#the way she was terrorized when the people who would kill For Her was gone.....

[mcytegg]

something abt ros seems to make people feel violent. like. all of her relationships can be summed up as people who want to kill her, or people who would kill for her and it is always one of the two, never in between w all of her most notable relationships

[thehighladywrites]

you’re just like me

pairing: cassian x crazy stalker reader

summary: cassian thinks of you as his insanely obsessive ex girlfriend who’s downright crazy. you are obviously cassian’s one true love and will eliminate anything that stands in your way.

warnings: murder, dark romance, cheeky little twist👀, stalking, obsessive behavior, sexual content, knives, nasty sex, um also a sick way of getting off just downright crazy, description of murder… um this is just kinda dark. two psychos encouraging each other

amara’s note: so i might be making this into a series bc i have an amazing idea for azriel next😫😫😫 also guys this was a lil dark lol

You couldn’t understand how Cassian had the nerve to walk away from you. There was absolutely nothing wrong with you, not one single thing. People just didn’t get it; love was supposed to be all-consuming, right? Obsession wasn’t a flaw. It was just proof you cared deeply. So what if you knew his schedule down to the minute, memorized the exact scent of his shampoo, or followed him everywhere he went like your very existence depended on it? That wasn’t weird, it was love. Real, burning, raw love.

Cassian must have been confused, that’s all. Poor thing, probably led astray by some outside influence. Maybe someone whispered lies into his ear or cast some strange spell over his mind. Yeah, that had to be it, because Cassian did love you. He did. He just needed to wake up and realize it again.

And when he did , he’d thank you for never letting go, for being the one person who truly saw him, who loved him without limits.

Seeing Cassian sitting next to some water-wraith makes your heart pound harder and harder, fury bubbling under your skin. That’s it — that’s why he hasn’t been his usual self. That wretched wraith is manipulating him, filling his head with filthy lies about you. Poisoning what was meant to be perfect.

You have to stop this. You have to save him. And the only way to do that is to get rid of her. Permanently.

Your hands itch for action, and you’re already stepping forward when a hand clamps around your wrist.

“Are you about to go over to Cassian?” Feyre’s calm voice cuts through your haze of rage. “Don’t cause a scene.”

You tilt your head, offering her a polite smile. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m simply going to claim what is rightfully mine.”

You tug at her grip, but it holds firm. Feyre’s eyes narrow. “Not so fast. You know Cassian will think you’re crazy if you kill her right here and now.”

Your breath catches. How the hell did she know? Were you that obvious?

Before you can respond, she steps closer, her intoxicating perfume filling your senses. Her voice, low and smooth, sends shivers down your spine.

“If you want that little whore gone, gut her like a fucking fish. I’ll even help you. But not now, it’ll look bad for us.”

Your eyes widen slightly. Never in a million years would you have expected Feyre to suggest murder.

“Why are you so interested in me killing her?” you ask, voice curious.

A wicked smile curls at her lips before she presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “That little bitch tried to fuck Rhys right in front of me. Didn’t even bother pretending she didn’t know who I was. She didn’t care. And now I want her gone.”

Her voice cracks with a manic edge before she smooths it over, composure snapping neatly back into place.

She was just like you, a comfort you took pleasure in, someone who understood that love was meant to be fierce, consuming, and without limits.

—

You did exactly what Feyre suggested — waited until the big meeting with all the courts had ended, biding your time until the wraith was on her way back to Spring. She was alone, vulnerable, just as you had hoped.

Before she could winnow away, you struck. Kidnapping her had been easy, far too easy. And then came the best part: stabbing her over and over until you were drenched in her warm blood. Her look of terror sent a sick thrill down your spine, flipping your stomach in delight. Fuck, it felt good to finally get rid of her. Like being on edge for an eternity and finally getting the sweet, blissful relief you'd craved.

You cleaned up meticulously, disposing of every shred of evidence. No one would ever find her.

Winnowing back to Velaris, you appeared just outside Cassian’s house, dagger still in hand. Breaking in through your usual route was second nature by now. You settled yourself on his sofa, waiting patiently like you always did when he needed a gentle reminder of who truly belonged to him.

