#if we can take the Violence down to like. A Violent Thought a day instead of the 500 a day that'd be good

[euclydya]

having 2 just up and bap my brain every time an Intrusive Paranoia Thought comes up and my new s year resolution is to ingrane it into my deranged mind that Negative Self Thoughts Fuckig Bad. i am going 2 try this Soo hard. ok

[reiderwriter]

hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3

Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕

Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:

It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 

“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 

“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 

“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 

“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 

“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 

You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 

“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 

It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 

But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 

“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 

The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 

Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 

Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 

“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.

“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 

“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 

“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 

His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 

He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 

He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 

He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 

“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 

“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 

Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 

He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 

Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 

Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 

He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 

He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 

It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 

“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 

You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 

Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 

You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 

“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 

When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 

You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 

“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 

And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 

[suiana]

Can we get a delinquent yandere fic?

I love your writing so so much, I can’t get enough of it!<3

sounds super interesting! btw I'll be doing headcanons instead of a fic because headcanons are more of my speciality 🥲 I'll try writing a fic soon though

✎ yandere! delinquent headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― violence, possessiveness etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! delinquent who absolutely hated your guts. fucking hell! why did you, the student council president, have to always interfere in whatever he's doing?! don't you have better things to do???

✎ yandere! delinquent who always has a scowl on his face when he comes to school. god damnit! why were you the one on duty checks almost every single day?? you keep making him tuck in his shirt and it looks fucking nerdy! you're such a pissy president, god!

✎ yandere! delinquent who always lands himself in detention because of his violent actions against you. but he didn't expect you to be so strong? how can you, a tiny and annoying president, block his slap??? he's so much bigger than you too??? how do you have so much strength in your body??? why does he find it sort of hot??? must be the hormones...

✎ yandere! delinquent who fell for you after you absolutely demolished him in a taekwondo match. what the fuck?! how the hell did you manage to win against him?? you even have a black belt??? that's so hot???

✎ yandere! delinquent who doesn't really hate you that much anymore. he starts treating you with more respect and a hint of gentleness. he still hates you but not like he used to. when I tell you, this delinquent absolutely LOVES people who are physically stronger than him

✎ yandere! delinquent who is always requesting for a rematch. like he would literally just barge into your class in the middle of a lesson to get you to fight him. and then he gets humbled. badly. it's a vicious cycle unfortunately. delinquent must be a masochist or something...

✎ yandere! delinquent who is always rejecting the idea that he fell for you. he just finds you interesting, that's all! he's a big tsundere.

✎ yandere! delinquent who, despite claiming he has no feelings for you, is always beating up people who are infatuated with you. why does he feel so much rage when someone other than him likes you? it's cause you like them dumbass!

✎ yandere! delinquent who tries to impress you by showing off new skills during your rematches. he thinks it'll win against you but he's horribly mistaken. like, hah! take that president- *gets pummeled down by someone way shorter than him*

✎ yandere! delinquent who now looks forward to school, his daily detention sessions and your frequent taekwondo rematches. god, you're so hot??? just fucking beat him up already???

✎ yandere! delinquent who always wants your attention on him at all times and uses his status as the school's troubled delinquent against you. like, hello??? he's causing, uh, trouble!! he never thought he would be this needy for someone he supposedly hates...

✎ yandere! delinquent who threatens everyone who tries or even thinks of hurting you. like, only he gets to do that to you! got that? though it's usually him that gets hurt but whatever.

✎ yandere! delinquent who is just so in love with you but totally rejects that idea. you're just his cool sparring partner...who's super hot...and sexy...wait, why's he thinking about you like this?!

✎ "oi president! I demand a rematch! right now!"

[peachy-panic]

Wrong Place, Wrong Time (pt. 1)

DO NO HARM.

Whew. After months (almost a year?) of marinating this chapter, I've decided to cut it in two. Thought about titling this chapter: Shit Hits The Fan. Enjoy!

WARNINGS: BBU setting, struggles with bodily autonomy, recovering alcoholic, mentions of violence

Jaime hits the ground with more force than he expects. His back takes the brunt of the fall, and for a moment, he is rendered breathless. A few weeks ago, the impact might have triggered a memory of real violence. Now, he gulps in a few deep breaths, feeling the grass at his back, until Ezra’s face eclipses the sunlight overhead. 

“That was better,” Ezra says, extending a hand. Jaime takes it and lets himself be pulled to his feet. 

“I can’t seem to stay on my feet,” Jaime huffs, frustrated. He swipes an arm across his face, pushing aside the hair that clings to his forehead.

“You’re doing fine,” Ezra says. “Getting knocked down is half the process of learning.”

Jaime grimaces. “I must be learning a lot, then.”

Ezra grins. “You are,” he says, sounding like he might actually mean it. “You’ve already improved from where we began. For now, take five and drink some water.”

“I can go again,” Jaime insists, already rocking back into his sparring stance. 

“We have all day.” Ezra grabs Jaime’s water bottle and pushes it gently against his chest. “You’ll burn out quickly if you don’t pace yourself.”

At the finality in his tone, Jaime relents and collapses back onto the grass. He downs half his bottle in one go. 

It’s been over a month since Ezra offered to teach Jaime how to spar. At first, the idea unsettled him in a way he couldn’t pin down. He didn’t understand the point of it. Ezra knew more than most how little Jaime’s ability to fight mattered; it isn’t an imbalance in physical strength that keeps him in his position. It is the law, the society, and the institutions decades in the making that hold the end of Jaime’s leash. Something about learning the art of self defense and knowing he is never allowed to exercise it feels more cruel than not learning at all. 

One session, Ezra had wagered. Train with me once and see how you feel.

The first time, Sebastian stayed to observe at Jaime’s request, perched on a piece of exercise equipment in Ezra’s basement gym. Jaime, who spent the week leading up antsy and nervous, watched with rapt interest as Ezra wrapped his hands. 

They started slow. 

The first time Jaime hit the ground, the room went silent. In the split second of shock and pain, a flare of violent memories flashed before him: a handler shoving him onto his back, his foster father slamming him up against the hallway wall. Distantly, he heard Sebastian’s voice break through the budding panic. “Maybe we should call it a day?”

Something about that—the grounding reminder of where he was, who he was with, and that the choice was his to walk away—snapped him back into his body. Ezra watched him from where he stood several feet back, not coming to his side and not saying anything in response to Sebastian’s concern. Instead, he watched Jaime, waiting to see what choice he would make.

The choice was his.

Jaime pushed himself onto shaking legs, nodding once to Sebastian before meeting Ezra’s unwavering gaze. “Let’s go again.”

Ever since that day, Jaime has taken to training with a level of enthusiasm he didn’t realize he was still capable of feeling. There is an itch for it under his skin when he wakes up some mornings. When he stretches, he relishes in the way his muscles burn from their previous session. On his morning runs, he thinks through new techniques Ezra showed him and commits to perfecting them next time they meet. 

On the evening after their third sparring session—Jaime still sweat-damp and shaking from exhaustion in the passenger seat of Sebastian’s car—he realized that this feeling was familiar. It was a sense of liberation he hadn’t felt since he last sprinted across a soccer field under the stadium lights, since the night he tore off across the backyard of a party with Derek at his side, high on the revelation that he might want to kiss him. It was the realization that training with Ezra made Jaime feel in control of his body for the first time in a long time. And that is a gift he can never repay. 

Ezra sinks down onto the grass beside him, uncapping his own water bottle. It’s almost embarrassing how he barely breaks a sweat against Jaime. Maybe one day he’ll give him a run for his money. 

From the screened window above the kitchen sink, Jaime can hear laughter from inside the house. He titled his head and smelled… something? Sebastian and the others insisted they would take care of dinner tonight and leave Jaime and Ezra to their workout. Jaime doesn’t know much about Sam and Aria’s skills in the kitchen, but…

Ezra smiles at him, nodding his head toward the sound. “How do you think it’s going in there?”

Jaime shrugs and lets his head fall back, enjoying the sun on his face. Spring is starting to blossom, slowly but surely, and it’s the first warm day of the year. “Nothing is on fire,” he says. “So it can’t be that bad.”

****

“Cilantro can substitute oregano, right? They’re basically the same thing?”

“No,” Sebastian and Aria say at the same time. Sam’s expression falls. The frown paired with the 1950s-housewife-style apron creates quite the endearing image.

“It’s not too late to order Thai food,” Aria mutters, pouring herself another glass of wine. Sebastian chuckles around a swig of lemonade. 

He didn’t make a big deal about staying sober these last few weeks, but he’s pretty sure Aria clocked it anyway, judging by the way she has kept the bottle out of arm’s reach of him all evening. He pretends not to notice. She pretends not to notice him not noticing. 

It’s been a good day. 

He can tell Jaime tried to hide his enthusiasm about a return visit all week. He never asks him about it outright, but his demeanor visibly perks up at any passing mention of Saturday dinner at Sam and Ezra’s. Sebastian offered to take him over there before work on any given weekday so that Jaime didn’t have to spend the day alone in the house, but that’s where his enthusiasm waned. Jaime isn’t quite comfortable enough to be alone with anyone except Sebastian, but Ezra comes close, he thinks.

It’s good. It’s so good to see Jaime like this—surrounded by people who care about his well-being, expressing more autonomy than he has ever been allowed in Sebastian’s presence. It’s moments like this that tempt Sebastian into believing that it was worth it, slogging all these months through the misery of WRU, just to bring him to Jaime. To bring Jaime here.

And maybe it was worth it so Sebastian could meet the others, too; his first friends in a very long time. 

They are laughing when the front door opens, so none of them hear the unexpected entrance until Julian Hernandez is suddenly standing in the doorway.

The room goes silent. Sebastian nearly shatters the glass in his hand to keep it from slipping to the floor. 

“You need to leave,” Sebastian says, the panic overriding any facade of politeness.

Julian, who is skeptical of Sebastian on his best day, says, “Excuse me?”

“Shit,” Aria says, stepping up beside him. “Jules, he’s right.”

Julian looks around, taking in the sight of all of his friends there without him, and Sebastian thinks he sees a quickly masked flash of hurt pass through his expression. “You asked me to take a look at your transmission last week,” he tells Sam. “I brought my tools.”

“I did say that,” Sam says. “But I didn’t mean tonight. I’m sorry. This… isn’t a good time.”

His mouth presses into a thin line. He glances over at Aria. “Yeah,” Julian says. “I can see you’re busy.”

“It’s not like that, Jules.” Aria insists. “Tate’s—” she starts to say. But it’s too late. It’s too fucking late. 

Because then the back door slides open and Jaime steps through, trailed by Ezra. They’re mid conversation, murmuring quietly. Both of their shirts are soaked through with sweat, clumps of hair clinging to their foreheads. Jaime is smiling—honest-to-god smiling—and Ezra is laughing at something he said, until his eyes meet Julian’s from across the room and he goes still. He puts a hand on Jaime’s shoulder. 

“Fuck.” It’s Julian who says it, a breathy whisper as he realizes the clusterfuck he has just set in motion. 

It’s the last sound in the room before shit hits the fan. 

Jaime is the last one to spot the new presence in the room, and when he does, his entire body locks up. The blood drains from his face, making his pale skin nearly translucent. His knees hit the ground before anyone can intervene. 

****

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[secret-smut-sideblog]

Satiated

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ violence, beheading, blood drinking, arousal at violence, sub/dom if you squint, p-in-v, sex with armor on, vulnerability, aftercare, complicated feelings, porn w/ very little plot, deranged shit and I'm not sorry

With Astarion starving in the Underdark his bloodthirsty friend sees his hunger, knows it quite well. And with a promised death in their future, seeks to help him sate himself...

-

Their time in the Underdark could have only been days but seemed to drag on endlessly. The lack of sunlight making him miserable. Snappy.

He knew he was being unfair when she asked quietly if he was alright and he scoffed at her. "Please. Spare me the coddling."

There was mild hurt in her eyes but she held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Star. I wont ask again."

He almost sighed, compelled to call her back and apologize. But he was nothing if not stubborn.

Honestly, the lack of sunlight was just salt in the wound. The true torment was hunger.

Nearly no wildlife available, and what was stalking around was not easy prey. If the blood in these beasts was any good anyway, he did not feel like risking life and limb every night to get some likely rancid blood.

Sure she had offered her neck a few times but she needed her strength, and it wounded his pride to feel like a charity case.

So the answer to his plight had been the spoils of combat. Any time they felled a duergar, a drow, he was draining the bodies dry.

The first few times his companions had shot eachother looks but she turned them by the shoulder, speaking quietly into their ears. Leading them away to let him feast.

He really did appreciate her, though he was struggling to show it recently. With her bloodlust he knew she understood on some level. Looked at him when he got like this with gentle recognition instead of disgust.

When they reached the Grymforge he felt delirious in hunger. Looking around at all the walking bodies, he could smell the blood.

He set his sights on the Drow, already promised dead to the Myconid's. A full meal. They just needed to get the idiot out of the rock fall and he could be sated.

When it finally came time to kill Nere and his followers he miraculously harvested all of his adrenaline and did his part, firing down arrows from on high. Watching her dance her violence into their foes.

Oh he did love watching her work. Her movements were always so joyful, a wide smile she didn't seem aware of splitting her face. Blades plunging so smoothly through chests, across throats. He adjusted his trousers as subtly as he could from his perch. Hearing her laugh, such a beautiful sound for such violent deeds.

Gods no wonder everyone was afraid of her. He should be too. And yet...

Afterwards the pleasantries were exchanged, the slaves freed, blah blah blah. His eyes were glazed over, all of his restraint focused on maintaining decorum. Mouth salivating, fangs aching.

His patience snapping, he connected to her tadpole. Hells below, can we PLEASE finish this up?

She glanced over at him, a small smile pressing the corner of her lips.

"Get out of here before I change my mind." She growled at the duergar.

"Astarion, help me with the head." She commanded. "Karlach, Lae'zel, take the remaining gnomes to the boats and make sure the path to the elevator is clear. We dont need any surprises."

"Aye, Soldier!" Karlach barked, Lae'zel nodding next to her.

"With me." She whispered, dark eyes meeting his. He raised an eyebrow slightly.

Surely she didn't need help with a beheading. He had watched her do much more strenuous violence quite easily. Ignored the twitch in his armor at the thought.

The Drow's slack form lay in a heap on the rock floor. He saw a shiver go down her spine as she straddled over the body.

"Sorry Astarion, we've got to do this first. Then we'll get you fed."

So she did plan to help him. Through the delirium he felt a tingle of fondness for her.

He could only nod, not trusting his saliva soaked mouth to form words.

She pulled her blade, chest heaving. Deeply aroused he realized, he could smell it radiating from her. He moved back to the shadows next to her to give himself some privacy as his own arousal spiked. The little remaining blood in his body pooling in his lower half.

She lifted the body to a sitting position, holding the torso steady between her knees, gripping the hair for leverage. Pressing her blade down on the throat.

He was confused by her technique at first. Surely it would be easier against the ground? Then realized what she was doing. Gravity. Keeping as much of the blood in the body as possible.

He stifled a moan, hunching over slightly. Gods he felt feral.

Back and forth she sawed through. Her eyes glazing over in pleasure. A slack smile pulling her face. Hips subtly grinding into the torso. Lost in herself.

He understood why she had sent everyone away.

When the head finally came free she gripped the scalp, smiling serenely. Free hand trying to catch the pooled blood pouring from the neck. Finding him in the dark.

Well? Her eyes said, pupils blown.

Shocked that he had forgotten his hunger for a moment he dove on the body.

Lapping and slurping he was lost. Laving his tongue along the plateau of flesh. Stopping to pull the pooled blood in her palm into his mouth, licking her fingers clean. Vaguely aware of a whimper from her lips.

Most of the blood gone from the wound he sank viscously into the lower neck, finding the base of the jugular. A tide of hot blood bursting into his mouth, rolling his eyes back. Oh gods he could barely stand it.

"There you go," She purred, pushing his hair out of his face. "You're doing so good."

His eyes met hers in a craze, a deep growl from his chest. The sensation of finally being fed and her soft words melding into something he had never felt before.

If he had more sense about him he might have laughed. From being forbidden from drinking from thinking creatures to being praised for it. The same person he had broken that chain with showering him with sweet words.

He gripped the body, his whole being focused on the singular task of getting more. More. More.

Some stray blood left his lips, dripping down the neck. Her eyes met it, lips parting.

Before he knew what was happening she leaned forward, licking it up in one small stroke. The tip of her tongue meeting the edge of his lip.

Did she...? Does she drink blood? He had never considered it but now it fired a piston of lust in his pelvis.

He pulled off of the wound, pressing his hand hard against it to keep as much in as he could.

