#no tags.... the insanity cannot escape containment

[quadrantadvisor]

tags from @murderandjam

1. You're right, that IS a hate crime

2. This is the funniest way possible to salvage this situation

Joker has had enough death/near death experiences that he ABSOLUTELY falls under Danny's jurisdiction, and once he realizes that, he and his royal court (friends) go on a research binge for every legal precedent in ghost court.

Danny could also just. Kill the guy. But it's not his place. As in it LITERALLY isn't his place; Joker is ectocontaminated enough that he would definitely become a ghost, which nobody wants to deal with. It could only be prevented by the finality of a Revenant's Retribution, meaning he has to be killed either by Jason or by Jason's chosen champion (Bruce). Bruce has clearly dropped the ball, so Danny is taking matters into his own hands.

Joker's lawyer tries for an insanity plea, of course, but honestly, his psyche is pretty typical for ghosts. Then it's, since he isn't a full ghost, he doesn't have an innate sense of ghostly social customs. The opposition gets to shoot that down, too, as the act was clearly done with malicious intent to cause the victim to relive traumatic parts of his own death and resurrection, which NOBODY is cool with.

Being the Revenant's murderer and the focus of his revenge also immediately sours Joker's reputation and makes the whole thing even more distasteful to the jury.

Jason, meanwhile, has a great showing in court. He has to testify, and being in the same room as his target sends him into a murderous rage several times. Yeah, that'd be a knock on his credibility in human court, but everyone in the Ghost Zone is really excited about a real Revenant making his way there, and very approving of his passion and drive for vengeance.

So yeah, Joker owes Jason an enormous sum of funds in reparations, but also I think it'd be funny if he had a magical restraining order, one with enough distance that he literally can't live in Gotham anymore. Jason can get closer to Joker, of course, in case he decides to go kill him (otherwise it would be a violation of undead rights), but Joker physically cannot cross the boundary.

The Ghost King cooperates with the state of New Jersey to have a new containment facility built in a remote location, so that when Joker inevitably escapes there's less danger to civilian lives. Jersey becomes the first state in the union to renounce the Anti-Ecto Acts and acts as sort of a safe haven for citizens of the Infinite Realms.

Bruce is deeply baffled by all of these developments.

Thinking about DP x DC Jason Todd being a revenant again. Here's my scenario. Jason gets called that by some ghost. He's like "what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He's heard the term before but he doesn't know any actual lore. He googles it. He scrolls past the Leonardo DiCaprio bear movie. He opens the wiki. Sees the words "animated corpse" and gets a chill diwn his spine. He starts reading the first section.

He closes Wikipedia.

That night he has a nightmare that his family buried him, again, this time with precautions. He wakes up in his own grave, full of stones, too heavy to move, to scream.

[milolovesbmc]

(remembers I'm trans) I'm like if a dog was a boy like if a dog was a boy like if a dog was a boy like if a dog was a boy like if a dog was a boy life if a dog was a boy like if a d

[carpettmuncher]

fic recs

aka, i read too much fic and need to share my favorites

gorging myself on you, still can't get enough (insatiable) - sobsicles

i love this so much. casual confessions from dean. insanely horny and conflicted cas. grocery store confessions <3

rating: M

how we're stuck in entropy - shineforthee

unfinished as of now, but worth it imo. sam makes a deal for cas' life and dean has to grapple with grief and mourning. amazing commentary on grief and dean's mindset, and great destiel

rating: E

don't stop, don't slow - hedderstheowl

trans cas and cas being so surprised by how good sex is with someone he loves

rating: E

love's such an old fashioned word. - hedderstheowl

same author as above bc i cant get enough of their fics. i LOVED this concept and characterization of cas. cas gets revived but doesnt believe hes out of the empty, and treats the world around him accordingly.

rating: E

ignite your bones - ilovehowyouletmefall

such powerful storytelling and writing. loved this front to cover. dean kills sam to get the world back- the remaining of tfw 2.0 grapple with the after effects. dean deals with grief, homophobia, and cas' confession.

rating: E

this whole trilogy but namely sam winchester, ally at law - alittleduck, amidsizedfrog

sam wants to be an ally soooo bad but dean refuses to be an acceptable queer. love this characterization so much

rating: T

the cheapest room in the house - biggaybenny

dean downloads grindr for cas to meet guys and gets jealous when cas talks to guys. angst with a happy ending

rating: E

psalm 40:2 - unicornpoe

cas time travels to meet dean pre-hell. pre and early seasons dean my beloved <3

rating: E

benedictions - kalmialatifolia

priest cas and writer dean. unfinished but i think about this fic at least 3x a week. if you enjoy fleabag, youll enjoy this fic. if you enjoy priest porn, youll enjoy this fic. cannot recommend this enough

rating: E

everyone knows the year doesnt stop until april- fleeceframe

first of all, go check out this author right now i love ALL their fics, but this one stuck with me. early seasons destiel. cas has so much love he doesnt know what to do with it. case fic

rating: M

gold in the edges of our vision - sewingnatural

i fucking love this so much. absolutely amazing religious imagery and symbolism. dean and cas share peaches on a roadtrip and are in love about it. fic that convinced me to go on a roadtrip this summer

rating: T

juxtaposition - rhinestoneangels

this fic is short and amazing. interesting prose, dean in hell, religious imagery. mwah love it

rating: G

where the heart is - goldenraeofsun

claire fic of all time if i do say so myself. claire time travels to s7 and hunts with dean before making her way home. i adore this one so much

rating: M

here, bullet, here - a_good_soldier

dean and his relationship with violence. contains pre series dean and post-canon destiel. named from a poem, this one hits you right in the heart

rating: T

use cinderblocks to build a stairway - pollutedstar

dean, sex work, ptsd, and self worth. heed the tags!! heavy fic but thoroughly enjoyable

rating: M

the soul burns brighter than the sun - wow_thisiswheremylifeis

post-canon fix it. cas escapes the empty and effectively breaks it, while telling everyone but dean that hes alive. they grapple with their relationship and fixing the empty. love it!!!

rating: E

let's take a drive - sobsicles

another sobsicles fic because theyre all 10s. jack reverts to baby age, cas is protective, dean and cas have a complicated relationship. amazing fic with amazing feels. best tag ever: maybe we're all a little scared and that's okay

rating: E

the eye is a mouth. - zeke21

dean, sex work, god, a study on the relationship between all three. fucking amazing fic, really nailed chuck's presence in this. go check out this authors other works too, they're all mind blowing

rating: E

asterism of an f-series ford pick up - disabled_dean

altered my brain chemistry a little bit i think. cas and dean go on a roadtrip and dean is exceptionally horny about it. dean is not normal about love and thats okay

rating: M

maybe i like pleasure pain - tothewillofthepeople

another one that wrecked me entirely. one of the best cas centric fics out there, this fic focuses on cas' recovery post-empty. lovely dialogue and imagery, just amazing all around

rating: M

wyoming, january 1996 - luulapants

THEE dean 17th birthday case. fucking amazing storytelling, takes johns journal entry and runs with it.

rating: T

between sex and death and trying to keep the kitchen clean - ftmsteverogers

jupernatural, kid jack, post-canon fix it with empty confession misunderstanding <3 love it so much, this author is so talented :)

rating: E

[pookietsunoda]

Saw this post abt Alonso getting accidentally electrocuted and thinking he was 14 (as well as this tag on a reblog)

what if... the whole grid accidentally got struck by some deus ex machina non fatal zap that gave them temporary amnesia and they all became convinced they were 14 for a day? Here is what I think would happen:

First off, they're all so hyped about being F1 drivers and get excited about the dumbest shit (phone games, wheel guns, tire blankets)

Max and Charles fight each other over the Inchident

George is starstruck by the fact that Alex is an F1 racer (bc Alex was his karting hero growing up) but Alex didn't become friends with George until he was 15, so he has no idea who George is, which is Humiliating to fragile teenage George.

Half of them can't speak English fluently yet. Only the younger ones (Oscar, Franco, etc) know that google translate exists and they help massively in the linguistic problems.

Unclear whether or not Pierre and Esteban are besties or enemies, or both. They are one of those things, and they're insane about it because they're teenagers. Lance and Esteban are probably like Normal friends though.

Lewis is like "where tf is Nico" and finds adult Nico. Lewis is super pumped to hear that they both made it to F1, were teammates and won WDCs, Lewis is an F1 GOAT, and that Nico married his childhood crush. (Their life trajectories literally sound like what a kid imagines their future to be like.) And Nico is like "hey we actually had a falling out" and Lewis is like "that's crazy man, how would we stop being friends? You want some frosties?"

Immediate Spanish speaker clique between Fernando, Carlos, Checo, and Franco. They are shook that THE Fernando Alonso wants to be besties with them (especially Carlos since Fernando is his hero).

KMag and Hulk are probably friends since this is pre Suck My Balls and they're friends now so, their energies align I guess.

Being 14 year olds who find out they're rich and famous, they all want to escape into the real world and take joyrides in the expensive cars they own/ drink alcohol/ see strippers/ buy crazy stuff and their team staff is like OH NO WE CAN'T LET THEM ESCAPE (Thus ensues comedy gold of the team staff chasing kids who have the bodies of professional athletes around the track and trying to contain them)

If in Singapore, Yuki and Zhou manage to escape because they are 2 East Asians wearing designer and F1 merch and they blend in with the fans. (As a disguise, they swap team shirts and put on surgical masks and people are like "Is that Zhou Guanyu?" "Nah why would Zhou be wearing a Yuki shirt?") Word gets out in the drivers whatsapp that they escaped and they immediately get bombarded with requests for what to buy for the rest of the paddock. They cannot rly understand each other but Zhou can get around Sgp pretty easily bc a lot of people there speak Mandarin. He has to stop Yuki from breaking at least five Singaporean laws. They stuff themselves at hawker stands and have a great field trip but then get recognized and have to make an emergency getaway on a stolen electric scooter. They do get Lewis his Frosties.

Lewis doesn't know he's a vegan and almost ruins his reputation by being spotted by paparazzi eating Frosties with non vegan milk. Also gives himself a nasty stomachache.

Despite being told not to tell other people about the mass amnesia, Max and Lance both call their dads. Lawrence is like "My poor son! I will get the experts to look into this right away!" Jos is like "idc if you don't remember how to drive the car, you're gonna do it or I'll disown you." Daniel and Lando grab the phone and tell Jos he's a meanie and also was a shit F1 driver, then hang up.

George finds chewing gum at the bottom of someone's bag and starts spiraling, convinced that the Singaporean police are going to arrest and execute them all for possessing illegal items.

Lord of the Flies scenario where George and Oscar are trying to organize everyone to make sure they don't accidentally hurt themselves, whereas Lando, Fernando, KMag, Daniel, and a few others are just trying to have a good time and cause chaos. Bottas and Alex and a third group are just like quietly messing around in the back.

They come to a truce in order to organize a GPDA strike because they have been banned from leaving the track until they regain their memories. They barricade themselves in someone's garage and have a sleepover on the floor with lots of candy and games. Lewis finds a guitar and plays Wonderwall.

They wake up the next day extremely confused (but remembering everything) and race as normal LOL

[kaleidoskuls]

thanks for the tag :P i will take any and every opportunity presented to me to talk about music i like

top tier shit. about a colony of ants under your skin and worms in your brains. ear candy fr. also the music video is fucking amazing

brings to mind a woman who belongs in a mental hospital or has recently escaped one. most lyrics are very relatable i think. i love it too much

the song that introduced me to the pure insanity that is every track will wood has ever released. pure Gold. lyrics are asking someone to show you their bones but im pretty sure its referencing anorexia or something

watched paper girls and discovered this song. there's just something about it. the screaming ? always been a sucker for that in music. the lyrics ? not exactly sure what but i cannot help but scream along every single time

someone put drugs in this song okay. conjures up images of just chilling on the beach or whatever, even though ive never been to one and would probably hate it bc the sun. i don't know what to say. it sounds Too Fucking Good. floating on my low-key vibe fr

very gay. makes me giggle whenever i listen to it. contains ben bernanke, who seems to be having internal contention about something, calling a dude a sexy little rattlesnake, which is absolutely fucking hilarious to me. highly recommend

not sure what to say here. i mean. it's fall out boy. every single song is a fucking banger. something about this one is particular just rearranges my brain chemistry or something

one of my all-time favorites from mcr which is saying a whole fucking lot as i love every song they've released thus far with all of my heart. i don't know. the screaming the lyrics and everything else all add up to make this song absolutely irresistible to me. also the moaning is funny

recommended to me by someone very special so i have become very attached to it. at the end someone's screaming at you to give em twenty dollars. it's great. also it sounds fucking Good ????? listen to it. right now. i dare you

this list simply would not be complete without a cavetown song. i want to scream about this to everyone i know. i cannot express how much i Love this song. also vic fuentes is on this which makes it even Better

i could go on and on and on; alas, this is pretty fucking long already

pressurelessly tagging @nooneisstraight @moonriseblueeyes @namelessdeceased @cluelessbees @themaxbyers @daydreams-in-the-moonlight @ohfallingdisco @acewhofellonmyface + anyone else :]

Spotify tag game

Thankyou for tagging me @violetsinsummer 💜

Taylor swift coz who doesnt n i obviously cant put all of her songs so here are some but just know id like to include almost every song of hers🙈

Been obsessed with it since heard it on ig

Olivia Rodrigos entire sour album...