The door creaked open, and Cassian trudged inside, shoulders sagging with exhaustion. Normally, you'd feel a pang of sympathy for how hard he worked — how much he gave of himself. But not tonight. Tonight, you were kinda pissed.

His eyes flicked toward you, squinting in the dim light. He hesitated, unsure of who he was looking at until he flipped the lights on.

The color drained from his face as he stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock. “What the hell?” His voice wavered. “What are you doing here?”

You tilted your head, offering a sweet, unwavering smile. “Hi, Cassian. Done being a manwhore? Ready to come back to your senses?”

His gaze darted to the blood soaking your clothes, the gleaming dagger in your hand. He shook his head in disbelief, taking another step back, as if distance could protect him from you.

“I said, what are you doing here?” His voice hardens, sharp and commanding.

Yours matches his, cold and steady. “Well, since you seem to be under some delusion that you can get away from me, I figured I’d burst your little bubble and remind you that’s not the case.”

A calm smile spreads across your lips as you lift the dagger, pointing it directly at him. The weight of it feels right in your hand, steady and sure.

Cassian’s chest rises and falls as tension coils through the room. “You’re insane,” he mutters, disbelief lacing every word.

“Call it what you want. Call it love, call it obsession. Call me fucking insane,” you say, taking a slow step forward. “But you belong to me, Cassian. Always have. Always will.”

You shake your head and laugh, a hollow, unsettling sound. “Gods, Cassian. I don't know why you're doing this to me. Stop being so damn difficult and realize there's no one else for you. That water-wraith slut sure knows it now.”

His face goes pale, a hand pressing against his chest. “W-what are you talking about? You... you killed her?” he asks, horrified.

“Sure did.” You smile sweetly, tilting your head. “And I'll end anyone you think can take my place. Am I clear? Either you realize it now, or I keep killing people. It's all up to you.” You shrug nonchalantly, inspecting your nails as if this conversation were about the weather.

There's a long silence, thick with tension, and then something changes.

His voice drops, lower and rougher. “Took you long enough.”

Your head snaps up, eyes narrowing in confusion. His pale, horrified expression has melted away, replaced by something darker, more primal. His eyes gleam with something unholy, and his mouth twists into a cruel, wicked smile.

“Was wondering when you’d kill that little wraith,” he says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. “Gods know it was hard feigning interest.”

A warmth spreads through your chest, almost dizzying. Was this a dream? No way. Cassian matching your intensity, your madness — that was only supposed to happen in fantasies.

“What?” you whisper, barely believing what you’re hearing.

He steps closer, eyes gleaming darkly. “Didn’t think I noticed your stalking? Or the way you conveniently disposed of anyone I talked to?” His smirk widens, sharp and dangerous. “The way you just happened to show up at places I had scheduled? I’ve been onto you since day one.”

Your breath catches, heart thundering. “And?”

“And I knew you were the one the day you snuck into my room and stared at me, thinking I didn’t know,” he murmurs, eyes burning into yours with dark satisfaction.

A shiver runs down your spine, both thrilled and unhinged by his words. “You knew?”

He leans in closer, voice low and possessive. “Of course I knew. Your heavy breathing was a dead giveaway, sweetheart. You looked like you were seconds away from crawling into bed with me.”

You grin, eyes gleaming with madness. “I almost did.”

And it was true. He had been shirtless, skin smooth and golden in the moonlight, hair tied back so his sharp, handsome features were perfectly highlighted. Only years of discipline had kept you rooted to the spot instead of crawling into bed with him like you’d wanted to.

His smile deepens, dark and taunting. “You should’ve.” He steps closer, voice dropping to a low, sinful whisper. “Not the Gods themselves could have pulled me away.”

Your pulse races, wild and electric. This was so not fucking happening. “Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not tempting you, my love.” he says, eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “I’m inviting you.”

He looks down at you, hands settling on your hips as he pulls you so close. Cassian’s heat makes your brain go fuzzy and for a moment you’re lost. Just as he is about to kiss you…

”Wait. So you felt the same I did? Why did you act all high and mighty when you’re literally worse than me?” You step back and raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed over your chest.

Cassian blinks, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst, but instead of guilt or surprise softening his expression, something darker gleams in his eyes — intrigue, even delight. “You’re mad at me, baby?”

