#she trap me with a false sense of security

[honeyhour]

kissing is nothing new to jackie. for better or worse, she’s lost count of the amount of people she’s gotten intimate with over the years and by a certain point, she was sure she’d seen everything a person could possibly have to offer. somehow, this is different. it’s as if she’s not in control of her own body anymore, invisible strings pulling at her limbs like a puppet until she’s pressed against him, kissing him soundly while her hand loosens its grip around his throat. setting the innocent little rabbit free from her trap. “i still could… maybe i’m luring you into a false sense of security. you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” it’s a feeble excuse even to jackie’s own ears, but she’ll be damned if she outright admits that ethan has successfully placed a seed of doubt within her heart when nobody else could. she still hasn’t figured out how the fuck he’s done it in the first place and a frustrated huff leaves her lips at the thought. “this is your fault.” and for once, she chooses to channel the emotion into passion rather than violence, pulling him back in to taste the sweetness on his tongue.

it’s not what he expected - not really. the way she had tensed, the way her grip had tightened just enough to remind him of exactly what she was capable of, had him bracing for something sharper, something final. but instead, her lips press against his, firm and urgent, and fuck, maybe he really is concussed because instead of pulling away, instead of fighting, he sinks right into it. his hands find her waist, not to push her off, but to hold. his fingers press into her sides, feeling the way she breathes against him, and when he exhales, it’s shaky for an entirely different reason. he should be afraid. he knows he should be afraid. but all he can focus on is the warmth of her, the weight of her body against his, the way her grip around his throat is tight but not crushing - like she’s just as caught in this as he is. his lips part against hers, slow, teasing, like he’s daring her to take it further. like he’s telling her, if this is how i go, then make it worth it. his thumbs skim just under the hem of her shirt, fingertips brushing over bare skin, and when he pulls back just enough to breathe, his voice is softer now, almost smug. “see?” he murmurs, words just a whisper against her lips. “told you you wouldn’t bite.”

[ohumokay]

I gotta start tracking my period bcuz wtf is homegirl doing 😭😭

[v3nusxsky]

Write the wandanat smut... for the sake of my mental sake I need your brilliantness (only write it if you want to)

Mommy’s toys 18+

*Authors note~ this one lives in my brain rent free. I’m so excited to give this idea from @wandaslittlebird and put my own spin on it. Also having a rough day so I had to reach into my wips to finish this off. *

Trigger warnings~ voyeur dom! Wanda dom! Nat x sub reader, voyeurism (new kink) edging, oral, strap on, sex toys, daddy Nat, mommy Wanda , degrading kink, praise if you squint?

Prompts~ see ask^^^^

Stumbling across voyeurism was never meant to affect Wanda this much. So much so it’s all she can think about. She knew her girlfriends would never be against trying something new in the bedroom but the possibility that Natasha or yourself might dislike this new found desire of hers still unsettled her. Wanda loved to play with you, that’s a given but something about having the power at her fingertips to control your pleasure just makes her feral. Focusing purely on watching every little movement as your pleasured by Nat under her commands. Even just thinking about it riles her up. That accidental discovery planting its strong roots of desire within Wanda refusing to let go.

Natahsa was the first one to notice the change in the witch. Subtle but to her trained senses she couldn’t miss it, you however remained oblivious. With you on a mission Natasha had the perfect chance to sit down with Wanda and discuss what was so evidently on her mind these days. Wanda couldn’t help but be relieved when Nat listened and even reminded her how much you love being guided through masturbation while they are out on missions. Neither you or Natasha would shame Wanda for wanting to explore and try something new. And it was from there that your loving wives hatched a plan to bring the desire to fruition.

Unknowingly you fell into their trap. Days stretching on where they let bratty comments slide, lulling you into a false sense of security. You continued to get bolder with each passing day, testing the carfully arranged boundaries in order to gain a slither of their attention. Both of your wives continued to ignore your bratty behaviour until Nat was called for a last minute intel mission. Wanda couldn’t help but give into her dominant side. Natasha would understand if she got you ready for the evening.

“Mommy” you whined again for fifth time in quarter of an hour. “Fine” you huffed at the silence that followed, “perhaps Carol would want me.” It was a low blow, you knew that. Wanda and Natasha are very protective of you, both having high levels of jealousy and dominance. “Brat” was all Wanda muttered in response before her magic reached out to restrain you. Red whips wrapping around your torso with a practiced ease. “Mommy! Let me go” you squealed in response with flailing limbs fighting against her tight magical hold.

“No.” A simple statement. One you weren’t expecting due to the previous comments being ignored. “Daddy” you whimpered pathetically continuing to squirm as her forest green eyes raked over your bound figure as she returned to your shared room. “Don’t daddy her dekta, you’ve been practically begging for this for days now, and now what do you say Nat, want to play with our brat?”

Magic provided the ease for Wanda to strip you bare with her mind and bind you to the bed. Fully on show for your lovers as the paid you no mind, wrapped in each others arms, lips entwining as you helplessly watched. “Welcome home Dekta” Wanda mumbled against Natasha’s lips, nimble fingers stripping her from her suit with a practiced ease. The way she would run her hands over the newly exposed skin was driving you wild. You want to touch! “Share mommy” you pouted before you even realised what you said. The pathetic whimper gained you a slither of attention as Wanda commanded Nat to shut you up.

Heaven. The way she plunged her skilled tongue into your aching core, the skill she had to trace intricate patterns on your throbbing clit always amazed you, her strong grip pinning your thighs open, allowing her to reacher deeper within you. Your slick covering her lower face as she ate you out like a starved animal. “Stop” Wanda demanded when your thoughts of cumming on her tongue got too loud. You weren’t to come till she said so. The annoyed whine you let loose when the red head removed herself from your aching cunt was magical. She should’ve recorded it.

“Here, use this on her, don’t let her come Dekta, I’ll reward my good girl if you can do this for me” Wanda murmured, handing Nat your favourite vibrating toy before bringing her in for another kiss, moaning as the taste of you seeped into the kiss before removing herself to sit on the chair on the other side of the room. “Put a show on for me baby. Show mommy how badly you want to come.”

Natasha is a skilled lover. There’s no doubt about it. The way she works you up so perfectly only to rip the pleasure away at the perfect time is maddening. Truly. The sounds clawing their way from your throat as you fought the magical bindings didn’t seem human. All while feeling the witches intense gaze on you. The way she was clearly taking in every little detail. If you had the upper hand you maybe would’ve commented she should take a picture. It would last longer. But right now the only thing you knew was the feeling of the vibration assaulting your puffy clit. “Please daddy! I wanna cum for you. Please daddy feel so good” you mewled feeling the beautiful pain of being on the edge once more. You just needed a bit more. A firm press of the toy would do. Only for the red head to remove everything instantly. “Fuck sake!” You practically screamed with frustration. This isn’t fair.

You couldn’t help but whine in frustration when you heard wands chuckling to herself and praising Natasha for a job well done .”Poor baby.” Wanda cooed teasingly, “Do you want daddy's cock, baby? Do you think you're ready for daddy to fuck you?" It didn’t occur to you, Natasha was being incredibly submissive to the witch, maybe you would’ve if your mind wasn’t clouded by the denial bestowed on you. “Hmm, I'll think I'll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the 'mean ridges'? The ones that scrap against your special spot so perfectly?" Well you were fucked.

“And I think I want you on the bed just like this, on your hands and knees. I wanna watch those pretty little tears run down your face while daddy fucks you." Wanda freed your limbs before coming to position you where she wanted you, Nat seemingly following the instructions and began to strap up. The pure power play of Wanda being the only party clothed was certainly noted on your part. But the second you tried to pull at her shirt, she tutted at you like a disobedient puppy. “Leave it” was all she offered you before returning back to her seat, admiring your position as your chest heaved trying to calm down properly. She’d never seen you so riled up before from only one of them touching you.

“And don't even think about letting your arms give out. If can't see your pretty face, I'm gonna make daddy stop, understand?" She threatened as your arms began to shake with the weight of holding your body weight battling your desperation. “Wands, she’s leaking on the sheets” nat murmured eyes glued to your leaking pussy as she moved to find her place in Wanda’s scene fully strapped up. “Because she is a desperate whore for us Natty. Were you good for me? Hmm or do I need to check you set up right?” Being on show like this and being ignored wasn’t your favourite way to spend your time but if anything was clear, you were better to play along than fight back. “Did everything you asked Mommy” Nat teased back chuckling when you whined at the title.

“Go on Dekta, make her cry for me. Let mommy see her toys playing perfectly together.” Your new position allowed you to gaze into wands eyes as Nat pushed into your eager cunt. You couldn’t help but whimper, “daddy,” at the stretch she created. “Fuck so pretty, taking me so well Dekta” Natasha murmured appreciatively, eyes glued to watching you drag her deeper inside. “Please” you practically sobbed, desperate for more. Anything. Yet no matter how much you pleaded with her to move, Natasha waited for Wanda to demand it.

“Such a desperate slut, you haven’t worked out what’s going have you darling? Daddy won’t listen to you, she’s my toy who’s using my other toy for me. So be a good girl and take what we give you” Wanda muttered before nodding to her other lover. The way she slowly pulled out so just the tip of the faux cock was inside of your greedy little hole before slamming back into your warmth. “Oh Natty keep going our dumb little slut likes it rough” Wanda called chuckling as your mouth fell open into an “O” shape. The way her hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises as she drilled herself into you almost distracted you from watching Wanda’s hand sneak into the waist band of her trousers. Almost.

It didn’t take long for the pace to drive you insane, moaning like a common whore your arms gave out. “Out” she demanded and Natasha complied slipping from your messy cunt. “No no no! I’m sorry please no mommy” you sobbed struggling to push yourself back into position. Tears streaming down your cheeks at the continued denial. “Cry for me Dekta. So pretty when you cry for mommy. I did warn you. Cause a dumb little bitch can’t listen when she needs to be fucked dumb.”

This time there was no warning as she plunged into your core again, instantly falling back into her ruthless pace. You trained your gaze on Wanda, determined to follow her desire and enjoy the show. Your tears started to mingle with the slight drool leaving your mouth as you were pushed to the edge for whatever number it was tonight. “Please oh god mommy please make daddy make me cum. Wanna cum for mommy please” you sobbed, desperately wishing to get what you need. The orgasm you were given was nothing short of magical, your inner walls milking the dildo for all it was worth, Natasha grunting as she fell with you, continuing to dig herself deeper into you. Wanda was next, the sight and sound of her lovers enjoying themselves caused her to fall too, hips bucking against her own fingers. “Natty stop” Wanda murmured, taking in your absolutely spent body. The way you collapsed after riding the pleasurable waves was rather comical. “Want more” Nat grunted practically sulking as she slipped from your core, cock thickly coated in your slick. “Later, look at her Nat. She’s throughly fucked. Let her rest my love.”

Wanda gentled rolled you onto your back, stroking your sweat covered hair from your face, “can mommy clean our sweet girl up?” You knew you should reply, but all you could do is whine In response. So deep into bliss you forgot how to form words. Together your lovers worked on cleaning you up and settling in to bed, your head on Wand’s chest as Nat was the big spoon. “Good girl for us Yano that? Our best girl” was the last thing you remember hearing before sleep claimed you.