Catching the nape of her neck and pulling her into his mouth roughly.

Pushing the mouthful he held into hers urgently.

He saw her eyes hitch back. Gripping his forearm. Throat working, moaning between swallows into his copper mouth.

Hells Below, he was going to go mad.

He latched back on, still ravenous. His eyes locked on her.

She stared at him with the same intensity. Eyes darting to the smeared blood he left in his wake. Back to his eyes. Her need apparent.

He pulled her by the throat to inches from his clamped down mouth. Pushed her jaw open roughly.

She whimpered hotly, tongue coming out to lave at his mess. Could feel the heat of her, their cheeks nearly touching.

Her tongue kept swiping at the seam of his lips as more blood slipped out. He nearly lost it when she devoted her tongue just to him, moaning sweet little calls against his jaw.

The vigor came back to him with a vengeance. The blood that wasnt fireworking across the base of his skull shooting straight to his pelvis.

The flow to his mouth getting weak he fell on his back, pulling the body over him. Loud choppy pants as he lifted his hips up. All decorum lost, he was vulgar in his need. The angle pushing the blood out. Pouring into his open mouth. Closing his eyes in deep ecstasy.

"Oh, Astarion..." She hushed, coming to kneel behind him. Her thighs caging around his head, looking down at him. Fingers running through his hair. "You've been so patient."

He nodded, looking up at her.

"You must have been so hungry." She reached forward, finger catching a stray drop traveling down his jaw.

"I'm sorry I made you wait this long." Parting her plush lips and licking it in. Seeing the edge of her tongue swirling around her fingertip.

Finally releasing the drained body he sucked his breath through his teeth.

Throwing it off of him he reached up, catching her face in both hands. Pulling her sweet mouth upside down into his. Drowning in her.

She cupped his jaw, kissing him slow. Searing. Pulling his lip into her mouth and biting softly.

He moaned into her, arching his head up for more. The blood sliding hot between their lips.

Gods she was so warm, so soft. It never failed to shock him just how heavenly she felt. Her hair falling curtain around his head. Her scent hitting the back of his throat. Jasmine, coffee, orange blossom. He wanted to be smothered by it.

Not able to stand it any longer he opened the fastenings on his armor, freeing himself from the painful cage of his arousal.

She pulled away slowly, a trail of their saliva between their lips. Looked at his length, his hand pumping along it, with lidded eyes.

Flipping she straddled over him, high on her knees. "Would you like some help?" She rumbled, fingers tracing along the fastenings on her own armor.

He nearly froze, sex was something he still felt... complicated about. And yet, he liked her. Really liked her. Trusted her. Or at least as close to trust as he could muster.

And Gods was he attracted to her, tall, curvy, scary. Very scary. Yet somehow still alluring, big doe eyes and soft plush lips. A mesmerizing contradiction.

He nodded. Gripping the chainmail on her hip.

"If we need to stop, say serpent. Okay?" She smiled, undoing the fastenings. Gods she wasn't even wearing underclothes, her perfect cunt hovering over him. A trail of wetness already pooling between.

"I like the choice of word. How devilish." He purred, watching as she lined herself up to him.

"Glad to see you found your voice again, Star." She smiled. Teasing his head in circles at her entrance. "What would I do without your voice drawling at my back all day?"

He was about to respond but she slammed her hips down. He almost saw stars, head thrown back.

"Mean." He gasped, to her evil giggle.

"Cant always let you get the last word." She smiled, trailing her hand tenderly down his cheek. His breath caught in his throat.

Her hips began to rise and fall. The cold bite of her armor against his hands his only anchor. The molten pressure of her cunt unbelievable. He was already panting.

"Gods you feel so good." She moaned, rolling her hips. Trying to hit the spot below her navel that he could find with his fingers. He arched his hips, saw her eyelids flutter, rubbing against it.

Her pace was slow, arching into him languidly. Pulling nearly entirely out then sliding back down, all the way to the hilt.

He was already writhing under her. Simultaneously needing her to pick up the pace but calling for his undoing if she did.

"While I'd enjoy riding you all night, we don't have much longer till our friends return." She mused. "So,"

Her hips began slamming into his, fast and angry.

He choked out a moan, the very same life that had been returned to him attempting to be pulled from his pelvis. Barely holding on.

He wouldn't come first. Reaching up to rub her clit.

"Gods your stubborn." She admonished, swatting his hand away.

"Let me help you find release, just one more time." She murmured, cradling the back of his head. Leaning down and catching the lobe of his ear in her mouth, nibbling and suckling.

Oh that was cheating. He groaned, hips fucking up into her hard. Nearly lost.

Her pleasure not being the forefront throwing him. Didnt she want to find her end?

"Please come inside me, Astarion." She whispered hot in his ear. Tongue licking a line up the sharp edge. "Please, beautiful."

He shuddered and with a great contraction behind his navel he was gone. Strangled whimpering moans, head thrown back. Gods above and below it felt like she was pulling his soul out.

Hips stuttering into her. Her's still rising and falling, wrenching him for all he was worth. He gripped fruitlessly at the rubble around them. Panting sharp little moans. Trying to find grounding in her chainmail thighs.

"Serpent," He groaned, the overstimulation too much.

Her hips stopped immediately. Pulling off of him and wiping him clean gently. Gingerly redressing his fastenings before hers. Her fingers sure but careful.

He stared down, dumbfounded. He had never had a lover attend to him before.

Felt the need to turn away from her, sitting up. Suddenly too vulnerable. Leaning his head into his hand, the heel pushing into his cheekbone.

"You okay?" She asked, attending to her own needs now. Tone kind and undemanding.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He quipped, glancing at her. Trying to shake his mask back on.

She laughed, standing. Readjusting her armor with a few jostling pulls. "More than any of us know, I'd wager." She sighed.

"Hey, I dont want you to wait until it gets this bad again. Lots of people need killing and it's my pleasure to help. Truly."

Reaching her hand out easily to help him up.

He looked up at her, framed by the light of the cave in opening. The burning heat halo around her head. Her face serious again but eyes still warm. "You with me?" She asked after a beat.

He clasped his hand around her wrist. "Always."

~

[lackablazeical]

💙🥀Leonardo Hamato🥀💙

Specific Trigger Warnings -

Stalking, harassment, manipulation, physical/mental/emotional abuse of a partner, objectification of others, threats/acts of violence, yandere-like actions and behavior, violation of consent/boundaries (specifically to actions such as hugging, kissing, snuggling, grabbing, etc.), child neglect

Specific boundaries w/ this character -

Do not glorify/romantize/endorse Leo's actions ("I wish someone cared about me this much" etc etc.)

Do not ship Leo with anyone. At all.

Do not treat Leo as 'fixable' or anything of the like, or imply that he could/should be 'forgiven'.

Do not imply romantic/sexual intention when Leo is touching someone. He just likes physical touch, that is all.

General info -

Leo's birthday is October 27th. He is a Scorpio ♏️

Leo's main love language is physical touch, but he can give love through all five.

Leo is a sex-repulsed Panromantic Vincian man. He can feel romantic attraction but only feels any type of deeper attraction/connection with non-women.

Leo has combined-type ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder).

Leo has ASPD (Antisocial Personality Disorder).

Personality traits -

Leo is loyal, protective, obsessive, slow-to-anger, charismatic, controlling, manipulative, forgetful, strategic, and vengeful.

Leo doesn't get angry easily. He may get annoyed, but genuine anger is rare and hard to bring out. Often, it's a build-up of small things that makes him lash out, usually violently.

Leo is extremely loyal to those he loves. He will absolutely kill and die for his family, and for Usagi. Family is the most important thing to him, and he will choose them over anything else.

Leo, as a strategist, rarely ever does things without a plan in place. While his actions may seem impulsive or non-sensical, they are often to drive people apart, cause fear/pain, etc. Leo is extremely smart, and knows how to twist situations into his favor.

Leo is a control freak. He can't stand not being in control, and will do whatever it takes to maintain the power he does have. If that means violence, then that means violence.

Leo will spiral and be sent into complete delusion and panic if he's left without affectionate physical contact for too long. He needs it to feel grounded, and he will force the contact if he must to stay sane.

Important details -

His insomnia -

Leo has extremely intense insomnia. This is a result of an error when he was mutated. Originally, Draxum intended for all the brothers to require less sleep, so they could spend more time fighting wars and such. Instead, Leo got an overdose of that specific chemical, resulting in the state we see today, whereas his brothers got off with no ill effects.

He is physically unable to sleep for around a month, but Leo is able to force himself to stay awake for just under around 3-4 months before his body begins to shut down. Leo can't control this, and he is likely to pass out mid-conversation or while doing something because of this.

This insomnia has extreme physical effects on Leo. It results in glassy vision, sluggish movement/behavior, extremely bad memory issues, delusions, inability to concentrate for very long, and carelessness. Leo also has a lower natural heart rate because of this, and his eyes strain more easily. He also has extremely shakey hands, which mostly present themselves when he is typing/drawing/writing.

Leo's siblings don't care for Leo's behavior after being rested, so they often make attempts to keep him awake/wake him up faster. Without intervention, Leo can sleep for days. With intervention, he may get 6-8 hours max.

After being freshly rested -

After Leo has recently gotten sleep, he is noticeably more helpful, respectful, withdrawn, and thoughtful. He is more likely to notice smaller details, remember things better, etc. He is also nicer, and will better listen to things like 'no'.

This state lasts around 1-3 weeks, depending on how much sleep he got previously. He may revert back to his regular behavior faster if exposed to a catalyst (someone made him angry, he gets a look/smell/taste of blood, etc.)

His relationship with Big Mama -

Leo hates Big Mama. He distrusts her and her motives, and hates how she treats Splinter, Mikey, and Donnie. Game recognizes Game, Manipulative recognizes Manipulative.

Leo keeps BM alive exclusively for Splinter and Mikey. He is willing to kill her the second either of them gives him the word.

Leo will be courteous to her if he has to be. He will accept her gifts and call her Mother, but he makes his absolute distain of her very clear. He refuses to be alone with her and will silence anyone trying to tell her personal facts about him violently.

BM was the one who gifted Leo his sword as a sort of peace offering. It didn't work, but he took it anyway. Now, he never goes anywhere without it.

Leo is very strict about BM not knowing about Usagi. He regularly threatens his and Usagi's brothers to stay quiet about Usagi, and makes it clear that it is their necks on the line if he finds out they told her. BM would use Usagi as a pawn to get Leo to listen to her, and Leo refuses to give up his control.

BM is aware of some of the other Miyamotos (specifically Kenichi, Ishida, and Riko) but does not know about Usagi specifically. She just knows that they have more siblings. She also does not know that Leo has a connection with Usagi.

Leo and BM are actually quite similar, with their controlling and manipulative natures. Never tell Leo that, though. Unless you want your head cut off.

His stalking -

Leo began stalking around 10 years old. Most of his targets would only be interests between 1-3 months, before Leo got bored/they died/etc.

Leo has had 36 victims, including Usagi.

Leo does not have a preference when he stalks. Age, gender, species, etc has no effect on who he fixates on. Though he is likely to be more violent/intense towards male/masc people if they are his current focus.

Leo typically treats any death similar to a breakup. He'll cry, stew in his feelings, etc. It annoys the hell out of his entire family. Leo often gets over it quickly.

Leo fixated on Usagi differently because he was introduced to Usagi differently. Leo actually saved him from being mugged, which is the first time Leo had ever felt like an actual hero. This sent him into a complete spiral of obsession, and now Leo only and will only ever have eyes for Usagi.

His dynamic with Usagi -

Leo is an abuser. He is Usagi's abuser. He manipulates him, physically/mentally/emotionally harms him, etc.

Leo does not insult, slap, punch, or put down Usagi. Leo is very verbally affectionate to Usagi, which is one of the reasons people do not pick up on what is really happening.

Leo will bite, shove, pin, yank, choke, throw, or restrain Usagi. He is very controlling of Usagi's movement.

Leo does not explicitly put Usagi down, but will make Usagi feel powerless, dependent, etc. As example, Leo would NEVER say "You're nothing without me", but he WOULD say "where would you be without me?"

Usagi barters time and affection with Leo to get Leo to let him do what he wants. Leo often only properly upholds these deals around half the time. This could be holding hands for 10 minutes so that Usagi can go to the store with his brothers, etc etc. Leo is very much giving "changed the terms at the last moment" vibes.

Leo would become a husk of a person if he lost Usagi. He would slaughter anyone in his way if they tried to take Usagi (except his brothers, ofc.) Everyone is very aware of the fact Leo would act out violently if Usagi tried to leave him.

This is not to say Leo will always pick Usagi. If it is a life-or-death, no other option situation, Leo will pick his family over Usagi instantly, no hesitation, nothing. He will mourn afterward, though.

Leo's favoritism -

If Leo loves someone, in his mind, they can do no wrong. He will make excuses, ignore facts, and twist the narrative to remove blame from that person. He may also find a scapegoat to blame the behavior on instead.

If two people Leo loves are fighting, he doesn't pick sides. He will completely ignore the problem and say that it doesn't matter.

Leo is very much of the opinion that 'its in the past, so it doesn't matter.' So what people say, actions they take, past trauma, etc. Doesn't matter to him. This could be contributed to his memory problems as well.

After a fight, Leo will comfort the one that he thinks is more upset, aka more 'in need of support.' Typically, this will be Usagi.

Leo's power level -

Leo is the most dangerous of his brothers, WITH his sword. He could easily take any of his brothers down with it.

Without his sword, Leo is the weakest of his brothers. Leo is not good at hand-to-hand combat, and his fighting style completely relies on his sword and portals.

Fun facts -

Leo's favorite food is candied strawberries. He loves anything sweet or fruity.

Leo loves play wrestling and will often get very invested in any fights he gets in with his brothers or Usagi.

Leo has an extremely good pain tolerance. He would be able to walk on a broken leg and barely even register it.

Leo is a mystic prodigy, and his teleporting ability is entirely self-taught. It is much more sporadic and 'glitchy' than Rise, but Leo is still able to get things where they need to go. Leo's swords can split, and be either 1 or 2 weapons. 1 sword can create solid, doorway-like portals. 2 swords mean Leo can teleport between them, if he throws or embeds them in something.

Leo loves pop music, as well as 60s-90s Spanish music. He has an antique radio that he loves to listen to. Leo will also listen to rap/dubstep/hip-hop for Mikey and Don.

Leo loves rom-coms, and that is where Leo gets most of his ideas of love/romance from. He does not watch good rom-coms.

Leo babies his brothers quite a lot, but it is out of genuine care and adoration.

Tags that include Leo -

#addams! Leo, #addams! Leosagi, #addams! Hamatos, #addams! Disaster twins

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 15

You cut a deal with Tess to get outside the QZ but your escort isn't who you expect. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-14 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, allusion to miscarriage (not described, only about a sentence). No use of Y/N. Whole fic is violent and smutty so minors, DNI! 18+ only

Length: 4k

You were so lightheaded teaching the next morning, you made a plan to check your blood pressure the second you got to the clinic. One of your coworkers made a comment about how pale you looked and offered you a small bottle of juice, something you were pretty sure was the only reason you were able to walk to the clinic to begin with. 

So when you saw Tess leaning against the wall outside, you weren’t exactly thrilled. If Joel had picked that minute to go downhill, you didn’t think you could run to his apartment let alone have the stamina for exploratory surgery on the Millers’ living room floor. For both your sakes, he’d better be doing well.

“Everything OK with the patient?” You asked as you came up. 

“He’s fine, all things considered,” she replied. “Was holding down water this morning, some food, too.” 

“Good,” you said. “I can grab you those antibiotics…” 

“I’m here to talk to you,” she said, eyes ranging over you. You thought about arguing with her but just sighed instead. If this woman was going to be taking you out of the QZ, you should learn to deal with her now. “Your… friend wouldn’t let me wait inside. Wouldn’t say why but I don’t think he likes me much.”

“Assuming we’re not underwater,” you said. “We can talk.” 

You went inside, Andrew behind the front counter. He glared at Tess for a moment before looking you over and frowning. 

“You look like shit,” he said, getting up and coming around the desk.

“Gee thanks,” you rolled your eyes. He took your face in his hands and tilted it, examining you in the florescent light. 

“Seriously,” he replied “Haven’t seen you look quite like this since…” 

“Yeah, well,” you cut him off, not ready to talk about the day you lost your child with this woman you’d met the night before. He let you go. “I survived that too, right?” 

He glared at Tess again. 

“Guess so.” 

“How busy is it at the moment?” You asked, looking to the half empty waiting room and praying there wasn’t anyone who needed surgery that day. Standing and operating for hours sounded dangerous. 

