#the lie is the headless corpse

[born-to-riot]

Cassian: Azriel, Two truths and a lie, who would you fuck if you had the chance?

Azriel: alright bet.

Rhys: Give us three names and we’ll guess which one is the lie.

Azriel: option one, Hybern’s headless corpse

Cassian: woah, woah, woah bro WHAT—

Azriel: option two, bryaxis

Rhys: Azriel what?

Cassian: HOW DARE YOU?

Azriel: and finally option three, Eris Vanserra.

Cassian: …

Rhys: …

Azriel: tell me brothers, which one is the lie?

Cassian: …

Rhys: …

Cassian: I…

Rhys: I think it’s better off if we don’t know.

Azriel: suit yourselves 🤷‍♀️

[queer-n-here]

Fucking Sangwoo dumb because why not.

Also, I got the idea to write this fic from this piece by @karmasadistic69 Lemme know if y'all want a part 2.

Also, fair warning, this one is not gonna be romantic. At all.

Contents: Reader kidnapping and fucking Sangwoo.

Warnings: Rape, kidnapping, mature themes, mentions of murder, mentions of suicide. Like I've said before, this is gonna be darker than what I usually write, you have been warned.

Oh Sangwoo.

The one behind all those serial murders.

The public didn't know yet; the cops were running around like headless chickens trying to find him.

But you knew.

You knew everything. About his mother, about his fist murder, about every single one that had followed ever since. Even about Yoon Bum, you knew.

And you hated him for it.

Yet here he was, tied to a metal bed frame and slowly regaining his consciousness as you watched his profile.

Sangwoo lifted his head slowly, eyes blinking open as his brows furrowed in confusion. The moment he realised he wasn't anywhere he knew, his eyes widened, and he whipped his head around, trying to figure out just where he was. And that's when his eyes fell on you.

You hadn't bothered to cover your face. For one, you knew Sangwoo would never manage to get past the measures you'd taken to keep him locked in your basement. For two, you wanted him to know who was going to ruin him.

"[Name]," Sangwoo said, and you saw fear in his eyes at being at the other side of this situation. He was supposed to be the one sitting in that chair, smirking; not the other way around. "What the fuck?"

You chuckled. "Surprised, are we?"

You got up from the chair, walked over closer to him and sat down at the edge of the bed. Sangwoo tried to scuttle away, to shift back, but the chains you had put around his legs and wrists would only let him get so far.

"Let's see..." You tilted your head at him. "How does it feel to be at the receiving end of this situation? Does it excite you? Does it help you understand your victims better? Or..."

You looked down at his sweaty hands, and then at his pale face. "Does it scare you?"

Sangwoo grit his teeth. He knew what you were thinking. That's what he thought every time he dealt with a victim.

Ah, he's trying to struggle away. How fun.

But he wasn't gonna let you have that satisfaction.

"How did I get here?" Sangwoo's voice was barely stable.

"Hmm," You debated internally whether or not to be like those typical movie villains that explain their plans before failing horribly to kill the hero. And then you realised, no one's a hero here. You were both deranged.

And so you said, "D'you remember me handing you that bottle of water after your match?"

You watched as Sangwoo remembered, and his eyes grew dark with hatred, but his expression remained casual. "So that's how I blacked out... Not bad."

You chuckled at his attempt to look aloof. "Oh, please, I learned from the best."

The implication of your words hit Sangwoo in the face. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

You got up from the bed, walking over to the only barred window in the room. "It's funny, really, how the cops could never figure out it was you when you left behind all the evidence you did."

You didn't look back at him, but even in the silence you could hear the cogs of his brain turning. Should he admit to it? Or should he act like he didn't know what you were talking about?

Fuck it, if you had blackmail material on him, he had some on you, too.

"So you knew." Was the only thing he said.

"Of course I did." You turned around now, slightly excited to see his reaction. "I know everything, Sangwoo. From the body in your walls to the boy locked in your basement. Or should I say... Corpse?"

Sangwoo's face paled further, and finally, finally, a fraction of the fear he felt showed on his face.

Silence.

Then, "You killed Yoon Bum."

You laughed. "Oh, did you get attached to him?"

Sangwoo shook his head, a lie. He was attached to that boy. That's why he made him murder that bitch, so Yoon Bum could never leave him without the fear of cops. Yoon Bum was the only one he had.

He didn't love Bum, fuck no. He needed him to stay alive.

But now, he was gone, and standing in front of Sangwoo was you instead, just as insane as him, if not more.

He didn't say anything after that, and you left him to his thoughts.

The next day, you put your hands on him for the first time.

You'd thought about it many times, fuck, dreamt about it, even. And now he was here, in your hands and all yours to ruin.

When you first stripped him of his clothes, he tried to struggle. It was amusing how scared he was to have the sort of things done to him that he'd been doing to people for years now. Maybe it was because he could tell what thoughts were running through your brain, having had them himself.

You freed Sangwoo's legs, keeping his hands bound still. The next few hours were hell for Sangwoo, and heaven for you.

He gave up on struggling half-way through, using his bound wrists to hide his face instead, as if he could somehow forget you existed if he couldn't see you. His chest was heaving with each breath. As you fucked into him nice and fast, he bit down on his lips, hard, not willing to allow a single sound escape his lips to give you satisfaction.

The humiliation, the shame, the hatred he felt in those hours was so, so much more intense than anything else Sangwoo had ever experienced in his life. He wanted to kill himself, wanted to cut off each inch of his skin that you had touched. Anything, anything, if only it meant this would stop, if it meant you would stop. If it meant that he would wake up in his house again, with Bum locked up in his basement and the freedom to move his arms.

But you wouldn't let him struggle away, wouldn't even let him look away. You slapped his hands away when he tried to cover his face, and roughly grabbed his jaw to make him look at you.

"The second you break eye contact, Sangwoo," You muttered, your hips bludgeoning into his. "I won't hesitate to use these chains to choke you out of your miserable life, do you understand?"

And as much as Sangwoo wanted to die already, as much as he wanted this to end, he gulped and obeyed, lips and lashes trembling with fear.

There was no doubt that you'd do it. No doubt that you'd kill him if you got sick of him.

And so he lay there, letting you fuck him again and again and again.

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s4 episode 12 "leonard betts" thoughts

didn’t watch an episode last night because i was sad. and by consulting the people, i knew that this episode would ALSO be sad. but now in my infinite wisdom, i realize: how better to distract yourself from your own sorrow than to watch some fictional characters writhe in their own grief? which brings us here.

“a headless corpse walks out of a hospital morgue” well that actually just sounds silly. i know it’s not gonna end up being silly, and i’m sure my heart will be on the floor, but you have to admit, it sounds silly.

author’s note: the episode about the dude with no head is now the second episode EVER to make me cry. and editing these notes is gonna SUCK SO BAD😭😭😭I WAS WRONG ABOUT DROWNING MY SORROWS IN FICTIONAL WOES. I HAVE NO INFINITE WISDOM. ONLY TEARS.

let us begin below. join me. hold me. comfort me.

ambulance time :3 we see a guy named leonard, who i presume will be the star of the episode given its title. he tells michele driving the vehicle that this guy having a heart attack is “up to his ass in alligators”, and idk what that means, but it doesn’t sound good

oh a needle. mmmm no no. NO. no. <- girl who cannot look at the screen

NO! no. crash. oh god, that’s my worst fear. EMS lady michele who made the mistake of looking behind her while driving is now covered in blood. i assume that we will see leonard's head soon.

(little did i know!!! little did i know. i have a fear even deeper than causing a car accident that decapitates someone)

ah, yes. the head is not attached to anything. michele, covered in blood, is leaving after leonard is dropped off in the morgue.

the guy in the morgue is trying to stream casual by chappell roan (obviously) but he hears some thumping in the distance. leonard has escaped! without his head!

oh god, he killed morgue guy. you see, i thought we were going to get an episode where the mystery was how the headless man got around and lived his daily life, not that the headless guy was also going to be a murderer. i thought we were gonna get scenes of his headless body using sign language to communicate and question how he’s gonna eat in a semi-comical fashion. but now. now he’s evil. sigh.

and leonard is naked. do they put you in the morgue naked??? i always assumed there’d be a little bit of dignity…

SCULLY TIME!!! i can feel all pain in my body evaporating. she is looking in the little morgue case he escaped from. there are a lot of bloody footprints. and mulder is here, too!

it’s funny how i sit down to watch the scully and mulder show and then when i see them on screen i think “oh boy, it’s scully and mulder time :D”

good news! the morgue guy who was certainly streaming chappell is NOT actually dead. he was just knocked out. and had all his clothes taken, which is unfortunate.

scully is gagged at the idea mulder thinks a headless body escaped from the morgue, and me too girl, but i feel you should be used to it by now. we probably both should be, actually. 

she thinks it’s some sort of coverup for body snatching! oh, compelling. even mulder seems to nod along. god, wouldn’t it be funny if they just had a normal case once? please. i beg.

they’re looking at security camera footage from the night it all went down, and see the clothes that were stolen from morgue guy being worn by someone. scully thinks maybe the thief got scared and dipped, which led to this wonderful exchange: “where could he hide an adult body where it wouldn’t be found?” “i’ll show you” <- YEAHHHH I LOVE WHEN SHE SAYS WEIRD AND UNSETTLING STUFF

time to check the medical waste. are you telling me surgical byproduct gets turned into roads??? i don’t think i can handle that information, so i’m going to simply not fact check it. but she would never lie to me.

mulder looks freaked tf out as he hands the flashlight to her to inspect the waste LMAOOO

“mulder i think i’m gonna need your help, your arms are longer” (cut to visible distress on his face) LMAOOOOO

he’s groaning as they rummage through bags of human stuff, but they find leonard’s head!! noticeably, NOT the rest of him

they are going to split up, and mulder will go to leonard’s house while scully looks at his head. and she makes a pointed correction that he is no longer living. damn. 

his head weighs 10.9 pounds! the head looks a little… wow, i was gonna say it looked fuzzy, but now we get a closeup and it’s actually very convincing. no rigor mortis or clouded eyes, which is inconsistent with the time of death. and she’s gonna go to brain town when he opens his eyes!!

well, bodies do that sometimes. and he’s opening his mouth. and closing it. so uh. what’s that all about?

something or someone is running as mulder enters leonard’s house. he finds a bathtub full of blood, which is not promising. and blood out the window. 

bro stuck his fingers in the blood and sniffed it….. OH! it’s not blood. it’s iodine. okay. that’s less freaky. 

scully says it seems the head has been effected by radiation that is preventing any sort of scanning, and also that she hasn’t cut into the head yet, even though she knows it’s just extra energy stored in the cells that made him blink, but still! aww mulder be NICE TO HER!

“maybe he was home” "leonard betts." “yeah” “without his head.” “yeah :)” LMAO

OMG his headless ass was IN the iodine!!!

WAIT.... HE HAS A NEW HEAD??????

wait… he was a really good EMT… and his head somehow grew back… is he one of those aliens that can heal people???

(author's note: it was a really good guess on my part, but i think he was some sort of new freak not previously established in canon)

he could diagnose illness very well… but he kept his distance from his coworkers. hmmmm. and he never got sick. hmmmm. or injured. HMMMM. michele is suspicious.

they’re gonna mummify his head. sort of. and mulder is smiling at scully over his own stupid joke, and i want to punch his stupid face (affectionate).

man. i do not care for this slicing of heads process. 

oh no!! leonard was like, entirely made of cancer. was he absorbing the cancer of his patients… is that a thing you can do….?

he should have died a looooong time ago. or maybe the process of slicing distorted the findings?

michele is pulling into the hospital as she deals with another case, but she hears someone say “up to your ass in alligators” over the radio… and she recognizes leonard’s voice! he’s making another correct ID on what is wrong with a patient!!!!!!!

the agents are off to one of the professors at a maryland university that mulder keeps on call at all times, who is going to look at the head slice. oh…. this guy does aura photography. okay, so not super promising.

she’s like yeah yeah yeah i know about eastern medicine but WHAT does it have to do with this. i respect her knowledge and her focus.

it looks like the aura photography captured some shoulders? that i guess mulder thinks proves leonard is still alive somehow?