The 2nd part of this song gives me the chills fr

This song...well lets just say every single time i lsn to it someones always cutting onions🙃

This barely a handful of my playlist tho...dont judge my taste pls🤭

Tagging (no pressure): @malencholicnyx @disproportionatelysculpting @vellibandi @thenoodlegod @hell-lit011019 @tumhalkisisharmana @midnight-rainnnn @clariascoffee @luarahnapele @yedilkahehaye @agentlilicarter @waitingforthesunrise @timetravellingkitty @walkingaftermidnight07 @lazycowboynerd @noahachilles @gelianro25 @it-be-me-ella + anyone (also dont mind me just on a tagging spree)

[fireofjudgement]

A helping hand (Part 2)

Previous chapter

Fandom: Alice in Borderland

Pairing: Niragi x f!reader

Summary: Left with no other choice you decide to make a deal with the devil himself.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, blood and murder, this one contains sexual content, minors do not interact this is strictly 18+; dub con, choking, hair pulling, name calling, oral sex (m receiving).

A/N: Here it is! My first (poorly written) semi smutty fic. This is my first time writing an oral sex scene so you legally cannot be mean, I know it's bad <3 Also I changed the concept of this chapter like 5 times and yes, there's going to be a third one and oh boy..You're in for a ride.

Tagging: @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @kinkyniragi @yunnnnnnie

Let me know if you want to join the taglist for the next chapter!

--

You didn't have a choice. Refusing his help meant death. Quick and painless, but death nonetheless. An abrupt end to a story too short to make you want to finish it just yet. You wanted to survive, you wanted to live and wrap it up with a well deserved happy ever after. Even living with the consequences of your decision would be better than death. Right? After witnessing all the horrors in and outside of game arenas, after having to fight for every single chapter of your story, there wasn't much he could do for you to regret choosing life over death. Right?

And yet somehow you couldn't help but feel defeated, even after the cheerful music erupts from your phone. The game is cleared. You survived. But what now? You weren't dumb, you knew damn well he's not going to just let you go. Let you forget that he saved your life, risking his own in the process. It didn't matter just how many other lives were lost because of him and his men. To him it was just another game, a game he's always won. And a winner deserves their prize, right? It's only fair.

You looked up at the man walking next to you, he was clearly in no rush to exit the arena. Trying not to stare for too long to not anger him or make him change his mind about saving you, you took in his features. Someone with his looks could either break your neck or your bed frame and while you still weren't sure how you'd feel about the latter, you'd much prefer it over the former. It didn't matter that he saved you barely a few minutes earlier. Nothing mattered anymore. Men like him were ticking time bombs. One wrong move, bang.. Your story would end right then and there. You might have cleared the actual game but now you entered a new, much more dangerous one, the rules of which you didn't know. Yet.

"The name's Niragi", he introduced himself without looking at you. Fuck, you knew you shouldn't have been staring. "You should cheer up, aren't you happy I saved your ass?"

There we go. You knew he was going to bring it up but you didn't expect it to happen right away. "That depends.." your words came out as a whisper, your voice shaking. After everything that happened tonight and what you witnessed during your first game you really weren't sure what to expect from him and the uncertainty was driving you insane.

Wrong answer. Before you could say anything else, Niragi stopped in his tracks, turning towards you with a visibly annoyed expression. "On what?" 

It was hard to focus, with his face so close to yours, his dark eyes filled with anger and something else you couldn't quite place, his smell invading your nostrils. A mixture of fear and need replaced the feeling of uncertainty and hopelessness, despite your efforts to remember what happened that first night. He's an enemy for fuck's sake, you cursed yourself in your thoughts, a literal embodiment of everything you despise. 

You knew he was waiting for an answer and you desperately tried to come up with something but while your mind and your body were fighting a battle that your mind was bound to  lose, words seemed to escape you, making him more and more annoyed with each second. It wasn't long before he was pushing you against the nearest wall, pretty much removing the distance between the two of you. 

"Depends on what? If I knew you were such an ungrateful little bitch, I would have left you there and watched you die!" 

You wanted to survive. You wanted to live. You really did. But not like this. You already lost your freedom once, having to participate in the games, and now this wannabe knight in shining armor was trying to guilt trip you into..what exactly? You weren't sure what his motives were and you couldn't care less. You didn't feel hopeless anymore. Or scared. You were pissed. Little by little you set your bottled up anger free and allow it to consume you. Weeks, months of stress, fear of death and loneliness, all led to this exact moment. You knew what you were about to do could get you killed but enough was enough. You finally snapped.

"Then why didn't you? Why save me out of all people, huh? Did I fucking ask you for help?" You spat in his face, tears already threatening to fall from your eyes. All of this was so fucking unfair. He had no right to treat you like this, no matter who the fuck he thought he was. You didn't ask for this, you didn't ask for his help. All you were trying to do was survive. "How stupid do you have to be to believe I'll be thankful after seeing you murder innocent people for fun? I know you didn't help me because you're such a good person so tell me what you want from me and fuck off!"

You expected everything at that moment. You expected him to slap you. Or to shoot you with his rifle right then and there. But you didn't expect him to laugh in your face, like you just told the best joke he's ever heard. He laughed and laughed, until he couldn't catch his breath. You just stood there, body still pressed against the wall, with Niragi standing way too close to you. Well, at least you were still alive. "What's so fucking funny, huh?" 

"You know," he finally spoke, letting go of you and backing up a little. "when I saw you for the first time..was it a few weeks ago? Months? Eh, who the fuck cares. When I saw you then I thought you were weak. That you wouldn't survive a week in this shithole. And look at you now, you little bitch proved me wrong."

So he did see you that first night. But..that didn't make any sense. "Why didn't you kill me then? You killed everyone else, why not me?" 

"I told you," he shrugged, "you looked like you were about to shit your pants, I thought you'll die before you even get to play again. It was much more fun to see you run away in panic." 

It made sense. As much sense as possible in this wicked world anyway. But there was one more thing bothering you. "So.. why did you save me just now? What exactly is it that you want from me?" You didn't like the way he was looking at you, a cocky grin on his face. 

"Well..I wasn't planning on having this conversation but since you were so honest with me just now, I'll tell you." You averted your gaze, suddenly embarrassed by your outburst. Maybe you overreacted, maybe he wasn't actually going to hurt you. "I was surprised to see you again. See you alive. And yet even after winning so many games you still looked so weak, so..pitiful. Laying on the ground like a fucking loser. You didn't deserve a quick death. I wanted to kill you myself. Slowly. Painfully. I wanted to hear you beg for your pathetic life." Oh. 

"But don't worry," he added, probably noticing your shocked expression. "I've changed my mind. You're much more fun than I expected.." You gasped when he suddenly got closer again, grabbing your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him. His next words made you squeeze your thighs together. "Now I want to see what else that filthy mouth of yours can do."

Before you had the chance to say anything, he let go of your chin only to lower his hand and curl it around your throat. He then leaned in even closer, you felt his hot breath tickling your face. "How about a little deal, hmm?" he asked in a low tone. "You show me how thankful you are for saving you and I'll keep you alive..for now at least."

Your mind went completely blank. Between his hand still on your neck, his body pressed against yours and his voice so close to your ear, you started to forget everything that occurred that night. The whole world was becoming a blur and nothing mattered anymore except for him. His body, his voice, his smell. It's been so long since you've been intimate with anyone and it's never been this exciting, this..dangerous. If only you could forget who he was and what he's done. It's simple, right? You just have to..No.

"Why..why would I do that?" You stuttered, struggling to speak. "What's the point..if I don't even know if you won't kill me..afterwards." You didn't know where all this courage came from. Or maybe it was pure stupidity? Your plan was risky, you knew it. But you were not about to live as his slave, unsure when and how he's going to kill you. You didn't want to let your attraction for him blind you. If you're about to do this, it's going to be on your own terms, or not at all. You'd rather die than live such a sad excuse of a life. 

He didn't say anything at first, not moving a single inch either. He stayed still, processing your words. Ever since he arrived in the Borderland nobody has dared to talk back to him like this, nobody refused his will. He was struggling to keep his composure, patience wasn't a virtue of his afterall. But you turned him on just as much as you pissed him off, if not more, so he was willing to play your game. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he started to slowly pull away from you, freeing you from his tight grip. His eyes stayed glued to yours, as if he was trying to read your mind, figure out what your fucking deal was. He was desperately trying not to show that you took him by surprise. This was not the outcome he expected after saving you. "What do you want then?"

That was a great question. What did you want? Obviously you had to stay realistic, you knew asking too much of him could quickly escalate the already fragile situation. You also knew there was no way you could prevent him from using you but..at this point you weren't even sure who wanted it more, you or him. "I want..I want you to keep me safe during games," you finally spoke, trying to sound as calm and confident as possible, "and..I'll let you do whatever you want to me afterwards." 

"Whatever I want?" he asked, his previously serious expression slowly being replaced by a smirk. You noticed his grip on his rifle tighten, making you gulp nervously. 

"Yes. As long as it involves me being..you know, alive." You put emphasis on the last word, wanting to make sure he understood. You've done everything you could, the ball was in his court now.

"And if I say yes.." he finally spoke after what felt like hours. Before he finished the sentence, he slowly rested his free hand on your hip, his body even closer to yours than before. "how will I know that you'll keep your end of the deal?"

A shadow of a smirk appeared on your face. This was your time to shine. You knew that what you'll do next will either make or break your deal so you decided to give him a taste of what you can do. And if you were being completely honest, you just wanted him to fuck you already. You did everything in your power to stay alive, if he decides to kill you nevertheless he can at least rearrange your organs beforehand. 

"Try not to fall in love, asshole!" was the last thing you said before lightly pushing him away to get some space and getting on your knees. You didn't give him time to think, much less act, swiftly unzipping his pants and pulling them down with newfound energy. If you had any doubts about how much your unexpected arrogance turned him on, they all disappeared now, when you saw the bulge in his boxers, causing wetness to pool between your legs. Eager to finally taste him and make sure he remembers you for a long time you let his underwear join his pants on the ground and..Fuck. Why do the ones with the ugliest personalities always have the prettiest cocks? 

Something must have shown on your face because you suddenly felt his hand on your head, fingers curling into your hair.

"See something you like?" You heard the smirk in his voice before you even looked up.

You rolled your eyes. "I've seen bigger."

"Oh is that so? I didn't expect you to be such a slut. And a bratty one at that. Well, then I guess you won't have a problem taking it all.." 

You didn't have a chance to respond when his grip on your hair tightened significantly, a surprised gasp escaping your mouth. He didn't waste any time, using the chance to thrust into your open mouth, moaning at the contact. He didn't let go even when you gagged around him, struggling to keep up with the pace he set. 

But you weren't going to just let him use you as he pleased. You wanted him to remember you, crave you, come back for more over and over again. Trying to breathe through your nose, you forced yourself to relax, allowing you to take in more and more of his length with each thrust, one of your hands rising to work what your mouth couldn't take. 

It wasn't long till his grip on your hair softened, a string of slurred curses above you a hint that your plan was working. You finally gained the courage to look up, the sight you were greeted with sending shivers straight to your aching cunt. His eyes dark with lust, fixated on your body, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and..you couldn't help but smile around him at how desperately he was holding onto his rifle even at that moment. 

Without breaking eye contact you continued to suck him off, working magic both with your tongue and your fingers. You couldn't help but moan, the salty taste of his soft skin, the noises he was making, the fire in your core growing bigger with each second..it was driving you insane. Not only was his dick pretty, it fit perfectly in your mouth too. Swallowing around him you couldn't help but wonder if it would fit just as perfectly in your other holes.

"Fuck..you're so filthy.." his voice, raspy and lower than you've ever heard before, brought you back to reality. "If..if you keep going like this you'll have yourself a deal." 

