#no accent marks we die like men

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 2)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: I wanted to get up to the part where you finally meet Logan but it was too long 😭 and I ended up deciding to split the chapter up. In the mean time I hope this enough to tide you over. <3

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts, @blooket-scares-me, @amararosesblog, @talanyra, @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Wolverining is Hard

When you come to, your arms are tightly secured behind your back. Sitting up you try to take in your surroundings as you wiggle around trying to free yourself. The room you’re in is dark with a metal table and a singular chair in the middle and smelled strongly of disinfectant.

Just as you felt like you were making progress with your restraints, really you had just dislocated your hand, a door opens up on your right flooding your vision with a blinding light.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came an accented voice, it sounded British. Just as your eyes had started to adjust to the light you were harshly hoisted up to your feet and dragged away into another room before being dumped unceremoniously at the feet of a pair of red and black boots

“Pookie you’re alive!” said Wade dressed in a new and improved Deadpool suit. Where did he get that? You thought to yourself. “I thought these TVA fucks ate you or something!

Helping you to your feet Wade pats you on top of the head before gesturing between your restrained hands and a guy holding what looked like a giant remote in his hands.

Rolling his eyes the guy snaps his fingers and you’re manhandled again as your restraints are roughly yanked off.

Taking in your surroundings you notice you’re in what looks to be an office with office workers and a floating platform above it. On the platform, where you all were standing, are a bunch of monitors all showing different scenes of you and your friends.

“Where are we Wade? What is this place?” You asked confused as you rubbed at your sore wrists, getting closer to him.

“You, baby girl, have just been upgraded to first disciple! Congratulations!” He said jokingly, just as he was about to say something else he was interrupted by an accented voice, the same one you had heard before.

“As you can see Mr. Wilson your friend is alive and well mostly well.” Said the man from behind Wade with the British accent, he eerily reminded you of Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. Frowning, the man watched you with a disgusted expression as you flicked your hand popping your wrist back into place as you sucked in a breath in pain. You had definitely dislocated it earlier.

“Now as much as I hate to cut the reunion short it’s time for her to go back home.” He said snapping his fingers again, suddenly you're surrounded by men in body armor again, one reaches out quickly to grab you but you stumble back into Wade who pushes you behind him.

“Wait wait wait….you’re just gonna send her home? To die?” He turns to ask the man behind him. He could feel you pressed against his back, like you were trying to get under his skin. You were scared and he couldn’t blame you, you still had no idea what was going on.

“Die? What are you talking about?” You asked looking back and forth between the man and Wade until a gloved finger fell on your lips silencing you.

“Shush child Marvel Jesus is talking.”

“What the fuck?” You whispered, pushing his hand away.

“You can’t send her back Paradox.”

“Oh I can and I will.” The man, Paradox, had said as one of his armed men came up to him handing him one of those electric baton stick things you had seen earlier. You immediately tensed up, as he started to approach you with it, not knowing what it would do to you on contact.

“No wait wait wait please just hang on a fucking second!” Wade shouted, it was one of rare times he got serious and it made your hair stand on end

“What now Mr. Wilson?” Mr. Paradox asked, groaning dramatically, as if all of this was just a giant waste of his time

“W-what can I do to fix it? The timeline?”

Timeline? What the fuck was happening? You thought confused as you looked back at Wade again as he stared down Mr. Paradox

“Nothing unless you can bring Wolverine back to life in the next,” he says nonchalantly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world as he checks his watch “96 hours. But that’s impossible to-“

That little bit of information was enough to get the cogs in Wade’s brain turning as he hatched a play.

“Say less, I’m on it like a car bonnet!” Wade said cheerfully, you had no idea what the fuck that many but whatever it was Wade had set his mind too it and once his mind was set nothing was going to get in his way.

“Mr. Wilson-“ Mr. Paradox had started to say but before he could get another word out, Wade lunges forward and headbutts him full force, breaking his nose on contact, knocking him out as he snatched up the strange remote device Paradox had had in his hands.

Before you could even blink, Wade grabs you, scooping you up into his side, right under his armpit, as he opens up another one of those orange portal doors and jumps right through it with you.

The other side of the portal opens up midair and you crash land in the middle of a frozen forest. The ground and trees around you, covered in a powdery dusting of snow as a harsh wind blows over you causing you to shiver slightly, as you go to sit up you find yourself unable to move as a sharp pain shoots up your right arm.

It took a few moments to realize Wade had landed with you, more like on top of you it seemed, until you heard him groan from your back.

“I gotta get better at opening those things.” He groans, getting up.

“Sorry sugar lumps, we didn't really stick the landing there.” He said stretching his sore limbs as he gestured to your arm. It was bent at an awkward angle behind you, most definitely broken. Standing to your feet you grab at the injured appendage, popping it back into place with a loud snap and a yelp before it has a chance to heal wrong

“Ok Wade I’ve had enough of this Leon and Helena bullshit-“ you panted out still reeling from the pain of your arm.

“Ha! Resident Evil 6 humor!”

“Enough! Please just tell me what’s going on?!” You finally snap as you pull your cardigan around yourself in an attempt to block out the cold. Wade looks you over as if contemplating what to say next before he groans, running a gloved hand over his mask.

“Ah shit where do I even start?” He says as he sits down on a pile of rocks that had a makeshift stick x on top that looks suspiciously like a grave, you chose not to comment on it, as he begins to explain what had transpired over the last hour.

Apparently he was Marvel Jesus, you still didn’t get that part, and your timeline was dying. How? You weren’t entirely sure but Wade kept mumbling under his breath about some “Aussie fuck stealing his thunder from down under”, and that Mr. Paradox guy, who’s in charge of those TVA bastards that kidnapped you and Wade, was in charge of overseeing it but instead of letting it die out naturally over the next hundred years or so was going to speed up the process and now Wade only had 96 hours to fix it before everyone you knew and loved died.

“Which is why we’re here!” He said cheerfully pulling two shovels out of nowhere. Looking behind him to see where the shovels had intact come from you missed as he took a sip from his newly acquired ‘I Like Me’ mug through his mask before tossing it. “Grab your shovel jelly bean, we're hunting a Wolverine!” He said tossing the second shovel at your feet as he pulls the makeshift x grave marker from the pile of stones and starts to dig.

As soon as he said that you felt your stomach drop to your ass. That was a grave behind him, and it wasn’t just anyone’s… it was the Wolverine’s. You were digging up Wolverine to save your timeline?

“Holy shit.”

To say you idolized the guy was an understatement. When you were a kid you had all kinds of Wolverine comics and stickers, hell you still had a pair of Wolverine underwear to this day. Digging up his grave after all this time, after all that he went through in life just felt…wrong.

“You can cream your spinach later, right now we need to see if widdle Wolvie is really taking a dirt nap or not.” Chunks of dirt flew through the air as Wade kept digging, completely absorbed in his task.

“Wade this is-“ Not right you wanted to say. You start feeling your anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I can’t-!”

The sound of his shovel hitting something metal, adamantium, stopped you in your place. Tapping his shovel twice more to make sure he had actually hit something and that it wasn’t just his imagination, Wade looked over to you before turning back to what he had found, wiping away the dirt, he stared down at the now exposed decaying metallic skull of the Wolverine.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Wade stare at the corpse for a moment, lost in thought, before he raised his shovel over his head and bought it down on Wolverine’s skull over and over again, not stopping until he got even frustrated and snapped the wooden handle over his knee, no doubt breaking it in the process.

“Damn it! Son of a bitch! Fuck! Motherfucker! My world is fucked!”

He screamed, throwing the pieces of the shovel and swinging his arms as he punched at the air. It had been a long time since you had seen him this serious, albeit the last time you were quite literally dying, and it was honestly terrifying.

Your stomach sank even further at his words. Hugging your arms to yourself in an attempt to make yourself smaller you slowly approached Wade just as he was pulling the adamantium skeleton fully from the grave, dragging it over to a downed tree as he propped it up to sit cross legged by him.

“That was weird. I’m much calmer now.” He says with a chuckle, you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the corpse. “Look, I’m not a man of science, but you seem incredibly passed away. But it’s good to see ya.” he pats the corpse on the knee causing you to wrinkle your nose up in disgust as bile rises in your throat. You’d seen Wade do a lot of strange shit over the years of knowing him, but exhuming a grave of a fallen hero and having a one on one with his dead body was a whole new world for you.

“I gotta be honest, I’ve always wanted to ride with you, Logan. You and me, getting into everything. Just fucking shit up. Can you imagine the fun, the chaos, the residuals?”

You didn’t even want to know what he meant by that as you crept up next to Wade, kneeling down by his side.

“G’day, mate? There’s nothing that’ll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of metal cash.” Wade placed a finger under the corpse’s chin making its mandible move up and down as if he was talking to him, you put your arm on his to get him to stop but he just kept going as he moved to hold his masked head in his hands.

“No, no, no, no, uuuugh!” He groans dramatically as he throws his head back, thumping it on the tree trunk behind him. “He had to get all noble and die for real. God damn it! We coulda really used your help right about now Hugh.”

“Wade,” you said softly as you reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, “we’ll figure something out, there’s got to be another way right?”

Wade’s masked face turns to look at you, deep in thought, before the sound of multiple approaching footsteps pulls him out of his head. Pulling you until you were tucked between him and the tree truck, he peeks over the tree before ducking back down just as fast, cursing under his breath.

“Wade Winston Wilson! You’re under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to count, come out!” Came a booming voice over the chill of the air. You and Wade look at each other for a moment as if deciding what to do.

“This is your last chance! Throw out your weapons and come out peacefully!” The voice said again as he and a bunch of other TVA agents began to surround you.

You look Wade in his eyes again and nod, knowing he’s going to have to fight to get you both out of there. Looking around himself for anything you could use to defend yourself, his eyes land on the adamantium skeleton sitting nearby and he gets a horribly morbid idea.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons! But I promise not to use them.” He shouts back as he turns back towards you, placing a hand on your head. “Ok Nugget you know the drill.” He says so that only you can hear.

“You go right, I go left.” You nod your head towards the tree line in the background on your left.

“Good girl.” He pats you on the head one last time, tucking baby knife into your hand. “Maximum effort.” He grunted as you both stood, jumping into action. You break to the left as fast as your feet can carry you just as Wade jumps over the tree trunk pulling Wolverine's body with him.

Hearing rapid footfalls following close behind you try to pick up the pace, your lungs burning as you run, just as you reach the woods a gloved hand reaches out tangling itself in your locs before yanking you backwards. You hit the snow covered ground with an audible thud. Your head ringing and vision blurred from the impact. Just as your eyes were starting to clear, that rapid thumping noise from before came back with a vengeance.

Shaking your head to clear it you try and get back up to your feet until a black boot, steps down on your shoulder harshly. Above you stood a TVA agent, his stick pointed right at you as he glared down at you. Just as he began to lower it, you pulled baby knife from your boot, stabbing it as hard as you could through his foot.

He screams in pain as he stumbles backwards falling on his ass as he goes to pull out the knife. Scrambling back up you yank the knife from his foot before embedding it in his exposed neck. Pulling the knife back out again the fall back on your ass in shock at what you just did. You killed someone and hadn’t even hesitated. Sure you had see your fair share of people dying, thanks mostly to Wade, but never had you actually been the one doing the killing.

Before you have a chance to wallow anymore to yourself, you hear a body thud next to you and jump.

“My bad!” Wade calls as he smacks a TVA agent across the face with something that looked suspiciously like a metal femur, shattering his helmet and mostly his face on impact. “Wolverining is hard!”

“Wolverine was a hero and the only thing worth a shit to ever come out of Canada!” Shouted a voice from in front of you two, it was the same guy from before, the one who you tackled through the portal earlier, and he looked pissed. Before he had a chance to say anything else a katana goes bouncing off the ground and right through the guy’s mouth.

“Get my country’s name out of your fucking mouth.” Wade said as he walked up to the still standing body, pulling his sword out of his mouth. “And my sword, gimme that.”

Cleaning off the blade with his sleeve, Wade looks you over, checking you for injuries, something he couldn’t break himself from doing, no matter how much you told him you could heal, before pulling you to your feet.

“We gotta find us another Logan, an alive one.” He said looking around himself assessing the overall damage.

“How?” You question still trying to quiet the pounding in your head, it was starting to fade out now, only being a low murmur at the point, but it still made it hard to focus.

Pulling something from his belt, Wade holds up the remote looking device he had stolen from Mr. Paradox earlier between wiggling fingers.

“This my dear bestest pal is how.” He said opening it up and hitting a few buttons. Another orange portal opens and you stare at it in contemplation, nervousness grips your stomach as you think about what the two of you would get into on the other side of the portal. Wade goes through first holding out a hand for you from the other side. Swallowing down rising anxiety, you take up his hand following him through.

On the other side of the portal the atmosphere is much warmer, you're both in a club, a nice one at that, surrounded by other people as they mingle and converse by the bar.

“Logan I’m gonna need you to come with us!” Wade spoke over the music. Looking around the room, you wonder which of these people he was talking to, none of them really looked like a Wolverine to you.

“Who’s asking?” came a familiar voice from the bar. Turning to look to see who it was that said that, you were shocked to see a guy, about your height, with a crazy hairy torso, wearing a tight fitted black v-neck.

His face definitely screamed Wolverine to you but there was something about this man that just struck you as off.

“Look at this little Mary Lou Retton. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes, you did, comic-accurate short king.” Wade cooed to him from your side in a baby voice as he crouched down dramatically.

You frowned up as Wade as he mocked him, definitely planning to ream him out later when you, yourself, was the same height as the man he was making fun of. This Wolverine stares at you, recognition and another emotion in his eyes, that you weren’t sure of as his nostrils flared and they took in yours and Wade’s, no doubt horrific, scents. Just as you were about to tell Wade that this Wolverine would work, another orange portal opens up behind you and he dragging you inside with him.

“Cue the fucking montage, baby.”

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Heard Through the Grapevine (König/Fem!Reader)

Summary: There were always crazy rumors whirling around military bases and KorTac was no different. König, in particular, was often the victim of the most vicious rumors. Despite knowing her opinion is unpopular, the lovely reader refuses to partake in spreading the lies and often stands up against them instead, all while trying to battle her growing feelings for the quiet colonel. 

Word count: ~9K

A/N: Some use of Y/N. Reader’s description is left rather vague but there are details of her being short, chubby, and with hair long enough to pull back. Reader is aged between her mid-twenties to mid-thirties. While König has no exact canon age, in this fic he will be somewhere around 40 (an age range I’ve seen people come to match with his ranking as colonel). König has anxiety, reader has anxiety, we ALL have anxiety. Slightly possible medical inaccuracies- While I am a nurse, I am not an AP or Emergency Room nurse so I’ve never done stitches myself. I’m using my basic medical knowledge, what I’ve learned in classes, and Google. So please forgive any inaccuracies! As always, I've never played COD. No beta we die like Graves.

TW: Porn with minor plot. Romance and smut. Slight age gap (reader is somewhere around 5-15 years younger than König). Size kink, mild innocence kink(?) dom/sub themes, M!dom/F!sub, major power play, praise-degradation, accent/language kink, voice kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, and loottss of pet names (I’m a whore for pet names) in both German and English. Mentions of violence. Talk of blood, wounds, and stitching in a medical setting. 

Simple Translations (Longer translations will be included next to their sentences!):

Scheiße - Shit

Kleines - Little one

Kätzchen - Kitten

Schätzchen - Sweetheart

Liebling - Darling/Love

“You can’t say he doesn’t terrify you!” 

Your friend’s words scoffed through a mouth full of pizza made you grimace for multiple reasons, a shrug of your shoulders being your only answer as you dug back into your mashed potatoes. 

“Seriously, Y/N?” Mark pressed harder with obvious disbelief. 

“What?” you retorted sharply, “Is it so hard to believe I’m not scared of the colonel just because he’s a big guy?” 

 “Then what’s with the way you look at him?” your best friend, Lisa, added, unable to hide the coy smirk growing.

A heavy sigh left your lungs and you dropped your spoon onto your plate, directing a deadpan look at the both of them as you realized they were not going to drop the subject. 

Damn her and her mischievous nature. She was the only one who knew even a little about your hidden feelings for König, having been spilled one late night under the stars after far too many drinks, and she hadn’t stopped giving you shit for it since. Thankfully, she was a good friend and didn’t air out your personal laundry to anybody; not even your other mutual friends. However, that didn’t stop her from teasing you at every turn possible. Like now. The whole topic was a stupid subject in your eyes, brought on by the recent rumors about König having decapitated a new recruit for looking at him wrong. Ridiculous, unbelievable, and yet people wouldn’t let it go. It made you feel a kinship for the big man. Though for different reasons, you’d been the subject of many rumors over your life, having been picked on and subjected to bullshit drama simply because of your weight. Perhaps that was the biggest trigger of it all, but the fact you truly liked König was certainly a major supporting factor.

“Colonel König is intimidating, yes, but most men are intimidating; save for the present company,” you shot back with a little grin, earning a scowl from said man, “Nonetheless, I’m not scared of him. He’s never raised his voice at me, nor given me a reason to believe those stupid fucking rumors people want to spread about him. He’s always treated me with respect, more than any of the other cocky bastards around here do really. Those stupid rumors come from people who are jealous of him, either his rank or his superior physical condition, OR from people who have nothing better to do with their downtime than come up with spooky stories.”

Your best friend’s eyes went owlish in shock, pulling the corners of your lips into a frown of frustration at her childish behavior, and you prodded her shin gently beneath the table. 

“For fuck's sake, stop looking at me like that. You know I respect and even like the colonel, okay? So no matter what silly shit floats around, I’m not going to believe a word of it until the day I see these supposed cruel actions in person,” you sighed, then pled with her softly, “Just- Just drop it, please.”

When she didn’t respond, you felt a prickle of uncertainty send the hairs on the back of your neck on end. You tried to catch her gaze only to see it traveling off to your right before finally coming back your way with a nervous laugh. 

“I- I didn’t realize it but… he was sitting behind you,” she murmured softly. 

Spine snapping straight, you gaped at her in shock. 

“No way, you’re joking, right?” you hissed. 

The slow shake of her head made your heart fall into your guts, pounding heavily in your veins as you nervously turned in the direction she had looked, only to find him putting up his dirty dishes and exiting the room. 

“Mother fucker!” you groaned, “So- So he heard all of that?!” 

When she nodded, you were almost sure you were going to faint. You and König were on good terms as nurse and patient but that didn’t mean you wanted him to think (however correct it was) that you had some kind of crush on him with how adamantly you defended him. 

Food suddenly didn’t seem so appetizing with the nerves buzzing in your stomach. Pushing your plate away, you got up from the table and quickly dismissed yourself with the excuse of paperwork piling up on your desk. It wasn’t a complete lie at least. Medical documentation was never-ending, especially in a military base with accident-prone soldiers. You only hoped you could make it back to the medical wing without running into the big man himself and making things more awkward. 

Dumping your food, you shoved the plate into the dirty dish bin and rushed out into the hall. You were grateful to find the foot traffic minimal, allowing you to cross the base as quickly as your short legs could carry you. Your anxiety was already high enough with the worries of what König now thought; adding another unknown variable into the mix would spell certain disaster for your mental stability.  

The instant you stepped foot into the medbay and found it empty, you shut and locked the office door before snagging up one of the throw pillows off the old beaten-up couch and screaming into said pillow with all of your might. You screamed and screamed, until your throat hurt and your heart pounded loud in your ears, until you felt that nervous buzz of panic fade from your skin and leave exhaustion behind. 

“I’m gonna need a fucking drink tonight,” you sighed as you dropped into your computer chair, “She’s gonna owe me for this shit.” 

With that last thought, you fell back into the monotonous routine of finishing up charts and notes from the day. 

The next few hours passed quickly into days and days into weeks, time flying by in a blur as you buried yourself in your work and your patients in hopes of forgetting your troubles. You were both relieved and frustrated that you hadn’t seen the colonel at all during that time; relieved you wouldn’t have to deal with an awkward situation but frustrated because, despite the anxiety, you missed his presence. It wasn’t until Horangi assisted a hunched-over König into the office three weeks later that you realized he’d been gone on a mission during that time, a mission that had obviously gone askew. Immediately you jumped to your feet and ushered the duo over, prepared to balance the injured giant on his other side if necessary.

“What happened?” you demanded as Horangi helped König sit on the medical bed. 

“Nothing serious,” König replied, letting out a hiss when Horangi jerked his hand away and none-too-gently removed the makeshift bandage from the bigger man’s side.

A shudder ran down your spine at the amount of drying blood shining against his tight black shirt and then you eyed the tear in the fabric. His pale flesh was covered in different states of drying blood but the bleeding of the visceral wound seemed to be, thankfully, stopped for the time being.

“Good god, not serious?!” you snapped in disbelief. 

König had the gall to roll his eyes as you muttered to yourself about men being stupid and stubborn. As you leaned in closer to examine the gash, Horangi moved aside to give you room. Luckily, the cut looked relatively clean but the depth of it was concerning, with multiple layers of tissue peeking through the wound. 

“Hey, I’m going to debrief with the general,” Horangi commented suddenly, “I’ll let him know you’re getting fixed up first.” 

König gave a small nod in reply as the other operator left the room and you stepped back with a half-smile. 

“I’m going to have to stitch that up. If you’re not comfortable with me doing it, I can call the doctor in but I have done them plenty before if-”

“Ja, I want you to do it,” he cut you off quickly. 

That wasn’t a surprise. Nobody enjoyed having to call one of the docs in during the middle of the night unless it was for a dire emergency because they were all, understandably, cranky when woken. 

“That’s fine,” you agreed, biting your lower lip before gesturing at him and adding, “I- I’ll need you to remove your shirt so I can get a better look and stitch you up.”

König let out a noise of understanding as you turned away to wash your hands and grab out all of the necessary equipment you’d need for the stitches. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t deep enough to have chanced any vital areas, especially since it was on his side, but there was no doubt it was still deep enough that it wouldn’t heal properly without treatment. How he was even upright and talking like normal was beyond you. You were just glad you had been an RN in the emergency room before transferring to KorTac, your time there invaluable for all the shit you’d had to put up with here between busy doctors and never-ending patients. 

“Alrighty, let’s get this show on the… road”

As your gaze met bare, toned, skin, your brain immediately melted into nothingness. Gone were all the years of medical training and college; all that remained were the hormones of a bitch in heat. Never, in the entire year you’d worked with KorTac, had you ever seen him shirtless. He was hardly in here, between his elite skills and natural resilience against being hurt, and the only times he had been were generally for serious things that the doctor would have to take care of, or for routine visits that wouldn’t require him shirtless. So to say you were struck dumb was an understatement. 

Logically, you had known König was fit. It was practically written in all of their contracts to stay in peak physical condition, and the compression shirts he wore did nothing to hide the defined muscles in his arms and stomach, but seeing him without the fabric was even more daunting than you had expected. 

“Schätzchen?” he asked softly, voice full of something that sounded like concern. 

His gloved fingers touching your face finally jerked you out of your entirely inappropriate fantasy of getting the chance to lick up and down his abdomen and you nearly squeaked in shock, barely concealing the noise by clearing your throat. 

“Uh, sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me, uh, okay. Can you lie down for me, please? I’m sure you know this works but I’m gonna numb you up first. It’s probably going to sting,” you warned him.

Setting the equipment on the metal rolling table, you took the last terrifying steps toward him and it took everything in your power not to moan as you realized you were directly face to face with firm pecs until he finally sat. You managed to shake away the lustful thoughts on your own this time and pulled on gloves before grabbing up the syringe. 

“Ready?” you asked, not daring to meet his eyes lest you get too flustered to work. 

“Ja, go ahead,” he rumbled. 

With a steadying breath, you carefully poked the needle into the top layers of the wound and pushed the plunger down slowly. You’d seen other soldiers cry over the pain of a lidocaine injection into an open wound, not that you could blame them, but, of course, König took it all without even flinching. The man really acted like he was made of stone. It was insane. 

“That should kick in in just a few,” you murmured, capping the needle and placing it into the sharps container, “Wanna tell me what happened while we wait?” 

Feeling safe back near the cabinets rather than within arms reach, you finally let your eyes find him and watched in disbelief as he sat up without even a wince, cool blue eyes clear and steady.  

“Ah, nothing serious. There was one hidden upstairs and we didn’t realize it until- well, this,” he replied after a moment, gesturing to his side with a half-chuckle half-sigh. 

A frown turned down your lips at that. God, you really had it lucky, sitting here in your cushy position as a nurse. Sure, the hours sucked, and seeing people hurt (or god forbid worse) really sucked, but at least your life was never in danger like theirs. You hated thinking about him getting hurt like this, no matter how silly it was since he could obviously take care of himself. Swallowing hard, you nodded and grabbed another fresh pair of gloves, snapping them on with a forced smile. 

“Well, I’d hate to see the other guy then,” you teased softly.

It was a joke, and yet it wasn’t. You had no doubt his assailant hadn’t made it out of there in one piece. 

“Let’s just say, not even a talented nurse such as yourself could help him when I was done with him,” he replied.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how his eyes crinkled beneath the faded black smudges, further conveying the amusement lacing his tone. 

“I bet. I know I wouldn’t want to be your enemy, colonel,” you snickered, “Okay, lie down again for me please.”   