Word count~ 1884

[riacte]

hermitcraft horror story staring false and ren in which it starts out as a fun silly haha world tour but after they pick up a bag at tango’s storage, they can’t find anyone— at least, anyone that can interact with them in some sort of meaningful way. hermits are afk, mysteriously run away, or turn mute. the world seems frozen in time— storages are empty, shops lack pricetags, creepers hide in doorways. no one talks to them. it’s like the world itself has stopped talking to them, the only sign of movement being the flicker on false’s multipass.

eventually things start getting Really Weird (weird even for their standards) so they hide in ren’s base and lock themselves in. the laika companion robot dog (that false gifted to ren) shows up for emotional support. something bad happens within the colony and they get separated, but they’re both able to navigate the colony (thanks to false’s multipass) and it’s a repeat of the house of nightmares lobby (aka. yelling out each other’s names repeatedly, except this time their voices bounce off empty corridors and echo eerily).

they find each other— or do they? BOOM imposter time (doctor who wild blue yonder style). false is instantly suspicious and keeps 10 blocks away from imposter ren (but she does this to the real ren anyway). ren is the complete opposite and goes omg false i found you :D let’s work this out together :DDD. imposter!ren desperately tries to convince the extremely paranoid false. meanwhile ren babbles to imposter!false who nods along. but false of course finds out the imposter is an imposter in a badass “the colonel calls me riza when we’re alone” way and instantly strikes. meanwhile our ren reveals he’s known the imposter false was fake from the start and was lulling her into a false sense of security so he could trap her (knowing he can’t beat her in pvp — this is also a reference to his demise 2 kill). false and ren reconcile. they also reconcile with the robot dog. and the space rats.

eventually they figure out a way to reset the server and turn it back normal with the power of twaddle and technobabble. the key ingredient is the macguffin— squirtiflora. and maybe chives. idk. anyways they twaddle their way back into reality because their back and forth twaddle feedback loop can break dimensions.

everything seems normal. they return the cursed bag to tango’s storage. they finally encounter a hermit (it does not matter who) and false and ren are too relieved to put on their salesman bit. it’s all smiles and giggles, the two leave, the hermit returns to their business. their smile fades. there’s an ominous pause.

false says bye to ren and returns to her base. the phantoms are still in their boats. maybe it’s a little quiet, or maybe it’s just the lack of ren.

unbeknownst to her, inside her pocket, her name on the multipass jolts. something flickers across the screen. then it powers off. her name is gone.

ren is cheerfully humming and making his way around his base and checking up on everything. but then something stops him in his tracks.

in sea of healthy plants, there is one dead plant— the first plant false created for him.

[coffeegnomee]

omg omg omg omg kab vod watching and spoke and bacon locking in on the same day were not on my bingo sheet but this is so amazing.

literally bacon messaging kab "spoke is a bot". bro is playing her. his good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. but he will continue to play both sides.

and spoke's immediate "who do you think you're actually against" ahhhhhhhhhhhh. i love spokeishere so much. the insinuation that he is the true mastermind behind it and she just misses it. but he is already manipulating.

and like bacon is, for the first time in his life, genuinely playing both sides. getting kab's opinion yesterday, swaying how she approached her idea. getting mapicc's opinions and mapicc not caring even though he knows bacon is with kab. now bacon lulling kab into a false sense of security while he specifically told mapicc to get a professional yapper before talking to her.

this is some spoke shit out of baconnwaffles0 and i am so here for it. down to the helping mapicc with whatever he needs for his story even though they're not teamed.

the baconwaffles lifesteal story arc across all seasons is so deadass one of the most interesting and satisfying progressions on the server. He did not start this way. bro was getting banned due to mobs and then deciding it was too late to trap the person he wanted to trap that he had reason to trap so he trapped mapicc instead who was like... why even me you couldve gotten the other person. there was just no point to that.

now look at him.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Got a little bit of an angst prompt but...

After witnessing something go wrong on a mission, Hotch has Reader do a mental wellness check. At first, Reader says he's fine and all that, but the team still convinces him to do it. It goes well, he answers questions (he's honest about his answers. For example, he's not afraid to die because it's just a new chapter to a book). He ends up talking about "these weird anxiety attack things. Like they're sudden and I know what triggers them but I don't know what they are."

In short, the wellness check turns out to reveal that Reader has c-ptsd panic attacks triggered by mostly loud noises, yelling, abandonment. This makes reader break into tears when he's told this because he feels like he finally understands what is "wrong" with him. This surprises the team because no one expects the sunshine guy to have anything related to ptsd

(Maybe a little cuddle party on the plane between reader, Derek, and Spencer? Can be romo or bromo)

Hiya, sorry it's taken yonks for me to write this

Warnings: panic attack, dissociation, blood, gun, mentions of death, hints (obvious hints) to child abuse.

You felt her blood splatter on your face, as your eyes snapped shut with the familiar bang of a gun. You hear the victim fall to the floor but you had squeezed your eyes shut at the sound. Another shot goes off and you force your eyes open as you see the unsub drop to the floor.

You're silent on the way back, blood on your face forgotten as you follow the team back to the SUVs. When you're back, you follow the team up to the bullpen when You jump when a hand is placed on your shoulder, your head snapped up. You looked up, seeing Morgan. It's the look on his face that reminds you that you're covered in blood.

"(Y/N)-"

"I'm fine. I just- I need to wash my face." You said, disregarding anything Morgan had to say, making a beeline to the toilets. Naturally, he followed.

"Talk to me, what's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing." You say, giving him a lopsided smile, face now blood-free and dripping wet. You grab a couple of paper towels, drying your face off. "Everything's fine, don't worry."

The team gave you a few days of peace (minus the worried looks). And by a few days, it was two, so a couple of days, really. They led you in with a false sense of security - a cup of coffee. You should have known they had an ulterior motive.

"Guys, I'm fine, really." You sigh, giving them a small smile.

"Just do it anyway," JJ says. "Even if you are fine, there's no harm in it."

"Do it for us," Garcia bats her eyelashes at you and you immediately cave. God damnit, how is she so persuasive?

And so, a few days later, you were sat in a psychologist's office. It was quite a nice office, actually. And they let you sit on the couch (that's how you know you must have looked like an anxious mess).

"Yeah, I'm fine." You say, giving a small nod. "The only thing is sometimes I get these weird anxiety things?"

"What do you mean?" She leans forward slightly.

"Like they're just these sudden bouts of anxiety," You give a small shrug.

"Can you describe it for me?"

"Er, yeah, sure. It's just like I'm trapped in my head. Like I just shutdown. I don't really know how to explain it," You give a small, nervous laugh. "It's just like I'm stuck in my head and I can't form a thought but my mind is racing, and I feel like I can't breathe."

She nods in understanding, "And how do you feel when that happens?"

"Scared."

"Why?"

"Because its like I'm trapped. And it's just this sinking feeling," You said, swallowing slightly. "And- and it's like I can speak, but I can't. Like the words get built up in my throat and I know what I want to say, I just, can't bring myself to speak."

"And... what can spark these off?"

"Um, I'm not really sure? Like if someone takes a certain tone, I guess? I don't know, it just makes me feel like a little kid and it makes me panic,"

She nods for a moment, jotting that down.

The appointment passes fairly quickly and you find yourself opening up to her as each minute ticks by. When the hour's up, she puts her notebook and pen down gently.

"I think it would be beneficial if we met weekly." She says, with a small smile. "Just to help you work through this anxiety, give you some coping mechanisms."

"Oh God, this isn't one of those things where you say to have a cup of tea or something, is it?"

She gives a laugh, "No, no, nothing like that."

"Good. I might have walked out otherwise." You give her a small smile, letting her know you were only half joking.

When the appointment was over, she let you have a few minutes alone in the room to gather yourself. It took you a few moments, you even tried out the square breathing technique she taught you. You straightened yourself out before standing up and leaving the room.

You go straight to your desk, keeping your head slightly ducked. You just really didn't fancy the socialising right now. You absolutely loved your team, but you'd rather just let yourself try to destress before the questions began.

"Are you alright?" Hotch asks, eyebrows furrowed as he approached you. He had waited a few minutes before he approached.

"Ye-" The word falls flat on your tongue and instead you just pause, trying to find the word. Why couldn't you find the word?

Hotch, sensing this, steers you gently into the unattended office to the right.

"I don't know." Is all you manage. "I don't think so." Hotch watches in concern as you blink. "No. No, I don't think so. Probably not. I don't think I am."

Hotch watches you for a moment before quietly sitting next to you. "Can you tell me what's going on?" You bite the inside of your cheeks before you gently shake your head. "No? Okay, that's okay. Did you want me to just sit here with you?"

You give a gentle nod, trying desperately to focus on breathing. It takes a while for you to calm down, but eventually, your heart starts to slow to a regular pace.

"You want to talk about it?" You shake your head and Hotch gives you an understanding look. "Okay, if you change your mind, I'm here."

"Thank you."

No one brings it up again. Until one morning on a case, you're on edge already, tossing and turning all night but unsure as to why you couldn't sleep. You're at the latest crime scene, it's the third body that's turned up since you've been there and the team are running on very little sleep.

A car door slams and it feels like it jolts through your body, matched with the yelling you can hear, you just freeze, breath catching in the back of your throat. Your father's voice echoes through your mind as he and your mother scream back and forth, the door slamming and the yelling becoming slightly more distant.

"(Y/N)?" Your eyes flick up to Morgan.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You answer quietly, giving him your very best attempt at a reassuring smile. You turn your attention back in front of you, watching a father grab his son's wrist, tugging him back. You know it's nothing, you had just watched the boy go to step out into the road. It's just a worried father stopping his son from getting hurt, but the skin on your wrist burns nonetheless. Your lungs are quick to follow.

Morgan's in front of you, trying to guide your breathing. It's rugged and you feel like you're dying. Your heart feels like it's beating out of your chest, hands trembling. And yet, despite all of these feelings in your body, you've checked out. You no longer feel real, none of this feels real.

You can't feel your calves. Are you supposed to feel your calves? Can you normally feel your calves? What about your back? And your forearms, you can't feel your forearms. That's weird right? Surely you could normally feel your forearms.

"Hey, hey, talk to me." Morgan says gently.

"I can't feel my forearms. Or my calves." You say, you swallow slightly, "I'm supposed to feel them, right?"

"Okay, let's sit you down, okay?" Morgan gently guides you to a bench and you sit. "It sounds like you're dissociating, so we're just going to take a seat for a minute, alright?"

"Okay."

The case was solved not long after that, and you all piled back onto the jet. You had dibsed the couch and halfway through, Morgan approached you.

"Scoot over."

"Why?"

"So I can tie my shoelaces- why do you think?" He gave you a grin, sitting down next to you. "Come here."

You looked around, everyone else was asleep. You gave a small, mental shrug before leaning against the taller man.

"Thanks for earlier." You smiled. "Sorry I freaked out a bit."

"You don't have to thank me. And you didn't freak out."

"I did freak out." You corrected, "I was panicking because I couldn't feel my calves."

"Okay, yeah, maybe you freaked out a little." He chuckled quietly, "But you don't have to apologise for that."

[dekariosclan]

I can't help but send another ask - or, well, this falls more under headcanon territory - your insights into Gale are always so poignant and immensely entertaining!

