Station. Backhand wrinkled her nose. Partially in irritation, and partially to ward off the foul smell of super mutant.

“If I'd known the place was infested I wouldn't have agreed to this shit.” She grumbled to the paladin in power armor beside her. “Rob could have been a little more generous with his count, I feel.”

Danse chuckled, “Don't try to act tough, Knight Vega. You're still here, right? It's only a couple of super mutants.”

“A couple, he says.”

A bullet whizzed over her head, interrupting the easy back and forth between the two of them. Danse gritted his teeth and readied his laser rifle. “For the Brotherhood!”

They easily picked off five mutants and two hounds, and Backhand pumped her fist in victory when a sixth mutant fell to Righteous Authority . However, then she heard something that sent her into a panic. Her whole upper body jutted heedlessly out from behind cover, stealth mods deactivated from her motion while she searched frantically for the source of the beeping. “Wait, Paladin wait! ” She yelled, grabbing hold of his arm as he thundered by and barely missing getting her fingers crushed in his elbow joint. His momentum dragged her along with him and she hurriedly dug her boots into the dirt. “There's a fucking-!”

Danse’s huge gauntlet clamped onto one of the many straps on her combat armor and without so much as a look out , he hurled her up over the road and into the deep pond beside the treatment plant. The super mutant suicider screamed in triumph, “ Die, metal man! ”

Backhand landed in the pond with an undignified splash, brown water pouring into her nose and mouth as she sank like a rock to the bottom. The following explosion sent shockwaves through the water and Backhand struggled to hold her breath.

Danse, oh God Danse, please be alright!

She finally broke the surface, eyes stinging from the acrid water. “Paladin Danse!” She coughed, hauling herself back up the banking. Smoking chunks of super mutant were scattered everywhere , green flesh burned brown and black. The suit of power armor was toppled over on its front. “ Danse! ” Backhand almost fell in her haste to get to the paladin, skidding to her knees beside the power armor.

Her Geiger counter started to click loudly.

“Shit, Paladin, c'mon! You've dealt with worse than this, you got cooked by a fucking rocket! Don't do this to me!” She pleaded, fighting with the manual release on the back of the suit. The fusion core was shattered, otherwise she could have just half-twisted the handle and popped him out easy. Backhand was stuck doing this the hard way. “Fucking answer me Paladin, please! ”

“That's not...soldier-appropriate language, Knight.” A choked cough came from the half-crushed helmet. “Can you get the back open? I can't really...it's very heavy in this thing.” He rose onto his knees with one hand propping him up, leaving Backhand more than a little impressed. “A Brotherhood soldier's conditioning requirements are somewhat rigorous, Knight. Now please. The back.” Despite his reassurances he sounded strained.

Backhand tore the plate metal over her knuckles on the rivets around the manual release wheel in her haste to get it undone, breathing a sigh of relief when she finally swung the back plate up out of the way. Danse pulled his head out of his helmet, got to his feet, and promptly collapsed.

Backhand swore again, rolling him over. It seemed like his armor had taken the brunt of the impact but he got rattled around inside it like an old world pinball. She'd griped about the lack of padding in their undersuits the very first time she’d seen them, ‘ stupid military branches, always cutting corners. ’

“Paladin, you still with me?” Backhand Vega, shittiest knight the Brotherhood has to offer. “Why the fuck are all your jumpsuits dark orange and brown , I can't tell whether you're bleeding or not!” She yelled in frustration, mostly to herself. At least that suicider had been the last of the mutants to deal with. “Alright, okay. You're out. Oberland it is.” She sighed when he didn't reply, slinging Righteous Authority across her chest and heaving Danse onto her back. Thank God for all that conditioning work so she'd been able to move her own armor frame back in the day. She may be in shape but Danse was by no means a small man.

Getting over the damn hill to Oberland left Backhand almost spent. Half-carrying, half-dragging him up the station stairs at the end was torment, her calves screaming bloody murder. She dropped him on the bed and left her supply satchel on the ground, rummaging through it for her Stims. Some Rad-X probably wouldn't hurt either, it had been a mini-nuke that exploded next to him.

“Knight Vega...” Danse mumbled blearily a few minutes after she inserted the Stim needle into one of the ports in his jumpsuit, the paladin obviously coming back around.

