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monstersdownthepath · 7 months ago

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Herald of Calistria: The Menotherian

CR 15

Chaotic Neutral Large Outsider

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 280

Calistria's greatest agent and one of her most potent assassins, the Menotherian is almost always on one mission or errand or another in the Material Plane, and is noted to be "completely bereft of morals," a terrifying sentence when used to describe a normal human being, let alone when describing a 14ft-long parasitic wasp with incredible intelligence, immense wisdom, and superhuman charisma. There is no creature the Menotherian would not trick, seduce, or outright murder at her goddess' command (including Calistrians), and the trail of bodies and ruined lives she leaves in the wake of her missions are awe-inspiring even for the likes of Norgorber's career killers (which is why the two gods get along so well). Far from a direct warrior like any of the Heralds we've seen so far this month, the Menotherian is a spy and assassin of almost unrivaled proficiency, not only having raw skill to spare, but a myriad of magic and resources at her disposal which assures there are few targets truly beyond her reach, no matter how protected they believe themselves.

About the only "mercy" one can expect in regards to this vicious vespidae is that she is explicitly a tool of vengeance and is only ever loosed in retaliation to harm being done to Calistria and/or her faithful... but this is a cold comfort to anyone in the line between Point A (where the Menotherian first arrives on the plane) and Point B (the objective marker), because unlucky souls in that path are free game for her to exploit and ensorcel in whatever manner she believes will get her to her goal. While she won't go out of her way to cause any undue death and destruction (if only out of pragmatism), you can safely bet that anyone who holds any ability, information, or resource which would get her closer to her goal will have her talons (literal or metaphorical) dug into them (literally or metaphorically) before they even realize she's in the room.

It all starts with a strangely alluring elf walking through the door, an elf with a curious air about them which makes people trust them for a reason they can't quite place...

The Menotherian's first and most dangerous tool is her deceptive Alluring Scent, a toxin that lowers inhibitions and makes even the most jaded loners open up. The scent works no matter what form the wasp woman is in, wafting 30ft out from her in every direction and forcing anyone who catches a whiff of it to make a DC 25 Fortitude save or have their mood towards the big bug adjust one step closer to friendly. Not only is there no 24 hour immunity clause on this ability, it stacks with itself; anyone who remains in the aura or who exits and re-enters must make the save once per minute to avoid having their attitudes adjusted another step towards friendly, allowing the Menotherian to gradually control the moods of anyone she lingers near until they're head-over-heels for her.

She doesn't even have to speak, just be closeby and let her aroma do all the work! But if she's in a hurry, she's got Suggestion 5/day to either command someone to keep close enough for her scent to take hold of their minds, or to advance her own agenda with little difficulty. You'd think she'd have Charm Person at her disposal, but between her Alluring Scent and her +23 to all three of the main Face skills, she's practically got it built in whenever she speaks. Her Suggestion is actually the ONLY direct manipulative spell she has, with the rest of her magic either aiding in direct subtlety, her spy efforts, or in combat.

She's able to passably masquerade as a cleric, even of another faith if she must, able to use Cure Moderate Wounds and Remove Disease 5/day, along with Neutralize Poison and Dispel Magic both at will. While most of these spells DO have use for her (though she's immune to both disease and poison), they're MUCH more useful in securing favors from others, exchanging cures for what ails someone for information or some form of assistance. If there are no problems, she can easily make some, because spell-likes have no components and thus no one can easily spot she's the one suddenly responsible for an Summon Swarm erupting from nearby, or a heavy object suddenly falling onto someone (via Telekinesis), or if a sudden sting from an unusual wasp causes some incredible muscular pain that only this gorgeous knockout of an elf that came from nowhere can help with...

Crushing Despair may not seem like a social spell, but if you and your buddies are suddenly feeling sad enough to, say, have a -2 penalty to all your saves, and then this GORGEOUS knockout of an elf comes walking in promising to make you feel better (by dispelling it), well... It becomes much more difficult to ignore her requests, even when they begin getting less innocuous and more pointed, more determined. And if you resist, you may find yourself under her Suggestion spell and forced to, or worse: outright Mind Controlled.

This dangerous ability is one of her most potent tools available but also one of her most overt, as to use it, she must... well, the book says "inject her scent" into the brain of a willing or helpless creature, but there's no mention of how or via which orifice, so for the sake of your sanity and mine I choose to believe it's a deep, almost uncomfortably lengthy kiss. Since a target can be willing OR helpless, she can use it on targets she's knocked out with some form of damage, victims she's taken hold of with her allure or her magic, or creatures she's had bound by minions she's already gotten under her thrall. A DC 25 Fortitude save resists this overt control, but there's no stated limit to the number of times she can do it, so a victim may just be smooched until their brain melts away and they become her servant for the day.

Once the chemical cocktail takes hold, victims are Dominated for 24 entire hours, forced to follow the wasp's verbal commands as perfectly as they can. Though this effect is potent, it does require her to be nearby... unless she gives a thorough instruction beforehand, sending her new wind-up soldier off and out of sight. Since she's able to do this to as many helpless or willing targets as she can gain access to, and victims become more willing the longer they're around her... well, things just look worse and worse for whatever her objective is.

Honestly, to any party trying to combat her, the most frustrating bit may be trying to get through her enthralled minions and avoiding becoming said minions in the first place. If a battle breaks out between her pawns and the party, she can Teleport 5/day and Dimension Door at-will besides (both of which are good for infiltration missions but great as escape tools), likely leaving parties frustrated until they can Dimensional Lock her down and force her into battle.

At which point, y'know, now they have to deal with a gigantic wasp. A wasp likely surrounded by more wasps via Summon Swarm or Insect Plague. So uh, RIP to the entomophobic party members?

The Menotherian's full combat form is basically exactly what you'd expect, with the surprising exception of her lacking both Flyby Attack or a reasonable fly speed, as she CAN fly 50ft a round, but only poorly. This is a ground-bound wasp, and she's got to get uncomfortably close to her victims to actually harm them, because despite being a Large creature she possesses only 5ft of reach. This is somewhat mitigated by her Step Up feat letting her follow people trying to get away, but getting out of her reach still cuts her offense down considerably. She's got a CCB (1d6+9 and 1d8+9), but you may correctly surmise that her most dangerous attack is the stinger the length of a man's arm, which deals 2d8+9 damage and injects victims with a poison that deals 1d3 Dex damage a round for up to 6 rounds. Hey, you know what happens when you run out of Dexterity? Helplessness! And thus you become open to Mind Control.

Yes, having control over someone at 0 Dex doesn't seem useful, but such a victim can still speak and tell the Menotherian everything she wants to know. An especially useful target can also receive her 1/day Heal, regaining 140 HP and clearing off a lengthy list of debuffs, including ability score damage. Though she's more likely to save it for herself, having no Fast Healing and being terribly vulnerable to any status ailment that can sneak past her 26 SR, holding a Heal over someone suffering from any (or multiple) status ailments the spell automatically cures is some pretty extreme leverage.

And speaking of leverage, how does "stand down or your ally dies a horrifying death" sound? Because for special occasions when subtlety is no longer possible and maximum chaos is required, the Menotherian can Implant a cluster of horrifically swift-hatching eggs into the body of any creature she strikes with her sting once per day. A DC 25 Fortitude save is all that stands between that victim and outright death, because once implanted, victims are nauseated for 2d4 rounds, rendered basically useless as the eggs sap their strength. Once those rounds pass, the eggs hatch and the victim dies outright as a Chaotic Neutral Hellwasp Swarm emerges from the clutch and infests the victim's corpse, turning it into a puppet for the Menotherian. This gruesome death sentence is her preferred execution method, but if her life is in enough danger, she'll use it as an emergency negotiation tool; once a victim is Implanted with the egg clutch, only swift and bloody surgery (a DC 30 Heal check) or a disease-curing spell will destroy the eggs... and guess what this massive wasp just so happens to have access to? Five or six times a day, even? Best choose your next few actions and words very carefully.

The new Hellwasps aren't temporary, either. Not only will they join in the current fight to add yet another source of Dexterity damage (and another danger when hitting 0 Dex), but the swarm will continue to exist long after the Menotherian moves on to other prey, potentially making life worse for everyone in the area until a party arrives with one of these on their belt. No, it won't work on the big bug herself; she's immune to poison, remember? You're going to need a really, really big swatter... preferably, one that can pierce her DR 15/Lawful.

As both a side note and a closing note, I find it amusing that she has a minor 10 points of Resistance to Fire and Electricity, which becomes outright snicker-inducing when you consider her immunity to poison and at-will Dimension Door. You are NOT getting rid of this wasp with Raid, aerosol flamethrowers, bug zappers, OR paper+cups!

You can read more about her here.

#monster spotlight #CR 11 to 15 #Misfits and Monitors Month #insect #wasp #pathfinder #dungeons and dragons

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erinawritesheadcanons2 · 2 years ago

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Hello, could we have headcanons for Knockout with a human s/o? ❤️+🔪

Knockout, Breakdown, Airachnid with Human Assassin S/O

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A/N: Hello there Anon, I hope you do not mind that I am adding Airachnid and Breakdown for the headcanon. Also, I hope you don't mind with some gore, violence, and profanities because let's face it. Almost all of the Decepticons are violent and they are not human-friendly like Autobot.

Gender: Neutral

Warning: Profanities, Gore and Violence.

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Knockout

Because Knockout is a Decepticon and if you have seen the clip he was going to mutilate Smokescreen, you know Knockout is a huge sadist and not like other medics.

Knockout will love learning about human anatomy and if he's a human. He would definitely kidnap tons of people just for his science project.

I can see he finds your job interesting, especially since you are an assassin. He also thinks you're kind of job is hot, he often watches those action movies where Assassin do many tricks.

He does think you are badass like those assassins in the movies. Knockout also gonna ask you about your job like what kind of weapon you use to kill people. How did you not get caught by the police yet?

Literally thinks if you are an assassin, you are wearing revealing clothing from the movie WHICH IS NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL. He would ask you if you wear those kinds of clothes and you had to explain not all assassins wear revealing clothes.

In his human form, sometimes would help you make those dangerous chemical liquids or poisons for you to use in case you need a weapon that cannot be discovered by the police.

Also sometimes helping you clean your choice of weapons and sanitise them from any fingerprints in case you forgot to wear your gloves after murdering someone.

Knockout might be a deception but he is definitely your biggest supporter if he knows that you are an assassin. Especially if you are an assassin that can hack into a system, definitely simping you like there is no tomorrow.

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The sounds of the siren blaring in the night as there are tapes surrounding the room from the small apartment. Inside the room, there are two bodies laying on the floor one of them has foam coming out from the guy's mouth. The first victim is an old man with thick, light grey coloured hair that is styled back and a pair of thick eyebrows.

The second victim was covered with her own blood with a bullet piercing through her abdomen and her chest. The girl has straight, mid-back-length black hair with long bangs as well as a pair of lilac eyes that are wide open. No one knows who was the murderer behind the grandpa and the granddaughter.

But what the police were not aware of is a pair of (E/C) eye colours that are watching from far away with a pair of binoculars as the police still investigating the murder scene. (Y/N) (L/N) could not help but scoff in amusement seeing the polices still searching for her/him/them.

(Y/N)'s phone suddenly rings out of nowhere and they/her/she immediately picks it up, presses the green button and places the screen of the phone near (Y/N)'s mouth to speak to the caller behind it. "Sweetspark, is your mission going well?" A sound of a certain red Decepticons purrs from the phone. "Yeah, the poison that you made for me works really fast. That old man immediately went to hell," you said.

It was silent for a moment but soon there were sounds of deep rumbling laughter from behind the phone. Knockout was amused with your answer, proud that you hadn't been caught by the police that you just murdered two people in one night. "Good job, sweetspark. Do you need anything once you go back? "I forgot to wear my gloves. Could you sanitize my weapon and make me a new chemical stuff again for me to kill other people?" You ask. "Right away, princess/prince/sweetspark~" and the call ended there.

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Breakdown

Breakdown is a lowkey sadist and not as sadist as Knockout. I know you would say I'm wrong because he likes to swing his hammer around and he likes to destroy stuff.

I'm saying this if he only gets the satisfaction of killing when using his hammer or with the action but operating humans and squashing them with his feet or mutilating them? He is disgusted.

He does think your job is cool too, like Knockout but he only gets interested in the action, like 'So...how do you kill your target? Do you use a knife or....use a gun?'

In his holoform (In the human version), definitely have a grabby hand and would try all of your weapons, even the smallest one and ask you how to use them.

Let him use the weapon but guide him. If you don't let him, definitely going to be super annoyed at you and then give you the silent treatment like a kid.

I can see he does watch those action movies where there is a cool assassin together with Knockout when he had his free time in there but unlike knockout. He's just interested in the method of the killer on how killing their target

Breakdown also would love to help you but instead in the background like Knockout. He would help you in action to kill another human.

Also helping you as he uses a disguise to lure the target with his holoform before so you had more time or a chance to kill the target and help you hide inside of him when he is in his alt form.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

The stars decorate the sky as well as the moon and the lights that decorate the city. Even though it was midnight, the city is as still as lively with many people going home from their working place or going to the bar to enjoy the blaring sound and move their bodies around to the beat of the song.

A young teenager with messy, almost spiky black hair that appears to grow backwards and flow upward could be seen walking in the alleyway and a cigarette in his mouth. His dull green eyes did not see another person standing close to him with a pair of (E/C) eye colours as well as Yellow eye colour from far away.

The male quickly throws the cigarette away as he feels the smoke from the cigs stuck inside of his throat and expectorates the remains, feeling bitter because of the small object. A pair of large hands is placed on top of the man's shoulder, making the young teenager looks up to see Breakdown's holoform.

"Hey ya, buddy. You should be careful in here," Breakdown's gruff voice could be heard.

"Piss off. What the fuck do you need," the young boy glares at Breakdown.

"Hey, no need to be rude. I'm just doing a favour for you because if you turn around. There is someone dangerous.." Breakdown points with his index finger.

Once the young teenager turns around, the last thing he sees was a pair of (E/C) eyes and a wicked smile across his face. Since the two of them are deep in the alleyway, no one heard the sound of a bat hitting the person's head as blood began spewing out from the person's head and lay on the cold concrete floor.

(Y/N) looks up at Breakdown's holoform before they/her/she places their/her/his arm around him and pulls Breakdown closer into your embrace. "Thanks, for helping me kill him, sweet spark. I will tell my boss that I did the job." "It was no problem, I'm just glad I can see you in action~" The corner of Breakdown's lips tugged upwards as he tightened his arms around you.

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Airachnid

Hooo boy, good luck with having a bigger sadist as your romantic partner. Airachnid is much worse than Knockout and Breakdown so you had to be on your feet every second.

Airachnid definitely thinks your job is not only fascinating but also very useful for her cause. Especially if you are an assassin that can hack into any computer system.