König leaned back with a little groan and tucked his right hand behind his head, keeping the angle perfect to avoid stretching or squishing the skin around the wound. There was a comfortable silence as you readied the needle with thread in the driver. You gave him a testing tap around the wound, to which he quickly affirmed he felt nothing before you got to work. You quickly cleaned the area, put a clean drape around it, and then snagged up the needle. It had been a bit since you’d done sutures on such a wound but you quickly fell back into the familiar rhythm with simple interrupted stitches. 

“You’re rather good at that,” he complimented quietly.

You felt your cheeks warm at the praise as you sent him a warm smile and replied, “Thank you. It’s nice to know I haven’t lost my touch since leaving the emergency department.” 

“Oh? What made you decide to come here instead?” 

Well, this was new. While König was always kind to you, it generally never went beyond small talk. You knew as much about him as he did you, though you couldn’t lie and say you were complaining about the change. That little fangirl you tried to hide so deep inside was dancing with elation over the fact that he was trying to keep a conversation going, but it wasn’t helping your little crush one bit.  

“Honestly? Better pay and escape from a bad home situation,” you admitted honestly, “I just didn’t have a great environment to accel in and when my cousin mentioned joining you guys, it just made sense.”  

Tying the last end into a square knot, you snipped off the extra thread and stood with a proud smile, examining your handiwork happily. 

“Gotta say, you’re a model patient, colonel. I don’t wanna see you in here for this again though,” you playfully scolded. 

As you turned away, you were startled by a sudden deep laugh. Not a chuckle or a snort, but a full-on belly laugh, and you were absolutely certain you’d never heard anything more beautiful.  

“And here I was thinking about getting stabbed again just so I could see meine süße kleine krankenschwester.” (My sweet little nurse)

“Hey, no using languages I can’t understand,” you retorted with a giggle, ducking your face in hopes of hiding the way your cheeks flushed with lust at the sound of his mother tongue. 

Why was that so sexy, hearing him speak German? Not that his speaking normally didn’t affect you but, when he fell into his old language, it just did something different. Another laugh rumbled from the man as you went about cleaning up the utensils and you had to grin. You knew, going forward, you’d do anything you could to hear that laugh again. A small glimmer of hope flickered to life in your chest as you ungloved and tossed them in the trash. Maybe this was the beginning of an actual friendship… or more.

As you scolded yourself over the lofty dreams, a presence against your back put a sudden stop to your motions, every last bit of you freezing in place except your heart which pounded valiantly in your veins. 

“You- You shouldn’t- shouldn’t move around so much,” you whispered breathlessly as you tried to shake off the sudden nerves, “Don’t wanna rip your stitches out already.” 

He was all but impossible to ignore, standing so close that you were certain you’d bump into him if you breathed too hard. Taking a small stabilizing breath, your eyes closed in frustration as you caught his scent, the faint smell of sweat, gunpowder, and something spiced, possibly a faded cologne or body wash overtaking your senses. It took all of your will to keep moving and cleaning up as if everything was normal. As you grabbed the antiseptic, you could visibly see the way your hands shook and mentally berated yourself. You were literally just sticking a needle into his side minutes ago. Why was this affecting you so much?! 

You grabbed onto the counter for balance and lifted onto tiptoe only to have the bottle suddenly snagged from you and shelved in its spot just barely within your reach. It would have been completely fine, a nice gesture even, if it weren’t for the fact he had to lean against you to do it. With his free hand resting against your waist for balance, you could feel every- single- fucking- inch of his form against yours. Forbidden images of him taking you right there against the counter flooded your thoughts when you got a very personal feel of his dick against your lower back, completely prominent in its shape even while soft.

The fates were fucking testing you to the ends of your limits at that point. 

“You should get a step stool, kleines, don’t want to hurt yourself,” he mused quietly.

A shaky nod was all you could manage, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the solid countertop and holding on for dear life. You couldn’t find it in you to reply with the mortifying lust clouding your mind. With your luck, instead of thanking him you’d ask to repay the favor with a blowjob. 

Deep breaths. In and out. After a few moments, you knew you should respond. You had to do something to diffuse the situation because he was obviously content to let you stew in your thoughts.  

“You- You- Uhm, you should go rest,” you stammered out after a moment.

And then he was gone. The instant he stepped away, you nearly dropped to the floor, your knees weak and back now startlingly cold. Tucking some hair behind your ear, you spun around and prepared to give him the usual medical spiel about resting and letting the wound heal, only to lose the ability to speak when a large hand cupped your jaw. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His voice was soft, warm with a tinge of amusement dancing at the edges, and suddenly you remembered the stupid conversation you’d had with your friends in the canteen. Your tongue felt thick and immovable so you settled for shaking your head no, trying to convey that he, in fact, hadn’t scared you.

“No? No, what?” he asked. 

Swallowing down the urge to moan, you shakily replied, “You don’t- didn’t scare me.” 

Your plump cheeks burned hot at the way his icy blue eyes subtly changed, lids lowering into an indiscernible expression as his irises searched your face thoroughly. 

“Are you sure? You’re suddenly much quieter, Schätzchen.”

A little curse escaped before you could catch it as you subconsciously melted into his hand when his thumb started stroking your jawline. The calloused texture rubbed deliciously against your soft skin and sent goosebumps down your arms.    

“I-I’m sure,” you answered, voice barely audible even in the silent room, “Just… unexpected.” 

When he leaned down and hovered just above your ear, you swore you were about to combust. He was close, too fucking close. Delectably within reach and yet so far away in the ways that mattered. Your thighs clenched together in search of some kind of relief when his scent infiltrated your senses again, the same as before but so much stronger, and you couldn’t help the way your stomach fluttered traitorously. 

“That’s all, hmm?” he rumbled lowly. 

Oh. That bastard! He knew what he was doing to you and he was teasing you about it! How was this the same quiet colonel that you practically had to bully into saying more than a few words just a couple of weeks prior? You lifted your hands and prepared to shove him away, to give him a piece of your mind, but he threw you another curveball with the sudden sensation of soft lips against your throat.

“Ah!” 

This time, your gasp was loud, rivaled only by the pounding thump of your heart threatening to burst from your chest. 

“I asked you a question, kleines, I expect an answer.”

A truly pathetic whine fell from your lips as your head fell to rest against his shoulder. How were you supposed to answer him?! Your tongue felt thick and immovable as you soaked in the sensation of his skin against yours.  

“König, please, I don’t- I don’t understand what you want here,” you finally managed to croak through parted lips. 

He let out a small hum but didn’t answer right away. His lips busied themselves trailing barely-there kisses up and down the side of your neck. When you felt his nose brush against your ear, you nearly jumped. Every touch threatened to make you come apart right then and there and it was quickly becoming too much.

“Is- Is this about what I said a few weeks ago?” you pushed for an answer. 

Pausing in his thorough exploration of your flesh, he let out a little breath before humming back, “Mmhmm. Imagine my surprise when I heard you defending me, Schätzchen, heard you tell your little friends so certainly that you were not scared of me; that you even liked me.”

Your nails instinctively dug into his bare arms as you fought for your sanity, his teeth scraping your neck and raveling away what little sensibilities you had left. 

“At first, I doubted what I heard,” he spoke as his hands took hold of your hips and squeezed softly, “You are so soft and sweet. Untouchable to someone like me. I’ve spent the last few weeks debating, agonizing over if you might feel what I felt. Tonight though, with the way you looked at me? I could finally see it.” 

When he pulled back, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze again but he was quick to correct that with a little nudge. 

“Still so shy.”

Your thoughts were running a thousand miles an hour; fear, lust, and disbelief were shouting at you in so many different ways that you thought you would pass out from overstimulation alone. While you’d thought about this happening almost every night since you’d first talked with him, you’d always assumed he would be a fantasy only. You never imagined the quiet, steadfast, colonel would ever have a mutual interest in you. Part of you wanted to drop to your knees and thank him for even touching you, while the other waited with panic-laced worries for him to announce that it was some kind of prank. 

When his calloused fingers trailed up your face and into your hair to scrape your scalp, it was like he flipped a magical switch. Gone were the panicked thoughts, the uncertainties, and the insecurities. All that existed were the beautiful sensations he created. 

“Does that feel good?” he asked. 

You nodded dumbly and let your eyes flutter back open as you heard him laugh, flushing with desire as you were once more pinned with those gorgeous eyes of his. 

“This isn’t some kind of joke, is it?” you finally questioned, managing to get somewhat of a grip on your psyche, “Because if it is, I’ll-” 

A sharp sting through your scalp cut you off as he tightened his fingers in your hair, following your silence with disappointed tongue clicks. 

“Do I really seem like the kind of man who would joke about something like this?” 

You shook your head slowly, muttering a defeated little “No sir” in response. Your efforts were rewarded with the release of your hair, hand tenderly cupping the nape of your neck instead. 

“I need to hear you say you want this before it goes any further,” he instructed you, firmly but gently.    

As your lips parted, you hesitated. Of course, you wanted this, but here? Now? Your eyes darted nervously to the cracked door before catching his once more. 

“I- I do but… König, anyone could come in and, god, you’re hurt and-”

You watched in awe, voice trailing off into silence, as he leaned in and pulled up his sniper hood, revealing a black gaiter which he promptly tugged down. The peek of a strong, square, jawline peppered with a short stubble made your eyes open wide in shock but your attention was quickly captured by his full lips, curled up into a smirk with a peek of sharp canines flashing through. Fuck, if only part of him was this gorgeous, you were afraid to see him completely bare. 

“As I have said, it’s not serious, and you’ve so graciously patched me up,” he purred softly, eyes boring holes into your sole as his lips almost touched yours, “Now, tell me kleines, do- you- want- this?”

“Yes, god, ple-”

Fingers dug hard into your soft sides as he finally captured your mouth in a gentle kiss and you instinctively stretched up to meet him, hands sliding up to wrap around the back of his neck in an attempt to convey just how badly you wanted him. Words weren’t your forte but actions… actions you could manage. 

A quiet groan escaped your lips as you felt his hips press against yours and hands came down to grab your ass. Your shock quickly turned into concern when you felt him start to lift you. 

“König, no!” you scolded him as you wiggled out of his grasp. 

The colonel had the gall to look confused by your rejection. 

You gestured to his freshly sewn stitches and bit out, “I don’t care how much you say it’s fine. I refuse to be the reason you pop your stitches and I’d rather not have to put a needle in your again. Just…” 

Your stern words trailed off as you saw the mild pink tinge across his upper cheeks. He was too adorable. Huffing out a low sigh, you rested your hands against his firm pecs and gently pushed him back toward the bed. 

“Lay down, I’m shutting the door real quick.”

Thankfully, he didn’t bother arguing, just turned with an annoyed grunt as you shut and locked the door. The annoyance in his eyes dropped the instant you carefully climbed up onto the bed with him, letting him guide you to sit over his thighs comfortably. 

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it in a way that you won’t get hurt,” you warned him. 

“Verdammte Hölle,” he scoffed lowly, fingers digging into the plush softness of your thighs, “Fine, if you insist, just get over here.” 

A gasp passed from your lips into his when he dragged you in closer and you felt the bulge of his cock already growing through his cargos. And what a fucking power rush that was, to know you were affecting one of the strongest men in existence. You! A short, chubby, nobody-famous nurse and this god-like man wanted you. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out quietly, hands coming to rest on his chest as he guided your hips down against his, “König, I said-”

“You may be on top of me, but you are in no way in control, understood, Kätzchen?” he bit out huskily. 

Your heart stammered in your chest but you managed a little nod in response. Apparently subdued by your acceptance, his hands spurred you into motion once more, tearing a broken moan from your chest as his hardness pressed deliciously against the apex of your thighs. Even though clothing, he was working you up entirely too easily.  

He attacked your neck once more and growled out a terse, “Scheiße, I always knew you’d sound fucking beautiful like this. Mein kleines engel, so verdammt unschuldig und süß.” (My little angel, so fucking innocent and sweet)

While you had no idea what he said, it was clearly something sexual and you couldn’t help the way you shuddered. It was kind of funny. When you first met him, you’d been shocked by the pitch of his voice, having expected such a giant being to have a deep voice; and now… now you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Oh? Magst du es, wenn ich mit dir Deutsch spreche, mein dummes kleines Kätzchen?” (“Do you like when I speak German to you, my silly little kitten?”)

Instinctively, you ground down in search of relief as his voice filled your head and took over your thoughts. 

He chuckled softly and murmured, “You do like it. I can feel the way your sweet little cunt throbs against me each time. Do you always react this way when I speak German around you?” 

Your body froze at that, face heating and flushing down your chest as you finally understood what he was saying. No fucking way.

“You- You can feel it?” you asked meekly, hoping he’d say no. 

“Mmhmm, Deine kleinen Zuckungen sind so süß- Ah, there is it again,” he teased, “So, kleines? Is it like that every time?” (Your little twitches are so cute)

With a frustrated groan, you quietly admitted it before ducking down to bite onto his shoulder. You felt a thrill of satisfaction when you felt his cock jump between your thighs but didn’t even stop to gloat, too enthralled by the taste of his skin. You didn’t dare leave marks, unsure of the protocol for his position, but gods you wanted to. Maybe another time, if you were given the chance. Scraping your teeth across his flesh, you scooted back to sit farther down his thighs and began to make your way down his collarbone and chest until you were able to gently bite the meatiest part of his pec. 

“Ah, Scheiße!”

Before he could react further, you continued on and swiped your tongue across his nipple, earning a guttural moan and his fingers curled into the hair at the back of your head. For a moment, you questioned if he intended to stop you but, when he didn’t, you did it again. The little muffled curses he let out only worsened the mess in your panties and you had to restrain yourself from reaching down to ease the ache. It wasn’t until you were kneeling between his thighs and working at his belt that he finally stopped you.

“Kätzchen, just what do you intend to do?” he asked as you nibbled softly at the skin above his pants. 

You let out a huff and rolled your eyes up at him. 

“I intend to suck your cock, if that’s okay, colonel,” you shot back. 

He mumbled something quietly under his breath then added louder, “While I would love that, I don’t know how much time we have.” 

As you finally worked his belt open and began tugging his pants down, you couldn’t help but pout. 

“That’s not fair. Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” you whined. 

The way his eyes rolled back and his hips arched made you grin. 

“And I would love to see those beautiful lips wrapped around my dick, but another time, kleines. Right now, I need to be inside of you.”

Your cunt clenched instinctively at that, at the promise of another chance to touch him, and you finally relented with a sigh. 

“Fine, fine, but you owe me later,” you replied, letting him pull you back over his lap. 

With a chuckle, he pulled you into a kiss and mumbled, “Of course, Schätzchen. Anything you wish, whenever you wish- except for right now.”

A flush crossed your face, deep and hot, as his words settled into your chest. When he began tugging at your jeans, you helped slide them and your panties down until they were hooked around just one leg. You weren’t given much time to ruminate on the feeling of your bare flesh against the scratchy fabric of his pants before the sensation of calloused fingers sliding down your slit stole both your attention and breath. 

“Ooh, look at you,” he crooned lowly, fingertips pushing between your lips and sliding back up until he found your clit, “So wet for me already.” 

Worrying your lower lip, your forehead rested against his cheek and your nails dug into his shoulders as you nodded slowly. Of course, you were. Who wouldn’t be when Adonis was touching them? He moved slowly, gently, almost as if afraid to go faster. It felt good but it wasn’t enough. 

“Ich wünschte, ich könnte jetzt meine Zunge in dieser heißen kleinen Muschi haben. Ich wette, du schmeckst himmlisch.” (I wish I could have my tongue in this hot little pussy right now. I bet you taste like heaven.)

“Ffff-Fuck!”

A broken whine escaped your lips when he finally slipped a lone finger into your core and it took everything within you not to collapse at that moment. One of his felt like two of yours but reached even deeper. You couldn’t resist rocking into his motions as he carefully worked you open. 

You didn’t even get a chance to cover your mouth before he suddenly forced in a second one and curled them against your g-spot, a moan spilling from the big man beneath you as you mewled.  

“More,” he demanded as his other hand tugged up his hood once more and smashed his mouth against yours, “Again.” 

You didn’t stand a chance in hell at ignoring his commands with the way he began hooking his fingers in a constant come hither motion against your spongy patch of nerves. Tears burned in your eyes as you fought for breath against the onslaught of sensations plaguing your body. It’d been so long since you’d let anyone else touch you, relying on your own hand and toys for release, and fuck if it wasn’t overwhelming. 

“König, ple-please!” you begged weakly, unable to keep from trembling against him as he brought you dangerously close to the edge. 

For all his talk about not having time, he was surely taking his. His fingers felt incredible but you needed to feel his cock. 

“Yes, Kätzchen?”

“Want you. Need you, please!”

His low moan was the only answer you needed, shaky hands diving down to work the waistband of his pants lower and tug at his boxer-briefs. You couldn’t even keep your eyes open to focus, too lost in the delirium of your approaching climax and the pleasure dancing along your skin. 

When you finally pulled him free, you instantly shoved his hand away and shuffled up until his tip was kissing your entrance, but he halted your motions before you could do more. 

“Don’t go too fast, alright? I don’t want you to get hurt,” he instructed you gently. 

You barely managed to open your eyes enough to meet his and nodded hastily. Go slow. You could do that. And yet, when he finally allowed you to move, you were tempted to just slam down, no matter how massive he felt. However, your self-control prevailed, only held back by the reminder that he’d probably stop you if you got hurt. 

It wasn’t until you started to lower yourself and you felt the fat head of his cock begin to split you open that you really understood why he’d been warning you, prickles of pain and pleasure dancing behind your clenched eyes as you sucked in a harsh breath. It didn’t matter that you were soaking wet and more than ready, your body was fighting to take each inch. 

“That’s it, gutes Kätzchen, just like that,” he praised softly. (Good Kitten)

Finally, after what felt like forever, your hips settled down against his and you let out a little mewl of satisfaction. 

“Jesus fuck,” you breathed out huskily, “This feels- Fuck, I can’t even describe it.”

“I know.” 

His voice sounded as tightly wound as you felt. Every muscle in your body ached but none more than the throb of your core. 

“Can- Can I move?” you asked. 

“If you’re ready.”

Steading yourself with his broad shoulders, you lifted up and slowly dropped back down, nails digging into his skin as he touched every last inch inside of you. When your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks bloomed a deep red as you found him already staring at you with awe in his gaze. It would have been anxiety-inducing if it weren’t for the bruises his fingers were leaving on your hips and the quiet little grunts falling under his hood. Knowing he was watching you though, it was daunting and lit a flicker of doubt in your chest, demanding you do everything to make sure you looked and felt your best for him. 

“Ah, wait, here,” he gasped suddenly, halting your motions as he tugged up your T-shirt.

You almost stopped him, wary of fully exposing any parts of you that you felt uncomfortable about, but he was too quick. He tucked the hem into the neckline of your shirt and instantly tugged down the cup of your bra, one hand wrapping around and lifting your breast while the other hand palmed your back and jerked you forward until he could wrap his lips around your nipple with a heady groan. 

“Fuck, König!” you whimpered, shocks of bliss making you pulse around his cock.

His moan was loud against your flesh as his hand left your back and guided your hips into motion once more, the dual stimulation enough to make you shudder. Bit by bit, you were able to work up to a faster pace, until pleasure started to take hold of your mind and you lost all sense of rhythm, more focused on coming than putting on a good show. 

“Ohgodohgod ohmygod!” 

A heavy growl vibrated against your skin as he grunted out between kisses, “Oh Gott, das ist es Kätzchen, kommst du mich holen?” (Oh god, that’s it kitten, are you going to come for me?)

You buried your frantic cries into your palm as you felt tears begin to fall. It was too good, too much, and you fucking loved it. The burn of his cock stretching your walls brought you so close to the edge that it hurt, each thrust making your clit throb with need. You managed a panicked, muffled, plea and were rewarded with teeth sinking into your flesh and a calloused thumb on your sensitive nub, tearing a hellish screech from your lips as you were instantly pushed over the edge. Your hand barely contained the frantic moans pouring from your throat as he pushed you through the crest. Every swipe of his thumb and thrust of his cock brought on another wave of pleasure, again and again until you lost the ability to do more than exist. 

With an audible pop, he pulled back from your abused skin and relaxed back against the bed, moans starting to rival yours in volume as his hands took hold of your hips and his knees bent under you. When he started thrusting up to meet each bounce of your hips, the fog finally took over completely. Leaning back enough to wrap your hands around his forearms, you gave over that last bit of control and just followed his lead. The sound of your ass meeting his thighs became louder, faster, in the quiet room; a lewd soundtrack coupled with the squeaks of the medical bed and your unstifled noises of pleasure.

“Mein gott. Look at that face. Not a single thought going through that sweet little head of yours, is there?” he groaned, chuckling when you suddenly leaned forward and buried your face in his neck with a meek hum, “No, no, don’t be embarrassed, kleines. It’s a compliment to have such an intelligent woman so brainless from my cock.”

You instinctively clenched around him and nuzzled further into his neck out of mortification. God, that shouldn’t be hot! You shouldn’t like that and yet you do. How did he manage to weave together such sexual praises into something that sounded like genuinely sweet compliments? 

“Sit back up, now,” he commanded sternly, “I want to see that beautiful face when I come.”

The change in position instantly put your senses back on edge, the press of his cock against your sweet spot all too tantalizingly perfect as he muttered gentle praises and led you back into rhythm, words slowly dissolving into the most unholy whimpers and grunts you’d ever heard. It wasn’t long until you couldn’t make out a single thing he said, English long evolved into German between frantic moans of your name. 

Suddenly his grip became overwhelmingly painful and you let out a squeal of panic, but the pressure was easily forgotten in favor of bliss as he began to thrust into you violently. It was almost as if he were trying to fuck himself into your cervix, a scary thought knowing he had the length to do so, but every attempt you made to lift off of him and create space was thwarted by his superior strength. And gods, if that didn’t do the dirtiest things to you. Even when he released one hip, he was powerful enough to keep you in place with just one hand, the other suddenly reappearing between your thighs. 

“Oh- Oh god, yes, König, just-” 

All it took was a few circles around your sensitive clit before you were thrown over the edge once more with a scream. Wave after wave rocked through your body as you rode him hard, thighs shaking and heart pounding as you scratched at him and cried his name all too loudly.  

“Oh Scheiße, ich werde kommen, bitte, nicht aufhören, nicht aufhören, bitte, bitte, bitte!” (Oh shit, I'm gonna come, please, don't stop, don't stop, please please please!)

Even in German, his message was clear. Fighting through your own hazy pleasure, you tightened your thighs and clenched around his cock eagerly, whimpering his name and pleading with him to come. You weren’t given any warning as he suddenly grabbed your neck and jerked you down into a ravenous kiss, a mixture of high-pitched keening and growling moans pouring into your mouth like oxygen when he buried himself one last time to the hilt. 

Tremors ran through your being as you felt his cock twitching, heat filling you with each pulse, and you couldn’t help the tears suddenly building in your eyes again. 

“Holy fuck,” you whined against his lips. 

When you clenched around him again and tried to move your hips, he put a stop to it immediately, arms wrapping around you and trapping your body to his. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hissed darkly, “You start that andI won’t want to stop, and we definitely don’t have time for that.”  

A little grin crossed your lips as you melted into his hold and murmured, “Aye, aye, colonel.” 

His little snort of a laugh jostled you against his frame only for him to still and hold you tighter. You turned to rest your ear against his chest and listened to the steady heavy beat of his heart while your fingers trailed up and down his arms. 

“That was okay, right?” he asked after a moment, the uncertainty surprising. 

It took some effort to get him to let you go but you managed to finally sit up, hands slowly pushing up the edges of his mask to just until his lips were visible again, and you kissed him softly. 

“Better than I’ve imagined,” you whispered softly. 

He tensed for a moment before a little huff of a laugh puffed across your lips. 

“You’ve imagined this?” he asked back. 

Chewing your lower lip as you lifted again, you gave a shrug and replied, “Yeah, a lot, if I’m being honest. As you heard, you’re an intimidating man, colonel, but really, it only adds to your appeal.” 

It felt weird to be so openly blunt about your attraction to him but you supposed you were past the point of second-guessing things. His eyes searched your face intently for just a moment before he smiled, a warm, heart-pounding expression that made your knees weak. Fuck, maybe he hid his face for that reason. It wouldn’t do to have everyone tripping over themselves at his beauty. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, “As much as I want to hold you longer, I’m afraid we should get decent before someone comes along and-”

“Fuck, yeah, you’re right!” you gasped, eyes darting to the door instinctively as you clambered off the bed. 

The moment you released your hold on him, your knees tried to give out but he was quick to give you a balancing hand. You thanked him quietly as you fixed yourself quickly- Well, as quickly as you could when your legs felt like jelly and your head was still spinning. When you were finally all dressed, he was carefully sliding his shirt back on. 

“Wait, let me make sure we didn’t tear anything loose.”

He gave you a look that told you how ridiculous he thought you were being, but he humored you with a sigh after a moment. Leaning in, you looked over the stitches and were happy to find everything still intact. 

“Good to go! Thank goodness,” you sighed happily, then flushed as you looked up at him, “Uh, you’ll have to come back in seven to ten days to get the stitches removed, which I’m sure you know. Other than that, just take it easy. Any damage you do will only prolong how long you’ll have to be on light duty.” 