“You can have a slow start,” he was still watching Tess as though she were a wolf waiting to strike. 

“Any exam rooms open?” 

“No one in six through eight,” he replied. 

“We’ll be in six,” you said. “Just come get me when things go to shit.”

“They always do,” he said, going back behind the desk. 

You led the way back to the exam rooms, Tess staying close behind you. You closed the door, looking her up and down. She looked to be in better shape than she was the night before. 

“Need anything patched up while you’re here?” You asked anyway, grabbing the blood pressure cuff and sitting on the exam table before strapping it around yourself. You squeezed the pump, tightening the cuff down. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I took a few hits but nothing I can’t handle.” 

“Good,” you said, checking the numbers. 80/40. You sighed. “Shit.” 

“What?” She asked. You yanked the cuff free. 

“Well,” you sighed. “I need to basically try to not faint all day and just keep my fingers crossed no one comes in needing an appendectomy because I’m the only one here tonight who can do surgery. I didn’t have a good way to track how much blood I was transferring, I let it go longer than I should have.” You wrapped the cuff and set it on the exam table next to you before holding onto the edge of it, watching Tess. “What did you want to talk about?” 

She sighed, crossed her arms and leaned against the counter opposite you. It was like she was sizing you up - but whether it was as an opponent or an ally, you weren’t sure. 

“You and Joel,” she began, but you cut her off. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you said. “That man hates me. Fucking hates me. If he could shoot me on the street and get away with it, he would.” Your stomach turned as you said it. You swallowed the bile and pressed on. “Nothing is happening with us. What happened last night was him delirious from blood loss. It was nothing. Less than nothing.” 

It was the same thing you’d told yourself the night before when you fell apart in your bed, his picture still on your bedside table, the shirt that still smelled like him tucked below the pillow on his side of the bed. It still hurt to think it. 

Tess rolled her eyes. 

“If you think I give a shit about who the man sleeps with, you’re not nearly as smart as I thought you were,” she said. “He could fuck the entire QZ for all I care.” 

“Oh,” you looked at her. “Then…” 

“I care about who he’s willing to fuck our business over for,” she said. “And, apparently, that’s you.” 

You frowned. 

“I don’t…” 

“We trade with people all over the QZ,” she said. “I’ve set up meeting points all over this fucking hell hole over the last five years. Some are safer than others. The safest ones happen to be right around the corner from your apartment.” 

“OK,” you looked at her, incredulously. 

“He won’t trade at those spots,” she said. “Would rather do it right under a FEDRA guard’s nose than go within 500 yards of your place. I never knew why he refused to go into that area, why he would walk a mile out of his way to avoid it. Then, last night, I saw where your place is. And you… Well, you damn near killed yourself to save him. Now it makes sense.” 

You blinked, surprised. 

“That…” you shook your head. “I don’t…” 

“He’d never mentioned you,” she said. “Not once. We’ve come back banged up from outside the QZ before and the fact that he knew a doctor? Never came up.” 

“Well yeah,” you said. “Because he hates me. If he’s avoiding me that much it’s because he hates me…” 

“I don’t really care why it is,” she said, looking you over again. Her eyes lingered on your hair, the flowers you stitched onto your skirt to patch a hole. “But it’s not because he hates you.” 

You looked at her shoes and chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment before looking back up at her. 

“So what do you want me to do about it?” You asked. “You obviously have… gotten to know him. You think anyone can control what he does?” 

“I can,” she said. “Except, apparently, when it comes to you. But I don’t think there’s a damn thing either of us can do about that.” 

“So why come talk to me?” You asked. 

“I like to be informed,” she shrugged. “We do delicate shit, Joel, Tommy and me. I like to control variables. You’re a variable those idiots never thought to mention.” 

“Well, I promise to stay out of your way,” you said. “I’m not looking to cause Joel any more pain. I just want to make sure Joel and Tommy don’t get themselves killed doing something stupid. Same offer extends to you, by the way, if you’re going to be running around outside the QZ with them.” 

She looked surprised, a small, amused smile on her lips. 

“Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate it.” 

“I’m at the school until 2:30 during the week,” you said. “Here on the weekends. Otherwise I’m home. So now you know where to find me….” 

She nodded slowly. 

“You just do it all, don’t you?” She said. “Teaching, surgery, donating blood…” 

“Well I don’t have much else going on in my life,” you sighed. “Anything else I can do for you?” 

“Your trip outside the QZ,” she said. “It’ll be about a month. We went too close together this time, kicked the hornet’s nest a bit too hard. Need to give it time to die down before we try to cut through raider territory again.” 

“Should be fine,” you shrugged. “That will give me time to get more information on just what I need…”

“Has to be the Harvard Medical Library?” She frowned. “That’ll be tricky to get to…” 

“I mean I guess I could just go to the Boston Public Library for the hyper-specific studies that were only published in niche medical journals because JAMA didn’t want to touch them,” you said wryly. “I’m sure they’re there, too…” 

“Harvard Medical it is,” she said. “I’ll be in touch in about a month. Let you know exactly when I’ll take you.” 

You slid off the exam table and had to steady yourself, your head spinning. Tess reached out to help you, holding onto your arm until you could see straight again. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking your arm back. She looked you up and down one more time. 

“I like you,” she said. “I can see why they like you.” 

“Like me or hate me, probably best to not tell Joel who exactly it was who stitched him up last night,” you said, leading the way back to the waiting room and stopping at a medicine cart. You covered the lock before keying in the code opening it. You grabbed a bottle of broad spectrum antibiotics already dosed out for one person and handed them to Tess. “He might just pry the stitches out if he knew they came from me. Fuck knows what he’d do about the blood.” 

“Whatever you say, Doc,” she gave you a smile. You smiled a bit, too. She didn’t call you Kid. “See you in a month.” 

Saturday, November 21, 2009

“I really don’t like this,” Andrew was pacing your apartment, his arms crossed. “I should be the one to go…” 

“That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” you rolled your eyes. You were sitting on the couch, your backpack ready to go beside you, watching him go back and forth across your tiny space. Your apartment had always looked too small for Andrew. He crossed it in just four strides. Step, step, step, step, turn. Repeat. 

“Why?” He asked, stopping in front of you. “I’m a guy, way less likely to have someone try to…” 

“Well, for starters, you don’t know jack shit about medical research,” you replied. “You’ve got training as a field medic, you don’t know what to look for to develop treatments for anything and yeah, there are some specific studies I’m looking for, but I want to pick up as much as I can that will be helpful while I’m there. You need knowledge to parse that out. You can’t do that.” 

He ground his teeth but didn’t say anything. 

“And,” you continued. “You’ve got Jess to go home to. I’ve got nothing to worry about outside of work and you. I’m more expendable.” 

“You’re not expendable,” he glared at you. “Just because that fucking guy…” 

“It’s not his fault,” you rolled your eyes. “I just don’t have people besides you. That’s OK, I’m very happy that I have you. You do have people. That’s a good thing. Lean into it.” 

There was a sharp knock at the door. 

“She’d better bring you back in one piece or I swear to God…” he muttered, stalking over to open the door. 

Your jaw almost dropped. 

It was Joel. 

***

He hadn’t seen Andrew since the night he found out. Since the night he left you. Joel had barely even thought of the guy and now he was staring him down like he was about to punch him in the face. Again. 

Joel hadn’t stopped him last time. He wasn’t sure he would now, either.

He’d been on the couch, staring at the wall. Everything had consumed him. Memories of how Sarah died, all the ways it could have been different, the idea of his child with you. All the ways the world would be different now if he’d just fucking known. Tommy had tried talking to him. He wanted to respond but he couldn’t really understand what he was saying, wasn’t sure he could move to answer him even if he could. 

Tommy opened the door and Andrew had shoved past him. He grabbed Joel by the collar, yanking him to his feet. Joel was almost surprised when his legs held his weight, it hadn’t seemed like they could but they did. 

“You fucking asshole!” Andrew punched him across the jaw, hard. He stayed standing, more because he wasn’t sure he remembered how to fall or how to move away from him. 

“Hey!” Tommy yelled, trying to pull him back. He just shrugged him off and hit Joel again. The blow was closer to his eye. 

“She almost fucking DIED for you, for your kid!” He screamed as Tommy dragged him out. “She almost died and you’re pissed she did that without you?” He broke free of Tommy’s grip and lunged for Joel again, shoving him back. Joel stumbled but stayed standing. “Fucking fight back you asshole! I watched her bleed out for you and this is what you fucking do?” 

He stood there, panting in front of him. Joel still hadn’t moved of his own accord. 

“I knew you’d do something like this,” he said, voice trembling but calmer. “Go to hell, Joel.” 

He didn’t look any happier to see him now, blocking his view of inside your apartment. Joel pushed past him. 

“Ready?” He asked. You shrank back from him, pressing into the corner of the couch. 

“Where’s Tess?” You asked. “She was supposed to take me.” 

“Asked me to,” he said gruffly. It was a lie. He hoped you wouldn’t notice. “If you’re goin’, let’s go.” 

You nodded and got up, putting your backpack on. 

“You can’t be serious,” Andrew gaped at you. “He’s going to take you out there and fucking kill you and you’re going to just go along with him…” 

“Hey!” Joel snapped at him but you cut him off. 

“It’s fine, Andrew,” you smiled tightly at him. “I’ll see you in a few days. Cover for me at work, yeah?” 

He ground his teeth, looking between you and Joel, his eyes eventually settling on Joel. 

“If she doesn’t come back, you’d better not either,” he said. “Show your face again here and you’ll wish you got bitten. We clear?” 

“Crystal,” Joel looked down at you. You were dressed for a hiking trip and you’d French braided your hair and put fucking ribbons on the ends of your pigtails. Even in the goddamn apocalypse you had a seemingly endless supply of ribbons. “Let’s move, we need to get out of the fence before 6 a.m.” 

You trailed silently behind him as he led the way across the QZ. He hated it. Hated being this fucking close to you again, how it felt like a relief. Like the grip that had been on his heart for the last few months finally loosened and he could really breathe. He hated how quiet you were. He hated how much he liked being near you, even knowing what you’d kept from him. What that secret had taken from him. 

It was a cold reminder of just how miserable he’d been since he’d left you. The distance hadn’t helped. He still thought about you all the time but now it was tinged with the future you’d decided on your own. He couldn’t bring himself to be anywhere near you. It hurt too much. It was going to destroy him. It was part of how he’d ended up working with Tess to begin with. 

She saw him one afternoon, a week and a day after he’d left you - everything seemed to be marking time by how long it had been since he’d left you - when some fucking asshole tried to pick his pocket on the street. He’d caught the guy easily. Felt him reach into his pocket, knew where to grab him, where to throw him to make him regret it. If it had been before he’d left you, he might have just taken the ration cards back. Now, he wanted a fight. Wanted the anger. Wanted to feel something, anything, besides this wanting and emptiness and desperation for a future he could never have because you’d never given him the fucking chance to take it. 

“Think he’s had enough,” Tess said, Joel’s chest heaving. He dropped the guy into the dirt, picking his now bloody ration cards up off the ground and stuffing them in his pocket. He gave Tess a nod and started to head home but she caught up to him. 

“Where’d you learn that?” She asked, walking alongside him. He looked her up and down once before looking straight ahead again. 

“Outside the fuckin’ QZ,” he said bluntly. She smirked. 

“Perfect.” 

She asked him for a drink at the speakeasy, asked if he was interested in work besides the one off jobs he did every day. Something with some excitement, something where he could use the skills he’d honed in his life before the QZ. 

“Could use a man like you at my back,” she said. “But you’d have to do what I fucking say, I don’t do this lone wolf bullshit. Either you respect me and my experience or you can fuck off.” 

“I can do that,” he said. 

She first kissed him a month later. It felt…wrong. She was too tall, didn’t fit into him right. Her lips weren’t soft like yours. She didn’t smell like lavender. He kissed her anyway, until she started taking her clothes off. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” he muttered, looking away from her. “I’m not lookin’… I can’t be your anything…” 

“I’m not asking you to fall in love with me, Joel,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m asking if you want to fuck me. Doesn’t have to be anything but that. Fuck me - and whoever else you want - here, keep me alive out there. If you’re interested.” 

His eyes ranged over her. She was a good looking woman. He wasn’t blind. But she wasn’t you. He almost said no. But it was over with you and he needed to get you out of his system. He hated that, too. He didn’t hate Tess. He hated wishing she was you. 

He hated how he’d barely even known you were going to begin with. Tess had mentioned making a solo run earlier in the week after taking a meeting about it. 

“Why’re you goin’ alone?” He’d frowned at her from across the table.

“Just some researcher,” she waved him off. “FEDRA wouldn’t give them permission or staff to go get what they need for whatever passion project they have so I’m taking them.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better if I went, too?” His frowned deepened. “Or Tommy?” 

“Trying to not poke the bear for the raiders so the fewer the better,” she shrugged. “Don’t think she’d hold her own very well in that situation…” 

“Who’s she?” He asked, frowning. Most of the FEDRA people were men, especially anyone educated enough to be doing research. Everyone except…. “What kind of research?” 

“Medical,” she shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. If he hadn’t gotten to know Tess over the last few months, he wouldn’t have even noticed the quick, cagey glance. 

“No,” he shook his head. “No, fuck no, you’re not takin’ her out there…” 

“What, don’t trust me with your girlfriend?” She asked, eyebrows raised. 

“She’s NOT my girlfriend,” he snapped. 

“Then why do you care, Joel?” She quirked a brow at him. He ground his teeth. 

“Just do,” he snapped. “You’re not takin’ her.” 

“Well, too fucking bad because I’ve already agreed to it,” she replied. 

“Just don’t take her fucking money and tell her you can’t,” he raised his voice. “It’s not that fuckin’ hard, Tess…” 

“We owe her,” she snapped. “She wouldn’t take money, only a trade. This is all she wanted so I’m doing it.” 

“What the fuck did we trade her for?” He demanded. “The fuck you doing trading with her at all?” 

“I traded for your fucking life, Joel,” she said. “You really think me and Tommy were able to pull a bullet out of your stomach and keep you alive on our own? Jesus Christ, you’re not that dumb…” 

He sat back in his chair. So he hadn’t imagined you that night. He’d been dreaming so vividly, it was like he did before he’d come to the QZ, back when he thought you were dead and gone. It had felt so real that time, he’d thought he’d died, that he’d somehow ended up in the same place as you. Even though that didn’t make any damn sense - he’d killed far too many people to ever go to heaven, if heaven existed, and there’s no way you’d end up anywhere else. You’d been so close. A strange warmth was spreading through him and you were there, soft and beautiful and sad. It made sense that you were dead, that he’d died, too. More sense than anything else. 

“I’ll take her,” he said gruffly. 

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with her,” she replied. “At least that’s what her and Tommy both say. She’s convinced you hate her. Said you’d shoot her in the street if you could get away with it.” 

“I said I’m takin’ her so I’m fuckin’ takin’ her.” He snapped. “Either that or she doesn’t go with us. End of discussion.” 

He stalked off from the table, his chest tight. Just the thought of you, outside the QZ walls without him… 

He knew what life out there was like. It’d get you killed and that’s if you were fucking lucky. If you were unlucky, it’d get you kidnapped and brutalized first. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to fucking hate you, he couldn’t let you go with someone who wasn’t willing to die for you. Too big a risk. It had to be him. 

“Did Tess tell you the deal?” You asked after you’d been walking for a bit. 

“Just that I’m takin’ you to Harvard,” he said gruffly. 

“Right,” you nodded, glancing up at him. “You’re my guide, that’s all. I don’t want or expect you to be my bodyguard and keep me alive. I just need someone to help me find the place.” 

“Didn’t fuckin’ tell Andrew that,” he muttered. 

“Well, Andrew’s Andrew,” you shrugged. “Besides, I think you’re safe. He’s not capable of killing anyone….” 

Joel started watching for FEDRA guards as they got closer to the gap in the fence they used to slip in and out of the QZ. He held up the broken part for you and you scrambled below it, him following close behind. 

You were smart enough to drop when the search light panned over in their direction, you taking shelter behind a car that was lying on its roof. Joel kept his eyes on you. You were still so goddamn pretty. Even hiding from FEDRA you were fucking pretty. He ground his teeth. 

“Move,” he said under his breath when the light passed, grabbing you by the backpack and hauling you along through the debris field that ran along the outside of the QZ. He kept you both down low until you were fully clear of it, outside control of the state and under threat of raiders and clickers and men who’d survived like Joel had: taking what they needed and killing when necessary. 

“Last chance to turn around,” he looked down at you. “It’s shit out here.” 

“Wasn’t exactly expecting a stroll in the park, Miller,” you said. “I know what I’m doing.” 