Would often ask you for your help to hack into the Nemesis system when you had some free time or watch you stabbing your target with such fascination.

In her holoform or in her human form, she would definitely ask you if she can borrow the corpse that you just stab with like it was nothing before bringing the corpse into her lab.

Airachnid definitely going to run several tests and mutilate the corpse like it was nothing, she's not disturbed at all. Nope, it's actually you who got disturbed by her weird fetish with a dead body.

Well dating her as an assassin has also had its own perks despite it being really disturbing. She would definitely help you kill your target because of how silent she is as the target would get tortured in the most gruesome way in the action as she hides in the shadows as the target are unaware she is near.

Definitely lets you borrow her weapon when you need to kill someone and thinks it was hot as she watches you kill somebody else without mercy.

She definitely helps in the back and also in the action whenever you two need to kill a certain target. Tho, you cannot always trust her because she only helps you if you do what she wants in exchange.

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It was peaceful in the forest and the only sounds inside of the wilderness are the sound of the frogs as well as the crickets. However, that peace and silence did not last long enough until there was the sound of a footstep running with a raging breath coming out from the scared old woman.

The woman has wavy chest-length ash-blonde hair that is tied in braided into a ponytail and a pair of hazel eyes. It was hard for her to keep running away from the certain person with (E/C) eye colour and (H/C) Hair colour who would always be hidden among the darkness and the shadows.

"HELP!!! ANYONE, PLEASE HELP ME!" The woman squeaks in fear and continues running away.

The girl did not have enough strength and not seeing the small rock in front of her, causing the woman to trip and fall over. It was so painful that the girl screams in pain, holding her twisted and bleeding ankles. Her eyes would look around, trying to find anything that can help her to get away from a certain killer.

The ground suddenly shook plus with a booming sound next to the old woman. This causes the woman to look up immediately to see a giant robot that has an appearance like a giant spider as well as a pair of lavender eyes with magenta armour. On her servo, there are certain people with (E/C) eye colour and (H/C) hair colour grinning at their/her/his next victim. "Found you..." you said.

The forest was immediately surrounded by the sound of anguish from the certain old blonde woman and the ground was surrounded by the blood of the dying woman. One of Airachnid's small legs was coated with blood as Airachnid looked at you with a smug smile. "I killed her first, you're too late using your gun," she makes fun of you. "Yeah whatever congrats," you roll your eyes at your cybertronian girlfriend.

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#transformer prime #transformer prime imagines #transformer prime scenario #transformer prime headcanons #transformer prime x reader #tfp x reader #tfp x you #decepticons #decepticons x reader #knockout #tfp knockout #knockout x reader #breakdown #tfp breakdown #breakdown x reader #airachnid #tfp airachnid #airachnid x reader

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acourtofthought · 1 year ago

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Hello, good night!!

What do you think about this?

A brazilian girl (E|riel stan) made

Hi there!

SJM did say that it's possible for there to be two mating bonds however she said that before we found out that Rowans bond with Lyria was fake.

I really think the point of her saying that was to keep the theories that Rowan and Aelin were mates alive until she revealed the truth.

If two mates were truly going to be a thing in her world, why have we never seen it after 10+ new mating bonds? Why do we have confirmation of a character losing his mate in the CC series and continuing to speak on how he's lost half his soul?

Bloodbane does inhibit someones magic and the ability to reach out to their mate.....but Bloodbane does not have the ability to erase a bond. Just like wearing noise cancelling headphones doesn't take away my ability to hear on a permanent basis. So yes, it's possible someone may not have felt their bond if Bloodbane was in their system but the second the poison was out of their bloodstream, the bond would be restored. And the Mother / Fate cannot be "tricked" into who is supposed to have a bond because of poison. She / It is the one who decides on bonds in the first place. Besides, Az didn't seem to have any trouble at all snarling at the king for speaking to Mor and we know he doesn't have a bond with her, it's clear that SJM wanted to be sure that we all remembered Lucien as the one who tried to get to Elain's side as she was being forced into the Cauldron before he knew they were mates. Bond or no bond, that's good stuff.

There is a carranam bond but that's not what Amren was talking about. In that scene they were all clearly talking about Feysands mating bond. As we know Elucien does have a mating bond then it's safe to say their bond also cannot be undone.

The Cauldron was corrupted by the Asteri so they could use it to create evil monsters and dangerous weapons. They also tied the Cauldron to the land so it could not be destroyed without destroying the land. There is absolutely nothing to suggest they had any interest in messing with mating bonds and I'm not sure why they would. The Asteri created beings that they felt they could control. Thinking they wanted to "mate" them to other beings in order to create strong offspring would mean something could be born that could possibly become a threat to them. Also, we found out that one character who was originally from Prythian ended up mated to someone from Hel. Mating bonds exist across dimensions and that is not something the Asteri had anything to do with.

Rhys was definitely the product of an unhappy bond because his father was cold and vicious and his mother was soft and fiery. His father also snatched her away the very day the bond snapped.

As the only comparable piece of information from this is the fact that Elain is also soft and fiery, I think it's clear we don't have to worry about Lucien being anything like Rhys's father.

Truth Tellers special power is what it can do when used with the Starsword. And only when used by a descendent of Theia. Yes, Elain was the first person Az let use it but as far as we know, it's also the first time Az had to sit out of a battle and someone was in need of a dagger. And the reason Az sat out of battle is because Mor begged him "with tears in her eyes" to sit out. Az did not fight because the female he loved asked him not to.

I also have a theory about Truth Teller and that Az is going to end up giving it to Emorie so there's a chance Az lending it to Elain is no different than Amren giving Feyre a piece of her jewelry and convincing her it's what got her out of the prison.

Elain likes balls and parties, Az likes his space. Elain craves sunshine, Az prefers shadows. Elain is good at talking to people. Az barely talks. Elain loves nature. Az likes........snowball fights, I guess? But that's in the winter and Elain can't do what she loves in winter. Cruelty bothers Elain and Az tortures people in a symphony of pain.

Feyre and Nesta both had their bonds described as a thread. Feyre even send she felt something pulling at her gut. Elain feeling a tug on her rib is a lot more romantic than someones stomach.

We actually don't know if Elain wants Lucien. It seems she doesn't, she says she doesn't, but looking at Feyre in book 1, would we have ever known she wanted Rhys even UTM? Looking at Nesta at the start of SF, did it seem like she wanted Cassian? Considering Aelin said something extremely derogatory towards Rowan, was it easy to guess they were going to end up together? When Yrene told Chaol she only got close to him because opiates made people do stupid things, would that have clued us in to them falling in love?

(Hopefully I'm making my point here, lol).

Az's mother does live in Rosehall......and that's the most ridiculous reason for anyone to think Elain should end up with him when we know absolutely nothing about it or his mother. Feyre looked at the Night Sky and ended up in the Night Court. Elain says she needs Sunshine, not roses.

SJM tends to sample from fable and mythology however in the books these things are almost unrecognizable. So anyone trying to convince themselves of an E/riel endgame based on things SJM has sampled or might sample from should probably check in with the people who thought Bryce would end up living in Prythian as the ruler of the Dusk Court with Az.

I hope you have a great night!!!

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra #pro elain archeron

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inconcordia · 9 months ago

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On Sunday's Villainy

I've seen various interpretations of Sunday by now and sometimes he's made out to be much sweeter than I see him and other times he's made out to be much more openly villainous than I see him. So I wanted to write down my thoughts on this - the ones I can presently think of, anyway.

First of all, I refer to him as villain because the Family is shady as all hell and he's somewhat presented as an opposing force to the protagonists we're supposed to identify with. That said, no one is the villain in their own story.

I don't see him as the muahaha kind of villain that will go out of his way to be evil. To me, he is the righteous kind of "villain" (if one even wants to call him a villain in the first place), which is arguably harder to deal with than the black and white fairytale type of villain. He doesn't see himself (/(his side) as the bad guy(s) nor is he interested in "doing bad things" or exploiting people for the sake of exploiting them (NOT TO SAY that the whole Dreamscape and whatever the family is doing isn't doing exactly that, but that's a whole other topic I need to expand on). Sunday acts with the certainty of someone who sees his own actions as justified and righteous - if you are threatening the family, the Harmony, THEIR dream, any harm that comes to you is verily justified. In that sense, he might consider an act heinous up until the very point you commit a crime so bad that this very same act becomes an acceptable punishment for you. Righteousness, when misguided, is a scary thing to go up against.

That said, I don't get violent or brutal vibes from him. He has wrath inside him (I'll make a separate post about this at some point) but he doesn't seem the type who would lash out physically. He won't strike you, he won't hurt you, he won't even carry a weapon. Something about him almost gives the impression that he still won't do so if someone were to physically assault him. Not to say he won't defend himself in some way if necessary, but I just feel like physical violence is not really in his nature (may be proven wrong on this, we'll see). Think of his scene with Sparkle, or even the last one with Gallagher. He's the most emotional we see him throughout in those scenes and yet physically he barely changes, in Sparkle's case he doesn't even make outright threats to get her to stop. He asks her to stop and leave, telling her she is not welcome.

Now that doesn't mean he is an innocent flower who will cry if you upset him and not retaliate. Not at all. He will harm you and he will end you, if necessary, but he will do so in a more indirect way. He will trick you, lead you into a corner you can't get out of anymore, make you put yourself in grave danger or even make you kill yourself (directly, through your actions, etc). He will sacrifice you in a way where you will realize it but can't do anything about it (exhibit A: Aventurine). Rather than poison your drink in secret, he will create a situation in which you have no other choice but drink it willingly and knowingly.

If you threaten the Family, him or their cause, he will remove you if he can but he would do so by means that don't leave a dirty trail or appear like treachery. He wants to remain in control of the situation and any retaliation or act of prevention should be seen as what it is: punishment for the wicked. It should be as clean as possible. No clean-up is ever perfect so rather than make a mess and fix it, he'll spin a web you get so caught up in you cut off your own air supply before you know it and if someone then asks questions he will point out the fact that he wasn't even standing near you.

To be continued.. possibly.

#( headcanon. )

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spongebobafettywap · 1 year ago

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Hi I'm a Mystique fan. I feel like I'm part of a small minority here but I absolutely hate what they did to her in the new origins.

Like the Draco had her be easily tricked, heartbroken, used as a womb but at the end of the day she chose herself to get back at Azazel by nearly killing Kurt after his birth took everything from her and put her in grave danger at a rather vulnerable moment of her life (she just went through excruciating labor and right after that got chased by a mob for hours). She then went on and rebuilt herself, choosing on her own to never think about either of them again, and happily raised a child with the love of her life after meeting once again, being given some peace at long last.

These new origins had her be easily tricked even harder, even more heartbroken, used as a Goddamn printer and semen syringe by Destiny, hoe herself with people she wasn't even interested in or picked herself, build her entire hopes up of raising this child with the love of her life, expose herself as a mutant after "just seeing kurt", knowingly be put in direct danger by Destiny with a mob while she was trying to save their child, tricked into abandoning their child that apparently only she wanted, weeping alone by a cliff after doing some useless back and forth between a tree and a castle for someone who turned out to have bailed on her, spend 5 years tracking down Destiny to get back at her only to give that up because she chose to let her talk, presented Rogue as a consolation prize by the very person who tricked her into raising a child together in the first place, given the lamest explanation and excuses under the damn sun to justify everything (which with only a lick of knowledge on the situation would have made her realize those were more lies), convinced to forget about it with a full mind wipe she only agreed to do partially, .... She then went on to unknowingly remain with what could be best described as her life long abuser, devoting herself fully to her, placing her on a pedestal and as her main priority contrary to any children she's had even the one she raised, do everything in her power to resurrect her back to life and go back to doing exactly everything the same as before her death, be forcefully mind controlled by a telepath after said abuser gave the okay for him to do that if she didn't follow her along after she's shown some reservations and aversion to her last demands, go on to loudly mention her abuser as the other mother of the child said mother abandoned and chose to completely forget about... in the middle of active gun fight with their enemies aka for no damn reason (Kurt : "[Mystique] is my mom.", Mystique : "One of your moms!"), ...

I can't believe I'm saying this of my own volution but if I had to pick the better poison, I'll take the Draco.

Some people argued with me that through these new origins, Mystique had been given her agency back but ? I don't see how or where that is the case ?? Seems like she lost more of it and got left with none ???

Might be missing something here, maybe you can see something I don't ? What do you think ?

I'm guessing its a case of they for some reason like Destiny more so if she does more manipulative stuff they let it slide. They have some type of view where they have a higher tolerance for manipulative things women do compared to men. Or they let it slide because Mystique was in a long term relationship with Destiny. Or the other thing is they somehow think this whole thing adds to Mystique and Destiny's relationship... Nightcrawler being related to Destiny a character he barely has any dialogue with.. lmao. Honestly even if you hate the Draco at least it wasn't full of mindwiping retcons and more of "wow well you know everything of Kurt's life was planned!" It's also so bizarre that Xavier now apparently knew of Kurt's existence since he was a baby and at no point did he think "huh maybe i better reach out to this mutant kid who doesn't look like other humans"

#Maz answers #x-men #nightcrawler #mystique #xavier

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multistoty · 2 years ago

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The moon is a loyal companion.It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human.Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.But there’s something about the darkness, the stillness of this hour that creates a language of its own. There’s a strange kind of freedom in the dark; a terrifying vulnerability we allow ourselves at exactly the wrong moment, tricked by the darkness into thinking it will keep our secrets. We forget that the blackness is not a blanket; we forget that the sun will soon rise. But in the moment, at least, we feel brave enough to say things we’d never say in the light.There are no rules when it comes to survival. Truth that came too late was as useful as a meal to a dead man. Darkness was a beautiful thing. The kiss of a shadow. A caress as soft as moonlight. The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe we are well.He wanted to trust her, but a lifetime of mistrust made it impossible. She was the starlight to his darkness.The ghosts, they never go away. They call to you in unexpected moments, their hands lacing with yours and pulling you down paths that lead nowhere.She consumed him in a different way- the way her eyes made everything jump inside of him when he looked into them, her laughter, temper, the way ehe sometimes struggled for words, the way she jaw twitched when she was angry, the thoughtful way she listened to him, her incredible restraint and resolve in the face of overwhelming odds. When he looked at him, he saw the the capable crow she could have been, but he also saw the soldier and solider that she was. This was why love was so dangerous. Love turn the whole world into a garden, so beguiling it was easy to forget that rose petals were as ephemeral as feelings, eventually they would wilt and die, leaving nothing but the thorns. Fear was a poison that people mistook as protection. Making choices to stay safe could be just as treacherous. It smelled of her; of apples and magic and cold,moonlit nights.Nothing has been safe since the moment he laid eyes on her. And yet he don't want to look away. Kaz’s smile turned seductive, all shameless curves and immoral promises. An invitation to places that proper young ladies didn’t think about, let alone visit.Tonight he was smiling like a wicked prince, escaped from the stars, ready to spirit her up into the heavens. The crow used to think love was like a house. Once it was built, a person got to live in it forever. But now the onyx haired boy wondered if love was more like a war with new foes constantly appearing and battles creeping up.For centuries the Fates were locked away, but now they wish to come out and play.If they regain their magic the world will never be the same, but you can help stop them by winning the game. She didn't make being alone seem lonely as Kaz had always secretly feared. She made it seem like an adventure, as if every moment were the start of a story with endless possibilities. As much as he would never agree, the bastard of the barrell reached out to the broken parts of her like a caress. The type of touch that moves through damaged flesh, past fractured bones and into a person's wounded soul.Kaz looked down on her from the dark nightstand where he’d perched himself. His long legs draped negligently over the edge of the furniture as his hands played with an apple and a knife.He didn’t need to erase his pain; he needed it to propel his into action. Just because it was a negative emotion didn’t mean it wasn’t a valuable one.“I'm not going to tell you to trust me, because that's a terrible idea. You don't want to be the hero, you want the happy ending- that's why you came to me. If you do this, that will never happen. Heroes don't get happy endings. They give them to other people. Is that what you really want?”