Can't remember exactly where in Act 1, but at some point Gale mentions that during his isolation he warded his townhouse tower against visitors for their own safety. Now, it's easy to take that at face value and assume he meant standard boring ol' protection spells, but we've all seen his resurrection protocol.

Which led me to ponder the following: what do you imagine the ratio of "practical wards meant to harmlessly deter visitors" to "elaborate booby traps that put Home Alone to shame" is? Does he remember where they all are, or after returning to Waterdeep are there a lot of "ah, must have missed that one" moments while rescuing poor Tav from yet another trap they set off by accident? Is Tara part of the security system?

I just feel your thoughts on the matter would be positively delightful to read

Can I just say, I would legitimately pay a ridiculous amount of money to see a Gale / Home Alone crossover movie.

Ridiculous. Amount.

But since we will never be blessed with that, let’s chat about it here!

You are absolutely correct that Gale talks about warding his tower during his confinement! He mentions it during his conversation with Tav at the tiefling party, if you question him about being lonely during his confinement:

Now, for your ask:

The ratio of ‘practical wards’ to going full “Home Alone: Lost in Waterdeep”? I think it’d be 50% straight up barriers and 50% goofy booby traps…and honestly, I don’t think that the goofy booby traps are just a Gale thing. I think it’s a wizardly pride thing. Remember that wizard tower in the Underdark?! That guy had turrets with laser beams, an enchanted ass elevator, and a robot that needed a hug but would also kill you. Lorroakan had Ramazith’s tower set up with false portals, guards, puzzles that can disintegrate you and again, every wizard’s favorite, those damned laser beams.

I think Gale’s barriers and wards would be straightforward spells. His traps, though, I feel would be 190% more creative. And 190% more GALE, as every single trap would involve our favorite mirror image Gale popping up to say hello!

I think the barriers/wards would do fine for deterring most visitors—Gale did say he’d set up enough ‘to keep a small army at bay’—but in the event of a more persistent guest, Mirror Gale would politely provide ample (and increasingly passive-aggressive) warnings to try and persuade any visitors away:

“Hello there! You seem rather determined to make your presence known! Rest assured your visit has been noted; however, i must ask that you turn back from here. Have a lovely evening!”

“Greetings! You know, I would have thought it was quite obvious by the myriad barriers you’ve had to traverse that company is unwelcome, yet here you are! A more intelligent visitor would have likely given up by now, but it seems common sense won’t stop you, will it? No no, heaven forbid.”

“You don’t quite seem to be getting the hint. Tell me, are you often this belligerent and clueless? I shall make note not to invite you to any parties once my Tower is open to visitors once more.”

“Hello again! Ha-ha, ahh….are you quite sure you wish to proceed? I must warn you that I have been, ah, instructed to incinerate you if you go any further! Ah-ha, no hard feelings of course!”

Do I think Tara would be part of the security system? That’s a tough one, because while Tara CAN AND WILL cast a fireball with excellent accuracy when needed (as shown by the rooftop meeting if it goes sour), I think she would’ve been unable to commit to security duties due to having to go find magical Gale Dinner©️ trinkets for his consumption.

Finally, I would assume that Gale would take extra special care to ensure that all traps/wards have been deactivated when he brings his beloved Tav home—however, I could see there mayyybee being one or two missed. In which case, a quiet afternoon of Tav exploring their new home might suddenly be disrupted by a glowing Gale appearing and proclaiming, “Hello! Ah! Well—this is rather awkward, isn’t it? Despite ALL prior warnings, you have now breached my inner sanctum and sadly, must be punished for it. I shall now commence following you and reading a selection of Elminster’s teachings on the history of conjuration spells, which is sure to bore you so completely that you will long for death—”

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

500 Followers = 500 Words Event: Hyunjin

Hellevator

-> Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Staff!Reader

-> Requested by: Anon

-> Prompt:  Prompt 11 - Stuck in an elevator together. 

-> Warnings: Reader has a fear of elevators. panic attack.

-> Word Count: 767

-> Request: Closed.

500 followers = 500 words Masterlist | Main Masterlist

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

a/n: I'm giving them proper titles from now on.

Y/N steps into the elevator, her heart racing as she bows slightly to the person already inside, thanking him holding the door open for her. The man also bows in acknowledgment, and she can’t help but feel a little comfort that she isn’t alone in what she calls a death trap. Despite her seemingly irrational fear of elevators, she braves herself, determined to face her fear head on. After all, she’s running late for work, and the last thing she wants is to be late on her first day of working at JYPE.  

As the doors slide shut with a soft thud, she takes a deep breath, focusing on the man beside her. He’s calm, engrossed in his phone, and she tries to mirror his calmness as the elevator begins its ascent smoothly. For a moment, she allows herself to relax, the rhythmic hum of the machinery lulling her into a false sense of security.  

But then, without warning, the elevator jolts and the lights flicker, plunging the metal box into darkness and sending her heart into her throat. 

“No, no, no, no,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper as panic courses through her body. She reaches for the button to her floor and presses it frantically, but nothing happens. The only sound that fills the air is the unsettling silence and the faint sound of the emergency lights flickering on, casting a dim glow in the cramped space.  

“This can’t be happening,” she exclaims, her voice rising in pitch as her chest tightens, the air feeling thick as it becomes harder to breathe.  "Not today," she gasps, her mind racing.  

She takes a step back, pressing herself against the cool metal wall of the elevator, trying to ground herself. She closes her eyes for a moment, focusing on her breathing, counting slowly to five and back down again. 

It isn’t until she feels someone grasping her arm and turning her to face him that she remembers there is someone else in the elevator with her. 

“Just breathe,” she hears him say. As she opens her eyes, she meets the gaze of a man who looks genuinely concerned. "Look at me," he says in a calming tone, his eyes warm and inviting. "The elevator should start up again soon. I’m here with you. You’re safe."  

His gentle words begin to melt away the tension in her shoulders. Taking another deep breath, she focuses on the way his thumb softly caresses her arm, a quiet promise that he’s there for her.  

"I’m Hyunjin," he introduces himself, trying to engage her in conversation, hoping it will distract her. “What’s your name?" 

"Y/N," she replies, as her breathing starts to steady.  

"I haven’t seen you here before," he observes, taking a moment to look her over.  

"It’s my first day," she responds with a hint of a smile. “I usually take the stairs but I was scared it was going to make me late,” she breathes, her heart still pounding against her chest. “Big mistake.” 

Hyunjin laughs softly, a sound that resonates in the small space of the elevator. “Well, now they can’t be upset with you for being late,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief. The lightness of his tone makes her want to laugh along with him.  

But just as she begins to relax, the elevator suddenly jolts back into motion. The sudden movement catches her off guard, and she instinctively leans into him, her heart racing again but not just from fright.  

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just the elevator starting again,” he comforts her, his tone calm and reassuring. She can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her, and it grounds her in a way she doesn’t expect. 

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes pulling away from him, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as the elevator reaches her floor. 

She feels a rush of cool air hit her as the doors slide open with a soft ding. She steps away from him, her cheeks still aflame, acutely aware of the proximity they had just shared and that a total stranger had just witnessed one of her panic attacks.  

“Thank you,” she thanks him with a nod, trying to avoid eye contact as she gathers her belongings, her fingers fumble slightly, betraying her flustered state and leaves the elevator before the doors close and he can say something else. A part of her hopes she won’t run into him any time soon, being too embarrassed to face him.  

Little did she know she would be seeing him again and a lot sooner than she expected. 

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[dovithedarklord]

Stucked

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains violence, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

This idea came to me while I was running and I had to write it down.

Just a short story that will have a sequel, I guess.

The story is inspired by this manhwa: https://cloudrecess.io/manga/dreadful-night

If you can, read it, it's great!

........................................................

You stare out of the car window with glassy eyes, and although it's not the first time that the lush green of the forest bathed in the light of the setting sun slips by on the horizon, it still manages to put the tension back into your stomach every single time. The peace out there could lull anyone into a false sense of security. But not you. It can't fool you anymore.

The same female voice comes from the radio, and you already know every single word of that damned song by heart. But even if you would show your displeasure, even if your companion sitting in the passenger seat would look for another radio station, the next time still the same godforsaken music would be playing. This is the background noise every time you return to the starting point, and it has almost become a habit that this melodic introduction starts your suffering all over again.

At first, as you woke up from your slumber in the back seat, the unfamiliar surroundings made you feel as though the vague world of your dreams had bled into reality, and now you found yourself in some bizarre fairy tale. But this is the twenty-second time that you come to your senses in the vehicle moving down the bumpy forest road, and you slowly start to get used to the stomach-turning cheerfulness repeated in a loop, which welcomes you every single time. And it was enough for you to feel the metallic taste of the blood filling your mouth once, and find yourself here again after feeling the icy pain of the knife slitting your throat, to understand that you are not in reality. Although the rough material for your jeans under your fingers, the floral scent of the perfume in the car, and the bitter taste of stomach acid creeping into your mouth seem perfectly real, just like the agony of your latest death, but you've learned that it's all just an appearance. An illusion. In which you have been imprisoned for weeks, and for exactly that long you are forced to die again and again, because you won't escape until you finally find the way out at the end of the mysteries that keep multiplying.

You don't know how you got here, but that doesn't matter anymore. The important thing is that you’re stuck in a game, and you have to find out how to get out of it before this madness consumes the last shred of your sanity.

A loud laughter comes from the front, the blonde girl sitting behind the wheel recounts with a grin, how her ex-boyfriend tried to perform an erotic dance to this song, and how it ended in a late-night visit to the ER. Pam is that typical obligatory extroverted character, whose only role in such games is to be brutally murdered when she's about to get naughty with someone. She's a nice but stupid girl, and it's not her fault that whoever created her intended her to have this tragic end.

Rebecca, your other companion, who only laughs at Pam's story while sitting in the passenger seat, shily hides the blush rising on her face with her hand. And although she's a charming girl, you've seen her bloody corpse too many times for you to remember her blank, worldless eyes and her pale mouth frozen in an eternal scream instead of her radiant smile. She is the first to die. Always. And you might have felt sorry for her in the beginning, but you no longer have the strength to have compassion for someone who only exists in this nightmarish world.

As soon as the outline of the homey cabin appears at the end of the road, the foreboding appears in you like a familiar friend, which slowly closes your insides in an iron grip, as if the pull of the stress that awakens in your veins would help anything. After all, it always ends the same. You search for a clue, you die and you end up here. And the only thing that keeps you from going crazy is the faint hope that the more secrets you uncover in this goddamn purgatory, the closer you get to the exit. Maybe.

The car slows to a stop in front of the location of your late autumn vacation, and the two girls jump out of the car with excited laughter, arguing over who will occupy which guest room in the huge house. The same dialogue, the same room layout, the same ear-splitting giggles from Pam's mouth that remind you of her screams cutting through the silence of the night, as she gets gutted like a trapped deer. You've seen her mangled body too many times for her laughter to revive the images of the delicate, wet glistening of her intestines, as the pale light of the moon surrounds her lifeless form on the cold wooden floor.

With a weary sigh, you grab your backpack resting next to you, mentally preparing in advance to once again suffer through the excruciating play that, like a prologue, leads up to the horrors that await you in the night. You list the thousand steps you have to take to find out where you are in the game, to discover if your previous death was in vain. Did you get a new puzzle that brings you closer to the finish line? Has another path been revealed for you to continue on, one that might finally take you back to the real world? Your chest hurts when you realize that you don't even remember what it was like to not live in this hell. With each passing night, the memory of reality floats further away, and the ghost of tears burns your eyes when you realize that even your real name sounds like a false fabrication in your brain. As if you never existed outside the confines of this dreadful place.