“These medical books better be fuckin worth it,” he muttered, leading the way toward Harvard. “Let’s go.”

A/N: It's their first run outside the QZ and it's just Doc and Joel. So many possibilities 😏

This arc will likely run for about 2 more chapters with allllll kinds of interesting shit coming up for these two. I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you, as always, for reading and interacting. Your comments so frequently make my day and it means so much to know that people are embracing this story. I THINK I got everyone added to the tag list who wanted it but please let me know if you were missed. I want to make sure I loop you in! Love you!

Taglist: @paleidiot @ayamenimthiriel @ginger-swag-rapunzell @drewharrisonwriter @flugazi @pedropascalsbbg @taoyuji @starstruckmusiciansartghost @splendsay @bigboiseason123

[yanderes-galore]

Hi can I request Yandere Vanessa(and vanny) with a younger sister darling?I looked up when Security Breach takes place and it said 2023-2029 so we are like 18-19 year old?

I'll try, here you go.

Yandere! Platonic! Vanessa/Vanny with Younger Sister! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Trauma, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Kidnapping/Isolation, Forced companionship/family dynamic.

Honestly, a younger sibling may be perfect for her to keep her company.

This would give her someone to talk to, especially since she's shown to be lonely and dealing with all sorts of mental trauma.

Vanessa is in her 20's, I believe she's 22.

So yes, you could still be a little sister at like 18-19.

What may be easier is if you and Vanessa both work at the Pizzaplex.

Maybe she got you a job there so she could keep an eye on her little sister.

Plus, extra money doesn't seem so bad for the both of you.

Her behavior would certainly change between Vanessa and Vanny.

Let's do Vanessa first.

Vanessa often wants you around her during work, day shift and night shift.

She makes it so your shifts are nearly always the same.

She really hates being away from you.

Vanessa speaks about her interests with you and is sure the animatronics keep you safe when she isn't around.

You often speak of fashion and puppies as she likes them.

She also eagerly listens to what you like.

You won't have to worry about being hurt, she keeps a close eye on you and has you registered in the system.

Vanessa seems like she'd be teasing with you, essentially having you distract her from the evident mental issues she has.

Vanessa feels less anxious around you and actually feels happier.

She loves you as her sister and has vowed to herself to protect you no matter what happens.

Due to being conditioned by Glitchtrap as a teen, she probably ends up calling you her "little bunny".

It's a nickname, she loves to call you bunny.

She finds it as cute as you, her little sister.

You haven't minded the nickname, although you wish she didn't use it during work often.

You swear some of the animatronics call you that at times as they hear her calling you it.

Vanessa herself is rather normal.

She has a tendency to be overprotective and clings around you, yet there's nothing violent.

She's... just your sister, one you love very much.

Then there's Vanny... the true manifestation of her more violent thoughts.

This version of your sister is more playful and childish, only coming out during the night shift.

She's also fully capable of murder and violence... fully molded into what she is by Glitchtrap.

Honestly, you wouldn't know she was your sister at first.

She skips about the Pizzaplex, following you around during work.

You feel uneasy around the robots at the Pizzaplex when Vanny is around.

The band acts weird... the STAFF Bots seem to stare.

The red eyes of the rabbit gaze into you.

This version of your sister leans more into the nickname she calls you.

You're affectionately referred to as "bunny", "little bunny", "rabbit", "cottontail", etc.

That's a hint that you're dealing with someone you know.

Then soon Vanny drops the bomb... she's your sister.

You're terrified of her, the patchwork white rabbit stalking ever closer.

It's unknown if Vanny would actually hurt you... but I like to think she wouldn't.

Vanny would probably trap you in a room and never let you go.

She loves to hug you and call you nicknames.

Part of her wants to make you like her... to answer the orders of Glitchtrap and help her in her "job".

You're adamant on not doing that, making Vanny disappointed.

So instead... the white rabbit keeps you tied to a chair under her care.

If you managed to escape then Vanny will have every animatronic in the Pizzaplex hunt you down to bring you back to her.

She has control here... even as her sister you feel powerless.

In her eyes... this is still protecting you!

No one can hurt you if she's here to watch you.

If anyone did... well... it's not like she hasn't killed before, right?

She doesn't understand why you look so scared.

She's your sister!

If anything she's planned hours of fun for tonight...!

So much so you'll never want to leave.

[theprophetsayeth]

The Devil in the Knight AU

"Did you really make a deal with the devil?"

"You're going to be a star..."

Those were the last words he remembered as he sunk into sweet death's embrace. Only to be pulled out by cruel fate. He screamed as chemicals ate away his skin, his lips, his eyelids while his broken body twitched. He cried to God and begged for death, but the devil heard him instead.

"Did you really make a deal with the devil?"

Perhaps, or perhaps the devil couldn't let him go. He promised stardom and it was so.

"You're going to be a star..."

My AU mostly is about life in Gotham City and how the environment affects these characters. For example, we'll follow Joker's journey in discovering his identity . Though Joker is considered insane in comics, he's mostly a super psychopathic villain. I would like to display him as genuinely ill then transition him to the twisted devil we know. He begins as a street level criminal, stealing cars and doing a few heists. But because of his odd behavior (arguing with himself, punching himself in private, laughing out of nowhere) he's mostly passed on and nicknamed the Joker as a joke and a warning to anyone hiring. He suffers from very violent thoughts and he's afraid he'll one day act on it. So he makes a no kill rule.

When he finds himself in desperate need of cash, he does a heist by himself with the help of his silly little inventions and surprises everyone when he succeeds. his toys catch the attention of The Riddler, a self-made Villian, who's in need of an assistant. Together they create contraptions that left the police department stumped. But Riddler being Riddler, created tensions when he kept turning down Joker's ideas, calling them silly pranks. Which Joker took offense because weren't his riddles the same? The time spent with Riddler proved to be draining for Joker and he mentally declined, arguing to himself more out in the open, laughing manically, and ranting violence randomly. One day Riddler pushed him too far. During one of their schemes, Joker traps Riddler and Batman together in a contraption he designed himself. This would be known as Joker's first act as a Villian. The Batman captures the Joker and by trial, Joker was diagnosed as mentally insane and was sent to Arkham Asylum and assigned to Harleen Quinzel.

--

After the hostage situation, Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn help Joker in finding out who he was after Ivy recognizes him from long ago. However, the revelation of his identity greatly upset Joker and so finally accept the truth of his life:

"So that's the big joke, huh? This was all a joke! Me going circles and circles, around and around shredding my mind for the littlest clue to finally know who I am!

That's the joke, huh.

I'll always wake up drowning, waiting for death to take me. But the Devil will always show up to save me!

Just so we can play this stupid game of ours.

Fine!

Joker decides to break his rule. As his first and last act as a Super Villian, Joker kidnaps Robin (Jason Todd; age 12) and gives him several trials. In the end, Batman does succeed but circumstances prevent him from reaching in time. Joker blows up Ace Chemicals with Robin and himself inside. The only thing Batman finds is the Joker's torn jaw and Robin's little hand.

I'm digging doing fan art and fanfiction, it really does help getting the creative juices flowing.

[queenofmalkier]

Queen Nynaeve is nowhere to be seen in the second of the season

Interestingly, the showrunners seem to be favoring Egwene by making her the hero in both season finales. However, I have high hopes for Nynaeve's character development in the next season, depending on how the writers handle her storyline. One thing that I don't enjoy about the books is the lack of Nynaeve's point of view in the later books and the disregard for her safety by her friends. Nynaeve is my favorite character, and it's disappointing to see her become an afterthought to move the plot forward at times in the book, so I am happy with the show expanding her storyline. With that being said, I was disappointed with the finale, but I do see a path forward in season 3 and future seasons. What are your thoughts on the lack of focus on Nynaeve in the second half of the season? What is your expectation for season 3 and future Lan and Nynaeve moments?

I love this ask because I have so many thoughts.

To start with, I have felt disappointment with Nynaeve in the show not being straight up BAMF. I want to see her get hulk!mad and blow stuff up! SHE ANGY!!! But when I take a step back from my violent need to see Nynaeve commit violence of all forms, I'm actually left pretty satisfied with what they've done so far?

Season 1 was about establishing everybody, including Nynaeve. We needed to see that she came from a position of power and respect in the Two Rivers despite her young age. People trusted her because of her knowledge, because she'd proved herself worthy of that trust.

As she's older in the show we don't see the outbursts she's known for in the books nor does she whack people with a stick, but that's too be expected. She's grown past feeling like an imposter as a wisdom - though she still feels the sting of it, as evidenced by how she interacts with Moiraine.

We see her do some incredible things, and then we see she's capable of wielding some truly awe-inspiring power.

Season 2 takes that Nynaeve and scares the hell out of her. I think Ishamael said it best - she's afraid of power. I have a whole schpeel on the arches that I want to do because I think that episode (mostly) hammered home that pure terror she has about wielding the one power, but that's for another day.

Contrary to the books, Nynaeve isn't treated as another novice. Instead these mythical, powerful women she does not trust are borderline obsessed with making her channel . They keep talking about her potential, about her gift, about what she'll do... but none of them is really talking about Nynaeve al'Meara doing those things. They're thinking about the woman they want her to become: Nynaeve Sedai.

They don't even ask what she wants.

The fact that she has a block and cannot control her power is explored more in the show than it is in the early books, in my opinion. Later books she breaks down and admits just how afraid she is, but instead we're getting that earlier - in the arches, she can't heal Tam, then later she explodes in the same rage she did in season one but nobody is healed, nobody is saved.

Close your eyes, think of a flower. We've seen Nynaeve react negatively to that statement more than once, and I think that's a really, really good way to demonstrate just how unlike the other Aes Sedai she is. "It doesn't work for me like that!"

It's heartbreaking to see, and it's why Liandrin is able to manipulate her, because she doesn't treat Nynaeve like everyone else, nor does she really put her on a pedestal. She challenges her, she shows her the possibilities, she tells her there's no one way to be an Aes Sedai. She makes Nynaeve feel seen. (Putting aside the stolen Siuan scenes.)

Ryma is also able to break through Nynaeve's fear because she approaches it on Nynaeve's level, from a place she'd understand. No flowers, no soft petals. Healing.

Without Ryma there she cannot heal Elayne's leg, and she's so hurt and upset that she can't, but she can still help. She still has all the knowledge of a Wisdom inside of her. It lessens the blow of being unable to channel through her fear.

As much as I want to see Nynaeve channeling like a beast, I'm enjoying watching her work her way through her fear in a way that will make her channeling later on feel earned.

I'm hoping in Season 3 that she acknowledges that fear, as well as her feelings of being a failure to those around her when that imposter syndrome comes back in full - and that she gets past it with the help of Egwene and Elayne, two women who see her for her, and not for the power she can wield.

In regards to Lan/Nynaeve if we don't get the ring scene in Season 3 I'm gonna be so upset lol. It's really difficult to judge where they're taking things from here - how's Tear going to fit in? The hunt for the Black Ajah? Are we staying together? My guess is the 'better together' theme of Season 2 is going to expand to Rand breaking up the gang again because of his own fears, but I really don't know and I'm trying not to overthink it.

[seven4asecret]

₊✩‧₊˚ Tipping The Scales Pt.5 ˚₊✩‧₊

Moonknight System x Layla x Gn! Avatar! Reader

Content & Warnings: No pronouns, no Y/N, no Smut, descriptions of typical violence, eventual polyamory, & badly written fight scenes.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 (WIP)

Chapter 5: Enter Anpu

You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something as you peered around the column, watching as Harrow knelt. You had never been a violent person, even going so far as to condemn it most of the time, but the growing urge to wrap your fingers tightly around that man's throat made you consider otherwise. It would only be fair, right?

 The old saying of an eye for an eye comes to mind.

Surely Harrow had caused enough evil for his death to be a favor, perhaps it was even an overdue justice for the trouble he's caused. Or perhaps that was your twisted sense of rage taking over at the moment.

You didn't want to look. You didn't think you could bear the sight of your friend floating on the water's surface, eyes still wide in shock. He felt so hollow, so empty. And in a way, so did you. Gods... It was only a few days ago that you had been having a laugh in the gift shop over something stupid. You never thought that things would end up like this.

Honestly, you had pictured that maybe one day you'd finally work up the nerve to ask him out for coffee. As something more than just friends or coworkers. And maybe, if things went well and you got really lucky, you'd find that you had room for one more in your flat. You found yourself thinking about him often at work, where you could see him working the register out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you wondered silly little things, like if he had a favorite flower, or perhaps his opinion on 'The Mummy' from 1932. You had debated asking him to watch it with you, just to be able to listen to him ramble on about what the film did and didn't get right. You wondered if he noticed how you gazed at him when he went off on his tangents, the way your eyes softened at him, the gentle smile that would make its way to your lips. It wasn't your fault he looked incredibly kissable in those moments.

But things would be different now. Your stops at the nearby coffee shop would be for one tea instead of two. You wouldn't get to chat between your tours or hear him groan in response to your newest joke, trying to hide a hint of a smile. You wouldn't be able to listen to his ramblings or return his book. Oh, gods... you still had his book.

The sound of someone wading through water caught your attention and you resisted the urge to peek behind the column, instead choosing to squeeze your eyes shut. You weren't sure what Harrow and his band of followers would do to you if you and Layla were found. She didn't need to go through anything else, it was clear that the whole situation was a lot for her. In all truth, with the burning rage settling in your chest you were more afraid of what you would manage to do to them if they looked behind the column.

You let out a breath, counting down as the splashing retreated to the other end of the pool. There was a moment of silence, the only sound being that of the water lapping at the edges of the platform. Harrow broke the silence, his voice making your jaw clench as it echoed in the small chamber.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, whoever else might be in there."

You glanced at Layla. She didn't meet your eyes looking down in thought, processing the situation. Another step through the water caught your attention as Harrow continued. Your stomach dropped.

"Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality."

A dark silhouette made itself visible between the two columns that you and Layla were hidden behind. Your eyes snapped to hers and she nodded at you in understanding. Before you could react Layla grabbed the man, plunging a blade into his heart. He let out a soft grunt and you prayed to the gods that Harrow didn't hear.

She nodded her head at you to stay close as she slowly stepped around the column to peer at Harrow. He stood on the steps of the small statue of Ammit, holding it above his kneeling followers beneath him.

"Who wants to heal the world?"

His scepter glowed a sickening purple, letting out the rumble of a crocodile before he set off at a brisk pace, his followers falling in behind him.

As they finally walked out of sight Layla cautiously picked her way across the room, you following close behind. A bit formed in your stomach as you saw the few scattered bodies. It was too hollow here. Too empty. Death was never something pleasant, of course, a tragedy within itself, but now it seemed to surround you. Its evidence permitted the room, with a thick, silent heaviness that neither of you wanted to break. Yet.

As she kneeled beside a body you had to turn away, looking up as you blinked away tears away with a shaky breath. You already knew who it was.

"Marc. Marc." You heard her whisper on the edge of tears, trying to rouse him as if by some miracle he had survived two shots to the heart. She turned to look back at you, her tear-filled eyes pleading for you to confirm he was still hanging onto a thread. You both already knew the answer. You shook your head once, looking down as a tear slipped down your cheek. She sobbed quietly, holding him for a moment and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

You helped her lower him into the water and she turned to you, showing the scarab.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Somehow the two of you had made it into one of Harrow's trucks undetected and overlooked by the others, headdresses shielding your faces. The two of you stayed silent during the ride, processing everything that had just happened. You were still in denial over losing them. It didn't feel real yet. The world around you felt dulled, muted.

You were so consumed by your thoughts that you nearly jumped when you felt something brush against your hand. You looked down to see Layla's hand take yours, intertwining your fingers with hers. Your breath hitched and your eyes met hers. You wanted to smile, to offer her some reassurance. You couldn't. Instead, you just squeezed her hand in return, which seemed to be what she was looking for, not something to make her forget things, just to know that someone was with her too.

Eventually, the two trucks made it back to the ride with a bump, the the truck you were in following behind Harrow's. He pulled to a stop in front of a guarded roadblock. One of the men, speaking Arabic slapped on the hood of his car, Harrow responded by getting out and causing them to panic, grabbing their guns. Harrow stepped out of the truck, hands raised to placate the guards.

"It's all right. It's all right."

The man in front of him held up his gun pointing it right at him, "Show me your papers."

"I don't need to show you my papers. You need to show us your soul." Harrow raised his staff before bringing it against the ground, a wave of purple energy radiating from it. It struck all of the guards causing a bright purple glow to emanate from their chests.