#open rp #open to anyone #open starter #open roleplay #open to anybody #open to anything #open #open historical rp #open historical starter #grisha rp #grishaverse rp #open rolepay #shadow and bone starter #indie shadow and bone rp #shadow and bone roleplay #shadow and bone rp #open shadow and bone starter #open shadow and bone rp #open shadow and bone roleplay

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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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Man of Steel/BVS: Kryptonite-3 Doors Down

youtube

I have a lot to do with this character and Hera has a lot to do with her character Captain marvel if I were to get in shape and start healing and work out a lot instead of growing I would do like him

Zues

Uh oh and I know it's true when he was little he was working out a lot and it's growing slowed and he was becoming very strong and now he's poisons and he's tired and it's not enough oxygen so he says if the ship was off he could work out a lot and become more and more dense and in westborough he was suffocating as well everyone was and it was also from ships no it was from our cars and driving around all the time it was ridiculous and she had poison and people are using power to keep him from getting too strong I can see though that if there's here he feels a lot better you're still you people but the air takes the poison out I noted that too I feel a lot better like far far better than I should with oxygen usually it makes freezing hard and so forth but I have started to get this stuff deteriorates with it and we're pretty much all poisoned with It and they're not his kind it's their clans is an interesting movie and he's using the ship quite a bit and doping but we don't know how his eyes work he says it's not a trick it's cuz possession and that's gross and very dangerous and it's always proven to be fatal people don't want it and he might not want it it's just that it happens it's true too that is an awesome job and Superman it's probably the best Superman just come out and our friends agrees his act is pretty damn good it's about being alone alien here and trying to fit in and adjust somehow and to fight criminals and sometimes his might try and grab him and he has to fight that off too is the weirdest damn story of my life it's not really that weird weve seen their kids before and they're radical and a little nuts and powerful but you're not evil as hell like these people here. I'm telling you what's going on is that our forces are being pulled out now not in massive numbers but they are trying to go after pockets of unmovable people and those pockets are getting bigger as they remove idiots and they are being attacked it won't go on for much longer and they're thinking that if their clothes aren't here then it'll be easier and I'm thinking it might be true so they're going to try to push them off and that time is coming pretty quick he's close to taking a severe globally they're being attacked but really below they're main force is being decimated. It is a matter of time and so Air Force is going to try and remove those ships shortly and it will be to alleviate the stress of being defeated over and over and just removing idiots so these other groups can move in they're very honorary people foreigners and minorities in his group are very ornery and mean and pushy I guess they're like me and there's a lot of them and his people don't take no for an answer and you people are stupid you keep doing s*** especially you Trump and you get killed a lot it's my other people because they don't want you doing what you're doing and there's our suffering and you think you have the AI and the computers are getting taken over and you're ridiculously stupid about it you're 25 years behind everyone but they know about it and you don't. Fair enough for your talking to you're a liar and we went through your stuff you just keep on telling him and he keeps telling you you're an idiot and you'll be out soon and your army is becoming useless and it's true pretty soon they'll be done those ships will be out and we can make the place livable.

Mac Daddy

I thought we would take over as well and we mean to take over the government and the area and the ocean and with military force and drive around with trucks and tanks that's what we intend to do

Mike t

What are you some kind of f****** idiot Mike you want to look stupid and you're proven you are what the hell are you talking about you f****** moron

Zues Hera

I'm talking about taking over this area by force I've been in here a few times trying we're getting repelled by a few areas and it's getting bigger and we can't enter some but for the most part we can load up and just try to take over by force so what we try it

Mike tew

The areas are getting bigger and bigger and since last night and this morning and yesterday there's been about 45% of the warlock evacuated and 15% were removed forcibly and those areas are pretty big and they're being stage with some equipment which is not necessarily a combat equipment is special and is to take you out Mike two and your forces and it allow you to go into the warlock area in order to take that over and we're doing the same thing as our foreigners it's going to be a very speedy transition of territory and your people will be devastated due to the cockneyed attitude

Thor Freya

Here's what I say I can't stand your boy and yeah it's a lot of talk I'm going to sit here and threatening to try and get it yeah like I did the whole time it seems to work

Mike tew

We're going to start attacking you again mike tew you're a steaming f****. And we are going to start renovating Rolls-Royce cars and driving them around we can't stand your attitude or your face or your talk you're a stupid person you're being depleted here and we want to follow you around with rolls Royce cars and wait for your people to fall and not try a million times we might try a bunch to get you back

Thor Freya

I don't have time for this I'm going to roll over you warlock

Mike tew

This guy is a God damn idiot of mine and is wrong to see what you say is wrong to try stuff like that and he's ruining me and I didn't even the hell out I need him the hell out he's the one taking over New Zealand and Trump is going to send troops there now

Mac Daddy

Never have I been so insulted and so on so probably ready then we'll probably run in the attack of warlock more will evacuate more will be pulled out he'll take territory and get locked out

Mike tew

It insulting creep and you people are low less about the cops out every few days at Castle I didn't have any rest or sleep I have valuable and you're not in your f****** creep I love your coffee line and jerk off you are I haven't seen the paragraph you wrote above do you see what it says

Zues Hera

I guess you're right about something I said it in the evolved statement that's what we're doing. We have a plan to save my Force and if they're here they will defend themselves with massive fleets so I do understand that and yeah so it'll be a prick and he says not for long

Mike tew

Well that's what's going on and he says it a lot and he is that kind of person and he is definitely senile and ill and stupid as a former Mike would never do anything like it this one thinks it's fun but when you mention the fact that Tommy F has the same problem it gets them mad and it should be and boys this guy spoiled we're going to take it for a ride a lot

Thor Freya

#Youtube

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happyhealthycats · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I hate to be a bother to you, but I wanted to share a kitty success story I think you might enjoy!

I rescued a cat from a not so great household a few years ago, and I still remember the day I got her home she was just so scared. The poor thing was covered in fleas and bruises and all fluffed up in her carrier on the ride home. One of the main things I noticed when I got her home was that she was incredibly shy about food. She would startle if any loud noises occured while she was eating her kibble, and she would refuse treats and actively avoid human food even when bites of it were offered to her (never at the dinner table, because that sets bad habits, but as treats later in the day). It became obvious that food was one of her big triggers, and so I made it my personal mission to make her comfortable knowing that I would never hurt her even if she did act up and steal things. My first order of business was to offer her some treats beside her kibble, alternating them to see what she liked and disliked (apparently she has an affinity for seafood and turns her nose up at steak) and then leaving the room while she ate. That seemed to do the trick, and gradually she became more accepting of treats offered to her, even willing to eat with me present and eventually directly from my hand. Needless to say her palate has expanded greatly over the years she's been with me, and while she still sometimes has reservations about eating treats with me watching, she's become a lot more bold. No more is the skittish kitty who freezes at loud noises and slinks around the house, for now I often find her hanging out on the couch (a place she previously avoided like the plague) and sticking her face in bowls of greek yogurt left unattended for too long. I honestly can't bring myself to be cross with her for the latter action, though, because it's proof of just how far she's come in terms of trusting people and showing her colourful personality. Plus, for my efforts I've learned that she's quite the cuddle bug! She insists on sleeping in my bed every night, or at the very least on one of her other perches in my room if I'm moving too much in my sleep. She may be a bit of a troublemaker now, but I'd rather have a prissy kitty than a scardey cat.

Here's some photos of the little lady herself! Lumi!

This one was taken right after she stole $2 from my wallet. She looks so pleased with herself, for a cat who has no use for money. It was a good photo op, though! (even if the background is messy because I was rearranging)

This photo was taken about a week after she came home! She still looks a little skittish here, but the fact that she's willing to sit on the console stand to smell the flowers speaks volumes about her progress. She really likes flowers, so whenever I get them I make sure to out then where she can reach. (She's not in any danger of poisoning, because she has no interest in eating them. She just likes sniffing 'em)

Here she is hanging out in her second favourite place in the house; my bed! She prefers sitting on pillows, so she has a side of the bed all to herself. This time she decided my pillow was more comfy, though.

I have a million more photos of her to share, but I'll avoid making this ask too long. Sorry if I'm rambling, by the way! I have a fever at the moment so I'm kind of incoherent, but I just really need to tell people about my cat-

I just gotta say (mostly to cover my own ass) keep in mind cats can still get sick from the pollen of certain flowers, so they're still dangerous even if the cat's not prone to eating them. Great story! I'm happy you were able to have so much progress!

#not my cat #cat story #ask box

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rcksmith · 4 years ago

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Nobody else — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Hello! May I request number nine from the fluff prompts and number seven from the smut prompts for Five? Maybe where the reader is a super skilled fighter, and the other Hargreeves siblings can’t get over how amazing she is, but that causes Five to become a little jealous?”

“Okayy if you're not tired of Five and smuts yet, can I request 18,70,74 and 84 from smut list with fem reader?”

Fluff prompts:

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

Smut prompts:

7. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

18. “Are you sure? Once we start, i might not be able to stop.”

70. “Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that?”

74. “I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth.”

84. “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

Thank you for requests💖 I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit smut, dirty talk, bad words, fluff, fight, mention of death, jealousy.

— — — — —

People need each other to find support, comfort and understanding. Thomas Merton said: “Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life alone, but with the other. ”

And as cliché as it was, it was the truth. And that is exactly what happened to you.

It was difficult to explain how many years you had already been killing for the commission. Ever since, maybe? You did not remember a time when that work was not part of your life, your routine, your system. But you could feel, vaguely like a hazy dream, that one day the act of breathing was ... light.

Killing without conscience brought many regrets, and the weight of guilt filled your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

But you were good at that. God, you were very good. Maybe it was the endless years of training, your quick thinking, or the simple fact that you had a lot more physical stamina than the other agents. But, whatever it was, it helped you move up the board quickly.

Murdering with a gun was easy, quick, clean, and there were already many agents who did that job. For someone like you, so empowered, the commission has relocated you to more… arduous and dangerous missions.

Your job was to kill those whose gunshots could not show up at the necropsy. Someone who needed to die without the body revealing what had happened very well.

Shoot JFK? It wasn't with you.

End Hitler? It wasn't your job.

To kill Socrates with your bare hands and make everyone believe it was poison? This is where you came in.

The difference between the jobs was that you had to do the whole process. And a melee interaction instead of a weapon always brought people who wanted to fight for their lives. And that is why the commission chose you to do that, without any partner.

They elected you because you fought like a super soldier, focused on your goal like a robot, and never came back without success. It didn't matter how many fights you had to fight with your target, how many punches you had to throw and also take, or how many injuries you returned. You always won.

Over time, you learned things in practice, tricks that made it easy, scams that would save you effort. You learned to study each person in seconds, find their weaknesses, and use his own strength against them.

That's when you met Five Hargreeves. And Thomas Merton's quote made sense.

You two were so much similar. Both the best in their fields, wrecked in a sea of personal traumas, buried by a job that got the best of you two. You two felt misunderstood, alone in the vastness of that world. And when you two met... well, were no longer alone.

You two got involved, in all possible ways and ways. Loved each other, adored each other, and completed each other. Life went out of automatic mode, and for the first time in a long time, you two managed to breathe lightly. The food now tasted good, the heat of the sun on the skin was now better, and the world... the world was ruled by the red color of love.

So it became the most obvious and coherent decision to you two get married. Five could no longer imagine a life in which you did not exist, and you did not know how the world could go without him.

“I can't believe we did that!” You laughed, astonished, as you entered the apartment that you and Five shared.

You two had just married, something just for you two and the ceremonialist. You two chose something very intimate, reserved. And now the ring on him left hand looked like the most beautiful thing in the world for you.

Five laughed softly, hands moving up your arms, bringing you closer.

“We did. Wife.”

After that, your two contract with the commission changed. Five would only continue to do that if no one dared to touch a hair of yours, and you swore to The Handler that if someone did something to Five, you would destroy that place brick by brick.

Five saw in you a strong and atrocious ocean, which could swallow whole cities only with the force of its fury. And he liked that. He liked having someone as competent and firm as he was. Five liked to know that if there was a disaster, he would not be the only one who would go after a solution.

You were the type who knew that if you wanted things to happen, you had to do it with your bare hands. And Five loved it, because he felt understood. He carried so many responsibilities on his back that it was relieving to find someone who also felt the same things.

Five knew that, when him found way home, you were going with him. And you went. You two exchanged vows that would be together in joy and sadness, in any situation. And if the situation now said to go to 2019, well, you would.

“It makes me so sick, God!” Five heard you say when you two fell out of that blue portal he created.

He would have laughed if his muscles didn't hurt so much. For someone so trained you got sick of his powers very quickly.

"Five?!” And then the voice of one of the brothers was heard.

And that's how you two ended up there. A week later, in the Hargreeves' living room, with Diego swearing that you wouldn't be able to beat him in a fight.

Five laughed against the margarita's straw, sitting comfortably at the bar, giving up on telling his stupid brother that you had already killed much more dangerous people with your bare hands.

“I do not want to hurt you.” You smiled understandingly, and Klaus laughed.

“I bet 50 bucks that she beats your ass, Diego.” It was only logical that he was going to encourage his brother to fall.

“There is no way you can hurt me.” Diego guaranteed, getting up and starting to push the sofa away, making room for a fight.

“Are you up for it or are you scared?” He played with you, and Five laughter it back there, having a lot of fun.

“This is ridiculous, Diego.” Allison stressed, but it was obvious that she wanted to watch too.

You smirked, getting up from the bar chair next to Five. You didn't want to defeat your husband's brother in that fight, you understood that the circumstances between the two of you were not fair.