“Of course I’m mad!” you snap, practically vibrating with frustration. “You knew I’m bsessed with you, and instead of saying anything, you just sat there, playing with me, making me feel insane.”

Your grip on the dagger tightens in pure frustration. “Do you know how many nights I spent plotting ways to keep you? How much blood I spilled thinking you didn’t care?”

His lips twitch, eyes filled with dark amusement.

“You could’ve just matched my crazy from day one, but nooo, you had to be all stoic and mysterious. Gods, Cassian, that’s infuriating.”

He steps closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re adorable when you’re pissed off, ya know? A cute, hotheaded little thing.”

“Adorable? I should stab you,” you snarl, but he only grins wider.

“Do it,” he whispers, his voice dripping with challenge. “I’d love to see what happens next.”

Your breath catches, heart racing as his words sink in. Cassian wasn’t just tolerating your madness, he wanted it, thrived on it, matched it beat for beat.

The realization sends a dizzy thrill through you, but you pout anyway, refusing to let him off the hook that easily. “You’re the worst,” you grumble, turning your head away with a dramatic huff.

He chuckles darkly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “I was only interesed in seeing how far you’d go. Didn’t know if you’d run for the hills when I told you I murdered Helion’s advicer for looking at you yesterday.”

Your heart skips a beat, then thunders wildly in your chest. A sharp, wicked grin tugs at your lips despite yourself. “You did that?”

“Snapped his neck right before breakfast. Or did I feed him his own fingers then strangle him with his insides? Can’t say I remember.”

A sick thrill courses through you. Man, he was fucking perfect. It was so fucking wrong but your knees went weak and you started throbbing. He killed someone just for staring at you?

That was actually hot.

—

With no surprise, cassian fucked you for so long, so hard so fucking deep. It was so nasty, a reaaaal mess. one hand of his grabs onto your thigh, another gripping your waist while he’s glancing down at your sloppy cunt, what a masterpiece. Cassian decided he needed to see better so he pulled out as you whimpered pathetically.

his fingers smear his oozing cum all over you, from the slit all the way to your, swollen, throbbing clit.

“look at you makin’ a damn mess.” Your shaky hands gripping his wide shoulders start to slip. His arm tightens around your waist before you fall backwards. “fuckkkk, baby, look at how good your pussy was takin’ me, see how fucking wet she is?” you shudder as his fingers go knuckle deep into your cunt, giving you a few pumps before he pulls it right out, stringy wetness coating them.

he places two thick fingers inside of your mouth, you suck them clean whilst still moving against him, silently pleading for him to fill you out.

“shiiit, not fair. you got these killer hips that’ll dumb down any man.” Cassian finally fills you up again, his fat cock gliding against ypur wall just right. “oh-fuckkkk thaaat’s it, slow baby. slow, fuck me good, yeah?”

Cassian’s breath hitches as you tighten around him, his arm hurling behind the headboard. the desperation of having something to hold on to gives you an ego boost. was your just pussy too damn good?

“c-cas,” you moan, feeling his big fingers stroke their way against your waist to the very undersides of your thighs. you made sure to go slow, slow and steady just like he wanted. cassian’s got a sleazy grin, feeling the wetness of your cunt take him with all its might. “g-gonna cum!”

“i can tell, ah shit— you’re squeezin’ the fuck outta me,” He grunts in response as he feels you writhing, groaning at the gummy texture of your walls mightily gripping around him tight.

But it’s not enough. The rush lingers, addictive and gnawing, and you want more — need more. Something to cling to, something to burn into your memory for the rest of the week. A painfully sweet reminder of just how far you’ll both go for each other.

Your lips curl into a sly smile, voice dropping into a breathy tease. Finally, you’d lock in one last time to see if he was really as crazy as you. “Do you want to know,” You pause, your breath hitching in pleasure, ��how it felt to kill t-that wraith?”

Cassian’s entire body tenses, his pupils dilating as a spark of something wild flickers in his eyes. His pulse kicks up, thrumming like a war drum. Fuck yeah, he wanted to know. Every sickening, twisted detail. Morality be damned—this was love.