“are we happy with the results?” <- something about the way he said this made them sound so married. i'd be happy to live in that brief moment forever.

scully looks pissed off into another dimension at this whole process LMAO

mulder wants to know if there is a good kind of cancer that is actually regeneration…. and the iodine helps regeneration! which has been used in labs for creatures whose limbs regrow, i guess 

“there isn’t a creature on earth that can regrow its head” “worms. you cut a worm in half, you get two” <- and that’s why you’re the FBI’s most unwanted, because you advocate for worm murder 😭😭

“mulder, they’re worms” <- LMAOOOOOOOOO STOP i saw that line out of context once 

scully gets a phone call! and it turns out leonard had an alter ego named albert- whose fingerprints match his? but albert has a living relative. visit time?

yes, it is visit time. oh! the picture his mom has on the table is the same as the picture we saw earlier of leonard when he was featured in the newspaper!

they try to tell his mom that “her son” died recently, but she says he died 6 years ago!! well, that is confusing.

michele is also on the case, looking for whoever it was who she heard on the radio earlier using that distinct phrase and accurately diagnosing people. the others pointing him out to her refer to him as “the new guy”.

and it is leonard! michele is chasing him…. he hugs her and reassures her that it’s okay. at first it's touching, and i realize too late that he is going to kill her, which he does while apologizing. then he lays her down???? but he gets caught!!

he is running and running…. but he gets tackled by the cops and handcuffed. with a very conspicuous head bruise.

OH MY GOD he PULLED HIS THUMB OUT OF THE HANDCUFF BLEUGHHHHHHHHH all the cops return to is some blood and a finger 😭😭😭

no no bad…. body horror… bad…. not for junis, who are weak and frail… 

michele was given a lethal dose of something that occurs naturally, so it usually misses detection. and leonard was ID’d as the attacker!!! oh i just know everyone at that hospital is SO confused

mulder and scully are fighting over evolutionary theories…. while holding umbrellas in the snow… sigh. so beautiful.

GAG! the trunk of leonard's car is filled with cancerous tumors. that scully can name as she sees them. a massive flex of her knowledge.

OH. maybe he eats cancer. well. this is a bold theory, mulder, and what a lovely time for you to propose it, as i am just thinking of how lovely they look in the snow, and how they should go ice skating and other such winter activities. sure. the guy eats tumors.

and the car leonard was driving traces back to the mom!!! so they go to her place with a warrant. scully confronts her, saying they know she’s lying about her son being dead, and he killed someone, so lying to protect him isn’t gonna get her anywhere except JAIL.

mulder finds iodine while she recounts a tale of her son being beaten up as a kid. and she says god means for leonard to stay even if people don’t understand. crazy thing to say about a guy who just killed someone. 

leonard is at a bar watching someone smoke and looking at him hungrily. while his baby thumb pulsates and regrows. NASTY! nasty. 

he’s getting up after the cigarette dude and following him outside like he’s hunting some prey. he says that “you’ve got something i need” and whips out a tiny knife. uh oh.

back at mom’s house, they find a storage locker receipt. off to track it down.

oh. leonard was straight up eating that dude inside the storage locker. see, i don’t care for that. and also he is screaming while this happens and also his body is pulsating and oh my god. OH MY GOD HE JUST GREW A NEW HEAD???? out of his mouth. whyyyyyy

at the storage unit, the agents find blood flowing from beneath the door, and then the dead cigarette guy. but leonard comes out in a car at them!

i like how mulder grabbed scully to keep her safe... it was very nice. 

leonard is speeding off. and they shoot at him, which causes the car to go up in flames. damn. good shots, those two.

so the cigarette guy had his lung removed, but now leonard seems to be burnt to a crisp. BUT! when they dig up the guy under the pseudonym who had allegedly died 6 years ago, he looks also very dead!!

so he just keeps dying and coming back? i ask myself.

no! mulder thinks that the car crashes- both times- were decoys, and that “leonard” is still at large. scully does not seem pleased by this. 

and back at his mom’s house, she’s washing him in iodine, saying they “found your friend”. she says the FBI aren’t going to leave him alone…. you know what you have to do…. WHAT TF DOES THAT MEAN???

the agents are watching her house. but then an ambulance rolls up, saying that an old woman has had massive blood loss. did he eat his mom?? how would anyone know?? is this a trap???

scully finds his mom, who has a surgical cut…. and they’re taking her to the hospital… scully is helping her out…. she is so kind

but as they take leonard's mom out, scully notices IODINE ON HER HEAD! is he waiting on top of the ambulance? she tells mulder to get over here RIGHT NOW. 

and leonard grabs her!!!! and says she has something he needs. NO!!!!! no that means…… no. 

she’s beating the hell out of him though which is a major slay. she defibrillates him. queen.

it seems he really died. for now.

mulder’s telling her she should be proud, but she just wants to go home. that's what she says: "i want to go home". oh my goooooooood. oh my gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood.

wait it’s still going. she’s coughing. NO, SHE’S COUGHING BLOOD?????!

no it’s her nose. oh my god. the end.

FUCK YOU ALL I HATE EVERYTHING (punches wall) (punches table) (punches everything in an arm’s reach) (keeps punching until i collapse into a ball of sobs)

well. for most of this, distracting myself with fictional character’s problems worked. but now i’m just sad about my own life AND scully’s.

okay. i won’t lie. you want me to tell the truth? fine. i’ll tell you. i’d never lie to you...

i knew about the scully cancer arc. 

there. i said it. i know, i know, i too wanted everything to come as a surprise. but in all honesty, i’m glad i knew about it, because if i didn’t i’d probs be straight up ugly crying right now. 

yes, i saw it in a gif set a while ago- not this part, but from a later episode- and i find myself still deeply saddened despite knowing it was going to happen. i think it’s just so awful that cancer is a thing that happens, and even knowing that scully isn’t real doesn’t it make it less of a reality for other people, and that breaks my heart. of course i want my fave fictional girl to be okay- and this was foreshadowed after the abduction arc anyway- but cancer…. god, it’s just horrific. i think we all know someone who has it and have had to see what they endure. and it’s so genuinely and horrifically fucked up. luckily i can look at this leonard guy and be like damn, wouldn’t it be fucked up if a guy grew a new head? and i can rest knowing that it shall never happen to anybody alive, but this? like. you just don’t know. it could happen to anyone. 

and that really scares me, i think. more than anything else. so at least we learned about my deep set fear together? glad we had that bonding experience.

gooood. i’m gonna cry. okay yes, check it write it down- the tears are in my eyeballs. you can’t see it, but it is happening. yes, and now they are leaving my eyeballs and going down my cheeks. okay so. that’s fine i guess.

fuck me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this episode was fine, other than that, i guess? i mean i laughed a bit but then i laughn’t. the laughter was cancelled. his face when he was digging around in the body part jumble was really funny, i love when he is squeamish. and i liked him laughing at his own joke and how beautiful they looked in the snow. the idea of this as a monster was kinda interesting and very disturbing in practicality- body horror is always gonna get me- but leonard himself wasn't super compelling. you can't really be that good of a healthcare worker if you're in it just to eat people. his mom was more interesting to me, but also she was annoying because how tf are you gonna sit there and say your baby boy eats people because he is so special?

scully, why do they do this to you……….. i need to save you from chris carter myself……. 

s4 loyalists: you scare me, because how can you endure this willingly? bro, i love angst too... but this is just straight up masochism 😭

[voids-ideas]

So... how are you doing?

I'm... I'm all right, I'm just trying to get some rest, take it easy.

Really? Because I'm pretty sure I heard you talking about a screaming headless corpse right now.

MAG 145 Infectious doubts

Jon, if you're going to lie... at least make it a little believable, please

[chasing-bandages]

Chase wakes up to gentle rain showering his hands and hair.

Compared to the pounding storm he was subjected to earlier, it's quite the welcome change. He sits up groggily, reaching up to rub his eyes. His hands hit a familiar solid material, though.... as soon as he realizes what it is, he groans loudly.

Stupid fucking mask again, goddammit.... he thinks bitterly, the rainshower seeping through the mask's eye holes. It's not too much of an inconvenience, other than once again being quite a hassle to wash his face or eat again. But he was starting to enjoy the feeling of wind on his cheeks again.

Whatever, he thinks, enjoying the gentle rain. Chase looks around, seeing the dark cloud of rain, wind, and lightning in the distance. That must be where he died.... he, Dusk, Lennie, Steph, and Camila.

He wonders where they all spawned before remembering Dusk isn't from this world... she's probably not around anymore. Chase looks down bitterly, hugging his knees to his chest.

He's starting to really hate being alone like this.

That's something he never thought he'd think.... he likes being with his brothers or girlfriend, but aside from them, Chase prefers solitude and no one around.

None of them are here with him, though, and probably never will be. Chase is completely and utterly alone, with no hope of ever escaping or seeing any of his loved ones again.

Chase finds himself thinking of the others. He wouldn't ever admit to trusting any of them, but their company definitely makes him feel a little less alone. They're all just trying to survive, after all, just like him.

..... survive.....

Survival. Life. Death.

His mind drifts to Camila. To what she told him. It's faint and foggy in his memory from the alcohol, but the fragments loop in his mind.

He's still baffled by the logistics of it, how one's conscience actually gets inside the computer and how they stay alive even though they're dead in the real world.... but eventually, he pushes it aside. He's not smart enough to try and figure it out.

Chase still wonders what it feels like, though, to be Camila. He has so many questions, and also a rather unfortunate amount of sympathy for her situation.... how did she die? How old was she? What about her family?

Chase groans and stands up. He really, really, reallyreallyreallyreally hates her and hates that he's feeling any sympathy for her. She's a prick, a bitch, an asshole, a pain in the ass who's probably only keeping him alive as someone to bully. She's horrible, she's annoying, she's cruel, she's selfish, she's......

..... human. She's still human, and she's the only one who could even understand my situation.

Chase looks down at the wet, sandy ground, fingers picking at themselves. If it was anyone other than the bitch who betrayed him when he first arrived, maybe he'd be more willing to open up. But her? Why's it gotta be her of all people?

He walks in the direction of the storm, silently scolding himself each step of the way. Why the fuck am I doing this? I could just wait for a train. I could just lie down by the tracks and wait for the train to pass by. I could stay out in the rain, in the SAFE rain.

..... I'm such a fucking idiot for this. She better thank me for this.

The rain and wind grow more intense as Chase travels deeper into the storm. The mask definitely helps to keep the water out of his eyes, although it still all pools into the bottom of his mask, and he has to dump it out of his eyes quite often. And without the hangover, he's better able to keep his balance and avoid any flying debris.

All of a sudden, he trips and falls, almost slamming his head into a tree trunk. The vague shape he sees glancing back both chills his blood and eases his mind.

His own headless corpse.

Chase stands and steps over the body, noting that his head is completely out of view, wherever it is. But this is almost exactly what he was hoping to find. Now, if only he could find....

There she is.

Chase approaches Camila's corpse, dodging a few flying branches. He takes a few seconds to observe the damage.... parts of her face and body look bashed in and cut, but judging by the deep gash over her throat, the rest of it must be post-death damage.

Her body isn't what he wants though.

Chase grabs her shoulder, smiling as his hand wraps around the bag strap. He quickly pulls the bag off of Camila's body, probably dislocating her arms in the process but not caring as he slings it over his shoulder and books it back in the direction he came. It's definitely a heavy bag, about half his size, but he pushes through and uses the wind to his advantage.