You were created to kill, injure and decimate. Body wrestling was your job and it wouldn't be fair to Diego. You knew, from Five, that the Hargreeves were created to be heroes. Saviors of the motherland. Hurt and kill if necessary, but don't make it a goal.

But not with you. Killing was your goal, always. And your weapon was not super powers or pistols, but the body itself.

“Okay.” You laughed and went to the circle that Diego had made “But I don't want to hurt you. The first one to fall to the ground loses.” You were trying to be peaceful.

Diego agreed, giving him a friendly smile before saying:

“But I will use my knives to distract you.”

It was logical that he wouldn't make it cheap and easy, even if it was for himself, you knew that.

So you agreed, took off the suit you were wearing and rolled up the sleeves of your white dress shirt, while the Hargeeves sat in a safe area, away from that makeshift ring.

Diego delivered the first blow, and you just deflected the trunk, taking him by the same arm and twisting it against his back. At that moment, if it was something for real, you would put more strength to break the bone, but you didn't want to hurt him, so you just released Diego with a little push forward.

Diego turned to face you again, the naughty smile on the face of someone who knows his own potential. He was very good, you knew that, but the different upbringing made you a better opponent.

This time, the blow came from below. It was a trip that you jumped while pulling on the fist he used to land another blow in the same second, forcing him to come forward with force while you deflecting once more. Diego staggered forward, steadying himself on the floor once again.

It was all absurdly fast, as if you were a robot. A machine programs for that.

Diego hurled the knife in the wind while attacking with his other fist. You dodged again, but this time you struck back, slamming a blow down the side of your stomach, blocking his attack with your other arm and unleashing a kick in the chest, which made Diego stagger backward.

In a matter of seconds, the knife was at the end of its course. And while Diego was advancing again, the wind that the knife was making hit your hair. But the knife didn't finish course. You stopped the blade with your hand, holding to the object with your palm.

At that moment, you saw Diego's eyes falter. And a surprised gasp by the Hargreeves graces the ambience. Then it was your turn to attack. You threw the knife on the floor, driving the blade into the wooden floor as you went.

There were punches, deflected blows, creeps. The two of you were dancing to an agitated song, which was reaching its climax.

Diego had holding you in him arms, and you turned your body, locked him left arm in your hands while you used the momentum to propel your legs up, past his neck and turning, taking you both to the floor. He fell on his back while you used your own momentum to balance yourself, standing upright.

“YES! YOU OWM ME 50 DOLLARS!" Klaus's voice was heard.

You laughed, and you were about to walk away when Diego dug his left hand into your heel. He pulled you in a single stroke, and it made you fall, your back hitting the ground as he took the lead. Diego put his legs on your hips the first second you fell on the floor, and he used his own strength to keep you there.

You laughed out loud, and so did he.

“This is cheating!” You scolded him, punching him in the chest.

“Whatever, but you had to fall too!”

Diego was a good loser, you recognized that by the intonation of the voice. He was not possessed or reviled because you won, but he wanted it to be an eye for an eye, even if only as a joke.

But as soon as Diego got up off you, holding your hand for you got up too, your eyes went to Five. And you found the green irises burning in an atrocious fire. You frowned, not understanding, but you didn't have time to go over there and ask what happened. Klaus and Luther came to you and Diego.

Klaus charging his brother and Luther asking you how you did that final blow.

“It's for me to use when he pisses me off!” Luther looked directly at his brother in a silent threat “ But he will not get up alive!”

“Fuck you” Diego said before practically shoving 50 dollars in Klaus's face.

“Is easy.” You replied Luther “I'll show you."

But while the brothers were having fun, marveling at you, Five burned in a visseral cholera.

Wasn't it enough for Diego to have literally been on top of you, you had to want to teach that stupid gorilla too ?!

Oh fucking no!

When Diego went to Luther and started explaining with you, him your side, how the scam worked, Five was exploding. Now that stupid men butcher knife would be on your side?! Agreeing and explaining whit you as if it were your husband?!

Wasn't it enough just fucking being on top of you?!

Definitely fuck not!

“Take it easy, buddy.” Klaus appeared beside him “You are looking at them as if you want to kill someone.”

Five just snarled, not bothering to respond, his eyes never leaving you.

“Wait..." Klaus looked better at who Five was staring “Are you jealous of Y/n ?!” He was amazed.

“Shut up!” Five forced himself to swallow a handful of margarita.

“Oh my God!” And he wouldn’t stop “You like her! That must be why you live in a bad mood! You must be in the friend zone! ”

“Didn't I tell you to shut up already ?!” Five looked deathly at his brother “And I'm not in the friend zone with her.”

But Five realized that he gaved too much information to his brother, because now Klaus's face was opening in a shocked smile.

Goddam!

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Klaus was loving the situation.

But, out of the corner of his eye, Five can see Diego holding your arm, showing Luther the place to deliver any stupid blow.

You gotta be fucking kidding!

“No, that girl is my wife!” Five tapped the margarita glass on the counter, teleporting to you and pushing Diego's hand off your arm, replacing his own.

“The show over!” He growled as he left the room, pulling you with him, your feet stumbling a few times before picking up the pace.

“Five!” You said, but he didn't seem to hear.

The image of Diego's legs at your fucking waist, the body sitting on you, the hand on your arm, rewound Five's mind like a curse. He felt his anger inflate, jealousy whispering in the back of his neck like a little devil, making him see the situation bigger than it really was.

You called him again, but for Five, it was like you called his brother's name. And then he exploded in his own fury.

He couldn't wait to go up all those stupid stairs, all those corridors, Five just pulled you against him, disappearing in the blue flash and reappearing in the his room.

“You are crazy?” You pulled the wrist out of his grip.

“I should be asking you that!” He said “Did you see that scene ?!”

“What a scene?” You frowned.

Five focused his eyes on you, in angry energy.

“Diego on top of you, fuck!" He snarled “Luther drooling like a dog on you!”

“Five.” You thought all that was absurd “They are your brothers!”

“You have no idea how much i don’t give a fuck!”

The situation was ridiculous, and you ended up laughing in disbelief and bewilderment.

“We were fighting!” You defended yourself "Nobody was drooling on me!"

“I swear to god tha ...” Five walked over to you, his eyes flooded with rage, his body enveloped in that intense and explosive energy.

You lifted chin to get a better look, your chest stuck to him, Five's breath hitting the top of your nose. That week had been full of emotions and issues to deal with, 24 hours being insufficient to do everything, explain everything. And, well, you and Five didn't have much time alone...

All of this compiled with the fact that your husband possessed the beauty of an angry god,and that excited you so fuck absurdly.

Suddenly, the air in the room became caustic, seething with the expectation of something improper happening, injecting heat into your chest that descended to the middle of your legs.

You sighed softly, and Five immediately noticed the waters where your thoughts were sailing.

“Does it turn you on?” His voice was hoars “See me angry?”

The sigh you gave was your whistleblower, your chest started to rise and fall more breathlessly than usual, your core starting to pulse. You wouldn't be able to say anything even your life would depended it, you drowning in the malicious and hot climate of that room, compiled with the absurd beauty and intensity of the adult in front of you.

God, you needed him!

“Yes, you like.” Five had an arrogant, boastful tone, mocking how sensitive you were.

But his eyes took on a more conscious tone, and he whispered as he said: "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop. ”

Five knew his own limits, his own anger, his own strength. If he touched you now, in most simple, he wouldn't be able to stop. You agreed, hands moving gently up his body, resting on him hips.

“I will not be gentle.” Five wanted to you know again.

He had already fucked you hard, drowned in insatiable desire, marking your skin with slaps, hickeys. Five had already mistreated your mouth, made you scream. But never fucked you in anger. He never took his anger out on you. And now, submerged in jealousy, he knew how much strength he would discharge on you.

“I don't want it to be.” But you gave Five the go-ahead on a needy sigh, your fingers running around his waist.

Five dropped his mouth to your ear, tracing a path across your skin with warm lips, now bringing hands up to your skin, feeling how hot, needy you were.

“You're wet and I haven't even touched you yet.” His words hung over you like a warm warning of what was going to happen, what to expect.

You moaned softly, your body shivering, screaming for you to get more, seeking some friction, some contact. Then, as if Five read you thoughts, his left hand clung fiercely to the back of your neck, curling him fingers in your hair.

He forced you to look at him, watching the rage and the extraordinary lust.

“Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules.”

Five left you brutally, telling you to take off all your clothes, watching all your movements while he got rid of the shirt himself. He left him tie beside the bed, sitting on the mattress and pulling you onto him lap as soon as you finally got naked. He fit thigh in the middle of your legs, making you sit on his thigh.

You groaned, the friction in the place you most wanted, the core pulsing against the dark cloth of him pants. You rummaged your hips for more than you wanted, but Five dropped his hand on your ass, releasing a loud, stinging slap. The groan was unable to be controlled, and you buried your face in the curve of him neck, sobbing there.

“You will be grateful for every slap I give you, do you understand?” He snarled, fingers tightening on your flesh, marking your skin.

You agreed, and thanked him when Five slapped your ass harder. This time, he moved him thigh beneath you, brushing your pulsating core, leaving you in an extremely needy state.

“Fi-five!" A sob escaped, followed by another thanks when a slap hit your in ass again.

Five's hands roughly grabbed your waist, holding you firmly in place as he started to rummage in him thigh, making you moan louder every second. That was torture. You pulsed and wet him thigh, your body rigid from wanting more of that friction, the sobs escaping your lips, the muscles contracted.

“Such a needy slut." He snarled in your ear “So desperate for my thigh.”

You groaned at him words, your fingers around him shoulders, squeezing there while Five took you so badly in him thigh. He dropped his mouth to your hot neck, pouring a hickey there before sighing hoarsely:

“The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

It sent electric currents to your swollen core, and moans got even bigger when Five increased the speed of his movements, rubbing your clitoris in those mind-boggling movements. His strong grip, compiled wheezing on his neck, his hoarse voice and the movements of his thigh took you to the limit. And you were pushed into that abyss of the climax.

“So fucking quickly.” Five delighted, in a groan, and stuck his hands on your back, holding you there, turning you in one movement to the bed.

Your back hit the mattress, Five’s warm hands roamed your legs, squeezing thighs and parting them, exposing your wet, red core at the climax. Five groaned loudly, as if seeing you hurt physically, and he took his hands off you to grab the tie next to you.

“Be good and open your mouth for me.” You obeyed, and he wiped the cloth over there, fastening his tie.

You sighed brokenly, your heart beating fast, breasts stiff and sore, your ass burning with slaps, core sensitive to climax.

“I think I like you better with a gag in your mouth." Five reflected, him hands roaming your trembling body, squeezing every bit of skin, reveling in how your skin felt at him touch.

Five reveled in the breath you took, enjoying how you looked like a fucking goddess like that. So vulnerable, so needy, so needy.

He was controlling himself until now, pushing you to the limit, making you sensitive, teasing you, making you sensitive to what was coming. Him smile was purely lustful, and Five leaned toward you, roughly sucking the nipple from your breast, nibbling at the needy skin. Then he brought hands up to his pants, opening his belt and zipper, pulling the pieces down far enough for his dick to pop out.

The moan you gave when you felt the hot, luscious member on your thigh was enough to inflate him ego even more. Five turned your body down, pulling your waist up, leaning into your ear to whisper:

“I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll never forget that day.” Then he entered you, rough, strong, badly.

He forced your walls to get used to him size and sank to the bottom of the well, clutching his hands to your hips and pulling you against him dick. You screamed against the tie, pressing your fingers to the pillows, sobbing when Five set a fierce, wild and badly pace, mistreating every inch of you.

One of him hands went to your neck, closing his fingers there and pouring out all the fury and jealousy he felt in the thrusts, going in as deep as he could and pushing your limit. The pornographic sounds of the two of you moaning, the sound of his hip hitting your ass, invaded the room, mixing with the smell of sex, lust and hunger.

You shouted him name when Five left and brutally entered you, making you choke on your own sobs.

“What's it? Are you unaccustomed to my dick?” He tasted it, leaving your neck to slap your ass aggressively “Is it too much for you?”

You sobbed, stopped by the tie, and Five hit you again.

“Do you think someone can fuck you like me?!”

Now him voice was angry and his movements too. Five fucked you like he had spent his whole life in fury at you, waiting patiently for the day when he would discount everything on you. Him hand went to your mouth, pulling tie from there and releasing your toxic moans.

“Answer me, fuck!” One more slap, leaving your ass on fire.

“N-no!” You cried “Nobody ... no-nobody fucks me like you!”

You talks with a more thrust, and Five pushed your chest to the bed, keeping his hand on your back, him moans mixing with your.

Then he reached the peak of anger.

Five came out of you, turned you up and bent your legs, placing your knees on your shoulders. He entered in a brutal way inside you, the new position making him occupy all the minimum vacant spaces. You screamed, tears welling up in your eyes, your hands tightening on his arms, your heart already racing.

It was too much. Your body begged for more, for the climax, for the lust, for anything fierce that Five could give you. He dropped his mouth on yours, biting your bottom lip instead of kissing you, making you swallow his lines when he said:

“Maybe I should leave you like this, that way anyone who wanted to use you could have a go with you. Would you like that? ”

You desperately denied it. Five could very well come out of you and not let you come, and just that thought made your body tremble and tears flow.

“Plea-Please!” You sobbed “I beg you!”

That did things with Five. He stuck his body to your, him arm going around your waist and fucking you as if that could chase away all his anger. This time he kissed you, sticking his lips to yours as he felt you pulse around him and break up in a hushed scream, trembling at the climax.

Five did not falter, his black hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, his heart pounding. He cum strongly inside your core, filling you with hot cum. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss as he came inside of you, slowly calming down.

The two of you sighed, the room flooding with the smell of sex and desire, your hearts thudding at the same pace. You whimpered in his mouth, and when Five want to leave inside you, you denied it, tightening your legs around him waist.

“N-No.” You moaned softly, "Stay inside, please."

Five drew air through his teeth, him hands gripping the sides of your body, stirring inside you, beginning to feel the lust rising.

He kissed you again, whispering:

“You want to have a child of mine, don't you?" It was an arrogant, provocative voice, and you sighed. “You are such a fucking sensitive little thing.”

Then Five started moving again, and you stayed in that room for much longer.

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7-wonders · 3 years ago

Text

Mother Knows Best

Summary: You place your trust in Michael, probably more than you should, as he takes your hand and pulls you out of the prison that you've known as home and into the world.

Word Count: 2474 words

A/N: Hi everybody, this is the second part of my Tangled!AU. I hope you all enjoy this, and, if you did, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated. Criticism is always appreciated too. Read the first part of this AU here!