Backhand couldn’t stop the way she snapped at him. Now that the terror for her companion had faded somewhat, she was left feeling exhausted and irritated. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have been obliterated by that asshole!”

“Where are we?” Danse muttered instead, trying to sit up.

“Oberland. Lay the hell back down, stupid idiots don’t get to sit up.” She pushed his shoulder and Danse’s back hit the mattress with a wheeze of rusty springs. “Don’t move.” She growled, using one of her shoelaces to hang the bag of Rad-X from the rafters and then hitching the end of the tubing to the needle still in his arm. Danse grunted, the dazed look on his face making Backhand extremely nervous. “Paladin, stay conscious.” She waved her fingers in front of his eyes and Danse jerked to attention. “Stay with me.”

“I am, Knight Vega.” He retorted while his eyes drifted shut. “Right here.”

“Ah ah, no napping.” She tapped his cheek and his eyes rolled open again. “Stay with me, Danse.” Backhand repeated, a little softer this time.

“I am , Knight Vega.” Danse murmured. “Endured worse than this, remember?”

“Doesn't mean I'm not going to worry.”

Danse closed his eyes just enough to squint at her. “About me? You’re the one with no power armor. I’m supposed to be managing you , Vega.”

…

“Yeah, frickin’ bang-up job there ked.” Backhand retorted. “Coulda’ lost a hand in your elbow joint when you whipped past me like a bat outta’ hell.”

Danse noted with a faint flash of amusement that apparently her accent thickened when she was wound up. “My hearing is not in peak condition. Specifically, telling where the sound is coming from can be an issue in my helmet. Proctor Ingram can only tweak it so much.”

“That would have been good to know beforehand, Paladin.” Backhand said icily, her motions sharp and angry as she shed her combat armor breastplate. Her gauntlets followed suit, discarded in a pile on the floor. She was soaked to the skin, Danse noticed hazily.

His head was pounding again, vision slowly becoming more and more unfocused. “Tell me about what it was like, Knight. Before the…before the war.” Danse slurred, trying his hardest to change the subject and stay awake.

Backhand bit her lip, pulling the bedroll up a little higher until it was underneath Danse’s chin. He wasn’t sure whether she intended to simply ignore his question.

“It was green.” She said softly, putting his wondering to rest. “There was always someone in your business. People were on top of each other most of the time. I mean, I was in the military so cramped quarters were normal for me, but for civilians…it was pretty hellish. In the mornings once we’d had breakfast, I would take Shaun outside to the front lawn and he would roll around on his little blanket. The neighbors were walking their dogs or mowing the lawn or something, we would all make small talk about the weather.” Backhand stopped talking and sighed heavily, tapping at the bag of Rad-X to keep it flowing.

“What is it, Knight?” Danse hated the cold sweat that always broke out when he took Rad-X, but right now it was a necessary evil.

“I think a lot of folks were a little intimidated by me.” She theorized. “I mean I was a young veteran, and pretty quickly became a single mother. Unheard of. For a while after I moved in I still had the eyepatch from my discharge incident, then a pair of super dark sunglasses, which definitely didn’t defang my appearance.” Her smile was melancholy and she brought her fingers up to her eye, tapping the area beneath it.

The silence stretched on. Danse knew he needed to be patient. It’s not as if he could go anywhere, and it was fascinating to hear about pre-war from someone who had actually been there.

“I told the neighborhood kids that I was a pirate and showed them all how to make newspaper boats and hats so they could be pirates too.” Backhand smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I modified one of my old MLCE packs so I could carry Shaun around the cul-de-sac with me when I jogged. Didn’t have the money for one of those baby carriers or even for a stroller after the divorce, so the pack had to do. He would put his little head down on my chest and sleep. Wasn’t bothered by all the motion or anything, just like his mommy.”

Her pain was still clearly raw, even after however much time had passed. Danse didn’t know what to do, so he wiggled a heavy arm free of the sleeping bag and rested his hand on her own. She squeezed it back wordlessly, her jaw working.

When she spoke again, she sounded more steady. “I can’t say that it was bad . The environment was safe and quiet. Everyone in Sanctuary Hills looked out for one another. Even if it was more motivated by curiosity and nosiness than an actual desire to help.” Backhand mused dryly. “The milkman couldn’t leave an extra bottle on your doorstep without six other people knowing. So exactly like the military.”