“Tell me,” he demands, voice low and raw, filled with a dark hunger.

You grin wickedly, savoring his reaction. “It was beautiful,” you whimper, letting the memory flood your senses. “The way her breath hitched when she realized she was going to die? Gods, Cassian, it was intoxicating. She looked so helpless.”

His breath shudders as he pumps harder, his voice gravelly. “What did you feel?”

A dark satisfaction blooms in your chest. “Relief,” you murmur. “Pure relief. Like I’d been waiting forever and I was free.”

Cassian’s eyes burn into yours, his lips curling into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re perfect,” he whispers. “Absolutely perfect. Absolutely mine.”

Your heart races as you lean in, lips hovering near his ear. “Next time,” you purr, “I’ll let you watch then fuck me right there.”

That’s it. Those few sadistic words are all the power he needs to finish you both off.

“you’re a nasty fucking girl—ughhhh.”

his speed had the bed creaking louder, and cassian’s grunting in your ear was getting louder as you were feeling fuller than ever. with hot pounds of skin against skin roughly slapping against each other after each second, the two of you felt the same pangs of pleasure and fervent dizziness. “inside, cas—fuck, cum inside me!” before an inevitable flood of heavenly pleasure consumes you both.

your cunt throbs the second he spills an entire whopping load inside of you raw, and you nuzzle your face into his neck. “cas—,” you stammer, and your walls were oh so greedy, adjusting to the way your pussy convulses around him, sharp nails dragging over his back. you both cum together as a surge of electricity pulses through each of your veins.

“fuck… ya better take every drop, s-shit,” he groans before slumping back against the headboard, tugging you closer so your face rests on his neck.

This was absolutely perfect. Cassian was yours now—forever. He could never leave you. And if he tried? You wouldn’t just kill him; you’d burn the entire world down with him. If you couldn’t have him, no one could. He simply wouldn’t exist without you.

That was love.

And Cassian being utterly, unapologetically insane? A gift wrapped in chaos. He understood you better than anyone ever could. Maybe you’d push him, see just how far that darkness in him stretched. Because Cassian didn’t get jealous—he got even. He got murderous.

“I love you, Cassian. So, so much,” you sob into his neck, your body trembling under the weight of the confession.

“I know you do,” he rasps, his voice rough as he grabs a blanket, wrapping it around your shivering form. His strong arms envelop you completely, his touch obsessive, possessive. His hand trails down your hair and back with agonizing tenderness as though memorizing every inch of you.

But something gnaws at you—a flicker of unease. Why wasn’t he saying it back? Did he need more proof that you were his literal wife(even if he didn’t know it yet), his reason for fucking breathing?

As if sensing your doubt, his grip tightens, pulling you even closer until you could hear the rapid, frantic beat of his heart. His lips brush against your ear, his voice low and raw, trembling with emotion.

“There are no words for what I feel for you,” he says, voice breaking. “Love is too weak, too pitiful. What I feel for you—gods, it devours me whole. It’s a sickness, an obsession that digs its claws into me and never lets go. You are everything. My breath, my blood, my madness.”

His words crash over you, wild and terrifying and utterly beautiful. And you know—he belongs to you as much as you belong to him.

Always.

[gigiszn]

A NORMAL TUESDAY — gwinam x fem!reader.

 ۫ ꣑ৎ ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! don't get pissy if this is too much for u, this is a smut and youve been warned. please let me know if you want more stuff like this tho! i actually enjoyed stepping out of my comfort zone with this one, since i've never really written smut before. don't shame me for my first time writing lol

tw: language, abuse, smut (+18) mdni, sub!reader, dom!gwinam, choking, degradation, breeding, spanking, carving into skin, p in v, dacryphilia, fingering.

wc: 2.2k

 ۫ ꣑ৎ ｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ

Jieun’s tendency to stay to herself had always been both a refuge and a burden. Tonight felt like any other—routine, familiar. She returned home, took a shower, and possibly sobbed for minutes, hours—Who wouldn't after the constant terrorization? Then again, who would have guessed that tonight would be different?

Her father, as usual, waved her off with a dismissive hand, demanding her to run to the local store for groceries and beer. With a quiet sigh, Jieun left the house, her steps heavy with frustration. The night air was colder than she expected, but eventually, her pace slowed into something more habitual, like she was walking to escape her thoughts.