(^^^exactly how I imagine Michael and reader's relationship in this, btw)

The last time that you had asked Mother about leaving the cottage, things had not gone as you had imagined them. You had had a whole speech prepared, one where you outlined that you were mature and more than ready to face the world with your mother by your side. This trust was going to be built up with small excursions at first; you envisioned going to the market that Mother always got her herbs for spells from, maybe even to the French Quarter that you’d read so much about. Eventually, you hoped to see the school and the girls that Mother spent all day with. Even though your magic is nothing but parlor tricks, you could still be a good help with the younger girls!

Instead, you had barely gotten past what the encyclopedias called a thesis before Mother had stopped you, a smile that you came to learn as patronizing gracing her face. She stood from the couch that you had excitedly set her down on, coming to stand right in front of you. You had long since grown to be Mother’s height, but she still managed to be just as intimidating eye-to-eye.

“You want to leave the grounds?” Mother asked, and you nodded emphatically. “Look at you, as fragile as a flower. Still a little sapling, just a sprout! You know why we stay here, away from others?”

“I know, but…” Of course you knew, she had been telling you why for as long as you could remember. The world was cruel and scary, and evil people would stop at nothing to harm the Supreme’s daughter. Mother had tried for so long to have a child that, after having you, she couldn’t bear to lose you. But you’ve become tired with that explanation, and you want more.

“Yes, to keep you safe and sound.” Sometimes you wonder if she can read your mind. “I guess I always knew this day was coming. Knew that soon, you’d want to leave the nest. Soon, but not yet.”

“But--”

She put her hands on your shoulders. “Shh! Trust me, pet. Mother knows best.”

“Mother, I’m sure that I will be safe with you by my side. I’m not asking to run away and leave you, I’m asking to go with you!” You were starting to get extremely frustrated with her. Though you didn’t know it, the sky was beginning to cloud dangerously with your emotions.

“It’s a scary world out there, and something will go wrong, I swear. Ruffians, thugs, poison ivy, quicksand, cannibals, snakes, the plague..”

You rolled your eyes, tired of her listing every bad thing you could meet. “No!”

“Yes! Large bugs, men with pointy teeth--” she broke off in a dramatic sigh, wincing as if the mere idea was terrifying. “Stop, no more, you’ll just upset me.”

Huffing, you began to gather up the words as to why none of this mattered, but Mother gathered you in her arms and pulled you into an almost stifling hug.

“Darling, here’s what I suggest. Skip the drama, stay with mama! Mother knows best.”

“Why do you know best though? I’m grown up, I want to experience more of life than what’s here at the house. After all, there has to be good in the world, or else you wouldn’t keep going out into it.”

Mother’s eyes steeled, and she gritted her teeth as she looked down at you. “Take it from me. On your own, you won’t survive. Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy--please! They’ll eat you up alive.”

Your jaw dropped at the rude words coming out of her mouth, never having dealt with her being so harsh before.

“Gullible, naïve, positively grubby! Ditzy and a bit...well, hmm, vague. I’m just saying this because I love you! I understand, and I’m here to help you. All I have is one request.”

You were crying by then, and looked up in Mother’s embrace when she called your name softly. “Yes?”

Her hand, which had been comfortingly running through your hair, went to your chin to force you to look at her. “Don’t ever ask to leave this house again.”

“Yes, Mother,” you mumbled, just ready to be done with this nightmare of a conversation.

“I love you very much, dear.”

You forced a smile, ready to say what you had said for as long as you could remember. “I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

Oh boy, you couldn’t imagine how furious Mother would be once she arrives home and finds out that you left. That thought alone has you looking back at the end of the long, long driveway, contemplating whether you should just forget this and turn around. If you went back now, she wouldn’t even know that you left, let alone left with a strange man who broke in and started claiming so many terrible things about Mother.

The man in question senses the turmoil that you’re going through, and looks at you curiously. How Michael wishes he could read your mind right now. In normal circumstances, he could, but you’re far from normal. No formal training, yet you’ve put up mental blocks that not even he can get through. It’s fascinating, which is exactly why he can’t let you have any doubt about leaving with him.

“I know you’re worried,” Michael says next to you, making you jump, “but you don’t have to be. You think that Cordelia was worried when she kidnapped you? Was she worried all of the years that she kept you locked up as a prisoner?”

He could be one of those ruffians or thugs that Mother warned you about, your brain chimes in. Have you checked his teeth to make sure they’re not pointy?

“You don’t have to be worried or afraid. I’m right here with you, and I’ll make sure that you never have to feel this type of fear again.” Michael holds out his hand once more, but instead of expecting you to shake it, he’s expecting you to grab it. “Do you trust me?”

You’re not really sure that you do. He’s dangerous, and you don’t have to know him to know that for a fact. You saw the way his eyes went completely black. He talks like he knows you, knows your life, and you still think that he lied to you about Mother kidnapping you. Yet, there are some things that he does seem to know. He knows the isolation that you’ve felt your entire life, and he doesn’t have to tell you that for you to know. You can see it in the way that he looks at you, like you’re a kindred spirit who’s gone through what he’s gone through.

The one thing that got you to say yes to leaving with him, and the thing that keeps you from going home right now, is what he was able to do regarding your powers. Michael knew that getting you upset would unleash powers that you weren’t aware you possessed. He knows what you’re capable of, even though you don’t, and you want to figure that out, too. That’s why you grab his hand.

“I probably shouldn’t, but yes, I trust you.”

Michael smiles at you in a way that makes you duck your head shyly. “Are you ready, then?”

The step that you both take at the same time is literally quite small, but figuratively earth-shattering. You gasp when you realize that you’re actually off of the property that you had grown up on, the property that you’ve never left before. It feels like freedom to you, and freedom is tantalizing. Michael grins next to you as he watches your excitement, the grin only widening as you begin to giggle giddily.

“You really haven’t ever gotten out, huh?”

“Nope. Mother would be so mad right now.” For some reason, the thought makes you laugh even harder.

“Well, now that we’ve officially made it out, what do you want to do first?”

It takes a moment, but you finally calm down enough to respond. “What...what do you mean?”

“We can go anywhere, do anything, that you want. The world is yours now.”

You think, trying to decide. With a whole world of options in front of you, it’s a lot to comprehend. “I’ve always wanted to go to the French Quarter. I know that’s probably not what you were expecting, but I’ve always seen pictures in the books that Mother brought home for me. I want to experience everything that I’ve only ever read about.”

“Let’s start in the French Quarter, then.”

“Uh...how do we get there? It doesn’t look like you have a car.” At least, not that you can see. Maybe they make invisible cars?

“I said I’d train you to harness and use your magic, did I not?” You nod. “This is where we start. Have you ever teleported before?”

“Teleported?” You let out a sharp laugh.

“Transmuted is the correct term, but the two can be used interchangeably.”

“And you think that I can do this?”

“I know that you can do this. With how close we are to the French Quarter, it should be extremely easy for you. Think of it like riding a bike with training wheels.” You stare at him blankly. “Bad analogy for both of us, sorry.”

“Okay, so...how do I transmute, then? Am I just supposed to wish really hard or something?”

Michael chuckles. “Kind of. You have to think of your powers as something alive, something that you need to work with. Magic can do what you want, as long as you know how to tap into it correctly.”

Michael puts his hands on your shoulders, but unlike when Mother would so often do the same move, it feels comforting and not controlling.

“Take a few deep breaths, and close your eyes.” Though you feel a little foolish, you do as he says, body relaxing as you do so. “Good. I want you to think of the pictures that you’ve seen so often, imagine the feeling on those cobblestone streets under your shoes, smell the beignets cooking--”

“I don’t know what beignets smell like,” you mutter.

“Okay then, smell what you think they smell like. See the Spanish-style buildings and the wrought iron fences. Can you imagine it?”

“Yes.” And you can. You spent so long looking at pictures from all around the world, French Quarter included, that it doesn’t take all that long to place yourself there.

“Good. Now, place yourself there. This is where the ‘wishing’ comes in. You need to put us in this scene that you’ve created.”

“Put us there,” you repeat. It feels like you’re in a trance as you do what Michael says, putting both of you in this French Quarter that you’ve imagined. Your nose tickles, you feel a strange tugging in your belly button, and then you feel the wind blowing around you. After a moment you sigh in frustration. “I don’t think it’s working, Michael.”

“Open your eyes,” he whispers. You do, and gasp at what you see.

Sure enough, both of you are standing in the actual, real French Quarter. People smile at you as they pass, and you can hear different songs coming from the open doors of the shops and bars and businesses that surround you. You smell something sickly sweet, almost like fried sugar.

“You did it.”

“Oh my god, I did it!” you squeal, bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet. “I actually did it, I--you didn’t help me, right?”

“Not at all. I told you what to do, but that’s it.”

“Wow, this is,” you spin around slowly, taking it all in, “this is amazing. It’s exactly what I always imagined it would be like.”

Michael Langdon does not have a heart, figuratively. He can’t have a heart, or any human emotions, he’s the Antichrist, for fuck’s sake. That’s not entirely true. The human emotions that are good--wrath, jealousy, rage--are ones that Michael's more than happy to feel. But seeing the wonder on your face as you look at this town that you never thought you would actually get to see, Michael feels his stomach twisting into knots. It’s uncomfortable, and he really hopes that it’s just some sort of transmutation-related sickness. Shoving his emotions down, he adopts a face of cool indifference.

“It’s going to be dark soon, we should find a hotel to spend the night in.”

Your face falls. “Oh, I don’t have any money, but I can pay you back at some point.”

“I don’t have money either.”

“Then how will we pay?”

Michael smirks. “We won’t.”

You look at him in confusion, but follow him anyways as he walks down the street with his hands clasped behind his back.

Your confusion only escalates when Michael walks right up to the front desk at the Ritz-Carlton on Canal Street and smiles at the concierge. “Mr. Langdon plus one.”

“Of course, Mr. Langdon, I see you’re right here with a penthouse reservation.” The book that the concierge is looking at, the one that he says the reservation is written down in, is blank. Regardless, Michael is handed a key. “Enjoy your stay at the Ritz-Carlton, New Orleans!”

Once you’re safely on the elevator, you seem to come out of the confused stupor that’s kept you tongue tied until now. “What was that?” you demand.

“What was what?” Michael says coyly.

“There was nothing written in that book, but he knew you had a reservation! How did that happen?”

“It was a simple mind control, hardly anything to write home about.”

“You tricked him into giving us a room?”

“I didn’t trick him. He just saw something that wasn’t there. Really, it’s his own fault. He should learn to read better.”

“You can’t do that! That’s...that’s mean, and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.”

Michael sighs. “You really need to stop seeing the world in black-and-white. The Ritz-Carlton is one of the richest hotel chains in the world. Not getting paid for a single night’s reservation is not going to hurt them in the slightest. When we leave, they won’t even remember there were people staying in the suite.”

“But…”

“Feel free to sleep on the streets tonight.” Michael unlocks the door to the hotel suite, swinging it open to reveal the definition of elegance. “But I will be staying here. The choice is yours.”

You’ll soon come to learn that choices, minuscule as they may seem, have a resounding impact on your life. Taking Michael’s hand and leaving the house that was all you had ever known was the first such choice. This, swallowing your pride and going to stay in a hotel room that you did not pay for, is the second. Whether it’s good or bad is yet to be determined.

Tag List: @antichristlangdon @michaellangdon @ajokeformur-ray @lichellaw @wroteclassicaly @xavierplympton @trelaney @hecohansen31 @sojournmichael @dyns33 @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @ladyrindt @marvelmayo @1950schick @brattylovee

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon au #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #ahs imagines

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watercolorfreckles · 3 years ago

Note

An idea:

Hero and Villain going to the same therapist but don’t know about the other. The therapist knows both of their secret identities obviously and has to deal with them complaining about each other separately

Bonus scene:

Villain finds out that therapist knows Hero’s secret identity and tries to trick the therapist into revealing Hero (can be flirting, snooping in the office, etc)

Btw, I think you’re doing fantastic with your writing! I honestly can’t believe you haven’t written in so long— your recent work flowed perfectly. Thank you for sharing your talent for writing on tumblr!!! Also I just realized how long this ask is sorry I didn’t mean to overwhelm you lol

Answering my first ask (((finally)). I'm kinda nervous lol! Thank you so much for the sweet words, @glowing-alpaca (it wont let me tag you), that makes me so happy to hear. I'm not sure if this is exactly what you pictured, but this is the direction my brain wanted to go lol I haven't written anything based specifically on someone's request before so I really hope you like this!!

"Villain?"

The villain blinked and Doctor Meadows' office came back into focus. He shook his head slightly to dispel the thoughts nagging his attention.

"Sorry, what?"

"I asked whether you gave what we spoke about last week a try? We talked about finding productive ways to express your negative emotions." Her voice was soft and void of judgment. "You have a creative mind, have you tried anything that has seemed to help you so far?"

Villain's gaze followed the curve of her pen as the therapist jotted a note down on her notepad.

"How can I possibly be productive when that fool in colored spandex is always barging in, getting in my way? What am I supposed to do, mm? Throw some pottery at him?"

The therapist's hands folded in her lap. "Even if you can't control the situation in the moment, you can still find ways to better prepare yourself, then you'll be equipped to process the aftermath in a healthy way. You can't keep Hero from doing things that act as triggers for you, but you can implement some techniques to control yourself better."

Villain scoffed. "What, you want me to try soaking with a bath bomb, sing kumbaya? Nothing will change until that cockroach is out of my way."

Despite the chill to his voice, doctor Meadow's expression was warm and gentle as she regarded him. She was much more sincere than the cold and demeaning therapists he'd met with at the previous facility he'd tried; or the doctor who cowered in fear when he showed up to his first appointment.

"I am confident that with time and effort, we can find a solution that will help you, villain. But you have to put your best foot forward. You have to invest enough in yourself to sow the desired outcome." Doctor Meadows held his gaze without fear, kind eyes and soft smile settling his restless energy.

She always had a way of snuffing out the tension that corded through him and wound him tight.

They had a connection, and Meadows seemed genuine in her care for him. Sometimes he even wondered if she felt more for him than that.

Villain huffed and glanced around the room, taking in the colorful artwork on the walls, the comforting throw rugs, pillows with silly inspiring catchphrases, and soft furnishings making the space feel inviting. He found it far more disarming than the sterile white, desolate offices he'd visited before.

The therapist continued after allowing him a moment of quiet to consider her words. "I understand that we are a ways away from you being in a place where you feel comfortable giving up your...occupation. I believe that we can work our way there, but for now, we have to take steps to minimize your destructive behavior. The intent behind your actions is the key to why you are compelled to do the things that you do. If we start there, we can make changes that are healthier for you and those around you. What things best calm you and make you feel grounded?"

You, he thought, but didn't say.

"Chaos," he said instead, dazzling her with a sharp smile. He crossed his legs, leaning back on the plush lilac couch.

Doctor Meadows didn't flinch. "So when you feel like your life and personal environment are no longer in your control, it comforts you to inflict that same helplessness on other people? To help you feel less alone."