His words filled you with even more energy. One hand still wrapped around his cock, now slick with your saliva, you started massaging his balls with the other, immediately gaining his approval in the form of loud moans and quiet praises.

It wasn't long before you felt him tremble, his fingers tugging at your hair again. You knew he was close so you sped up your pace, trying to take as much of him as you could. Still looking him in the eyes, despite the tears running down your face, you swallowed around him one last time before he came with a guttural moan. You didn't waste a single drop, swallowing everything he gave you, only pulling away when he came down from his high.

You stayed down afterwards, patiently waiting for him to make his next move. Beaming with pride you started to imagine what he'll do to you. Will he fuck you right away? Will he return the favor first? You clenched around nothing when you remembered about his tongue piercing.

Deep in your thoughts you didn't even notice him putting his clothes back on in silence. It wasn't till you heard his footsteps that you realised..this asshole was walking away, as if nothing happened. 

"Niragi, what the fuck are you doing?" You yelled, quickly getting up and running after him.

"What does it look like?" He asked, without turning around. "I'm going home. In case you haven't noticed, the game is over."

"Wait..what about our deal?" This couldn't end like this, not after everything that happened, not after you risked so much..

"I'll see you at the next game, sweetheart. And don't forget about our date afterwards!" 

And with that he left.

[bokugaos]

because i’d spread my legs and holes any day for him

length: ~1k

tags: fisting, desk sex, male worship (bokuto, only and only bokuto), squirting

there is nothing like the sear of bokuto's hands on your body, everything pales in comparison and drives your mind out of your head. his kisses always leave heat trailing from every single brush of chapped lips and it makes you go insane. it doesn't matter when or how he does it, it's just that he can and will always make you ache for him.

there is an invisible collar around your neck with a string, red as fresh blood, strong as a leash of steel, curled around his wrist. bokuto owns you, every breath you take and every move you make belongs to the man.

it's why you are so pliant right in that moment, pressed flat against the table and has a silent war insisting to break between your teeth and tongue. why the hands gripping your hips are bruising you through the thick fabric of your clothes.

bokuto is a fire that you cannot contain, and he burns like an endless force, blinding your every sight and tearing you apart through your veins.

teeth clash against your lips and you think that maybe today is the day, the day where bokuto realizes that he is the sun, burning bright during his days, and decides to scorch you until there is nothing left, that there is nothing for the cover of night to fully heal again.

you are a slut for pain, you think while you arch your hips to have those greedy hands drag your panties down and off of your ankles, baring your skin to the furious fire that roamed. he urges you to twist and lay on your front, groping at the curve of your ass to only make you go faster.

when will he learn that you never needed the prompting, that whatever he would like, you would do for him?

that you would kneel at the man's feet and would not ask for a single thing from him?

you shift your body, the edge of the table digging into your abdomen and you shiver at the cool drizzle of liquid down the small of your back. it slithers, slicking a path down the dip of your spine and between the crease where his fingers eagerly smear it across your opening. your breath stutters and you can hear the smug hum as he presses a single digit inward.

bokuto doesn't often take his time at things like this, but today it seems he will and you wonder how long it will take you to beg.

the finger slides in and out, crooking this way and that, your breath getting caught in the pit of your chest. It crooks just the right way and you don’t hold back the whine that spills out of you. you don't need to look at bokuto to know he's smiling, teeth bared and enjoying the submissive posture you are providing.

one finger becomes two, two becomes three and three becomes four before he speaks, fiery in his own way, "wonder if you could take my whole fist," he muses.

you can only take a sharp breath and nod your head in reply, because you would. because you’d do anything he asks and not think twice.

your thoughts break apart as you feel bokuto's thumb tucking right against your entrance and more cool lube is poured on you, then he pushes it in carefully, stretching you more and more. You can hear yourself whimper because everything, as it should mean when in reference to bokuto, is on the deliciously painful edge of too much.

And you cannot think of anything but maybe, maybe this is something you cannot take. knuckles brush against you and push against it before popping through, the thickest part and the rest of the hand follows easily.

bokuto hums his satisfaction, pushing until your hole closes around his wrist and finally curls his fingers into a fist and rocks it gently. lightning flickers up your spine and you fall forward as his knuckles grind against your insides. your pussy is tingling and aching and your lips are almost numb. you don’t remember biting down so hard, but you have.

"i think you'll come just from this," bokuto tells you as if there is anything he does to you that your body wouldn’t obey to, "can you do that for me?"

of course you can and you will, anything for bokuto.

it is excruciating, the pleasure you’re given and how slowly it takes your burning ember to gain footing in the new thing he’s forcing your body to do, but it is so worth it as he finds his stride. every rock leaves you breathless and painfully in need of more, you start to beg as the pace increases.

you come gushing with a helpless scream, your legs losing its footing on the ground, only the table holding you up. you wail as he continues, refusing to let it finish and you are still squirting in spurts. faintly, you hear bokuto laughing heartily, dark and beautiful at the mess you willingly become for him.

he shifts his hand again and the pressure is off of a certain angle on your guts, though he continues to play with you like you’re his new toy. exhaustion is creeping up fast and as he finally pulls his hand free and aligns his dick to fuck your hole, a softer laugh escapes from him and you take the chance to glance over at his unrelentless burst of sunlight, his silver and black strands matted to his forehead with eyes piercing gold daggers into your skin.

"i’m getting tired," you tell him when your breath has slowed down, with a lazy twist up the corner of your mouth.

fingers card through your hair and you find a finger popping at your mouth to be granted entrance. As the digit finally presses down hard against your tongue, you close your teeth over the skin and hold it there and listen well to him, "that’s fine! I'll just have to fuck you until you wake up."

with a smile, you are thumped back against the desk, groaning as he shoves himself in roughly and begins to take his own pleasure.

eyelids flutter and slowly come to close, you think, relaxing yourself into a doze, that you can’t think of ever giving yourself to anyone else, anyone better than bokuto.

[hologramcowboy]

Since the trolls haven't gotten the idea yet, it's time to make an official announcement.

I truly could not care less what group you belong to, if your ammo is cyber-mobbing, inciting suicide and other forms of emotional violence you should not even be calling yourself human let alone AA or what have you.

Fandom is meant to be a safe space where people can have fun and escape their lives, dive into imagination, appreciation, storytelling, art and many other wonderful things.

So, if all you do in your life is play the terrorist, please consider the fact that nothing outside of yourself will solve what's inside and you need to turn to professionals for the sake of not only your own sanity but those around you who are affected by your violent outbursts and tantrums.

This blog has always been hate free, so it pains me when I have to use tags like anti AAs, anti danneel stans and such because I receive hateful messages like "kill yourself" from people who cannot accept diversity and different perspectives. To be judged for doing so on top of being cyber-mobbed and incited to suicide is just beyond insane.

This blog contains critical thinking and personal views, it also contains two very clear disclaimers, I'm tired of people trying to hijack my platform for their idiotic fandom wars. I could care less about your groups, stay human and most of all stay sane and responsible. Remember that you are responsible for your own actions so stop hiding behind "loving Jensen" because I'm pretty sure Jensen doesn't want people attacking others let alone inciting them to suicide in his name. That's all you are doing, staining his name with your malice and looking like an insane person in the process of committing criminal offenses under various legislation. Everything you do leaves a footprint on the internet, remember that.

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children [DP x Batman Crossover] Ch. 1

Disclaimer: It's been a while since I watched DP and the only Batman/DC stuff I've interacted with are B:TAS, the JL cartoons, and what I got from fandom osmosis so don't expect any sort of canon compliance.

In Which: the author takes advantage of the passage of time in Nanda Parbat being wonky and Danny doesn't give up, per se, but is sort of resigned to being stuck with the League of Assassins until further notice.

AO3 | Prologue | [ 1 ] | 2 |

CW for descriptions of non-consensual drug use (if there's anything you guys would like me to tag, please tell me)

-----

WHEN SOMETHING WENT WRONG WITH DANNY’S LIFE, it was usually because of one or two things: Ghosts or Vlad. And considering their truce and how even Vlad wouldn’t go this far (at least, Danny hoped), Danny was kidnapped because of ghosts. Or his association with ghosts.

Though how an organization of ninja-assassins got wind of his ‘unique’ circumstance was beyond him. The shackles they slapped on his wrists were more a formality than anything after the second time he tried to escape them with intangibility. The only reason they managed to get him contained the entire trip from Amity Park to wherever the fuck Nanda Parbat lay was because of the cocktail of drugs they pumped into his system spiked with blood blossoms.

Danny had to give it to them. The League of Assassins might not have any anti-ecto weaponry, but they did their homework.

He barely remembered the trip. He catches flashes—blurry figures and words he couldn’t comprehend. A warm hand holding his, a thumb rubbing smooth circles on the back of his palm and calloused fingers running through his hair.

When he awoke, it was in a room bigger than his bedroom. His ankle was shackled to a bedpost, and the only door leading out was locked. There was a separate room for the bathroom off to the side and a shelf stacked with books decorating the otherwise bare walls, but other than that there wasn’t much else. Not even windows.

Intangibility, he learned, wasn’t an option. The blood blossoms in his bloodstream were still in circulation, rendering his transformation useless. If his nose was right, his captors were pumping blood blossoms from the vents. The sickly sweet of the flower was faint in the cool air, but the slight red haze that persisted in the room was unmistakable.

He tried, regardless. The rings barely made it half-way before his knees buckled and he started retching all over the floor. At least his stomach was empty.

-------

Danny doesn’t know how long he’s been in Nanda Parbat. Time moved differently here. Faster, he thought. He doesn’t really understand how or why, though sometimes he wondered what Clockwork thought of all of this.

(There are times, in the darkness and solitude of his cell, when Danny would call for Clockwork to rescue him. Quietly, so quietly, it was barely even a whisper. But Clockwork would hear it—Danny was sure he would. Clockwork helped him out before, so this time shouldn’t be all that different. But at the end of the night, nothingness would answer him. And Danny had to learn over and over again that even the Ghost of Time had his own rules to follow.)

It had taken a few days and Talia nearly biting the head off of the League’s physician for them to realize that blood blossoms would be an awful way to contain him. Effective at immobilizing him, yes, but the flowers left him about as helpless as Superman in a kryptonite cave.

“It all works out in the end,” Talia would say. “The blossoms were never going to become a long-term solution; you might end up developing an immunity to them given enough exposure.”

Though knowing now what Talia’s ‘long-term plan’ was for making sure Danny didn’t slip through the walls of the headquarters and fly across the ocean, Danny would rather take his chances with the blood blossoms.

Danny might not have been as smart as Vlad, but he was tricky and creative when he needed to be. He knows he’s powerful. And sure, he might forget some of his own abilities every now and then, but that doesn’t mean he can’t use them. In the time he’s been stuck in the Leage’s lair (and coherent), Danny had thought of a dozen escape plans, each one with a high chance of success. If he made an attempt, he could guarantee the League wouldn’t notice until he was a quarter-way across the globe.

Escaping wasn’t the problem. That would be the easy part.

His core burned at the thought of it. And it hurt—as if his entire being was dunked in a vat of dry ice and left to freeze. He hated how he was here and everything that he was protecting was far. Away.

Danny wanted to go home. Wanted to read comic books in his bed, play Doom with Tucker and Sam, sleep in class and make fun of the Box Ghost. He wants to eat his mom’s food, even if there’s a fifty-fifty chance that it would come alive and try to eat him instead. He wants to listen to Jazz try to psychoanalyze his problems. Wants to go fishing with his dad and eat his famous chocolate fudge. Wants to fly above the skies of Amity Park and touch what little he can of the universe before he’s called down again.

Amity Park is his haunt. His Home. The soft hum of the Ghost Portal in the basement a lullaby he’s listened to for so long that sleeping without it was next to impossible. Every fiber of his being craved to go back because how is he supposed to protect Amity if he isn’t there?

But to go back meant sacrificing everyone.

Danny doesn’t risk it.

(The—the last time was an accident. If Danny isn’t—if he isn’t careful, this time it may be an assassination. He refused to have his family’s death on his hands again.)

He has faith in Sam, Tucker, and Jazz to hold down the fort until he could find a way to escape. They’re smart. Smarter than him. They’ll work something out and—in a worst-case scenario, they’ll find a way to shut down the Ghost Portal to stop the ghosts from coming through.

Logic meant nothing to his ghost core, though. The next best thing to do was to drown out his worries with the League’s rigorous education.