Your handheld Layla's tighter as you watched souls being ripped from their bodies. It nearly made you want to be sick for some odd reason. It felt wrong, so, so, wrong. You felt that same feeling surround you, the ominous hunger, the starvation for power, the very fiber of a being being consumed. You wanted to curl up into a ball, all you could feel, see, and hear, was the repeating mantra of this feeling.

Judgement. Devour. Weigh. Consume.

It echoed louder in your head, seemingly all around you, more prominent than before. All you could see was a purple glow and hear the men screaming as their life was stolen out of their bodies. Darkness lurked at the edge of your awareness, wicked and so, so hungry.

Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.

You felt yourself tip forward, weightless, before something caught you, a pair of arms. You heard your name being frantically whispered. A moment later you sucked in a breath of air, eyes darting around as the purple cleared from your vision. Your eyes met Layla's and you let out a breath of relief, letting your eyes close as you realized she had leaned you back against her.

"You good? What was that? That was..."

"Weird, yeah" You placed a trembling hand on her arm as she held you, letting yourself settle down and catch your breath. "I-I don't know. It was too much at once. Overwhelming." You let out a shaky breath. "I could feel her, Ammit, I mean. It's not good. Really not good. Harrow must have been stockpiling souls because I have never, never felt a presence like that." 

She furrowed her brows. "Shit." 

Only now you realized that the truck was empty of Harrow's men and you looked at her. "Uh... where did everyone go?" 

"Just over there." *She nods her head to the distance ahead, where Harrow's men are gathered, overlooking things. "But we need to get a move on if we want to take the chance of stopping him." She looks back at you, concern flashing in her eyes. "Sure you're okay to keep going? I don't w-" 

"No!" You cut her off, before quickly correcting yourself with a shake of your head. "No. I've already made it this far. I'm not letting this stop me. I'll be fine." You pulled away from her, standing up with a crooked smile as you helped her to her feet. "Besides, you're not the only one who wants to see this through. I want Harrow to pay too. And I'm sure as hell not letting you do this alone."

She returned your smile as she grabbed your hand, standing up. "Alright. Let's do this then. For our boys."

The two of you tread carefully up the road, eyes locked on him through the mess of bodies, an unspoken plan brewing between you. Layla unsheathed her knife. Your hand hovered over the pocketknife you had from the camp.

Just as you were about to pass the car you jumped at the sudden presence. Before you could open your mouth to warn her of another entity the body in front of the car leaned up, addressing Layla in an unexpectedly feminine voice.

"Don't do it."

Layla ignored it and pulled you along to pause behind the truck, eyes still locked on Harrow. You were more hesitant now, it wouldn't be wise to go against the words of a god. "Layla, wait. I am the Goddess Taweret." Her presence felt warm, and lively, it might be best to follow her advice.

"Layla. It's Marc who's telling you to stop." The body raised its hands in an attempt to softly discourage her.

 "What the hell is this? He's dead" Layla furrowed her brows, looking at the body. Taweret, or the man she was speaking through sighs softly, dropping back against the ground.

"And I'm talking to you through dead people right now. So what? Listen, Harrow is too powerful for you to stop him alone. If Marc... If he can return to life..."

You paused. Well... Taweret wasn't wrong. If what you felt before was any indication the two of you were already going into deep shit. Getting the help of another deity may be the only way to combat another. But it was her last comment that caught your attention.

"What do you mean, 'return to life'?" Layla questioned skeptically. Taweret didn't reply at first, just letting out a soft groan as the body slumped against the ground again. "He's going to need Khonshu. Break his ushabti. It's in the Chamber of the Gods. And you can be my Avatar. Marc says wonderful things about you."

"No, no, no. I'll fight him on my own." She sheathed her knife.

You were about to speak when you heard one of Harrow's followers bark an order, "It's time to go!" The two of you pulled the fabric of your headdresses over your nose and climbed back into the car as the engine started up. This time your hand found hers as the car pulled away.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The two of you stood on the side of the pyramid, Harrow's men scattered around you, all eyes on him. You bit your lip, resisting the urge to babble on about everything Steven had told-

Suddenly the prospect of entering the pyramid lost its excitement. Your heart sank.

You shifted your focus back to Harrow as he stomped his spear against one of the large blocks with a metal clang. A rumble followed with the scraping of rocks as a crack formed, opening up a dark passageway. Harrow took up the lead.

"Come. You won't believe what the gods have hidden from mankind."

You shuttered as you walked next to Layla amongst his band of followers, keeping your head down. A group of five took their places before Harrow, and you could feel the presence of a god within them. Avatars.

"You're judges, not warriors." Harrow addressed them. "This doesn't need to happen."

The man before him, raised his hands, summoning two orbs of light. Harrow countered, stomping the butt of his staff against the ground, the crocodile eye glowing purple.

Layla took your hand, guiding you down the steps and through a passage. In a moment you were faced with a wall. Among it, scattered blocks were removed to form cubbies, each made to house an oil lamp and aushabti. You and Layla peered among the holes, looking for one that resembled the familiar bird deity.

You paused at one, breath catching in your throat. Its body was humanoid, just like all the others but its head resembled a jackal. Either one of two gods, Wypawet, or Anubis.

"No, way." You let out a breath, picking up the aushabti. As you looked down at the small sculpture you furrowed your brows, all sorts of questions plaguing you. Wasn't he supposed to be the one weighing the hearts? Why had the job fallen to Ammit? What had he done to be confined to stone? You hesitated, you felt the cold weight of the stone, something inside told you to take it, keep it. Layla found the aushabti for Khonshu, taking off to a hidden corner to shatter it against the ground without alerting Harrow.

You went to run after her but stopped. Your breath hitched as you heard a growl from the platform above, your head jolting back at the feeling of overwhelming hunger from Ammit returning tenfold. Your vision turned purple. The statue slipped out of your hand before you could stop it, shattering against the ground.

Black.

You blinked, looking around you, only to see an infinite space of nothingness. There was no sense of beginning or end, to know whether you were up or down within it. It was dark, but somehow well lit with soft green specks of light from some unknown source. It reminded you of the way light would shine on a raw crystal. Your breath quickened, your stomach dropping as you looked around for any possibility of an exit. Your panic was interrupted by a voice.

"Greetings." You whirled around to see a large figure standing behind you, a dark jackal-headed figure. He tilted his head as you observed him, taking in his presence from his winged headdress, his bandaged-wrapped body, to his tall staff. "There is no need for fear, I mean no harm to you." His voice was different than you had imagined, with a soft-spoken element to his deep vocals. He seemed... kind and you could sense he meant no harm.

You let out a breath. "Anubis."

 "One of many names, yes, if that is the one you prefer to call me by." He circled you, taking in your appearance. "I believe I owe you my thanks for freeing me of my stone prison, even if unintentional, I have not been free for...quite a long time. I'm in your debt, little priest."

"Uh... you're welcome?" You looked around the white void. "Where am I? Why were you stuck in the statue?"

"Between worlds. A secret path." He took a breath, his hand tightening around his staff. "As for the circumstances of my imprisionment. That was due to Ammit's greed and hunger. She blamed me for her own actions of devouring souls before their time, feeding off their power. The other gods imprisioned me at her word. She took my place as judge. She has just been freed from her own aushabti, you could sense it, Seer. Time is be of the essence if she is to be stopped."

You nodded. "That... makes sense. Then what can I do to help defeat her?"

"You must bind her. And the only way to do that is channeling a god's power through a mortal." He pauses, humming thoughtfully. "It seems that Ammit has already gained a helper of her own. The circumstance is more dire now. I alone will not be able to help you. I have been imprissioned so long that my full power will take time to manifest. I may be able to assist but you will still require the help of other Avatars."

"Harrow." You spat. "Alright. Tell me what I need to do."

He turned to you, eyes flashing. "Become my vessel, my Avatar. I believe you are more than fitting for the role. After all, you've known of such things beyond your own reality for years now, have you not? Why not harness the abilities that come with it? You were made to be more, little Seer. I can help you understand your gift, use it. Ammit's hunger overwhelms your senses, clouds your mind. Allow me to help you resist it's fog."

You hesitated a moment. This was your way to defeat Amit, to help your friends. You knew what Marc had said. But it seemed like you could use all the help you could get.

"Why not let me repay my debt to you? Your scales are balanced, you wish for a better reality. Allow me help you assist those who cannot aid themselves. Will you join me, little priest? Will you swear to deal justice to the world? To inflict divine judgement to those worthy of it? To serve as healer, guide, and judge? Will you aid me in the quest to tip the scales of this universe back to balance?"

You looked at him, sensing the genuine kindness behind his offer. He was not filled with underlying rage or vengeance like you sensed from Khonshu. No, instead you felt his desire for a better world, a deep love of humans. Your gut said to take it. In some weird way, you felt like you were meant for this role, like you belonged in it.

"You have my word."

He smiled, resting a bandaged hand on your shoulder. "Then it is done. I have no doubt you will serve me well. But first, I believe you will do well to fulfill the role of psychopomp, though perhaps in reverse this time. Find your friends and escort them to the door, I will speak to Osiris on the matter of releasing them.

You furrowed your brows in confusion and opened your mouth to question him when you were suddenly jolted forward, finding yourself in a vast landscape of sand beneath your feet.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ 

All the great epics sent the hero through the underworld. Heracles, and Odysseus, both made their journey to Hades' realm. But at this moment, you were no hero, out of every traveler who made the quest you felt most in the place of Orpheus. Not here out of duty, or a desire for fame, but something far greater, to fetch your own Eurydice.

Or perhaps that was the hopeless romantic in you.

The sky of the Duat was dark, purple, and blue, interspersed with stars. You let out a breath of awe, spinning around only to notice the large doors behind you. The large pillars holding it up, are carved with the ruler of the dead. Something about this role... it felt right. Like you were meant for this. You felt an odd sense of belonging here.

You turned back around, setting off into the sand, determined to find your friends. You could feel them, the thrumming of their souls leading you further. As you peered ahead you noticed the two figures a few yards from you, each of them excitedly talking to the other. You smiled as you recognized their voices. One American accent, and one a very familiar British that made your heart flutter.

"Steven? Marc?!"

Steven's eyes widened as he let out a breath, turning to you. He uttered your name in disbelief. "H-How... I-I... Are you really here?"

"Yeah, I'm here." You whispered in your shock at the sight of them.

He surged forward, closing the yards between you, embracing you enthusiastically. Your breath hitched and you clung to him in return, eyes watering as you rested your head against his shoulder. He took a breath, "Gods, I didn't think I'd see you again! T-there's so much I wanted to-" He pulled back slightly. "What the hell are you wearing? I-I mean, you look bloody amazing, really cool, but uh..."

You furrowed your brows, "Huh?" You looked down at yourself, eyes widening as you took in the sight of black-wrapped bandages adorning your body, a deep blue cape fluttering behind you.

Marc spoke up, interrupting you. His brows were furrowed in his confusion over your appearance. "How did you get here?"

 "Well. I, uh... may have accidentally freed Anubis. I'm his Avatar now! I-I can actually do something to help-" You paused as you felt another set of arms wraps around you, greeted by the unexpected sight of Marc now embracing you alongside Steven.

Gods above you wanted to melt.

"You really gotta stop dealing with gods for other people." The corner of his mouth quirked up, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "You keep getting yourself into trouble faster than I can keep you out."

You smiled. "You say that as if the two of you aren't worth every bit of it. I'd have you know I wouldn't do this sort of thing for just anyone."

Steven smiled, breath hitching as he leaned against you. "Yeah? That's really... that's really nice of you." He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "You know... I-I always wanted to tell you I-"

"How's Layla?" Marc spoke up, pulling back slightly.

"Anubis sent me here to get the two of you back. You'll get to see for yourself. Come on, follow me." You smiled softly, turning as the two towering doors began to open. Steven jogged up next to your side, intertwining your fingers.

"Gods... I... I have so many questions now. What was Anubis like? Is he scary like Khonshu? What did-"

Marc interrupted him with a soft smile, his hand finding your other. "Steven. Later. Let's focus on getting out of here for now."

"R-right. Sorry it's just..." He let out a soft sigh, smiling as looking at you. Your stomach did a flip at the softness in his eyes. "Wow... I have to admit I'm a tad bit jealous."

You let out an amused snort as you led them to the door, each of your hands in theirs. As you stepped to the top of the stairs you paused, giving them a lopsided grin.

"I'll see you two in a bit." You let their hands go, looking at them fondly.

They approached the white light separating them from life. Steven stopped Marc with a tug of his sleeve, looking at him, seemingly conveying some unspoken agreement as Marc nodded. He clapped Steven on the back, a grin on his face. "Go get em'. You've taken long enough."

Steven hesitated, turning to you and letting out your name in a breath. He stood in front of you, fidgeting with the sleeves pulled over his hands. "I-I..." He let out a nervous laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. "I..." He cursed, seemingly frustrated with himself. "Oh, to hell with it."

You furrowed your brows, puzzled. "Steven? What are you- Mmmh!"

Your eyes widened and any question you would have asked died on your lips.

Steven surged forward, his lips crashing against yours, his hands gently cupping the sides of your face, holding you tenderly. As if you would fall apart like precious porcelain. Your breath hitched and your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency and adoration, seemingly wanting you as close as possible. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and your fingers tangled into the back of his hair, pulling him against you.

A cough sounded from nearby. The two of you pulled away panting, faces flushed. You turned back to see Marc waiting expectantly, a glint in his eyes. "As cute as it is to see you two actually bing direct for once instead of dancing around your feelings, we got to go. The fate of the world is hanging in the balance here."

Oh. Yeah. You almost forgot.

Steven stammered, a bright blush coating his cheeks. "R-right. Yeah, I... I-I should go..." He looked from you to Marc, hesitating a moment before planting a final, soft, tender kiss on your lips. He flashed you a lopsided smile, "Laters gators."

"In a while, Crocodile." You smiled back, feeling like you were walking on clouds, your heart light.

Steven stepped through the light. Marc hesitated a moment.

He turned to you, letting out a breath. "Look, I know I've been... hard on you... but I want you to know you're not a burden. Not to me. Not to Layla. And sure as hell not to Steven."

You couldn't help but smile shyly. "Yeah, I think I picked up on that last one."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. I... Look, I was trying to keep you out of this, keep you away from all the shit I had to put up with Khonshu. To protect you, keep you out of trouble. Steven would have killed me if I let you get hurt. I couldn't do that to him. He couldn't lose you. I couldn't lose you."

You blinked a few times. Were... were you hearing him right? 

He paused a moment, looking at you softly, an unexpected tenderness in his gaze. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, stepping forward to plant a kiss on your lips.

He pulled away before you could decide to reciprocate, his hands running along your arms, intertwining your fingers as his face stayed inches away from yours. He spoke softly. "Thank you... For taking care of Steven, for being there for him throughout everything. He needed that. More than you could know. You're the best thing he's got.”

The corner of your mouth twitched up. You let out a breath. "You do realize that it's not just for Steven, not anymore, right?"

He smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, letting out an amused breath. "Mm, I'm getting it now. You really are trying to get into trouble now" He grinned, squeezing your hand. "I'll see you in a bit.

You returned his smile, cheeks still burning as he walked into the light.

A large smile stretched across your face, a hand going up to touch your lips. You giggled savoring the tingling feeling as you replayed the last few moments of their lips on yours. You grinned, pumping a fist in the air with an elated laugh. "Yes!"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You sat up with a start, gasping for air to see Layla kneeling over you. The purple clouding your vision was gone.

"Jesus!" She jumped. "What the hell was that? I thought you said you were fine."

"I am! Long story short is that we've got another god on our side. Anubis wants Ammit stopped but we need more than one avatar to do it." You stood up, brushing the dust off your pants. "Also Marc says hi. He's on his way."

Layla nodded, letting out a breath. "Yeah, okay. Lets go find some."

The two of you silently rushed off to the center chamber and met with one of the avatars before dragging himself up. Layla grabbed him, helping prop him up as you slipped his arm over your shoulder as he gurgled.

"Are you the ones who released Khonshu?

"Yes." She panted as you helped her prop him up against the wall. "Hey! Hey, hey. Hey. How do we stop Ammit?"

The man answered in a deeper, guttural voice that was not his own. You shivered. "This chamber is our most powerful place. From here, we need to impression Ammit in a mortal form."

The man groaned and Layla nodded. "A body instead of a statue. She'd be vulnerable. Okay, how do we do it?"

He gurgled again. "We need more Avatars than we have left-" He slumped to the ground and you cursed. You felt his soul rise from his body and fade.

"Layla..." You started softly, knowing she wouldn't like your idea.

"I know." She sighs. "Taweret, are you there?"