“Sounds similar to the Prydwen.” Danse remarked, sick to his stomach a second after he said it. How many people must know about Maxson and I? He realized, swallowing hard to fight the sudden rush of nausea. He hadn’t thought about it at all, more than content with the illusion of privacy one usually maintained in the Brotherhood. The most obvious evidence of their dalliances was the busted mouth Danse always seemed to end up with, and those instances happened far too often for everyone to write it off as Danse just being clumsy or careless when he shaved.

I bumped it. He grimaced as he recalled his weak explanation back on the Prydwen, the way Backhand had narrowed her eyes at him.

Besides, he knew that he’d worn his excuses thin at this point. Trying to explain away the teeth marks Arthur left on his upper arm that one time was more than enough of a chore. He had looked like he’d been savaged by a feral, so at least he could understand the concern to an extent.

“Hey, you alright? All the color just dropped out of your face.” Backhand noticed, her brows drawn in worry.

Danse nodded, fixing his attention on the guttering lantern beside the bed instead of the wrinkles on her forehead. “Tell me more?” He asked eventually.

“I miss the convenience of food. Even with the shortages, there used to be a grocery store on practically every corner.” She sounded wistful. “Shaun hadn’t really started solid foods yet, he was only just beginning to leave the twenty-four-seven nursing program. Not a minute too soon, the little bugger would suck me dry.”

“You breastfed your child? Isn’t that-” Danse stopped himself, feeling uncomfortable. Normally breastfeeding was considered incredibly dangerous, for the baby and the parent. But before, when the radiation wasn’t so prevalent…things must have been different. “It’s none of my business, I suppose.”

“No no, I get it. I know that nowadays trying to raise a child is tough enough without the added dangers of the irradiated environment. It was simpler back then. Could just unbutton your shirt and go to town, instead of having to unbelt all your armor and find a safe spot so that Junior can get lunch in.” Backhand grinned.

Danse flushed a little at her frank speech, sternly telling himself not to dwell on the idea of her with an infant on her knee like some housewife from the pre-war mags. He had no recollection of his own parents, or siblings if he had them. Familial musing was not familiar territory, but it never failed to leave him with a sad ache in his throat. The same ache that assaulted him when he thought of Cutler-

Backhand hissed in pain and Danse snapped out of his slide into melancholy, watching with horror while she peeled off her other glove. “Shit, I didn’t even feel that.” She grimaced, spreading her fingers. The sheet metal on her gloves was ripped through in some areas, and it had apparently taken a few healthy chunks out of her knuckles and the backs of her hands. Blood dribbled over her palm and Danse felt… odd .

“Knight Vega, what happened?” Danse asked in confusion.

“I was in such a hellfire hurry to get you out of your gear and the fusion core in your suit was busted. I uh...I don’t really know.” Backhand admitted. “I went panic mode and muscled the manual release as fast as I could, basically.”

“The manual…” Danse trailed off as she wiped some dried blood away with the hem of her undershirt. “You need to bind that. Your knuckles-”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” She flapped a bloodied hand at him. “I’ve had worse.”

“It’s irrelevant whether you’ve had worse, the fact of the matter is that right now, you’re the one who needs to protect us.” Danse shot back, a little annoyed with her carelessness. “Who knows what could be lurking out there? Everything in the neighborhood must have heard the suicider explosion.”

“Ah, okay. Sorry, I’ll…you think a Stim would put this back together? Or should I save those for later?” She asked hesitantly.

“Did you take any Stims from the Prydwen?”

“No, I didn't want to take any resources from you guys.” Backhand shuffled through her pack, carefully counting out everything that she had. “I only have three Stims left. Wasn't expecting this detour.”

Danse cursed under his breath, pushing to sit up by propping his back against the wall. The Stim that she had given him was doing its job, of course, but it would be several hours before he was fit for duty again. Anything could happen in that time. “Come here.” He ordered, disliking the sideways look she gave him. “Let me see your hands.”

“H-Hey, I'll probably be fine. It's no biggie.” She protested, putting her left hand into his own all the same and then wincing. Danse, his brain jerkily reminding him that he was probably being a little too rough, nearly dropped her hand when he tried to casually loosen his grip. Alright, maybe he did spend more time than necessary in his armor. The truth of the matter is that Danse felt like a raw nerve without the comforting weight of plate metal on his body, exposed and too… soft .