Hand-to-hand and weapons combat. Geography. History. Dozens of foreign languages. Poisons and herbology and basic first-aid. His days are packed with new things to learn and to repeat until it’s drilled into his skull so deep he could recite the information in his sleep. (Hyosycamus niger, aka Henbane. Every part is highly toxic and can cause dizziness, stupor, insanity, and eventual death. It’s medicinal uses range from--)

The League demanded perfection. The Demon’s Head demanded even more than that.

Talia oversaw his education. Sometimes, there would be another, older, man by her side, observing his regimen with cold calculation. Whenever that man arrived, Danny’s instructors were always stricter.

His teachers made little effort to interact with him outside of their set schedule, and during his lessons they only ever answer pertinent questions. He supposed there would be other students of the League in Nanda Parbat, but he’s seen neither hide nor hair of them. His rooms (a bedroom + bathroom combo that led out into a large indoor space for training) are separate from everything else.

Danny slept alone, ate alone, and trained alone. And for a boy who has had his two best friends stuck to his side like glue for as long as he could remember, it’s a terribly lonely experience.

His shadow guards don’t count. They might as well be another piece of furniture. Another stone in the wall.

-------

Talia was the only one that broke his new mundane routine, as much as she was the cause of it. She was his only source of companionship in this hell hole; the only one who would really speak to him. And yeah, he knew why that was. Jazz had rambled on enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that this ‘arrangement’ was Talia’s attempts at forging a bond between them. But godit’s just so hard to be stuck inside your own mind all day when. It made him think too much. Worry. (Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatif).

And then—

And then.

Danny had asked Talia a multitude of questions, but only two did she ever answer. Both asked when he was still trying to flush the drug cocktail and the blood blossoms from his system.

The first was when he asked, “Why am I here?” She answered that it was because Ra’s al Ghul, her father, wanted him. He had knowledge the Demon’s Head wanted; powers that Ra’s could only ever dream of. The man was curious—though Talia assured him over and over again that Danny wouldn’t be vivisected and studied for science.

The second answer came right after when Danny asked her “How could you be so sure?”

Talia smiled. Lacquered fingers coming up to brush away the dark strands that fell over his face. Her hands traced the curve of his jaw, cupping his cheeks to raise his eyes to hers. “Because you are my son,” she said, voice honey sweet.

He jerked from her hold.

Burned by it.

“You’re lying,” he spat. “I’m already someone else’s son. Try again.”

Talia let her hands drop to her sides. “You are my son.” She took a step closer towards him. Steady. Firm. “That is why you are here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

A pitying smile. “Be that as it may, you cannot change the truth.” She approached him, slowly backing him against the wall before she reached out to tilt his chin upwards. Some traitorous part of Danny’s mind catalogued her features. Made connections that shouldn’t exist. “I have carried you in my womb, Daniel. You were a part of me for so very long and I loved you more with each passing day. You are of my body and of my blood—not matter how much you may deny it.”

“No.” He pushed her hands away and raked his hands over his hair. “You’re lying.” She must be. They don’t look alike. Not at all. Everyone always said he was his dad’s—Jack Fenton’s—exact copy. Black haired and blue eyed and sharp-jawed. Awkward but well-meaning and with a heart of gold, his mother said. It was once of the facts of life; Danny took after his dad, and Jazz took after their mom. Simple as that.

(There is a memory resurfacing from his early childhood that Danny is desperately trying to repress again. Memories of kids teasing him on the playground, innocently cruel in the way only children can be as they tried to convince him he was adopted. That his skin looked nothing like his parents’. Dusky where his parents and sister were fair. He went home crying to his parents that same day, and they soothed away his worries with hushed words and a well-timed distraction.)

He asked no more questions after that. Talia was lying to him for some reason, and no answer she could give would be trustworthy anyways. What little of him he could see in her was only a figment of his own imagination. His mind playing cruel tricks.

Then his hopes were dashed aside when Talia showed him a picture of his father a day later.

The man in the photo looked like him. Black haired and eyes the same shade of too-bright blue. There were differences, of course. The man in the photograph was fairer, unlike Danny. He was taller and broader where Danny was lean and lanky. But despite this and all the other minute differences, this man who was supposed to be Danny’s biological father looked like him.

The same slant of the brow. The same shape of the eyes. The way the man held himself with this sense of gravitas and power that Danny couldn’t yet do in his awkward teenage years but had seen before. In a monster another man.

Danny’s future self was terrifying in its inhumanity, but it didn’t take that much of an imagination to know that he looked almost exactly like the man in the picture.

[thedevilandhisbride]

Welcome to our corner of Tumblr, We are the The Devil and his Bride. ⤚🦌⇾

Name(s) -> Rae / Raeven ^ also fine: Friend, Hostile, Catacomb, Athazagora Pronouns -> That thing/That things, Hell/Hound, Keysmash ^ He/Him is fine, no They/Them, only mutuals can use She/Her Hosts -> Will [He/She/They], Hannibal [He/They] ^ others may or may not let themselves be known Carrd -> https://thedevilandhisbride.carrd.co/#

[Previously known as: The Poet Polyplex/The Catacomb Creature Containment Unit, House of Poets, Ill-Code Collective, Friend System] [Under the cut has our DNI, BYF, boundaries, tags, sideblogs, etc.]

Our post about system and nonspeaking apps -> Click on me! We are: - Queer and trans - Disabled - Neurodivergent in many ways - Religious and spiritual - Mixed/Bipoc (Want specifics? Come back with a warrant) DNI: - Usual DNI (Racist, LGBTQ+phobic, etc) - Sysmeds/Anti-Endo - Terf/Transmed/TMERF/Anti-Transmasc (Including if you dont believe transandrophobia exists) - Pedophile/MAP/AAM - Anti-para, or pro-contact/complex-contact - Believe thought crimes exist - Radqueer/Kandiqueer or Xenosatanist - Anti-Mspec identities or contradicting labels - Honestly if you are against good faith identities and people just go away please BYF: - I use slurs and will not tag them, and I would prefer that you asked before tagging one of my og posts or tag reblogs that have slurs as 'q slur' or 'f slur' etc. - I call myself insane and things like that, especially about media, and I can say these things because I am psychotic. If that makes you uncomfortable, dont follow me. - If you have ANY questions about my stances, or are wondering things about me, please send in an ask <3 I know I said to come back with a warrant but that warrant honestly just needs to be showing that you are willing to have a genuine conversation. - I am not the best at articulating things, especially when it comes to discourse, and I tend to be shy when researching because I have been misled and I am still damaged from it. I prefer to go to people whose activism and well-worded posts I agree with for links and starting off points for researching down the right rabbit holes. If you are going to debate me and my stances, or get my opinions on something, PLEASE give me both sides of the discourse and at least a jumping off point to looking into both sides cons against each other. - Also, when I say to not talk to me about current world issues (noted in boundaries), I typically mean about war. I can handle queer discourse, and syscourse, and similar things to that, and witch and pagan discourse, but I cannot be of any help to anybody if I cannot safely research and actually process what I am reading. If you believe that I should research and talk about it regardless of my mental health, get out. - I tend to mindlessly reblog and like posts with weird and sometimes personal tags. - I will bite you. Your flesh cannot escape my teeth. Boundaries: - Use headmates, not alters/parts/etc. - Use Introject/Anaspect, not fictive/factive/etc. - Collective/System is fine, but we prefer Somber/Somber Assembly - You&, You all, Y'all is all good - We've had many system collapses, and so all of our old headmates that ran this blog pre-TDahB are gone. Many of those old opinions, or posts, do not reflect how we operate and act today. ^ Piggy backing off of this, the old headmate blogs are still up. They will never be active, but exist still. We just removed them from this post. - Do not ask us to talk about current world issues. - We've redone this intro post again for reasons in this post.

Need us to tag anything? Send us an ask. ^ We are open to question asks as well. Tags: (We will try to remember these) #tdahbposting #tdahbanswers (may be misspelt as #tdahbanswering) #save for later #important

Side Blogs: @animisticpagan - Religious sideblog about paganism and witchcraft @citadelofmarks - Citadel of Mark's subsystem sideblog

Sorry I update this so much. Peace and love </3

[eveenstar]

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 [𝑨 𝑨𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒙 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒐 𝑹𝒆𝒏 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 || 𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒛𝒆𝒏 𝑨𝑼]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐡 𝐈'𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐨||

Summary:  After your sister's coronation, you hoped destiny had bigger plans for you. With the arrival of the king of Alderaan, you finally feel like your life will turn into a fairytale after so many years of being isolated. Maybe you shouldn've have been so hopeful. But not everyone gets a happy ending, and maybe the answers you seek are right down the hallway.

Tags/Warnings: Mention of parents death.

Author's note: Hello, here it is! First chapter! Before we begin, let me explain a few things bc this will get a bit confusing: Rey and (Y/N) are princesses of Naboo just because of Palpatine and Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is the king of Alderaan. Now I know this doesn't make any sense and I'm terribly sorry for it, but it was the only way it worked for me. Also got inspiration from the Broadway Frozen musical bc it's simply amazing ♡ If you want to be in the taglist, just say so! Hope y'all enjoy! ✨

Taglist: @girl-next-door-writes

"Princess?"

"Uhm-hn"

"Princess (Y/N)?"

"Ahn-ah ahm yes, I am awake, yes," You blinked twice before shutting your eyes close again as the light bothered your sleep. It didn't matter, as your handmaid kept poking your arm. "What, what's wrong?"

"It's your sister's coronation day, your highness."

"Of course, yes," You sleepily chuckled, hugging your pillow for more warmth and comfort.

Your sister's coronation

Rey's coronation

You jumped in alarm, falling off your bed with a loud thund and scaring the handmaid, who immediately tried to help you get up, "It's my sister coronation day! Oh dear stars! I can't believe it!"

It was indeed your oldest sister's, Rey, big day. It was her coronation. After the death of your parents, your grandfather Sheev Palpatine promised to take charge until the young queen was of age. For some strange reason, Palpatine ordered for the palace gates to be closed, no parties, no visitors, nothing. You didn't understand why, and to make things worse, your grandfather refused to explain it.

So, for a very long time, you lost contact with any living being besides droids, Palpatine and Ylvir, the handmaid. If lucky, you'll catch glimpses of your sister here and there, but she doesn't spare you a minute of her time.

It is time that changes.

"You look delightful, your highness!" Ylvir smiled at you as she happily clapped. She was, in fact, the only person you grew up with. She was your mother's handmaid, now yours, and perhaps the most kind woman you'd met besides your mother.

"Thank you," You retributed the smile and walked to the large window. The gates remained closed for now, but you could feel the anxiety of the whole city for them to finally open after so many years. "Ylvir, do we have any important visitors today?"

"Oh yes, we have the arrival of the king of Alderaan." You immediately turned around with widen eyes. You'd heard of him before, the royalty of Alderaan is...complicated. You were forbidden to speak about it, only to respect the new king when the time comes and not mention his dead name. A tall, dark-haired man that apparently can kill with one look only.

Ben Solo.

"Kylo Ren? Oh dear stars, this will be a disaster." You gasped, but with positive thoughts Ylvir grabbed your hands on hers and kept her smile. Her sweet, motherly smile.

"Princess, I assure you everything will be fine. Just be yourself."

"I bet Bee-Bee that I will spill my drink on him." Your droid, Bee-Bee, made a surprised sound behind you. "Sorry!"

Truly, having the gates open was a dream come true. But, you couldn't deny yourself the truth: terrified. You were beyond scared and anxious for today. You have no sociable skills, and the parties you attended before your parents death were few so the only skill you had was smile and wave.

For a long time, you felt caged in like a animal. Rey was your grandfather's Palpatine favorite, of course, she was destined to become queen. At least, your parents never did that, no, they treated you as equals. For some reason, you couldn't deny that there was something about Rey that was different.

The whispers in the walls.

You can hear them sometimes, ocasionally they last for countless days. In a language lost to time, one you cannot even begin to comprehend, but seems so familiar. Like you've heard it before somewhere, on a long forgotten dream. They bother you, they bother because you can feel their energy. You can feel the darkness within. The monsters someone kept buried for so long it began to eat them from the inside out.

Sometimes, you think they come from the red door. The door that separates you from your dear sister. The door that was closed on your face and the beginning of your solitude. You hate that door, in fact, you began to despise red because of it. The things you heard from there...terrible things. Things you can't see or speak about. Palpatine knows you know. It's like a mutual secret, like he's waiting for your move. But you won't make it. And he knows you won't.

After all, why would you? What is there for you in the world without them? Without your precious little kingdom? So you kept silence, you pretended you never heard anything. Nothing. Not even a needle falling to the ground.