The body shifted, calling her name in an excited shrill. "I'm so excited! We're going to do great things together." You flinched the two of you. turning to see Harrow and a few of his followers heading in your direction.

"Shit.' You grabbed her hand and headed down a dark passage. A purple blast hit and you pushed her onward. The familiar feeling of Taweret's presence intensifies.

Layla groaned, her head jerking back as Taweret's voice projected through her lips. "Oh, you've changed your mind."

You stopped, watching your friend's sudden change in demeanor as your eyes flicked to the crumbling tunnel. "Guys..."

"I would be delighted to accept you as my Avatar." Taweret theatrically waved Layla's hand before she slumped against the wall, panting. "Okay, okay. Temporary Avatar."

She straightened back up suddenly, speaking again in Taweret's high-pitched voice. "Yes, of course!" While Taweret's presence was undoubtedly friendly you had to admit to yourself that this display was... unnerving but not the weirdest thing you've seen. "Oh, your father is going to be over the moon when he hears."

"Guys can we hurry this up?" you felt a sick feeling in your stomach as you felt the familiar sensation of souls being ripped from bodies in the distance. Ammit was feeding again, and not just a little but this time.

"Oh hush, little Seer! You can't rush things. Oh, I have a fabulous costume in mind."

There was a crunch and the rocks above you fell. You braced for impact.

White.

You blinked to see yourself in the same black bandages as before, something now on your face. You shifted, feeling the strain of holding something, breath hitching as you realized you were holding up the collapsing rubble above you. "Holy fuck..."

You saw a glint of gold as Layla kicked down a large chunk of stone, light flooding the ruined tunnel. You tossed the rubble off your shoulders, taking in her new outfit. "You look..." Your heart fluttered as she reached behind her to retrieve two swords, only to pull out a pair of metal wings. Curse your weakness for women in armor. "Oh, that's fucking awesome."

She smiled at you as she looked you over, "Yeah? I could say the same for you. Really sticking with the whole 'I see dead people' theme I see." Her finger traced over the ankh on your chest. You shivered, leaning forward slightly.

You let out an amused snort. "Can I... uh..." You looked at her a moment, eyes flicking to her lips. A light blush coated your cheeks, a nervous but hopeful smile spreading across your lips. "Just for good luck, y'know?"

She let out a soft laugh, leaning forward to brush her lips against yours. "That was cheesy."

You hummed into the kiss, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. I know. But it worked didn't it?"

She laughs, an arm snaking around your neck as her other pulled your mask up away from your face. "It did." Her fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you forward into a kiss. You sighed into the kiss.

Finally.

She pulled away, smiling as her eyes flicked over your face. "Happy now?"

"Oh, very." You reached back to pull out a pair of scythes from your back. "Ready?"

You spotted Anubis in the corner, a small smile on his lips. He nodded.

You sliced the empty air before you with the scythes, ripping a pocket into the fabric of reality.

She grinned, ready to take off.

"Ready."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The two of you emerged a second later amid the city, purple balls of light rose in the sky. You frowned as you took in the amount of souls being harvested. You knew this was going to be hard, but things were looking worse by the second.

A streak of white caught your eye. You watched as Harrow hit Marc with the staff before charging it up again. A sickly shade of purple emanated from the head of the staff.

"Quick there!" You pointed. She took off, metal wings spread as she flew forward, kicking Harrow off him. You followed behind her, mask off as you looked at Marc.

He stirred, letting your names fall past his lips. You grinned. "Long time no see."

Harrow waved his staff, another beam of purple shooting from the head, Layla folded the wings around her, shielding the two of you. You ducked to the side, Anubis guiding your throw as you tossed one of the scythes behind him, the weapon slicing a tear in space that he stumbled back into. The scythe spun, returning to your hand as he fell from the second resulting tear, dropping him hard against the ground.

"Layla!"

"Marc." The couple stood, embracing each other happily. You smiled.

"Thank god your okay." Marc panted, taking her face in his hands.

"How did you get back?" She asks."

Marc looked at you, flashing you a smile. "Had some help from our partner here."

You returned the smile, heart fluttering.

Partner? Oh, you liked that.

 Marc's suit shifted, and Steven made his entrance. He looked over at Layla. "Wow, you look amazing. What are you wearing?"

She let out an amused snort. Steven looked at you, the same soft smile spreading across his face. "Hiya." 

"Hi." you let out a breath. It took all your willpower not to pull him in for another kiss right there. Instead, movement to your right caught your eye.

Harrow stood up, his followers, joining him. 

"I'm really jazzed about showing you these new skillsets we have." Steven beamed, the mask covering his face again as he looked between the two of you. 

"All right, show me what you got." Layla nodded, a soft grin spreading across her face.

 "Yeah?"

 "Yeah."

You smiled as the three of you took off. The advice and guidance of your patron deity echo in the back of your head.

Slash there. Step here. Duck. Thrust. Turn.

It was a weird feeling to be turned into something other than yourself. Almost as if you were being guided through a dance by some unseen force. You closed your eyes, letting out a breath that seemed to echo.

Things felt like they slowed down as you spun. You could feel so much at once. Metal clanked around you. People shouted. Footsteps thudded. You could still see. In your mind's eye was a clear image of the scene around you, vivid, bright, and clear as the people moved around you. You could see their souls, and count the exact number of people near you, whether their scales were balanced or not within them.

Pull.

You hooked your scythes around someone from behind, effortlessly pulling him over you to crash on the ground before your feet. He grunted in pain. Unbalanced. 

You raised a hand, gesturing as you guided his soul to the underworld.

You grouped your two weapons parallel to each other, one on top of the other, opening your eyes as you watched them form into a staff. Another person ran at you. You ducked, swinging your staff at their legs, tripping them with your weapon. Predictably they did, and you knocked them out with the butt of your scythe. Balanced.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Out of the corners of your eyes, you could see your partners fighting their opponents. Marc scent a flying crescent at a follower getting ready to shoot at you before his suit shifted again. You sent a smile his way, kicking the man in the stomach. He doubled over and you placed a palm over his head, forcing his consciousness to fade. 

You ducked as Layla flew over you, standing with her back against yours. "You're good at this." 

She grinned. "I know. Weird isn't it? Suddenly knowing how to do these things." 

"Very." You dodged another punch, pulling the attacker down to the ground by his arm. 

Eventually, the three of you made it to Harrow. Your staff crashed against his own, with a clank. You pushed forward, arms shaking with the effort, his jaw clenched as you held him back. You looked him dead in the eye, rage boiling in your chest.

 "You'll pay the price for playing the part of a god." You seethed, arms aching as you pushed your staff forward.

He responded with a growl, matching your sudden push against his staff against your own. "What makes you think I was playing." The purple energy glowed again from his staff. Your eyes widened and before you could deflect the blast he maneuvered his staff, sending a beam of energy against your chest. You flew backward, rolling as you hit the ground with a groan. You stood up, cracking your neck and rotating your shoulders.

"Alright. Let's get this overwith. The trip was fun and all, but I'm a bit tired of this."

Marc let out a laugh. "You and me both."

Eventually, the three of you surrounded Harrow, sending stabs and slices his way. He managed to parry the attacks with his staff. Marc began to gain the upper hand, forcing him back with repeated attacks. Harrow responded in turn by plunging his staff down, sending a wave of purple energy radiating from it. You were forced back again, this time your scythes digging into the asphalt like butter to halt you.

You scrambled up as you saw Harrow corner Layla on a car and let out a curse. That alerted Steven who charged at him, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. A few hits were exchanged before Harrow caught his leg mid-kick, sending him flying through brick, a plume of dust rising.

Your eyes widened and you sent your scythes through the air, pinning his arms in their curve as the blades embedded in the brick behind him. Marc charged, landing a kick to his torso, allowing Layla to attempt to claim his staff, prying it from his hands. Harrow manages to slip out, the three of you scrambling to either grab his hands or take the staff.

 A hum echoed through the weapon and it shot a blast of energy at a nearby van. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked to Layla who went after the passengers, ripping a door off to use as a shield. With a nod from Marc, you went to help her, a band of his followers crowding around her, guns firing.

As you dodged and hit you saw a flashing purple light, Marc and Harrow battling for the staff still.

You let out a grunt as someone landed a hit to your side, making you retaliate, sending them backward across the street.

Another flash of light and Harrow had Marc's weapon at his own throat. You started forward only to watch the weapon fly toward you, pass, and pin Layla's hand to the car.

You looked between them, unsure of who to aid first. You winced as another flash of purple sent Marc to the ground, Layla pulling you to her with her free hand, shielding you with her wing.

She lowered it, eyes wide as she looked at you.

Your eyes were on Marc.

He wasn't getting up.

Time slowed down. In the distance you caught sight of Ammit and Khonshu, his staff being used to take him to the ground, shaking the earth as Harrow stalked forward. From the top of a building, you caught sight of Anubis. He nodded. You knew what you had to do. You just had to get there.

Dirt kicked up behind your heels as you ran towards Marc.

Harrow raised his staff.

You weren't going to make it.

Harrow brought his staff down on Marc's chest, making him let out a guttural groan of pain as the purple glow overwhelmed him.

You reached out a hand.

Pain.

You let out a cry as you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder. Then warmth. You stumbled back, tripping over your feet.

Shit.

 You felt something fly above you, gargling following as the shooter dropped to his knees, clutching a golden crescent.

 You looked up to see...Marc? His suit was different. Darker. He had gotten up, sending a few of his weapons out into the masses of Harrow's followers with eery precision, each hitting their mark. He yanked Harrow's staff from the man's hand. A kick to the cult leader's feet brought him to his knees before he had time to react. He sent a punch to Harrow's face, knocking him out.

 You glanced back at Layla, her eyes as wide as yours.

 When you looked back to Marc he was standing up, his suit now back to normal as he surveyed the scene around him. Layla pulls herself free.

 "Marc?"

 He let out a breath.

 "What the hell was that?"

 You stood up, brushing yourself off as you joined him.

"I blacked out."

You blinked. Before you could respond you heard a thump as Khonshu's body was grabbed by Ammit, dragging him away. Your heart sank.

You looked to Anubis, eyes wide, tensing as you prepared to run.

"No, you stay, little Seer. I shall go try and assist my friend to the best of my abilities." He disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Layla turned to the two of you. "I know how to stop Ammit. Get Harrow. We need to get back to the chamber" She grabbed his now broken staff, and Marc grabbed Harrow. You slashed the empty air before you, creating a bridge to the dark room.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

"The power of the room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow's body." Layla stepped first into the room, followed by Marc. You cut through the tear behind you, closing it. Marc lay Harrow on top of some rubble."Quick, grab my hand so we can start the spell."

You nodded at her, sliding your hand into hers, an action that had become familiar throughout the trip. Marc took her other hand. Your body jolted forward as words filled your mind. Old, ancient sounds, that you had never heard before streamed from your lips, joining the echo of your partners' voices. A purple light extended from Marc's hand, passing through each nearby statue of a deity.

 The light encircled Harrow and you continued to speak in a tongue that you did not know, driven by the whisperings of your patron.

Harrow's eyes shot open as the purple light funneled into his mouth, answering in Ammit's voice. "You can never contain me. I'll never stop!" The light faded and you dropped to your knees, chest heaving and shoulder aching.

 You felt two pairs of bandaged hands on your back. The same cold-tingling feeling overtook your shoulder, the wound slowly healing from both your patron's touch.

 "Finish it." The familiar voice of Khonshu echoed in the chamber. "And leave neither of them alive."

 Marc stood, grabbing the crescent from his chest and holding it as he prepared to strike the final blow. 

"While he lives, so too does she."  

You looked to Anubis. "It would be a fitting end. A fair punishment for the lives taken in her name." You wanted to agree. You wanted to see this man dead for everything he did. But it didn't settle well with you. You thought back to the man you shot when retrieving the map, the sick feeling that settled in your stomach. No, this wasn't right. Not like this.

 "I have to finish this. If not, I'll never be free." You heard Marc say in return to his patron, seemingly more to himself.

 You rushed over and grabbed his wrist as Layla spoke up.

 "Marc! You have a choice. You are free."

 "The choice is vengeance! We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again."

 "It would be serving justice that is long overdue, little Seer. An eye for an eye. A life for a life."

 You shook your head. "Justice perhaps. But would we not be stooping to the same level? A killer kills a killer?"

 Marc looks up at Khonshu. "Now you sound just like her."

 He lets go of Harrow, dropping his weapon. "You want him dead... do it yourself."

 He glares at Khonshu. "Now release us."

Ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[buterccup]

Silver Bracelet

Summary: Guilt and sadness overwhelm Simon as he lays in his room looking up at the ceiling and his mind rewinds back to the days he treasured the most as he plays with your silver bracelet.

Warnings: Heavy angst, mentions of death, small bits of fluff, blood, usual CoD violence, swearing, a little bit of comfort at the end

Character(s): Simon "ghost" Riley x Gn! reader

[c/n] = Codename

Simon had no idea what time it was as he lay in his bed as the silver bracelet in his had no longer felt cold from how long he held onto it. His heart felt heavy and he was sure he couldn't stay awake any longer. Even with his insomnia.

His bed felt lighter and less warm. Empty. And the more the noticed it the more he felt his heart ache and the more he felt his breath get shaky. He always knew, joked even, that he was cursed and every single good thing that happened to him always got taken away from him in the end in the most painful way a person could lose something.

Death.

Now, he knew that he really was. Everyone in 141 tried to help him cope with his grief but nothing seemed to work. Not even Soap's dumb jokes. It seemed like the more they talked to the Lieutenant about what happened the more he closed himself from them.

Simon was quieter during missions. More Violent. Like he was letting out all of his anger, sadness and heartache into his work. Simon thought if he let his emotions out like this, the missing feeling he has will soon go away. But he knows better.

His knuckles were almost white from how hard he was gripping your silver bracelet. Your voice echoed through his head as he looked down at his hand. Your hair, your eyes, your smile. Everything kept flashing in his mind. Like it was teasing him. Mocking him.

It would be about this time of the night you would wake him up from a nightmare or because you moved in your sleep.

"Si...Did I wake you up?" your voice was soft but also croaky from waking up, your eyes meeting his once he place a hand on your cheek. The warmth of him making you smile.

"Of course not sweetheart. Never." his response made you smile even more as you moved your arm to hold him closer. The shine of your silver bracelet meeting the moon light and breaking through the darkness of the room.

But now it was just cold. Even though the bed felt so empty he felt like someone put weights on his shoulders as all he could think about was you.

He should've known better than to let you into his life, you deserved someone so much better than him. He knew the dangers of you getting close to him. YOU knew the danger of getting close to him but you still did it anyways.

You never looked scared. You always smiled. You always made his heart feel warm even on the coldest days. He remembers the time he almost lost you. And you still made him feel loved.

"Hang in there okay, [c/n]?" His breath was broken and there was blood soaked into his clothes as he watched over you during the ride to the base. You were bleeding so much, even with your bandages but your eyes looked so bright anyway, you even smiled at him.

Once you all arrived at base Ghost was the first one to get off the helio and get you help while the others trailed behind him. He could feel you get limper and weaker in his arms making him fear the worst and shout more.

He felt his heart sink like it did now once they took you away from him on a cot. But as soon as he got you taken away from him you came back.

"[c/n]..."

"Ghost..I'm so sorry."

"You can nothing to be sorry about sweetheart." his voice was soft. like he got out all of his pent-up feelings when you all arrived, he even felt comfortable enough, even after what you both went through, to take off his balaclava.

"You're so pretty."

"You're pretty too, love."

No matter how much he worried and how much you scared him during that time, he wished it happened again instead of happened days before. At least you were still here.

"SHIT! [Name]!"

"Ghost! we have to go!" Soap's voice would call over the coms as he fought off more men while Price and Gaz were trying their best to catch their target while you fought your own battle in a ring of fire.

Ghost could do anything but back you and Soap up but he felt his breath being taken away once he heard your scream.

"FUCK!"

everything went so quickly after he heard your scream. Price and Gaz caught the bastard soon after you got wounded and Soap and Ghost helped you out of the fire and ash. You all were so close to getting out of the shit hole.

And before he knew it the coldness of your silver bracelet lay in his hand while the rest of 141 helped him the best they could.

It was almost time for him to get up but it didn't bother him. Simon had this moment with himself every night since you died. Your dog tag was placed on his desk and bracelet in hand.

And if he was going to be honest, he didn't want to wear your bracelet. Not yet anyway.

It wasn't because he couldn't accept you were gone, he knew that. It was because these moments with himself were healing him. Slowly but surely. Simon Riley, Ghost, the strongest in the battlefield, will have the strength to wear that simple silver bracelet.