Villain stared at her. Anyone else would have run and hidden at the look on his face.

Doctor Meadows waited patiently for his response. "Do you feel that that is a correct assesment?" she prompted.

Villain straightened to lean forward in his seat. When he spoke, his voice was low. "What gives you that impression?"

"When Mr. Ma--" her eyes widened as she cut herself off, correcting herself, "--when [Hero's superhero name] isn't around, you--"

"What did you say?"

For once, the therapist's blood ran cold at her mistake. "Pardon?"

Villain braced his hands on the table between them, slowly rising to his feet. He towered over her. "Hero. You know his name. Tell me his name."

Doctor Meadows pursed her lips. "I can't do that, Villain. Doctor-patient confidentiality states--"

"--He's your patient," Villain interrupted again, his smile something too sweet, too manic, to be sincere. Like poison.

The therapist tracked his movements while still looking steady and unshaken.

"Doctor Meadows. Juliet. You want to help me, don't you?" he purred, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "If I knew who he was, I could solve all my problems. Not to hurt him, just to keep him out of my way."

His fingers trailed up her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps on her skin. She shuddered in a soft breath, a blush creeping over her cheeks.

"I am not at liberty to share my patient's information. You should be grateful that I don't share yours."

"Sweetheart, let's not pretend I'm just any client." Villain gently took the pencil and notepad out of her hands, setting them aside. Their gazes interlocked.

"Villain--"

"Juliet," he countered, voice honeyed. His free hand landed at the small of her back and he could feel a shiver run through her.

"Villain," she said, tone giving no room to argue. "If you are not willing to respect my rules and the policies I am required to follow, I will be forced to transfer you elsewhere."

He paused at that. The silence stretched. Could he stomach losing her? His therapist, his Juliet, the only person who came close to understanding him?

How dare she threaten to abandon him?

Finally, she shifted slightly under the dangerous look he studied her with.

"Villain. Do you understand?"

Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat. He clenched his hands at his sides.

She smiled again, and it looked like home. "Good. Take a deep breath. Let's try a few new exercises together to help you manage your emotions."

Part 2

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#this isnt my best but i spent a lot of time on it and that counts for a lot! :)#why am i always writing at 2 am #i have problems #didnt edit very much but its fIIINE #hopefully i can get to some continuations you all have requested soon :)#civillain x villain #writeblr #flash fiction #short story #my writing #hero x villain #villain x civillian #fiction

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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Falling Angels

A/n this literally poureddd from me, might be bad bc recently i’ve hated everything i’ve written (my drafts are full lol)

Series Summary: Y/n is a rising star in the most famous circus in Ketterdam because of her ability to see the future. Unfortunately for her, Kaz Brekker knows more of her backstory than he should, and he’s willing to use that to his advantage. The one thing he’s not betting on? That he doesn’t know her entire story

Chapter summary: Y/n gets a visitor before getting tricked into the most dangerous show of her life.

Pairing: SOC x reader, Kaz Brekker x psychic! sunshine-y! reader

Warning: mentions of sexual harassment, slight cursing, near death experience

Enjoy it, because it doesn’t last. That’s what the older girls whisper, mock casualness attempting to disguise bitter undertones as I walk past them. They say this, sharp nails ready to be covered in blood as red as their lipstick, because the pile of gifts from my ‘admirers’ keep coming. Circus hands keep approaching the long vanity in the dressing room tent, tapping me on the shoulder politely to shove cards and bouquets of flowers in my lap. They don’t understand that the praise isn’t because the patrons of our performances find me more beautiful--they’re desperate for my favor. They’re desperate to know their future.

Looking at myself in the mirror, the pageantry of it all has not yet grown old to me. My hair is still in the process of being styled, my stage makeup is half done, and I am not yet coated in that golden shimmer Senia always dusts across my cheeks and shoulders. But I am more enhanced than I normally am, eyes made bright by thick coats of mascara, cupid's bow made prominent by ruby lipstick. The lip look is more daring than I’ve been before, but there can’t be much harm in change. Not when half the women here keep looking at me like I’m the saint of virginity.

It’s not my fault that the Ringmaster thought an angelic aesthetic would work best for the fortune teller who walks around before the show, reading palms so that people can have their pockets picked. It’s not my fault people want an angel to take the stage and call people down from the audience to get a detailed reading around the crowded circus tent. I don’t pick the costumes, and while I acknowledge that mine shows the least amount of skin, the Ringmaster found a way to dress me as suggestively as possible without ruining the illusion of innocence.

At least the flowing tulle wings that are stitched into the back of my costume are beautiful. It’s easier when I enjoy the good.

“Y/n!” The familiar call of Senia. I turn my head, beaming. “You’re a vision, and all of those jealous girls--you can tell them to take their wrinkling faces and--”

“Seria.” For someone so much like a mother, she often needs to be reminded that not everything needs an aggressive rebuttal. “Think about it from their perspectives--their entire existence is dependent on how sellable they are, how attractive they are to men who only want to use them. If that makes them mad at me because they feel like my youth and novelty is taking from them, then that’s okay.” She raises a fine eyebrow. “I can take a few mean words.”

Seria purses her lips. “Okay, but I’m just as old and tired and you don’t see me trying to poison you.”

I roll my eyes.

“Look, it's our very own saint.” I roll my eyes, Via’s shrill voice piercing through me like an annoying papercut. “And in such a scandalous lip color--has the Ringmaster finally taken you to the ivory tent?”

Ivory tent. It’s been mentioned to me before and always in jest. “Where he takes me is none of your business, if not being the favorite hurts you so badly ju--”

She laughs, the sound is pure vile. “Being the favorite is the worst thing you could be in a place like this. You’re shiny and new and soon you’ll be as used as the rest of us--Seria’s use is waning, what happened to her today is proof of that. Soon you’ll have no one to protect you.”

When she looks at me I see more pain than hatred. “I think we’d get along better if I had it in me to hate you.”

She raises an eyebrow before shaking a cigarette from a small box into her palm. “You’ll get there, princess.”

The nickname leaves me burning. There’s nothing more consuming than fire. “You better pray to the real Saints I don’t.”

via laughs, lifting the cigarette to her lips and lighting it with her abilities. She walks away, turning my threat into that of a child’s.

“She’s right on two accounts.” Seria hums, “The Ringmaster will kill you if you wear that lipstick and Ketterdam turns people like you into people like me. We could save up, pay off your indenture--get you out.”

Seria doesn’t need to make sacrifices like that. Not for me. Besides, there’s no leaving Ketterdam for me. Not anymore. “Being like you wouldn’t be a bad thing.” I scratch my arm, see through material wrinkling as a result. “And I can’t--I can’t just leave. I’m a psychic, no Grisha can see the future. I need the facelessness of Ketterdam.” Her lips thin in protest. “And don’t think I didn’t hear what she said about you--what happened to your foot, and what’s in the ivory tent? People keep saying it, whispering it like there’s--”

“That tent is nothing that will ever concern you. I’ve given you my guidance, and the one thing I ask is that you never ask or go to the ivory tent.”

I swallow once, the intensity in her eyes leaving me raw. “What if he tells me to?”

“He won’t.” Seria breathes. “He doesn’t like that for you.”

This isn’t an argument I can have now, not with two minutes until the show starts. “And your foot?”

She shrugs, holding up a bandaged ankle. “You get older, your ligaments like the tightrope walk less and less. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not tightrope walking like that--”

“Yes, I am. The Ringmaster doesn’t know and he can’t--if I start giving him performance trouble--you don’t know what happens to the girls who can’t pay off their indenture by performing.”

I swallow once. “You’ll be careful?”

“Always,” she grins, “Besides--one day you’ll know enough about tightrope walking to help me on days like this.”

The last time I trained on the mini-tightrope had proven me to be a disappointment. Still, I smile at her softly. I open my mouth to respond, but a quick tap to my shoulder silences me.

“Miss,” a circus hand I recognize begins.

I smile politely. “Please leave any gifts on my vanity--”

“It’s not a gift,” he mumbles, voice taut, “You have visitors.”

Something solid pushes itself into my chest, wedging itself between my lungs. Have they found me? “I-I don’t take visitors. Not before shows, if someone wants a private reading they’re to go to my tent at the front--”

“We’re not here for readings or any of the other lies you sell.”

...Surprising. I let my gaze move from the face of the circus hand and towards the individuals behind him. A man, tall and dressed in business attire--hat and all. His face is all sharp angles and his eyes are emotionless. His leather-gloved hands grip the head of an intricate cane. Next to him is another tall man, dressed a little more casually, with dark curls. Lastly, there’s a girl, with oil-black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail.

“Then what are you here for?”

Seria, never one to leave me unattended around strange men, takes a step in front of me. “I know who you are, Dirtyhands, and I know there’s no business you could find with her.”

What? Dirtyhands? Can people in Ketterdam ever just be normal?

“I wouldn’t speak so certainly.” I don’t like the way his eyes narrow at Seria or the way his grip on the cane tightens.

Thoughtlessly, I stick a hand between them, forcing Seria back slightly. “I apologize, she’s protective--always assuming the worst in people. Though considering she called you ‘Dirtyhands’, maybe that’s what you want.”

Ugh. All I do is ramble when I most definitely shouldn’t. “Want what?”

Eyebrows drawing together, I force myself to hold his gaze. “For people to assume the worst.”

The response seems to confuse him. That’s okay--I’ll take anything over aggressive. “The only people I want to assume the worst are those I want to be right.”

Okay. Dramatic was a fair assumption.

“Seria.” Oh no. I know that voice. I know that voice too well. “They tell me you're injured.”

Seria stiffens, as does every performer when he addresses them. “Not too injured to perform, sir.”

The Ringmaster sneers. “I can’t risk you falling and embarrassing me. Perhaps tonight you’ll make your money by spending the entire show in the ivory tent.”

The way she hardens wrenches my gut. I press my hands to avoid reaching out for her. “I can do the tightrope.” The Ringmaster’s gaze shifts towards me. “I can do it--and I can do it well and I’ll give the profit to Seria.”

He tilts his chin, regarding me in a way a woman should never be regarded. He’s a predator and I’m a lamb that’s lost its way. Still, I hold his gaze. I don’t flinch, even when he moves to brush his knuckles along my cheek. His touch is acid. Pure, burning acid. “The wings I placed on your back are decorative.”

“I don’t need them.” Total bullshit.

“Hm,” he breathes, letting the smell of alcohol fill the space between us, “I’ll allow it.” The Ringmaster drops his hand to his side. “Wipe that lipstick off your face before someone mistakes you for one of these common whores.”

How I don’t throw up at the sight of him is a miracle in itself. By some small mercy, he turns and walks away before I have to respond.

“You’re an idiot--you know you’re not ready for the tightrope.”

“There’s a net,” I try to keep my voice light, dismissive. She remains tense. “Seria, I had to.”

“No, you could have--”

“It’s not fair that you’re always a shield for me. When the opportunity to shield you for once comes, I’ll take it.” Turning before she can protest, I try to walk forward. The stranger places his cane where I intend to walk, intentionally warning me that he decides when our conversation is over. Unfortunately, I used up all my patience with the Ringmaster. “130 kruge.” He raises an eyebrow. “That’s the estimated amount I’ll make tonight, unless I’m late and excluded from the show. Either make up the deficit you’ll be costing me or let me go.”

His eyebrows draw together, shifting his expression from neutrally calloused to something much darker. “Kaz.” This comes from the girl. She takes a step forward. “Look one step ahead.”

“Excuse me?”

“Everyone thinks you’re not supposed to look down, but looking up is just as impractical.” She pauses, expression strangely mesmerized, “Look one step ahead--not at your feet.”

My genuine smile shocks me. “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you, Sankta y/n.” Her head bows, hands held together as if in prayer.

Oh. She’s one of the religious that believes me an actual Saint. “I appreciate the sentiment, but if I was a Saint I’d be able to help people.” No matter what I do, no matter how much blood I offer, I can never help people. “And as you’ve seen--I can’t.”

The crowd’s roaring is a different world to me. On the platform, feet away from the other wooden structure acting as solid ground, everything is different. I am now in a world where the only thing to believe in is a taut rope. The net is beneath me. I’ve seen it--I’ve checked it.

“And for our grand finale!” The Ringmaster calls, voice billowing over an excited crowd. “Our very own angel defies death!”

An odd way to phrase the tightrope walk. It’s never called ‘defying death’. I had been surprised when I was told that tonight the tightrope walk would be the grand finale--I assumed it was because it featured me. I’m always the finale now. I try to move my foot off the platform but it’s planted firmly. No. I need to see Seria--I need to see who I’m doing this for. I force my gaze to the ground, panic rising in my chest.

Instead of Seria, I see Via--her smirk apparent even from here. Spite’s a decent motivator. My foot descends off the platform, touching the tightrope cautiously. And then I move my other foot. All of me is now on this damn rope. I hadn’t been unforgivably horrible during practice, but I hadn’t been graceful either.

Don’t look down, don’t look up--only look one step ahead. One step ahead--one step at a time. Balance. I take another step. The room is so silent there’s no doubt in my mind the sound of my bones cracking would be heard from the back row. But there’s the net. There’s always the net. I take a second step. And then a third--eyes focused on only one step ahead.

And then the phantom of flame comes to claim me. Fire. The world around me is burning. Damning the consequences, I let my gaze fall to the world beneath me. The net--the Ringmaster had an Inferni light the net on fire. Via--that explains the look.

I can’t fall--the guilt would kill Seria.

Panic twists my stomach as I continue forward. One step ahead. One step ahead--the flames lick upwards, promising pain and grief all over again. One step ahead. One step--that’s all there is to it. The warmth of the fire calls to me. Burning. Burning--and one more step. This isn’t forever. This isn’t permanent--either way this will soon be over.

There’s no miracle for me. No good grace, no wings that would let me save myself. There is only balance.

One step ahead. And then another step. And then I see the other wooden platform. Thank the Saints. I grip the ladder of the platform as quickly as possible. The cheers mean nothing to me as I scurry down the ladder.

I feel a sharp breeze, a Grisha putting out the flames. Anger pools in my chest as I move towards the exit of the tent.

“Y/n.” No. Not him again. That man--Kaz, Dirtyhands, whoever he is--needs to go away. “Y/n.” I turn sharply, anger pulsing through me. My expression must be feral, because he stalls. “They didn’t tell you that they were going to burn the net.”

The fact that he can tell--that he can see my panic and how close I came to death twists my anger into something more fragile. “No.” My posture straightens. “I need to go now, I do--I do readings after shows.”

“Y/n.” He repeats, firmer.

My nails dig into my palms. “I’m going--”

“I know what you are.”

Tensing, my breathing stalls. “What?”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kazz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows x you #soc imagine #six of crows imagine #my works #series #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #sab netflix #grishaverse imagine

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dialux · 4 years ago

Text

It is not a dream, whatever they say afterwards.