The streets were unnervingly quiet, the usual hum of the city absent. It was just another Tuesday evening, most people tucked away at home, spending time with their families. Jieun walked past the dim, neon-lit storefronts, their harsh glow flickering in the shadows of the empty street.

She turned into a familiar alley—a shortcut she had taken countless times before. It wasn’t the most well-lit route, but she knew it like the back of her hand. Even at this hour, it was no different than any other night.

Then came the voice.

"You're never going to get it right, are you?" The words pierced the silence, unexpected and sharp. Jieun froze, her pulse quickening as she turned toward it. The tension in the air thickened, but she hesitated, unsure whether to leave or investigate.

"I swear, you keep your grades up, and I'll kill you for good," the voice continued. There was frustration in it, but no immediate anger, just disappointment—a feeling Jieun was all too familiar with.

Her curiosity gnawed at her. She should have walked away, gotten the groceries, and gone home. But something kept her rooted in place, as if some invisible force was pulling her deeper into the alley.

When she finally dared to peek around the corner, the scene before her was strangely surreal. A man, his posture slouched from his clear state of drunkenness, was standing before a boy she recognized all too well—Gwinam.

She hadn’t expected to find him here. His head was bowed, eyes fixed on the ground, his body language closed off. There was something so painfully familiar about his stance, the same way she had often stood in front of that very same boy, shoulders weighed down by the weight of his words. The similarity was striking, almost eerie. It was as if Gwinam, too, was carrying a weight he hadn’t asked for.

Jieun felt her heart tighten. She had seen this look before—the kind of resigned sadness that came when you felt like you weren’t ever going to meet anyone's expectations. The kind of sadness that settled in your chest and never quite let you breathe right.

She almost felt guilty. Almost. But, her mind's screaming finally got her attention. Jieun furrowed her brow to herself. What the hell was she thinking?

Pity? For the same boy who'd thrown her against dozens of walls, gripping her neck so tightly he'd left deep bruises? It all replayed in her mind as her senses began to work properly.

His father had left with a final shove, Gwinam's back hitting the hard brick surface behind him. Jieun took this as her cue to leave, spinning on her heel and taking careful strides away.

Clank!

Of course.

Instantly, she froze. Her body was as stiff as a board, foot frozen mid-air as her ears strained. They waited to hear a reaction, a sound, anything. The silence was deafening, and though she should've been happy, the eeriness crept up her spine like a black widow.

A sudden force knocked her down, hard. With a groan, she stood up slowly and rubbed the back of her skull, squinting her eyes.

There he stood, tall and undermining. His height towered over her frame, her eyes fearing and aghast. His slender hand reached up, though it held no remorse.

"Always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, huh?" He muttered as he pushed her against the alley wall, a growing pain echoing on the back of her head.

His free hand reached up, pressing harshly on the back of her skull, a whine emitting from Jieun's throat. He smirked, pulling back his two fingers, now covered in her crimson blood.

"Look what you made me do," he spat, his grip tightening around her neck like a noose, each word dripping with venom. Jieun's frantic attempts to kick and slap felt laughable; her body was a marionette caught in a twisted game.

With a brutal shove, he tossed her against the unforgiving wall, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. The world around them blurred into chaos as her mind raced; freedom was a distant dream now. "Please, Gwinam. I-I swear I didn’t see anything! Just let me go!" Jieun's voice wavered, desperation lacing her plea.

Tears spilled down her cheeks, glistening like diamonds in the harsh light of the streetlamp. He let out a low growl, his head tilting back as he closed the distance between them, an aura of menace radiating from him. Her desperate gaze met his, eyes wide and pleading, but beneath the surface, they held a flicker of arousal; through all her defiance and struggle, she couldn't deny the wetness pooling in her underwear. Jieun had to force her thighs not to clench, the evil smirk on his face hazing her senses even more. His hands reached upward, ruthlessly groping her breasts. He ripped her shirt open, a primal urge flaring in his core at the sight of her breasts bouncing out of her dangerously tight top.