The door of the cabin opens with a loud creak, and this disturbs you from your thoughts that are spiraling into ever darker depths. And as a man appears on the doorstep, you almost taste the bitterness of anger on your tongue, because although anyone would be fooled by the wide grin on his face, anyone would be enchanted by those vivid blue eyes, and anyone would be swept off their feet by the playful friendliness he embraces your two traveling companions in his strong arms with as a greeting, but you already know him all too well. After all, Johnny has killed you at least eleven times, with the same sickly sweet smile on his curved lips, with which he now turns to you again.

"Bunny!" He beams, and you have to use all your strength to suppress the stomach acid rising in your throat from the nausea that fills you from the fake kindness emanating from him. "It's good to see ye again!" He pulls you into a tight hug, as you shamble to the small terrace, and as he presses you to his broad chest, his scent, which you would recognize from everywhere, creeps into your nose. The aroma of his cologne, the saltiness of his skin, and that smell that you couldn't quite place before. The smell of blood clings to him like a faint, barely perceptible phantom that only you can sense. You've witnessed it too many times.

"You too, Johnny."  You reply, each word burning your tongue like poison, but that's the script. You have to get into this act because there's no point in resisting. The story progresses the same whether you oppose it or not. The weirder you act in their eyes, the more the game will punish you later. And so you lose the chance of finding that tiny crumb that might help you get closer to your escape.

And from this point on, time crawls on leaden legs, and you sit through the impromptu dinner with gritted teeth, which was made by the man for you, while he was waiting for you to arrive at his modest little shack. He invited you here to celebrate your birthday. Your birthday according to the game, that is. You remember your own more and more faintly, and this makes you fall into despair enough to drag yourself through the events with a forced smile, like a puppet being pulled on a string by an unknown hand.

Sometimes you have the stray thought that you might be stuck here forever, and that you are forced to fight again and again in an endless circle, without end, without hope. And this suddenly makes the food taste like ash, which you force into your mouth with automatic movements.

"Is somethin' wrong, hen?" Comes the worried question, and blinking in confusion, you look up from your plate to Johnny, who is eyeing you with his dark brows furrowed in worry, as if your behavior would really disturb him. And you just shake your head with practiced happiness, putting a faint smile on your lips that doesn't reach your eyes.

"No. Not at all. My stomach is just a little upset. But it'll pass." You explain, quickly gathering your faux, artificial cheerfulness, because you can't deviate from the story now. Tonight you might have a chance to discover where the last clue leads to, and you shouldn't attract any unnecessary attention if you want to continue your search later. Let everything go in its own way until the shit inevitably hits the fan. But you still have work to do before that. It's only a few hours. You just have to bear it for that long.

This seems to calm him, for in an instant the lines of doubt disappear from his features, to be replaced by that disgusting kindness. And you are already familiar with the barely visible glimmer in those beautiful eyes, which makes you feel like a startled little rabbit being cornered by a fox. Johnny is a threat wrapped in honeyed words and friendly smiles, which was able to lower your guard one too many times. And you paid the price of your carelessness every single time.

And when the whiskey bottle, which was brought out in your honor halfway through the dinner, is finally empty, and the cake, which the man so generously bought for you before he came here, has been eaten, then the essential part of the evening arrives. Rebecca's phone rings, and she hastily apologizes so that she can go out into the cool night and immerse herself in the argumentative conversation she is having with her boyfriend. And you almost start to feel sorry for her, that death finds while she tries to get her love life straight. She doesn't even notice how deep the forest swallows her in the middle of the fight, and she is easy prey in the desolate wildness of trees and bushes. After the first three times, you no longer go after her or try to save her. You can't protect either of them. They are all animals for slaughter in the eyes of the game.

Johnny also retires for the night, claiming that the alcohol has gone to his head, and wishing you a "good night" he goes upstairs to sleep. For a while, you believed that he was indeed sleeping every time, and you honestly fell for the innocent performance he gave you, when the corpse of one of your friends was found. You seriously wanted to believe that he wasn't a threat to you. But then he broke your neck as easily as a twig. You will never be naive enough to trust him again.

"What a pity that you can't fuck your friends." Pam sighs longingly, and she almost undresses the man walking up the stairs with her eyes, biting her lip as her gaze glides over his broad back hidden trapped in the tight shirt. There is no denying that Johnny is an attractive man. It's a shame he's so handsome and even knows it. But the most evil creatures tend to be the most beautiful. You have learned this well.

Finally, you are alone after Pam has also left to take a shower, and you can begin what every nerve fiber of yours has been screaming for for hours. You jump up with nimble movements and hurriedly head in the direction of the kitchen, dropping the feigned serenity from your face. Last time, you found a dirty, yellowed picture in the woodshed, which took a while to decipher, but then you realized where to look.  As you enter the small room, you pull out the photo to hold it up in front of you, comparing it to the room bathed in the warm light coming from the living room. Although Johnny renovated this house, you can still easily find the wall where a refrigerator now rests, but based on the bright red circle in the photo, you have to look for the next clue somewhere there. You slip the picture back into your pocket and try to search for something suspicious with the flashlight of your phone, so you can better see what you're dealing with, there's no other use for this damn device anyway. You can't turn on the lights because that would immediately alert the other killer lurking outside. You learn a new lesson every time you fuck up, but you get smarter with each attempt. You'll be out of here soon. You have to get out of here.

As you peer under the fridge on all fours, squinting, a board creaks under your palm, pressing down a bit under your weight as you lean on your hands. You know that this is a sign, and as you kneel up to look for something to pry open the wood with, your eyes settle on a knife left on the kitchen counter. The whipped cream is still smudged against the cool metal, and suddenly the unwanted image enters your mind as the same blade slowly sinks into your chest, breaking through the protection of your ribs to then penetrate your lungs, pouring warm blood into your throat. You swallow hard, forcing the memory of the metallic taste out of your mouth, and steeling yourself, you wrap your fingers around the knife so you can get back to work, because you can't dwell on this right now. There's no point.

You stick the knife under the board and carefully pry it open, making sure to stay as quiet as possible because you don't know what will trigger the next death flag. Even though you are now aware of the signs and actions that lead the attacker to find you, this miserable game still has many surprises in store. With a soft squeak, the wood pops open, and as a small dark hole is revealed underneath, you take your phone in your hand and cast light on it, and like a wild animal pouncing on its prey, you reach for the small object shining in a golden light. Your fingers find the relic resting there, and you examine the key in puzzlement, as you pull it out of its hiding place. What does this open? Too small to be for a door. Maybe a lock?

The realization hits your brain like a bolt of lightning, and you spring up and turn back towards the living room. The hope that you might find something valuable rises in you, so you hurry through the room still shrouded in intimate silence, to sneak upstairs with silent steps when you reach the stairs. You know, if Pam shows up to the noise, she'll be on your trail the whole time, and that way you'll only attract trouble sooner. It might be selfish, but it's easier to let her die alone than to be hunted down together. You need time, and the more you waste on supporting characters, the less you have left to progress. But even because of this, your sense of guilt is starting to fade.

As soon as you reach the upper floor, you see the door at the end of the long corridor, on which even at such a distance you can faintly see the padlock that keeps it closed. Until now, this fact wasn't important to you, because it immediately became clear that you can only get in if you have the key. You can't hack it with anything else, you can't tear it down, this damn diabolical place will only let you in if you find the right clue to it.

You stalk like a cat in the darkness of the corridor, and the sound of your footsteps is absorbed by the soft carpet running along the floor. You consider your every move, because a new way out is possibly within your reach, and you fear that the chance to find the next important hint may disappear at any moment. Your own soft breathing sounds deafening to your ears, and each heartbeat feels as if your heart would want to burst out of your chest. Every inch of your body fills with anticipatory tension as you creep closer and closer…

And then you hear the voices.

At first, the muffled sighs seem like nothing more than the soft snores of one of your sleeping companions, but then you hear a moan, and you are overcome with confusion. The closer you get to the door opening from the middle of the corridor, the louder the panting and the gentle rustling of the bedsheets become, and you try to recall who could be hiding there according to the script. But nothing comes into your mind, because that room has been empty until now, without role or importance.

And as soon as you get close enough, you understand what is going on behind the door left ajar. The only source of light in the darkness of the room is the moon peeking through the window, but you can perfectly make out the movements of the tightly entangled figures. Johnny looks almost otherworldly as the pale light paints the dance of the corded muscles on his back as his mouth smooths over Pam's throat, eliciting a lustful moan from her. One of his strong hands slides along her breasts, and soon after his lips stray there, he almost viciously bites her nipple, to receive a pained gasp in response. His palm rests on her hips, and as he digs his fingers into the soft flesh, his hips only meet hers with vigorous movements, filling the heavy air with almost obscene, wet sounds. And as he kneels up, his fingers glide along her thigh almost teasingly, so that, hooking his hand in the bend of her knee, he directs her leg to his shoulder, locking it in a vise-like embrace that makes his biceps bulge. He brushes his lips against her calf, and you see his teeth flash for just a moment before he sinks them into the delicate skin, drawing a lewd whimper from her mouth opening in surprise. His movements are restless, each thrust seems violent and desperate, and she just grabs at the sheet and starts pleading, encouraging him in tears to sink his cock into her pussy just a little bit harder. And with each passing moment, Johnny looks more like a beast lost in his pleasure, as low grunts and moans erupt from his throat as he pushes himself closer and closer to the edge. And your feet are almost rooted to the ground, and you're unable to tear your eyes away from them, as you lose control over your body from shock and disbelief. Even though you know you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be watching them, suddenly too much information rushes through your senses into your brain to process what is happening.

But as Pam's back arches with a loud cry, and Johnny's hips stutter with a growl-like sound, the surreal image ends, because the man turns his head towards you as if he knew you were standing in front of the door, frozen in astonishment. Your stunned gaze meets his eyes, dilated pupils swimming in lust, and you feel like a deer stuck in the headlights, waiting to be hit by a car speeding towards it. His mouth stretches into a lazy, satisfied grin as he slides out of the panting girl and slowly begins to rub his cock, as if to tell you that it could be you if you would just give in to the temptation.

And that clears your mind in the blink of an eye, and you back away hastily, almost running to the door resting at the end of the corridor, before you would have time to further analyze the features of the man's face filled with post-orgasm bliss. What the hell is this new scene? This has never happened before…

You reach for the lock hanging on the door with trembling hands, but your fingers are still clumsy from the adrenaline pumping through your veins, and they only find the keyhole after many tries. And in the middle of your fumbling, you don't even notice how a dark shadow appears behind you, and you only realize that you're late and have failed, when a gloved hand grips the back of your neck and smashes your head into the hard wood of the door with an almost painful strength. The force of the impact resonates through your skull, and you clench your teeth with a yelp as the sharp pain rips through your head.

Black spots swim into your field of vision, and you have trouble when you try to focus your eyes to decipher who attacked you this time. And as soon as you catch a glimpse of the skull-like mask out of the corner of your eye, you realize that this time you only managed to get this far. When the knife glints in the killer's hand as he strikes you, you only bitterly realize through the blood filling in your mouth that the game is trying to divert you from the escape with more and more vile methods. Because you're convinced that Johnny's action was just another death flag that ended your search prematurely. And you surrender yourself to the darkness with the knowledge that you cannot let this happen again...