...

She is born at the stroke of midnight, on the hottest day of the year. Anaire sweats and curses through the last week of her pregnancy. Fingolfin claims to have hauled blocks of ice down the Calacirya for his wife’s comfort, balanced on his broad shoulders.

But none of it matters, because the moment that little Aredhel, blood-slicked and howling, slips from her mother’s body, lightning flashes, thunder claps, and the heavens open up around her.

...

She is born in rain. She is born into a tempest that shatters trees and warps stone. She is born into the kind of elemental fury that cannot be taught, only experienced.

...

“There is not only joy to be had in life,” says her mother, once, tending to cuts on Aredhel’s back that were carved by a bear that Aredhel had attacked, armed with nothing more than a knife and her own courage. “There is duty as well, my little girl. Duty and kindness and love.��

Aredhel laughs instead of screaming. “The day I find love shall be the day of my death.”

“Do not say that!”

“I have seen it.”

“Aredhel!”

“Wish freedom for me, if you must offer me something,” says Aredhel, and rises, ignoring the blood staining her gown and the pain. “But not love, and certainly not duty!”

...

The gown had been white before it was ruined. Aredhel washes it in her own bathroom, scrubs and scrubs until her blood and the bear’s blood finally fade, until the sun has bleached the stains to nothingness.

Then she wears it again, braids her hair out of the way, and stalks into the forest.

She doesn’t return until she has tamed the bear into friendship.

...

Forever after, she wears white.

...

It is a reminder: life is a stain. It might begin clean, but it shall never end that way. The only thing to do is to wash it out, and to scrub until one’s arms ache, and to let the cloth dry out before being stained once more.

Aredhel learns many, many tricks to removing the stains.

...

I will have vengeance, or I shall have death, Feanor had snarled in the courtyard of Tirion.

Anaire does not ask any of her sons to remain. She does not even speak to Fingolfin. But she is in Aredhel’s rooms when she returns, sitting in the silent darkness.

“Do not go,” she whispers.

Aredhel remembers bears and blood and bitterness on her tongue. Her life in Aman has been a cage, glittering and golden, and if the world outside it shall be dangerous- well, she has a knife, and her own rage, and the knowledge to scrub out stains.

“Do not try to stop me.”

“Have you no love for a mother?”

“I will have freedom,” says Aredhel levelly, and watches her mother’s face crumple, and refuses to feel guilty for it. “I will have freedom, or I shall have death.”

...

(She does not tell that story to her father. The one time he asks- they all know where Anaire was, that last night in Tirion- Aredhel looks at him, steadily, until he turns away.)

...

There are unforgivable things. Those boats- well, Aredhel has never been a forgiving person, and she does not wish to become one now.

...

There are immense storms on the Helcaraxe. Aredhel hears, sometimes, Lalwen laughing so loud it sounds like a scream. She does not weep: she has not wept for many, many years. Even as her people- those she trusted, those who trusted her- fall like flies, Aredhel does not falter.

The tears would freeze on her face, and she has no time to brush it off.

...

When Elenwe dies, Aredhel allows her brother one night to mourn. She holds little Idril in her arms, soothing the shudders away, and doesn’t release her to anyone else. Her brothers are with Turgon; her father is tending to their people. What Idril needs is someone who remembers her.

The next morning, Aredhel wakes Idril, and she brushes the little girl’s hair out until it shines, casting more wood than strictly necessary to ensure it doesn’t freeze. Aredhel’s fingers are not nimble enough for the proper braids, but she manages a reasonable enough facsimile for her niece.

Then she takes her to Turgon’s tent.

“Get up,” she says coldly.

Argon is curled around Turgon, trying to keep him from fading through sheer force of will. He sits up when he sees Aredhel, eyes wide, and she bares her teeth.

“Get him up,” she says flatly.

“I don’t think that’s...”

“Get out, then,” says Aredhel, and doesn’t watch him scuttle out. Argon will bring someone- either Fingon, or her father- and all that means is that she doesn’t have too much time. She glances down at Idril. “Watch.”

It is four steps from the entrance of the tent to the bed. Aredhel takes the steel knife she once used to attack a bear with- the knife she’d left deliberately exposed to the elements- and places the flat very cleanly against Turgon’s throat.

Turgon jerks at the chill. Aredhel goes with him, fluid as water, so she doesn’t cut his throat but keeps the knife against his skin.

He is stronger than her. Aredhel lets him finally throw her off- though it takes longer than she’d expected- and waits, because Turgon’s thrashing has finally led him to catch sight of his daughter, his little daughter with her braids done in the Vanya style, looking like the miniature of her mother. The grief in his eyes is simply awful.

Aredhel waits.

And when he finally draws himself around Idril, sobbing but not the terrible, bone-chilling silence of an elf on the verge of fading, Aredhel leaves.

...

“You cannot save anyone,” Aredhel tells Idril, when Turgon finally allows her out of his sight. “But you can offer them a path back. Whether they take it or not is their choice.”

“The Burners,” says Idril, then- that’s what she calls the Feanorians, precocious child that she is- “will you give them a path back, then?”

Aredhel had loved Celegorm, and Curufin, and the twins, too. But she is not a forgiving person.

“If someone burns their bridges,” she says finally, “you do not owe them more tinder.”

...

(That is a lie.)

...

It is not that she is unforgiving.

It is that she does not wish to be forgiving.

...

When Fingon saves Maedhros, Aredhel visits the healer’s tent in the dead of night. She watches the agony of her cousin’s hroa, etched into his skin, and she does not feel triumph.

If she sees Celegorm again, she will fall into his arms, and she will forgive him everything.

But Argon is dead, and so is Elenwe, and so had they all come through the ice, embittered and betrayed. It is not that Aredhel does not want to forgive her cousins; it is that she fears what will happen if she does. She cannot spend her life waiting for a knife in the back.

Turgon wants nothing to do with them.

Fingon will not leave them behind.

And Aredhel does not wish to see another brother dead. She kisses Fingon, and she kisses Fingolfin, and she kisses Finrod and all his siblings, and then she disappears into the night with Turgon, having not spoken to any of her Feanorian cousins since before the Helcaraxe.

...

“Freedom is not a dream,” she tells her mother, once. “I don’t want it. I need it.”

“If what you wish for is total freedom,” Anaire had replied, “you will never have it.”

Aredhel thinks about her mother, who had loved to dance but been forbidden from it by her grandfather; she thinks about how beautifully Anaire dances in the privacy of their home. She thinks about the way Anaire has chained herself down to the thunder and fury of the House of Finwe, and she laughs.

“You would say that,” Aredhel tells her.

...

She builds Gondolin and she leaves Gondolin and she returns to Gondolin.

The day she finds love- the day she knows she finds love- is when she takes a spear meant for her son. It all cracks open and bleeds away, all the rage seething beneath her breastbone, all the fury she’s spent centuries tending to, all the anger that she’s never known the beginning or ending of, and Aredhel is burning with it, blazing, bright as the father who would soon ride to his death and the brother who would collapse under betrayal and the gods she’d once rejected.

She dies from it, of course, but Aredhel has never feared flame.

...

She is set free upon the river, her corpse dressed in the hands of the niece that she’d once cradled so tightly, her hair braided by the brother she chose to follow. To her son she has given her hairclasps; to Idril she has given the knife that once saved Turgon from fading.

(They say steam rose from her body, so great it enveloped all of Gondolin in a great fog for weeks to come.)

...

That knife- that trusty, small little knife- saves Idril and Earendil from Maeglin, atop the wind-battered tower of Gondolin, when Morgoth finally attacks.

...

Later- years later- Ages later- Aredhel falls into her mother’s arms once more. She is a mother now herself, and she has watched and walked beside and touched and loved dark things, and she is not the girl who’d walked into a forest to conquer her fear with not even a knife to defend herself. She was born in rain and died in a river, a High Lady of the Noldor. She was not felled by Morgoth. Poison took her at the end; not hatred, and not blood, and not flame.

She is the first of her family to be reborn.

“Was it worth it?” asks Anaire, once and only once. “Your dreams of freedom- was any of it worth it?”

Aredhel tosses her hair, bares her teeth.

Smiles.

“It was,” she says, “necessary.”

#my writing #silmarillion #tolkien ladies #anaire #aredhel #ig what i'm trying to explore here is how to live with the tragedy of never getting your heart's deepest desire #aredhel spends her entire life wanting freedom and never getting it #not in valinor and not in hithlum and not in gondolin and not in nan dungortheb #eol says in his speech to turgon 'let the bird go back to the cage where she will soon sicken again'#and that is just one of the saddest lines that i've read in the silmarillion #so instead of that i've made aredhel this gal who's absolutely furious abt everything all the time #we can deal w the sadness later

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twdeadfanfic · 4 years ago

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Vows Pt.9

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Summary:

The last battle with Negan doesn’t go as it should, with Negan coming on top, and so reader, Daryl’s girlfriend, offers herself as a wife to Negan if he doesn’t kill Daryl or anyone else. Negan accepts, he won’t kill anyone but will take reader as a wife, and he’ll take Daryl and some of the others to the Sanctuary as prisoners, promising not to hurt anyone if reader is one of his wives and the communities work for him.

This has both flashbacks to reader and Daryl’s story since meeting to now, and the present with reader living at the Sanctuary as a wife, trying to keep Daryl and their people safe, and she and the other wives dealing with Negan, plotting… (This is not a Negan x reader fic!)

You had to wait several weeks until you could put in motion your plan to set your friends free from the Sanctuary. Not only had you to come up with something with as little risk of backfiring as possible, you also had to wait for the best, or rather only, moment in which it’d work.

At first, you’d wanted to do it yourself alone, not wanting to put any other wive at risk, and the less they knew about it, the safer they’d be, but Abby knew that you were up to something, and she hadn’t stopped until you’d agreed to let her help.

Since then, every other wive had ended up knowing about your idea too, noticing that you were planning something…now you thought that without their help, you probably hadn’t been able to put everything in motion.

Just a couple of weeks ago, Lila had come to your room at night, announcing that she knew what you were trying to do, that she’d heard you and Abby whispering about how to get a key to the cells, and that she knew how to get one, and was going to.

Apparently, Arat was on the rotation of saviors who watched over the cells. Lila’s idea was to slip off the wive’s room one night when Arat were on watch and go see her, tricking her to get the key without her noticing it.

You guessed that involved sleeping with Arat, and you didn’t want Lila to have to do that just to get you the key, put Lila kept assuring you that it was okay, that she didn’t mind it at all, and you didn’t have any other idea as to how to get the key, so you ended up agreeing.

You were now pacing nervously around the wive’s room, waiting for Lila. Tonight was the night in which she’d gone to try and play Arat. You were scared thinking Arat might discover what Lila was up to, or that Lila’d be caught up with Arat, or sneaking around the Sanctuary. Lila had told you that she’d be fine, that it was not the first neither the second time that she sneaked out of the wive’s room to go have fun with Arat, but you still couldn’t shake your worry. You didn’t want Lila, or anyone else, to get hurt while trying to help you.

Every other wive was now aware of what was going on too, but they didn’t seem as anxious as you. Apparently, they were used to Lila sneaking out to see Arat, and she’d always been fine, so they weren’t too worried about it…she’d never tried to steal a key to the cells from Arat, though, so you were scared thinking what Arat might do if she caught Lila, although she must know that all the other wives would team up against her and try to convince Negan that she was pestering Lila if she tried anything…but if she was caught losing the key to the cells, nothing good could come to her either, so you weren’t sure how Arat might react if she caught Lila…

“I still think we’re not taking full advantage of this…” Frankie commented, taking you out of your thoughts.

She’d been helping too, but she thought that you all could be doing more. Your idea was to free your friends, open the cells but bust the locks to make it look like someone had helped them from inside without a key, and have them running away from the Sanctuary, the other wives seemed to know a lot about the corridors and whatnot, and about the saviors taking watch, so they had helped you choose the best escape route.

Frankie, though, didn’t think it was the best plan. She thought that your people shouldn’t run away once free, but go to the armory and get weapons, you all would be joining them there, and then fight against the saviors too, probably other workers would join too.

You, on the other hand, thought that too dangerous, both to your friends, the wives, and the workers.

You didn’t know in which condition were your friends, but you knew it was not good, after weeks inside the cells with barely any food, you didn’t know if they’d be strong enough to fight so many saviors, not to mention in their territory…it’d be hard enough even if they were as strong as ever, not to mention that you all would have to get to the armory, which was guarded by saviors, while you barely had any weapons. And you knew that Daryl was still weak and recovering from the iron burn...you gave thanks every day that he hadn’t died of an infection.

Neither did you know how many of the unarmed workers really knew how to fight anyway, and could stand against the saviors, while most of the saviors were skilled, ruthless, and good armed. You knew that Frankie and Abby could work a gun and use the knife, but the other wives had no experience fighting, they had barely put down walkers, let alone kill human, alive people who was fighting back.

“I told you, I want to burn down this place too…” You assured Frankie. “But I don’t want us dying on the process…my people will help us from outside once they’re free.”

You had written a note to Rick to slip it into the cell with the key, explaining everything about how to get out, advising him to hide with the others but not go to any community controlled by Negan, though you didn’t think they’d be that stupid, and explaining that, if they’d try to overthrow the saviors from outside again, you had people who’d help from the inside…you didn’t know how you all could coordinate that attack, you had no way to communicate with them.

“Yes, because your plan from outside worked so good the last time…” Frankie sighed.

“Hey…we almost won…Eugine plan tampering with the bullets worked…they were just way more and with more weapons that we knew, and they tricked us using Dwight.” You shrugged defensively.

“Yeah, Eugine’s plan to send away the walkers that your people left surrounding the Sanctuary worked too…fucking Eugine,” Frankie cursed, and you had to agree, you had hated Eugine for that too, when you still thought he’d betrayed you all. “Didn’t want to help us poison Negan either.”

“I still think we can work that idea without Eugine, we should think about it…” Abby said, and you weren’t very sure of what they were talking about, but it sounded like something you wanted to be part of. “Also, who was the idiot who decided to crash a truck here to let walkers inside when we were surrounded? My sister was cleaning the savior’s rooms and the walkers almost got her if me and Laura hadn’t got to her first!”

You let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead. “I, uh…I’m afraid that was my idiot…he wasn’t thinking straight…”

“Daryl?” Abby scoffed. “Woman, once every fucking savior is dead and we’ve gutted Negan, I’m punching your boyfriend for that.”

“Fair enough,” you snorted…your friends safe, the saviors and Negan dead…could that be a reality?

The door opened and you all looked to see if it was Lila, though you knew it was way too early. It wasn’t her but Tanya, who came from the infirmary, setting in motion another part of the plan.

“Not pregnant,” she announced, her excuse for having gone to the infirmary was wanting to take a pregnancy test.