Eventually, the rain starts to ease, and he can see more than a few feet in front of him. Chase's sprint slows to a walk until he's far enough that there's nothing other than the gentle drizzle that woke him up in the first place. He sits down on a flat rock, legs and back aching from the weight he carried. But he's safe now, and he has exactly what he was looking for.

"Alright.... what's in here...." Chase mumbles, opening up one of the compartments. There's all the butcher equipment and cutlery, even a spare cleaver. Chase's eye gleams at the sight of so many sharp weapons. He grabs a small paring knife and stuffs it in his hoodie pocket before searching the rest of the bag.

It's all typical cooking supplies and various foods, including chunks of meat from that rabbit man. Chase wonders how preservation works in the digital world as he seals it all up and continues to marvel at the utensils, dishes, and seasonings she has. He's watched his brothers cook in the kitchen a few times, but a couple of things look quite foreign to him. He doesn't think he ever could learn to cook with most of this.

Eventually, he also finds a large canteen and weighs it in his hands.

Empty... he thinks, hopping up and walking into the rain once again. Chase unscrews the cap and holds it up, waiting as the water fills the canteen. It doesn't take long, and after the container's full, he turns around and gets back to the rest of the equipment. Other than a few rags being soaked, everything seems undamaged.

Chase lays back on the rock, kicking his feet a little and humming. The storm continues to move on, away from him and passing over the town. Hours past, to which Chase spends nibbling on carrots and trying to dry his clothes off.

The more he thinks about it, the less the thought of Camila pisses him off. Her methods for killing people and tricking others into eating them is fucked up, but it's not like she can do much else. He's seen first hand that she can't exactly help herself, and a vegetarian diet wouldn't really be the best for a cannibalistic vampire. She's trying to survive.

And she's never getting out of this place either, no matter what. That's the most disturbing fact of her situation, and Chase has so many questions. How does aging work? What if the system shuts down? Can someone die of old age? Are they, in the grand scheme of things, immortal?

He bites his tongue, looking down at the ground. The way she treats him is..... familiar. She's a bitch who toys with him and doesn't care if he's a bitch back, she matches his energy but treats him like a kid.

.... she treats me like my brothers.

A familiar clunking sound jostles Chase out of his thoughts, prompting him to stand up. In the distance, he sees a train with a yellow mark chug along, heading straight towards him and the storm. Time to go.

He groans and lays face down, cringing at the realization. That's something he DEFINITELY doesn't want to accept because she's not them. She never will be them. No one will ever be them. No one will replace his family, and he'll be damned if anything makes him feel better about it.

He puts the bag on and rushes to the side of the tracks, internally cursing himself for not adjusting the straps first. Whatever, it doesn't matter. The train's getting closer.... and closer.... and closer.....

Chase leaps forward through the open doors.

And not a moment too soon, either. Just as he regains his balance, the train chugs straight into the storm. Rain, wind, and debris smatter through the open doors, immediately drenching Chase's clothes again.

He grumbles with a yawn, dragging the bag over behind several crates that block out the majority of the rain. He's far too exhausted for this, and eventually just lays down while hugging Camila's bag. For being full of cooking supplies, it's shockingly comfortable to hug.

Chase yawns again, shivering from the water soaking through his clothes. At least the rain crashing against the windows is soothing, a familiar sound that slowly lulls him to sleep. He squeezes the bag just a little, thinking one final thing before fully drifting off.

Guess I'm trying to find Camila instead of avoid her now.

[kingofdinosaurs]

3 6 8 9 12 14 24

feel free to answer however many of em you want for any media you're into (that I actually know)

sorry, unrelated, I just found out they let you DM people images now? What the fuck?

no yeah you can send people images now it rocks thank you for the bridge. going through all of them because im airport bored

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

ok well the worst one EVER was someone saying they thought potemkin should have died in xrd IN THE TAG which was. fucking rude and also totally stupid. honourable mention to that time so long ago i barely remember how it happened when i saw a pokespe fan assert that "wally could never have done what emerald did!" hey why do you think that. when wally was literally in the oras version of the battle frontier (I know oras was out because that's how i was a fan of wally. is it because he's disabled. i want you to fucking say it.

6. already answered!

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

hmm... idk if it's even a common thing anymore because i avoid it like the plague but if i ever have to see "the knight doesn't have a mind or will" arguments again I'll like find whoever started it and put them in a jigsaw trap fuck you fuck you fuck you did you even play the game??? the delicate flower quest alone should be enough to prove you wrong. if the knight can't have its own agenda why the fuck would it go out of its way to do this small unnecessary kindness? also the narrative itself doesn't make sense if you assume the pale king is right about the knight, both in terms of "what was the fucking point then?" and because of the fucking. REASON THE KNIGHT CAME BACK TO HALLOWNEST. BECAUSE THEY WANTED TO HELP THEIR SIBLING. idk if this one is even common anymore but it was frustratingly common back in the day

9. worst part of canon

for persona there's so many choices i feel paralysed, as with blazblue, so I'll go with a wild card: dead cells! anyway anytime when someone acts like the beheaded is just cut and dry easy peasy The King like it can not be that fucking simple that's fucking stupid. he's literally the ship of theseus but a slime piloting around a headless corpse. like at this point you're just giving annoying youtubers ways to be more annoying quit itttttt

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

SYSTEMMMM i love system so fucking much I'm crazy about her. nobody gives a fuck about her because she's a relatively easy boss in a fighting game many people do not like (a crossover, no less!). but she fucking rocks so hard!!! she's so funny in every scene she's in, i really appreciate that about her. she's kind of like queen from deltarune if that helps anyone. it's not even hard to go watch like cross tag story mode it is literally all on youtube everyone who hasn't go meet her! she deserves some attention!

14. that one thing you see in fics all the time

actually i can't lie i just like don't have it in me to trawl the fanfic mines anymore so idk what they're doing right now like it is No Longer my problem

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

oh god i have no clue. i don't get involved in arguments like this anymore for my health so i have no clue

[nightingale-prompts]

"T̴̢̢̧̧̧̡̧̛̛̪̱̯̘̥̩̗͚̝̙̹̭̖͓͔͕̮̜̭͔̰̭̼͈̥͇̘̼͇͎̤̗͕̮̙̩͚̜͎̳̩̥̟̼̘͖̭̯̖͚͓̳̰̳̣̤̦̲̭̭͑͆̓͆́̿̂͋̽́̿̊̐̈́́̋̐͆̔̂̽̓̉͌̓̈͛̅̾̄̅͊͊̚͘͜͠͠į̴̢̨̢̛̛̛̗̺͔̺̣̬͎̪̺̹͉̫̜̩̳͈̩̩̪̰̫͔͔̹̘͇̮̮̦̜͖̲̝̠̘̙͈͖̺̟̥̣̭̞̗̻̞̝̦̦͎̘͙̣͚͚̗͔͉̗̱̱̯͕͇̦̦̯͈̪̝͎̻̗̗͎̳̺͗̾͆̊͗̃̌͊̌͌̅̄̑̆̈́͐̑̔̾͌̓̑̎̏̈́̋̋̊͛͂̒͊͗̃͌̀͐͐͐̀͐̃̂̈́̌̽͒̇̄̈́̇̓̈́͑̇̐͂̉͗͑̔̈̂̀̇̊̈́̎͆͊͒̈́̈́͐̈́̂̇̈̏́̈́͘̚̕̕͘͜͜͝͝͝͝ͅͅṃ̵̨̧̢̨̢̡̛̛̛̛͖̰̦͕͙̮͕͖̼̹͚̻̩͙͍͚̠̻̦̤̖̙̪̱͖̰̮̘͉̜̱̺̺͈̮̤̯͚̰̯͇̪̍̀̈́͑̔̉͒́͌͆͛̋̆̓́̓̿̉̍͑̿̆͗͋̑̎̔̅̌̐̆̊̓̿̾̆́̉̌̀͊̏͂̄̄̆̈́͒̏̅̂̂̀̄̒̌̄̓̒͗͌̿̆̈̏̀̀̈́͑͗̓̾̆͊̽̈́͐̏̋̽͗̃͒̍̚͘̕̚̚̚͘̚̕̚͜͠͠͠͠͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅ"

Tim felt a chill rake down his back like a set of claws tearing at him.

"D-danny?" Tim was slightly relieved that he didn't just kill his boyfriend but he was still next to a headless corpse and the head was talking.

"Ẅ̶̦̟́h̴͓̱̐̓ỷ̴̲̩̄ ̷̯̰̇̉ằ̵͚̳m̴̻̉ͅ ̸̥́͝I̷̹̽ ̵̙̖̚o̸͖̐͑n̴̙͈͗ ̴̜̥̑̐ṫ̸̩̚h̶̗͆ę̷͗̆ ̶̯̉͠f̷̗̾ḷ̷͍͆̈o̶̘͉͝o̵͕̊r̶̮̰̀̚?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Tim already knew he was going to plead for not just his relationship but his life.

The body sat up on the bed leaned over the side of the bed and picked up the head. Instead of putting it back on his neck, he placed his head on his lap facing Tim.

There was a long silence. Danny's expression was unreadable.

"You...are a..."

"I'm a dullahan."

A dullahan...Danny is a dullahan. A headless symbol of death. The only story Tim remembered of such a being was Sleepy Hollow. The headless horseman.

Danny let out a sigh filled with exhaustion.

"I should have known. You were always obsessed with the ribbon. You didn't actually-"

"Don't think for a second that I don't care about you. I won't lie, I was obsessed but I was obsessed with you. Because that ribbon was attached to you not the other way around. I thought if I unraveled the mystery I would know you so much more." If Danny still had a head in his shoulders he'd be touching his soft but slightly chilled cheek like he always did to comfort him.

"I guess you were right."

***

So...dating a dullahan. That was a new one. And Danny forgave him. After a few weeks of groveling and begging. Tim was willing to bet Danny had forgiven him a while ago but wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. Which was fair.

Dullahans have to hide the seem in their neck with high collars and chokers most if the time. Danny chose the ribbon because it was Elle's favorite. Elle did really like her bows.

It turns out Danny didn't drink in public because his neck starts to leak which gets messy. He does drink by taking off his head and pouring it down his neck stump. Horrifying.

Needless to say a tea party with little Elle was interesting.

Danny's body and head also worked independently doing separate tasks. So he can clean and watch TV at the same time. But he can't change the channel.

Danny also didn't sleep with his head on usually. Dullahans have a special set of pillows for their heads whenever they take them off. It's off-putting to just have a head on a pillow placed on the nightstand. But you get used to it.

There was also the soul reaping. Dullahans were just one of the many supernaturals in Gotham. Since the city reeks of death there are souls that have a habit of staying when they shouldn't. Danny was naturally attracted to this place with his family. His older sister and brother were similar. Tim hadn't met them yet. But apparently his sister wasn't a dullahan but a banshee.

Tim certainly had a new world to explore but he wasn't going to get away with boundary-breaking again. He might end up losing his soul next time and be single.

Sure he has the deal with Elle thowing a basin of blood on him every once in a while.

"She's just playing. She's still learning how reaping works." Danny said helping Tim clean up.

Tim learned that Dullahans were unseelie fey on top of everything else. He already had a feeling knowing that Danny had a mischievous streak since the beginning.

Tim might as well be Danny's human pet the way he has him whipped. Very more he tied Danny's head on the way he liked. Let Danny have his way everytime. And let Danny use his lap as his head pillow.

It not like it's not a fair deal. Tim is very satisfied in this relationship.

The Green Ribbon-DCxDP Prompt

(Yes this is based on the story of the same name)

Tim can't handle not knowing. It was his fatal flaw. Like Odysseus and his hubris or Heracles and his wrath. Tim's curiosity would be his downfall.

So when he met a boy in class who had a striking green ribbon that wrapped around and around his neck, he wanted to know why. It wasn't not simple accessory as the only thing that changed was how it was tied in its bow.

And he never took it off.