“I'll wrap this.” He decided aloud after several moments of careful manipulation to make sure her fingers weren't broken. Danse flipped open the small pouch by his hip, tugging out a tiny roll of bandaging and a nonstick gauze to dress her knuckles. “What? A Brotherhood soldier is always prepared.” He huffed when he noticed Backhand staring at him.

“I gotta' get one of those.” She said, gesturing at the pouch. “Is that included in the suit? Or do they come separate from the requisitions officer?”

“I can put in a supply order for you, if you'd really like one. It has...look, there's loops here. You could hitch it to your combat armor.” Danse loosened the bag and showed her the plethora of MOLLE straps on the back, chuckling a little when she made a clumsy attempt to snatch it out of his hands. “Mm, nice try. I've been around Haylen and Rhys. You've got nothing on either of them when it comes to pilfering my supplies, Vega.”

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She grinned ruefully. “I really ought to be nice to you. After all, you saved me from pretty certain death.”

“I did?” Danse thought back momentarily and then remembered gauntlet slamming shut on the strap, whichever strap, doesn’t matter, shoulder-ribs, just be enough to hold her weight --He felt his face go hot recalling the unwarranted contact between them. “It was a…reaction. Sometimes I think I move too quickly for my mind to keep up.”

“Lucky for me, I guess! Maybe the Sarge's bandanna is rubbing off on you.” Backhand got to her feet, stretching her arms over her head. She had peeled her Vault suit down and tied the sleeves around her hips again, the fabric pulled tight from her motions.

Danse forced his eyes elsewhere, the sweat on his forehead having nothing to do with the Rad-X. What the hell is the matter with you? He scolded himself. Since when do you ogle women like this?

“Do you think we should stay here tonight, and try to get to your armor tomorrow?” Backhand asked.

“We have to. I’m not leaving it there indefinitely.” Danse cringed as he thought of the state his armor would be in. “I would like to go after it tonight, but I am…not in peak condition.” God , that stung to say. Whether he liked it or not, it was the truth.

“ Hell no, not tonight. I’d rather let you sleep off the Stim and Rad-X, have you in fighting shape bright and early tomorrow morning.” Backhand gave him a look that was actually fond and the ache mounted up in his throat once more. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Put your armor on!” Danse barked as she moved to the door, his voice harsher than he had intended. “You--I-I mean, you need to be prepared, Knight.” He tried to play it off, tried to relax his posture a little. He had nearly stood, shaky fingers crushing the rotted windowsill to try and support his weight.

She waved her bandaged hand at him, as if to say hush , but still buckled her chest plating back on. Danse knew her moments of insubordination should have been worrisome. Had he gotten too complacent, too used to the less stringent requirements of fieldwork?

He did let Rhys and Haylen slide. He just couldn’t stand the two of them dancing around each other anymore, it was maddening. Rhys talked a great game, he always had, but Danse would have to be blind not to notice the knight’s care for their scribe. It wasn't technically against regs, of course, but Danse knew if anything he ought to put his foot down. As their senior ranking officer, if the relationship went south between them he would be dragged into it. It was hard to justify it though, when he saw the two of them all curled up with one another.

Better that they enjoy themselves now. Life could be so incredibly short.

…

“Hey, what’s your deal with the muties?” Backhand asked curiously. He had gotten a boatload of pre-war nonsense out of her, she figured she had earned at least one question. “You lose one of your own to them or something?”

Danse made eye contact and Backhand’s breath caught in her throat. He looked positively worn, fragile , like all the life had gone out of his body. With an expression like that , she expected a great (if sad) story. All she got was a soft “ Yes ,” spoken in a voice thick with emotion.

When it became apparent that that was the end of it, Backhand cleared her throat and readjusted the dingy pipe pistol in her hands. She proceeded to methodically count her bullets, trying not to make him feel like she was waiting for the rest. The experience left her shaken. She had thought Danse to be the typical soldier, but it was obvious now that there was much more to him than that. He clearly cared deeply for the wellbeing and safety of each member of his team, possibly too much for him to escape unscathed. He was one of those , she realized, practically a kindred spirit to her dearly departed senior officer Sergeant Cathan. Courageous, firm, the shelter in the storm. A true embodiment of everything a soldier should strive to be.