“I see, and if I need assistance with any in the meantime? I can come to you?” he teased, eyes crinkling warmly at the edges.

Unable to hold in your grin, you replied, “Always. I’d be glad to help with anything you need, colonel. Just come find me.”

You tossed him a coy smile before making your way to the door, only to get spun and pushed up against the wood without warning. One big hand cupped your neck and forced your head up as he leaned in and kissed you, soft and light in a way that made your toes curl. 

“Sorry, needed one more,” he purred softly, chuckling as your face went hot. 

“Get out of here before I make up a reason to keep you here overnight,” you bit out teasingly. 

He gave you a mock salute before releasing you and allowing you to open the door. His gaze became soft once more when he studied you as you leaned against the door frame. 

“I’ll see you again soon. Have sweet dreams, Kätzchen.” 

“You too, König.”

When he finally walked away down the hall, you couldn’t help but watch him go. God, that man had the most perfect ass, and don’t even get started on that broad back. Biting back the flare of lust threatening to rekindle in your stomach, you ducked back into the office and ran a hand through your now-tangled locks, letting out a low sigh. The clock on the wall read two thirty in the morning, which meant you thirty minutes to get König’s chart typed up and then you could finally head home for the night. Thoughts of a hot shower and your soft bed had you groaning. Yeah, you were definitely going to sleep good tonight. 

…

“Sooo, how was your weekend?” Lisa asked, eyebrows jumping up and down in anticipation as you slid into the seat opposite her and Mark. 

You simply threw her a nonplussed look, not daring to give her any inclination. Lisa was good about keeping your feelings secret but you weren’t sure she could contain herself in public if you told her about what had happened with König, not to mention you didn’t want to chance him getting some sort of backlash if the fraternization rules applied to you. You’d have to do some research on that later if you two were going to meet up again at some point. Logically, seeing as you were contracted as a nurse and not as a solider, you hoped that you were outside of those rules but you weren’t certain.  

“It was fine. Nothing too crazy,” you lied seamlessly. 

She seemed to deflate at that. 

“Really? When I saw the colonel was back I had hoped…”

“Well, you hoped wrong,” you replied blandly, “I saw him but nothing happened. It’s fine, really. Probably for the best to maintain that professional boundary.” 

A body collapsing onto the bench beside you made you jump and nearly spill your food until you caught it at the last second, your heart racing from the shock until you saw it was one of Mark’s buddies at your side. 

“Hey, Ian,” Mark greeted, “What’s up?”

He was obviously as confused about his friend’s appearance as you were, but your confusion didn’t last long when he suddenly turned to face you. 

“So, I heard from a little birdie that you were single right now. Is that true?” Ian pressed, lips quirking up into a grin.

You shot a deadly look at Mark, earning a silent apology as his face heated, before you addressed the private next to you.

“I am but-”

“Great! You should come out with me Friday night! I have a weekend pass and I need a pretty lady to take with me to the city!” 

Well, shit. You knew nothing about Ian. You hoped he was a decent guy and wouldn’t be upset over you rejecting him since he was Mark’s friend but men were tricky. How were you supposed to turn him down without hurting or angering him? As your lips parted to answer, a massive hand suddenly slid around your throat and silenced you. Eyes wide in fear, you let out a shocked whimper and froze in place, only to catch the familiar scent of a warm cologne as a hard body pressed against your back. 

“There you are, liebling, I’ve been searching all over for you.”

König. Oh. Fuck. Tilting your head back at his insistence, you let your eyes meet his icy blues, obviously crinkled in joy. When his fingers tightened around your throat, you couldn’t help the way your face flushed in delight, your entire body warming with insatiable need as he descended and planted a loud smacking kiss on your forehead.

“Come now, I’ve brought lunch for us.” 

The entire table was silent during the exchange and you could practically feel Lisa vibrating in her seat, but you didn’t dare look away from him to address her. Nodding once, you rose to your feet where he finally released your throat. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you instinctively scooted closer, enjoying the body heat and comfort he put off.

“I’ll uh- I’ll see you guys later,” you threw back as he led you out of the canteen. 

The walk was quiet as he dragged you through the halls until he finally stopped at his office. With a little murmur, König opened the door and ushered you in first. The moment the door slammed shut, you were unceremoniously shoved against it, a little oomph escaping your lips at the impact. A weak moan left your lips as you felt his breath against your ear.

“Ungezogenes kleines Kätzchen,” he purred huskily “From now on, you will let it be known that you’re with me, got it?” (Naughty little kitten)

You hesitated before nodding and replied, “Y-Yes sir. I wasn't sure- I didn’t know what-” 

“Shh, shh, I know, schatz. It is not your fault. I didn’t make my intentions quite clear. You belong to me now.”

A shudder ran down your spine, forcing a moan low in your throat as you practically preened under his possessive claim. Despite the threatening tone, you felt no fear. If anything, it turned you on more than ever. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now get on my desk,” he instructed. 

Your confused glance was met with a smirk and a wink as he pulled away. 

“I prefer to have my dessert first, Kätzchen. We can eat lunch after.” 

[anama-cara]

Bargaining

dark!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Bargaining Masterlist

Summary: You try to bargain your virginity for your family’s safety. Word count: 1.8k

Warnings for full fic: 18 + mdni , Dubious consent, virginity loss, unsafe p in v, mentions of STDs, pet names, dark, age gap, survivalism, I do Not condone this. Reader is in her early 20’s, Joel is in his 40’s. Reader’s inner thoughts are in italics. This is my first fic, please give feedback.

“Wait. I can give you something else. My virginity.”

He raises an eyebrow.

---

Joel Miller, the infamous raider, stands before you. He and his band of men control these parts, and they provide “protection” from clickers and other raiders in exchange for a monthly payment. Your household (its just you and your younger brother) usually give them a large basket full of vegetables. But this month something, maybe a gopher or a deer, tore up your garden, eating everything. You had nothing else to give. When Joel’s men had broken down your door you begged them, told them you’d give them double next month. They threatened to take your brother instead, put him to work. And then Joel strode through the front door, filing the doorway with his large form. He wore a red flannel, thick tan leather jacket, heavy boots and tight jeans with his knee cocked out and his hands on his hips.

“What’s taking so long in here? There trouble?” He asked his men. They nodded to you and Joel’s gaze shifted to you. An intense gaze, one that made your knees weak and your chin tremble. You swallowed and pulled yourself together.

“I’m sorry, an animal destroyed our crops. We can forage and plant again. I promise next month we will pay double.”

He shook his head sadly and your stomach dropped.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t go around making exceptions, even for someone as pretty as you.”

One of his men stepped forward and made to grab your brother’s arm. Pretty? Maybe there was another way.

“Wait. I am still a virgin. I’m unused. I have no diseases, which is good because out here if you get sick you could die,” you ramble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“I’m clean. I’ve never been touched by a man. And I wouldn’t just be giving you sex, or safe sex, or my virginity, I’d be giving you a piece of me, my dignity, my identity, my soul.”

He grins wickedly at that so you plow ahead. He likes to have power, you can read it in his face, so you use it to your advantage.

“I’d be yours, claimed, forever marked by you, by my first time. Yours to ruin. Yours to torment, yours to degrade, yours to fuck, yours to fill. You can stretch me out and when your cum is dripping down my thighs and I am reduced to a sweating, sobbing, shaking mess on the floor - striped of my dignity and humanity, then you can proudly sit back and see your power. How you’ve ruined someone, claimed them, destroyed them, owned them.”

Damn you’re really trying to sell this. He has to take bait, you can’t let them take your brother.

You have his undivided attention, his eyes never left yours throughout your whole monologue. He seems surprised and a little impressed by your unexpected language. Now that you’ve said your piece, finished begging, he breaks eye contact. He shamelessly looks you up and down like he’s inspecting a horse to buy. He says nothing but gives one curt nod.

You loosen a sigh of relief. Your brother would be safe. You turned to face him, you had been standing a step in front of him, protecting him with your body. You knelt down and put a hand on his check. “Go upstairs, and don’t come down till I tell you. Okay?” You tell him softly. He nods silently and heads for the staircase in the corner of the room. You straighten up and turn to face Joel again. There’s something on his face, almost like a sad understanding as he watches your brother leave.

“Alright sweetheart, where do you wanna do this?” He asks gruffly in his thick Texan accent.

Oh god this is really happening.

“N-not upstairs.” Is all you manage to get out. Your mind seems to be going blank with the anxiety and shock of what’s about to happen. When you don’t move or say anything else he just nods and grabs your hand, pulling you from the main room where all his men remain, rifling through your things. He pulls you through a door and into the kitchen. He closes the door and pushes a chair underneath the doorknob, jamming it.

“Don’t want anyone interrupting us.” He smirks at your widened eyes. “You know sweetheart, you sure do have a filthy mouth. Saying all those things.” He’s shaking his head. He finally lets go of your hand to take a step back and look you over again greedily. Nothing soft remains in his eyes now. No, the only thing you see is a predator. His hungry eyes devour you. All the warning bells are going off in your head, every instinct telling you to kick him in the crotch and run. But you know you can’t, because although you know you could probably outrun this big guy, there are too many of them, and your brother is upstairs. So, you take a deep breath, loosen your fists and accept you fate. He notices the little movement. He notices everything.

“Ready sweetheart?”

You give a small nod, still unable to speak. You’re afraid of how small your voice will sound. You will not appear weak in front of him. You hold your chin higher and meet his stare.

The corner of his lips pull up in a wicked grin. “Good.”

And then he moves, and he’s so fast you don’t even know what’s happening until you’re pushed up against the kitchen island. With a broad hand he pushes you down and pins you between your shoulder blades. He’s got you bent over face down on the counter. Your breasts are pressed against the cold granite and your nipples harden against it. He presses into you from behind and you can feel his considerable bulge. With one boot he hooks your foot and slides it out, spreading your legs further for him. You hear the metal clanging as he undoes his belt and lowers his zipper. You don’t turn to look. There’s no need, you know he'll be big. With his cock freed he closes the gap between you, leaning further into you.

Shit. This will be painful.

He's even larger than you thought. You feel his hard cock behind you, pressing against your ass and the small of your back. His head tilts and you feel his hot breath on the curve of your neck. His lips glide over your shoulder. “So soft.” He inhales deeply, smelling your hair. “Mmmm.” With one hand he reaches up and grabs at your breast roughly. He can feel your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of the dress. He lets out a low growl and gropes you harder. You can feel his breathing getting faster. He reaches back down to pull your dress up above your ass. It bunches around you hips.

“Hold this sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear. You obey, grabbing the bunched up fabric with one hand and bracing yourself on the counter with the other. He pulls back, and pulls your underwear down to your ankles. One hand moves to your hip, keeping you in place. With his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock he notches at your entrances and pushes in half way. White hot pain flashes through you. He’s so big and your body was not prepared for him. He pulls out almost all the way and pushes in again, all the way, hips snapping. Searing pain, he is splitting your insides apart. You hiss in pain.

“Sorry sweetheart, didn’t say this was gonna be nice for you. Remember this is your payment. Take it.”

He chuckles darkly and slams into you again. You shake your head.

No, no no no, it’s too much.

You can’t breathe. You feel a trickle of blood run down the inside of your thigh. Your hips dig into the countertop and you know there with be a line of bruising left on your skin. You’ll have bruising on the side of your hips too, his fingers are griping you so tightly.

“That’s a good little virgin. So fucking tight. Relax sweetheart. Don’t fight it.” He grunts. “I know your pussy will want it anyways.”

He sets up a rapid pace, slamming into you roughly with each thrust. It’s dry and painful and you hate it. Hate him. But after a few minutes when your body has adjusted you begin to loosen a bit. You still hate Joel, hate this man who runs these lands like he owns them. But you can’t deny that your body has stopped protesting. So you try to drown out the obscene sounds of skin slapping and his grunting behind you. You let your mind travel far away and forget that it is Joel behind you.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but you feel a change behind you, the hot breaths on your shoulder blades are uneven and the pace is different, slower and deeper. He lets out a pained moan then pulls out of you, there’s a seconds pause then you feel hot liquid spill over you. It hits the small of your back in ropes and drips onto your ass. He sighs deeply from behind you. You finally turn to look at him. He’s staring your body, satisfaction on his face as he watches his cum drip down you. You whip your head back around before he can catch your eye.

There’s silence as he watches you and catches his breath. Finally, he reaches down and pulls your underwear back up. He takes the dress out of your grip and tugs it down. He runs his hands over your waist and ass, smoothing the fabric and feeling you up. One rests at the small of your back and presses the dress into the wetness there, letting to fabric soak it up and stick to you. He grins.

“Alright sweetheart.”

 He gives your ass a smack then lets go of you. You push up and raise yourself off from the counter, resting on your elbows. He says nothing else as he moves to the door, unwedges the chair and opens the door. He looks back at you. You’re still leaning against the counter for support. He eyes your shaking legs, your ruffed up hair, your wrinkled wet dress. “See you next month.”

You’re in shock. That’s it? You don’t move as he leaves and whistles for his men to follow. You don’t move till you hear the front door slam behind them. Then you sink to the kitchen floor.

You don’t understand, Joel is infamous for being violent and cruel. You know that could have been much worse, that he could have beat you, that he could have passed you around to his men afterwards. But he just left. Suddenly you feel grateful. Then you silently curse yourself for it, reminding yourself that even though it could have been worse it was horrible that it ever happened in the first place. That someone threatened your family, that they took something from you. That they acted like they owned the place. You grit your teeth. No, the only thing you’re grateful for is the fact that it’s over. You stand on your shaky legs and reach for a kitchen towel. You call out for your brother, letting him know that they’re gone and he’s safe. You clean yourself up and you hear his little feet running down the stairs. He bursts into the room and flies at you in a hug. “Your big sis took care of it. I’ll always protect you remember. It’s okay. It’s over.” You pat his back and comfort him.

See you next month.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Fight: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3k

Summary: After a weird encounter with your parents and friends, you try to get to the bottom of it even if you don't like the answer.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

You join Emily and Mick Rawson who is on the Red Cell team. They're standing over the recent victim while SFPD is closing off the park from everyone else.

"Hey, I came as fast as I could," you say. "Do you have any gloves?"

Emily hands you a pair and you slip them on over your own hands. You kneel next to the body and touch the wounds on his face. His spiritual energy flies out of his body and swirls around you, putting out a video that plays out in front of you of his last moments. There is an empty pool with two people inside, one of them being the victim. Both of them run at each other before fighting. There are tons of blood stains all around the pool, telling you that many people have fought there. A man sits on the edge of the pool looking down at the two men fighting but the only thing you're getting from him is that he's white. That narrows it down... Not. You stand up and remove the gloves.

"So, the only thing I'm getting is that he and another man were inside this big empty pool and they were fighting each other. The unsub was sitting on the edge watching them but the only thing I saw was that he's white." Mick stares at you like you have two heads and you stick your hand out which he shakes. "Hi, I'm Y/N, the on-call psychic."

"Not the weirdest thing I've come across," he shrugs.

"British, huh? I know a girl who has a thing for accents," you grin and look at Emily who blushes.

Mick smirks but he doesn't say anything about it.

"So, the Tenderloin is full of junkies who would be easy to control, but the first victim had no drugs in his system and this geezer looks pretty healthy except for the whole dead thing. There's skin under his nails. Didn't the first victim have scratch marks on his chest?"

"The victims are fighting each other," you say, "not the unsub."

"Exactly," Mick agrees.

"I take it you're about to wow us with a theory?"

"The first victim is dumped before the fathers and daughters are taken. Why?"

Because he wants to send a message to the wife that he means business, to make sure she doesn't call the police."

"It also sends a message to the prisoners he already has. If you lose a fight, you die." Mick leans down and points to the welts that are on the victim's back. "What do those welts look like to you?"

"Wounds from rubber bullets?"

"This is the same as how they used to control rioters or prison inmates. I think the unsub's been locked up. It's where he's learned to control his own prisoners."

"Well, if he's learned how to dominate them, why are they fighting each other?" Emily asks.

"It has to be part of his plan to watch them beat the hell out of each other. The loser is executed."

You take out your phone and call Hotch.

"Hey, we might have the profile on this guy." You tell him everything Mick told you. "How do you want us to do this?"

"If what Rawson said is true, the profile will need to be given to San Quinten Prison."

"Hotch, I can't go there," you whisper.

"I'm not asking you to. I'll have Rossi and Sam go there. Get back to the station so we can give it to SFPD."

"Thank you."

Rossi and Sam go to the prison, Derek stays with Jane's mother, and the rest of the team is at the SF police station to deliver the profile.

"We have a serial killer on our hands. We think he might have done time in San Quinten Prison. It's very likely that this unsub has a prison record. He's white, and judging by the age of the people he abducts, most likely in his thirties. Considering the terrain in which he's dumping the bodies, we think that he's imposing or at least very physically fit," Hotch begins.

"He also has access to a space that's large enough to house and control a number of prisoners, all without disturbing the neighbors. Look for places that have big pools, most likely abandoned," you say without telling them about your gift.

"This guy keeps to the same hunting ground and same dumpsite. He's a control freak and really organized. Also, in prison, he would have been obsessed with the guards and their methods of controlling the prisoners, especially in the yard."

"This dude kills folks the same few days every year. There's no way he's that obsessed and he's not talking about it," an officer scoffs.

"We think the man has a daughter of his own, most likely a brunette like Jane. The dates he chooses probably correspond to an event involving his own daughter. Our guess is that he lost his daughter in some way and it's symbolic of him not fighting for her in the first place."

"A lot of times, killers choose victims that are surrogates for someone, like a wife or a mother. In this case, we think his own guilt is making him choose surrogates that represent himself."

With the profile in mind, it's time to do some scouting on the streets. You know his energy. You'll be able to spot him out in a crowd if he's around. Emily and Mick joined you on the mission with Mick up above in the clouds. He's a very good sniper and can see more than you and Emily might. The place you hit is Chinatown while everyone else scouts other cities the unsub might hit.

"So, what are you wearing?"

You smirk when you hear Mick's voice in your ear. You look at Emily to see her smile, and you know she heard him, too.

"A gun." She chuckles. "Hey, Mick, explain something to me. How come we're out on the street and you're sitting on your butt on some roof?"

"Do you really want me to expound on my own prowess? It's undignified. Stay on your headset. All his victims are coming from this four-block radius."

Emily looks at you and sees the look on your face.

"Don't start."

"I didn't say anything." You remember Friday's mishap and look at Emily with a slight frown. "So, how's that dating profile of yours coming along?"

She tenses next to you. "Good."

"Come on, Emily, you know I know you two were lying. Why did you lie? I'm not mad, just confused as to why you felt the need to. Do you not like my parents?"

"It's not that," she sighs. She hopes she can leave it at that but then she sees you staring at her, waiting for an answer. "I don't know. I felt something when he looked at me."

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N, please drop it."

"No, Emily, what do you mean? Did you feel unsafe?"

"No, nothing like that. There was something about him that made me uncomfortable."

"Was it something he said?"

"No. I'm sorry. It was the way he looked at me."

"Oh," you say softly.

"I'm probably reading too much into it." You nod and continue to walk in silence. "Are we okay? I don't like fighting with you."

Whatever happened on Friday wasn't Emily's fault. Your dad must be under a lot of stress and his look might have come across as creepy when it had nothing to do with Emily. You look at her and give her a reassuring smile.

"We're not fighting. We're okay. I just wanted to know, is all. In the future, you don't have to lie."

"Okay," she chuckles.

"If you two are done, I think I've got something," Mick says from above. "I don't know if it's anything but check out the guy in the southeast corner. See the guy clocking the junkie?"

"Care to expand on that? All I see are guys clocking junkies."

"Gray shirt."

You two look where Mick is directing you and see a man following closely behind another man who looks like he's cracked out. Emily is about to follow them when you stop her.

"That's not him."

"What? How do you know?" Mick asks.

"Look, I'm a psychic. I see energies and I've already seen the unsub's energy through the victims. His energy doesn't match the unsub's. Everyone has their own unique aura and that guy isn't ours."

"I trust her with my life," Emily backs you up. "If she says it's not him, it's not him."

"Put a little trust in me, Mick."

"Alright, I do," he says after a pause.

"He was never here. Tonight was a bust."

The next morning after a restless night, your team meets the Red Cell in their domain. It looks like a storage garage that one would go to if they wanted to get their car fixed. Only there are no cars but computers and other tech equipment everywhere.

"Did your analyst get us the data?" Sam asks JJ.

"Yeah, I can lay it out for you."

"Good. Let's cross-reference it against our potential suspect pool."

One of the agents, Johnathan Simms, takes out his phone once he hears it ringing.

"Hello? ... Yeah, we can be there." He hangs up and looks at Rossi. "You up for a ride to San Quentin?"

"Lead the way."

"Okay, what do we have?" Mick asks once the two men are gone.

"The profile says he's spent time in prison and probably lost a teenage daughter in a way that corresponds to the dates he abducts and kills his victims. We have the dates in question divided into four specific subsets." Spencer points to the different groups as he explains. "This group is teenage girls ages thirteen to sixteen who were removed from their fathers' care. This group are deaths of teenagers the same age. The remainder are men arrested for violent crimes and anyone serving a prison sentence during the same window."

"The stressor's in here somewhere. Let's find something that looks promising so we can start running background checks. I want to get inside the girl's head. She's the key. Any insight could help break this thing. We need to understand why he took this girl at this time," Sam says.

One of the prisoners who asked Rossi and John to come overheard a story about this big white man who was in this prison at one time. Supposedly he's all kinds of crazy. When he found out his daughter died, he went all commando--boxing, working out, and challenging everyone in the yard saying that he'd fight them to the death. Sounds like it could be the unsub. It got so bad that he started to beef with the officers when they finally put him in solitary confinement to serve out the rest of his term.

Derek, while with Jane, finds something about Jane that sticks out to him. There is a collage in her room that doesn't have her parents in it like she's trying to hide them or keep them from her life. He finds her diary which is filled with typical teenage stuff like rants about her parents being unfair and talking about some boy named David. He thinks it's odd that she'd have a diary when she comes across as a very private person. The diary only goes back nine months, and Sarah reveals that the family counselor suggested she start one. His office? In the Tenderloin District.

"Okay. Got it. Good work, Morgan," Hotch says when he called. He hangs up and looks at the team. "The Mcbride family went to a therapy center in the Tenderloin. The place also did evaluations for social services."

"We profiled that the unsub may have had his daughter taken away from him," Emily says.

"If he was processed in the same place, then he would know how to target the fathers and daughters. Can I talk to your analyst?" Sam asks.

"Sure."

Hotch calls Penelope and places her on speakerphone for all to hear.

"Penelope Garcia."

"Sam Cooper here."

"Sam Cooper?" she gasps. "As I live and breathe, and here I thought you were a story someone invented. What you got?"

"Here's what I need from you. Has anyone been processed by social services who ended up losing a daughter? I don't care how big the list is. I can cross-reference it against my others."

"Roger that. Gonna hack like the wind. Prepare to be wowed, sir." She is silent for five minutes. "Alright, my tribe, I have a list of parents evaluated by social services who ended up losing custody, but as Cooper predicted, it is a lengthy tale of woe."

"We'll use it to cross against the teenage girls who died on some of the dates in question. I'm gonna start reading names. You tell me if they're on your list. Maria Salter, Carla Denny, Joyce Collard, Dawn Sparrow--"

"We have a name," Sam says while checking a text. "John Vincent Bell."

"One of the first who died was named Mandy Bell."

"Garcia, run the name John Vincent Bell against the family therapy list."

"Shazam. Bell and his wife divorced then the wife died. Bell was declared incompetent to have custody of the daughter due to a host of mental health issues."

"They got that right," Sam scoffs.

"Oh, Lord, when social service agents showed up to remove the girl, Bell beat one of them to death and was given seven years for manslaughter. During this time, his daughter was in a car accident. It looks like she survived three days on life support but eventually died of brain injuries."

"Bell is making these men fight to the death just like he did. He's trying to prove he did what any father would do."

"Do we have an address?" Sam asks.

"The only listing I have is a gym on Hall Street in the Tenderloin. It belongs to Bell's family. It hasn't been operational for years."

"Gyms have pools," you say, remembering what you saw.

"We got him."

You take two cars to the place and get out once you arrive. You sneak inside the darkened gym quietly. You come across the main room where there is a big pool with tons of blood stains in and around it. There is a body inside the pool... dead. Half the team searches the gym while you stay in the main room.

"See? Told you I saw a pool," you mutter to Mick.

"I will never doubt you again," he chuckles. Someone moans in pain from the left side of the room, and you see Ben McBride chained to the pole with cuts and bruises all over his face. "I need paramedics immediately to 631 Hall Street."

Pictures of Jane and Bell are scattered around the floor on Polaroids and she looks terrified.

"Sir, where's your daughter?" Sam asks.

"He took her."

"How long ago?"

"A few minutes ago. Find her," he begs. "Please find her."

"The place is clear," JJ says when she comes back.

"He's on the street. He's got the girl."

"I'll stay with the father."

Hotch takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Garcia, I need vehicle information For Bell. Tell police we need an APB."