When Danny arrived at the school it was a transfer mid-school year and everyone was drawn to the ribbon on his neck. Then it was forgotten because this is Gotham, it was best not to question.

Though others thought it was a fashion statement that caught on.

Still Tim began getting closer to him to ask why. He never got an answer but a shrug and said it's not important. Over and over Tim tried to find an answer but his investigation found nothing.

"If it's a scar, it's fine. I won't judge." Tim said comfortingly.

"It's nothing you need to worry about," Danny said not confirming or denying it.

"I got you a ribbon. Do you want to try it on?" Tim said holding up a red ribbon he had picked out just for Danny.

"I like the one I have. But I'll gladly take it." Danny said.

The next day Danny began wearing a braided red, black, and green ribbon on his arms. Those also became a trend.

"I'm going swimming with my brothers this weekend. Do you wanna join." Tim asked believing Danny would have to take off the ribbon.

Danny agreed but he spent the day in the shade with his baby sister who romped about in the sand. Around her neck was another green ribbon tied in a pretty bow on the back of her neck like a kitten given as a Christmas gift.

"Sorry Tim, I don't do well in the sun. I burn easily. Elle doesn't like being submerged in water so I have to keep her company." Sanny said as his sister flopped on his lap while he scrolled on his phone.

Dick didn't ask questions as he wished Tim luck with his new but strange boyfriend.

"He's kind of cute. And he's caring at least." Dick said.

Tim didn't listen because Dick had a taste for those who weren't totally normal.

Damian didn't care because as mysterious as it was he was more interested in snorkeling. Also, Elle asked him for some discarded seashells and that was his current mission on getting for her. They were going to build the most impressive sandcastle with them later.

Jason didn't say much since he was riding a jetski in the distance.

Later, at the end of the day Danny tired to clean the sand off his sister as she refused to get wet. Elle hated the friction on her skin and wouldn't let him get the sticky sand off.

Tim took this as a sign. They avoided water like the plague. In fact Danny never drank anything.

Jason eventually picked up Elle under her arms and carried her to the water and dunked her in the water for a second as she avoided the water like a cat. Then it was over and she was fine as Jason put her down. She stuck her tongue out and sprinted back to Danny who toweled her off.

Then the day ended and Tim was no closer to the answer.

Eventually they started dating and Tim hoped he'd be closer to knowing.

Then one evening while Danny was sleeping next to him Tim's curiosity consumed him. Tim pulled on that damned green ribbon until it came loose. It wasn't the right thing and he planned to apologize over and over to Danny.

Tim's face turned white when a thud echoed in the bedroom as Danny's head rolled off the bed and hit the ground.

[joyful-patatas]

They're Just A Kid

Chapter 3 || mary sues may be annoying in fiction, but i really wish i was one rn

“Do you need me to carry you?” “No. I’m fine.” “Are you certain?” “Yes. I am.” “Please do not lie to me.” “I’m not lying.” “You are leaning on the rock.” “So? I can still walk.” “Forgive me, but I have my doubts.” “Watch me.”

Word Count: 4,333

ao3 link

‘Okay. You’re fine Piper. You’re absolutely fine. It’s not like you’re about to get your throat slit anytime now—!’

“One wrong move and I slit her throat!”

'Oooor, do panic. You have every right to panic.'

They looked at Krog who went completely still with brows furrowed and clenching on the bloodied sword as the orc bandit’s body lay headless at his feet. Piper’s eyes were glued onto the headless corpse and its head that stopped rolling. She was no stranger to seeing headless corpses from watching gory horror movies and playing Skyrim with graphics mods, but this…was definitely not something she wanted to see in reality. A pool of blood started forming in the area around the orc bandit’s neck as Piper just watched it get bigger and bigger.

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?! I’m not kidding! I’ll kill her!” A small whimper escapes Piper’s lips as they feel the blade press harder against their neck.

‘Shitshitshit shit! Shit!’

“You could have killed them long before, yet kept them alive,” Piper could barely process Krog’s words as he tried negotiating. “Why would you only kill her now?”

“We just wanted ransom money, but that was before all went to shit!”

“What do you want now?”

“Let me go,” the bandit answered. “Don’t come after me either.”

“And you will release the child?” She nodded, but Piper noticed the suspicious look on the orc and the woman’s grasp on them tightened.

‘Dear Lord and saviour, Jesus Christ. I know we haven't talked much and I don't believe you exist, but please give me the power of y/n that can drop kick this bitch even with an injured leg. Or at least give it to Krog, PLEASE!’

“Alright. Release the child first and I will let you go.” Krog said while lowering his blade.

‘Don’t lower your sword! Don’t you fucking lower that sword yOU BITCH!’

“No! You let me go first and then I will let the brat go when I’m far enough.”

‘Oh, fuck. Please, I don’t care who you are or what you’ll do, just go! I’m not going to do anything!’

“The child’s leg is injured. They cannot walk too far and is having a hard time standing.”

She frowned and looked down at Piper, slightly retracting the blade from their neck. Piper acted before thinking and took the opportunity to bite down onto the woman’s arm. A loud yelp erupted from the bandit as Piper glanced back to see the dagger raised and quickly shut their eyes and prepared for the worst, but all they heard was a pained gasp as the bandit’s hold on their hair loosened. The sound of flesh ripping reached her ear, followed by a loud ‘thud’ as she felt a big, calloused hand hold them still.

“Kid.” At that, Piper let out a shaky breath and slowly opened their eyes, making sure not to look at where she heard the body fall. “Are you alright?”

Piper glanced at the sword in his hands. It was covered in red. Blood. 

Real blood.

‘It’s real. It’s all real.’

A slight chill ran up their spine as they gave him a small, but nervous nod. She didn’t know if he caught the reason of her discomfort or not due to how he moved to cover the sight of the body from her and lead her out of the room, insisting to get her wounds cleaned and checked.

'He killed them. He actually fucking killed them. Fuck, I mean, it was them or us. He didn’t have a choice. I…She was going to kill me. But…but now it’s just us two. What’s he gonna do? Is he going to do the same to me? Or worse? I–’

A loud snap made her blink as she looked up, flinching away upon seeing how close the orc’s face is to hers as a deep frown etched his face. He said, “Apologies for startling you. I have just been telling you to sit down three times and you have not responded.”

Piper looked to their side and saw the chair before looking around and realized they left the prison part of the cave and got into what seemed to be a dining room. Krog instructed Piper to sit once more, to which she did while hissing at the sharp pain on her thigh that resurfaced. Krog told her to stay seated as he started to look around for supplies in the room and Piper could only watch.

Honestly, when he proposed to help Piper out before they broke out of their respective cells, she did not actually expect him to go on his promise of helping them. If he really went with it, he would even carry her until her wound completely healed.

Piper didn’t understand. "Why are you helping me?" They asked in a shaky tone.

Piper didn’t expect him to hear what they said, but they assumed he did with how he momentarily stopped to look at her before going back to his search. He asked, "What do you mean?"

"You don't have any reason to help me. You're out of your cell and can easily leave."

"I am indebted to you, and an orc always repays his debts."

"I didn't do much though."

"You released me from my chains. You opened my cell door. You helped distract the elf so I can have the upper hand. All with an injured leg. And you think that is a measly task?" He walked back to Piper with fresh bandages and a red phial that Piper recognized as a minor healing potion.

"I mean, you're the one who...got rid of the bandits." The hesitance in her voice seemed to catch Krog’s attention as he frowned at her.

"May I ask if this was the first time you saw someone die before you?" Piper stayed quiet and only clenched on the ripped fabric of her dress. "I see...I apologize for having you see that. I have to admit, you are taking it quite well."

‘‘Taking it quite well??’ Do I look well to you???'

"I will go get some water. It won't be long." He walked out with what seemed like an empty bucket, leaving Piper alone in the dining area.

The cave only echoed the dripping of water within the cave, somehow making her more anxious. Only a few minutes passed and Krog has still not returned, which was enough to make Piper think of worse case scenarios. Some were about how he abandoned them. Others were about how he could have been jumped by other bandits and that she was now left to her own device. Krog didn't appear to be someone to just leave someone he promised to help, but they couldn't completely believe he would waste his time treating them.

Piper turned to look at the red phial and picked it up. Maybe he actually left. They’ll be sitting in a cave with dead bandits disguised as Imperial soldiers with no means or skills for survival. What if more bandits come? What if no one comes? Will she die of thirst? Of hunger? What are they supposed to do? What-?

"You will break the phial if you grip it that hard." Piper let out an inaudible shocked gasp as they looked up to Krog who placed the bucket now full of water down. "Put the potion down. We will need it."

Piper realized how tense she was gripping the phial and quickly eased her fingers to place it back on the table. Krog went to retrieve what looked like a sack and pulled out a small phial that was unfamiliar to them, but watched as he placed a few drops on his palm before rubbing it on his hands.

"You look troubled." Krog said as he took a cup of water from the bucket and poured it over his hands before rubbing again. "Could you tell me why?"

Piper went quiet for some time as he shook his hands dry before whispering, "I thought you left."

"I did not." His tone was firm as he proceeded to wet a rag. "I told you. An orc always repays his debts."

'He sounds angry.' Piper thought as they watched Krog squeezed excess water out before turning to them.

"Pull up your dress." 

‘Fuck! I knew it!’ “Why?” She snapped defensively.

“It will be troublesome to clean the wound with the dress in the way,” he replied calmly.

‘Ah.’ They thought, "oh. Right, right. My bad." They pulled up the fabric over their thigh to reveal the blood soaked bandages. 

Piper hissed when the bandages stuck to the wound and Krog had no choice but to pull it off, revealing the punctured flesh with a yellow-ish fluid forming in it.

“It’s infected.” He stated as he took the damp rag and quickly started cleaning the wound. He was surprisingly gentle while treating their injury and while Piper winced at the pain, she didn’t dare speak up against it in fear of upsetting him more than she assumed he already is.

‘Huh. His skin is dark green, but it’s paler in the palm area. Is it like melanin? I wonder how pigmentation works for non-human races–’ “Ow!” Piper hissed to which Krog quickly retracted the rag.

“Apologies. I know it hurts, but it will be worse if we do nothing.” He said while getting back to the task.

"Sorry.” Her voice was barely over a whisper, but he seemed to have heard since he stopped his work and looked at them with furrowed brows.

"For what?”

“For upsetting you.”

“I am not upset.” He said in a flat tone.

“You’re not?” They asked with genuine surprise.

“I am not.”

“You sure?”

“I am sure.” He let out what could have been a deep chuckle, but sounded more like a rumble from his chest as he returned to the task at hand.

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Definitely?”

"Definitely."

“No cap?”

“No-” he stopped and looked at them once again. “What is that ‘no cap’?”

“Uhh…way of saying, well, it's a slang. A slang that means ‘no lie’. You know, like, when you wear a cap, it’s like you’re hiding something so if someone is lying or saying something false, you say—” she brought her hand up above her brows and tilted her head down. “—cap or ‘you’re capping’. If it’s not a lie, you say no cap.”

“That’s…” he seemed to be trying to find a word to describe what he thought. “—interesting.”

“So, no cap? You’re not upset with me?”

He was quiet for a bit before replying, “No cap.”

“Okay. Nice to know.” Krog finished cleaning the wound and started wrapping the bandage around her leg.

“Is the word ‘cool’ also a slang?” He asked.

“Hm? I…guess?”

“You guess?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

He hummed, “What does it mean? I assume it does not mean ‘a low temperature’.” Piper didn’t know if that was Krog trying to be humorous, but the corner of her lips twitched up.

“Well, it can mean that, but I just say it when I think something is amazing, awesome, or when you just think a person is cool.”

“And a cool person is…?”

“Someone…someone who is true to themselves, but is great to be around with, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“Listen, I never had to explain what it meant before. Everyone sort of had a common understanding of the connotation of the word.”