“ I could not feasibly promise anything…it was not within my power to promise. ”

She noticed Danse pull the bedroll up around his shoulders as if he was cold. There was a sharp wind that blew through the old station on top of the hill, but Backhand, New Englander to the end, barely felt it. She leaned on the worn bannister of the stairs, her eyes squinted against the darkness as the stars brightened overhead.

There was more rustling from behind her and she assumed that Danse was doing his best to make himself comfortable on the old mattress, his frame a bit… large for the task. Backhand snuck a peek and was relieved to see him curled up in her bedroll, his back to the wall and eyes closed.

She hoped that Paladin Brandis made it to the Prydwen safe and sound (and that her armor was still in one piece). She may have hoped a little harder that Brandis was already giving Maxson a run for his money. The idea of Maxson being thrown off his game made her snicker quietly to herself.

Her good humor faded all too quickly when she recalled that there was nothing keeping them out here and away from the Prydwen once they finished cleaning up Weston. If something shifty was going on between Danse and Maxson, it wouldn’t be long before they were back in the thick of it. She cast another glance at the large man after she heard him mumble something, watching him shift around in the sleeping bag. There was an odd vulnerability to him when he slept, which she remembered all too well from their time in the police station.

The wan sunlight hadn’t woken him as she scribbled her note, but he stirred when she placed the paper down on the floor beside his head. His bedroll was bunched uncomfortably at his elbows and she took a selfish moment to kiss his forehead and then tug the fabric up around his shoulders. It couldn’t hurt, she reasoned with herself. He had hummed in his sleep and snuggled down into the warm embrace of the bedroll. It made it incredibly difficult to leave, even with the two Mister Handy units cheerily patrolling the courtyard. If something happened…

Well, it didn’t really bear thinking about. Backhand had the feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time she and Danse would meet.

…

Backhand woke him for his watch shift at almost exactly two hundred hours. She looked fatigued and Danse ignored the protest of bruises on his body in favor of more quickly freeing up the mattress. “Got it warmed up for you.” He yawned, chuckling when she poked him in the ribs.

“I bet you did, you big furnace.” She teased, her eyelids already drooping. “Nothing to report, sir. All’s been quiet.”

“Carry on, Knight.” Danse saluted out of habit, scooping her combat armor up off the floor and beginning to adjust it to fit his own body. Once he was in some semblance of protective equipment, he snuffed the lantern on the bedside table and took his place at the window. He borrowed Righteous Authority from her, seeing as his rifle was back with his power armor. Probably lying on the ground, covered in super mutant gore. Danse frowned unhappily.

His night vision had always been impeccable, with or without his helmet. Danse scanned the landscape for threats, glad that they at least had the high ground. If anything tried to attack, he would know well before they arrived.

The Commonwealth was almost peaceful at night. Once all the raiders had bedded down with one another and the ferals had retreated to their holes, a tenuous calm reigned that was usually only broken by clans of ambitious super mutants or radscorpions.

Danse rested his weight gingerly on the wall, afraid that it may not be able to support him in its decrepit state. Thankfully it held fast and he relaxed after a moment. His pulse was still quick enough for him to be slightly anxious. It was a normal leftover from using a Stim, but he disliked the feeling; epinephrine and adrenal-sour in his mouth while his heart slammed a tattoo on his ribs.

Danse fought the desire to shake himself, certain that Backhand wouldn’t appreciate being woken up by the percussion of poor-fitting combat armor. Though she had mentioned that her son could sleep through anything, “ just like his mommy .” He imagined being on the front lines, getting your meager rest wherever you could and going for weeks without seeing a real bed would probably do that to a person. Lord knew he had a hard time readjusting to the quiet safety of the Prydwen after clocking lengthy stints of fieldwork or skirmishes with the Enclave.

He had dreamed of Cutler again. Danse exhaled slowly through his nose, fighting the tremble of his hands. Mercifully the dream had faded well before Backhand woke him. He wasn’t sure how he would have reacted to being shaken awake while still in the grasp of his memories. He shook his head, propping the barrel of Righteous Authority up on the windowsill. He couldn’t go on like this, haunted by the echoes of a man who had ceased to be. True, they had a bond. A bond which Danse had naively believed was unbreakable. But when Cutler had gone missing…

Danse was no stranger to horrifying experiences. Centaurs, super mutants and ferals plagued his nightmares, nightmares which inevitably led to an enormous super mutant hive in the Capital Wasteland...

Part Six

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