~

When you come to, you're sitting in the back seat again, and the melody of familiar music reaches your ears only as a low hum, because you know you're back at the beginning of the game. But what worries you much more is that you walked into a scene the previous night, which not only completely deviates from the usual pattern of all the events until now, but also represents a downright disturbing new development. So far, the script hasn't gotten sidetracked from the main story in the case of the supporting characters, and Pam should have been waiting in the shower for the killer to appear when you sneaked up to find the door with the lock. The fact that this story has changed so drastically helps the icy fingers of dread wrap around your stomach. Because you have no idea what kind of difficulties this will cause you.

The usual conversation takes place between the two girls, and when you arrive at the wretched cabin, they leap out of the car with the same enthusiasm, as if they weren't heading towards another painful death. But it doesn't matter to them anyway, because surrounded by carefree ignorance, they don't even know what awaits them.

When the door opens and Johnny's well-known figure appears, his face filled with desire flashes before your eyes almost on a cue, and you forcefully push the memory out of your head. This little interlude distracted you just enough to know you shouldn't fall for the game's nasty tricks again. Because you are more and more certain that it actively wants to hold you back and trap you here forever. The heated spectacle of the previous evening can only be due to this…

"Bunny!" The man greets you with the same bursting, false joy that he always shows you, but now you have to forcefully drive away the moans echoing in your ears, which surface in your head when you hear his deep voice. "It's good to see ye again!"  He says enthusiastically, and as his strong arms wrap around you, every single muscle of yours tenses, as the stress wakes up in you as a result of the fear that grips your insides. But it's even more worrying, as new fragments of memories flood the canvas of your mind, because the experience of seeing those hands glide over the body of your companion is too fresh to quickly overcome your embarrassment.

But you don't have time to think about how to get over these tangled emotions and continue the play, because suddenly you feel the man's hot breath on your ear, and in an instant, every part of you freezes like a frightened animal when the predator digs its claws into it.

"I hope ye liked what you saw, bonnie." The man grunts softly, and for a moment you think you misheard it. But as one of his hands creeps down to rest on your waist, and he presses you closer to him, the air gets trapped in your lungs with an almost painful force. "Because ye'll be next..." He whispers, and in his voice lies such a dark promise that it makes your blood run cold.

And as if nothing had happened, the moment ends suddenly, and as he steps away from you, he only looks down at you with his usual nauseating smile. But you see the dangerous predatory sparks in his eyes, and his gaze makes the little hairs rise up on your neck. And you soon realize that something is very wrong with the game. Fuck.

[lilislegacy]

I feel so bad for you. You have always been so scared of posting controversial stuff on here because you dont want to offend anyone or get hate but we kept on asking for it because you’re takes are always so amazing and spot on. And then you got some of the worst hate I have ever seen. I mean 2 blogs posting about you, with full comment sections calling you names, attended by awful anon comments in your ask box with death threats and personal attacks. Like what kind of twisted forces made it so that YOU were rained down with that shitstorm when you are maybe the most level headed pro percabeth poster out here?

I kinda feel bad because WE encouraged you and begged for it and we all told you it would be okay. And then it wasn’t okay and you might be in a really bad place now mentally because of it. So just know that if you want to stop with the hot takes that you were already nervous about in the first place, we understand. I love everything you post not just the controversial stuff and you will not lost a follower or a fan in me if you change it up. Buttt if you want to keep posting that stuff and it does not hurt you do not let them hold you back. You did nothing wrong and you have a right to say how you feel. The vibes they are giving off is “it is not what she said it is the way she said it” which seems extremely dramatic and hypocritical to me lmao but you said to not insult them so I will stop there

Just know that I am here as a follower no matter what you post. I feel like we kind of got you into this and gave you a false sense of security. So I’m sorry for that but I’m always here liking your posts and supporting you! And even though you think its your fault and you walked into it, people on here argue and battle and criticize each other in such dirty ways all the time and the way you did it was very very respectful in comparison. Like you called them out (and you were right by the way) but also legit said that you appreciate them and told people not to attack them. You are clearly a great person and did not deserve any of that

One more thing: To the antis who called a first responder weak and told her to kill herself, take a step back and look at your life plzzzz

First of all, I want to thank everyone for the kind comments and asks. I have received so much support and it definitely has helped kinda pull me out of the place I was. I’ll be totally good soon. So thank you all and I really appreciate everyone ❤️

Now onto this specific ask. Thank you for your nice words. Pease do not feel like it’s anyone’s fault but my own. I’m NOT saying those asks sent to me were okay, but the other stuff I did in fact walk into. And again, the posters were not mean at all and the comments in defense of them are no different than the pro-percabeth ones left in my own comment sections. The only difference is that their comments were targeted towards me specifically, but again, I walked into that one. Plus, a few of them said they were blocking me because of my views, so I don’t think I need to worry about them lol.

You guys did NOT make me post anything. I asked what you wanted and then I willingly wrote posts talking about my opinion.

I have been getting mean asks and messages since day 1. It’s not because of what you all asked me for. In fact, the REASON I responded to that ask with the link to someone else’s post in the first place was because I had been receiving such awful asks that I kinda snapped and chose to directly counter a specific anti-annabeth argument for once. I tried to be respectful, but anytime you respond to someone else’s post, you sign up for some backlash. So don’t feel bad!! My other recent post calling out Percy was also because I was tired of being told Annabeth is awful and Percy is perfect. I was just saying how I feel. It’s not like you guys trapped me into it! I’m a grown adult and I make my own decisions.

That all being said… I am gonna take a break from the hot takes for a while lol. I mean, I get anti-annabeth and anti-percabeth asks regardless, but usually they’re much less harsh and personal. Now, that is not me letting them win or get their way, and I will at some point get back into it with the hot stuff. But for now, I feel as though I’ve said everything that I needed to say. I don’t want to become a blog of animosity or constant arguments against another side. If I post anymore about it, it’s gonna start to feel real repetitive. So I’m moving on for now. I’m also super embarrassed about being involved in drama and want to move on from all this LOL

Again, thank you everyone so much for the support. I love and appreciate every single one of you, including all the respectful anti-percabeth people, and I hope you all are doing well! 🫶

[madhatterbri]

Take Me Back To Eden | L.M.

Summary: Lucius finds himself drawn to a muggle he met earlier in the day.

Author's Note: Happy September 1st.

Lucius Malfoy Masterlist

Taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts

A scared woman ran through the streets, trying to find safety. Men and women with covered faces started to wreak havoc where she worked. They cursed anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross their path. Screams and pleas for mercy were left unanswered.

Rain ran down her face along with her tears. There was no hope for an escape. People who were ahead of her met a horrible fate. Their bodies would fall to the ground. Not wanting to meet the same fate, she ran down an alleyway.

Rats scurried along to hide from the rain and her. She found a dumpster and hid next to it. Scared but with a false sense of security, she curled up into a ball. Her face buried in her legs. Silent sobs racked her body. This was a scene out of a fantasy book. There was no way this was reality.

The sound of shoes walking through wet pavement cause her breath to hitch. There was no way one of them saw her. She slid closer to the dumpster. Maybe it would swallow her inside for safety. Within moments, a man was before her.

"Please don't," Y/N pleaded while staring at his wand. She shivered from the chill and rain. The man lowered himself, so they were at eye level. More tears fell as she tried to back herself away from him. The brick wall was a cruel reminder that she was trapped.

The man lifted his wand towards his face. He muttered some sort of spell. The mask on his face started to disappear. Long white-blonde hair now sat neatly down his shoulders. His pale skin is a sharp contrast to the black garments he wore. The grey eyes that stared at her reminded her that she saw him earlier that day.

"You, you're the man from my shop earlier," she recalled. The man smiled when he remembered. "Why are you doing this?"

The man didn't say anything. He took off a glove from his hand. Cautiously, the wizard reached out and touched her cheek. The woman sat frozen in fear as he caressed her.

[putschki1969]

2025/03/19 Blog post by Wakana ミニドウガ‼︎〜声が大きかった話〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Mini Video!! 〜Story of a Loud Voice〜

Today, it snowed heavily in Tokyo (°_° Tomorrow is Spring Equinox...🌸(°_° But where is spring?

I got on the train today, and something really embarrassing happened😂 As I was slowly heading towards the platform, a train just happened to be there! I thought I would better hurry so I ran towards the door. I was so panicked that for some reason I got on while saying "Whoaaaaa!!! I'm sorry! Excuse me!" in a very loud voice😂 I even held up my arms like the guys from Dachou Club✋✋ [Note: For reference, see below]

While asking myself, "who am I even apologising to?", I suddenly realised that the bottom of my coat had gotten stuck in the door... This time, I cried out, "Oh no!" (Why is this happening to me?? *laughs*) I was so embarrassed that I quickly tried to pull it out, that's when a kind lady rushed to my aid and helped me pull it out😭✨ Sure enough, I thanked her in a super loud voice😂The worst thing was that the car was pretty empty and quiet😂 It was simply embarrassing *laughs*

Well. For the next podcast, let's make the topic, "Something embarrassing you've been through recently"😂 Let's all comfort each other about our embarrassing little stories＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

Now, the talk theme for the upcoming podcast is, "Tell me your favourite Wakana song"! 😊 Please let me know your passionate thoughts! Submit your message here! ↓↓↓ https://wakana-fc.jp/answers/botanical_oshaberi_20/new

I thought I'd try singing one of my favourite songs, so I made a short video!＼(^o^)／ Rehearsals for "Wakana Spring Live 2025 ~Little Dance~" are starting soon so I thought I would post a video of me practicing while being watched by Tet! ! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //// Please pay attention to Tet cheering me on with an encouraging look📣 The video is really short, I chose to sing "Butterfly Dream" (^-^)

I would like to talk a little about the lyrics of this song... "He" is the narrator of the song and asks "Her" what she wants most right now. What "He" wants is to be trapped in this time and space with "Her" forever. "He" keeps asking "Her" quietly so that "She" won't notice "His" feelings. The question is like a spell. "What do you want most right now?" Mesmerising, enchanting. Soft and quiet. Lulling you into a false sense of security...You won't even notice...It's a very scary song if you think about it🤣🤣 But I really like these sort of dark fantasy lyrics! I wrote it wanting to convey a humble dream of the narrator who can't express his feelings well.

So yeah, this is the song I chose to share with you! And it's acappella! 🎤*laughs* I ended up singing such a difficult song acappella😂 It's a bit weird, but I hope you enjoy it!