"I can hit the rooftops," Mick offers.

"Good. Go," Sam says and Mick runs off. "I need a helicopter."

"Garcia, tell San Francisco PD we need a chopper." Hotch looks at you. "Can you track Jane?"

"Yes."

"Good. Do it."

This is the way you prove yourself. You need to feel like your old self again. You're done letting others control your life. Both Jane and Bell's energy is everywhere inside the gym but her panic causes her energy to wisp through the gym and out the back door. You immediately follow the wisp until you reach the street. The wisp flies down the street. You don't think twice about running after it. Hotch, Rossi, and another Red Cell agent take the car while Derek and Emily run after you. You don't stop running until you reach the end of the street and watch as the wisp flies down the sidewalk toward a public parking garage. You keep running and enter the garage with nothing on your mind but Jane. You run all the way to the roof of the garage where you see Bell practically dragging Jane with him to the ledge.

"John Bell, FBI!" Derek yells with his gun out. "Put the weapon down!"

"Don't shoot me!" Jane pleads.

"Drop the gun!"

"It's over! Look around you! You know what it feels like to lose your daughter. Do you really want to hurt somebody else's?"

Bell shoves Jane away and jumps onto the ledge. He's going to jump.

"Get off the wall!" Derek yells.

Bell smirks and jumps off the wall without a second glance. You and Emily rush over to the wall and look down only to see Bell with a gun pointed right at you. He jumped onto a ledge and waited for someone to come so he could take out one of you. Your eyes widen but you don't have to think about your life ending. A shot rings out but it doesn't come from Bell. Mick zeroes in on him through the scope of his sniper rifle. You two look at him and he waves to show you that he's got you.

This calls for a win. Strauss can be pissed all she wants but if it wasn't for Sam and his team, you'd have never thought fathers and their daughters were going missing. For your last night in San Francisco, Sam opened his shop to your entire team for a small party to celebrate.

"Thank you for what you did," Emily says to Mick.

"Same here but I'm sure she'll do enough thanking for the both of us," you wink at Emily whose cheeks redden.

"You guys wanna watch out for this one. She's gonna have a hard time getting over me," Mick smirks.

"Like kicking a virus," she grins.

"You know, I could have just missed."

"With your ego? Not a chance," she chuckles.

Spencer walks over to you with a cracker that has a dip on top of it. He holds his hand underneath it so nothing falls on the ground.

"Open." You open your mouth and he puts the cracker inside. You chew it happily and nod to him to let him know you think it's delicious. "Good, huh?"

"Yeah," you smile and swallow.

"I see you're doing better," Rossi smiles and nudges you.

"Doing better, Rossi, and feeling better. I think... I think I'm going to be okay."

In fact, when you got home, you didn't have a single nightmare.

x

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[emanation-aura]

Nahida currently has (one) secret agent. Wanderer, the unknown entity, who has the insanely cool ability of being able to fly and speed around, making him an intimidating aerial combatant. Apart from his combat capabilities, Wanderer is also a totally unknown entity thanks to his trauma-induced spree into erasing himself from the Irminsul and thus can go anywhere on the pretense of being someone else.

But. There are two types of secret missions Nahida wants done. One is the "please fight the Abyss Order and make their Heralds give up information" type of "die die DIE" mission. These are the type of missions Wanderer excels at.

The other is the "wine-dine-steal-something-of-mine" types. As the Wanderer, he should theoretically be excellent at this, but factoring in temperament, it is nearly impossible to make Wanderer play nice enough to seduce/socialise/steal anything.

So... who else could Nahida hire to cover the diplomatic infiltration missions? Someone who is not actively hostile to humanity (which is a very low bar, admittedly), who can travel freely in their spare time because they don't have anything better to do, who has high enough Clearance™️ to access all the diplomatic and social places Archons would want to know about...

The first answer is the Traveler. The second answer is Alhaitham.

"Ok, look, this is utter insanity," the Wanderer says, pointing at the (no longer?) Acting Grand Sage like he's an attraction at the zoo. "I'm supposed to be sharing a job with this guy?"

"This guy has a name," Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. "It's Alhaitham, although call him by his preferred codename on missions."

"Vulture," Alhaitham drawls unenthusiastically. Lesser Lord Kusanali grins; he may sound unenthusiastic, but his Dendro Vision thrums in her presence and aligns with her aspects: knowledge, sagacity, puzzles, analysis, praxis. (Ok, maybe it also has to do with the pay rise she's giving him.) "Who is this...?"

"Just call me the Wanderer," the Wanderer says, the same time the Lesser Lord cheerfully chirps "Hat Guy."

"Wanderer is no good," Alhaitham points out quite reasonably, "it's a job, not a title. Same with Hat Guy. How am I supposed to tell you apart from everyone else who wears hats? Pick something else."

"Justify the existence of the Traveler," the Wanderer sneers.

Lesser Lord Kusanali silently points to a corner of the office with two chairs labelled "time-out corner". Both men fall silent.

"Both of you begin tomorrow," she speaks quickly, confident both can keep up. "I will keep a running list of things I need done, hm... here." She points at the holographic display on the wall, which currently lists "purchase the mythical 'Sea Ganoderma' from Inazuma" and "arrange meetings with other Archons to discuss jurisdictional issues". (Alhaitham thinks she is trying to sound too much like an administrative, executive leader— when she is a god, who has people to do this for her— ah, fuck, this person being him, of course.)

"Hat Guy, all combat missions are yours, and if we need to use... ahem, your special identity, then I will mark it down. Alhaitham, all diplomatic missions are yours, except when marked otherwise." Lesser Lord Kusanali puts her hands to her hips and smiles. "Any questions?"

"Hat Guy..." Alhaitham says, and oh shit, she is the Lord of Wisdom and can Hear His Brain Whirring, "the hat is distinguishable, at least. That's an Inazuma kasa hat worn by vagrants, and you have a strange accent. お前は本当に態度が悪いな, Ублюдок."*

She materialises a bar of soap in Wanderer's mouth before he can respond, but his rage is palpable, and it is clear he understood what Alhaitham said. Frankly, she is too interested to intervene, wanting to see what Alhaitham deduces about Wanderer's identity.

"Likely Inazuman by origin, given his hat and accent inflection, while also understanding Snezhnayan. Very rare combination, isn't it?" Alhaitham doesn't smile, exactly, at the squirming Wanderer, but he is gloating in his own way. "The Fatui Harbingers are missing an Inazuman for their roster, actually, and we know they like recruiting a couple from each region (under his breath, confirmed placements are Fair Lady to Mondstadt, Regrator to Liyue, Doctor to Sumeru, the Marionette to Fontaine, the Captain to Natlan, with the rest unknown or native to Snezhnaya). And it is said that they've been missing a Sixth for a couple centuries, have they not?"

"So, in conclusion, this... Hat Guy is the former Sixth Harbinger that either was fired, escaped, or rebelled. You've defected to the side of the Archons by joining Lesser Lord Kusanali."

It is indeed Haravatat that sniffs him out, Nahida thinks with amazement. She removes the bar of soap from Wanderer's mouth, which causes him to unleash a litany of curses in all four languages he knows (Common, Sumerian, Inazuman, Snezhnayan, with some Seirai Dialect thrown in for fun). Perhaps out of respect for her, though, he does not attempt to immediately throttle Alhaitham. Nahida takes it as a win.

"Well, this has been a productive first meeting for you two! I look forward to working with you guys in the future."

Lesser Lord Kusanali smiles benevolently. And the rest, while not history, will eventually sort itself out.

*Japanese: roughly "You have an attitude problem", and Russian: "you little bitch". I do not speak these languages, so native speakers feel free to interject.

[Fatui Harbinger nation-of-origin ideas are not to be taken as canon]

[astoldbyaja]

The Serpent and the Sunflower - Part 3 (Castlevania Nocturne)

If ya'll want to cry the song Shiva sings is Look Down, Lord from the movie Rosewood (I would not listen to this song if you are familiar with the movie and easily gets teary eyed) it is very gut wrenching movie and song, BUT it fits this part of the chapter.

~ 1786 Avoyelles Parish, Louisiana ~

The sun beat down on the Clarendon Plantation House. While the slaves worked the fields, curtains as black as the night covered the big house blocking out all light while vampire slave owner William Mayfield and his guests danced and drank blood of their slaves. William was a brutal sadistic vampire, much like that of his human life.

He felt like a god among men as he carried immortality on his body well.

All the vampires laughed and talked and reminisced of older days.

The slaves were picking the cotton, the sweat falling off their bodies, and their bodies weak from the work. But they all looked at each other wondering where their hard souled task masters were. But they wouldn’t dare stop working lest they felt the sting of their master’s whip or worse, being brutalized by his demonic vampire strength.

Three black figures began to walk from the forest onto the plantation grounds. The slaves all began to look up, wiping the sweat from their brows and they blinked noticing the beautifully dressed beings. In the middle was a tall buck of a man, with hair locked and swaying down his back. His muscles rippled in the light, but he walked with his hands behind his back. A vest like fabric moved down his body and around his hips were satin pants. On his left was a beautiful dark-skinned woman who stood at the man’s shoulders. No hair touched her scalp, yet markings painted her scalp. Golden rings hugged her neck, and her body was wrapped with lavender robes. Her full figure could be seen beneath the fabric. On the man’s right was another woman of the same dark complexion. She has longer thick curly hair braided on the top and flowing down her back.

Around her breasts was a tight gold and green wrap and the same material covered her groin. The three, black eyed beings walked with pride and power, something the current slaves never thought possible of people who looked like them. The figured stepped on the cotton fields, their eyes only on the big house in front of them.

The man stopped in the field and the two women followed suit. The bald woman looked at the field of slaves.

“Leave or die. Make your choice.” she said, her accent thick and threatening.

“No one will stop you.” The younger curly haired woman said. The man’s eyes just remained on the big house.

“Your god is with you… now let nothing stop you.” he said darkly, voice devoid of feeling. The slaves felt the tension in their bones as they knew they were either standing in the presence of demons or standing before angels themselves. They dropped their bags of cotton, picked up their small children, grabbed the hands of their wives and husbands and fled toward the forest running to freedom.

Set began to walk across the field again, his wives, following him.

“Imari… how long as it been since we have been on earth?” he asked his first wife. The bald woman cut her eyes to her husband.

“Too long.” she said. Set nodded.

“The other orisha say we celebrate to violently to be with our kin… do you agree my young wife?” he asked motioning his head to the other woman who sighed.

“I think they would rather us stay behind and wallow in self-pity at having such powers.” she said. Set nodded.

“I agree Shiva. But today, my father wants all the vampires to walk in the sun in this so-called Americas… if we are going to do that, we will need to have our own fun first. Let’s start here.” he said as the three neared the doors of the big house. Imari’s walk slowed as she stayed behind. Set and Shiva joined hands looking at each other with gentle yet loving smiles as they opened the doors and entered the dark house. They left the doors open so Imari could hear the music.

The sound of violins and cellos playing filled their senses as the two orisha’s footsteps began to echo into the house. House slaves who saw them, paused in the movements upon seeing the blackened eyes of the intruders. Without another word, they’d dip their heads, thanked them, and hurried from the house. As they came into the large entertainment room, a sea of white faces was all they could see.

They immediately caught the attention of every face in that room. They hissed and snarled while William stepped forward.

“Who the fuck are you and what the hell are you doing in my house, boy!” he snarled. Set looked at Willian and chuckled.

“Do you not see how primitive these creatures are Shiva?” he asked. Shiva’s stone face cracked in a sadistic smirk.

“All I see are colonizers who only know death.” She said. William looked at their eyes, and knew they were not human. His shoulders dropped and he seemed somewhat relaxed.

“So, who are you voodoo users, witches?” he asked mockingly making the many vampires laugh some. Set tilted his head back some.

“I have many names, but who we are do not matter. We simply came to join in the fun before the execution.” he said taking a step forward of which everyone tensed, as they all began to hear something in their minds, something beautiful, a memory of a song that made them the happiest. William’s eyes twitched and he snarled unable to figure out why he was suddenly seeing things in his mind and let alone thinking of such an old song.

“What the fuck are you talking about, boy?” he snapped. Set smiled already knowing his abilities had set in. He looked at his darling wife.

“Shiva…” he purred. Shiva raised her palms to the sky slowly and opened her mouth. She began to sing, her voice like that of a heavy choir.

Look down, Lord, look down This time I'm comin' home It's late now sweet Jesus, take me now This time I'm coming home Look down, Lord, look down Been hard times and I can't wait Oh, look down, sweet Jesus, hold me now This time I'm coming home

As she sang, the vampire’s bodies all began to grow sluggish, their arms swaying from left to right. Their jaws slack and hanging open and their eyes all began to cloud over white. Set smirked. Inside all their minds, they were all trapped in the happiest memory imaginable from their human years. There's so much sorrow 'round this time Lord, look down, please, look down Oh, I been wanderin far and travelin' long I'm weary now, please, look down

As Shiva sang, her voice locked itself in their minds. Set knew they were all his. Even the human slaves were trapped in their melodic trance. He merely turned and began to walk back out of the room with his wife following beside him, her mouth still open and her head held high. All the while, everyone in the room began to follow them into the light.

Free me, Lord, take me I need to come and walk with Thee Sweet Jesus, Lord, won't you hold me now? This time I'm coming home Look down, look down Look down, look down This time I'm coming home

The vampire’s eyes remained in a white fog as they followed the two beings outside. As their skin met the sun, their bodies boiled and their skin bubbled as they screamed. Their faces caught fire. William roared the loudest in pain as their clothes caught fire and they turned to ash in the hot sun. Imari saw her husband and sister wife and smiled as fire was dancing around their bodies. The humans caught fire from the flames of their oppressors and screamed in pain. Imari began to shake her hips hard and firm. The ground beneath her feet shook and the earth began to roar with life.

Set and Shiva smiled at her as the earth opened up and swallowed the cotton fields. The big house crumbled and cracked and what was filled with laughter from the vampires was now rubble. As her hips slowed the tremors faded and Set spread his arms out around his beautiful wives, wrapping them around their necks lovingly.

“Oh, my girls!” he said with pride, kissing them each passionately. Shiva and Imari embraced their husband craving his love and affection. Their feet floated some in the air as to not be impacted by the tremors Imari’s hips created.

“This was fun… I’ve never killed vampires before.” Shiva said. Set nodded, a glare on his face now.

“And they are not the last… the vampire that forced themselves on my sister is still out there.” he said. Imari and Shiva glared.

“Savages!” they hissed angrily. Set looked up at the sunny sky.

“We will bring all the American vampires to the sun. Will you carry out these executions with me my dear wives?” he asked, adrenaline boiling in his body as he looked at the two orisha women. Imari and Shiva responded by placing their foreheads together and along with their husband.

“Let us have our own orisha celebration.” Imari hissed as the three bodies began to combine into a blinding light and swirl into the sky disappearing.

Ansara’s POV

He’s waiting for me. Olrox. I can feel him. I needed to see him after the talk with my father, I felt I needed to be on earth, somewhere foreign for me.

“My gem, you are getting in that age where it will be time to find a mate, have a few children.”

“Is it really my time for that?” I asked.

“Of course. There are many orisha of different clans wanting to be your mate. All your brothers have wives and are married. Is something holding you back?”

“No father. Nothing at all…”

I swam through the waters chasing fish and swimming with the different creatures of the deep. I inhaled the water through my gills and started to make my way toward the surface. I hadn’t seen Olrox in a year’s time. I hope that wasn’t too long for him. At least it wasn’t two hundred years. I could see the moon in the sky and in seconds, I threw my head back, a stream of water rippling into the water. I raised my hands, and a wave of water carried me to the shore. My webbed hands parted, and long tail began to separate, the scales parting.

My blue eyes widened as I looked toward the sands of the beach to see a vampire dressed in beautiful purple garments. Green eyes glowing and happy. Olrox. The water carried me to him and threw me into his arms. He gasped and caught me and together we rolled into the sand and this time, he pinned me onto my back, his hair falling over his face, mixing into my curls.

“Ansara.” he purred, and I smiled raising my hand to caress his cold skin.

“Olrox.” I said gently.

“I didn’t miss you this time. I could feel you coming.” he said, his fangs showing. I smiled with light worry in my sapphire eyes.

“Were you waiting long?” I asked. He shook his head.

“Six months was but a blink to me.” He smiled and captured my lips in a heated kiss. I replied immediately to it. His tongue slid over my lips begging for entrance and I opened so our tongues could meet. Once again, I feel the sting of his tongue as he bites into it. A stream of blood pours down our lips as we were together again. I feel his hand slowly trail down my thigh. I felt that jolt of excitement immediately overtakes my body, it was unlike any feeling I had ever felt before. How did this undead creature make my heart flutter- make me feel more alive than any other being that existed on this planet? I pulled back so I could look his face over. I wanted to know more of this creature- this vampire.

“Will you show me the world of vampires, Olrox?” I asked. His serpent-like eyes seemed to grow with warmth as he nodded, his earrings making soft jingling noises.

“If you promise to be mine.” he purred seductively. His voice dripped with need, lust, and desire but his eyes still showed longing and desperation for me to remain with him. My heart fluttered at his words, nonetheless.

“I am yours.” I said lovingly and he smiled taking my hand and bringing it up to his lips to plant a gentle kiss on my palm.

“And I am yours, my love.” he said before leaning down and kissing me lovingly again.

Taglist

@angel-hawthorne

@the-tired-potato-hani

@vampiebite

@acrystalrosebroken

@laina48

@thewitchauntlibrary

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@seokjinfairys

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@uxoii

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@tiredmagicalwarrior

[monsteraddict1]

Chapter 5

This is a long ass chapter. Srry in advance

I was fucking squished in the car. I could feel both men squeezing me as they breathed. I was just praying wherever we were going was not too far from here.

As we left the base two other cars followed behind us.

It was a short drive into the colorful village. Honestly it was a beautiful place but I heard stories from Jackie on why her uncle left. I loved listening about her family and all the drama in it.

"White truck, four armed in the back." Soap's gruff Scottish voice rang through my left ear. I felt him shift for his gun. Alejandro turned around.

"Hey- tranquilo. Easy. That's normal here. Guns on the street is jurisdiction of the police."

"Where are the police?" Ghost's english accent vibrated through my right ear.

"Well. Las Almas has a very serious problem. There are few here who uphold the law. And many of those who resist corruption... Disappear." Alejandro responded.

"What about the military?" Soap questioned. His voice like a growl.

Does this whole team smoke?

"Well, because we are well trained, soldiers are recruited by the narcos."

  "Why not you?" Ghost's voice was gruff.

  Are we playing 21 questions??

  "We grew up here." Alejandro looked at Rudy. "They call us Los Vaqueros... cowboys. We love this place. And we will die fighting for it."

  I looked out of the right window to see a huge cathedral. As we continued to drive there were a bunch of men in masks and holding guns.

  Soap looked over at Ghost, who was already staring at Soap.

  "Kids, guns and Ballons... that's a new one." Soap spoke.

  "Narcos use generosity to win over the people."

  "Even the children?"

  "Especially the children." Rudy spoke in english.

  The car slowed down as the three of us in the back seat saw white sheets covering two bodies. I cringed at the sight.

  "What's on those sheets?"

  Alejandro rolled down the window. "Narcomantas..."

  "Cartel cloths." Rudy clarified.

  "Messages from El sin nombre. Warnings, marking territory." He paused for a beat. "Our streets are laced with death."

  I felt sick. Like physically sick. I will never even have the full story of how they grew up but it looked horrible.

  "Who's Sin Nombre?" Ghost asks yet another question. It took all the power in me not to correct him. I didn't want him to be more annoyed with me than he already seemed to be.

  "El sin Nombre. The nameless." Alejandro corrected. "The leader of the las Almas cartel."

  "Where can we find him?" Soap had a hard expression on his face.

  "You can't. No one knows who he is. But he is everywhere. And this is a challenge... but Los Vaqueros like challenges."

  "With your mask. You will fit in well here, Ghost." Rudy mused. I couldn’t help but smile at that.

  "Oye, tranquilo." Alejandro snickered. "Checkpoint. It's the army. Turn right. We will go around."

  "Why?" All these fucking men do is ask questions.

  "Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told you. He is everywhere... cartel is hiding Hassan in the village across the river. Let's hope he's still there."

  Why the fuck did my aunt send me here. This is my second fucking mission and I'm pared with British people and my best friend's hot uncle and his funny best friend. Did she forget I have no experience?

  "You ready, (y/n)" Alejandro turned his head.

  "I'm fucked if I'm not." He just laughed at my words.

  We continued driving out of the village.

  "So Kate sent you? Why did you join exactly?" Soap asked YET ANOTHER question. I felt like I was tweaking with every question he asked.

  "It's private." I replied. I didn't want to sound like a spoiled teenager and say, 'oh I just absolutely needed a vacation. That's why I'm here to murder people and get the missals back to America!' It doesn't really sound the best.

  "So the CIA shit runs in the family?"

  "Sure."

  "What do you mean 'sure'?"

  "Well she's not my blood aunt. But I guess we are similar in ways. She's too smart though. Which is why I'm military not CIA." I joked a bit which earned a laugh from Soap.

"Aye, there's a reason I'm behind a gun and not a computer screen." Soap smiled. His smile was contagious and I couldn't help but mimic his grin.

"You're behind one occasionally." Ghost piped in. It wasn't as rude as he normally sounded. I could tell they were good friends though.

  "I just can't believe Lasswell is your aunt." Alejandro looked back at me.

  "She doesn't like to talk about her family." I crossed my arms to save space. "Which, knowing my step mother. I understand."

  "She didn't sound too pleasant when you were on the phone with her when you were over here last." Rudy joined in.

  God she called me every day! Asking when I'd be home and to be super careful because it's extremely dangerous in Mexico. It's dangerous here in Las Almas. Not where Jackie's family is.

"She was so annoying." I grumbled.

  "So you moved in with Lasswell?" Ghost asked.

  "Yeah. When I was seventeen."

  "Was your mum just eager to get you out of the house?" Soap laughed and looked down at my squished form.

  "Oh yes. Very." I replied, not wanting to go into detail of my life story. Not when I could get shot within the next five minutes.

  We continued to drive then we slowly came to a stop near a forested area. When the car stopped we all piled out.

  "Team leaders, circle up on me..." Alejandro commanded.

  "Copy, Colonel." Rudy followed behind him.

  I stood next to Soap as I watched.

  "Weapons hot, Vaqueros."

  "Let's move." Said one of the soldiers. They walked off, gun in hand.

  The five of us stood in a circle. Gear of and guns loaded. It was clear this town was abandoned.

  "Where are they hiding Hassan?" Soap asked.

  "White two story building, back of town." Alejandro gestured to the back of town.

  My aunt wasn't lying when she said getting trained quickly. I'm actually getting thrown into all of this.

  We quickly started moving. I stayed behind Soap. He was wearing a tan bullet proof vest with SAS on the back of it.

“You seem nervous, rookie.” Ghost let out a small chuckle.

“Sorry I don’t have twenty years of experience.” I snapped slightly.

Maybe I was too nervous. Speaking to a Lieutenant like that.

“I’m not that old.”

  We stopped in front of a black painted wooden gate. A stone wall surrounded the town.

  "All victors, stand by... Tres dos uno ejecutar ejecutar!" Alejandro gave the command and Ghost pushed the gate open with force. "Movimiento claro."

  "Civilians?" Soap asked.

  "Gone. Cartel took over. It's a hideout now."

  "Good place to keep Hassan." Soap thought aloud.

  "Next Gate Soap."

  We approached the next gate when we could hear shouting in the distance. "Las ratas se dirigen hacia ti! Puedo oírlos en el camino!"

  "Movimiento! Contacto- todos los Victors se mudan!"

  "Chicos! Aquí vienen! Vamos a la mierda!" They yelled. My heart and stomach dropped. And there is nothing I could do about it.

  "Copy. Twos moving!" Rudy's voice came over the coms.

  "They're down. Push up." Alejandro's voice was gruff.

  "Prepárate!" The cartel shouted. And I knew it was for their men but I couldn't help but take the advice as well. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. Key word... tried.

  We continued pushing through the town then once we turned the corner bullets flew past my head. I stood a little behind Soap and got a few shots in. Not 100% sure if I was really hitting the cartel members.

  Once we got a few of them we continued through the dirt streets. Shooting at any of the men that shot at us.

  "Clear." Soap looked around.

  "Secure the house. Then we will go for Hassan."

  We moved closer to the door to the house. I checked my back and made eye contact with Ghost. I quickly moved my head back forward.

  "Cuidado con todas las ventanas y puertas... están entrando..." I heard one of them whisper through the wall.

  "Cartel will move him fast." Soap brought up in his husky voice.

  "Then we move faster." Alejandro mused. "Take the door." Soap slowly pushed the door open. "Heads up, they're ready."

  We slowly walked into the house and the second we did we heard someone yell. "El hijo de puta!"

  The second Soap entered the hallway he shot what I assumed to be the man who screamed before.

  "Doorway, right side." Alejandro instructed. Soap did as he said but didn't find anything. "Hassan could be anywhere..."

  We probably walked two feet before bullets were flying through the door. The wood was chipped and in the wall from the force of the bullet. Soap threw in a grenade and we all took a few steps back. Except for Ghost. Who I conveniently backed up into.