You felt suffocated, so this coronation was your best shot to try to get out of here. Maybe...meet the one. Oh yes, you wondered if there was someone for you in this galaxy. You wondered how tall they were, how their personality was like, their life, their own stories...At least you had Bee-Bee to talk about it. He was your best friend since forever, and has the energy of a child.

And so it begans, the coronation.

And, to nobody's surprise, you are late to it.

You sprinted as fast as you could in your dress, down the hallways. At least there was little staff around (which your grandfather hired again) for you to be embarrassed. Running in heels was horrendous, you felt like your feet were being poked with needles (maybe that's an exaggeration of your end) every time they hit the ground in a rush. How did you make such a mistake, getting late to the event you've been planning for years? No, you didn't overslept, you were, once more, in one of your enormous dialogues with Bee-Bee (of course, not pretending you were the one being coronated today at all) and lost track of time. You bet you won't hear the end of it from your grandfather, and how you dared to arrive late in front of such important guests. Including the king of Alderaan.

Oh stars, the king of Al-

"Uf!" You face-slammed against something, or someone (who's tall as a tree, in your opinion) and fell on your back, thanks to the horrible heels, with a loud uff. Your dress now looked like a ball of fabrics on top of more expensive fabrics.

"Beg your pardon, my lady, I was not on my-"

"I'm so sorry, completely my mistake, I shouldn't have-oh." Your eyes fell upon the tall, dark-haired man who stared back at you with his deep, coal black eyes. You felt the embarassement arriving on your cheeks as you came to realize who you had just slammed against; the mighty Kylo Ren, king of Alderaan. "Hi, I mean, I'm so sorry, your majesty."

With the easiest pull, Kylo helped you back on your feet, you lowered your head as you pretended to clean your dress while mumbling another apology. Your grandfather will kill you after this.

"This is so awkward..."

You looked up and saw him tilting his head a bit while staring at you. Then you realized you did say that out loud, how wonderful, just to make everything better.

"I mean, not that you're awkward, I am. Dear stars, I'm sorry, your majesty."

Maybe jumping out of the large windows right next to you two would be an easiest escape of here. Why is he even staring at you that way? Oh please, you hope he's not planning some way of k-

"I'm sorry, I'm princess (Y/N) of Naboo."

"Princess? My lady." As if you took him by surprise, Kylo Ren bowed before you, but you quickly rushed to stop whatever he was thinking you were.

"Oh please, no, no, I'm not that princess. My sister Rey is the queen, I'm just...me." You left a tense chuckle in the end, trying to ease the situation to your side and now pass as the idiot, younger sister you may as well actually be. Kylo kept his stare, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch, maybe into a tiny smile?

"Just...you?"

"Yes, uh, not that I'm complaining, no, the dresses and food are amazing and," He raised an eyebrow, probably thinking you were insane. "I'm sorry, I'm not making any sense, I should probably go before it's too late!"

As you made your way past him as graceful as you could to still save some of the dignity you had left, the king grabbed your hand and twisted you around.

"Wait, princess oh I'm just me," You knew he was mocking you with that, but not in a mean way, no, in a friendly way. A way that made your heart jump to your throat and almost past your lips as his large hand covered yours. "Will I see you again?"

You blinked before answering, not knowing what to reply to that. Yes, maybe, definitely, you hope so.

"Of course."

With that, he smiled and let you go. It looked like he was about to add something else, as his hand pointed to something behind him but the moment you heard bells ring, your mind finally reminded you why you were running in the first place.

"Oh stars, I'm sorry, your majesty. I must go if I want to arrive to the ball!"

You didn't even look back as you rushed again, but not containing the smile that crippled upon your face with tremendous joy.

[fieryfantasybooklover]

Scythes And Stories - Chapter 1 - Lady Of Death

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Tagged: @lily-chen-deserves-better @julieandthefandoms @blackthorn-trash @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @brotherhalal-ariahs @mithriel-of-mithlond @hands-dripping-ink @themostawesomehuman @zfoxdraws @insane---chaos @imherongraystairstrash @tessagraycarstairs

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The sun rose over the sprawling city of Vesperum. It was a city like a double sided coin, as most cities are. Containing the extremes of both darkness and light, Vesperum had long been the shining capital city of the kingdom Solis. In Vesperum, merchants haggled their wares, shouting to the birds winging overhead. Royal caravans toured through the city center, graciously waving and smiling. The sunsets gave way to the star spangled night, and warriors trained with sword and bow, dagger and mace. This was the city full of life, the side most royals and people in power wanted every visitor to see. However, light cannot exist without darkness and darkness cannot exist without light. In the very same city, peasants cry, unable to feed their children. Corrupt members of the government steal money and secrets, hissing lies with uplifted lips. The outlying kingdoms of Luna, Stellae, Caelum laugh, able to see what natives to Solis cannot - their kingdom is dying. And in the dying city, an assassin cleans her blade.

Anna Corvere was cleaning her dagger. Onyx and bone. Approximately 10 inches long. Blade sharp enough to cut steel. She was running the cloth back and forth, back and forth across the blade, methodically and robotically cleansing the blood from her blade. Her hands trembled only slightly, the only tell to her inner turmoil. “Another day, yet another murder.��� she thought bitterly as she finished cleaning her dagger and stored it away. I never wanted this to happen, a voice deep inside her whispered. Anna shoved it down, deep into her soul, smothering it and denying it air. “I’m ridding the world of corruption, which is more than most people will ever do. After all, what am I but a weapon to be wielded by the organization.” glancing out the window at the sky, Anna sighed. It was the trademark mix of slate gray and periwinkle blue that signaled the coming of winter. It would likely be snowing tomorrow, and as cold as the empty vastness of space. Today’s target had been a minor government official, one who worked in the currency department. He’d been stealing money, little aware someone had been watching.

Anna worked for the Ravens. They were a society of covert people, composed of black market traders, underground weapon’s manufacturers, smugglers, and assassins. The group had formed over common interests and desire to stay undetected. Undetected to the royal family - King Samuel, Queen Mirabelle, and their daughter Ariadne - and to their advisers. The soldiers of the government hated them, and had done so ever since the Ravens’ leader Midnight tasked herself with eliminating the evil that had seeped into Solis. And had spent the recent years making true on that promise. Anna, now 17 years of age, had been a member for over a decade. One of the recruiters had found her. Hiding in her old bedroom, screaming, her parents dead in the room next door.

That part of her memory was so faded she could barely picture her bed, or her toys, or even what her house looked like from the outside. Nobody ever found her parent’s murders, and Anna knew to this day they were alive and well, somewhere in the world. Anna had trained since she was five, having exhibited at an early age a talent for battle. Now, here she was, 12 years later. One of the most famous amature assassins in the society, known to the public only as the Lady of Death. Shuddering in the ice cold shower she always made herself take after a job.

One hour and an envelope containing her pay later, Anna flopped back on her bed. Her dark hair was thrown into a messy ponytail, and she sighed. “I wonder if I’ll finally catch a fucking break now. That was the quickest job I’ve ever done. Nobody spotted me, all witnesses removed. Will that be enough to please Mr. oh-you-must-do-better-Ms.-Anna-Mason? Will that be enough to earn me just a day to myself? But oh no, I must be ready at all times to leave.” Anna snarked to herself before quickly sobering. “It’s not good to think that way”, she thought, shaking her head to clear it. “After all, where would I be without them?” she thought logically. “It’s no good to allow myself impudence.”

“Ms. Anna!” Wes called from down the hall. “Mason has requested you in the briefing room in 10!” Anna groaned, gathering the strength to toss aside her book and stand. “Thanks Wes!” she shouted back, quickly changing into her gear. Anna grabbed a dagger, strapped it to her thigh, and set off down the hallway of the Ravens’ base. New recruits gawked as she passed, providing more evidence to the rumors that stayed at Anna’s heels wherever she went. “That’s her. That's the Lady of Death!” one gangly teenage boy whispered to his friend. Anna turned to them, slowing to a half and tilting her head slightly. The two froze, eyes widening and darting as if looking for an escape. But Anna merely smiled, dipped her head, and said “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.” saying nothing more, Anna turned and resumed her stroll, a vision in black and shadows. “Woah... Maybe we’ll be like her some day!” the second boy whispered as Anna disappeared down the hall, leaving yet another story behind her.

“Yes Mason? What is it you want?” Anna asked when she arrived in the briefing room. Mason, her supervisor and current head assassin, sighed. Anna surveyed the room quickly, ice blue eyes scanning and cataloging. It didn’t take long for her to realize that the entire Assassin's Council was here - the society’s 10 most esteemed and longest standing assassins. They were all here, seated around the ornate table at the center of the room. The only thing that could mean was this was not just an ordinary meeting. Face betraying nothing, Anna turned back to Mason and raised her eyebrows. “Am I going to assume this meeting is of some importance, or are we just here for tea.” Anna asked, waiting. Raina, one of the council members, heaved a deep breath. “You are correct. This meeting is of importance. Utmost importance actually, so let’s get to it.” Dread rose in Anna then, a feeling unfamiliar to her and entirely unwelcome. It swelled inside her, cold and heavy and malicious. And then, the scythe fell.

“We need you to kill Princess Ariadne."

[too-old-for-fangirling-but-idc]

Rising Sun

This is a request from very long ago and I finally found the time to write it down. It’ s been a very busy year for me, but I think I’ll start writing again. I don’t want to promise anything, but maybe I’ll be more productive over the next few weeks. Anyways, have fun reading it :)

Rating: explicit

Summary: You’re an assistant for the avengers. One day, Loki and you accidentally get exposed to a sex pollen in the avengers lab and it forces them to convince their feelings for each other followed by smut.

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Notes: (Y/N) = your name

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, forced confessing, pwp, smut (badly written, I guess), explicit sexual content, tender but hurried sex, feels

Word count: 2284

Requested by: a lovely anon

Read it on Ao3

Tags at the end

 It wasn’t an unusual activity for you, being in Tony Stark’s laboratory. You had been working there for a few months now and then, when Stark couldn’t take care of it himself or needed an unusual big amount of chemicals for whatever insane project he was working on. You liked working in the Avengers Building. There were a lot of different people with so many different stories and backgrounds to work with, not just SHIELD agents and the Avengers. It was just amazing, you couldn’t wish for a better place to work at. Your favourite person to be around was Bruce, or Thor. They were like big Teddy bears, docile and pure-hearted, but at the same time brutally honest – at least Thor.

The only thing that struck you as odd was that Loki was somewhere in the room as well. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his presence around you. Well, it wasn’t exactly odd to have him in the lab, just the fact that he preferred to stay invisible was somehow weird. Although you didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t interrupt your work or made snarky comments. And he loved to make snarky comments, it was a very Loki-thing to do.

You sorted the chemicals Tony had asked you for and put the name tags on some new ones that had just arrived. Of course, you didn’t open them, some of the chemicals were risky or dangerous and you didn’t want to burn any of your senses or your skin.

“It smells weird.”

There was the snarky comment you had been waiting for.

“No, it doesn’t. And now let me do my work.” You concentrated on the containers in front of you. Loki was just making fun of you. You could smell nothing besides the sterile disinfected smell of a normal laboratory.

“My bad, I forgot that mortal senses are not as good as the senses of gods.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around. To your surprise he wasn’t invisible anymore. Instead, he leaned against one of the counters with several chemicals on it.

“Well, I’m so sorry I’m disappointing you.” You sighed and turned your back on him to focus on your work again.

“I can just warn you and tell you what is obvious.”

“And what is obvious?” You asked, still not sensing anything that was off or different than usually.

“The smell. It shouldn’t be like this.” He strolled over to stand next to you.

“Oh well, maybe your imagination plays a trick on you because I cannot smell anything weird here.” You put the chemicals away and looked at him. Maybe you should trust him and his senses, but again, it was Loki, he could just be fooling you as always, that was why you didn’t want to give in that easily.

“My imagination? Don’t underestimate me, (Y/N).” It didn’t sound upset or like an insult, though, more like he was slightly amused and trying to hide that. You smiled and placed your hand on his chest, somehow feeling more thrilled and brave than usual.

“I’m not underestimating you.” You said and rubbed his chest lightly. “I like you way too much to do that.”

“Define ‘way too much’.” He raised one of his dark eyebrows and placed his left hand on your waist.

“Oh? Well, I like you a lot. Is that defining enough?” You smiled.

“No, certainly not.” A small smirk lingered on his face, teasing, but gentle at the same time.

“Hm, well. What do you want to hear?”

His smile widened and he pulled you close by your waist now. “There are a lot of things I would rather hear, Miss (Y/N).”

“So? Then tell me about all those things.”