“No shit,” Abby snorted.

“I mean, I was already there so why not check for real, last thing I need is baby Negan,” Tanya shrugged before looking at you. “But I talked to your friend Siddiq, didn’t give him details, but told him that this night he must let himself be seen all the time, so people can vouch for him, and also next Wednesday night.” That was the date when Aran was on watch again, the one you all had picked for your friends to escape. “He wanted to ask things but I didn’t let him.”

“Good, good, thanks.” You nodded. The less Siddiq knew, the safer he’d be. You also wanted him to escape, but he wasn’t in a cell, being the doctor of the place, and you hadn’t been able to come up with any idea that wasn’t too risky.

“Now…let’s wait for Lila.”

It was late at night when Lila finally slipped back into the wives’ room. She was carrying with her a box of chocolates, and you guessed that’d be her excuse if someone asked her what she’d been doing outside.

“Are you okay? Did Arat notice something?” You asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, I told you I could do it, Arat doesn’t know anything, didn’t notice me getting the key, she was busy,” Lila chuckled, placing the box of chocolates on the table and taking one before flopping on the sofa.

“Okay, okay, good…” You nodded, but you still couldn’t help how nervous you were. “You think she’ll say that she’s lost her key?”

“And face Negan’s rage at it? Would you?” Lila snorted. “Nah, I’m sure she’d just try to find it and hide that she doesn’t have it for as long as she can…she’s not the first one to lose a key, Sherry stole one from Dwight, I’m sure, and there was this other savior too…the idiot admitted having lost it and he ended up in one of the cells himself. Nah, Aran’t won’t talk.”

“Alright…okay…okay, good….” Everything seemed to be working, but that wouldn’t make you worry less about this whole thing. “You got the key, then?”

“Got something better.” Lila smiled and you eyed her with worry.

“What did you do?”

“Well…I was going to be near the cells already, so I took that note you had written for your friend Rick, once there I told Arat to go make sure there was nobody around that could catch us, and while she was at it, I slipped both the note and the key under Rick’s cell door…at least I think it was Rick’s…”

“What?! That was dangerous! What if Arat caught you?! Or somebody else!” You had wanted to be the one delivering the key and the note with the instructions, you didn’t want anyone but you having to take that risk.

“She didn’t catch me, nobody saw me, it’s fine.” Lila shrugged, and you had to admit that maybe she was actually quite good at sneaking around, you hadn’t noticed her taking the note with instructions from where you had hidden it. “I know people look at me and think I can’t fight or do anything like this, but I can, see? Maybe I’d have been even a better savior than wife.” Lila smiled, but you still felt guilty.

“Lila, nobody thinks you can’t do it, but you didn’t have to, you didn’t have to put yourself at risk, you don’t have anything to prove,” you insisted.

“It’s fine! It’s not that different from sneaking out of my parent's house through the window of my room to see whoever I was dating that moment, I used to do that all the time when I was a teen.” Lila shrugged, chuckling, and she nudged you when you still looked worried. “Relax! Come on, you have to look like nothing is going on, there’s still a few days to wait until your friends try to go out, Negan can’t notice, yeah?”

“She’s right, we have to act like everything is fine and nothing is going on, alright…” Frankie nodded.

“Yeah…is not like we’re not used to acting here,” Abby snorted. “Good job, Lila, and you even brought us chocolate.” Abby sat down next to Lila, wrapping an arm around her before reaching to pick one of the chocolates.

“Hey, Lila,” you insisted. “You know what could happen to Arat if Negan finds that she lost the key, right? Or when my people break free on her shift…you okay with it?”

Lila shrugged, but her smile was gone. “Yeah…I mean…I have fun with her, and she’s hot, but I do know that she murdered a bunch of kids in Oceanside, and other things I don’t know about…so…yeah…she’s no innocent…”

“Yeah…”

“Come on, everyone...we have to act like everything is fine…”

The days leading to the evening when your friends were supposed to escape felt eternal, and every hour you spent with Negan, you were afraid you were acting suspicious, but finally, the day came.

Every other wive knew what to do, stay at the room, let herself be seen there, and you hoped that Siddiq was doing that too, getting himself be seeing by saviors and workers.

The other wives had decided that you should be entertaining Negan that evening, since you’d be the main suspect of your friends breaking out, and so you’d lured him into the bedroom as soon as you could, trying to channel your best black widow seductress performance despite your nerves, and intending on keeping him there for as long as possible.

You’d timed the plan as best as possible, but there were variables that you couldn’t predict…how long would it take Rick and the others to be able to leave, would they run into trouble, would they be caught and have to fight their way out…if so, Negan would be the first to know, and so when there was an urgent knocking on the door, your heart leaped to your throat.

The door opened before Negan could say anything, and Abby peeked inside.

“What the fuck, doll, couldn’t wait to join or-” Negan began but stopped when he saw Abby’s urgent expression. “What?!”

“Something happened, Rian is looking for you, it seems urgent, you need to come right now!” Abby seemed genuinely worried, and it was scaring you, but you knew it might be just an act, you didn’t know what to think…

Negan cursed and began dressing up quickly, and while he had his back to Abby, she winked at you, helping you ease your worries a bit. Negan stormed off his room, rushing down the corridor and out the wives’ room, leaving you all there.

“So?” You asked anxiously once you were sure Negan had walked away.

“They did it…I mean, at least they escaped the cells, I know that but couldn’t get anything else, I don’t know if they’re out the Sanctuary or not…”

“Okay….okay…” You tried to breathe, sitting down on one of the sofas, and Noemi sat down next to you, reaching out to hold your hand.

“All we can do now is wait…and we have to keep pretending that we don’t know what’s going on, just in case…”

You didn’t know how long you spent there, waiting, probably less than it felt, but it felt eternal nonetheless, until finally the door opened and a savior that you’d seen around often walked in.

“Y/N? Negan wants to see you.”

“In the bedroom?” You asked, trying to sound nonchalant, and the savior scoffed.

“No. Follow me.”

You did so, the other wives giving you encouraging looks before you closed the door behind you.

The savior led you through the Sanctuary, stopping in front of a room, and nodded at you to walk in. As you’d been walking, you’d tried to remind yourself that you’d trained how you should act, whatever was the news, that you could do it, you’d been acting and performing for months, after all…

You tried not to forget it all as you walked into what seemed Negan’s office or place of meeting. There was a table in the middle of the room, chairs around it, and Negan was sat down at the head of the table with his bat lying against the side of the chair.

“What’s going on?” You asked when he didn’t say anything, and Negan kept looking at you in silence before he spoke.

“Your friends are gone.”

“Gone?” You glanced at his bat and swallowed hard, both pretending to be anxious and nervous for real. “What do you mean…gone?”

“I mean, gone!” Negan snapped. “Gone as in they left without saying fucking goodbye!”

You blinked at Negan before scoffing. “You’re trying to make fun of me…quit it, it’s not funny, Negan.”

“Do I look like I’m laughing, doll?” Negan asked, his voice sounding dangerous.

You frowned at him before sitting on a chair, facing him. “So…you’re telling me that my friends left their locked cells, walked around a place full of your saviors, and left said place, while more of your saviors kept watch on the lookouts.” You said and Negan just looked at you in silence, seeming to study you, so you tried to hide your nervousness. “Is this…is this some kind of trick?”

“You tell me, doll, is this some kind of trick?” Negan kept eyeing you in that dangerous way. “Won’t you happen to know how your friends managed to do everything you just said, get out the cells, knock out Arat who was on watch, kill my lookouts, ran away? I was thinking, dear wife, that maybe you have a say on this?”

You scoffed at that. “Yes, I sent my double to fuck you while I went to get a key to the cells, set my friends free, help them escape, but I decided to stay here instead of leaving with them, because my new husband is too charming for me to want to leave this place and go back to my friends and family, how could abandon you if I’m given the chance, the man who burned my ex-boyfriend with an iron and threatened to throw me to one of the cells if he misbehaved.”

You weren’t too sure of how Negan was going to react to your words, if it might work as you expected it or backfire, but to your relief, he snorted.

“Charming as always, darling, even when you should bite that pretty tongue…” Negan told you, but he didn’t sound that threatening anymore, you could read him better now than when you first married him. “Don’t you think this might not be the best moment for you to say what you truly think of me…and here I was, thinking that you were fond of me now,” he joked.

“Well…” You shrugged. “This life is not that bad as I thought, I can give you that…would you rather I lied?”

“No, darling, I want you to say the fucking truth…” Negan was back at studying you. “You know nothing of this then?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Truth is it? I have no idea, otherwise, if I had known that they were going to escape, I’d have tried to go with them in a second…and you know it.”

“Yeah…won’t you want to be far from your rabid bitch Daryl, uh?” Negan asked darkly, and you just shrugged. “Who did this, then?”

“How do you want me to know?” You shrugged, rolling your eyes, trying to look exasperated. “Who has the keys?”

“They didn’t use the keys, the locks were busted from outside,” Negan explained. “Who do you think would want to get your friends free? Besides you.”

“No one?” You scoffed. “Workers have no reason to risk it, your saviors hate us, so…well, there’s…no, nothing…”

“What is it, doll.” Negan squinted at you. “I told you I want the truth…for your own good, darling.”

You looked at him and then let out a sigh, falling against the back of your seat, pretending to give up. “Siddiq…you didn’t have him in a cell…maybe…I don’t know if there’s a way for him to reach the cells without being seen…” You really, really hoped that Siddiq had followed your instructions and let himself be seen by saviors the whole time, so you weren’t throwing him under the bus.

“Good thinking.” Negan nodded. “Same than me, I’ve been having a lovely conversation with our dear doctor right before they brought you in…It wasn’t Siddiq, he was at the infirmary with a couple of my guys, inventorying whatever the fuck they have there,” Negan explained, to your relief. “Didn’t seem to know what had happened either, and I was very thorough in my questioning.”

You hoped that it didn’t mean he’d hurt Siddiq, but you didn’t ask anything of that, instead blinking at Negan. “So…so you mean Siddiq is still here too, then? He didn’t leave with the others?” You frowned before scoffing quietly. “So they left him behind too…” You muttered.

“What was that?” Negan asked, and you shook your head. “Oh…oh, you think your friends left you behind…” Negan chuckled and when you glanced at him, he was looking at you with a smirk, but you just shrugged.

“I think…I think that somehow they found themselves free, and they managed to leave this place, without bothering on checking if they could take me, the person who agreed to marry you and shag you to keep them safe and alive, with them when they escaped, because yes, why would they do that,” you blurted out, pretending that you hadn’t rehearsed it, and Negan chuckled at it.

“Oh, darling…” Negan’s dark smirk grew. “I’d say you’re sounding kind of bitter…I thought you’d be jumping in joy…and I thought your dog would never leave this place without you…”

“Yeah, you and me both…” You muttered bitterly…you were relieved Daryl had left, though, you were afraid he wouldn’t leave without you, and you had told Rick on your note to do anything that he needed in order to take Daryl with him.

“Well, well…maybe I’m starting to seem more charming to you now?” Negan teased you and you glared at him. “Here you are, admitting that you’d leave me at the first chance…while I wouldn't have left you behind like your friends did, you know…”

“Yeah, I’m sure if there’s a fire at the Sanctuary, you’d carry all your brides to safety before saving your own skin,” you scoffed and Negan just chuckled.

“I would.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed again. “If you didn’t want me to admit that I’d leave this place at the first chance, you shouldn’t have made me say the truth.” You shrugged. “So if you’re going to punish me for it, just go ahead already.”

“I’m not going to do anything to you, doll, I’ll let it pass…It’s not like I didn’t know it already.” Negan chuckled darkly. “And I’m not going to punish you for being honest and saying the truth when I ask you to.”

You didn’t say anything to that, just shook your head bitterly.

“Jumping in joy…” You repeated Negan’s words. “You think I’d be jumping in you if they escaped? They were idiots…” You sniffed, swallowing hard, trying somehow to summon tears to your eyes. “I took this deal to keep them safe! I’ve kept them safe, didn’t I?!” You ranted. “But no, they didn’t seem to trust me to keep them safe, they had to run away…and now, now when you find them, you’re going to kill them, no matter our deal, right?”

Negan nodded. “You know I have to do it, doll, can’t have people thinking that they can try to run away without consequences.”

You sighed, letting yourself fall against the back of the seat again, before looking at Negan. “All of them? Can you just…spare all but one or something, kept the others locked again or…I don’t know…” You said, trying to sound desperate.

“What, you wanna be the one picking who I kill?” Negan chuckled darkly and you glared at him with tears in your eyes. “Haven’t decided, doll…Rick and Daryl…you know I’ll kill them, darling, you know I have to,” Negan said and you nodded, closing your eyes tight as you swallowed hard. “Rosita and Eugine…those two are useful…might kill them anyway, but…” Negan shrugged. “Dwight, second time that rat crosses me…”

“Wait…Dwight?” You interrupted Negan. “You’re telling me…you’re telling me that they took Dwight with them, but couldn’t spare a second to try and get to Siddiq or me?” Negan didn’t say anything, but his smirk grew and you glared at him. “Don’t you dare to smile at that or…”

“Or what, darling?” He asked, but he sounded more teasing than threatening.

“Or nothing…” You let out a defeated sigh. “Got nothing I can do…but…” You chuckled darkly before looking at Negan. “You got nothing on me anymore, either. The people I was protecting with our deal are gone…you got nothing on me…you said I wasn’t here against my will…”

“What is this, doll, you saying you're dumping me?” Negan squinted at you.

“Well…maybe you know any other place where I can get a bed as comfortable and a supply of chocolate? If you don’t, then I guess I’ll have to stay married to you.” You blinked at Negan and he smirked.

“I’m afraid I don’t, darling…and I’m sure your bedroom is way more comfortable than the cell where I’ll have to keep your pretty ass if you don’t want to be married to me anymore.”

“Then I guess I’m still your wife…worse things in the world, I guess, than a comfortable bed and a supply of sweets…” You joked.“So…yeah, yeah, I’m still married to you even if there’s no deal anymore, even if I’m not protecting my family anymore.” You knew you served your people better as a wife on the inside, than locked and unable to do anything.

“Your family…” Negan chuckled. “The way I see it, doll, your family just abandoned you without looking back.”

“Don’t say that,” you pretended to snap, glaring at him.

“What, you said it yourself, love,” Negan smirked at you. “They didn’t even try to help you out, not even your dog, after all you did for them…they got their chance, they seized it, I don’t judge.” Negan shrugged. “But…I told you, I wouldn't have left you behind like that…so, darling, maybe you want to start reconsidering where your loyalty lies from now on…”

If you enjoyed this, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, thanks.

Also, as always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

New taglist for Daryl,I trimmed it, if you want to be tagged let me know and also, please, if you are not interested in being tagged anymore let me know too

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