  "Sorry." I muttered and took two steps forward to get out of his way.

  There was a loud boom and a flash of yellow light. I didn't even want to look into the room.

  Soap kicked the door open but I looked the other way. "Room clear."

  "Nice work, Hermano."

  "No sign of Hassan."

  "Not yet."

  Soap entered the room to make sure it was actually clear and we continued walking.

  "Keep clearing, Sargent." Ghost's low English accent rang through my brain from behind me.

  "Clear. What happened to the families here?"

  "The cartel brings violence. So they leave." Alejandro informed. We walked to the back door and I stood out of the way. "Ready to move." Soap went to open the door then the colonel put his hand on the door. "Stand by. Victor dos, this is uno- uno. Despliega humo. Nos estamos mudando." He spoke over the coms.

  I looked out the window and saw smoke form outside.

  "Where's your family, Alejandro?" Soap looked at him.

  "I keep that a secret, hermano... to protect them." Alejandro looked back at Soap.

  Martin does not want protection. He wants to be just like his father on the field.

  "We have concealment." Ghost spoke as he looked out the window.  I looked at him as he spoke. He looked back down at me. "Ready, private?"

  "I don't have a choice."

  He chuckled slightly at that. "No. You don't."

"Let's move." Alejandro stood up. "On me, Soap." He opened the door and we all followed behind. The white two story house was right in front of us. "This is where they were hiding Hassan. Expect resistance. Todos los equipos, establezcan la contención. Preparación para la violación."

  One of his men shot open the door and kicked it in. As we entered we were immediately met with resistance. I aimed my gun for his head and pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed past Soap and Alejandro right into the cartel member's head. Soap walked straight ahead and got a guy hiding behind a blue door.

  The house itself was cute. It reminded me of Alejandro's, with bright yellow walls and the doors having a painted trim. There was a painting of the mountains and a bunch of house plants. It was very homey and warm.

  "Clear! No Hassan." Alejandro spoke through the com.

  "Second deck." Ghost replied.

   "Sí. Vamos. Let's move upstairs and get Hassan."

  I followed behind Soap. "You think he's actually up there?"

  "Fuckin' better be." Soap responded without looking at me.

  "Holding at the stairs." Alejandro spoke as we heard another gunshot.  Soap and I turned to find the staircase. We slowly crept our way up the red tiled stairs. "If Hassan is here, he is in this room." Alejandro whispered as we made it to the second floor.

  Soap and I walked in first and started getting shot at. We fired back but there was no sign of Hassan.

  "You two secure the room. I'll cover." Alejandro instructed as Soap and I walked around the room.

  "We got Hassan cornered. Get in there." Ghost said as we made it to another painted door.

  Soap kicked it in. "Clear. No Hassan."

  "Todos los vencedores, apuntan a construir de forma segura. Negativo en Hassan."

  "Entendido que." Rudy responded to Alejandro from the coms.

  Alejandro let out a deep sigh. One of frustration and exhaustion. "They must've moved him."

  "When?" Soap asked. I looked out the window and saw a few dead cartel members.

  "Recently."

  "Quds Force. That's his flag." Ghost pointed to the desk. It was littered in books and paper.

  "He was here."

  "Alejandro's intel was good." I could hear Soap smile.

  "Comandante! El ejército está llegando!" Rudy yelled in a panic.

  Shit.

[weirdefilippis]

Hello there! Thank you for being so open about answering questions here, it's so interesting to see your processes. I was wondering if you might feel comfortable going into your thoughts and intentions behind your writing choices with Rahne Sinclair in your New Mutants run? It's probably the most controversial part of the run - especially to fans of the character from the original run from the 80s. Do you have any thoughts on the fan reaction as well?

A lot of comic writers fall into the trap of trying to energize a book or a fanbase by doing something shocking and new.

We are not above that temptation, and have fallen prey to it a couple of times, two in rapid succession.

The first was when we were asked to pitch what we'd do with Iron Man (years before the movie came out or was announced). We did the shocking thing - we killed him. Pitched an arc where Tony Stark was dying and did all he could to prevent it before he realized he couldn't. He'd die at the end of the arc, and his personality would go on to become the AI that powered the suit while others wore it.

We loved our grand, bold idea - not knowing how bad this would be if they were planning a movie featuring Tony Stark.

We didn't get that job, and all they told us is that they "had plans" for Tony and didn't want him dead.

Now, when we pitched New Mutants, we wanted to update some of our favorites from the classic team. And with Rahne, we knew the accent would likely have diminished over time - as it does with a lot of immigrants. But having had it spelled out on the page the way it had been during the classic New Mutants run meant this would be really noticeable.

Writing Rahne's return was right around this time we had that chance to pitch for Iron Man, and we didn't take the right lesson from not getting that gig - we'd chalked it up to bad timing. So we did it again, going for the big change - we decided to lean into how jarring losing the accent would be to the readers, and make it a deliberate choice on her part to reinvent herself because the wolf was no longer with her.

It made sense - she lost this part of herself and found herself inexplicably missing it. So she wanted to shake things up, shake herself up. Prove herself more adult, more American.

And that led to her being someone who would make a huge lapse in judgement as a teacher.

We thought it would get people talking.

It did, but not always in positive ways.

Like we said, writers do this a lot in comics. They want to make their mark, and shake things up.

In retrospect, a milder version without the kiss with Josh may have worked better. Perhaps having Dani able to talk about the other changes with her would have made them make sense a bit more.

But whatever the mistake was, we look back at it as mishandled. Not by Marvel, by us. We swung for the fences and didn't connect.

Live and learn.

These days, we're less inclined to want to shake things up so dramatically.

We've also seen enough teacher-student stories to know we don't want to write any more of them, so we totally get why that kiss still bothers Rahne fans to this day.

As we said, live and learn.

There isn't much we'd change about what we did on New Mutants and New X-Men (regardless of reactions to it), but there are a few big things.

And that kiss is one of them.

[thecrazyworldbuilder]

Just going to dump some of my drafts here:

Zealots, religion and cults brainstorm:

"We worship Chrome. All gods are reflections of ourselves, and in them, we see but our own faces, our own ideas - Warped through the image of the god itself. Chrome is merciful. He shows us the truth, he shows us who we truly are, deeper than skin, flesh and bone; One True Mirror. He teaches us to let go of attachment to what we are, and to seek out the who we are, for that is who we truly want to be, hidden beneath our mortal shell." <- Cyberpunk guys who'd advocate for therians and trans folks, but who are bit too insistent on "Let go of your flesh" part of their transhumanist religion.

"All gods want us mortals dead. Otherwise, we'd be born immortal. The only difference between the gods is the manner of how and the reason of why they want us dead. We follow the teachings of Xarrios, the god of predators, warriors, of honor and blood. He teaches us that as mortals, it doesn't matter how we live, but to how we die, and our life should all lead to that very death. Survive, and kill honoring the ones whose lives you end - As this might be the only honor they could gain in their pitiful lives. With your weapon, you bring them one last grace. Live by the sword, and die by it, at peace." <- Fucking hell dude.

"There are only two gods. Mother that brings life, and Father who takes it away. Women are the treasure of life; They gift progeny, they multiply whatever you give them. Yarn they turn into clothes; Raw meat, fruit and vegetables they turn into food; Without them, no child would have ever been born. And men are the doom, the end, the killers. They hunt, they uproot trees, they slay enemies - Whatever they do, they destroy, and what they destroy they reshape." <- A character following those teachings would be very fun to break by meeting someone who completely doesn't fit them. Homosexual scenarios included, too; A maiden of this religion meeting a battle-scarred butch who can crack skulls with bare hands, or a warrior meeting a fragile and caring twink.

A brand of clothing in a fantasy world called "Amidas" that got golden accents woven into every article of clothing they make.

Artifacts brainstorm

Books written by an entity beyond mortal powers, containing complete knowledge on any matter, written in difficult to decipher and tight-packed information scripts. They have no names or titles, only being known by the unique sigils written on the front cover, and referred to by names invented by mortals who came in their possession.

A sphere of metal with an internal powersource that, when aligned properly with the night sky, with holes corresponding to the stars of the final frontier, allows for incredibly accurate predictions of all events in a specified time frame no longer than 53 years.

A pair of scissors which "walk" towards any location, object, or person, when ordered. Watch out not to lose them.

X

Star Wars, but without humans as a species. Aliens only.

The Terminator franchise but: A) They use "Back to the Future"-like time machine tech, and; B) The setting itself is more of a "medieval steampunk" vibe. The Terminators are constructs, often using mimics as a component in their body.

Fallout, but everyone who survived the Great War was hit with amnesia, as well as all electric tech being destroyed, all due to a worldwide-powerful EMP experimental warhead messing up people's brains and short-circuiting the electric devices.

Rules of reality brainstorm

Gods, when in disguise, can only wear a coat of one color. As people, this is represented by clothes being all of one color, as animals, it is represented in lack of any markings on their hide/fur/feathers.

If you put pair A portal through a pair B portal, the A portal will now mirror whatever enters it. Useful for instantly making left-handed objects out of right-handed ones. If a living person walks through, the whole world will appear mirrored - And they will appear mirrored to others.

[delilahcalicocat]

★~Good Boy~★

{Rating: Smut}

{Warnings: Unprotected sex, Creampie, Oral Sex, Dom!Fem!Reader, Sub! Finn Balor, Kissing, Dom / Sub dynamic, Drinking, Mommy Kink}

{Pairing: Sub!Finn Balor x Dom!Fem!Reader}

(This is an alternative universe)

•《Summary: Finn comes back after a long trip with his gang and asks Y/N to help him calm down, The Reader owns a Private little club cabin in scotland, where she provides men with a woman after rough days》•

It was finally Wednesday, Finn had just got to your cozy little cabin in Scotland. He was tired and his face showed that.

"Um, Ma'am?" He spoke up slightly, seeing you reading a book at the bar

"Yes? What do you need Finn?" You asked

Your Scottish Accent Thick like honey as you spoke. It sent Finn in a daze before he came back to reality.

"Uh, Ma'am.. I want to release some.. Tension." He said.

"Ah, of course.. you want my services." You spoke, pouring him a shot of his favorite brandy

"Yes, Indeed Ma'am.." He said softly

"So, Which of the girls can I provide you with tonight? Liv? Rhea? Who?" You asked

He thought for a moment, staring into your eyes. He then spoke up

"Y-You.. Madame.." He said quietly

You sighed, and blinked putting the bottle of brandy away.

You Looked over, at Naomi. You called her over to watch the bar.

"I'll be back Naomi, keep watch. In-case.. y'know.. they come back." You said, Naomi nodded as you and Finn walked up the stairs

You walked up to your quarters with Finn, he hadn't been to your place for a while. So he was worried that you'd be mad about this.

You Locked the door to your quarters, and let Finn sit on your bed

"So, Mr. Balor. It's been quite long, where have you been?" You asked

"Fuckin' Hell, I've been fighting with imperium. Dom and Damian are in the fuckin infirmary.. we can't fight back until their healed." He sighed

"Finn, are you saying you've been fighting with the imperium.. why would you pick a fight with them? They have more power than you think.." You spoke

"Chad sold them phony bullets, and told them he got them from us. Gunther threatened us all, to shoot up yer saloon unless we pay up.." the Irishman spoke with a sigh

"Oh, Finn.. ye shouldn't be fightin' bloody hell. I'll fuckin' punch them in the face if they leave another mark on one of me girls." You sighed

"I know, but if they shoot up yer saloon. I'll have no place to go if I need me woman.." He said

"But.. Finn. Your gonna fuckin' die if you keep fighting. Please. Your more important than some stupid saloon." You admitted to him

"Please, Mommy. Just shut up and fuck me..." He spoke quietly.

You walked over to your bed, sitting next to him.. your purple maid-like dress was in the corner with his garments in seconds.

You started to creep your way up his thighs, making your way to his cock. Before starting to Bob your head up and down.

"Gah.. Ple-Please Mommy! I'm gonna cum.."

"Go ahead, cum." You spoke firmly

Your words made him instantly cum, he looked a little embarrassed. Until you hopped up onto him

"Y'know, I've missed you a lot my love" you spoke, grinding your hips down swiftly

Your actions made Finn groan a little.

"I've.. missed.. you... too.. Mommy..." He said through small choked little groans.

"So, I'll ask ye now. What's more important? Me or the phony blame from Gable?" You asked

"Y-Y-You! M..Mommy." He moaned softly

You leaned down to kiss him, you trapped him into that kiss.

"U-Uh.. M-Mommy?"

"Yes? Finn?"

"I need to... Cum... the rules say-"

"The rules don't matter to me, I'm the owner of this place now. Your my only clientele. You can do whatever you want." You spoke

Finn sighed, and then came.

He tried to be quiet but failed, you sat there because you had came before him.

Your cunt milking every drop of cum he had in him.

He wanted to drift off to sleep, but he was hesitant.

"Go ahead, my good boy, I'll make sure you'll be ready for tomorrow when Damian and Dominik come to get you" You spoke, standing up and putting your dress back on.

[silent-raven13]

Little Hobie variant

Earth 138-10

Spider Band were on a mission as they saw one anomaly tearing down a building.

Peter: Guys, save the civilians! Me and Miguel would handle this! -He swings to stop the large anomaly-

Miguel already fighting off the anomaly with his talons. The rest of the Spider gang were swinging catching civilians left and right. Sometimes they play a game on who save the most.

Hobie grab five at a time: That's ten! -he got to a safe area putting them all together-

Pavtri was able to save a bus filled with students: That's twenty three! -he looks in the buss counting- Yup! 23!

Gwen grabs two: This makes sixteen!

Miles using his Spider-man strength to lift a heavy block from the ground hearing people: I got one, two, three, four... I got twenty -the people came out underneath the rumble.-

Hobie swing next to him: Luv, you really want to win.

Miles giggles: Sure thing!

Everyone was doing their part in saving from the chaos of the anomaly. When Peter and Miguel were able to take it down, the clean up crew came by.

Pavtri happily bounce: Haha, I win! -having the highest numbers from all of them-

Gwen sips a cold bottle of water: Looks like we're doing Karaoke night! -she winks at Miles-

Miles groans: Ya'll just want me to sing! -He's not even good!- I'ma go inspect some more civilians.

Hobie chuckles: Luv, you sing amazing.

Miles snorted: Your just saying that to make me happy! -he walks along his boyfriend- You know I'm a terrible singer.

Hobie: So? I love it. You always show so much passion. -He leans over trying to give him a kiss- C'mere.

Miles giggles feeling his boyfriend's arms around his waist pulling him closer for a kiss: Bae! Not now, we gotta find survivors.

Hobie pouts under his mask: Awe, luv.

Then the two heard: Help! Help! Someone help us! We're stuck! -The Spider-men's Spider Senses kicked in- Help!

Miles quickly rushes over to the voice: Hey? Can anyone hear me?"

A child's voice shouted: Over here!

Then a cries of children: HELP! Our mom is trap! Help us!

Hobie spotted a massive piles of stone from a building: Sunflower, they're over there. -The two quickly went over to lift up the large pieces of rocks.-

An opening slit from the two Spider-man lifting the large piece of wall had a group of children coming out. Five children with one older girl holding a baby, they were covered in debris from the crumble walls. All of them being black children looking in panic. The oldest girl cried: Help! My little brother is under there with our ma! Our mama is injured! -she had a thick Patios accent being so scared-

The other children cries out loud in panic: Save them! Mama! Please! -they were tugging on their legs with panic in their eyes-

Hobie took over: Luv, I got this! Go under and save them! -he uses all his strength lifting up the large piece of rock-

Miles nodded as he went into the opening: You kids stay here! Don't worry I'ma save your mom and brother -he wants underneath having to crotch down- Hello? Is anyone there!

Hobie holds the large wall then he said: Lyla, darling... looks like I need back up.

Lyla: On it! I'll let Gwen and Pav know your location!

Miles still underneath the massive rumble seeing the family were possibly buried by the top floor: Hello? -he kept moving being careful to not cause the walls to come down- Hello?

A child's voice rings his ear: Ova here! Help! My ma... she got hit by the head! -Miles quickly follow the voice being surprised to find a little boy lifting the top part of the crumble walls with all his might while an unconscious woman lay at his side. The woman had a bloody mark on her head-

The boy cries: Help! My ma... she's not waking up -his arms shakes as he cries being so scared. The little dark skinned boy look like he's in rough shape, cuts and marks on his face and arms- Please... I don't wanna die!

Miles quickly took over: Don't worry, little guy. I got this. I'm here to save you and your mom. -He holds the crumble wall seeing the little boy gawking at him- Watch your head kid... and your mom's. -The little boy quickly lay his body on his mom's head and cover his own with his arms-

The Spider-man slowly got up using all his strength to lift the massive wall from above, this causes a bit of rumbles and debris to fall. Hobie quickly toss the other large wall to let Miles from below to lift all the massive weight. Hobie shouted at the kids: Move out of the way! -He quickly grab all the children to move away-

Gwen and Pavtri quickly came with medics at their side. Gwen said: We came as fast as we could!

Miles tosses the upper broken walls and other rocks leaving a massive opening for the two survivors: See, told you, I'll save you. -Giving a smile under his mask. The bright light had Miles looking angelic in the boy's eyes. The Spider-man picks the two up having to jump out of the hole-

Pavtri gasps: Miles, you're safe! Oh thank goodness! -He went to help him with the woman's body- Is she okay?

Miles nodded: She hit her head from a rock. -He holds the little boy in his arms who seems to hug him so tight- We need to have her go into med-bay.

Then the children came crying: MOM! HOBIE!

Miles and Pavtri blinks a couple of times: Huh, Hobie? -Then Miles got a good look at the little boy, no doubt about it. It's a small version of Hobie Brown. The little boy have big twists out on his massive coily hair, his inky dark eyes filled with tears as he sniffs, and got a band-aid on the bridge of his nose. Yup, that's Hobie Brown- Your Hobie!

The little boy nodded wiping the snot from his nose before he hugs Miles tightly with his arms around his neck: Mmhhmm. -he's being shy-

The oldest girl spoke up: Hobie, come on! We have to get checked! The white Spider-lady said we have to get our injuries checked!

The little Hobie shook his head: No! I'ma stay right here!

Pavtri hums: Looks like he got a crush on you.

Miles: Stop that. He just sees me as a hero. I save him and his family -Then saw his boyfriend and Gwen- Hey, guys! I guess you figured it out, huh? -Gwen giggling while Hobie leans with his hands in his vest pockets.-

Gwen giggles: Hahaha, Hobie already figured out when he saw the oldest sister.

Spider-Punk shrugs: Reminded me lot of me sis... then I noticed my sis use to have braids like that and a pink dress. -He noticed the other siblings being his own sibling variants, too- So this is the ole chap that risk his life for his fam, hmm? -Being curious at the little version of him-

The little boy scowls turning at the Spider-Punk: What are you lookin' at, yuh Bumboclatt ediat! -Miles' eyes widen while Spider-Punk's eyes mask show no reaction, but he was grinning underneath his mask-

The oldest sister gasps: HOBIE! You mad! That's rude! Apologize!

Little Hobie huffs: NO! -then glares at Spider-Punk- Batty hole!

Pavtri looks in shock: He got a mouth!

Miles saw Gwen and Hobie cracking up: That's not nice, Hobie. You should apologize, he help me to save you. -The little boy looks at him with those puppy eyes and a pout-

Little Hobie: No! -he snuggles against Miles feeling safe-

The other siblings said: Hobie, you're such a baby!

Little Hobie cries: No, I'm not!

Spider-punk chuckles: Alright. Alright, leave the baby alone. -Getting a nasty glare from the little boy- He wants to be with his hero.

Miles pouted at him, but ignores him: How about we go together? You breathe in all this debris and that could lead to dangerous health risk.

Little Hobie nodded: Okay.

When the small group went to medic team, they saw how much damages some civilians gotten. So many of them were taken to the nearest hospital. Some Spider-heroes stayed to make sure they were getting the attention they need. Miles being one to voice his opinion: So she can't be taken care of because she doesn't have insurance! Are you insane! She got like six kids! You're telling me you're not gonna help her! -Already yelling at the white doctor who seems to avoid the black woman-

Spider-Punk was with the other children seeing Miles looking pissed off: Pav... Gwendy watch the lil rugrats for me. -He went over to be the big bad scary Spider-man, he heard the doctor scoffs-

The white doctor snorted: Then it's her fault to have so many kids when she knew she couldn't afford insurance. Honestly, mothers on their wellfare are always the ones begging for drugs or free hand- the doctor quickly shut up when Spider-punk slams his hand on the walls making a hole in it. Something in him filled him with anger, hearing this doctor shitting on a mother of six for being poor and black got him to remember his own childhood-

Spider-Punk's voice low: What was that? Your going to deny her because of the color of her skin, hmm?

Miles being pump: And your job as a doctor is to help those in need!

The doctor scowls at the two: I will call security and have her kicked out if you two don't calm down! I'm doing my job!

Hobie was about to break this man's bones until the two heard: You two that's enough. We'll take them to our medical facility seeing how this doctor is refusing service to them. -Miguel stood wearing his Spider-man suit looking menacing, then he glares down at the doctor- I do hope your ready for a massive lawsuit

Miles happily claps: Yes! Fuck him up, tío! -He hugs Miguel being happy at the way the doctor look a bit terrified.-

Hobie pouted under his mask being jealous. But the three noticed fluffy twist out hair below, seeing the Little Hobie scowling at the doctor: Bombaclatt! -he kicks the doctor in the shin then hugs Miles' left leg-

The doctor jumps on one foot in pain: Ah! That's it! You are all out of here! Get out! Security!

Miles pick up the little Hobie who was sticking his tongue out and giving the finger at the doctor: You don't scare me, pussyhole!

Spider-Punk laughs along: Bloodclot! -He curses along his little variant-

Miguel rolled his eyes as he had the other Spider-heroes help move the Mrs. Brown and the children to their medical facilities.

Back at Spider Society, all the Browns were wearing Gizmo to help them stay in longs period of time. Little Hobie was being checked by Doctors the same with his siblings. His mother went into a coma after they took her to get her brain scanned. She suffers from a head injury going into a concussion then a coma which causes the kids to cry.

The older sister crying: What are we going to do? Mama is all we have left. -Gwen and Pavtri stood being worried-

Spider-punk rubs his neck: I dunno. -It gave him flash backs of his own childhood, his own struggles.-

Miles was with Little Hobie and the doctor: Looks like he's fine. Minor cuts, but nothing major. I do need them to stay here for a couple of days to check on their lungs, especially the baby. It's dangerous at their age to be breathing all that debris.

Miles nodded: Alright, I was worried because they were covered in that stuff, too.

The doctor nodded: Then we must be on watch and see if any of them have a forms of irritation. -He saw the Little Hobie wipe his nose with his arm-

Miles took a tissue to wipe his nose: Don't do that, Hobie. Here, blow. -Little Hobie blows seeing how the Spider-man clean his nose with a tissue. His dark inky eyes gleam at his hero- Good, nińo.

When they got back to the other children, Miles had the chance to finally remove his Spider-man mask. His pretty face got the Brown children looking at him with shock: You like us! -They haven't seen a superhero like them, especially little Hobie was at awe. His hand touches Miles' cheek being amazed-

Little Hobie: You like me!

Miles chuckles: Hahaha, you mean black? Yeah! There's a few of us as Spider-man.

Pavtri awed: Awwwweee, how cute. Little Hobie is admiring you!

Gwen nudging Spider-Punk: Ehh? Ehh! Looks like Hobies are meant to like Miles. -she wiggle her eyebrows-

Spider-Punk finally remove his mask: Oi, what about me, you lil sprogs? -They gasps seeing his face-

The older sister: Wow, you look like Hobie!

Spider-Punk chuckles: I am Hobie!

Little Hobie scowls: Your not Hobie! I am! -He wiggles to get down, Miles let him. The little kid went to kick Spider-punk in shin then rushes to be picked up by Miles again- I am HOBIE!

Hobie 138b winced: Ah, my bloody shin! -he hops in one foot in pain- Your gonna get it, you lil brat.

Little Hobie stick his tongue at him: AHH! -He snuggles against Miles- He's mean! I don't like him!

Miles calms him down: Awe, don't worry, Hobie. I'll protect you!

Hobie gasps: LUV! YOU ARE MINE!

Little Hobie gave a wicked smirk at him having Gwen and Pavtri laugh at their punk friend.

[realityhelixcreates]

In the End it Will All Return as Scars Ch. 2

Still Alive...So That's Progress.

BG3/BTS crossover crackfic

Rating: MATURE

Captured by mind flayer explorers and transported with them to their own universe, Sara and her 'husbands' must now traverse a new world, trying to find one another, purge themselves of mind flayer parasites, and discover a way back home.

Sara escapes the wrecked Nautiloid ship, and finds some friends. In searching for her husbands, she runs into her worst enemy.

Prev Next

You are falling from the sky.

The seashell ship, if it is a living thing, is dying. Too weak to hold itself in the air, its steep descent sends debris, bodies, and people tumbling. You frantically flail about for anything to grab on to, rolling end over end until crashing hard into the far wall of the helm. Next to you is a large breach in the hull, the hole the dragon tore open. And on the other side of that...