“I see.” He hummed as he secured the bandages and uncorked the red phial and handed it to Piper who carefully took it from hand. “This will definitely leave a scar, but it will be proof that you’ve pressed forward against the odds once it has fully healed.”

“Eh, I always thought I could use a scar or two.” Piper sniffed the content of the bottle and gagged at the smell.

‘Jesus, is this what I make my character constantly drink in the middle of battle?!’

“If you want to recover quickly, you will want to drink it now despite the smell.” She sighed at his words before chugging the potion, ignoring the awfully bitter taste of the liquid.

Piper felt something warm spread through their body and the pain at their thigh was quick to numb. She tried to stand up, but Krog was quick to force her down on her seat and say, “Rest. It is still not fully healed.”

“The potion doesn’t heal immediately?” Krog looked at them like she just said the most idiotic thing.

“No. It speeds up the healing process, but does not heal everything in seconds. Your injury should heal in a week or two.”

“A week?!”

“Yes. A week. Unfortunately, we cannot stay here until then since more bandits could be lurking nearby. Hopefully we can run into a nearby town so you can rest safely.”

A week. A week of being unable to walk. A week to being more vulnerable than Piper already was with a limping leg. A week depending on the kindness of an orc she has known for…an hour at most? At this rate, she’ll be needing to try and be the most low maintenance person that has ever existed so he wouldn’t get annoyed by her too soon.

“May I ask what you are doing here?”

Piper got confused at Krog’s question. “Uh, the bandits?”

“No. I meant, what are you doing in Skyrim? You do not look like a Nord, but you seem to be a noble based on your dress.”

‘Wait…waitwaitwaitwait. Hold the fuck up.’

“You think I’m a noble?” Piper asked, astonished as Krog’s brows creased.

“Are you not? The dress looks expensive. Useless, but expensive.”

Piper stifled a laugh by covering her mouth, which just sounded like a sneeze as her shoulders slightly shook as Krog started questioning her with, “What’s wrong?” and “Is it not expensive?”

'I got it for 30 bucks at Winners bro. So, not really.’

“I’m not a noble.” Piper finally answered.

“Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

He stared at her for a moment before letting out a deep breath.

“So you are not a noble.” Piper nodded their head at the statement. “Then what brings you to Skyrim?”

“Sightseeing?” Krog merely stared quietly until Piper sighed and said, “I…I don’t know how I got here to be honest. I just woke up in a forest and then the shit with the bandits happened and, well, you know the rest.”

‘Sounds more ridiculous when I say it out loud.’ Piper tugged at the tangled, dirt covered hair while avoiding Krog’s intense stare.

“From which province do you reign?”

“Reign? Like, come from?” Piper earned a nod from him. “I…also don’t know.”

‘Great. So great. What an amazing situation to be in. I can’t just say I’m from Canada because Canada doesn’t fucking exist here. 

“I would appreciate it if you would be honest with me.”

‘What’s with this dude calling me a liar all of a sudden?’ Piper scowled before stating firmly, “I am being honest. I have no idea where I’m from in Tamriel.”

‘You can’t call me a liar after that. I know I’m lying, but I am putting some truths into it.’

Krog continued his damn staring before sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. “I am having trouble coming up with a solution on where you should reside with this little information. You say you are not a noble, you do not know how you arrived in Skyrim, and you don’t know where you are from. Do you at least have family? Or a group of people you can seek shelter with?”

The question made her halt. Family. Piper did have a family, but not in Skyrim. She still could not make sense of things. How did she get here? How can she get back? Did anyone notice her disappearance?

"No," she finally answered while tugging a hair strand much more harshly. "I don’t."

The silence was heavy and Piper couldn't bring themself to look and see what sort of expression Krog had. "I am sorry. I did not mean to bring up bad memories.”

Piper did not expect to receive an apology and quickly shook their head. “No. No, it’s fine. It…I just had a long day, y’know?”

His expression didn’t seem to change much as he seemed to be deep in thought. “I hope, well…apologies. I–" he cleared his throat before slowly extending his hand towards the top of Piper's head as she quickly leaned away, looking at the large, looming hand warily.

'What the fuck? What's he trying to do? Don't touch me.'

Krog seemed to have understood what Piper was thinking and retracted his hand before rubbing his stubble beard with a huff.

'Fuck. I annoyed him. Damn it, Piper! You could at least let him think you have his trust. It's not like he was going to crush your skull you dumb bitch. You're going to end up driving him away and if he goes away, you're as good as dead-!'

"We should get going.” He walked around the room, opening chests and drawers to pack anything he deemed to be essential equipment in a haste. “Can you change alone?”

‘Thank god, he’s not abandoning me yet.’ Piper quietly let out a relieved breath. “Yeah? I think so.”

“Good.” He pulled some grey fabric and brought it to Piper. “Get changed quickly. I will look for more things needed for our journey in the meantime.”

With that, he immediately went back to searching as Piper watched carefully to make sure he wasn’t looking. They settled with putting the pants on, knowing the skirt part of the dress would cover before seeing they’d also have to get out of the dress entirely before putting the shirt on.

‘Nah. Fuck this.’

They stood up slowly, no longer feeling the pain in their leg and limped to change behind the nearest boulder to get rid of the dress. With the shirt on, Piper limped her way back to where Krog was with the dress in their arms, but stopped to stare back at the place they were kept captive.

‘Should I get the bag? I don’t know what else is in there, but there could be other useful stuff. Just…don’t look at the corpses.’

She slowly made her way to the door and opened it. Somehow, it felt more dangerous and frightening than the first time, but Piper gathered whatever bravery (if they can even call it that) they had before limping in, eyes solely focused on the knapsack.

‘Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.’

They managed to reach the sack and peered inside to see its content. There doesn’t seem to be much other than lockpicks and potion vials. Piper hummed while looking through them, “Could be useful.” They slipped the sack over them and left the ruined dress on the table before heading back, but accidentally looked down and saw the corpses. Piper froze. Eyes glued on them. The blood is freshly red as they recall the events that led to their current state.

‘They’re just NPCs Pip. Don’t take it so seriously. NPCs can respawn. Most Skyrim NPCs suck anyway.’ After Piper took in a deep breath, they limped out of the room to meet Krog. ‘It’s not that bad. You’ve seen worse in slasher movies. Besides, you bleed every month in the vajayjay. You see blood all the time.’

As Piper returned to the centre of the cave, Krog seemed to have finished packing up and was now wearing iron armour and strapping waraxes to his hilt. Piper waited silently, leaning on the stone wall of the cave to release some weight off of their injured leg as Krog finished up what he was doing. She watched as he picked up a backpack filled up, and she swore she heard him let out a grunt. They weren’t sure if his grunt was from the weight, but didn’t pry. He looked around, eyes finally settling on Piper before walking up towards them.

“Ready?” He asked as Piper simply nodded. “Do you need me to carry you?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Please do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are leaning on the rock.”

“So? I can still walk.” 

“Forgive me, but I have my doubts.”

“Watch me.” Piper huffed before pushing herself off the rock and started limping away. “See? I’m fine.”

“The exit is that way.” Piper turned to the direction Krog nodded towards.

They stared for a moment before muttering a “I knew that” before changing directions with Krog following behind. It was awkward and Piper was walking much slower than she would have preferred and probably more than what Krog would have preferred, but he showed no signs of disdain and annoyance and simply walked besides them, still keeping some distance between the two. 

Piper wondered where they could have met Krog before in the game. There weren’t many orsimer NPCs you can interact with outside of the stronghold other than the most obvious such as the blacksmiths in Markarth and Urag, the librarian of the College of Winterhold and yet…Piper felt like she had seen Krog before. Large, long, and black dreadlocks with vivid yellow eyes and black sclera that terrified Piper when they first saw him in the dark. He didn’t sound like the other general NPC voices.

He for sure wasn’t a bandit. A companion? Was it one of those quest lines you don’t know about even after playing Skyrim since its release? Well, that didn’t make much sense because the bandits that disguise themselves as Imperial soldiers kill you and don’t kidnap you? Is it an instance where you could follow them for hours without being caught and your Dragonborn can come to this exact cave and save Krog?

That’ll be something. 

~|~|~|~

Piper and her older brother, Jojo, sat on the living room couch as the Skyrim intro started playing. The screen gradually brightened and cleared to see the people in the carriage and Jojo took the opportunity to scan his surroundings. He saw his character’s hands bound and some other men bound along with him.

“Why’s everyone ugly?” Piper scrunched her nose as she witnessed the faces of the Nords in the carriage.

“Piper.”

“What?”

“What did I say about calling someone ugly?”

“Sorry.” She muttered as she continued to watch. “You said not to say it because it hurts people.”

“Exactly.”

Piper didn’t pay much attention to the dialogue and proceeded to lean onto her older brother’s arm and watch the scene.

“Kuya! Play the cat one!” Piper exclaimed as he scanned through the different races he could play.

“I kinda want to play an orc this time.” He muttered as she looked up at him, agast.

“NO! Play the cat!”

“My game, my character. You can play Khajiit when you get older.”

“Why can’t I play now?”

“Because the game is rated M for mature.”

“I am mature.”

“You’re six.”

“So?”

“Wait twelve more years and then you can play Skyrim yourself.”

Piper grumbled and crossed her arms as she stared at the screen. “Orcs are ugly.”

“Ay, Piper! You don’t call someone ugly because of what they are, but what they do.” Jojo scolded, but Piper was too stubborn to listen.

She observed him modify the orc character and slowly got more and more intrigued with the peculiar features. “Why is the skin green?”

“Why is our skin brown?”

“I dunno.”

“We’re just born with it. Nothing we can do about it.”

“So orcs are born with green skin?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Jojo went through different skin tones. “Oh, there’s brown and grey too apparently. Which do you like?”

Piper stared at the screen as her brother switched between green, grey and brown skin for the orc. Maybe it was just because it was a peculiar colour to see as skin, but she was quick to answer “Green!”

“Alright. Green it is!” He chuckled as he continued creating the character.

Piper watched as her brother went on choosing the other features, sometimes asking her what she thought and which one to pick. He ended up with green skin, small horns protruding from his forehead down to the top of his brows, long black dreadlocks tied back, and yellow eyes with black sclera. There was short facial hair that went from the side of his cheeks and down to his chin. A scar shaped like lightning was apparent on his left cheek and going down the side of his neck

“So? What do you think?”

“He looks cool.”

“Good, now I just need to figure out a name.”

“Skullcrusher.” Piper proposed.

“No. I want an actual Skyrim orc name.”

“Bonecrusher.”

“No.”

“Headcrusher.”

“No!”

“Spinecrusher!”

“What is with you and the word ‘crusher’?”

“It’s cool.”

Jojo scoffed before chuckling. “Crushing skulls, bones, spines, and heads are cool?”

“Yeah!”

“Jesus Christ.” 

Piper simply rolled their eyes. “Fineee. Beheader works too.”

“Do you even know what that means?”

“Yes.”

“What does it mean?”

“Someone who bed heads.”

“I…What?”

“Someone who bed heads!”

“That makes no sense.”

“Well, maybe you’re a stupid.”

“You always manage to find a way to piss me off. You know that?” He laughed exasperatedly as he typed in a name that Piper couldn’t quite read. “Done.”

“What did you name him?”

“Krogarz the Beheader. Krog, for short. I’m going to make him a strong warrior who dual wields axes!”

Piper only quietly listens and watches as the events of the opening game unfold. She was curious to see what her brother meant and continued watching silently.

She looked forward to watching the adventures of Krogarz the Beheader on screen.

[caranelguild]

Our adventurers rest among the kobold corpses. Krieg idly begins stripping the scales and flesh from the wyrmling's head with the ambition to fashion a decorative pauldron. Vola sits next to a small cleft in the wall, which turns out to be a cleverly painted tapestry that is hanging a little crooked, hiding an alcove in which sits an iron chest. Quagoon happily picks the lock, revealing a small horde of gems and a few rich garments.