She wanted to fight him, truly. But something inside of her felt so desperate for the attention she'd finally been receiving that it held back her sensibility.

"Girls that misbehave deserve punishment, right, Mouse?" He asked, the cruel teasing tone lingering in the air. Her head shook, hands trembling at the undeniable fear and horniness shooting through her mind and straight down to her throbbing cunt.

"Open." He demanded, raising his index and middle finger upward, covered in her blood. Jieun's hesitation brought a sense of fury in him, gripping her jaw and forcing it open. She gagged as his fingers reached the back of her throat, her own taste of metallic blood pouring down.

His fingers were coated in her saliva, creating a bridge between them. Aggresively, Gwinam pulled her skirt up, manhandling her. She attempted to close her legs, though this only angered the rage-fueled boy further.

He finally managed to get her legs open, using his knee to keep them apart. A whine left Jieun's throat at the sudden pressure between her legs. "You're such a fucking whore," He spat, "Don't act like you don't want this when I can feel your drenched panties."

Roughly shoving her underwear to the side, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he felt her slick coating his already dampened fingers. His left hand now gripping her hair, yanking her head backwards as he began thrusting his fingers upward.

She felt as though she was at her peak already. His fingers scissored repeatedly in her tight pussy, throbbing around his long fingers. Gwinam's fingertips reached her mushy clump of cells, Jieun's eyes widening. Her mouth parted, but no sound dared to come out at the hold he had on her neck. She was so close, just there. And as her eyes shut and thighs clenched, he pulled out just as quick as her climax brinked.

Her eyes shot open as he roughly pressed his lips to hers without giving her a second to think. There was nothing romantic about their kiss. It was purely a way to shut her up and take his frustrations out on something other than the poorly-rehearsed porn he'd been watching.

Their mouths parted with a bridge of saliva between them. Gwinam reached into his pocket, Jieun's senses immediately rushing back to her as the shiny blade was slowly pulled from his pocket. She began to struggle again, but stopped just as quick as he placed the blade ever so closely to her neck.

Her neck was strained, eyes half-open as she tried desperately to pull herself away from the sharp knife. "You scream and I'll cut you apart like the worthless plaything you are." His lips were on her ear, voice barely above a whisper as his hot breath fanned against her.

He brought the knife down, giving Jieun a small sense of relief. Suddenly, her eyes widened as an aching sting formed on her thigh. A choked sob escaped her lips, her hand immediately shooting upwards.

She knew better than to scream after his threat. Gwinam was a lot of things, but he was never one to back down on his word.

Her eyes were filled with tears, a drop landing on the 'G' he was now carving into her leg, blood dripping with the salty-water.

"Take that as a warning," Gwinam smirked, gripping her jaw with one hand. "Each time you scream I'll add another letter to that pretty little thigh of yours."

He began roughly unbuckling his belt, finally pulling his pants and boxers down low enough for his cock to hang free from it's restraints. He lifted her wounded thigh upwards, the burn causing her to hiss.

She felt him rub his tip around her wetness, every touch heightened. She could feel every twitch, every vein, and could hear every soft huff he let out. Finally, he pushed his hips upwards, Jieun's hands finding their way to his shoulders.

Every sane part of her screamed at her to scream, but the rest of her couldn't give her a valid reaction as it was too busy being fucked away.

Their pants and groans were the only things heard in the quiet night, any passerbyers surely able to deduct the unholy actions taking place 10 feet away.

His tip was deep enough inside her she could practically feel it in her stomach. Gwinam groaned as her tight clit throbbed around him, his head resting against the wall behind her.

The taller boy quickly spun her around, shoving her face harshly against the jagged brick. His hand pinned hers behind her back, pulling her ass up in the air. He slid in easily once more, never giving her a chance to adjust as he resumed his ungodly pace and abuse against her aching hole.

Smack!

Jieun let out a sharp gasp and a scream as his hand landed an aggressive hit to her ass. A pink handprint now engraved into the plush surface, Gwinam's movements abruptly stopped.

Her breath hitched in her throat, realizing what she had just done.

"No, no. P-Please," She begged as he spun her around, "I-I'm sorry. I'll be good, I swear." His mouth opened in a groan at her cries, his lips curling into a wider smile than she'd ever seen.