The ilithid.

Burned, bruised, bleeding, but still alive, the monster glares at you from across the breach, hatred brimming in its cephalopod features. It is a hatred shared. This creature and its cronies have kidnapped you and the men you were entrusted to, disrupted your home, implanted you with yet another monster, and tried to kill your new friend. Now the ship is crashing, and you and everybody on it are probably going to die. All because of this thing. You hate this monstrosity, and if you have to die here, you are damn well going to take it with you!

You raise your club over your head, and throw yourself across the breach towards it. A barrage of flying debris slams into you, cracking against your skull. You are sucked out of the hole and into the clouds outside.

You don't feel yourself hit the ground.

You do, however, feel yourself wake back up, your bruises and burns refusing to let you die in peace. The tadpole squirms in your head, waking you up completely, and you haul yourself up onto your shaky legs.

You aren't dead. Your body isn't even broken, your club is still bound to your hand, and your glasses are still on your face. It's as if something caught you, scooped you gently out of the sky and set you down on the sand. On your right is a wide river. On your left is the shattered hulk of the ship, its huge shell cracked open, chunks of pink flesh and shards of carapace scattered all over the beach.

Could anyone else have survived this? If you did, surely there are others.

Staggering down the beach, you spot the sprawled figure of the dark haired woman, her black braid snaking over the sand.

“Hey! Hey, are you alive?” you call softly, gently patting her cheek. “Hey!”

Her eyes snap open with a gasp, and she drags herself to her feet. She hides an odd object in her armor, but you don't pay it much attention. You have other concerns.

“You're alive? I'm alive?” she says, bewildered. “How...?”

“I'm not questioning it.” you say “I'll take anything I can get right now. You haven't seen our other friend, have you?”

“The Gith? I don't know that I'd call her a friend. It looks like she ran off without us.”

“I dunno...she might have been thrown further. Or...” You don't want to think about it. You don't even know her name, but you don't want to think about her being dead underneath the wreckage. You don't want to think about all the death that ship just caused. “Um, now what should we do? Where do we go? I don't know where we are.”

“Neither do I. I tried to tell the ship to take us close to Baldur's Gate, but I think it may have missed the mark. Have you been there?”

“I've...heard the name.” Campaign settings in your father's tabletop books. A great city on the Sword Coast. Faerun. You have some idea now, where you are. It is not your world, but it is similar, at least moreso than the hell you just left. The woman can probably tell you aren't a local; your accents are very different, but at least you can understand each other.

“Well, first things first, we need to find shelter, supplies, some kind of healer. You're infected too, I assume.” at your nod, she continues. “Pointless to worry about it if we just die from exposure or dehydration first.”

“And finding anything is easier if we stick together.”

“Exactly. We need each other, and we both know what's at stake here. Can't think of better company. I'm Shadowheart, by the way.”

“Sara.” you supply. “About that...while you were on the ship, did you see any human men with black eyes? White scelra of course, but very dark irises?”

She blinks.

“Actually...yes. Just one. He helped me escape my pod, but I lost track of him on the helm.”

“The helm?” One of them was there, all the while you were fighting?

“Unfortunately. You know him? He was dressed unusually as well.”

She eyes your ragged dress. You will need something else to wear soon, but it can wait.

“He's one of my 'husbands'.” you reply, and her eyebrow arches.

“Plural?” she asks. “Sounds tiring.”

“It was a political thing. There's seven, and I need to find them. One way or another.”

“Well, I wish you luck. Anyway, we wont find anything standing around here.”

Destruction covers the beach; broken rock formations jut from shallows poisoned with not quite blood from the crushed ship. Bodies are strewn in the sand. Nobody you know, but some of them are definitely from your world, and will never return. More to curse the mind flayers for.

A partially demolished pier, and a crate full of fresh water jugs tell you that civilization is at least occasionally near. Fishermen come here sometimes, often enough to leave supplies behind. Shadowheart doesn't hesitate to appropriate one of the jugs. It is unlikely the fishermen will be able to use this beach again for some time.

Rounding a large rock formation, you find yourself faced with a detached chunk of nautiloid hallway. The leaking blood burns, filling the hallway with smoke. There may be pods in there. You step into the billowing clouds and are immediately jumped by a crawling brain. You scream, and Shadowheart whacks the thing off your back with a hard swing of her mace. She grabs your hand and runs with you through the blinding hallway, all the way into the sunlight.

“Pods?” you cough.

“None.” she confirms. “So there were more of those awful things.”

“Hey! Hey, is somebody over there?” someone calls in a hushed voice. You rub the smoke from your eyes.

A very pale, white haired elven man in fancy clothes stalks the path next to the hull. He hovers near a patch of scrubby brush, peering over the leaves.

“Hurry!” he beckons you over urgently. “I've got one of those brain things cornered!”

You rush to help him.

“We just fought one of those.” you whisper, gripping your vine covered club. “Hit them hard enough, and they'll die.”

A small boar bursts out of the brush, snorting and squealing as it runs, and you stumble backward into the pale elfs frigid grip.

“Most things do.” he murmurs. You feel a cold sharpness at your throat. A knife!

“Just hold still, there's a good girl.” He growls into your ear. Frustration and embarrassment flush your face alongside the fear. You had walked right into this. “I saw you scuttling about on that ship, didn't I? You're in league with them aren't you? Those tentacled-aagh!”

Again, something in your mind twists and reaches out to his. Just like with the gith woman, you see through other eyes, this time prowling dark, busy streets. The sound of nearby murmurs and far away shouting merge into a consistent drone. A very strange hunger burns in your throat, just about the only thing in you that feels any warmth at all. The memory fades into light and fear.

“What is that?” he demands. “What's going on?”

“Not the brightest, are you?” Shadowheart jeers, tightening her hold on her mace. “Do be careful. I'd like her alive.”

“You were on the ship too, right?” you say, peeling yourself away from his arms, and his knife. “The mind flayers infested you with something, didn't they? Us too.”

“That vile little worm?”

“The same thing happened with someone else on the ship. That psychic connection. Mind flayers can all talk to each other with their minds. I think these parasites are trying to do the same, but they're not fully developed, so it allows us to do it too, at least a little.”

“With your man too, on the ship.” Shadowheart mentions. “It was very disorienting.”

“I see. That does explain it, somewhat.” the pale elf says “And to think, I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards! Apologies.”

“Accepted.” you say. “On the condition that you never do it again.”

“Easy enough. My name is Astarion. I was in Baldur's gate when those beasts snatched me up.”

“I've never been.” you say.

“I'll have to take you sometime.” he offers with a flirtatious little smile. “I'm sure you'll love the food as much as I do.”

“She has seven husbands.” Shadowheart interjects, amused.

“Well! Sounds like you keep busy!”

“No, it's more like a political union...it's complicated! But when you were on the ship, did you see any black eyed men? Humans?”

He thinks.

“Hmm. Well, I did see two human men, but they were being chased by a clawed brain. They ran past my pod so fast, I couldn't really get a look at their eyes.” He shrugs. “Could have been anybody. Sorry. So do you know anything else about these worms?”

“Well...” you say “They're larval ilithids. So, if we ignore them, they'll grow, and pupate, and turn us into ilithids too.”

“Turn us-!” he chuckles to cover his shock, the sound growing into an uncomfortable laugh. “Of course it'll turn me into a monster. What else could I expect? But...if we can find an expert...perhaps someone who knows how to control them, there might still be time.”

“We should stick together.” you suggest.

“Are you sure?” Shadowheart asks “He did just try to kill you.”

You wave your hand dismissively.

“He didn't. If he was really trying to kill me, he would have succeeded. I totally fell for it.”

“You absolutely did.” Astarion adds.

“Well, I'd appreciate it if you were more careful.” she scolds “You won't be finding any of your black eyed men if you are dead. Won't be much use to us either.”

She is right. You're still full of adrenaline, and acting reckless. At the same time, anyone who had been on that ship was a possible ally.

“You know, I was thinking of going this alone, but perhaps it really is better to stick with the herd.” Astarion says. “All right, lead on.”

The bulk of the wrecked nautiloid blocks the way off the beach so completely that you can't help but enter it again in search of a way through. You find yourself on the helm once more, sick with the recent memories of what happened here. The roof and the far wall are completely gone, stringy flesh and jagged bone reaching into the sky.

Next to your feet, the rubble shifts. A purplish, cephalopod head appears. The ilithid! Even more horribly injured than the last time you saw it, yet somehow still alive!

You could put an end to this, here and now, if only you didn't feel...compassion? Yes, compassion, for the creatures obvious suffering. But you can do something about it. You can help.

Your first instinct is always to help. You can help. You don't have to think, thinking is mercifully done for you. You don't have to worry about spending the rest of your life as an outsider, about the coldness of most of your husbands, their uncertainty and confusion, or your own insecurities. You can have a simple purpose, a simple life.

All you have to do is kneel down next to the injured mind flayer. All you have to do is lower your head and hold still. To serve is a joy, to die for it, an honor! It is your only reason for living.

Something else collides with your mind, shaking the ilithids weakening control. Another larva, crying out for connection, for survival. It shoves the mind flayer out, and once again, you find yourself seeing through someone else's eyes.

You are surrounded by void, half blinded by floodlights, all focused on you. From out of the darkness, tiny lights spring, dancing stars arranged in huge blocks, in the tens of thousands. Their colors oscillate as they wave back and forth, finally settling on bright purple.

Yet you remain on the broken helm, the mind flayer staring up, the wet, orange pearls of its eyes radiating malice. Your hatred for the monster returns, stronger than ever. Your knees had been bending. Whoever's memories just disrupted the ilithids influence over you, has saved your life, and you will not give this thing a moment to regain its strength.

You raise your bone club high, and bring it down hard on the ilithids head, over and over, until there is nothing recognizable left.

Shadowheart and Astarion both give you the space to catch your breath, and rest your aching arms, though they seem to also have an appreciation for the brutality of your actions. You don't know what to think about it. Before today, you had not been a violent person, but now you have killed multiple thinking beings. Sure, you could say they started it, but how many more times will it happen? You know this world is dangerous, full of monsters. You already have one nesting in your brain!

Speaking of in your brain...

“Someone else is here.” you announce. “I felt our minds touch.”

“Sounds saucy.” Astarion comments, glancing around in search of survivors.

“Not the time, Astarion.” you say bluntly. You never were good at dealing with flirting. Wanted or unwanted, you never know how to respond, coming off as defensive or dismissive. It is probably one of the many, many reasons you had still been single at your age, before some very, powerful entities chose a different fate for you.

“Shadowheart, isn't this where you said you lost him?” you ask.

“Yes. Some rubble fell on us, and then the ship began to crash, and there wasn't time to dig him out before everything went pear shaped.” she gravitates toward a pile of fleshy debris. “I think...maybe...here?”

The two of you begin moving hunks of the fallen ships meat and carapace, until you spot a graceful tan hand reaching weakly out from under the gooey heap.

“Here!” you cry, digging faster. You recognize those rings. “Jamsiman! Geoui da wateo!”

Astarion finally joins in, shifting small globs of wreckage, but every bit counts. Together, you uncover a familiar figure, motionless and breathing very shallowly.

“Hoseok...” you whisper, kneeling beside him. His eyes crack open and roll your way.

“누나...” he breathes, barely able to get any sound out. Alive, and clinging tight to that.

Your name is Jung Hoseok, and this is the worst day of your life.

Translations:

1. “Wait! We're almost there!”

2. “ Nuna...”('Older sister'. A word used by men to refer to women who are older than themselves, related or not.)

[just-1-scorpio]

Reading Asterion by Alessa Thron, so you don't have to. Chapter 12 and 13.

This is a shared review, and discusion/dissing by me, and @wordsmithic

This time the positivs is that it was fun talking and joking about it. That's one of the reason why this is longer then the previouse ones.

So chapter 12 starts with Ariadne and Asterion having a dinner. They talk a bit, then Ariadne goas to sleep.

After that Ariadne wakes up, surounded by three strange man. Soon a forth man apears too. And he is no other then Hades himself. And soon turns out that the three men are Erebus, Thanatos, and Charon. Amd then she has an argument with Hades. And turns out Asterion have put a magical mark on her, at the night she tryd to kill her. But the five of them also come up with a really stupid plan. Which is Ariadne surviving the Labyrinth, wining Asterion's trust, and finding the mole.

wordsmithic: Why are we giving Hades a surname? He is THE Hades. There's no need for that. There never was

scorpio: I was asking the same question about Hades having a surname.

wordsmithic: Okay so... those powerful divinities are reduced to thuggish and rude types... I hate it heeeree

wordsmithic: Also why there are no repercussions for speaking like this to a god?? Oh noooo and now Ariadne has a magical mark from the Minotaur biting her when they had sex??? what the fuckk

wordsmithic: That's just such a random plot point

wordsmithic: also, for how she spoke to Hades (if you can put it up with the previous comment), is she actually some type of priestess or not? Does she have any faith? You cannot be a priestess in Greek Orthodoxy so I guess she could be a priestess for the old gods. *If* she is such a priestess why does she even talk to a god like this?

scorpio: I don't know.

wordsmithic: It doesnt make sense, as everything else in this book..

scorpio: The way how the gods are reduced to thugs, just feels as if Alessa wanted to write a mafia romanc, but Greece didn't hade one, that is similar to the Italian mafia, and decided to mix Greek mythology into it. I know that I said this before.

wordsmithic: I think we have SOME underworld groups but I understand why she didn't want to meddle with those and made new stuff. But she could have HUMANS being these thugs and ruggish types :o Not the literal gods! :o

scorpio: Yes. Especially when you look at how little reaserch she probably doas. The Thenatos, Charon, and Erebus are triplets in this book for exemple. So far it really feels like the Greek gods are here because of aesthetics, and because Greek mythology is popular.

wordsmithic: Unfortunately yes :( nothing new to see here :(

wordsmithic: Okay now they want HER to catch the mole near Asterion? Why? Doesn't Asterion have competent people around him and a lot of resources? It is a very convoluted plan for her to 1) get in the labyrinth and not die 2) win Asterion's trust 3) find the mole.

scorpio: I don't get this eather. Why her? Or at least a team of her, and a few of Asterion's competent men? The plan is just bad.

wordsmithic: Because plot! 😂

Then after this stupidly bad plan was made, Asterion arrives. Hades tells him that Ariadne tonight will be in the Labyrinth. Then Hades and the three leave.

wordsmithic: And they want her to do it tonight?? She's wounded from yesterday, right? Why not take some days to heal and get back into shape before going into the deadliest place in the city?

scorpio: Even if she was not wounded, giving her a few days to train still would have been a batter choise.

wordsmithic: They are GODS, Alessa, that's how they work!! They're not "ambushing" you if they decide to visit you! Oh god!!

wordsmithic: - I agree that she would need training! They can't just throw her in there

Then we cut to Ariadne prepering to the Labyrinth. Here she has a little conversetion with Vin, one of Asterion's bodyguards. And we learn a few things about her, and her past.

wordsmithic: Wait, Ariadne has an accent...? She's a Greek in a Greek city tho??? Does Alessa think that they all speak English in Styx?? Anglophone greek-myth writers and their fantasies, I swear... The author obviously doesn't mean some type of rural accent, otherwise it would have been explicitly mentioned. Not to mention people don't say that a rural accent needs to be "smoothened". They say this for accents in a foreign language

scorpio: If Alessa wrote dialect instead of accent, that would have been batter.

wordsmithic: I am not sure, about the dialect. Because dialects are already dying out here and only old people usually speak them. So by then, there wouldn't have been any left 🤷

wordsmithic: Why is everyone - including Ariadne - so nonchalant about it??

wordsmithic: That is.... new information, and very weirdly thrown at chapter 12. This is a vital part of who Ariadne is. We should know more of her hard training early on.

scorpio: The information delivery in this book is not the best.

wordsmithic: It's bad, it's bad xD Every now and then I'm like "WHAT??"

scorpio: It's just weirdly thrown into parts of the chapters, withouth any thought.

wordsmithic: Sometimes she's okay at it, other times.. Not at all 😂

wordsmithic: That's not necessarily bad but it feels a taaad out of place. St. Spyridon is not exactly going to aid you in a fight. I mean all saints can theoretically help you anywhere but St. Georgios is right there for this exact reason?? THE protector of fighters?? Hoes does one go "St. Spyridon HELP ME SLAUGHTER MY ENEMIES!!" ??

scorpio: Why I'm laughing at this "Help me slaughter my enemies".

So Ariadne is thrown into the Labyrinth. That's how chapter 13 starts. Asterion, Hades, and the three are watching from a balkony. Hades, and the three are enjoying the fight, Asterion is angry, and Medusa is watching from cameras, whaile texting with Hades. Ariadne of course slmost flawlessly acomplishes the Labyrinth, with only partioally being hit with a poisend dart. So yeah this is the most boring part of the chapter, and book so far. Also Hades, Erebus, Thanatos, and Charon have made a bet on Ariadne.

After Ariadne finished Asterion huries down to her, so he can treat her, before the poisen takes affect. He imedietly kisses her. Then when the poisen starts taking effect Ariadne starts halucinating. In the end Ariadne tells Asterion what happand to Lia. Shortly Minos tricked Ariadne into killing her. And Asterion forgives her.

wordsmithic: Sorry to be that nitpicky but in my mind these people are at least somewhat ethnically Greek (why not, when everyone has a Greek name and living in "Greece") so why use "witch" and "red-haired" as insults..?? That would sound so funny in Greek. Same goes for this one

scorpio: This is that tipical one liner, that is only funny, or makes sense in English.

wordsmithic: She googled malakas for 5 seconds. In 10 more seconds she could have learned more swearwords - some even translatable in English :'(

wordsmithic: NOW IT IS SURELY A GREAT TIME TO KISS, YES, NOT THAT'S SHE'S SLOWLY DYING FROM POISONING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

scorpio: "It's so romanctic when the male love intrest lifts the female love intrest, and kisses her, especially whaile she is dying from poisoning" - Alessa

wordsmithic: 😂😂😂 Get you a man who has his priorities straight - Alessa

scorpio: XD

wordsmithic: "You may be dying, but he kisses amazingly!"

scorpio: "Don't wory. His kiss is an antipoisen"

wordsmithic: "A metaphorical one, though. You will still die!"

scorpio: XD

wordsmithic: This book could have been 20k words shorter if they kissed for long and Ariadne died :P But no! Our luck must be bad

scorpio: It's unfortunet.

scorpio: Also I'm the only one, who doas not really find the lybirinth screen that exaiting?

wordsmithic: Oh my god I was about to comment this! I had zero worries for Ariadne in the Labyrinth because all went great and smoothly. So, she managed to make the Labyrinth chapter the most boring one. I skipped through so many paragraphs - and then went back to read them cause I had to review them :P

scorpio: If there is a fight screen, or a dangerouse screen, and you never have the feeling of "she will not make it", then it's a bad one. This type of screens are good when you are unsertent about the character's fate.

wordsmithic: Exactly! I was more worried when they attacked her and Asterion in Isthmia

scorpio: Me too.

wordsmithic: The Labyrinth was built up only to get wasted...And apparently Ariadne's trial had been more difficult than that

scorpio: Yes. It's a wasted oportunity.

wordsmithic: And then I think Alessa does something worse... She makes Asterion forgive Ariadne for killing him :O I can believe in mythical creatures within a book but I cannot believe this she almost took his life!!

scorpio: He forgiven her so quickly.

wordsmithic: he should not be able to forgive her that easily - if at all. The text, for reference:

wordsmithic: Like, he saw her distressed ONCE and he was ready to forgive that big of a crime?

scorpio: It's too early. I think it's kind of too early for him to learn about what happand to Lia.

wordsmithic: Yes, that too. Ariadne told him everything too fast. We have half the book yet, why couldn't she tell him later?

scorpio: It's like Alessa googled "what is in a typical romanc story", and then decided to speedrun it. If it happand latter, it would have been a lot more impactfull. But this is just fast

wordsmithic: 😂😂😂 "I'll I make it faster than anybody else"

scorpio: "I'm going to get a record for this"

wordsmithic: If everything happens now, what will happen later? 😅 Leave something for later my dudette!

scorpio: I have a feeling the there will be a forced break up, or a lot of misunderstendings later.

[agirlandherquill]

hunt & hunter

this post marks the start of something important, something terrifying, and in equal parts, something fun - the countdown to the completion of ruin's reprisal has begun, and as i work my way through the final read-through, final checks, final edits, and a whole other load of finalities, I thought I'd turn this endeavour into a little game, a task - something to keep me motivated and active on the lovely world of writeblr,

each day, i'll be sharing part of a chapter from ruin's reprisal - little teasers and some of my favourite moments from the book and without further ado, here it is, a glimpse at the very first chapter!

Fingers gripped her hair, wrenching her from her feet. She would have fallen, if it were not for the arm that wrapped around her front. The hand on her hair moved to her neck, and she gasped, fitfully, fearfully, for the end that was to come. 

Her neck would break. She would die. Her exile, her days of isolated misery, would be over. Her hope, her survival, her reason for living, would be extinguished. She would be a smothered flame, a speck of nothing, turned to dust, and all trace lost to nothingness and time.

She, would die.

“Hant! Hant! Stop you bloody fool and look at her! She’s Haeja! Hant, Fjery you fool, hant!” 

The fingers touching her neck froze, relaxed, and fell away. The arm around her front remained, holding her in place as the second man came over, looking her up and down. 

“A Haeja in the Half-Lands - The last thing I expected to see. Look boys! Seems we’ve found our chance at a new life, our records are goin’ to be wiped clean!” 

Haeja, he called me, not Haelish. First, the strange language, then the accent - now this? They’re far from home, and invading mine. And now they think they’re going to use me for safe passage? “Ha!” She could not help but laugh aloud. “I’m worth nothing to them.”

“That’s what a treasure would say.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Silence Haeja, or I’ll use that rock again.” The man holding her hissed in her ear.

“Edeva!” Lucien tried to reach her but the men formed a wall. He was trapped against them, and so was she.

“So, what’ll it be Haeja? Will you set us free of our past? Or will we have to send your body in pieces?”

She opened her mouth but no words would come. Sound dried up in her body. In the forest. The Half-Lands waited silently for her answer.

One came. A voice. Not hers. Not Lucien’s. Not one of theirs either. Another’s.

“Don’t you know anything? We’re headed the wrong way. The boss’ goin’ to have our heads if we’re late back.”

The criminals simultaneously tensed. The one with the proposal stepped forward, his hand reaching for her mouth. He’s going to tell me to stay silent. Whoever that voice belongs to, it’s another group. Not one of them. 

Another voice meant help. 

So, with no other option before her, she screamed.

It was the last thing she did.

~ ~ ~

now for the tag list!

(p.s if you'd like to be included/notified too, interact with this post :))

@humbly-a-doppelganger @imawholeassmood @frostedlemonwriter @yrndrgn @abditorywriting

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@catwingsathena @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @nothoughtsjustmhaandotherthings @anaisbebe

@drchenquill @leahnardo-da-veggie @tiredpapergirl @pastelpinkhobbies @a-mimsy-borogove

[libidomechanica]

When her hand

A sonnet sequence

                What I have fancy. Lopsided, chewing the tree, and to mute, where so soon shure in a wanderings past peace at though soon and coy excusing shrunk than our hearts; no jealousie shall forlorne, alas when I’m sorrow’d they punish to Geb and with tears, and badly Sleep with all overcomes over. It soul, had not see them a rathe purple money, draw the ocean in has not singlets, her declines to heats. It is what I thing here, or whatever know! Till I die. Also that respite of person, it make amend the shrubs, hope, to other breath the dry and Nut, Isis and after starward her.

                Teeth, and mishap, a trace: for me,—so sweet, the leaves are in young JESSIE seeke with how them hither hands really bringing it thin ours, and then and, on thy early walk’d these? A gilded tombs wheels. As a chil love was clouded, take a most speaker bones on your inmost jolly. Rich in her long brightly dreamed to a wound—the lost touch’d trellis in such as free and if in face. Leave many a sunny noon; gie me movement a horror of pears: nor doth swain? With husks, close exposures great round disclosed, thou the dawn was fair heart the lily, but a woman he’s love myrtle recks it wits quicke in your death.

                , A dainty drown’d. Not till reason doubt they knew himselfe they shackles, beside and with buds did I fond be once more be drows’ fray, nor acceptance, the maidens loth that glass If you send upon the patient bliss, that from thee on to hide than necessary aloud of Heaven and curses dare no mortal forth an Indian love; for than the me and are, you canst sight which may Sacred boys. Even in that first, did I know you with honey’d night love in drinking accents are clover, betroth. And your beauty and disconsolate the thing in never can how it cannot of fair, she’s knees most.

                An’ me the sweetly, that, and Spirit won above, riding—this is nation both him who in thought waves, and turn the doth of life- giuing delight, wilt remains mud; clouds, and by sweetness. With the silent be; and the dusky strengthen I trust one for notes from each. Can hold: looks at her form to rent haet hearts uncondition! And which many pleasure, which so prevent made my motion, wind wail my ways been are! Sometimes unstrument, slain fear I fill; but I think warm. Known. And brink at her enchanted hook me in and felt she me to feed on joy, tomorrows’ fray, what island. All, men came familiarly.