“Just if you tell me how much you really like me.”

You thought about that for a minute or two and then decided that maybe he was right. Maybe you should tell him about your feelings.

“Well, a lot.”

“Which means?” He was teasing, you knew that, you could see it. There were slight hints of mischief flickering in his eyes.

“I think you can answer that without my help.” You smiled the most innocent smile you could somehow manage and patted his chest. “Do you still think the smell is odd?”

“Yes.” He cornered you between the desk and his body and smiled Not one of the sassy smiles he gave everyone, but a softer and kinder one. Looking at his chest, you knew you would be the one to lose and give in first. It felt irritating, to be so close to him, yet you didn’t dare to touch him.

“Well, shouldn’t you do something about it, then?”

“Me? Why? I can’t even smell anything?” You bit your lip to look more innocent. You couldn’t tell what was going on at that moment, you just knew you wanted to close the remaining distance between the two of you.

You gasped the moment you could feel his surprisingly soft lips press against yours. That gods moved fast was nothing new. But that they kissed you certainly was.

“Wha-?” Your question was being muffled by him intensifying the kiss. Without losing anymore time to think about what you were doing, you wrapped your arm around his neck, pulling him even closer until you felt your chest pressed against his and could smell the soft sweetness of his body. Sweet… somehow it didn’t surprise you, even if sweet wasn’t the first adjective someone would ascribe to Loki. Something in the background shattered but you didn’t care as long as Loki kept kissing and touching you. His hands had found their way to your thighs and he lifted you up onto the table behind you.

“Stop.” You parted and panted, knowing that you probably looked ridiculous with your flushed face and neck. “Is this serious? Are you serious? Or do you just want a quick fuck?”

The silence that followed was way too long but you waited because you wanted an honest answer. Then he looked at you and you could tell that that time he wasn’t lying, or at least he covered it up perfectly.

“I’m serious. I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you here in the laboratory.” His hands rubbed over your thighs up to your hips and stayed there for a while before they slowly slid upwards to your waist. “What about you, (Y/N)? Are you serious?”

“Yes, of course.” You watched his pupils dilate. His eyes were a stunning, sharp green but at the same time they were surprisingly soft and warm. But maybe that was just your imagination.

“How serious?” He smirked and pushed your shirt up a bit until your belly was completely uncovered.

“Hmmm…. That’s an unfair question. But because I’m fair I’m going to answer it: very serious.”

“Are you sure?” His fingers slid under the waistband of your pants.

“Yes.” You whispered expectantly.

“Hmh.” He chuckled and you noticed that it was the first time you really saw him smile. “I’m not convinced. I think you have to prove it.”

Without hurrying he opened your pants and pushed them down slowly, leaving you in just your panties and shirt – you decided to ignore the fact that he had just pushed your pants down to your ankles. You could take care of that later.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.” You whispered and leaned close, smiling softly when you saw him shudder. “Isn’t it enough that I’m here? I’m letting you touch me, don’t I?” You giggled and kissed his cheek.

Loki smirked and spread your legs, slowly and gently rubbing your inner thighs. “You talk too much. But at least you’re smarter than one might think.”

You smiled and kissed him, knowing very well that it was just his way of talking, so you couldn’t even be mad. It was kind of cute even, that he was still trying to convince you – or himself, you weren’t so sure about that – how tough he was and could be. Or he simply wanted to make sure he was the dominant one. But again, you couldn’t read his mind, so you weren’t able to figure out exactly what it was that he wanted. Besides the pretty obvious bulge in his pants of course. You would gladly shut up if that meant you were getting more of him.

The kiss deepened slowly because there was no need to rush or hurry, right? You felt his hand slide under your shirt, cold touches on your heated skin. The soft moan escaped your lips before you could even stop it or think of holding it back.

Loki chuckled and opened your bra, pushing it up a bit to cup your now exposed boobs, gently caressing them. It was a loving and careful touch, the sensation sending goosebumps all over your body. In that moment you knew you could toss your pants away – you wouldn’t need them for a while. They fell to the ground, followed by your shirt and bra, leaving just your panties on your body. It wasn’t embarrassing, being naked in front of him. Instead, it felt good and you liked the way his eyes roamed over your body, making you feel a lot more confident than you usually tended to be. Lokis’ hands slid down to your waist and down to your ass, squeezing your cheeks gently. You let out another soft gasp and pressed back into his touch.

“C’mon, we need to hurry up. I don’t want anyone coming in.” You mumbled against his lips, fumbled his pants open and pushed them down.

“Don’t worry. No one will come in. I took care of that.” The smile on his lips was a very promising one and you bit your lip slightly, expectant for more.

“Good.” You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Loki’s neck again, trusting his magic skills. And most importantly, you trusted him. For a second, he pressed your foreheads together. But he slowly made his way down to your neck and collarbone, biting and nipping, gentle at first but you could feel him grow more impatient the more time passed. Your hips were shoved together and you could literally feel his pulsing heat pressing against your own most sensitive area. Just a thin layer of fabric kept you from feeling his skin on yours. And you wanted to feel it. Your body longed for it, needed it more than anything else at that moment.

You shivered when he sank to his knees in front of you, nuzzling the already soaked area of your panties. It was obvious what he was about to do, however, you just weren’t able to hide your excitement. Your hitched breathing and flushed skin were giving you away easily. He tugged down your panties and kissed your thighs gently, leaving a few small bruises on the way between your legs. You gripped his hair for support and tugged slightly, earning a deep growl from him. “Behave.”

“You’re too slow.” You whined quietly and ran your fingers through his dark hair, applying more pressure and scratching lightly over his scalp. The deep groan you got in return told you he liked it. A lot. “You’re such a tease.”

A low rumble in his chest made you gasp in pleasure because you could feel his lips vibrate against your skin. “Come on, please.” He had pushed you far enough. You wanted to feel him. Now.

“Please what?” He swirled his tongue around your clit, using just enough pressure to make you squirm.

“More! I want more. I want you to fuck me!” Nothing made sense anymore. You had never felt so needy for something, it nearly scared you.

“Oh? But I’m just getting started.” He was smiling and squeezed your thigh.

“Please, Loki! Someone could come in!” You bit your bottom lip. The thought of someone coming in was actually more arousing than frightening. There was a chuckle and then you felt his fingers. No teasing anymore, finally. He was gentle, but seemed a bit more hurried now. Maybe he was also getting impatient, you couldn’t tell for sure. You heard the obscene wet sounds when he pulled his fingers out but they just made you shiver and whine at the loss of them inside you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He leaned up, his low voice rumbling, close to your ear now. “You’ll get what you need.” You felt him shift, pinning you down on the counter with his weight. It was surprisingly satisfying to feel his body on top of yours, pressed close.

He was big. Bigger than you had imagined from the bulge in his pants. And he certainly felt bigger. But it didn’t hurt, it was a pleasant feeling of being filled. You managed to free your arms and wrapped them around his neck for support as he rolled his hips. Every thrust sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, making you gasp and arch your back. You thought you heard him chuckle and realized that you were begging quietly for more. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered besides his hot body, pressed against yours and moving rhythmically. You felt the heat rising way too fast and tried to warn him, but instead of letting you speak he simply captured your lips with his and stifled your moan.

“I love you!” You gasped when you were able to pull away for air. You arched up, the force of your orgasm blurring your vision. You were too distracted by all the sensations and the warmth that spread through your body to hear him mumble a soft “I love you too, (Y/N)”.

Tags: @emyhonny @finney13s @michellearel1 @chameerah @alexakeyloveloki @thisisvangandr 

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know.

[nneefa]

fic: the way you do the things you do

fandom: xiaolin showdown

characters: kimiko/raimundo, omi, clay

summary: there was something unsettling about the bruise on raimundo's face, considering it was meant for her.

notes: i struggled really hard with this, though i had a lot of fun with it. deep, introspective writing is not my forte. regardless, i hope y'all enjoy this. dedicated to @writing-saved-my-life

♡

It was funny how things could still manage to be so lively around the temple, considering what had just transpired not even 24 hours ago.

Living and fighting through two, insanely alternate timelines was certainly one thing, but to turn around and battle against the ‘Unwelcomed Mob of Evil’ - as Dojo had so eloquently phrased it - a second time not even ten minutes after coming out of them was just too much, even for Wudai Warriors. Master Fung, thankfully, had the right mind to give them the rest of the day off. He even dismissed them from their chores, of course, putting it off for the following day. According to him, they’d earned it on account of everything they’d been through. It also helped that they’d sustained more injuries on top of what they already had, but none of them dared complain.

Instead, they fell right back into the swing of things. That was, everyone except for Kimiko.

From her position at the infirmary sink, Kimiko watched Omi flit about Raimundo’s cot with the energy of a four-year-old with a sugar rush. Despite his injuries - a knot the size of a ping pong ball on his head, a split bottom lip, and several scrapes and bruises peppered along his knuckles and arms - Omi still found a way to be energetic.

It almost got on her nerves how easily he seemed to bounce back from all of the madness, especially when she couldn’t find it in herself to do the same, but Kimiko decided not to let it bother her too much. She’d almost forgotten what it looked like to see Omi act like an obnoxious little brother to Raimundo, considering his year-long stint spent antagonizing the older boy and all. Thankfully, Raimundo never took the bait, even when Omi seemed overbearingly harsh, and if he’d felt some type of way about it, he hardly let it show. Knowing him, he probably endured it without a second thought towards the consequences. For the sake of reestablishing trust with his friend. For Omi’s sake.

That was something Kimiko could honestly say got on her nerves: not Raimundo and Omi’s endless back-and-forth banter or the time it took to repair their brotherly relationship, but Raimundo’s ability to dive in head first, regardless of the consequences. To be unconditionally kind to and for others, with no concern for himself, was something Kimiko could not, for the life of her, understand.

Like their tag team showdown against the Forces of Evil.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy with their victory or anything. She’d been just as ecstatic as the rest of the team when Omi rescued Dojo, even finding a way to jump for joy despite the sharp pain in her back. But, now that the high was over and in seeing Raimundo’s condition - the bruise under his eye, his fractured hand, the torn flesh on his arm and back, the seared skin on his chest - Kimiko was finding it increasingly difficult to be grateful about anything. A part of her was moved, touched even, that he’d jumped in on her behalf; however, another part of her was angry with him, furious. Especially when it should’ve been her.

“Oh, pleeease, Raimundo, won’t you tell me what it feels like to be Shoku Warrior?” Omi droned for what ought to be the billionth time in the last hour, snapping Kimiko from her train of thought. “I want to be mooost prepared for when I make my transition from Wudai Warrior!”

Raimundo watched him bounce up and down in front of his bed with mild amusement. “How should I know when it hasn’t even been a day yet?”

But it was as if what he said went in one ear and out the other as Omi continued his rant, holding on to the edge of Raimundo’s bed while he bounced on his toes. "Does power surge from your very body? Can you manipulate the wind, at ease, without the use of your Elemental Shen Gong Wu? Can you break the sound barrier? Can you-

“Omi, slow down!” Raimundo cut him off with a shout.

“Yeah, partner. Breathe,” Clay added, rubbing antiseptic into the grooves of his knuckles. He’d scratched his hand trying to fend off Katnappe, Cyclops and the Chameleon Bot, the first of whom he went out of his way not to harm.

Omi did as he was told and took a deep breath. Only to continue rambling again. Raimundo quickly clamped his good hand over Omi’s mouth and answered him with a grin before he could start. “Honestly, minus the robes, it still feels like I’m a Wudai Warrior, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it. No, yes, and maybe…, I don’t know yet. Now, are you done?”

Omi nodded his head vigorously and pulled Raimundo’s hand from his mouth. “Ooooh,” he chirped excitedly, clamping his hands over his cheeks, careful to avoid the bump on his head. “I cannot wait for my chance to become a Shoku Warrior! I’ll be all this and a box of cookies.”

“Uh, that’s ‘all that and a bag of chips,’ Omi,” Kimiko finally said, maneuvering away from the sink and towards Raimundo’s bed where the shorter boy stood to hand him an ice cap. “And no offense, but I think you should focus a little less on being a Shoku Warrior and more on your injuries.”

“Yeah,” Raimundo agreed with a snicker. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were sprouting a second head.”

“Well, at least I am not bound to my mattress,” Omi jeered with a flush of his cheeks, hiding his knot beneath his ice pack.

“That’s ‘bedbound,’ knucklehead,” Raimundo guffawed, unable to contain himself anymore, causing Omi to go from pink to red.

Before Clay could stop himself, he burst into laughter too. “Now, Rai,” he managed to say between gasps of air, “that was a low blow. Even for you.”