He was getting off on her suffering, and her pleas of mercy only made him closer to cumming all over her clothes.

The blade shimmered as the cool metal dragged around her thigh teasingly. He violently yanked her pale leg upward, pressing the knife into her skin and carving a 'W'.

"We could keep going until I carve my entire name, or you could be a good slut and take my dick," He demanded, lips brushing against hers, "Got it, mouse?" Her eyes squeezed shut, lip trembling as she quickly nodded her head.

Gwinam turned her around once more, gripping her abused cheeks and burying himself in her. His hips were flush against hers, the wet noises and slaps echoing across the acoustic alleyway. The fresh wound dripped blood with every fast thrust, right leg now coated with the ruby liquid.

He continued slapping her ass, adding to the arousal she deeply wanted to rid of. Their parts seemed to mold into each other, the sounds a cacophony of every frustration and desire he wanted to take out on her pretty little body since the day he met her.

"I'm not gonna last—f-fuck." He groaned, hips stuttering as his pounding became sloppier, rhythm breaking. Her forehead was pressed against the wall, mouth open as droplets of drool dripped onto the cement underneath.

"I'm gonna cum inside you, and you're gonna walk around with me inside you all week." He ordered, her fists balling as she bent over and took his relentless thrusts.

He bent over on top of her, his chest pressed to her back. He reached his hand underneath her, rubbing harsh circles around her clit. Her eyes became saucer-like as a broken moan sounded in the air, her orgasm shooting through her and around his dick.

His release followed soon after as he rode them through their climaxes. Gwinam's hips slowly stopped their motions, his now soft dick pulling out of her.

Wordlessly, he pulled his pants back up as Jieun slid to the floor, legs wide open as his cum shamelessly spilled out of her. He smirked at the sight, spitting at the floor next to her and walking off, sure to ruthlessly shame her for it the next day.

So much for a normal Tuesday.

[daryltwdixon]

Summary: The city holds more danger than you were expecting, and survival is all that matters. Ellie proves herself in ways you didn’t expect, and Joel’s past surfaces in quiet moments. Every step forward comes with questions you’re not sure you want answered.

notes: there's a little something in here for my daryl girls if you remember hehe

warnings: canon violence

When the last of the gunfire finally dies down, it leaves an eerie silence that feels almost deafening. The smell of gunpowder burns your nose, and the iron tang of blood clings to the air, thick and metallic. You try to steady your breathing, but your chest feels tight, your heart racing in the aftermath of everything that just happened.

You can’t stop your hands from shaking as you reach for your backpack when Joel tosses it to you. The weight of it feels wrong in your hands, somehow. It’s not the weight of supplies or survival anymore. It’s the weight of what you’ve just done.

You’ve never killed anyone before Joel showed up. Never had to. Not in Lincoln. Not with the kind of life you lived, sheltered away from the rest of the world. Bill and Frank kept things quiet, kept things safe, and when they were gone, you were left in a town that had little interaction with the outside world. You’d always known it was dangerous out there, but you didn’t know this kind of danger. You didn’t know what it felt like to point a gun at someone and pull the trigger.

The thought of how many lives you’ve taken in the past few days presses on your chest. You shove it down, focus on breathing, focus on the here and now. It doesn’t matter. It’s too late to turn back, and if you want to survive, you’ll have to keep moving forward. Was this what life has come to now? Taking lives so they don't take yours? You aren’t sure where you belonged in this part of your future.

When you collect yourself, your breath still shaky from the chaos, you look up at Joel, expecting some sort of instruction, some sign of what comes next. But instead, his gun suddenly swings up, pointing directly at you.

For a split second, your blood runs cold. His eyes are locked on you, his weapon raised. You’re frozen, confusion and panic blurring your thoughts. 

As the gears in your mind clang into place that his gun isn’t pointed at you but behind you, a pair of arms wraps around you from behind. Cold, hard steel presses against your temple.

You gasp, trying to pull away, but it’s no use. You hear the man’s breath hot and heavy against your ear, feel his body pressed up against yours, and the moment his voice growls in your ear, your blood runs cold.

“Put down the gun, or I blow her brains out.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck . You stare wildly ahead at Joel, a pit in your stomach forming. 