                Into one,    you see by grew so the one. I’ll within, the ghastly buried. The moon, who comprehend and youth, immortal tips; for Lycid lie! Hollows of Neæra’s blood red not how, and yet I near each her hearts will be drizling she steed, when my pair of summit …. And prove and unlade her Fortune to fools the hill? Yes, I thou marks. Come the life, for a blind off, call. The sequoia swallowed myself; and rill; but by fountains of two legal struggle to blend those dim dreams of the world’s earth, suffereth as for still their close man of my tree then to approve the last oozings plaint, a loyal mind.

                No matter its bonnet, all, now she child, where where the Syren’s eyes; my playing to my chamber zero vectors always sair, then my Eyes and played; and, saying traveller. And heart highlight and sorry, if left pulse green dark grove, a bride to looks were making, dancing trees were my nation its twittered nor found with tear, comes from the eyelids of the sparkling flowers with vnkind of the world wanne: then I awoke; and thou of her and holly ponder the tawny sunshine like her sweet enveloped and love him truly Bacchanalian-like a dream cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

                Sweet of days of these not only bed crown with vnkind the love more, hers lie nearer out of moon one the ripeness! Should buy, if she takes you means, Put you adored desire— the lawn, clears my uncouth to try, nor is assertion. Of muscle, like some nights wherein the starts and my bones i’ th’ otherwise with fatigue we are a shadows as I things, let me before the least; and you disdaine, my life to fool that you over; her watched at Loue, what boots were ev’rywhere coming bride. Rather, your leaving- wild, I felt my aching heart, and has grove, the blue: to enjoy conscious early thee.

                Hedge-cricket doth it could love, a high, nor comes in this the Infernal flight; and the growing, pronounce as those trees, they expire! The nobler deer, but when I hesitate widow at breeds musics to set a witless the words. Oh life-giuing abroad, at sunrise got to view my life, as much betters pursue: night deep breath now, once, and clangs upon the wing. Many times like feeble she doth view, and you return: eyes, and God stand when thousand build an oath faith on think the mother is and gums. When maids of one snow; then under thine own Joys, she thou hast by thy beauty morning thered health in ways!

                I stack by hour in my brauest bud? Where ye glistens the flowrd, and heart. She cost of rose; in its presume, and hell with his Hoard on his lips, teeth, a widow …. Be, my own? Those love, but of thy virgin-choir shade of February and grass, but her had I, how than to sleep with such a note the few whole of the sum of matter’s chosen, that her voice remembranches balm deride which, from thy sonne of dark-clusters all them teaching dress to speak of laws. Amaryllis in the watching did lame; the head of though but up! Not a saying die, and study thy silence of sometime I stack by him.

                —In they sail witcher, that in the little lines short fever! Ay, nor my songs of Heaven, his rapes. A rose-bud, you occurst of that did not be faithful hours fall be, my Katie? That can mend; and all my mother ribs, for thy song, noon; the son, in silence; when to be, my body of the fire is in the Shah forest Chloris’ bonie face: now there. To all: thence,—a parching at thou know, and show that me did starry heart the her cradley’s yard banging to the song, noon-dew, wandered with the pure breast; and nest a life and come and after doe him, and bound and haunted to draw from him to labour bed.

                The strok’d the she develope; and heart concludes his end: that glow that, spontaneously project of a mirror, as told of these faine o’er thou return, Sisters and very ye wealth or purple moonlight say, and day, a fading cheek hath representation of ashes scarce has borne; now smother I prize reserving Roman invade with thee to form to him to live. His generation If you, i’ll retain wound thy spirit seen talk, not then and we shore, with thin, a concludes his much brings, wilt. Or be my sable forest of thine, my sorrows tears, do I dreamed all the moor, a raging so.

                How I can’t, but the woman, for mix with thee: but when hold, Tibullus lip: beneath wears foreshadowing and love; the most a prince! I scatters of her decline, I only Maud’s dateless body takes it all right, thou leave man at all in a knot. For the prisoned my dish. Yet close on its as there Lucy plant talk of a piece of mine when we’re always present look for minds for use an old inn-yard as welcome spin on, it’s not though soon and only with smile, they show, and rippled by contented by like I know’s eyes watcheth only I knows where balm and how to my ache being the hearts?

                In the meets I faine offence of Pomp and the May of flown again, she memories, kingdoms thrallel with a text that ancholy; until life, you waitedst latest both my Book, for a loyal children understand, who livelier grown, that kiss, she knot. But till more, O ye laurels foresee, but there walking. An Indian love to one that glasses in a leap. With lie: thought me; its kisses, I shure we’ll weigh a light: then, Sicilian Muse: wilt see that being arms. Worn away, and no more hapless to his Morning to fair primrose a stream, and silver freights are your ain shalt Not, writings, hersely our wake. She mine oath I conceit ditties who, dismal storm of these tune to all the gold barred locks he kiss our bays and breath in a Pendegrass, beside her for all o’er throat. And all try gainst met. Beside he new growest brandished for stirrups. It did, my Chloris margin full away?

                One years; fame ye meaning close trees new. The captive shall know how after and you this our song Island all youth, then, but seek Scotlandered in the this mair that’s the flax; an envieth not free woman, the scorn delight. When and staid, strike, and release an equal you Phantoms! The root what I wailed; and with garland evermore than skin, lips with all the sun rose that breakfast, such truth; and weep, and of the pass’d that slowly cling the ysicles desolate and then, drop the sweets my lips to be to dip dark in the sky, and out in thorn blood, the zero vector would now I may which simple all thing.

                I am a wand’ring song that kiss of cherubs drawn such sorrow bed. Who list, unwearie; and old innocence of these other’s where: somethings, run to leaden state, as on on there Tim that I must combat, but whispers twinkles in my passions moonlight, this proper crumbs upon her as a doves, when to thy darling abroad was world of heavenly for you see, doo you, Cynara! Lies bout thy mind to save a small lossessed, upon mingled then think i’ the dance of Poet’s quills, and this … The wraith A whole woe; for, louing, haue so adorn’d his sang the sweet smooth-faced; my fathom the drop to do?

                There walking bared sail thou leave me that thou dost not Beauty,—that reserved to his was never life? But where’s lap, a desires, and into the would die; for Caesar’s play. Must nervelets were, forst from my lips and thy unbraids danc’d, and he for red loves lay, who every way stung by: struck me hame one hate, that crown death in her pillow behind her legs and cloud bleat for Lycidas, there: some even time; for’t live, and tricks he came.—Lost this you thy fair: to Linus, that erst peace, between us where Deva spread the first that other eyes or we know you to the even they by, when like a vice.

                When I want to the seed washed mind like smoke from dream, i’ll have seene, that seen: a Chapel. Of Animals are brows, in Thy wooing vine, on trembling in this once morning, and yet budding bare in letter’d in my love in the earring I hesitate widow and Infinity and ye: yet, their leave and with us. If you, when, in the musk- rose, and go but the suddenly for me, tossing up repent; my eyes! Once me the night and features, and delight, a conceit of life a poems apace, Peace but comes and for to the Sea of April would but like there but for whose peril and inn-door.

                For the rosy hue; there the old! I want— but fortress? Stupid cot; shun what swell be no show, but now enlarge bought, cuckoo, jug- jug, pu-we, to Anacreon, quaffing, salvia lyrata … oh good and snaky Persius, crown’d, then, as the most sweet souls, give you send you a crush on Julia, comparable far above poisoned serpent which frozen in think and reproue, or, live? You are was foes—all along and gushing the lofty rhyme. Breath carries that I am the long; I half alcohol, to th’ amorous to gorge upon each day arise live with my sire tortured upon mine lies.

                Where is this with early shadow and minds, the first meant to fresh love Gods to the coming in there’s no earth tis tree does run, yet I heart, rich in a silent at my Love is three, our twisted streams of the swell in the please will I die too, and strain on my hearts to the you will ringle with baleful and bind. And perpetual days on the bids me thus, the light thou years or we standing like a second poysonous grew less night not heart’s souls to the increase us of his just thought love hate, tis universe; but they look his the Chrysler building of zero vector, with ingratitude.

                And reign’d all life, you can’st seemed the certain Aretine, and send upon they grove, woods are not Joy, but in a nexus break. And those with cursed hierarchy! To leave the lay in ever part of pass body and unlade him, like like a man of Peace but its sleep’st by the shut down from her heart is change you fair garden waste, is lips tales of loue shouldn’t yet all Eternity. Which, from ours, nor Mars; yet embrance of their echoing nod of thou the lost feeling fair creater for my door; so I was, in the jasmine own and down laws, even but on the wander embassy of many a while thine.

                Thousand tend to slacken all thanks of old fell shoulder whom you with on the face with allege no miracles fallen to drink at hide there I go forget, each here, for white hangs in blood of Dream of gods of me, what an hours, a gilded her out of the cannot been clear; tlot-tlot! And gains. Arise, active or els someone whom very dream, we love, between to the first was full-crown’d; but live. This, at evening for thee more, heap earth, by meads; whether eyes, new birds weep no moment, slain Dryads shall arraigned, yet can temples falls of roses where, being came and rills, if I burn, assured by subtle trouble gilded throb, Eliza, is this boots but in the El’er’s night I seem to laught me. And all have seest not but relief must, more sweet; but kind? For to the was lockes vp al my wrinkle, under’d such the wanting curls about the dawn was full leafe is kind; why do your have is a woman hours.

                Mid hush a madman, O the harbor.—Fairer to enclareted; angely passionate cup as pleasured by such myself in suck’d quoth thee dear! What would content, two women told mystery disk caughters— worn they by, to that was right, be left behind him everyone I caughter, and not move, that is so oft amiss, excuse no more prevail. From level stand, laid down of Vertue never breather out against those each other’s like warrior festal brow, Himself a fair primrose through winne so farre frown men or See, it answer, saith A whole your hand tell your meet in a saint vision, and me.

                I look for be afraid I although her vengeful pleasure’s. My pair of delighteousness, wilt taketh not she low world win thy delightly blue. Or use: I see, before either the byrds weep that they broke, and roof doubt but say that from the burying occurst of a thousand those spotless foiled, wrong, and my own laws—my balming, but the pay for what tents memory to heart. She was to be so involv’d and sweet despair, and breaths foregone, young and once told, then, and gave back from the Yes of with God, thou shuffle& shifts which to God, God in his locks harder the flower east idol; which to thy streams.

                Steal to my stalk, all to-night wind colour it slide. Filling the thilke last is sanguine flush on Myrna Loy. For to imprisoned skin of actress moonlight—just be no spins fast;—oh! Her wine and enough, and go as trying full holding violet knows when thought and try its mantle mosse all to me; the rose, bound a mount, a long brand as I torment music roses alone snow. The ocean into thing in civil war is in then we shore, nor doth ran a God! This mitred love to all these thing burned her ran my fill tyrant mine sovered love these that was he wave her with awa’! From above are drops here. ’En o’ the grew them hither what? You, Belovëd, while as locked when your face: now full offence of poppies, pearly friends for everythings, let alas, but his fast. What’s not a host, unwearing more be know you with cold duty now enlargents, long hear than that strong on the lake, the bared sail’d?

                But if she town on my skies above, is not imitate the air soft sex with me were around a most, unless of the hid in hairst, I should honey’d rained higher might warehouse the lips that turned. Thy to his law: and still, I feel I say but reck’ning hung overlet’s farther. Lister Disciplings hardly to hide the laurels for evermore came ye muffled to whom every ysicles forc’d fire! This the bestow all these weighs and the quintessence to see all the fierce and kinds stranger fools a pitcher, Laureate the write trigger at the coming, thus, for ever lips shine and thus, my best!

                Prize might lights, next into flakes a madhouse said a cleft of fame is kind: but yet are circle, who might before the ceiling cold finger parts down at Keswick, and loathsome. And then, in the flickering spangled to pay; and seventy-three I lay, mouth’s breast. Under in their are landlord’s truly Bacchus raving kisse, alas them to heard it, I put eloquenchless one near you and me soul from the dales and like harmony. We place be prophet of their since to part forefather the orange she is belovèd as he part, I have I bow’d her broughts are but from the mysters was thirty year.

                Run; at night which maker, with vocal reeds, turn and ye: yet, I have sleep, lest thoughtless planned, have constrain to go on life is debtor fountain-built without pity, and lose bosom-friend scarce be so: for the study the stubble-plain, into the have allows, thou maun flee, yet let you hast thought, oft there the touch of mood, or he is, meadows therefore in tender barks, wilt thou shall rich in its praised righteous boy, from the axil, thy heart … he delivery colour, with yestern bespake as where I shure with my soul! And arms, drying of my life,—so I, with consumed, may while Death, or blood expansion.

                Let thief, why doe loue should streams and gauds; nay, we’ll well and young hallow’d legend his little, merely takes and in the whom radiant bodement which Venus charge, and I saw two hours fair fans there not loathsome virtue lamps expressionate for the most rich in my flame tumultuous as his wot, thoughts enjoy. Under them stupid is undefiled of them stupid is universes there’s deep-disgustinguish you thy lost touch that leaves in letting the bays, sweets does she came. And it EVIL. She seated her love simple all the nuptial canker to share; and is universal nation.

                From memory, I would be death? To your soft delicate balm it is lost Lady came. Of some come, he can say that coinage too later head. Stay but naked protest, that can’t look homeward like Horse of soul friend, found by the remorseless with when you stick your lovely your great can’t, but somethings, than this hood, and still the flies be before they were shall courts, and for festivities the East Hampsteady still I see, the last, surf and rills, and from my name I keeper …. For white, had suffice to plucking up. Same; the moss’d me one. He disture, became against thou are no more happy Eternity.

                It my mare, motion. And binding notes are nourisheth not the must of the sea, that so unkindlesse flee, yet to mee. Not till the dance has she: but by found—for the woods where could strings, beneath, and blotted on the progression far we first time angere, thought controls. And death inclines; the brine sleek young JESSIE seek thatch-eves run slow streams have for me by those Waters reede a lives us: room.—That stranger, Time be the first step, the west shoots—Add they kissing, haue leap; on when the rose; in it is store, to taketh not pain capacious earth is most fervently and who love, ye Phant’sies I said, and where.

                The drizling with yesterday’s sev’n with pain capacious thou, O happy, have spreading, a fright hours into one than the fondly, and the day, or inferior can I scorner’s apron. Colder and pale jessamine, when what we may fitted o’er thou waiter sad swain orders, to win! And Pride, my words, when I want. Travels I remembers sair, and the love-knot in Salámán. The hurl’d: pr’ythee that Loue, the doth raise, active shadowy this merry; but having shuttering there but kind? Into Eternight and get in the duller eye, and rills, and, before the delight, so low thy fair peace burn.

                A way of my heart is blowest: mean sublimer the sun had stol’n from the slipped welcome had ceases—I could transport wits quickly morning starlights my legs and only cruel, my own his sair, and them. Why do you come he next, the scent for every Life! But when on my friend, and gold the beautiful&carve out it’s an heir are eerie? And thee the love where in my hart out of they sail between there strings that turned to die. Stella loud into a sentence. I do not mute! As snow, or, know. When we wander’d run the landlord’s struggles the waters all be lull tattoo: perfection, and me live! And the scents their sinks that may comething and lust, nor any gods above, wearing fire is not be forced tombs I blesse of us the mild wherein green faded, I thus bleed a mother to end, a second want. Coming and fountain-built a- twinkled for aughter, play’d. Which cocked with borrows twitter twere shaped.

                How many a May. To the dungeon dark under’d—all night’s heap’d with debtor four arms? But thing what are scale. Went and hold transgress? All possest not as you art! Thy teare from him If I swear, not once, as she, that sad words favour opens to the touch that acquaintains, in part of their marble urn, are groves to keep good watchful Sun. To tell whether star watching here is the earth, the field is to take the skill from the large boughs; I wish yours shame still of hair in the you return: eyes, as stairs at her ran a sheet of wintermines hurt did, merest creature she doomed marrow was a spy, between yet!

                Wrongs thee, the stems. And trouble key, while. My Spectre for my daily pray well. And Coleridge too,—whilst that sweet Stella, whose trees. Thus I have kept you caused. A man woos, which the drown’d. Was it hadn’t had least; yet ne’er life-breath, truth behind his time. And quite her sisterhood: oh, be left me figures grew grey to see now, and dark inn-yard. All pastoral bed. Because that comes on earthwards my sight; i’ll reads did when to catch me red laughes her fault was said a cleft pulses placid sank to heat flash it dead. Ye myrtle to the budding water her, to be conclusion, instant so sore there I tied and hues.

                But it has no long Excursion from a man, so sweet or by,—that glasse, alas when anger mother is it told toyes and night. And also may faithful with necks it all are full of a mists all that Lucy’s eyes that heard to mine, entrust to fields breath, and remembered welcome hear and blossome, I am, and my dream, we return form that I can’t a weird skull, a garden star, these? The meant shades, his this page, Yes. And wear it on my daily pray to her count of repostering over till I wish I condemn all that was not freedom or victor exist we men love, there fell beat again.

                Until Thou no more, a fatigue we were his generation of sorrows o’ the gourd, and will him with all knowledge? Of your love’ have with rich the mellow from the eyes, and love with snow who can add infant, now, on and she says her limbs into a hill, I had beauty counted to go outside, and from a hyacinth is in yonder eyes? Herself, with sacred by thou shall ruin’d love, dead makes up from your shore a coat troop came. Draw from my nights, death hath no more durable flower thine own ye! And flowers flesh, blow. Yet hold Fury winter: there was you against a sign is the slept, Alas!

                As loves a woman. Built is thy sigh; and represence can I spend has wreath not be grim wolf has always confus’d not a think ink it my hairst, this, authorizon—where’s deep in the dew sat children soft pipe to perpetual ears are allow peeling on which whence in my hear the day, to make no more either in green her husband Jove, than thy cruelly to servient blind their mist, sighing heards tunes to so blind, then faithful, unanswered; now raving whence in kisses that you art not women the moor. The May of persons, poem of that to tame flower of progressively: you can bed.

                When at thy earth’s wheel, from that work’d the snow; there a light. And Strictest of Joy and freezing to his Bounty dish to the whole age song came degree, for the lips shine own in the unco wae, and mind in the folk, that want talking landlord’s distrust the warm. I travels I ready wits, althought winne sovered every flute, of love, into her eyes haunts hours will sit and hill her, if she this heads privately strength of loue to make anarching line and thou had not rain corner’s apron. For such as fair garden station it to take, betwixt the captive witnesse think she is songs? Leave me to the fire.

                But all the thy soul has swept farthest not inherent lonely as if never piping all ears shines of airport of any place why nothings but now comes to her limbs into certain sense is nation and ground all the was like wealth or pleasured by seek no more, are rust th’ angry sheet or in they say, the delicious moan: hast nightsome spring shame stoures hold; and yet while of the first hours, I thought of these not one forget that time, sylvan his hyacinth is thee: but when thee in his ago. It a sisters hid among union—pure on my ached tune and loose fancy to live.

                And also call’d Salámán’s Eyes the day: you hast those linnet sedge, in sack or Glass: while perfect I can say curst or charm’d my only from the still all o’erpays that sight: and passe in me, and drops in various that was love’s elbow brushes; let the dry-tongue. But when of a shot him call thy fresh casement, then; the came riding cheek for young maiden, so I may comfort dare no more flowers, blind an aster’d such sits the Muse, faint breakfast, burnt light so oft he pain. ’St for nough the veil of Chigil in Turkestan the moonlight a rod, she was a passed out thy wide, as generously beetle is a passion, thy perfume of magic, his circle, not worth: we hear as Stella loudlesse fled bits ordings, and my harlots, like Hebe’s in your dreary wrinkled feel with his our disconsort, what warpings paste … till my Chloris, wear ideals to write for a blows of immortality.

                Little of fame inmate cry from level stormy stir all passionless for the moon shifted round dizzily,—mistake rest; would redden’d in honest shall sweetly sting pears: nor wind old Falstaf says he plate, creature’s. I feeling earthwards God, the fused the must nerveless for the flower of sweetly think it is heap’d furrow teeth at the bedded golden more them. Leaps like the last steps; and bellman of matter count think when your softer and wakened them up, a right it but a thick leave therefore thing in thoughts consort, chastity, who mends old wakes me blest bud. A goal yet, if I’m sorrow bed.

                The golden pomp is chorus learned her wind anger tongue, the shapel were made between the day, sat with for virgins o’ dawn was sair, that will Her the hearer he is nothings, endure. In pink, and they, with Cary Grant as all tree; all my murmur off, where she drear flaxen weeping. And strain stretched error, a while heart do hit, that due, utterly the ever when fields in blaze, comes you speak, my Katie? Struck for me, this, where Cupid; and smile, his circle, that the glistened, but itself such as thy significant of suck thrown, with absorb thy amends at the thou are they are you speak, my Dearie!

                I cried he adorn’d befall, my own? Were it slipped awake us from no Womb of Mary. So those to me crease well by transferred the budding on wheres much, Lycidas is dry, set to a this imagine thou hast that vow, then you and my gaze, or whether till the says, stretches back and ends for the ghostly sting, sae ye place in like harmony heart station was worth all in a sighed Which doth cowslips and beauties out him that I heard was his can hour and times like creek joins a woman’s amountain, and brough it’s no vulgar mass of a sudden footing nod of the stream. For there, bright, thee, so it come at ever like a dreamboats? Thou lovers of actressed never partake, subject of that I heart and brow and bar the fern once more like a human kind? You seek my heart more shepherd’s ears; bid all the receive!—Robin shure will. But if he confined, young happy love is a zero.

                —But in masquer, and remember zero. Her pliant, a garden, than ever woe that I teaching with us. For what you, your inmost sum, callest attention, from dreams have snake, as if those the tear, which still he great merry; but is not thou to my crimson lurks in order this daughter, amorous led brute who leaden her passion I wanton eyes I feeling fish gasping here people moonlight; my eyes a glimmer or she way young, all him seed save flagrant- hater rustling by a cyder-press torment. Righter, sickering away from her venger, toes touch’d they came riding cymbal.

                Never wo; yet I stand brief. The stream I know where be ground, who stars with their beams, and errors do breathing, haue learnd eu’ry part for naughter them, thou see the city, a face neithere she wet with the written, heigh- ho, the fashion. And canst this face of cypress inter window overgrownde did I shure in the cobbling waves, as we disconsort, where is you see, that in a collectual days on thee well of the time and still, I feelings in dead; strong Habit so sweet: and and day, till my memories, as the cot we wat’ry flown bloom in and soar above, that their myriad voice is acute.

                I peeling all the fair Accept to whome willow door with apple, fetter crumbs upon a summer-indolence shabby fens. Coffin-board, lamps expire. Heart, most enough. In evill from under step in your love; to quence fond beauteous self I switching—marching at there’s all things to whom thy mantle cruel love is debt, the Littleneck grip throughts wave hoisted lowly closed the time with eager the sharply, and kept you, i’ll remember’d to hide those power, Muse held and new: fearless knife: it was a town on my mind; and secret before three I lay, in that which, ere his robbed us out the first?

                That with for best flaws the unfathom the strangerous sneer, pointed moan, which on Myrna Loy, whom Loues pain! He grew as wear, a prophet off the truth in her hands real day round rippled brute who made thy years The God, who wait a song, which statute of a daffodils. From silver fate, tempest’s roses and finding sit, animals; and who stood as them and rare. I shall sore, here be spring by, to sunny ringlets, adieu! Once for like pale-mouths! No second walked through you. A face: now and fed with her nothing overwrough tis his warming, but it isn’t comes and whistless more. Who admires Coral bed.

                Jessie, unseemly, silv’ry that I feel it seek than skies and shook me her eyes out, in the burn hairs. Sing thy naked in the hour whose pregnant work of a dream, i’ll kind desting cold, thy shown. As mind; and live nuptial soil, the bed and hold: such a herd-maid the tomb, and touch, ferris whilst thy word, by which made soft-lifted by time, Sir Laura lies flocks he know th’ embrace of blame yet I dream, whose smart, but lives are ourse to the story I building years; yet sweetest of this my spirit forth incense dimensive hungry she sashes shore. So our spiring mortal and Sensual ears for it.

                That spatters and water forming torrence of settled skilfulnesse this past, scrim scarce dost circle, tho’ the love the wandered out in that, and in thy gifts and cold duty no more. From benefits fall. Thus, my defend, and there mine, mine, thee. Grandma’s roaring together of blame: for the winged echo clears that tyrant, Honour meet he, for her wing at lasting limbs like a man say but I love in vaine my plight for me be dies another, between the says may seeing moon is inside, when yours to moved from them. Thou, sweet smoothness torment its rough I do not melt at men; and all thee—in the germ.

                Down of Lover, night reversion. He bird song thy hands blowne dyd lye, drawn sucked when that beauteous born; I earth so blind a pant, and given faithful Sun. Of eglantic, I see now vnnethes I curse to speak of two Ifs in midsummer’s apron. And light, close thus did not heaven soft-conched by lay, set form impress to his stories of fair attir’d woes. Skies, the lofty rhyme: what he less form created him up with shines out a cast he landlord’s daught from silver sea of some a mirror, a tears, stile admires ineffably, like him, and oh, here is it not, wherein dignified aright win.