After treating their wounds and catching their breaths, the party moves on, following their bound kobold prisoner down the corridor whence the fire newts came. They pass through a couple empty rooms (one full of headless kobold statues) before listening at a stone door and hearing scuffling feet and draconic argument beyond. "Just the guards of the leader, you know, you'll get your answers soon enough," says the kobold, and he leaps eagerly to open the door. Vola catches him and Krieg holds him down. He sticks to his story, which results in Krieg chopping off one of his feet. At that, the frantic prisoner screams out loudly to alert the residents of the adjoining room.

Well, nothing for it, then. The door is opened, revealing a room full of kobolds.

The little dragon folk in the large room are outfitted curiously with sacks and pots and bags and many-pocketed trousers. A handful even have small cages upon their backs housing small animals! Doesn't matter - they'll die like any other minion. Battle is joined.

Vials and clay pots fly and crash, spreading acid, alchemist's fire, and hungry grubs. A few sacks are opened to liberate swarms of angry wasps, and two cages relinquish a couple of startled skunks. Vola is slapped by a scorpion on a long stick, Krieg is stabbed by daggers, and Quagoon's hireling Pip embarrasses herself by slipping in some fluorescent slime. In short order, however, the kobolds all lie dead.

Except the kobold dragonshield with only one foot, who is now crawling with parasitic grubs and in the throes of a fever.

The large room has many exits, and the prisoner is not cogent enough to give any sort of direction, so a door is chosen more or less at random and the party moves on.

After a few turns, Quagoon volunteers to scout ahead down a winding corridor.

He comes running back on silent feet, warning of running footsteps soon to follow. The party considers traps, using the pots and vials picked from the kobold corpses, but ultimately all planning is abandoned when the promised footsteps threaten an imminent meeting, accompanied by clanging armour and heavy breathing.

The gang retreats to a doorway and turn around to face the enemy. A frantic half-dragon turns the corner, dressed in full plate armour and wielding a longsword-as-shortsword in one hand and a shortsword-as-dagger in the other.

Krieg and one of the lackeys meets them in the corridor. Then Vola gets her feet under her and joins - but the half-dragon had been waiting for another foe, and bathes the three in its fire breath.

Then, around the corner, come two burly men sweating hard, their eyes wild, crossbows swinging from their backs and maces at their belts.

The combat is swift and fierce. The half-dragon is betrayed by their breastplate, which shatters at a blow, leaving them exposed to a killing strike. Then the thugs are dispatched one after the other.

Krieg spends a few minutes stripping the half-dragon of its surviving armour, which fits him decently enough.

Then it's, as always, onwards!

This passage ends between a rock (a stone door) and a hard place (an iron door). Both have swollen in the subterranean, draconic heat and are stuck in their jambs. (Speaking of the heat, some of the party begin ailing under its effects.) Vola batters at the stone door with her maul, breaking it down in ten strikes. The room beyond is an empty barracks, spread with rudimentary beds and collections of poor belongings.

The party tries a door in this room - a stuck iron door, like the one they left behind, and Vola takes a couple of runs at it before it screeches open to reveal a corridor.

In a rare move, however, the party goes back to the untouched iron door. Vola has the measure of these doors, now, and busts it open with a single shoulder-ram.

Inside is a round chamber dominated by a massive, but not quite life-sized stone statue of a dragon. Its head lies in stone dust beneath the arched neck, iron rebar protruding from its stump. A beam of sourceless golden light shines upon the statue, a reprieve from the flicking red and orange that has dimly illuminated the rest of the dungeon.

Moved by the ruin, perhaps by the light or his shared ancestry with its subject, Krieg goes to the fallen head and asks Vola and a lackey for a hand.

Together, the trio lift it above their shoulders to slot the rebar back into its slots; the head is returned and the statue is again whole. The "sunlight" glimmers upon its eyes, turning them almost gem-like.

Soundlessly, one of the statue's paws rises a foot above the floor, revealing an object in its shadow.

Quagoon withdraws an arrow made of black iron and the statue's foot returns to rest.

[lured-into-wonderland]

His both hands on the steering wheel. Her safety belt not fastened. She curled on the passenger’s seat slightly (and slowly) moving away from Envy’s vicinity. As far away as she could; but still remaining close enough (and still enough) not to cause unnecessary suspicions in her abductor’s mind. That small distance giving her a false sense of…security? Of hope? Watching the branches brushing against the car widows, the unwanted picture re-appeared before her eyes. Again and again. No matter if she kept her eyes opened or shut. Nothing helped. Nothing could stop her from experiencing that view. Again and again until there wasn't enough strong will not to start sobbing. But still she watched. Observed. The world outside. Nunnally was still looking for her chance. To run. To escape. To survive.

If they were passing through the busier street, stopped on the traffic lights, encountered the police patrol…no! the last option would probably be no good. Nunnally was, somehow, convinced that it would not help her. It would only end up in another headless corpse. Of the officer. She didn't want that. But she also didn't want to share the fate with that creature that she had seen before.

None of her hopes seemed to come true. The road was leading among the trees; otherwise in the emptiness and towards the emptiness with no safe places to hide. Even if she jumped out, even if she had that advantage of time, he’d be able to stop and…catch her eventually? But waiting to get killed was also not good…why (and where) were he taking her? She moved even closer to the door; her hand reaching for the handle, pressing it gently. It was not locked! She could…escape… Oh, stop this foolishness Nunnally! You cannot escape now! You cannot escape… You cannot… You… The girl shook her head to stop herself from doing something stupid just before she heard these words (“…so you’re awake…”).

Turning abruptly towards Envy, looking at his beautiful, sickeningly beautiful face, she did not understand. She was not sleeping. Did he notice her poor attempt to run…?

“…I…I am sorry…I…I was not…” – she started only to realize that the question was not directed to her…there was someone else in the car…another girl? Another victim…

“Please no…” – she muttered; she became more and more frightened, if that was at all possible; a headless corpse: she did not want to become one. She did not want to…

Only then when Envy looked at her, the realization hit Nunnally that it was not as she thought it was. ( “Envy… Mrs Saebom…”) – are these even their real names, she wondered as her head moved involuntarily to meet the terribly dark, yet beautiful, eyes of Envy's grandmother. How could this woman be anyone’s grandmother…!?? She twitched and moved closer to Envy. As close as she could as if the person she feared most just a few seconds ago could now offer her much needed protection against that person in the back sit…She almost clung to Envy. Was her hand actually squeezing his arm? His shoulder?

(“…aren’t you going to say something…?”) – but what was there to say? Nice to meet you would be natural but it was not nice to meet them. Was he urging her to introduce herself? Should she lie or give her real name?

“M-my name is Nunnally. It’s…it’s nice to meet you.” – she opted for the truth; she knew the second sentence was a lie; probably so unfitting. Perhaps it would make them laugh, but perhaps just keeping the crumbles of normality would keep her sane. She needed to stay calm with a bright mind.

She sat back moving away from Envy. Now her willingness to oppose had almost completely faded away. With two people in the car she stood no chance.

“Tell me, Envy…” – she tried to keep it casual even if her voice was trembling and there were still tears rolling down her cheeks – “Where are we going? Where are you taking me? I…I need to come back home. Soon. My father will be worried.”

Although she was sure she’d not see home for a long time if ever again…

“You’re letting me going back home…right?” – she moved her head and looked at him with big doe-like eyes; the face of animal just a seconds before it was to be hit by a car.

“Your grandson will drive me back home, is that not so Ms. Saebom?” – she thought that she might get some support from the lady in the backseat. The moment she asked, she remember how frightening her eyes were.

(“It is not happening…”)

“It is not happening…why is it happening?”

@lured-into-wonderland​ || cont.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍,     &   the  young  serial  killer  gets  inside.  he  doesn’t  look  back  at  her  face,  just  reaches  over   &   grabs  the  keys  off  the  dashboard  before  starting  up  the  car.  a  sudden  blaze  of  white  light  splashes  across  the  many  trees  ahead,  illuminating  their  earlier  path  as  well  as  the  glistening  leaves  that  shine  like  garnets  in  the  dark,  but  she  knows  the  truth.  she  knows  better  than  to  speak  of  it  as  the  vehicle  slowly  withdraws,  going  farther   &   father  back   ──   a  sea  of  dried  up  leaves   &   crooked  branches  brushing  loud  against  their  windows   ──   finally,  back  on  the  moonlit  street.  a  false  sense  of  safety  settling  in.

envy  doesn’t  stop  here  however,  most  nonchalantly  tagging  a  sun  visor  down  despite  her  loud  sobbing.  his  own  face  cold   &   indifferent,  much  like  a  finely  cut  statue  of  white  marble.  it’s   sickeningly  beautiful   to  look  at,  but  regardless  of  its  near-flawless  ingenuity,  such  thorough  lack  of  emotion  makes  that  outstanding  appearance  completely  shallow.  disturbing,  even.  after  all,  what  is  a   human   without  a  heart....?

those  dark  eyes  doesn’t  glimpse  her  way  as  she  continues  to  whimper,  being  focused  on  the  road  solely.  their  destination  long  lost  within  a  horizon  of  dark  trees.  well,  that  is  until  something  makes  the  leather  seats  at  the  back   groan   &   just  like  that,  envy  smiles  wide,  adjusting  the  rear  view  mirror  slightly.   ❝   ah...  so  you’re  awake.... ?   ❞

                   no  answer.

❝     i  see.  that’s  wonderful.     ❞   visibly  perking  up,  the  little  killer  finally  glances  at  nunnally.  the  wide  smile  never  reaching  those  cold,  dead  eyes  as  he  mutters,  speaking  in  a  low,  seemingly  kinder  tone,   ❝     now  that  we’re  all  settled  down....   i  believe  introductions  are  in  order.  i’m  envy,   &   this  is  my  grandmother,  mrs.  saebom.     ❞   something  at  the  corner  of  her  eye  suddenly  shifts.  something  terribly  dark,   &   crooked.  something  which  definitely   wasn’t   there  a  mere  second  ago.   ❝    well?  aren’t  you  going  to  say  anything.... ?     ❞

[grampstaxidermy]

Volturi incorrect quotes

(Aka adventures of the vampire genz support human,(Y/n) )

Caius, reluctantly after an argument: Fine!…You're right.

(Y/n): Wow, that's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

————

Aro, in a coven meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

(Y/n),trying their best: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Aro, with the tone of someone who is used to (Y/n): Outstanding.

Aro: This is what I’m talking about people.

————

Felix: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

(Y/n): That's why I carry two swords.

Felix, both scared and into it: Fair enough.

————

*Alec and (Y/n) skipping stones on lake*

Alec, smiling peacefully: It’s such a beautiful evening isn’t it?

(Y/n), whispering: Take that you fucking lake.

————

Demetri, standing in front of the corpse of readers creepy coworker: Am I in trouble?

(Y/n),looking down at Afton’s headless body: Take a guess.

Demetri: No?

(Y/n):

(Y/n): You’d be correct.

-Bonus

(Y/n) and Demetri, standing in front of Afton's body in the gardens holding a shovel: We can explain.

Marcus, amused having witnessed the whole ordeal: Can you?

(Y/n): If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

Marcus: No need, carry on.

____

(Y/n): You're my best friend and the little sister I’ve always wanted, you know I would do anything for you.

Jane: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule.

(Y/n): Absolutely not.

————

Aro: You see little one, I am what most would call a reverse necromancer.

(Y/n),the drunk human Aro stumbled upon: Isn't that just killing people?

Aro: Ah, technicality.

————

Felix, stuck on babysitting guard duty: Okay, truth or dare?

(Y/n): Truth

Felix: How many hours have you slept this week?

(Y/n):

(Y/n): ...Dare

Felix: Go to bed.

(Y/n), pouting: I don’t like this game.

————

Caius, tending to (Y/n)'s wounds: How would you rate your pain?