In preparation for the live on April 10th, I'm once again spending my days singing a lot and challenging my own songs. I'm excited to see everyone soon!😊 I'll also try to share some of the rehearsals with you😊 I can't wait to sing all these songs... Everyone, please look forward to next month! ＼(^o^)／

《Performance Overview》 [Title] 『Wakana Spring Live 2025 ～Little Dance～』 [Date/Time] April 10, 2025 Open 17:45 / Start 18:30 [Venue] Hulic Hall Tokyo [Performers] Vocal: Wakana Music Director/Keyboard: Takebe Satoshi Drums: Tsuruya Tomoo Bass: Hamasaki Kenta Guitar: Ueda Koji Manipulator: Maeda Yugo [Ticket Price] 8,800 yen (+additional drink fee of 600 yen) [Ticket Site]https://www.red-hot.ne.jp/play/detail.php?pid=py26217 [General Ticket Sale e+] March 8~

My days of singing continue under the watchful eye of Tet...✨

Until next time~☆( *'▽’*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2025/03/18 Instagram post by Wakana

Some scenes from my visit to Saitama Children's Zoo last year 🐇🐧🐨🦒🐎🐄 (I actually went back there on my own just the other day *laughs*) I have a lot of photos and videos, but I haven't uploaded any of them💦 I'll share them little by little 🫣 In this first video, I asked my manager to film me while I was buying a yogurt drink from the vending machine 📷️When I inserted some coins, I suddenly heard a cow mooing 🐮 It was the type of vending machine that mooed 😂😂 I was genuinely so surprised, I am glad it was captured on camera😂 The yogurt drink was very delicious!! Thank you, cows!!🍼(Source)

[heartofroses112]

Our Own Choices Deleted Scenes — finding Ahsoka and Rex, pt. 1

The ship groaned, metal shifting around her. She tensed, recognizing the change for what it was: someone was forcing their way into the freighter. Beneath her, Rex moaned, his signature flaring brightly for a moment before returning once more to the hazy darkness of unconsciousness. For a moment, she was two decades in the past, sabers ignited as she stood above Rex, arms burning as she held back the strength of Grievous’s attacks.

Ahsoka snarled, crouching in front of Rex with his blasters raised. A quick push of the Force ensured that his prone form was hidden from sight by her cloak. She longed to draw her sabers, longed to find comfort in their harsh white glow. But giving herself away as a Jedi right away was not the smartest move, especially since she had no idea who she was about to face.

She felt three presences outside of the wreck. Something about their signatures drew Ahsoka in, and she very nearly opened herself to the Force to get more information. She tightened her control of the Force, raising mental shields as thick as the day she’d fought Maul. She wouldn’t put it past the Inquisitors or other Darksiders to trick her into a false sense of security before springing some mental trap or another.

No, Master Obi-Wan had trained her too well against the ploys and manipulations of the dark side. Ahsoka would not walk off of this ship in any other state besides free.

Ahsoka took a deep breath, calming the inner turmoil of her thoughts. She had survived this long by keeping a level-head and not acting until all of the facts were known (Again, something she’d learned from Master Obi-Wan). This confrontation would be nothing in comparison to everything she had done up until now.

For a moment, the only sound was her own ragged breathing. The signatures were coming closer, the freighter creaking as they progressed through the wreck and toward the cockpit. Ahsoka adjusted her grip on Rex’s blasters, aiming them at the doorway.

The doors clanged and shuddered, and then they were being forced open. Light poured into the cockpit, both natural and artificial from the suns outside and the flashlights the strangers had. Ahsoka hissed, eyes squinting as her vision adjusted to the change in brightness.

“Who are you?” she asked, dropping her voice an octave. She couldn’t risk being recognized, not before she had a solid understanding of the situation.

“Are you Fulcrum?” came the response.

“I asked you first.”

One of the strangers sighed, clicking off their flashlight so she was no longer blinded by the brilliant beam of light. It was hard to see them with her hood pulled low enough to conceal her face, but Ahsoka was able to make out three armored figures, their armor dark and their bodies on guard. They each had a blaster trained on her, waiting for any unwanted movement.

Ahsoka remained crouched, guns raised and senses stretched to the limit. Her position was one she found herself in often, although usually her hands were wrapped around the hilts of her lightsabers. Wielding blasters was something she had not done in a while.

When the four of them continued to stare at each other for several long moments, Ahsoka found her patience growing thin. “I said, who are you?”

One of the figures, the one in the middle, moved slowly. They crouched down, letting their blaster slide to the ground with a soft clatter. They kept their hands raised as they rose back to their full height. “We don’t mean you any harm.”

“My ship just got shot out of the sky, so I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“We weren’t the ones who shot you.” The stranger spoke in soothing tones as if calming a panicked animal. Ahsoka didn’t appreciate it. It reminded her too strongly of Master Obi-Wan trying to diffuse a situation that Anakin had assuredly created. “We were here to meet Fulcrum. We saw your ship go down and wanted to check for survivors.”

“None of what you’re saying is assuring me of your intentions.” Ahsoka adjusted her grip on the blasters again, palms beginning to sweat. “If you’re going to kill me, let’s get this over with before I get bored, hm?”

The stranger sighed again, motioning at their companions to lower their weapons. “Senator Organa set up this meeting. He wanted the leader of his armed forces and the head of his underground network to start working together. I don’t know what else I can do to make you understand that we are allies.”

“For all I know, you captured my actual associate and learned all of this information from them.” She let the blasters sink inch, trusting in her abilities to fire before the disarmed figures. “I’d suggest you all leave. If you really are working with my informant, he can set up another meeting for us.”

The figure shook their head as if aggravated. “Have you always been this distrusting?”

“Have you always been this shady?” She shot back. “Is it really so surprising that I refuse to believe the first people I meet after getting shot out of the sky?”

The figure on the left turned toward the leader of their group. “Commander, we’re running out of time. I’m tracking a group approaching from the west; they must be coming to confirm the death of Fulcrum.”

Ahsoka snorted, eyes flitting between the three figures. She felt Rex shift behind her, his arm now resting against the back of her calves. She prayed he remained silent and unnoticed. “Yeah, real convincing.”

Seeing no other option, she waved her right hand slightly, drawing on the Force as much as she could with her steel shields. “You will be on your way.”

The lead figure shook his head as if clearing it. Their shoulders tensed, but they made no move for their blaster still laying on the floor. Their helmet tilted. “You’re a Jedi.”

Ahsoka tried again, ignoring the waver in her voice. “You will be on your way.”

“Mind tricks don’t work on us.” The figure continued to examine her, and she fought the urge to shift uncomfortably beneath their gaze. She cursed mentally, drawing her shields even tighter. It was always a gamble, attempting to change a being’s mind with the Force. But all it had gotten her was more trouble now that these strangers knew what she once was.

Even with all of her efforts to remain as shrouded as possible—with the cloak and the dropped voice and the blasters—something must have slipped beyond her last-ditch use of the Force. The center figure stiffened, and their head dipped, as if trying to find her face beneath her cowl. She tensed, prepared for the worst. The Imperial forces had confirmed her existence, now the Inquisitors would be on their way. A lone Jedi was one thing; Ahsoka Tano was another. There was no way Imperials would let her out of their sight without at least one attempt to bring her down. 

She was prepared for blaster fire and death. She was not prepared for what the stranger said.

“Commander Tano?”

Ahsoka froze. Her heart stuttered in her chest, breath catching in her throat. It’s impossible. Only one group of men had ever referred to her as such, even with all of her efforts to get them to call her by her name. But as far as she knew, all but three were gone, either still enslaved to the Empire or killed far too early.

She raised the blasters in a second, hands trembling ever so slightly as she trained both weapons on the center figure. “Who the hell are you?”

“I think you know, Commander.” Despite the tense situation, the stranger almost sounded… fond.

Ahsoka swallowed, unable to calm the shaking of her muscles. “Remove your helmets, then.”

“Can’t do that, Commander,” he said. “We’ve survived this long because of our anonymity. I’m sure you understand.”

She grunted. Oh, she completely knew the need for secrecy. Didn’t mean she had to like it, especially when her brain told her she could not trust them for as long as they continued to hide their identities from her.

“Commander.” The figure on the left called for her attention. He appeared much softer than he had just moments before. He crouched down so he was on her level, elbows resting on armored thighs. She vaguely noticed that his right arm ended in a scomp link. “Commander, hey, remember that game you would play with the General?” She sucked in a breath. “He was always telling you about Force signatures or whatever, and you would always give him a hard time back and claim you knew more about that then he did.”

Her eyes burned at the reminder.

The figure continued, nonchalant despite his earlier worries of approaching enemies. “So, the two of you would go to the mess, close your eyes, and try to name the most amount of brothers by feel alone.”

“He always accused me of being a sore loser,” she murmured, blasters slowly drifting down once more. “But I know he had Jesse help him cheat.”

The figure snorted. “Jesse was a terrible liar. I’m not surprised you figured it out.”

A lump had lodged in her throat as the clone in front of her spoke. But now she swallowed past it, raising the blasters yet again. “What’s your point?”

“Use the Force,” he said simply. “You know my Force signature. Reach out, see who I am, and then you’ll know you can trust us.”

“And if this is a trap by the dark side?”

The clone shrugged. “You’ll just have to trust me, Commander.” She got the strangest sense that he was grinning. “’Sides, you’ve always been strong. Even if we were Darksiders, you’d probably be able to overwhelm us.”

Ahsoka choked on a laugh. She had let her guard down far too easily; she knew better than to be swayed by a compliment and a story that anyone aboard the Resolute would know. But something about this stranger… well, he wasn’t a stranger, was he? Ahsoka wasn’t sure who he was, but he was familiar. All three of them were.

So, she decided to trust them. Or, at least, trust she could defend herself against them if she needed to.

Ahsoka closed her eyes, stretching out with the Force to brush against the three presences in front of her. One, the leader, she assumed, had shields nearly as strong as hers, and she had no idea who he might be. But the other two…

The one on the right. The one who had not yet spoken. She’d not met him many times, and it took her a while to understand whose signature she was feeling. But then it clicked, and a mental image of Master Secura filled her mind. Bly.That was Commander Bly. Her mind wheeled with the implications of that.

“Bly,” she said. His head dipped in acknowledgment.

Almost fervently, she reached toward the other one, the clone who knew her, who knew Jesse and Anakin and the rest of the 501st. A name came to the forefront of her mind immediately. Ahsoka pushed it away, searching for a different one. It wasn’t the right name, not the right man. She had watched him die months before the Order had ever gone through. It couldn’t be, it wasn’t, it was, it was, it was.

“Echo?” she breathed, eyes flying open. Rex’s blasters clattered to the ground as she hastened to throw back the cowl of her cloak.

“It’s me, Commander. I promise, it’s not a trick.” He paused for a moment. “But while we’re out here, it’s just Corporal, okay?” Even with the vocoder that seemed to be a part of all of their helmets, she recognized the cadence of Echo’s voice, the grumpiness that had always been stronger after dealing with Fives. When she learned of Fives’s death, she thought Domino squad was gone forever. But what terrible things must Echo have lived through in order to still be standing before her? Did he know his twin had saved her life? Saved Rex’s life?

Although she longed to embrace the lost soldier, she held her position, still covering Rex. She trained her attention on the clone in the middle, the one that Echo had only referred to as ‘Commander.’ There was something familiar in his mental shields, something she recognized in the foundation and the construction. “And who are you?”

He was saved from answering by a loud ping from the datapad hanging off of Echo’s belt. Echo cursed, scanning the screen for information.

“How much time?” Bly asked, his voice rougher than even Echo’s. He raised his blaster again, but turned to aim it at the door while still looking at his brother.

“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes at most. They’re getting slowed down by the terrain.”

“Commander Tano, come with us,” the leader said, as serious as she had heard him this entire time. “If you’re Fulcrum, then we can have this discussion on our ship. But we need to get you out of here, and this freighter isn’t flying.”