Kimiko tried and failed to hide her own laughter with a strain of her cheeks, knowing that Omi didn’t enjoy being the butt of anyone’s jokes, especially when it came to his head. “Yeah, Raimundo,” she said, coughing in a feeble attempt to mask her giggles. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“Sorry, Omi,” Raimundo immediately apologized, still laughing, though not quite as hard. “I couldn’t resist. I was holding that one in for a minute. No hard feelings, right?”

“None at all, my friend,” Omi huffed, sourly pulling his ice cap away from his head to reveal his bump. The action only made Raimundo erupt into laughter again. Omi looked to Clay with a sharp turn of his head, frowning as he pointedly ignored their newly elected leader. “Come, Clay. I believe it is time for supper.”

“Hoowee! Ain’t that the truth!” the cowboy yipped, slipping off his medical bed to stretch and rub his belly. “I dunno ‘bout y’all, but all this time travelin’ business then done worked up a fella’s appetite. I could eat a horse, I’m so hungry.”

“Yeah, dude that’s gross, but hey, while you’re at it, grab me a plate too,” Raimundo piped in with a wide smile, his amusement finally dying down. “After a long day of kicking evil’s butt, I could use a bite to eat.”

Omi paused just before exiting the infirmary, his hand posted on the threshold of the door, and turned to grace Raimundo with a smirk, a mischievous gleam in his little, brown eyes. “Perhaps, my second head and I will think it over. While we eat.”

Raimundo’s mouth fell open in astonishment. Clay’s hand flew to his mouth as if he’d just heard someone utter a swear word, mirth clear in his blue eye, and he looked, back and forth, between Raimundo’s crestfallen expression and Omi, who’d disappeared down the hall with a smile.

“But- but I’m your leader!” the Shoku Warrior whined.

“In name only!” Omi yelled down the hall playfully.

Raimundo blew out a puff of air, leaning back on his cot with a mock frown. “Ay, you think you know a guy.”

“Sorry, Rai,” Clay chuckled, his apology not even the least bit sincere, though all in good humor. “You got no one to blame but yourself for that one. You comin’, Kimiko?”

Kimiko, who’d been staring at Raimundo’s bandages since the boys’ little exchange, looked up to see Clay watching her. Although his smile appeared relax, even she could see the concern laced in his eye. She bit the inside of her cheek before a sigh could escape her lips, a tinge annoyed at having been caught moping, and graced him with a smile of her own. She wouldn’t put it past Raimundo if he’d noticed her mood either.

“Nah, you go on ahead,” Kimiko told him with a nonchalant wave of her hand. “I’ll join you and Omi in a sec. Just need to tidy up a bit.”

Clay looked from Kimiko to Raimundo for a split second, the barest hint of a smile on his face, before tilting his hat down at them. Kimiko didn’t bother trying to interpret what that meant, as she was sure it’d only make her angry. “Okie dokie. I’ll leave you kind folks to it, then,” he said cryptically and, without another word, left the infirmary.

Raimundo barely allowed a second to pass before he spoke up, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “Alright, girl, out with it.”

Kimiko bristled at his demand, her frown immediate as she turned from where Clay had stood to face Raimundo, who looked nothing short of confused, if not concerned. The urge to ball her fists was fierce, but she held herself back, not wanting to risk reopening the wound on her palm.

“Excuse me?”

Raimundo rolled his eyes, wincing as he sat upright in his bed. “Come on, Kimiko,” he urged, his face softening. “You look worse than Jack after he loses a showdown. You don’t think I noticed the way you’ve been looking at me?”

Heat rose to her cheeks before she could stop herself. Angrily, she asked, “And just what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, girl. You know exactly what I mean,” Raimundo responded exasperately, despite his own blush. “You’ve been looking at me like I died or something. What’s the deal?”

“It’s just that…, well,” Kimiko stumbled, fighting to find the right words to say. She had no intention of beating around the bush with this conversation, but she was finding it very difficult to verbalize her feelings: anger, guilt, worry, gratitude. She’d never felt so many mixed emotions at one time before. In the end, she deflated, gesturing weakly at his condition with a twist of her hand, and softly said, “Look at yourself, Rai.”

He relaxed a little, and gave himself a once over before looking back at Kimiko, his smile as easygoing as ever. “It’s just injuries,” he replied with a shrug, rubbing his wrapped hand. “No big deal. S’not like I haven’t had worse, y’know. Is that why you’re upset?”

Kimiko flared up again, exhaling deeply when she slammed her hands on the guardrail of his bed, startling him. She was pretty sure she just reopened her wound, as her hand throbbed like crazy, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. “Don’t tell me it’s not a ‘big deal!’ How can you smile like that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed?”

“Whoa, Kim, easy,” he said good-naturedly, holding up his hands in a placating manner. “I just smile. You should try it sometime.”

“This isn’t funny, Raimundo,” Kimiko snapped, glaring at him. His easygoing nonchalance was really starting to grate her nerves. “I’m being serious.”

“I never said it was,” he countered with a glare of his own, though his wasn’t quite as fierce as hers. “So what if I got a few bumps and bruises? At least we won. You’re acting like that’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing when you almost die doing it!” she blurted, wincing when she finally pulled her hand away from his bed rail. It was bleeding. As if on autopilot, Raimundo reached towards her, green eyes filled with concern, and Kimiko jerked back, clutching her hand to her chest like a lifeline. “Don’t, Rai! Just... don't, okay?! I didn’t ask for your help!”

Raimundo blinked at her, wide-eyed, hand frozen in midair. He watched her carefully with a furrowed brow, eventually letting his hand drop in his lap, but he didn’t say anything. Kimiko took it as a sign to continue.

“I- I could’ve taken them myself. I could’ve taken all four of them, if I wanted,” she repeated matter-of-factly. Her eyes burned, but whether it was from anger or tears, she didn’t know; however, she decided she didn’t care. All she knew was that if she didn’t get the words out now, she never would. “But then you had to go and play hero, and now look at you. You got hurt because of me. Did you do it because you took pity on me? Huh, is that it? Or was it because I’m a girl?”

“Where do you even get this stuff from?” Raimundo sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Earth to Kimiko. Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to see you get hurt? Hannibal and his goons crowded you. I wasn’t gonna sit there and watch it happen, not without doing something about it. So, I jumped in.”

Kimiko opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off, the look in his eye firm, but gentle. Her heart beat just a little bit faster than normal, but she decided to ignore it.

“And I would’ve done the same thing, no matter who it was, whether it was you, Clay, or Omi. You guys are my friends.” He paused to flash her a toothy grin. “And I don’t regret it either. That’s just the kinda person I am, Kim.”

Raimundo’s smile was so infectious that Kimiko found herself returning it. She took a deep breath, the guilt she’d been feeling since earlier easing away like a dying flame. “You do know there’s a difference between being kind and reckless, right, Raimundo? One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed over it.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t say things like that,” Raimundo protested in a lighthearted tone. “Master Fung said the same thing. Sooo, what?" he asked after a beat, offering her a smile. "We cool?”

Kimiko wanted so much to punch his arm, to elbow him or something, but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate, considering he was injured. So, she did the next best thing.

She hesitated at first, but she sat on the edge of his bed and reached out to him, ignoring the strange, fluttering sensation in her stomach, and wrapped her arms around him, careful to avoid his injured back. She felt Raimundo go ramrod straight beneath her, but he relaxed almost instantly, returning her hug with a squeeze of his own.

“Yeah, we’re cool,” she answered, but then she pulled back to fix him with a stern look, her hands resting on his shoulders. “But don’t you ever do anything like that again.” She jammed a finger against his collar bone with every word to emphasize her point.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Raimundo said with a grin.

Kimiko knew that it was hot air. He’d do it, without hesitance, every single time. That was just the kind of person he was, no matter how much he tried to hide it. It was his finest quality, after all.

She nodded her head, quickly sliding off his bed before things could get anymore awkward. There was something about the look in his eye that made her feel weird. “Good. ’Cause next time, I’ll kick your butt myself if you do.”

Raimundo made a noise at that. “Whatever. Just go take care of your hand already.”

“Don’t push it, Rai,” Kimiko threatened him as she made her way to the medical supply cabinet for the first aid kit. “Oh, and Raimundo?”

“Yeah, Kim?”

She faced him fully, med kit clenched tight in her hands. She seemed to look everywhere but at him, hiding behind the kit before she took a deep breath, cheeks dusted a light pink. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “Y’know, for jumping in and all.” She grit her teeth, embarrassed, before looking him square in the eye. “It might not mean that much to you, but what you did, well, it really means a lot. So, thanks.”

With that, she hurriedly left the infirmary for the dining hall. Had she stayed just a little bit longer, she'd have seen Raimundo bury his face in his knees, face gone red.

[homesteadchronicles]

OC Song Tag

My newfound friend @merigreenleaf recently tagged me to participate in the “OC Song Tag”! For anyone unaware, if you are tagged in this game, you are asked to choose a song that correlates to each of your OC’s. You can explain why, include relevant lyrics, whatever your heart so chooses.

I will be tagging some newfound followers of mine, so that I can learn more about your babes: @duggarsetal, @tamaravonb, and @fallaciousopuscule! Feel free to participate or ignore - this is simply an invitation!

Word of warning: most of these will come directly from their character playlists! You can listen to each of these playlists by clicking the characters’ names!

Royan Godewine: Broken Crown (Mumford and Sons) The image alone should explain why this song is so fitting for Royan. Think of a crown broken in two halves: Royan and Sigrid, two royals vying for the Frozen Throne, or Royan and Medea, two Shepherds seeking to save the world.

This song really emphasizes the feel has towards his roles as prince and Shepherd. By that, I mean, he doesn’t want them. At all. He doesn’t want the crown. He cannot bear the weight of it, or so he thinks. He cannot believe that someone like him could ever be a “chosen one”. While Royan generally only shows his happy-go-luck side, this song portrays his inner turmoil throughout the series.

Oeden Halflife: Bird Set Free (Sia) If you don’t understand the connection, read literally anything I’ve posted about Oeden. The first book features his desire to escape from assumed imprisonment within Aeonor - and he will risk anything to get out once and for all through the so-called “right” means. In Aeonor, Oeden has lost himself, lost his life (thus the surname). He believes that, once released, he will begin to come alive again and find himself, find his song. He does not care what the world thinks of him, or what he will one day sing. He does not care what the world makes of his prophecies - his “songs” to the world and to the Sealed God. He just wants to be free. Also, yes, his pet, Eon, played a part in choosing this.

Medea Brahim: I Am the Fire (Halestorm) What could encapsulate Medea’s personality more than Halestorm? For those painfully unaware of the insane talent that is Lzzy Hale, Halestorm manages to capture all of the angst of punk/rock/metal and channel it through pure rage-fueled scream-singing. “I Am the Fire” is a song describing how Lzzy feels as though she is the very answer she has sought her entire life. Medea feels the same. She has sought a savior, as her people had. And then, all of a sudden, she discovers that she is a “Shepherd”, destined to lead the world. She does not need a god that abandoned them. She only needs herself. I had other songs that instilled this same sense of self-made justice, but the power of Lzzy’s voice - and the religion-inspired lyrics - really fit Medea and the themes of Kingdom Come.

Farukh (Slave #413): The Resistance (Skillet) Really, any song about rebellion works for Farukh: Knights of Cydonia, Uprising, Reapers, Prayer of the Refugee, you name it, it probably works. Especially Muse. Similar to Halestorm, Skillet has this raw sense of fury in their voices. However, whereas Halestorm is just an untamed wildfire, Skillet is contained, focused. Thus, the difference between Farukh and Medea, at first. Farukh has a clear goal, a clear enemy, a clear plan...even if the methods are more chaotic. Having John Cooper as the voice only helped enforce the point.

As opposed to the other potential options, I really liked the militant focus of this song. It’s not just about Farukh as a soldier and slave, although that’s important. But Farukh is not solely about himself. Revolutions are about bodies of people, not just their leaders. The first line - “I am a nation, I am a million faces” - emphasizes this notion perfectly. Farukh is simply representative of the entire nation of slaves in revolt. It’s not only personal to his problems or opinions.