Requests: Open

[lokisprettygirl]

Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 22 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 23

Summary: Loki isn't the only one fighting with his inner demons. People from your past continues to turn up.

Trigger Warning: 18+, Description of rape and assault, panic attack, violence against women, Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, age difference ,Rough language, mention of suicide, talk of virginity and slut shaming, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff

His palms felt clammy, he had been standing outside the orphanage for half an hour and you were taking your own sweet time coming out, as he noticed a girl approaching him he was slightly surprised. For some reason he kept picturing the eleven year old sweet girl that he knew instead of this fully matured grown woman that he probably would have fucked if he met her at the club. Just 18, he had to remind himself that you were barely an adult.

"Hiiii" you smiled at him and he snapped out of his thoughts.

"Y/n"

"Lokii..how are you?" You were the reason he was even alive today, for a moment the feeling overwhelmed him so he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to him to hug you.

"Thank you darling, thank you..I'll take care of you I promise" the gratitude slipped past his lips and as he felt your arms around his waist his nerves went calm for a moment.

"So it was your birthday a few days ago, want to do something?" You looked at him as he said that.

"Not really..Where are we going?"

"Ummm my place" you hummed as he answered.

He drove you to his house and you looked around as you both entered the studio apartment he was renting in Brooklyn. It wasn't enough for you two but that's all he was able to do at the time, the divorce settlement has ruined him even further.

"It's cozy, I like it" you placed your backpack down on the couch and smiled again.

"Well you can take the bed, I'll sleep on the couch, food is in the fridge, here's the..umm some money..you can go grocery shopping or get whatever you need..the girl stuff and all" he passed you a few dollar bills so you took it from him, everything was awkward with you two and he felt it in his bones.

"What do you do for work?" You asked him and he sighed

"A small gig at a club"

"What type of gig, are you a bartender?" He combed his hair with his fingers as he tried to avoid your constant gaze.

"A bouncer..you ask too many questions" The job always paid okay, that's also how he met Jolene as well, she frequented the club he worked at and she finally asked him out one fine day. When they got married she got him a position at her accounting firm but he was fired while he was resting after the wrist slitting incident. Now he wished that he never ever met her at all.

"That's hot..i like bouncers..they're soo strong and so manly" his brows furrowed as you said that, how the hell you had even been in a nightclub? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know that.

"Well I have to go meet someone..when I come back we can discuss your uhhhh future plans…if you want to get into college or–"

"No discussion required..I want to become an actor..we should probably move to LA" you mumbled nonchalantly before you proceeded to raid the fridge that was mostly empty.

"Excuse me?" He looked at you all perplexed, getting you into acting business didn't seem feasible to him.

"LA? Los angeles?"

"I know where LA is ..are you serious about this acting thing?"

"As serious as Joker was before his dad carved his face" he looked at you all confused again as you quipped "Really??never?? Oh my god we are definitely going to watch the dark knight once you come back.. Don't worry we don't need to watch the first part.. honestly 60 percent of people skipped the first part and went straight to TDK and somehow it makes perfect sense ..it's like you're not even missing anything important or worth knowing…you know…"

Your voice faded in the background as you continued to speak gibberish to him. However your sweet voice also filled his empty sad apartment and he liked that. Alot. That was the moment he knew that life wouldn't be the same from then, he knew he'd have to make several adjustments and since he had taken the responsibility of taking care of you, your dreams and aspirations became his as well.

His eyes opened to your shaking form and he absolutely abhorred that, every time you had a nightmare he felt afraid that you'd slip past his fingers like that one horrible time. It had happened a few days prior to your mother's anniversary during the second year of living together. He never talks about it because you don't seem to have any recollection of those two days, at first he wasn't sure how to deal with you, how to bring you back but on the third night you went to sleep and came back absolutely normal. You had a bad dream last night too but it was about Thor and he just knew this one was different from that. He knew you'd probably not remember this one because it involved your mother.

"Hey sweetheart" he turned the lamp on to see you properly. His heart rendered as he noticed the tears running down the corner of your eyes,

"Loloooo …mommmyy .. I want mommmy" you sniffled, your voice reminded him of that little girl he had left at the orphanage.

"I know baby..it's okay.. open your eyes..I'm here..im here" he shook your body a little and you woke up gasping for air,

"Lolooo mommyyy ..I need mommmy"

"Shhhhhh baby.. everything is okay..you're safe" he mumbled softly as he wiped your tears, his lips lingered over your forehead before he wrapped his arm around your waist and made you sit up so he could embrace you, you felt safe that way.

He leaned against the headboard while you clutched onto him and cried your heart out.

"I'm here baby, my sweet girl, come back to me, I'm right here, you have me i promise" he mumbled mindlessly

"Don't send me away ..they sent me away every time I had a nightmare..they sent me to that place I hated" you sniffled between your words and his eyes welled up.

"You have me okay? I got you baby, I got you i promise" you hugged him as tightly as you could and your foggy grief stricken mind lulled you to sleep but he couldn't sleep that night, next morning as usual you didn't remember the outburst like always, a few years ago he had asked Steve about that place you kept talking about after such nightmares and Steve told him that it was a psychiatric hospital where they sent you whenever you relapsed or whenever you showed the signs of dissociative Amnesia.

"What are you making?" You hugged him from behind so he smiled.

"Guess" you opened the lid of the pot and all the excitement disappeared

"Porridge" your face scrunched in disgust and it made him smile.

"Well you wanted to eat healthy remember"

"Just take me to the gym again, it's been months" you groaned as you moved around the kitchen to make tea

"I will.. as soon as he's caught" You hummed as he said that "Are you feeling okay sweetheart?" He asked you softly and you shrugged

"Yeahh why?" He sighed as you said that. He wanted to ignore it like he had done before but after last night and the way you were trying to help him cope with his trauma, it had made him reflect upon your own situation, you didn't get away unscathed from his father's abuse, sure he wasn't able to harm you irrevocably but the damage was already done when he had hurt your mother.

"Because of the nightmare? Do you remember what you saw?" He asked you and you stopped doing whatever you were doing.

"Nooo.. i .. I didn't have a nightmare last night..it was the night before remember?" You walked over to him to kiss him on the cheek and he hummed in response. He can't just dump it on you, that would only make the matters worse, he had to find a way to talk to you about this.

"Take me shopping today daddy, it's my birthday in a few days"

He picked you up and sat you down on the counter as you said that. Your birthday. He promised to fuck you senselessly on your birthday but the approaching date had him feeling someway, he couldn't decide if it was a good feeling or not, a part of him wanted to ravish you and enjoy every second of it. The other part though? that bastard wanted to keep himself away from your precious body as far as possible, he didn't deserve to fuck a girl like you, he was one of the reasons why girls like you lost their lives, he was the reason why their dreams got broken so how come he got so blessed as to have someone as pure as you saving herself for him.

"What else would you like to do? A party perhaps?" You thought about it as he said that.

"Or we could just spend it together..just the two of us" you answered him while your fingers played with his chest hairs so he kissed you.

"Aren't you bored of seeing my face all the time?" He chuckled after speaking.

"Ask that girl who spent 7 years without seeing this angelic face. She'd always say no" his eyes softened as you said that.

"For this to happen it had to be that way"

"For what to happen?" You asked him confused so he cupped your cheeks.

"For this to happen.." he kissed you passionately, it wasn't a touch and go type of kiss either, his tongue slid into your mouth so you sucked on it, he tasted like peppermint. Delicious "It had to be that way" you inhaled sharply as he finally decided to allow you to breathe.

"Does it bother you that I was into you way before you were into me?" You asked him

"You were just a child sweetheart, you didn't even know what you felt"

"Well I knew I wanted to kiss you, I was ten when I knew that I wanted to kiss you and –"

"Shut Up.. that's inappropriate as hell" He pressed his thumb onto your lips but his digit couldn't really stop you from smiling or talking even

"It's just the truth, and to this date you are still the prettiest boy i have ever seen in my life"

"Well i'm no boy now my darling" he wrapped your legs around his waist to pull you closer to him and his mouth travelled down from your lips, you moaned as he sucked the soft skin of your neck.

"Some parts of you is still the boy i met"

"Uhhhuh like what?" He chuckled condescendingly so you held his cheeks and kissed him lovingly, as lovingly as you could.

"Like these eyes, still as gentle as I remember, mommy always told me that you could judge a person fairly well by the look in their eyes, you have the kindest eyes lolo" his eyes teared up as you said that. He thought you'd give him a break after last night but you were hell bent on coddling him like a baby.

"Well your mommy wasn't really the best judge of character"

"Take it back" your voice broke because the meanie in him came out again so he kissed you again.

"I'm sorry baby" he murmured against your mouth and you almost melted into a puddle because of how tender he seemed at the moment "You're forgiven" He smiled as you whispered. He wondered how badly he'd have to hurt you to make him unforgivable in your eyes because no matter what he did or said you always forgave him and that too pretty easily.

"What else?" He asked you and it confused you for a moment before it finally dawned upon you. He wanted to know more about those boyish parts of him.

"The smile, still the same, everytime I felt scared at the orphanage I would just think about you and your smiling face, that calmed me down immediately" he kissed you again instead of responding with words "And your voice hasn't changed in the slightest either"

"You are such a sentimental little girl"

"Is that bad?"

"Not at all, I just don't want to disappoint you with my stoicism" a smile graced your features at the blatant lie.

"You're pretty sentimental yourself mister "

"No I'm not"

"Yes you are"

"Shhhhhh"

After force feeding you that unsavory porridge he took you shopping like you had asked him to, you also had to be at an audition tomorrow, you needed to find work or you knew he'd try and find other works, like that thing he used to do at the club, you hated not having him at home all night.

You picked a dress but you didn't want him to see it just yet. You both spent the whole day out, it was a peaceful day but it didn't stay that way. Ofcourse it didn't. It came crashing down on you.

Your soul almost evaporated as someone ran in front of the car, you both watched a woman lying unconscious in the middle of the deserted road and you wondered if she was alive.

"Is she…oh gooddd" you mumbled under your breath so he looked at you

"Stay in here okay?" He asked you so you nodded. She had long blonde hair so it wasn't Jolene, you hated that it was your first thought. Your worries didn't cease there because as Loki rolled her over, it was someone you knew, someone you both knew very well. He picked her up hurriedly before you two could get caught by a passerby or something. After laying her down on the backseat, he quickly got in and drove towards the apartment as fast as he could.

"Ummm is that uhh--"

"Yeah and I don't trust the bitch so we are going to take her home and you're going to help me tie her up as securely as we can okay?" You looked at him all perplexed and he glared at you so you nodded.

The cops on the patrol tonight asked him about her so he lied that she was a friend that had gotten drunk out of her mind. As soon as you all reached the apartment you helped him tie her up onto a chair.

"Lokiii what are we doing..is she even alive?" you asked him nervously so he walked towards you and grabbed you by the shoulders.

"She's alive and breathing, it makes no fucking sense that she'd end up right in front of our car of all people"

"We should tell Steve "

"No not after Thor's situation, I'm already on his radar"

"But what if this brings us more trouble?" he wiped the sweat beads from his forehead as you said that. Ever since his bastard father has escaped your lives has turned into a rollercoaster that just doesn't seem to stop rolling.

You both waited for her to come back to consciousness and when she did she started to struggle against the binds almost immediately.

"Why the fuck are you here?" He asked her as he pulled up a chair right in front of her, you dragged another chair from the kitchen table, it almost looked comical as you tried to be as quiet as you could but the situation wasn't funny at all.

"Lokiii? Y/n?"

Well no memory loss it seems.

"Why the fuck You have me tied up Loki? I know you enjoyed that one time I had--" your eyes widened as she said that. He fucked her all tied up? Again you hated how your mind couldn't move past the jealousy

"Shut up.. shut the fuck up okay? Why are you here..answer me" he glared at her and she looked at you, she then gave you the sickly sweet smile that you remembered really well.

"Oh look at you now, turned yourself into Loki's pretty little girl huh?? Dreams do come true i guess"

"Sister Natasha–" Loki glared at you so you corrected yourself

"Natasha..what are you doing?"

"I don't understand, do you guys like own LA now that I can't be here?" She chuckled and Loki's teeth gritted in anger, he was so close to doing something awful

"Are you here to do his bidding again? He sent you.. didn't he?" she started laughing as he said that.

"You are still so naive loki. You know if he wanted to be here and eat her heart he'd be here, he won't need me" He stood up and all of a sudden there was a smacking sound that you heard, you looked at him shocked as he slapped her. Her lower lip split open at the force he used, your eyes teared up because you weren't expecting him to just go off like that, he never lost his control like that with you. He wasn't like that. Not with women. Not outside of consensual bedroom shenanigans.

"Ohhh I have missed that" her reaction wasn't shocking though, you knew they fucked, you just didn't know they indulged into this, though you should have guessed considering the sexual history of the cult.

"Don't make me kill you Natasha, just tell me the truth, for once in your life, tell me the truth"

He heard you sniffling so he turned his head to the side to look at you, the look on your face was enough to kill whatever shred of self esteem he still had left in him.

He walked towards you and grabbed your arm to take you to the bedroom.

"Stay here" he warned you before he turned around to leave

"This is not you loki" his eyes teared up as you said that.

"That's me sweetheart, that's the real me..still want to believe that bullshit you had made up in your head about me? This is me..the monster I keep warning you about"

You shook your head as he said that, you wanted to stop him and hold him, tell him that he wasn't a monster but he didn't give you a chance, just an hour later cops raided the house, they were tipped off. Natasha told them that he had kidnapped her, she told them that you had no involvement in all of this, you begged Steve to not believe her, you asked him to not take him away from you but he said that he was helpless. All the evidence was against him.

They wanted to take him away to lock him behind the bars, he was to be questioned later on about his motives.

And that's when you were finally able to understand why he went crazy on her, he knew her. You didn't.

You didn't know that she was as rotten as Odin. He wasn't wrong, she was there to do his bidding and she got what she needed. You without him by your side.

@annoyingsweetsstranger @whylokiissocute @loki-s-wife @fraoid3 @siggytumbles @crzyplantladyvibes @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vickie5446 @wheredafandomat @mcufan72 @xxntiimulti @loz-3 @dishahaldar @mcdesij @scram1326 @elthreetimes @army24--7 @sinsandguilt @holotacopeely @huntress-artemiss @blog-the-lilly @ultraviolencexxss @disneyismyworldforever @bunny24sstuff @kats72 @somewiseguy @asgardianprincess1050 @multifandom-world8 @loki-laufeyson-1054 @daddylokisqueen @lulubelle814 @itsybitchylittlewitchy @rogerrhqpsody @praq123

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[wilsonthemoose]

5.15 angels have gone

In which Sam does almost everything the same except that Dean doesn't show up to be with him when he jumps.

(As told through a series of voicemails)

Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), in that this fic is the events preceding endverse or how endverse came about, Angst, Temporary Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Blood and Violence, Season/Series 05, Episode: s05e04 The End (Supernatural), Hurt No Comfort, also featuring the lucifer rising voicemail and the samulet briefly

He's standing in a pool of congealing blood, bare feet tacky and sticking, "Hey, Dean. It's uh— It's Sam." Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Look I know we both thought this was for the best. Going our separate ways, I mean. But I uh— look I'm sorry okay? And I'm trying to fix it, I'm trying to fix everything and I know you are too. And we just work better together man." Cliché, cliché, cliché. "Call me back? It'd be good to hear from you."

The gun's soaked, chamber clogged. It will take some cleaning.

His hand never shook.

No new messages.

He contemplates calling of course, sometimes. Five drinks into the night.

Open wounds never close but you do them no favours by picking either so he drinks some more instead and checks his messages religiously.

__

"Hey, Dean. Been a while. Just wanted to check in." He's standing against a black '67 Impala he jacked four counties back out of sheer, stupid nostalgia. "Actually, no, I'm working a lead." He hesitates for a moment. "With the Trickster. And I know what you're gonna say—" Just can't stop working with monsters, can you, Sam? "But uh— he did me a real solid, and," he sighs, "It's a chance, you know? Anyway, I could really use your help. I'll send you the coordinates."

The car makes all the wrong noises. He could fix it, if he wanted, but it also doesn't have toy soldiers or legos, and anyway, he's not sure he cares all that much.

"Hi Dean, I had a really great time last—"

Delete messages.

__

"Hey. I know you say no chick-flick moments but—" he sucks a breath in through his teeth, "Dean, I would— I just wanna talk, just once. Baseball scores, weather, anything." He stares between his feet and imagines Dean listening to the message. He'd roll his eyes. He might be angry. He probably doesn't care enough to listen. "I keep—"

To send, press 1. To—

"Are you ready?" she asks, not unkind but bordering on impatient.