“I…” Ahsoka didn’t know what to say. She knew it was the only valid option, but with Rex the way he was… and so much of her role in the rebellion came from remaining separate from the larger forces, especially with the Inquisitors constantly on her tail. Could she join them, her friends, in good conscious, knowing she may be putting them in danger simply by her presence? She shifted, wincing as she accidently put weight on Rex’s hand, the limb still limp against her legs.

Echo was on high alert. “You’re injured.”

“No. No, I’m fine.”

“This crash wasn’t one of Skywalker’s.” The Commander crossed his arms, examining her again. “You’re not fine. But…”

“Ahsoka.”

She turned in an instant, falling to her knees at Rex’s side as he groaned her name. His eyes remained closed, and she sensed him fading once more. She grabbed his hand, placing her free one against his cheek. “I’m here.”

He squeezed her hand ever so lightly. “Ahsoka,” he breathed out again, and then he was gone, mind dragged under as his subconscious forced his body to rest and heal. She watched him for another long moment, searching his bare face for any sign of discomfort or pain.

“Rex.” The Commander nearly choked on the name, voice so full of feeling and pain. With her mind still open to the Force as it was, she felt as his shields buckled before collapsing, emotions bursting out as his presence spilled and swirled in the cockpit.

Ahsoka gasped, nearly overcome with the power of the Commander’s thoughts and feelings. Before she knew it, he was crashing to his knees beside her, reaching out with trembling hands to brush against the top of Rex’s head, almost as if he didn’t really believe the old captain was really there. She could barely breathe; the Commander’s signature was so strong, so powerful, so overwhelming.

It was so completely and undeniably Cody.

A broken laugh pushed out of her mouth, and she stared at the side of his helmet, imagining the face beneath, curling scar and harsh features undercut by soft eyes. He wasn’t looking at her, attention fully locked on the injured brother at his feet. His hand now rest gently on Rex’s head, gloved thumb rubbing against the faint, silvery scar on Rex’s forehead.

“What happened?” She’d never heard him show emotion so plainly, not even after Kadavo when Master Obi-Wan and Rex had been in bad shape. Ahsoka tried to imagine how it must feel, thinking Rex had been dead for the past seventeen years. She shuddered. It was too terrible. How had he managed?

She forced herself to focus. “His side of the ship got hit. He was thrown before we even crashed.” Ahsoka squeezed Rex’s hand tightly, hating the lack of a response. “He wasn’t wearing his helmet when we went down. He might have a concussion, I’m not sure.” She swallowed hard. “He hasn’t woken up yet. That was the most responsive he’s been.”

The Commander continued to kneel at her side, and they stared down at Rex for another long moment.

“Commanders.” Bly coughed, drawing their attention. Ahsoka turned, lekku thrown over her shoulder with the motion. She felt the pain in his mind as he watched her. “Rex is gonna be fine, he always is. But we have only a few minutes before we have company, and in your condition, sir, I don’t know if the three of us can fight them all off.”

“I can still fight,” Ahsoka argued, letting go of Rex’s hand as she rose to her feet. “I’m a little bruised, sure, but—”

“I was talking more about the Commander, sir.” Ahsoka got the sense that Bly was embarrassed.

It took the Commander a long moment before he turned to address Bly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marshal. I’ve sustained no injury.”

Bly shook his head. “No, but your concentration isn’t here.”

“I know how to compartmentalize.”

Despite the serious nature of their conversation, Ahsoka couldn’t help the snort. The Commander looked at her, and she could picture an affronted look on his face that almost made her giggle more. Instead, she offered a smile. “You sound just like he did.” She did not need to explain. He knew who she spoke of. The grief and regret spilling out of his broken shields proved that. The Commander turned away, staring at the damaged wall instead of any of the living souls in the cockpit.

Ahsoka swallowed, reaching out to lay a hand against the upper part of his arm. He stiffened under her touch, but made no move to pull away. “Look, we’ll have time to discuss everything later. But Bly’s right.”

She got the sense he was about to interrupt her, so she pushed forward. “Commander, you’re the only person in the world I trust to protect Rex as well as I would. So how about you and the Corporal carry him, and me and the Marshal can keep watch?”

“No offense, Commander,” Echo drawled, “but if you’re going to keep using the Captain’s blasters, maybe we should switch places.”

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him, and feeling for all the world like she was fifteen again. “Why, Corporal, I have no idea what you mean.”

Echo laughed. It was the best sound she had ever heard.

Ahsoka grinned in response. “No, don’t worry. I have a few other tricks up my sleeves.”

“At least you’re wearing sleeves now,” he shot back. She shook her head with a chuckle. She’d not felt this happy, this light, in years.

“It’s a good plan, Commander,” Bly said. He leaned down, grabbing the Commander’s blaster before jerking his head toward the door. “Now, let’s get Rex on his feet and out of here before we find ourselves in the middle of a firefight.”

The Commander’s helmet moved in a slow arc, starting with Bly, and ending at Rex. Finally, he nodded slowly. “All right. Corporal, help me out.”

Echo shoved his blaster into its holster before crouching on Rex’s other side. With Ahsoka using the Force to make their job easier, both men got one of Rex’s arms around their shoulders. The Commander held him tightly against his side, right arm tucked around Rex’s waist and less hand holding onto Rex’s arm. Echo was in a similar position on the opposite side, albeit less secure as his scomp link didn’t provide much support.

Ahsoka met Bly’s gaze. “Front or back?” she asked.

“Front,” he answered immediately. “If we’re going to run into anyone, they’ll be coming up behind us. You’ll be more of a help if you’re able to shield us from behind.”

She nodded once. Bly copied the gesture. Then he led the way out of the cockpit, both his and the Commander’s blasters held at the ready. Somewhat awkwardly, Echo and the Commander managed to maneuver Rex out of the doorway, and Ahsoka began to follow them. She paused, turning to look around the broken ship. They were forgetting something. But what?

A small exclamation left her lips as she spotted Rex’s discarded helmet in the corner. She ducked to grab it, the old plastoid dusty and weathered beneath her fingertips. Ahsoka stared down into the face of the helmet for a moment longer, seeing in it the faces of all of the men she had loved, the brothers who had died because she had not been enough to save them.

Jesse.

Kix.

Fives.

Echo.

Hardcase.

Tup.

Vaughn.

Appo.

Denal.

Coric.

Dogma.

There were so many more. So many she had failed. So many she would never see again. Ahsoka brought Rex’s helmet up to rest against her forehead, eyes falling shut as she remembered. For the first time in many years, her eyes burned as tears threatened to fall.

She remained that way for another long moment. Then she heard Echo quietly calling her name. She returned to the present, but the weight of those she had lost continued to press down against her chest.I’ll have time later for grief, she reminded herself. Ahsoka squared her shoulders, clipping Rex’s helmet to the side of her belt. For now, I must push forward. Besides, she smiled softly to herself, leaving the cockpit with assured steps, how can I grieve when I’ve just gotten back my friends?

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

Envy Note

(Riza Hawkeye and what appears to be "Roy Mustang" encounter each other in Father's stronghold, Riza with her gun out and Roy poised to use his trademark flame alchemy.)

(Death Note music begins playing.)

Riza's internal monologue, languidly like L: What? Is this the Colonel, or Envy? I know the Colonel doesn't want me here. If this is the real Colonel Mustang, he's going to be on his guard; he'll be trying to figure out if I'm Envy. But if this is Envy, he'll try to lull me into a false sense of security, so that he can play his mind games.

Envy's internal monologue: And here we go! All I need to do is keep it cool; that way, I can take her and the Colonel out, just like Maes Hughes!

"Roy", aloud, relaxing: I ordered you not to come here, Lieutenant.

Riza's internal monologue: Hmm. Why would the Colonel lower his guard? He'd have to know that there was a possibility that the one in front of him was Envy.

(splitscreen-view imagination: one half shows a monochrome-blue Roy facing off against a monochrome-red Riza with Envy's silhouette behind her in the same pose as her; the other half shows a monochrome-red Roy with Envy's silhouette behind him in the same pose as him, facing off against a monochrome-blue Riza.)

Riza's internal monologue: In the world where the one I'm confronting is the real Colonel Mustang, his actions don't make sense -- unless he's completely certain that I'm Envy, and he's only pretending to lower his guard. But I know the Colonel, and he knows me; I like to think that I would be able to tell the difference, even if Envy can't. Whereas, in the world where the one I'm confronting is Envy in disguise ... all he can do is try to predict the Colonel's normal behavior.

(Closeup of monochrome-blue Riza, with glowing blue eyes)

Riza's internal monologue: The real Colonel would test me. And so, I will test Envy: I'll say something which the real Roy would know is obviously false. Hm ... Colonel Mustang knows that I've demonstrated the ability to sit still in one place doing nothing, for an entire night, if I think it's what my commanding officer needs. And so the lie I will tell him is ...

(Back to the real world)

Riza, aloud: Forgive me, sir. I couldn't just stand around doing nothing.

(Closeup of "Roy" nodding impassively. A ghostly smirking Envy is shown behind him.)

Envy's internal monologue: So, the Colonel's lieutenant is just a flake like all the rest. Typical human!

(Imagination: monochome-red Envy and Roy with identical glowing red eyes and wolf-like grins, looming over a monochrome blue Riza.)

Envy's internal monologue: All I need to do now is lead her astray, like a wolf in the fold! This'll be easier than I --

(Imagination: monochrome-blue Riza with glowing blue eyes looking impassive as she looms over a monochrome-red Envy. More intense Death Note music begins playing.)

Riza's internal monologue: Now that is not the way Colonel Roy Mustang would react to Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye disobeying orders. Either this is the Colonel, completely certain that I am Envy, and preparing a trap to confirm it in a way that the real me would recognize -- or this is Envy, completely failing to predict that the Colonel would test whether I am Envy.

(monochrome-blue Riza, standing between a monochrome-red Roy and a monochrome-red Envy.)

Riza's internal monologue: I know what to ask him now. This question will make the real Colonel suspicious about my identity, even if nothing else does. If he responds by attempting to lay a trap for Envy, then he is the Colonel. If he brushes it off and tries to keep me close to him, he is Envy. And so, Envy, I will now lay the real trap for you!

(Real world; the music comes to a dramatic end.)

Riza, aloud: Where's Envy?

(Imagination: glowing red Envy, grinning widely.)

Envy's internal monologue: Gotcha! She thinks I'm the real Colonel Mustang, and her guard is down! From now, I can do whatever I want to her -- and if I find the Colonel, I can do whatever I want to him, with Hawkeye as the bait!

(Real world)

"Roy", shrugging: I lost him. This place is like a damn maze!

"Roy", turning to leave: Stay close to me, Lieutenant. Follow me!

(Closeup of blue monochrome Riza with a "keikaku doori" smirk, as dramatic Death Note music plays.)

Riza's internal monologue: I've won. Nice try, Envy, but the Colonel doesn't want me here, at any cost. It's the entire reason he ordered me not to come here in the first place! Why would he change his mind about ordering me away just because I disobeyed him? Just as planned.

Riza's internal monologue as she points her gun at him: I have you cornered -- and now I'll take you out, before the Colonel gets here!

Envy's internal monologue: Wait wtf.

"Roy", putting his hands up: ... What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant? Do you know who you're aiming at?