(Y/n),high on pain meds: Zero stars. Would NOT recommend.

————

Jane: I’m gonna need a human skull and I can't have you ask any questions why.

(Y/n),the goth receptionist who is absolutely thriving in the volturi: Only if you also don't ask why.

(Y/n): *Pulls out 7 pristine human skulls from their bag* Take your pick.

Jane:

(Y/n):

Jane, impressed: This one is fine.

————

(Y/n): Afton and I have the kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other's-

Afton: Sentences.

(Y/n): Don't interrupt me.

————

Demetri, Storming into the receptionists break room: Can you keep a secret?

(Y/n),not even looking up from their book as they sip their coffee: Do you know anything about my life?

Demetri: …..No I do not. Good point.

————

Aro: If there's going to be a big dramatic scene, wait until I get back.

(Y/n): Obviously. I can't flip this table by myself, it’s heavy.

————

(Y/n),trapped in a warehouse with Alec: Don’t worry, I have a few knives up my sleeve.

Alec: I think you mean cards.

(Y/n), pulling knives out of their sleeves: No, I do not.

————

Caius: You love me, right, (Y/n)?

(Y/n): Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

————

Aro: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.

(Y/n),in physical and mental pain: You need to stop, please.

____

Felix, after some guy said something awful about the twins: Violence isn't the answer.

(Y/n): You’re right.

Felix: *sighs in relief*

(Y/n),cracking their knuckles: Violence is the question.

Felix: What?

(Y/n), bolting away: AND THE ANSWER IS YES!

Felix, running after them: (Y/N) NO-

————

Witch!(Y/n),keeping Caius captive at their house: Hey, it's your turn to wash dishes.

Caius: I'LL WASH THE WALLS RED WITH YOUR BLOOD.

(Y/n): 'Kay, but before that, wash the dishes, also use soap this time?

————

Afton: Three words, say them and I’m yours.

(Y/n): Go Fuck Yourself.

————

Felix: I trust (Y/n).

Demetri: You think they know what they're doing?

Felix: I wouldn't go that far.

(Y/n),having been standing beside them the whole time: Fuck you guys.

————

Jane, in a high voice, holding Barbie: Hey ken! I was thinking about going back to school and starting a career!

(Y/n), in a deep voice, holding ken: Nonsense, Barbie. You’re staying home and having my kids.

Felix: What the actual fuck are you guys doing?

Jane: Playing systemic oppression.

————

(Y/n), walking into the throne room holding a python: Guys I found a snake, what do I name him?

Caius, absolutely horrified while Aro is laughing hysterically: You WHAT–

Marcus: William Snakepeare.

————

Felix: Hey, (Y/n)! Tell the twins about the birds and the bees.

(Y/n),An idiot: They're disappearing at an alarming rate.

————

Some new guard: I really like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ thing you guys have going on.

(Y/n): It’s not an act, it’s just that I’m mean and Felix isn’t.

————

Heidi: (Y/n) and I are having Twins.

Jane and Alec: That's gre-

(Y/n), slamming adoption papers on the table: It's you two, sign here.

————

Demetri: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

(Y/n),the goth receptionist: How am I supposed to know?

Felix: You say, as if we don’t all use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

(Y/n): *sighs*

(Y/n): You wouldn't be trapped.

————

Alec: Truth or dare?

(Y/n): Dare

Alec: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.

(Y/n): Hey Afton?

Afton, blushing: Yeah?

(Y/n): Could you move? I’m trying to get to Heidi.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Henchman y/n who’s got venom(the symbiote) in her and just gets mad at her and transforms into him for a second, bites whoever was annoying her head off, then goes back and acts like nothing happened

Help I'm thinking a mix between among us and venom and I'm wheezingggg.

Symbiote

Your fellow henchman, Max, yelped as you crawled out of the vent. "What the hell are you playing at!?" He cried out. "Oh relax, I was making sure the vents were clear. We don't need any rodent problems now do we?" You asked pointedly. "You couldn't be any more suspicious!" He hissed.

The Riddler: "You two are vexing me." He grumbled with irritation. "Yeah, Max, quit being annoying!" You muttered. "You are just as annoying, (Y/N)." The Riddler retorted. "Ha!" Max fired back. The Riddler rolled his eyes when he suddenly heard a squelching sound and then loud 'chomp' noise. The Riddler spun on his heel, just in time to see a headless Max fall to a crumpled heap on the ground. You looking at him with a confused expression. The Riddler looked between you and the corpse. "Did you-?" He began and you shook your head with a quick. "Nope." He narrowed his gaze. "Really? You're going to blatantly lie?" "Hey, if you knew why did you ask?" You shot back. "You better get rid of this." He scowled. "Then I need your help." You replied and he groaned. "Then why did you kill him if you weren't prepared to get rid of him!?" "Why do you think I have a choice in this!? He was annoying me and then he lost his head. That's life!" "That is not-" Edward cut himself off, dragging a hand down his face. "Fine. You do this again and you're on your own. I'll teach you one time and one time only." He grumbled.

Scarecrow: "Children, play nicely." He said as he looked around the warehouse. His two henchmen grumbled, sending each other dirty looks. He continued to scan the warehouse with his eyes. It looked relatively old- abandoned. He was certain he could at least hide his fear toxin here if not produce it. As he continued his considerations a few moments of silence passed. Then there was a wet squelching noise and a chomp! Jonathan turned to see a headless Max and you, rocking on your heels, hands behind your back trying to seem innocent. Jonathan blinked at corpse. "Anything you wish to add?" He asked you. "Hm?" You asked. Jonathan gestured to the healess body on the floor. "Uh...he might have deserved it?" You suggested. Suddenly you grimaced and rolled your tongue. "Ew! Hair in my mouth!" You yelped before trying to remove it from your tongue with your fingers. "How does that even happen!? It wasn't even my mouth!?" "So it was you." Jonathan deadpanned. You whined, a reluctant admission of guilt.

Two-Face: "Will you two shut up?" Harv' huffed. "Boss, I don't think we should let (Y/N) out of our sight given their...condition." Max sneered. You glared at him. "If you're chicken shit then don't stand next to them." Harv' grunted. "I-it's! It's not that!" Max said hurriedly. "Then shut your mouth!" Harvey snapped. When he turned back around he heard a squelch, a cut off yelp and a chomp. Harvey paused before turning around to look at the scene behind him. He wasn't surprised Max was dead. He was surprised it was only his head that was gone. You looked at each other in silence for a moment. "Was that necessary?" Harvey asked flatly. "That'll show him I can do it whilst he's looking at me." You grumbled. He sighed. "Well at least the childish arguing is over with." You let out a loud burp before covering your mouth quickly. "Damn!" Harv' exclaimed. "He's salty." You winced. "So...you gonna finish the poor bastard off or are you gonna tell us that we gotta hide his body somewhere? You know, people don't just lose their heads. It'll be obvious it isn't an accident." You sighed. "I'll get him...you know I get he didn't like me much but why is he so salty!?" You whined. Two-Face clapped you on the back. "Get it over with. You'll get to shit him out later." Harv' chuckled. "It's not me eating him!" You cried out exasperated. "I am." A low gravely voice came from your mouth, tone smug. "You shut it! This is your fault!" You huffed to yourself. "It's almost like looking in a mirror." Harvey said flatly. There was another squelching noise as the symbiote revealed itself. "Until that happens." Harvey added.

Black Mask: "Shut it!" Roman snapped making the two of you flinch. "No, you won't!" You protested quickly making Roman and the two other henchmen look at you. "Sorry...not you guys...the...you know. I have a parasite." "Parasite!?" You responded to yourself, voice lower and deeper and very offended. You slapped a hand over your mouth. Roman rolled his eyes shaking his head before he turned back around. The second he did there was a squelch and a chomp. He turned back to see a headless body of Max. Roman immediately looked to you. "Wasn't me!" You said quickly. "What the fuck do you mean it wasn't fucking you? Who else could have his fuckin head off in seconds!?" Roman asked icily through a clenched jaw. "Georgie!" You pointed to him. "He's a big guy!" Roman pointed to you. "You better consider yourself fucking lucky you've got that thing in you, freak." "Yes, boss." You squeaked. "Georgie, get rid of him." Roman ordered. "Where do I put him?" Georgie asked. "Fuckin' anywhere!? Dangle him off one of Gothams bridges for all I fuckin' care!" Roman snapped. "Put him in the room with all the electrics?" You offered.

Mad Hatter: "Enough of your squabbling! It's nothing but troubling!" Jervis scolded. "He shouldn't even care where I've been or going to." You grumbled. "You're the first person we should be-" Max cut off his retort as Jervis turned, pulling out his pocket watch. "Which one of you wants to go first?" Jervis asked and the two of you stayed silent with a wide eyes, pleading stare. Jervis turned away once more, pocketwatch returning to his pocket. Max reached out and pushed you. You pushed back, he pushed again, as did you. Before he could push you for a third time there's a squelch and a chomp. Your eyes were wide, staring at a headless Max. "Oops." You whispered as Jervis turned back to see the scene. "He pushed me." You said quickly, pointing at Max. "So you bit his head off? Literally?" Jervis tilted his head. "Well...not me specifically." You replied. "Regardless this is not ideal. I don't know how else to feel." He replied dismayed. "It's fine, I can...finish him off." You winced at the oddity of your sentence. Jervis sighed. "Don't ruin your dinner, (Y/N)." You nodded. "I won't." He quickly left you to it, not keen on the thought of witnessing such a thing.

Now i just want to write the rogues playing among us. Thanks fam😂😩

[offwilds]

Skellige, 1030

She is silent but rarely still, stalking the edges of the room as he holds audience; fidgeting with the moonstone hang about her throat, with the silver rings upon her fingers that glow with strange magics, even as she stands beside his throne. You are my right hand, jarl Drummond says, when she asks why she must remain at his side through these dull proceedings. I would have your counsel, in such important matters.

It is not my place to counsel you, lord Skjordal, she answers, her expression ever cold and placid as still water.

Still, he learns to read her mood in the set of her shoulders, the sureness of her step. An Craite riders come from the east, wearing the colors of the old noble houses; Harald, the Cripple, comes, a storm of a man, hard with all his old blood and older fights, and her hands curl into fists, fury and mistrust flaring in her violet eyes. Jarls cometh from the lands beyond the southern cliffs of Ard Skelling, they all lie, the an Craites lie, and she nearly chokes on her laughter, deep and charming and menacing all at once, equal parts outraged and amused at their daring.

Once, only once, does she stand still and cool at his shoulder—silent, as he moves through the blighted and burnt-out halls of his keep in Undvik. He chokes on a cry upon seeing the blackened corpse of his throne; still, he climbs the steps and lowers himself gingerly to sit. The charcoaled edges crumble beneath his shaking hands, but his seat, the seat of Hemdall long before him, was carved of heartwood. It holds. It will hold, until the ending of the world.

Nereinne comes, wordlessly, to stand beside him.

Nereinne, who's feared and despised both by his retainers who whisper malice in his ear; Nereinne of the wilds, of strange, unfriendly lands, whom upon they lay the blame when the blood of the jarl's daughter is spilled and the land darkens with all his sorrow and rage; Nereinne who gathers the blood of their jarl, his headless body after Harald the Cruel, Harald the Cripple, Harald of clan an Craite slays him. Liar, they call her, later, traitor; lies they whisper from tongue to tongue and mouth to mouth, cruel untruths who maim her name, to cleanse themselves of any blame; every fault , they say, lays with the wicked witch, daughter of blood Chaos.

Still, she remains, cold and still as water; still, she says not a word: it does not matter, whether they blame her, or themselves. Their jarl is dead.

She flees with blood on her hands, but neither guilt nor shame in her heart. Only fury. Only grief.

[selenaevander]

Prompt #23: Pitch

"I can't do this anymore. I can't. I've reached my end of my capacity to tolerate an environment of ruthless vultures..."