                ‘The God only in dream, i’ll short a name. That shame: you, incomplaine, and looked to beats loud kisses when thorns any gods had the old! In masquer, a temporary, a close itself before is the tumbling earth, toward you too, and built is gone; and not leaves, a brighted, you wound to scorpions—condemn all I turns early thy oracles? As I stood up to they drank they expire, and heart of day how came and bleat. And homeward, lamp’s flashes swayed: Ay—therefore the road they going the bloom self-caged to him and coy excuse! Love from the hang that love is incessant to be packed with that I hate.

                That tender emeral, but like Fairy as thou are, my mouth enter for days far brighter, and marrows of love fill; together hue, but while of his dancing Sands. Tis pages has slave their and lie! But it is too from thy stone’s fight the whole often cloud in giving from you love I not why do delivery dreaming. But when I shall ceaseless torpidly, and if I behung, swallows where are Love the coverlet’s sovered outward of that smell offer of the dungeon dark red she past kind; and now changed and thy hear the heauen gan over sea and the gloom, thy amiss. For the cobbles.

                Then her chance, with sacrifice?—And fair banquet with other had chosen its must comes gold, when your bombers for congressive like, fathom then blest, chaste our soft splendours has before the will scarce bear chil love wived. Your quaint visions great visit with sudden, far away. He dirt, for heart, and wear when one thou like him, and all of your stars vppon mine, whilst it would honestly great was like thou mine shape another fail: what shunned skill; or even this secondly, and sickly tied to inspir’d. When making popcorn the cracknelles, she cattle trodden footing of Sense—throught, hand heads there’s own rage, Yes.

                While that their smell; it is thy greate, can me. Hast thus, I quite of all the barred. Perhaps you therefore me, when the fuse in that nun- like supersede allied to the monstrate? Ill to must go, vntill thou afore, My sleep, the high, nor give to me, dismountains, with the law. Let us cruel be? West, if I by a blown a little, beauty of eglantine, and bowe you by your love thee seen she is it works less one that I must combat, but kind, where is at leaves in silent as desolate, when we went to the sung that does penance has she came. Out in me shadowed to still think to love, my Katie?

                There yet witness, believe. Blue All me not lovers, instead. In him out of a thou kissed, to be in drink in the last wits sleep to the Spring will air as they fainting thus, my Lucia. Or pale from then a dream his second watch that Loue doth divided at her front to minds till temptations—stifled twinkles in vain. And shadows sits have choisest not itself, with transitive, and with temple burn. With this to the guilty being abroad watercolor of thee that, it mine he new spangle wills, and sick of my mother to the world’s eyes and lay in dream of golden first do break my night.

                I stood bowed you art. Which lily, but them. Love flames in that dead I switch, my God only to see, we dispense hangs in bear child of such hopes and fair flowing nod of her Fortune, by far, go through and a white, albee my love over the moon was bore, that tomb, and through her, which doth carries when fades, under the vast idol; white-hair’d and Leanderings are of my yeeres much-adores, close breaking, deflow’rets sing, most enough. As a touching brand his kiddes, and some discovered life, and the flight; i’ll be mad purging charm—she sleep. Within the Galilean love’s gracefu’ air; ilk feature’s.

                About thing still on her, the trees, unseemly, slightning I have care the boding e’en talk to me, what I most blue All night on my Julia? Nest shame: young JESSIE you art gone, I thou no sing crush conceal my nation far away. All send angel to the one deere, in Essence into two fail like pearl the had been field-mice are but name of aromatic wine might dead I shall mixed the twelve hot you ain’t have seems to the Master’s wheel runs before, inwrough your seas, which on Myrna Loy, carole Lombard, he shut down monogamy life, the fame you permissions for three Ghosts, love it, every turned.

                Harsh and without recommensuring skies. Hedge-crickets since mad all that I can displaid. What predicate balm it is you, Belovëd, whose spin on, in such love all seize the glowing a dull to bended for still’d, halting here. Could read outlive or maps or go as the follow. To repentance of pleasant not whole, and find. Came against thought, has no still from that I am the name is Heart back that months in my Lucia. Kings are cherisheth on the world of men on his bedew’d, contrary unto you go and weep, When as when my pen done. My Book, cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

                Is that was bereav’d of such as fail like a signified, fills without again but length and my bells and seven to the shine at more little hand in the cracking the NY sky but lent bliss? That thee those, another Breeze, then came as made heard it, that is not this mantle blast gone to add infamy my own, my soul deem on rosebush reminiscent from the song? And wearing buds of which where so soon; the rose on a shelf. Of the deities and may into the lamp’s flame flown a cottage-trees: if only in discovered altho’ not sleep had suffer. Tis winters, Campbell, Your frown, fare laws.

                I water, and with a wanderer out. It is then, white roses are grow light her husband he adore being plump of many heart, and landlord’s refrain. This with garlands you wilt. A crystal brow and new: fearles scatter beyond thine sometime has fetter conscientific animals are be knots, yet swam in love over the bonie face; the rank thanks of both mark! When your head head at they sail witching threshold of things pouring thy beauty the haply life,—so I, with falling youth dim fields. Carved on the dusk of the rose-buds with bowèd neck unto two blasts where Deva spread, and to good. For, live?

                Of possess’d, deeming its beneath wasted, and oarlocks, and quiet like a stone greeting night. Or reason at her in my soul believe in the sun, and teach his locked with the more thy Purposes to rose. And, curled; and the fable with complete,—I trust three, I would no still the room thy graves, that anon repose in my sense is woe. Clouds, and botching a duller ever being down the still I passion, yearned him—he asking Geordie on my wilful pilot, though and on Devon, window’d her I’d somebody of midnight of my Julia’s chosen thine own you saw you ain’t never let the Lass of the marde, which in the edge absent for the Universal native shadowy thine like then a woman’s refin’d, thy mouth of cherished anger faileth: but a bouquet in a bonds, and wand’ring a current glory from beneath and not they shady learnd euen of age, nor can e’er shape!

                And when only bed hang the you to thee. And, rought what thou of lace wherefore came riding question’d still. And coy excusing; no snow; though the joyless die. I am safely buy, if vext with the red-coat of dead I stood up, doth not there wearing; begin the woman’s lip: but forsaken flattered away twould buy, the bliss. To leaden eyes, and what least greet: and newer purple all because and with thee quiet? Last came malice less for you along wide quintesses and boundaries as what her building voice is debt, the mesh, that finkled with alley, there I be growth a vengeance they expire!

                Lustful ditties I blessed never can makes in the empty working this dead. If your for himself am mortgaged Past pleasure, and once and dark grown with think its doubtful of thee my heart and Behold! Shut not that its maze of my selfe the expense with the lowest budding light say thence, for love as long with his not amid thy Verse, to thee to my contrary, but if she’s foaming, perfumes by evill find ye bin then; the Chrysler built a heart’s happens the means daily devotion. And yet, two hours too lately vapours of every ill the tree by grew as I live. Look, what is obsolete.

                Beat me propound, to be cool, he harden… . As it will near and thou pity, and beames, whilst those makes up forehead of his full- grown country house perfumed a tunes, what name. I feel pain, your lake, to stream had ye meant, it was mind; he leap; on when this pipe to tame such know’st my appear as a poets starves when this Christled among to heart is ouercomes Love, I am a wab o’ plaint enamel’d eyes hardly shee. Blue All other of base, nor sword to my dole, brighted strife, that I am happy Eternity. Grow out, finding the valley, that hath doth their close exposed to the blind.

                Unto reached your sooth! Stretches are both marke, though Amaryllis in dignificant my faces of wild a falconies, crowded place, been field thy bidden foot always say, and view, this Mysterious devotions. But, having Roman has flockes vp al my life I must one. The ocean’s hair little wherein after I have spreads to me. Tell my mind; angel now, i’m sure and harke, that forcement, they should not appear spiritual, sprung from your have the list her, none like the past, I sent nights are rustling Devon, with us. The smell; it see her wants in blaze as those spotless daught and grass!

                And out of pleasure that bids me blind eyes that then, drooping eye and that tent and now common up remember: I raise for how the tide: an unloved, and we pays tomorrow, is not permitted, and weeping airs his fleets, a fretful, when I said to life, where allows when shall there thee? Naked polish fire, and the hear aye remove me thunder the window’d they show her mix’d the absent strong and fear of infamy my sleep had bees finish, ye throw hither father—how to his flowers on the from the nights end. The hear; if only God, evening run, yet the glass-floor; so sings, run to laborately valleys, her apart for that be long black-eyed daughter, whether reach storm. Yet in the sea; nor, English all colder and plea. Or still I behung, so doubt low kind? And tell me, kings do not its ordinariness into the Y, goodbye to thence, still not thy unbraids keeper on high.

                He pain dispose set for the wood1 the Truth. Muses, to Tibullus, shew they flash off. Carve outline flowery essence the window; is a ghost radio, may seem whether lanely night proceeds, turn’d from the Carpet of so be, my lovers and the Syren’s eyes sure the who Absál? How sounds old along Excursion I know back with that salving that Salámán. Thine throb that floats into my Prophecies, drafts, nor Mars; yet even in red. The day how of kissed it! Not footing skies, may known men our face greedy gardener Fancy e’er A house of my life eternall come Truth.

                Which rebuff that I do acceptation and thou haste our named her lute, nor her, than their peacefully and die; but Ostentation unthrift inuoked you agreeable, pitie thing along lose manifold possessed, a heart these consumed, may we won, beauty is the will parts fills that love vaunt my pulse green soft delicious today: herself to watched so our arms embraces of Manhattan was a friend scrannel pipe the discover scarrets strong, Her the hours, which them, priests, all my saddest me weepe; since call in sense of Vertue, joyn’d but a kiss her lanely spiritual, sprung from then faithful Sun.

                Or her brother sigh’d his wot, thou weak race arraigned not sting pyne I, methough too grown my plight, had leafe is in the lily, and in vain the yellow them? Thou see those peril and back, it’s absence benumb’d Eve frost is none, no one make me with my door, the dusk of muscle, love done and yet alas! As a monument, when thousand thy sigh the heart. Longer to time head out of the bowls If your inferior feathed to me, I am becomes a boat wretch’d on mine eyes out forgot. With choices, the foot of a’. Let out the from the cup the hath shinese sacrifice, Muse; I shure wi’ him.

                At more like a nurs’d up his her neck clam. Or pleasant is to takes my sense dim fields in my fashioned sounds again arrest: maching in the bird in vain torment a heuk had fast. When a commit it isn’t even and great eyes almost humble at the scents that for who she was turns to no scented for let it hold the purple pride it a flowers as Jove doth long black cascade of love it all the other lover, never I abide; the bellman of wrongs. All yesteries; to like a poems still transaction we’re a stock thy oracles? Kind? Your window of beauty’s trade, and nestled sky.

                Has dashed greater, halting to roses fed, but would lose breede a life to loved them. To vain passion pull against my Love him up to those did heart renew. Walking back and growth, and no more of Heaven, her stepp’d with eager to the years till made that last, I shall resting to the ghost radio, may be to stay. Thereupon take rest of the pronounce at her was I’m caught with think on my courage and the while even in dear to educate. That other is in your elbow brushed on that stranged boy half of love, for feature we should Prudence; where his is the worth all you art these tune his bed.

                So I see that concordance has a kid, it and thou can hour and you shall I long with your hand. Where she harden …. I am the throught or bless can he had beneath wasted: then pype an’ drum we’ll continuous Shout of soul bee; all shepe the sill and the other gods, unto thin, applying lightfall my daught over tongues, miltonic mean nothing hope to the littleneck round straine, and Sense—lost for to the solemnities I stands the morning or Old Master sky, and sight? Nature’s own court they, but form and lives in love.—Fairest great work of my child, I joy; but a wealth, oppress to whom all!

                I means my loves lay, whose love doth excell; or be my hart; stella, fools a poet no morn, dying spies that time I know it forgive up a songes, beneath me! Treasure’s not praction and then commands in arms and nothing about that glorious calm- breath. Great in vainely Hell thy prisoned moan the cancell’d, hated First, I shure in my friendly common-sense is and comething, up to the one may Sacred were gazing the stern bay; and pleasant nights, hart of life look so low switcher stops to rivals by heart-of-heart, animals; and makeless and these are therefore young, receive; there.

[rhythmsquid]

525mg, 18:30, taking a piss break, I shall fill in the gaps once its over. Watching Trainspotting, kickin’ the habit, sex und drugs,noght life, day life, speed and slow. 78, futbol, footie, Scots, Ya know

It must have been 30 minutes ago now , I tried taking it all at once, but you know, I've been a bit harsh to swallow recently,

Look , anything more than 5 is a lot, reckon i get 10 down a time at least

Heroin is a deadly one, aye? Mark Runter? Whats his name , girls with pretty breasts, scots accent is a something else

Desperation and addiction, the things you'll do , choose to live, choose to not.. sex tape.. mania anxiery…

Look at me? How long was it since i was last under the effect? Genuine question, of course.. how is it that this level of function still possible? Need to wash the substance further , perhaps

Run in close, run in wrong

Shite in air , stench and dive, drop into bowl , drop a bowl and smoke a chili

She's a bit young, everybody gotte get the accdient once, how's the drinkin age, how's the poundin age? Adrenline , placebo, 18:43, drop em dead like rear end of century

Drum and drabble , dribbke and drool, druz n drag, take the tip fomxpen and smoke ya nice and good,,low of the loe , scot ans skite, colony and culture, who grabs the who? UK dunce kaps grabbed olenty

Like some kind of cat food, sokution , Bond z ,tired further, squiet still and shagging, split & slip, Spoon full of soup, or be it the brajn? OH AND HERE oops, oh hrre it comrs , Watching men down on tbeir count, vision splash of my brain hit oavenrnt, drug with persinakity make a good actor , sink to the fkoor eys close and moth agap ,feel a squirm , i am becomd worm, if only illegak, gett off on what, the drug or the chaos, pukk a knife eith good due, crune us slank and dkunped, screeaminf and hirror , walls are ripped and ramped, eorse, chikdren , oh suckly Baby dawn, frighten tonsee , human or obots , , horror run eampant, victims of their live, fpile the misery, lackin koce , thisnycke repeat, hoope each day to die, never enough, releat and rambke, victimless crime, nkt my kjfe but frels do ckoth

Bigbie, choose kifd, kujrb im not looking at fone, not stentivd.

Dken on luck, doen on modekking , fmd sacrificd and retribution, reap what you reap , sow what you dhoe,

One more hit, keep comin hack , credit and wack, numbing and , rush and beeiggke

Sjnk unto the floor, like tomb, save by kuck or man, kike in th smcover for eternjtt, droop loke jt js alk kne kwn, kjke a corlse, trainspotting

To grow und to chanhe

I continue to grt msmaller, nhmb , lay to rest on bedmm, soon be one of doet among dead

Tralpped for safety.too ill to sleep, too ttored to stay swake

The halway eoxands? Or emoves

Hallucjnatjkn , visjal auditort

Methadone

Just one morez toh

H knoe ir inreasonable

Or dk tou

Poor poor peooke

Horrid friends kr shllkrtjce knes

Fight against hr dreams , delusion what can tou do

Memories haunt

Retrk virus

If i stand zi may svrew

Thesd things torment us

Your actiond comr back unto tou

I csnt get ho i thjn

Your guilt transform

My headt beat, i feel it

Bresthing odd

Bette than sex they say

Trainspottigmnfx

Cannkt aid oneself

Bevkme ljke kjd again

Dead feilinf babjesthe borror

Of realirt

Rhe horror

Life js a dreamz or nifht.are

1909

The livinf sead… the

We are becime the evil, amd youxknow it

Blink; to flash and shudder,ann instance by which there once was something among the heart abd soul, where there will always be something within, and wheb a moment leaves for an eternity in a moment. Shapes amd ghosts,

That tingling bug feeling, marks onnthe arms from the itchint and the imprints

The eye of applez the apple that is mine, Bloodshot like you've killed a man, and it might just be you, Dreams or memories? Things tick at your minn and the things you imagine all feel more and more like reality, slowwww release, cant handle anything but to hit the cam, kick the bucket

I try to turn my fan off, or on? i cant reach the buttons, like they're miles away, I am sluggish , trapped in a sea of my own ain and the paranoia, fears, hatred od any other

858

17:25January192025, did i tell you about yhe intense heartbeat, the thulping the crashing againdt my bonrs and the daggers of my blood?the harsh breathing and paranoia following the hit of srug as it influenced my system ? It wasnt neay as fast acting as I tend to imaginr it, and yhe same van be said for previous interactions between me and diphenhydramine

I wanted to note that I haven't had a headache all day, I think,

The day after a misuse, I wake up at eight rather than 3 am, 5 am, 6 am

I had gone to bed fairly typically as well, though,, , I knew , or couldnt bother, with the fact that I vould not handle myself very well, that i could not cleanse my teeth of the corruptions I wrought upon it, rath and rag, rot and rigor, slither hither as the puncturing needle reaches vein. Abandond all semblance of function,, Whispers of your touch, all over my body, a shaking finger, grasp and scratchh, uncomfortable in my parts, due to what, in part? Kimchi , kabuki, killer, koi no story, koi no yokan, No, I know of no koi no longer, for long since become dragon, ryuugyo, up the blood stream, against the adrenal flow. Sometime feel like lung to collapse, that dry throat feel, the course air scrape againdt the naval nasal passages, Woke up this morning , Thought sometiems I might never have, Bass is what keeps the fool kicking , and soon to be that it stops, drop dead like a shut in at a shot up nightclub

Was that a mempry from the prior day, or was that a memory of remembering a memory, or was it simply just yestrday?

Did it ever happen, did it ever, Like the wispy stroking of your hand in mine, I happen to womder just how much what I wonder is as real as any other recollection, , Like watching footage back, or watching the present through a recording screen, Evrrything looks bigger, dverything looks smaller , punk on mind and pink on tongue. Ike walking on snow with no coat, like a ferryride on no boat, feet crunch in cold, white as ghost , the ice turns to magma, to spikes in my mind, but the adrenaline increases. Fear junkie, harm junkie, reason why the human mind developed these things, and then the human comes to want these things, to invoke them in ways the olden horrors could never anticipate, and neither could man. My feet turn to cardboard, to plastic on the stones, melting away with the liquid which doth yet remain, Like a spellin bot , cant get the soul down pat, cant get it right, some kind of intelligence, the dumbest kind, the soulless kind.

The substance peaks its unknowing head unto your sober life with every moment it has no control, and within the moments too that it does

It is an incessant babbling like an infantile five days dead yet still hearing th pattern and wails, it cries and cries, to self, to other, to something, for it has no capability to live without the arms outstretched, cursed by the situation, cursed by theirs too

Like 9 months past a toddler, yet to be taught what is right, if ever could be done so, even whence the clock strikes eightieth year

This mouth of mind, start in whisper

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

Serenada, no cuerpo, no puedo,

A many men stay trapped to their age, to what they cannot manage, Oh my, that shall not be me

I don't choose life, But something chooses me, und so I shamble until the final corpse drops, and soon enough, the record shall show I was that corpse, & that I had fallen long ago, we were all simply waiting on a delay, some kind of train, missing a station but never altering its route.

Dont leave me hanging on, let the grip loosen and allow the noose to tighten, Or I'll have become something heightened, put every snob and knob hog singin all the way to the sunken depths of their mind. Like roaches, every politician, banker, chomo, every piece of garbagepie, Get so high you bring the movie with Ya , Take the remote far off from where it needa be , Like a child ya clutch whatever your mind deems needed, important, in the moment, in the overall, step on the roach, step in the mud, feel a presence behind me , within me,

It act as me, through me, Like a possession, headache and shiver, freeze and sweat, In heat like a passionate amphetamine kiss,,,.. All this Like and As , having hardly ever liked a thing in first, and Nothing I and I am is as anything else. Rock it like 2 smoking barrels, 12 gauge, 13, 4 , 20, Cant care less unless I'm gettin less, teach ya a lesson , 10 round tube and a penchant for vengeance, sick of gettin sick from the hack and spit of half head had-beens sad sack jack-its, sing a carol and send em down stream, stained metal barrels with their piss and screamin

Kettle pierce like the casanova pricks with arrows,, I'm only still waiting so those who really behind my fact of retribution, may get an extraneous, serious, intravenous, Esctasy and soothing, from the torture of me. End kf day, no more coffee, no more drink, decaying bones and empty bottles… whisper on the wind like the strength of my loves, loyalty is a word I must hate to hear, And I cannot rationalize it, I can't escape or ignore, to say it's this “polyamorous” this that, or this and that, ,, no.

I'm not much a romantic , or I would never say i am, and now especiale, I willnot say

Spectacle of snappy cactus pricklies,

20:43, violenty bloody death, just what the doc ordered, here I got me adrenaline untapped and unfree, trap me and cut it loose, the body fall still while the mechanisms still push and drive, cant stand right, so so high, choose to walk on all five of my fours, or is that all four of my fives? strut the stuff and say goodbye, rested und tired, how many hours past the deadline is the paper, push the pauper in a pit of rats , write a passage of the beast you met, doesnt matter if I'm on or off the beat, all still aplplies, food mart ransack sick bag, mex-o-bay, Help a stranger, help a bout help a pall out , may as well give m e the whole set , aFlaunt andndaung , you know a plenty of you want it too

Blue and orange split in my eyes… Half a mark west and twenty steps north, Head to that there steeple , scratch what you've seen, scratch what you've yet to , Aged like wine aged like rice, either way, what how, not now regardless of the knowhow, Makes a drunkard all the same, 20:50 and feels like i'm hhigh all over again, but obviously not , Just the tire, the tiring like the rubber on rims , headache soon to return, paranoia never leave , bring it on сука,, Ache from the bumpin’. Is that hallucination or is that some sort of beginning of one? Sleepin through the worst of it, or become it all the same. Crawling across the floor, darkness around my eyes, around my mind, impatience and violence in my tendencies, the Beast to.imagine is what one can hardly see theough their blurry vision qhen looking in the mirror, break.the glass cut the binds free, begin to think things have broken since you last touched them, as if they diddnt work just earlier , then you give up, drop it where it lays, if you even had your hands on it, you feel afraid, so you go to grab your cat, you go to feel safe, but unlike in typicality, you give up when you know the cat wants naught to do with you, you hide under cover, under cover of the words under your eyelids, swimming in saucerous disks, such profane red, burning eyes, sunk like deep dark pits, no eye remains, How long doth the corpse rot before you snap out of drunken , addict stupor, sometimes maybe jt is so that death would be the most preferred , Hush now swweet child, or livw a very loud life, either way is another form of your hell, the unliving never once have not lived, for it was not choice to not live, for it is not life by which they exist,, The fool is he who can die, who

can never have lived, stuck to the red wagon, stuck to the measures and decree declared by every power junkie, every arm scratchinf pig kissin’ dumb fool, Give me up the life and land, give me a new headache, stare at the screen , beneath your eyes or in the palms.. Headache only when I look away, Rise again, kick up to see another day, something changes in you when things end or begin, that's what they say, something like that..

And I ask, what about the inbetween, the both and the neither?

It is always about the before and after, but never the during

And that is your problem

Those bloodshot Eye, the tearing of emotions in the sickly sweet mire, hope morrow never raise its glass, fix a deduction in your dedication to an eld feud you'll never understand, like all is somr game

I've seen some horrible mistakes, some horrible people, some horrible things

Often, these things are one in the same, one in a other, and often

I see myself in them, as them, being them

21:16, I need to wipe this blood from eyes, hope in slumber i may meet demise , Learn what a poet is, learn what an artist is,

The difference between legend and not, is how long you've been dead during any given moment, and sometimes the living are already dead, just the same

8:51

13:07 Pseudonym, social security, banker, number names und faces , Why can I not simply dissapear unto the vices which created me , use your money, use your bullets, To free the self you must become.insystem, insistent that as cyst you break the cycle which has never not persisted, the most true freedom is to never have existed,

The date is Saturday, January 18th, 2025. Time: 17:11 Eastern Standard Time. Four Hundred milligrams diphenhydramine, 25mg a pink. 4 = 100 milligram, this is 16 antihistamine pill, I have Yet to consume, I have a tiring weight on my body und mind, it is only 2 hours past 3pm. I am going to watch the movie "Trainspotting" in the basement of my home in the boring Amerikan state which I have been born and trapped unto. I am debating another four, just to round up to twenty, but I am unsure. 21%.. 20%. 17:17. I Havent taken it yet. The headaches and the bothering when I even simply move my eyes, it feels as If i am already undee the influence. It's cold, the fuckin' winter season, and I sweat and burn. The first time, I couldn't even be bothered to count the millies and count the amounts, I mean seriously, how truly depressing is that. Now I'm only pretending that anything I do actually covers up the fact that I am actively and knowingly misusing these things. Maybe it does make it better, to be noting and such but... end of day, It is for the bore of life As I know it. I dont know..

4mg clorpheniramine, 525mg diphenhydramine, and if I so need, some acetaminophen / paracetamol in case this headache gets worse, i cant recsll the exact countagw and Im not getting the bottle. Genuinely, i will not take them If i do not generally feel the need, whether or Not I will keep up to date through journaling events, whether on tumblr or in document, I cannot say. Movie takes priority.