(Imagination: monochrome-blue Riza with glowing eyes, pointing her gun at a monochrome-red Envy in the same posture as "Roy")

Riza's internal monologue: Hah. Once again, Envy, you've failed to take into account what the actual Colonel would do if he was in your position. I see it now. The possibility that the one pointing the gun at you could be "Envy, disguised as Riza" doesn't even occur to you, because you are Envy -- and so, it doesn't occur to you that Colonel Mustang would wonder about it! Now, to make you unmask, by turning your own mind games against you! Checkmate.

Riza, aloud: Excuse me? You must be joking. When we're alone, the Colonel always calls me "Riza."

(Closeup of "Roy" surprised.)

Envy's internal monologue: What!? Shit, I didn't consider that possibility -- I've been talking to her the wrong way the whole time, and she picked up on it!?

Envy, dropping his "Roy" disguise: Damn it! So you two are that close, huh!?

Riza: I lied. (perfectly-cut gunshot)

[marshmellowrio]

Semblance of Control | Chapter 3

Word count: 1.5K

Semblance of control Masterlist

After the cadets receive their standard uniforms, they’re shown to the dormitory’s and left to their own devices. Colette makes sure to grab one of the beds near the wall, with 155 other cadets on the same floor, it will give her a sense of security, maybe a false one. No, she wouldn’t put it past any of the other cadets to murder her in her sleep, but this way she would have one less side to protect in case of an attack.

She sees Violet and Rhiannon coming in to claim the beds on her right, right next to each other. She quickly puts all of her stuff away and walks up to the two of them, still talking quietly while dumping their bags.

“Violet and Rhiannon, right?” Colette hoped she had paid enough attention to Nyra when she called out Rhiannon’s name and that she wasn’t saying the wrong name to the dark woman.

Rhiannon looks her up and down. “Who’s asking?”

“Someone who wants an ally or two, and you guys are in my squad, so…” Colette trails off, not really having any other reasoning. The two woman across from her look at each other with distrust written on their faces. “My name is Colette, Colette Wilder.” She tries to meet them halfway. “And I want to help you,” she nods at Violet, “learn to protect yourself.”

“What makes you think I can’t protect myself?” Violet retorts. Fair question.

“You probably have a trick or two up your sleeve, you’re a Sorrengail after all, but I’m certain it can’t hurt to learn a few more. Especially if you have to go up against someone like, let’s say… our wingleader?” Colette answers.

Violet’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, but Colette’s already talking again. “Oh come on, the Marked Ones already have it out for you and even a fool knows that a Sorrengail and a Riorson is a bad combination.” She makes sure to keep her voice slightly hushed as she says this, keeping half an eye on the people around them, making sure no one’s listening in on their conversation.

Violet ponders for a moment while Rhiannon narrows her eyes at Colette. “What’s in it for you?”

Colette breathes out a little laugh, “ You’re smart.” She purses her lips and nods. “As I said, I need allies in this death trap.” She shrugs and continues, “ I also don’t like people holding children accountable for the actions of their parents.”

Rhiannon gives her a small nod, “Doesn’t mean I trust you, though.”

Colette looks down at her feet with a small smile playing on her lips, “Good,” she catches Rhiannon’s eyes with her own, “I wouldn’t trust me either.” She sees Violet frown in the corner of her eye and turns to her. “I wouldn’t-,” Colette stops for half a second, “I don’t trust anyone here, you shouldn’t either. Keep her close.” She nods to Rhiannon while speaking to Violet. She walks off to get ready for bed, leaving the other two to ponder over her proposal to be an ally.

★・・・・・・★

After Captain Fitzgibbons, another name Colette learned yesterday, reads through all of the names on the death roll, Squad leader Aetos takes over, “Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you’re not going to get another chance before lunch.”

Colette is positioned in the back row again, she sees the two women she approached yesterday whispering to each other but keeps her attention on her Squad leader.

“Second- and third-years, I’m assuming you know where to go,” he continues. He receives some non-committal noises of agreement from the front rows. “First-years, at least one of you should have memorized your academic schedule when it was handed out yesterday.” It’s a statement, one Colette can agree with, it’s the first thing she did when she woke up this morning. “Stick together. I expect you all to be alive when we meet this afternoon in the sparring gym.”

“And if we’re not?” Colette snaps her head to the first-year next to her and rolls her eyes at the question, before focusing on Aetos again.

“Then I won’t have to be concerned with learning your name, since it will be read off tomorrow morning,” their Squad leader answers with a shrug. “Sawyer?” He looks at a first-year next to Violet.

“I’ll get them there.” He’s tall, Colette notes, as he nods tightly at Aetos.

Dain orders us to get a move on and the whole squad breaks up, similar to the other ones around them.

“We have about twenty minutes to get to class,” Sawyer shouts at the nine first-years left before him. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don’t be late.” He doesn’t wait for a reply and heads toward the dormitory.

Colette hears Rhiannon say, “That has to be hard.” She catches up to her and Violet, following the crowd toward the dorms. “Being set back and having to do this all over again.” Colette receives a smile from the two as she reaches them, seems like they’re warming up to her already.

“Better than being dead,” the smart-ass from next to her says as he passes the three of them.

“That’s true,” Violet replies as they head into the bottleneck in front of the door. Colette makes sure to stay on the outsides of it.

“I overheard a third-year say when a first-year survives Treshing unbonded, the quadrant lets them repeat the year and try again if they want,” Rhiannon adds. Colette cringes at the thought of completing her first year twice.

A bird whistle sounds from the left and Violet stalls, fixing her eyes on the door to the rotunda as it sounds again. Colette and Rhiannon follow her line of sight as she says, “I’ll be-”.

“We’ll grab your stuff and meet you there. It’s under your bunk, right?” Rhiannon asks before she can finish.

“You don’t mind?”

“Your bunk is next to ours, Violet. It’s not a hassle. Go!” She bumps her shoulder with Violet’s.

Violet is off with a thank you as Rhiannon turns to Colette and they share a conspiratorial smile.

“So, I’m assuming Violet knows our Squad leader?”

“You would be correct.” Rhiannon answers with a little laugh.

The two women make their way to their bunks along with the rest of the first-years on their floor. Rhiannon looks back and forth from Colette and the path in front of her. “So, why didn’t you cut your hair.” She tries to start a conversation to make it less uncomfortable.

Colette brings a hand up to her tight, low bun, brushing away the stray hairs that aren’t there. “It’s not that long, but I actually wasn’t aware of the fact that women cut their hair to join the rider’s quadrant.” She smiles awkwardly as they reach the bunks. “I mean, I’ve never had any problems with it while sparring so why would I?”

Rhiannon nods in understanding, grabbing her stuff and Violet’s. “I’ve always had mine this short or even shorter so I wouldn’t know what’s it’s like fighting with longer hair.”

“Maybe I’ll think about cutting it if it causes me to lose my matches, otherwise it’s not happening.” Colette laughs softly and Rhiannon joins in as they head back towards the academic wing.

The two of them keep chatting on their way to the doors to the rotunda and start to warm up to each other in the meantime. They step inside the rotunda and Colette’s breath catches. “Wow.”

Rhiannon stops a few steps ahead, feeling Colette lagging behind. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She looks at Rhiannon, “You go ahead, I want to take this all in for a second.” Rhiannon nods slowly and continues on towards the academic wing.

Colette turns back to the six marble statues of the dragons, not having passed through the main rotunda yet. Her breath got taken away by the dragons instantly, she marvelled at the sight of them. Wandering closer to the black statue, she cranes her neck to look at it more properly.

The light filtering through from the glass dome, glitters on the black marble.

“I already knew you’re parents are tight,” Colette hears a voice call out from up above. She shifts her gaze a bit to find Riorson standing on the balcony, staring down. “But do you two have to be so fucking obvious?”

Colette frowns at his words and follows his line of sight, down to the middle of the rotunda where Violet stands with Squad leader Aetos at her back.

“I expected you to do a better job of hiding where your affections lie, Aetos.” Riorson starts walking down the steps. As he does, Colette starts walking to the space between them. His eyes brighten when they find hers, watching him closely. Monitoring him as he moves closer to Violet.

His focus shifts to Violet again as she bolts for the doors to the academic wing. Colette startles at the sudden movement, she casts one more glance in her wingleader’s direction before following after her… ally?

A/N: Let me know what you think of this chapter in the comments! There is a taglist for those interested in joining, leave a comment below and I'll add you for the next chapter.

Chapter 4 click here.

Taglist: @siobhanbooks @bada-lee-ily

[ringleaderising]

"I understand your agitation, I am not without my own anger, my own pain. But I ask you now to stop hurting the others you've forced from their rest- they are innocent- they've earned their peace." "False. Concept: Innocence not detected. Query: All things created inherently filthy. Proof Returned: The INTRUDER." "You are not within everything, INTRUDER." "Someday. We will be."

I realized I really need to be talking about Hope Adder Enterprises, The Wicked Dig, and really... anything that's not just Pig and Sow after months waving them around like an advertisement sign for my clan lore, so I'll talk a little bit about a couple other major players, these two are V.A.N. and The INTRUDER. My heaviest deviance from site lore is connected to the works of Hope Adder, and these two- notably, the time-lock that exists around the facilities of Hope Adder and the Analog Virus that INTRUDER himself spreads, things that are still magical in nature to ME so I can use them for my cyber/dieselpunk lore fantasies okay.

VAN is the cause of the time lock, and at one point, was a completely normal tundra scientist living in Lightning with her research partner and husband, but as much as necessity breeds innovation among the researchers of any flight, desperation breeds mistakes- and desperation in VAN's husband led him to strip VAN of her recognized form and of her personhood entirely, trapping her within H.A.E.'s walls as something of a Biomechanical AI core, every spike or spine actually a node to attach wires and cables, her mind fragmented into pieces more useful for the application of research. He was successful, for a time, Stolen research, valor, and a 'missing' wife right beneath the nose of his fellow scientists- but in her desperation to escape, to free herself from the newfound binds of a world that made no sense and a forced loyalty to the very people who would throw her aside the moment someone easier to work with appeared, she clawed at thin spaces in reality, at gaps she didn't quite understand but knew were doors she might be able to squeeze through- surely her spirit was smaller than the body she'd been trapped within.

Instead, she threw open the first tear, instead, she unleashed INTRUDER. Born of trash code and a desperation to escape, INTRUDER is actually without a proper form of its own, wearing the visage of the first dragon it saw- of the first dragon it mangled and consumed. A technological parasitoid, a virus with a mind of its own, INTRUDER quickly infected or outright killed most of the people within Hope Adder when it was released, and in her horror, VAN deployed a failsafe- trapping those in the facility in a time-bubble the moments after INTRUDER's escape- stilling the infection in those still alive within, and trapping the survivors in the moments before the cataclysm.

Her efforts to contain INTRUDER would be in vain, however. Slipping out seconds before the temporal lock could settle into place, VAN had successfully built the perfect prison for the things she let go- but couldn't restrain the only one that mattered.

Now, Hope Adder Enterprises operates as a secure base used to contain, capture, and study entities both infected with INTRUDER's Analog Virus and those of the mysterious "Host"- theorized to be one in the same.

Now, VAN has to work with her captor once more- she hopes that perhaps he might be speaking the truth for the first time ever, when he says his intention is to cure- but she's seen the way he craves power.