A carefully-arranged bouquet of dried fronds and flowers bursts out of its porcelain vase, stuffed tightly with preserved flora in its desaturated state. Dusty jade eucalyptus frames lilac and pale pink florets of baby's breath yearning away from their stems, quivering lightly with fear.

"After what happened to Antony, it really should have been the end of things. I should have called it quits and left this pit of vipers to collapse in on itself, but I was so afraid that my legacy would..."

There's a childish name for the ivory puffs of lagurus ovatus: bunny tails. They seem larger somehow for their worry as they ramble at me in breathless monologue, bristled up like a malcontented cat. This beautiful spray is having a complete meltdown while I listen with the barest interest in its outsized shadow. After all, this is a breakup; it hasn't been announced yet, but I am being relieved of my duties, and at this point it's just the formality of hoping I can still salvage something out of the wreckage when this humiliating fit has passed that is keeping me adhered to my overstuffed seat.

"...and all along, it's as though they were simply waiting for me to let my guard down again to strike! I will not allow myself to succumb to cynicism. All I ever wanted was a life surrounded by beauty and pleasure..."

According to the Blades report, a single gardenia was left on the headless corpse of my rambling companion's now-deceased lover, the absolute personification of milquetoast by the name of Telur Morgan. It was a bloodbath, they say, an entire family zeroed over plates of cold spaghetti by the time authorities arrived—talk about a sauced pasta. But the gruesome remains don't plague me; rather, it's the pristine white of a freshly-cut bloom and its velvet petals and fragrant perfume. The stem would still be crisp, slightly damp at the angled cut, and the last hand to touch it would arrange it just so. It's as real as if I were standing over it now with the echoes of a gunshot ringing at a screaming pitch in my ears. A message, just for me. A message that says—

"Selena."

The oversized vase is plucked from before me, revealing the tear-streaked face of a panicked Monetarist darling draped in a tropical-patterned silk jumpsuit fit for a permanent cruise through the Cieldalaes. She's a vision, even as her dignity unspools with fear, and still I must answer. I know I've been caught absentee.

"I apologize, Alainne. I'm just as shocked as you are," I lie through my pretty teeth. "I'm still coming to terms with the brutality. My mind has wandered."

"Then I'll repeat myeslf: do not contact me again after this. The deal's over. Our business is finished, forever."

[silence-burns]

Losing Head

Fandom: Lucifer (TV show)

Summary: Imagine Lucifer pining over you.

Lucifer took another sip from his handy little flask. Despite how many times the detective told him drinking on the job was a bad idea, Lucifer always had the best ideas precisely while drinking. 

He took another swing. The idea wasn't coming out easily this time.

But it wasn’t the right time to play shy. Lucifer needed an idea how to deal with a little (although pressing) problem of his, and he was starting to run out of excuses to avoid that. 

In his desperation, Lucifer even considered asking for a second opinion, but there was no one around him whose opinion would actually hold practical value. There were technicians surveying the house and two neatly decapitated bodies, but the techs were just as anonymous to him as the headless corpses, so they were of no use. Ella was working with them, flashing one photo after another in a rapid succession, but she was too kind for this world, and too optimistic to truly understand the storm in Lucifer's head. 

He looked around the lovely suburban house. 

Dan was doing what he did best, which was leaving through the door and being left to his own devices, which was probably best for everyone else too. There would be no point in asking him anything either; not when he barely possessed enough wits to take basic care of himself, let alone solve someone else's problems. 

That only left the detective, but she was currently busy asking questions and walking around looking suspicious about everything her eyes landed on. If Lucifer came to her with his problem, there would surely be questions asked—a lot of questions he didn't want answered. Or, at least, not by him. 

Lucifer sighed and upturned his flask until nothing dripped out. It was a marvelous thing, and he rarely ever left the penthouse without it, but even his most trusted partner had limited capacity. 

"Are you sure you're fine?" 

Lucifer did not jump. There was no such thing as startling him, and the slight shake of his hand as he reached to his pocket was completely unrelated to your sudden appearance. 

Lucifer turned to face you, standing next to him with your notes in the hand. "Hello there again, darling."

You just waited, in silent anticipation. You were, unfortunately, one of the people who didn't let their questions slide so easily. 

Lucifer sighed, shifting on his feet. Not nervously, of course. There was no need to be nervous around the very centre of all his recent issues. 

"There's no need for you to worry," he said instead of a more direct answer. "I've been a little tired lately, but I'm sure I'll get better soon." 

Again, not a lie. He was indeed getting less sleep than he used to before his thoughts, in an unexplainable manner, started revolving around you more with every day. There was something in the way you looked at him that made Lucifer tense whenever your eyes met. 

And it made no sense. You were not enemies—quite the opposite, actually. Countless evenings you spent together taking care of Trixie or just chilling in his penthouse made Lucifer painfully aware of how nice of a person you were. Lucifer was also pretty sure there was no magic involved in how quickly the hours you spent together passed, but he'd dwell on that theory later. 

You smiled, patting his arm reassuringly. "Take care of yourself, and please, don't push yourself too hard. And if you ever need to just vent and talk everything off your chest, just give me a call." 

"Thank you," he said, with softness he was not aware he had. 

Lucifer watched as you crossed the room to ask one of the witnesses standing near the patio some questions. 

He was still looking at you when Ella nudged Chloe in the ribs giving her a knowing wink. "Do you think he'll figure it out?" 

Chloe shook her head with a smile, looking at the headless corpses. 

"Lucifer and feelings? Please. Our bet still stands." 

Watching Ella snap one picture after another of deep, jagged wounds with a delighted expression on her face was an interesting experience. 

"If I was being cheesy, I'd say that we might only have two bodies here, but there are three people who lost their heads." 

Chloe closed her eyes. She was getting too old for this. 

[lovelikedestiny]

1. Nile: I will break down the gates of heaven

I'll hold you close,

and share my heat.

In her life, Nile has already heard many terrible things: the news of her father's death, the heartbreaking sobs of her mother, the crying of her brother, fuck, the breaking of her own bones.

Joe's piercing scream as Nicky dies digs into her ear like a hot needle and she knows that she can never forget that sound. He wails as if his beating heart had been torn from his chest while he was alive, an animal sound, broken and shattering, from the depths of his soul.

Final. That word hurts like a merciless lash, and the meaning behind it is even worse. This death is final. 

After the two shots nearly killed Nicky, they had been so eager to protect him and prevent what seemed to be becoming more and more inevitable. It is unbearable that Nile has disappointed her new team, which has already grown dear to her like a second family, now so much.

For a few seconds, which feel like a yawning eternity, in which Nile can hear her own pounding heartbeat, she stands frozen in the brightness of the headlights. She tells herself that the blinding light makes her eyes water. The others are almost swallowed up by the shadows, which feels like they're getting thicker and thicker, and Nile involuntarily takes a step towards the people who gave her a home after her life went downhill. Because suddenly Nile is gripped by the fear of being abandoned. Even though she can see the others, she feels...alone. Incredibly alone and Nile resists the urge to curl up and cry and sob so hard that she can no longer breathe.

I do not want to be alone. I want to see my mom and my brother.

But she is or was a goddamn Marine! She cannot allow the events of tonight to crush her like a boulder. For the sake of her team, Nile has to take charge of the situation and keep going. While Joe screams and pleads in the background, Nicky in his arms, and while Booker and Andy frantically try to secure Quynh, Nile goes to the wreck of their car with wobbly knees.

Bending down reminds her of collecting stones with Nicky and she sniffs breathlessly, her fingers curled around the phone. "Oh fuck, oh fucking shit...”

"Nile? Is that you?” Copley. Copley is still on the phone and heard everything but has no idea what exactly happened. "What's happening? Was that really Quynh? And...is that...is that Joe?”

She doesn't want to answer him, chokes on the lump in her throat and clears her throat several times. Lord in heaven give me strength to get through this.

Quynh comes screeching back from the dead, a fury in human form, and Nile tenses as Quynh starts to fight back, but Booker quickly shoots her in the head.

Tears run down Andy's face, which looks so ancient that Nile almost expects to find dust and cracks in the ancient, porcelain-like skin. Barking, she instructs Booker to get something to tie Quynh up and he stumbles past Joe and Nicky's corpse - oh god - past Nile, grabs a bag and hurries back.

"He's not breathing!" Joe screams, rocking the lifeless Nicky back and forth and Nile has to support herself on the wrecked car, gasping helplessly into the phone. At the other end Copley slowly starts to figure out what happened through Joe's desperate shouts.

"Good lord...” He breathes. "Is Nicky dead? What the hell happened?"

"Q-Quynh,” Nile chokes out, the name burns on her tongue like embers and her body has not forgotten the wounds Quynh inflicted on her earlier. The blood that Quynh let flow in her furious rage - all of their blood - is gradually drying on Nile's skin and she wants to scrape it off, remove the traces of today and stop thinking about it. “Quynh r-rammed us and she killed Kozak and attacked us and then k-killed Nicky. And fuck, Copley, he's...he's dead...” Saying it out loud is even worse because it makes what happened true and the truth has a fucking habit of going right between the ribs like a deadly dagger.

"HE IS NOT BREATHING!" Joe howls and with his hectic, wild look, the tears that run into his beard, the blood-stuck curls and the broken, headless screams, he offers a picture of absolute panic.

No, Nile corrects herself mentally. This is what it looks like when you're devastated.

“Andromache! Sebastien! Help me! Nicky...Nicky isn't breathing! Please! Please...“ Joe stammers, floundering several times as if his tongue were suddenly no longer able to form words properly.

With an ash gray face, Booker looks up from Quynh, whom he is tying up, infinite sorrow in the downward curved corners of his mouth, before he asks Andy with a nod of his head to go to Joe.

This is probably the right decision, because Andy looks more helpless than Nile has ever seen. Andy needs something to focus on instead of thinking about the devastating reunion with Quynh. They're all bloodstained, but Andy is mortal, and Nile makes a mental note of tending to her wounds when they're in safety. Now that Nicky is no longer here, the rational part of Nile's brain whispers, and she mentally beats it several times because she can't stand it.

Andy is visibly reluctant to leave Booker alone with Quynh, who kicks around again, but Joe's whimpering "Andromache" is decisive and Andy crouches down next to him and Nicky. For a split second, her hand hovers over Nicky's body, drowning sadness in her gaze, before she places it on Nicky's, which is tightly gripped by Joe. Nile turns away from Andy and the gentle words with which she tries to talk to Joe, taking a deep breath. She has the feeling as if the blood that has been spilled makes the air heavy, suffocating.

"Nile? Nile, listen to me,” Copley speaks to her, and Nile blinks confused because she has apparently zoned out. “You will now take Quynh's car and drive to the safe house. I'll be waiting for you there and then we'll see. We will find a solution, all right? Everything will be fine, Nile.”

Nothing is going to be fine.

They are both aware that this time it is not a small problem for which a suitable solution can be found quickly. But Copley's calm, matter-of-fact tone helps Nile calm down a little and concentrate only on the next steps and nothing more. Not the loss, which is the undeniable, invisible weight that has begun to lie on them.

Your strength, my sweet girl, Nile's mom used to tell her. Is to keep your head up when the crown is too heavy for everyone else.

"I understand," Nile replies in a much firmer voice. "Where's the safe house?" Now that Quynh has found them, further secrecy is pointless.

"I'll give you the address."

After hanging up, Nile braces herself as best as she can before turning to the tragic scene that's taking place on this remote country road. There is a large blood stain on the hoodie that Joe gave Nicky as a gift and colors the words Look Irresistible in a grotesque red.

Nicky's sweet smile when he told her the hoodie was given to him by Joe two years ago tugs at her control over herself. The thought that the ...and I am taken on the back of Nicky's hoodie is now being cruelly fulfilled because death got Nicky into his pale hands, making Nile breathless.

Keep going. You have to keep going!

Continue reading on AO3 ;)