She's going to spread his remains over the planet and this time, with any luck—

"Give me a minute."

He digs the phone out of his pocket for a little bit of courage and hits play. "Listen to me you blood-sucking freak..."

__

"Hey, Sam." He clears his throat. "Heard you took down Famine." He takes a swig of whiskey and wipes his mouth. "I talked to Bobby and I can— I'll come and get you, okay?" The sound of Sam screaming 15 feet under the house echoes up to him, a year and a life away. "Just call me, Sam." He's half proud and then half surprised he can still feel that way. "I'm not— I'm not mad at you Sam. Call me."

"You're a monster, Sam. A vampire. You're not you anymore and there's no going back."

He sets a bucket, a few bottles of water, and a small paper clip on the floor and cuffs himself to the tiny cot. He's banking on the hope that he'll be shaking too much by the time he loses his will and tries to get out of the cuffs.

It starts with tremors and hallucinations. Then there's the seizures and the vomiting. At some point (day two or three?) he finds himself on the floor with the unbearable weight of the flimsy steel bedframe crushing him and the room moving violently up and down with a thudding like a bowling ball hitting a carpeted floor.

He only realizes it had been his own head repeatedly jerking to the floor several hours later, standing over his body trying to tear his eyes away from Lucifer in Jessica's body. Her thin-fingered hand stroking blood off the forehead of his corpse with enough tenderness that it might really have been her.

"You don't have to fight anymore, Sam," the voice is a whisper. Almost her in sound but the cadence is off. "You and me, we're the same." It probably says something, that Lucifer only ever talks to his corpse. Lucifer sighs, long and drawn out, "Oh, I know you don't want to hear this, Sam, but I promise," her hand curls around Sam's ear, tucking sticky hair out of the way, "You will understand someday."

His head is whole again when he wakes, but the wrists are torn from the handcuffs and it takes him several hours to steady his hands enough to pick the locks.

__

"Dean, it's been months. Getting kind of sick of the silent treatment, you know?" He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I heard about Ellen and Jo." He hates the way his voice trails down at the end, hates the way he should have been the one to die there. Hates the way his brother hates him so much he won't even—

"I'm sorry Dean. I'm here. If you want to—" he almost says talk, "yell or—" he sighs. "I don't think you're listening to these so."

Dean tosses the amulet into the trunk of the Impala and a few weeks later, off the side of the road.

__

"Dean, I'm gonna— I'm going to say yes." His voice is shaking. "I'm going to jump in the Cage and I'm going to take Lucifer with me." He doesn't sound determined even to his own ears. More broken than anything else, half aware he's destined to fail, entirely terrified of succeeding.

"Sorry," he sniffles, "If I thought you were listening, I'd probably try to sound less—" he chokes on a laugh. "Dean, I don't know if I can—"

He takes a steadying breath, then erases and records the message several times until it sounds in turns automated and choked with helplessness.

"I don't think I can do this alone."

He never gets a response.

__

"Sam, I'm disappointed." His voice is half tired, half venomous. "I'm so so disappointed in you— what? You, you can't even—" Would it kill him to call back, just once? He hurls the phone at the ground, crushes the screen under his heel, and goes in to raid Bobby's liquor drawer.

__

He's standing in a pool of blood. The demon he drained is still hanging by the wrists. The bottles of blood make him sick. Probably a good sign except that he thinks he'll flinch at the last second.

He's been standing over the trunk for over an hour staring at the bottles of blood when his phone pings with a voicemail.

"Sam, I'm disappointed." Sam closes his eyes and leans his head against the cool metal of the open trunk. "I'm so so disappointed in you— what? You, you can't even—" There's a crash of the phone being thrown.

Sam sinks to the ground, gravel biting into his knees, and holds his head in his hands.

__

He says yes in Detroit and screams no in his head five years later with his brother's throat under his heel.

[qedmirage]

Well, that was a ride. Unmarked spoilers below the cut.

Took me about 5 months to clear episode 8, and three days to clear episode 9. Episode, well, where to begin. I'll admit that I read too many spoilers myself on major plot elements, undercutting some of it. Still, it was neat to see just how hard Deathless Black Snake is into a kind of violent nationalism, possibly even fascist thought?

Favorite moment is without a doubt Alina's death in R8-9 After, and abject refusal to allow Talulah to know her killers. Because Talulah will take revenge if given a chance, will let anger consume her, will fall to Kaschey's arts and hateful manner of thinking - even if the arts weren't there, it would be a path of violence for her.

The white-haired Draco keeps trudging on in the cold, endless snowfield. On her back, the Elafia girl trembles away, pausing only to take in deep breaths now and then. Snow drops down from the Elafia's horns. As Talulah slogs along, the snow-covered trees behind her begin to burn alight in silence. She has unknowingly begun to set her path ablaze.

The final climax of chapter 8 is also some great otaku-ass nonsense as Amiya, our cute soft bunny CEO, has a powerset almost perfectly geared to ruin the Deathless Black Snake's day. And she knows it

The introduction of Priestess, and her vow to Doctor was also really neat:

and I liked the story beat that Kaschey is still inside Talulah, still tempting her. Fuel for my anarchist reading of the story;

It's this urge for control, for power, for violent revenge that undergirds why Reunion goes wrong. The pull towards authoritarianism, towards unchecked violence, is what destroys the liberation movement. as for mechanics, wow. Boy I hate ursus civilians. Ep 8 was probably the high water mark of difficulty in arknights, and I feel like from here I can handle anything. I gotta say Talulah was really a pile of nonsense, but with her Burning Breath mechanic defanged, she's pretty tractable. The basic core of my strategy going into her final fight was to use Gravel and Projekt Red, who have 17 sec redeploy timers, to bait her breath move with its 19 sec cycle time. Absent that mechanic, the rest of her fight is...not easy, but manageable. On the other end of things, ep9.

This one was a much smaller scale story, and I appreciated that! It was shorter too, which in some ways worked against it - the guys Outcast faces off against scream jobber - but it worked. It's also notable as being an episode who's plot almost doesn't feature Rhodes Island - the focus characters are instead Horn (Rita Skamandros), Bagpipe (Fiona Young), and Saileach (Jane Williams), with a little bit of time in Reed (Lougshinny)'s head. Notable is that none of those are part of the feline majority race in Victoria, and the first three all to some degree believe in a pluralistic, welcoming vision of Victoria instead of the oppressive one they have. High points gotta be watching Saileach go from "the nice girl Janie who is nice to everyone and takes care of the flag" to "Me and this entire hospital ward are gonna beat your ass if you harm one hair on a patient's head", and Outcast's whole deal. Like, back in prior chapters we've seen Elite RI ops show up, paradrop without chutes, tear buildings apart with telekinesis, so you know the old lady's gonna be dangerous. And she is and the payoff's great! Great old lady cowboy character. Also, found a bit I liked:

Janie: But it's not… the whole story. After the conversation we had, I remembered some things from ages ago I'd forgotten. My da's a lawyer, and he used to tell me stories about how my grandda's grandda came to Victoria with nothing. He went from rags to riches. The Victoria he described was an advanced, open-minded, prosperous country. Here, technology and capital conquered savagery. The people's hard work and wealth wouldn't be destroyed just like that by Catastrophes or racial conflict. In making it to such a magnificent land, we Vouivre were able to live a "civilized" life, compared to one of barbarism and violence in the old country. Outcast: Victoria was the most advanced industrialized nation in the world, for a very long time.. Janie: But we had to give up a lot, in order to become Victorians… When I was five, I climbed to the top of the tallest tree in our garden. My da caught me having a blast and gave me a good scolding. Then he locked me in my room and gave me dozens of books to read. The next day, he hired a Leithanien piano teacher for me. I missed the view from the top of the tree, but I didn't give it much thought. I knew my da was doing it for my own good. Outcast: He was helping you to get used to the rules. Janie: That's right. Books, piano, the garden… He understood that those were all things we'd need to know, in order to enjoy the life we had.

Janie's family had to work hard to fit in, to not express their racial traits, to shape themselves to the society around them. Similarly, people know and sense that Victoria's glory days are past - but they don't quite grasp just how soon, how fast, the whole thing may end up unraveling. A few characters note that the fire started in County Hillock may destroy the nation, but for people like the Colonel, the magnates who wish to meet Dublinn, it's not understood - these are quite possibly Victoria's last days.

Mechanics and gameplay wise, ep 9...knocked it out of the park! It wasn't too hard, the Dublinn guys had some interesting mechanics that kept any one thing from being stale, there wasn't anything that felt like I was getting smacked with a wall of pain. I will note that 9-14, with all the pre-deployed jerks, I had to use a support Fiametta to funnel all the enemies into her bombardment kill box. The tattered pillars mechanic is kinda tricky sometimes, with how it actively reshapes the map, but it opens the door for a lot more engaging strategies. I kinda hope it comes back now and again. Mandragora's a fun boss. I had Nearl The Radiant tank her phase 1 (shield this, loser!) and then just kinda threw random fast-redeploys and snipers at her in phase 2 including tex alter to drop pillars on her. Part of my line broke and it was nearly a fail but I got the 3* clear! A fun time.

(Edited 11/2 to fix Saileach's legal name and a capitalization error on Victoria)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 1 Pt. 1

I'm late to this because I couldn't think of what to say other than my little joke posts. This is just more sporadic commentary as a result because I'm saving some of my thoughts for when I have more information later on.

One of my favourite panels so far fr. Please Mr. Nightow what dumb shenanigans did these two get into on the regular. Please tell me. Eriks and Lina are my new favourite comedy duo. (You know. Before bad things happen. As per usual.)

Ok so some thoughts on Vash awkwardly insisting that Lina overreacted - she didn't. Self-defense is valid and Lina was well-within her rights to kick that creep in the face, but Vash is now even more passive than he was in his attempts to mitigate violence and tragedy - he's not just throwing away his own pride and dignity, he's fumbling through expecting others to do the same, which he didn't used to do btw - which, unfortunately, makes sense. He's hidden himself away and is terrified of himself - he wants so badly to avoid being the cause of or seeing any more pain inflicted on people. But here's the thing - extreme passivity can also be harmful. There are some things you should get angry at and should respond defensively to. It reminds me a little of that part in Little Arcadia where Meryl is upset with herself for not responding with the same righteous anger towards Badwick pointing a gun at his parents the way Milly did. Unaffectedness can become uncaringness if one walls oneself off from becoming defensive of that which is important to them (tbh I think Meryl was being too harsh on herself in that scene - but it's important to note that she writes the letter to her parents after, and responds more openly and honestly in future chapters). Meryl also realizes in that arc that she can choose a path for herself that doesn't necessarily have to be in perfect keeping with her parents' - they will live through her regardless - but Vash here doubles down on his original philosophy and takes it to extremes instead. I'm finding it really intriguing that Meryl appears to be learning similar lessons to the ones Vash should be, but much earlier than he does (if he will, which I hope he will). I think that might be because they have similar ideals at their cores.

Also, lol at Wolfwood seeing the footprint she left on the guy's face and just being like "nice, kid".

I hate this. I hate this. Can he quit having his reputation be thrown back in his face for five minutes? How much must it hurt him that despite him only ever wanting to help, the image most everyone has of him is this caricature of a villain who is violent and cruel and belittling and demeaning, or else, the whispers of some calamitous being on a power scale incomprehensible to humanity, like some sort of bogeyman? And then to have him reveal all his scars in such an incredibly humiliating way - and to have that be the moment we, as the readers, have definite proof that this man is, in fact, Vash. This impostor went the extra mile to look exactly like the "humanoid typhoon" but it's those scars that are the genuine reveal of Vash's true character. He's just a guy. Yes, he's capable of being dangerous, yes, he's pretty much a living weapon of mass destruction, but he is also kind and self-sacrificing to a fault and chooses this kindness every day. He is literally just a guy. I need people to be fucking nice to him. Leave him alone.

Wolfwood already being defensive of Vash counter: 1

Grandma Sheryl really said "Get my gun." Whhfsdjhfvh

I'm realizing that when Wolfwood unclasps Punisher here, this is... the first time Vash has actually seen that it is. A giant gun. This is the first time the reader would have seen this. Hjhnsdjhvn???

The hair cutting scene hurts me so bad man. I've seen a couple people break down that scene so I won't do that here but hnnng. I love that Lina so clearly cares about him. That she wanted to keep him safe too. And even though she doesn't feel like she could do enough it meant the world to him. Augh. Aughhhh.

Meryl's birthday is in February!!! This is important information.

Ah yes, Trimax Chapter 3, or, as I like to call it, "Area Insurance Girls Destroy Workplace Asshole's Entire Career by Hitting Him With Proof that He Is a Hitman Committing Murder and Fraud, Then Hitting Him in the Back with a Projectile from a Stun Gun". (Meryl and Milly I love you and I love your teamwork. Girls <3. Again, someone broke down the whole part with Meryl here so I won't get into it.)

Wolfwood already being defensive of Vash counter: 2

Wolfwood already being defensive of Vash counter: 3 (also holy shit dude???)

(For clarity, this counter I'm keeping is because it makes me laugh - I have a sneaking suspicion I know why he's there from Tristamp - which makes the fact that he reacts like this after like. What? A few days of knowing him? - really, really funny to me. Also I'm writing up a little something I noticed about Wolfwood, and this is a bit relevant, so there's that too. But mostly it's just funny.)

Geez, Knives looks demonic in the flashbacks. It's very intriguing how he's mostly faceless. I would imagine it's some complex mix of not recognizing his brother after what he's done, not recognizing him as his brother after what he's done, and not wanting to see his twin's face (which looks like his face) staring back at him as some kind of monster. I also have to wonder if Vash is a little scared of Knives, especially after July and Fifth Moon. Also, the way Knives tries to help Vash up because they're "brothers", hence, the same, but when Vash angrily accuses Knives of not being human, Knives kicks him back down while shouting about that he wouldn't want to be like them ever. Really I think this kind of highlights the dynamic in a nutshell. Vash fears harming others more than he does about his loneliness. Knives fears being all alone, I think, and is willing to commit harmful acts to assure he won't be - Vash often winds up hurt by this. Knives doesn't. It also emphasizes how Knives' offer of sticking together is contingent on Vash being agreeable, which is. Yikes bud.

Hm. Wolfwood starts calling him "Needle-Noggin" here. He was calling him Vash before. Interesting.

Brad stfu challenge. Don't be mean to him I'll be sad :(

What is wrong with him. See, Vash is exaggerating his weirdness for the bit and also to hide intense internal turmoil. Wolfwood is clearly trying to get a better vantage to see what's happening here but, unfortunately, I also think he is just like that.

I find it very interesting that Wolfwood finds it so important to finish that particular conversation with Vash, that he even went to go find him earlier to do so. It seems he was under the impression that Vash's stance is one of passivity, but that's not true at all - Vash's whole thing is that he is actually incredibly, notoriously bad at "doing nothing". Isn't it Wolfwood who was the one who wanted to leave here? But he has a point that sometimes you have to make difficult choices. Hm...

Vash just went full chaos entity for this one, huh?

"Wow, it's great that the bullets didn't pierce through and that the equipment works!" he says as he coughs up blood from the force of being hit. :/

This is a very tricky situation, morally speaking, at the end. Vash actually seems to understand the father's reaction here. But if the man shoots his daughter's murderer then it's not just the murderer who loses his "blank ticket" - so does the father. The way the screams of the murderer look like they're encroaching and pressing in on Vash... agh. And then when he goes for the gun, the father thinks Vash is judging him but I really don't think that's it at all. I don't think Vash faults the father for his anger - he understands the cruel death of a family member and the anger that comes with it. He lets the father beat him up instead and release aggression that way, which is a very... Vash way of dealing with it. It worked this time but... that's only because the father turned out to be unable to kill him after all. Vash didn't seem like he really knew what to do here, or even what the right thing to do was. He reacted on instinct. I feel this was less bravery and self-sacrificial pacifism than it was an incredibly vulnerable moment and an apology, in a way. He can't allow himself to let people die when there's something he can do, or to have them throw their futures away. But he is also sorry in a way, not for the act of intervening, but because he knows the father is hurting badly. Idk.

This is interesting, because I think it's right, but not completely. It's less that they are all his family, and more that he has taken up what he kind of sees as the family mantle (Rem's) of saving all the people she saved during the Fall, which is, unfortunately, everyone. Poor Vash, honestly. It's hardly sustainable, and even if it was, it assures that he will always be wrapped up in torment.

I just know Vash intentionally calls Wolfwood out in a really annoying sing-songy voice every time he does something nice just to embarrass him. Hjhdfnvjh

Anyways, that's all for that; until the next volume -

WHAT THE FUCK?