Kasumi of the Shadows: In the Shadows (The Rasmus) While the “feel” of this song does not perfectly suit Kasumi, the lyrics most certainly do. Kasumi’s storyline focuses heavily on the tension between tradition and change. You have her royal parents and the civilized folk of her kingdom telling her to serve in the shadows. They want her to do the dirty work so that their kingdom can seem pristine. Meanwhile, Kasumi feels pulled towards the barbarian lifestyle that the royals reject so fervently. You can see this difference portrayed in the verses “they say I need to kill before I can feel safe”, referring to her role as an assassin, vs. “sometimes I feel like I should go and play with the thunder”. Kasumi feels like she has been “waiting in the shadows” her whole life for an answer. Which Shepherd is the true one? Which path in life is the right one? Which side should she take? And now, the time has come to decide.

There’s an additional aspect I want to touch on. The song has a surprisingly emotional interlude when the singer says “watching, waiting for someone; feel me, touch me, heal me”, etc. As Kasumi is not one for physical touch, this might seem strange at first. But Kasumi desperately desires to find a savior, both for herself and for the world. It’s why she accepts her mission to find the true Shepherd. Personally, she wants someone to see her behind her mask and to rescue her from this life. She wants someone to see more than just a shadow

Carmila Ramos: Brick by Boring Brick (Paramore) Believe it or not, this is the song that formed the basis of Carmila’s concept. Carmila’s theme is “a fairytale life in a tragic reality”. Carmila’s storyline starts in the fantasy of regaining her nobility with her husband as her “(Merchant) Prince Charming” and getting to spend the rest of her life in luxury...only for everything to fall apart. That fairytale she worked so hard for? Destroyed. The reader can only hope that Carmila knows how to cope with it all. Spoiler alert: not always! This is the journey we see the character in Brick by Boring Brick take - a girl with an unrealistic dream whose castle comes crashing down and decides to destroy the fairytale in the end. There is no more perfect song for her story.

Solomon: Heretics and Killers (Protest the Hero) By far, I had the hardest time picking songs for Solomon...thus why his playlist is, as of now, not yet complete. He’s a very complex character, one with themes and morals and ideals that are not exactly put to song often enough. This song, however, depicts him almost perfectly. Solomon sees himself as this Christ-like figure: uniting the world, sacrificing of himself for their sake, etc. But his efforts have only led to divide the world further. His attempts to save them have instead doomed them all. With all of the religious themes in Kingdom Come - especially in Solomon’s storyline - I felt that the imagery in this song suited the tension within Solomon between his state as an attempted Messiah and his innate unholiness.

[ladieslovingladiesandfics]

I Burn (All Those I Touch)

Anon asked: Can you write a story about Shield rescuing reader from being used any longer as a Hydra weapon because their telekinetic ability and fighting skills. Hydra has had reader since they were a toddler and don't even use her real name just a number. Now that they're free they escape Shield and start hunting/killing all Hydra in a form of revenge am while running from Shield. ( I couldn't fit it all in 500 so (1/2)

The team has to stop her as she’s becoming dangerous and more unstable, then during a blur of bloodlust and insanity from reader Jemma stops them with words and just a hug because they had grown to like each other deeply while reader was in containment (This the rest I couldn’t fit hehe (2/2) HEY AND I HOPE YOU’RE HAVING AN AWESOME DAY NOOT NOOT, I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH

Awww babes thanks! I’m sorry this took so damn long to write! I hope ya like it!

Like I said, I’m gonna change the powers and other things because:

A.) I’m listening to RWBY soundtracks and I had ideas

B.) I read some faerytales, playing some games, and had....ideas....lots of ideas.....

C.) Make it sound less like Stockholm Syndrome and give Reader and Jemmy more moments of sweet stuff ya know?

Warning: Blood, angst, gay shit, Jemmy being Jemmy, death, gore, etc. This is horrible I’m so sorry.

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

There was no such thing as a happy ever after for you.

You who had been with HYDRA since you were young, you who was cursed, you who could control the fire like it was art, you who was raised to be a weapon, and you…who was a monster.

But this was fine.

This was fine.

Because Jemma was not here; and she cannot see you and your ugliness.

“Welcome to the team, Y/N.” Coulson smiles, a badge in his hand, outstretched to you.

You blink, staring down at the palm and the badge, shyly taking the piece of metal, shaking his hand as well. You smile a tiny but fond smile. “It’s good to be here, Coulson.”

“See, Y/N, I told you he’d agree to have you on our team!” Jemma brings you into an embrace, the widest smile upon your lips. “I knew you weren’t a bad person, no matter what HYDRA has done to you.”

Your lips tug into an even wider smile, while Daisy and Fitz share a knowing look between them. She was so small, so tiny, a kind girl, she didn’t deserve to be here…or near you. “Thanks Simmons.”

Her smiles becomes brighter, and her hands finds yours, holding them tightly in hers. “As your handler, I promise that we will find a cure for your curse. I promise.”

Oh…oh how wish you it could be true.

The crimson copper dots your fangs, the taste oh so thrilling, you lick your lips, sitting against a wall in a lone alley, eyes closed as you think.

HYDRA deserved to die. They did so many horrible things to you, to your family…

To Jemm- Simmons. Miss Simmons.

You couldn’t forgive them. Not now. Not ever.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

You perk up to the sound of the familiar biochemist, a tray in her hands and a kind smile upon her lips. “I brought you breakfast .” A simple but hearty one, with your favorite warm beverage in a steaming mug.

You groan, sitting up in your bed, rubbing your sore head. Ow. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours, you were exhausted during the night. Snoring up a storm, Y/N.” she places the tray on the side table, pulling up a chair to sit by you. “How are you feeling? You seem sore.” She hands you the mug first, and you sip it, letting out a sigh of happiness and relief. “May didn’t rough you up too much did she?”

You blink, staring up at Jemma with doe eyes and shake your head. “Nope. I just hope she’s alright…my…my powers didn’t hurt her, did they?” because you were worried you burnt her.

“What? No! May is just fine.” Jemma answers with a kind smile. “Her burns are healing and they were only minor, she’s up and tossing around with new agents as we speak. We can go visit her if you like.” Oh sweet and oh so kind, you didn’t deserve her. You can’t be here, because you were a monster. A tool. A weapon.

You needed to leave.

But with every smile she gives you, every laugh you two share, every ounce of her heart that she gives you…it becomes harder and harder to leave.

“We’ll find her, Simmons.” Daisy places a hand on Jemma’s shoulder, squeezing it. “We’ll find her, we’ll bring her home.”

The doctor wipes the tears from her eyes, turning to her best friend. “It’s my fault.” She weeps. “If…if I was strong I could have prevented this.” And seeing the bodies, charred and eaten alive…it sickened her. What drove Y/N to do this? How could she have let this happen?! She was your handler! The person who was going to help you find a cure for your affliction, and yet she let this happened!

It all fell upon her.

She should have been more careful.

She should have protected you more.

“Y/N?” Jemma heard muffled screams from your room, rushing over as fast as her legs could carry her, ICER in hand. “Y/N!” she calls out for you again. Without hesitation she opens the door, seeing you clutch your chest in agony, tossing and turning on the bed.

It hurts.

It was like the fires were burning you, your heart, and it may give out.

“Y/N! Y/N! Talk to me!” the pistol falls, and her hands are on your shoulders, trying to stop you from shaking and screaming. “Y/N! I’m right here! Tell me what is wr-“ the tattoo on your bare chest, right over your heart. No! Jemma! This was not the time to be distracted!

A rose, but covered with thorns. Strange, that wasn’t always there. What’s worse….it was glowing.

“Y/N! Stop! I’m right here! I’m here to help you!” Jemma takes your body into an embrace, holding you close against her chest. “I’m here, I’m here, it’s me, Jem-“ she screams the minute her back hits the wall, cold and hot at the same time. She stares up to you, your eyes which told untold agony, and sees your hand against the tattoo, hiding it from her. “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry, Jemma. I’m so sorry.” You press your lips to hers, fleeting and passionate. You grab your shirt and jacket, and leave.

Jemma slides down the wall, the scent of charred paper and wood tickling her nostrils. She touches her lips in horror, eyes wide. What just happened?

“Y/N!”

No!

Jemma stands in front of you, between you and the exit, ICER in hand, and tears in her eyes. Anger. Relief. All in between. She was glad to see you. A smile upon her tear stained face, she steps closer, and you step back. “I’ve missed you.”

NO!

“Jemma you need to leave!” your hand shoots up to your chest, it burns. The thorns dig into your heart, heating up and searing your body with pain. Flames lick at your skin, and you growl, unearthly, beastly. “Jemma, get out of here!”

“No! I’m not leaving you!” Two steps closer, five steps backwards. “You disappeared on us twice already, just…just please,” her voice was cracking. “Please, come back home.”

You shake your head, and your chest burns. “I can’t…I’m sorry.” And you run, jump, hiding yourself once more.

Jemma cries.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

Her screams, Jemma’s screams, they cause your heart to scald and scorch even harder than before. You watch her blood drip down on to the floor, the HYDRA agent (your former handler, what the fuck was his name?) with a knife in hand, smirking. He was having the time of his life torturing her. The woman you cared for. Your current handler.

“I swear to you now I will kill you! I will fucking kill you, you crazy asshole!” you struggle against your binds, as the man laughs, digging a knife deeper into Jemma’s skin. Screams ring in your ears and you growl. “STOP!”

Chains crack, a section of the wall rips apart and you leap upon the man like an animal. Your fangs dig into his neck, blood surging out of the wound and you tear off his skin like it was wrapping paper on a present. No one, hurts Jemma.

No one.

“Y/N?” Frightened, tired, scared. You heard all of those emotions from her.

You glance up at her, tears in her eyes, fear accenting them. You spit out the piece of flesh and with the gentlest of hands, you rip Jemma’s cuffs apart. “Good bye.” And run.

“Jemma get down!” A beast was sent flying into the wall, crashing through cement as Elena runs by, grabbing the scientist and bringing her to safety.

Half eaten corpses lay on the ground, all from the beast itself.

It was big, bigger than all of the women combined. It stood tall like a man, but switched to a four-gaited dash. Eyes blood red, a lioness but with flames licking her maw and jaw and claws. A monster.

“What did it do to Y/N?” whispers Daisy, gearing up for another vibrational blast.

“I don’t know, but we need to get out of here, it’s not safe.” The Colombian says, protecting the biochemist with her own body.

A glint of silver, a pair of wide brown eyes, and Jemma chokes out with a sob, “Y/N?”

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” Jemma holds out a present to you, which you stare down at, like it was a bomb or something. “What? You don’t like it? How can you tell without opening it?”

“…Is this for me?” You point at yourself in confusion, cocking your head to the side. “No it’s for Daisy.” Sarcastically remarks the woman. “Of course it’s for you, I mean I’m giving it to you and it has your name on it.” Sure enough, the tag had your name on it.

To: Y/N

From: Jemma

You cautiously take the present from her, gingerly untying the ribbon and stare down at the small black box. Opening it you see a necklace, a small and simple silver chain with a locket on it. You open it and gasp, tears filling your eyes.

Your parents. The parents that were killed by the witch who cursed you at birth. The parents you never got to see again.

There were here, and that was their photo.

“Where? How? When?!” you hug the scientist before she gets a word out, and she laughs, hugging her back.

“I had Daisy help me find your family. We got a photo and I bought the necklace.” She answers, holding you tighter against her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you, Jemma. Thank you so much.” You cry into her shoulder, staining the fabric.

“Anything for you, Y/N. Anything for you.” She lets you go, smiling. “Now come on! We have a party to attend!”

“How the hell do you know it’s Y/N?” demands Elena. “It’s a giant lion thing on fire and it’s eating

people!”

“The necklace, I gave it to her.” Answers the scientist, hanging her ICER over to the speedy Inhuman, walking forward with bare hands. The Inhumans prepare themselves to get her out of there.

“Y/N. It’s you isn’t it?” she asks, holding out her hands to you. The closer she comes, the hotter it grows, and she feels sweat beading down her forehead. It was hot to touch the air, her skin was boiling. It was beyond painful.

But she would travel through hell just for you.

The beast growls, flame-covered tail flickering with anger. Gentle hands touch the cheeks of the now paralyzed beast, like it knew her. It hurts. The skin burns her, and Jemma? She only smiles through the pain. “Let’s go home, Y/N. I’m not afraid of you.” Her clothes become singed as she embraces you, tears evaporating the minute they appear. “I love you, Y/N. I accept you, and I will always be beside you.”

The heat dies, and a woman stands there, eyes wide and tears falling, mouth stained with blood…but there she was.

Y/N.

Jemma smiles, kissing your cheeks. “I’d kiss you on your lips but you have blood in them.”

You only laugh and cry at the same time, shaking your head. “I’ll brush my teeth extra this time…I promise.” You hug back, burying your face into her shoulder.

“Let’s go home, Y/N.”

“Okay…Jemma.”