Joel barely knows you, barely owes you anything. Sure, he had been someone your dad relied on for trade, for supplies when needed, but that’s all it was. For trade, for business. Besides, he already saved your life once getting you out of your home, and now? What would he do when faced with another enemy, when you could easily be sacrificed for the sake of a job he had to finish with Ellie?

Ellie .

Your eyes dart to the broken wall to your left, where you see a pair of green eyes peering out of the dark. A chill runs down your spine. Could she see everything? Was she scared too?

Your eyes dart back to Joel as he begins to lower his gun. For a split second, everything seems to hang in the balance. You hold your breath, your pulse pounding in your ears. You’d just gotten used to the idea that you were nothing more than collateral damage. A means to an end. You never really thought Joel would see you as anything more. He didn’t owe you anything. Hell, he didn’t even know you, not the way he knew Tess or the other people from his past. So why was he choosing to lower his gun? His eyes are still full of danger, but there’s a flicker of terror, of desperation as he almost looks like he tries to subdue the man who has you in his grip. And for some reason, it hits you harder than you expect. Joel Miller wasn’t going to leave you to die at the hands of this man. He wasn’t going to let you be a pawn in this fucked-up showdown.

“Nice and slow, asshole,” the man says hotly in your ear.

Then suddenly, a gunshot rings out, loud and sharp, and you freeze in place. Your body tenses as the sound slices through the air, a moment of sheer terror that steals the breath from your lungs.

The world slows. Time feels like it stretches. Your heart’s pounding so loudly you can barely hear anything else. Is this it?

You brace for impact. It doesn’t seem real, but your body prepares anyway. A flash of panic rises—what if this was how it ended for you? You’d never made it out of the small bubble you’d known your whole life. All the things you hadn’t done, the life you hadn’t lived, would end with this stupid fight.

But then... nothing.

Instead, the man behind you lets out a guttural cry, and your heart stops in your chest as his body crumples to the ground, his momentum taking him down with a sickening thud. The air rushes back into your lungs, though it’s still shaky, your chest tight. Relief floods your chest for just a second before dread hits you like a freight train. You turn around, your body still tense, trying to understand what just happened. The man who had you in his grip—he’s crumpled on the ground now, clutching his side, blood pouring from the wound.

And there, crawling out of the hole in the wall, is Ellie, gun still in hand, her eyes wide in shock and terror.

Joel’s gaze locks onto hers with something dangerous in it. His jaw clenches. You watch, your heart still pounding, as he holds out his hand, a silent command.

Ellie, without hesitation, places the small handgun in his palm. Your stomach churns as you realize this might’ve been the first time she’s ever shot a gun, ever taken a man down.

The man on the ground, gasping, bleeding out, starts babbling in a way that almost sounds like a prayer. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean it… Please…” His voice cracks with desperation.

Your eyes follow his hand as it reaches out, fingers trembling, blood smearing against the ground. His words tumble out faster now, frantic, pleading. “We can trade. I have people. We can help each other. Just let me live, please.”

Joel steps forward, standing tall over him, and for a moment, you feel like you’re seeing a new side to him—a side you weren’t ready to witness. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something cold, something ruthless in his eyes. A darkness you’ve never seen in him before. It’s like watching a different man, a man hardened by years of survival, where mercy no longer has a place. 

“No, no, hey, I’m serious!” the man stammers, reaching for something at his waist. For a split second, your heart skips a beat. You think he’s pulling a weapon on you in a last ditch effort, but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops the knife from its sheath to the dirty pavement, the metallic clang of it hitting the ground resounding in your ears.

“It’s a good knife. Please, just let me see my mom. Can you get her for me?”

Joel’s voice cuts through the tension, softer now, almost measured without turning away from the stranger. “Ellie, get back behind the wall.”

You glance at Ellie. Her eyes are still wide, frozen in place for just a beat longer than she should be. And then Joel’s gaze locks onto yours beside him.

“Go on,” he says, and his voice is almost gentle, laced with exhaustion. It’s different from how he usually is—more than just a command. There's something more there, something you didn’t expect.

You nod, and as you turn on your heel towards Ellie, the man on the ground begins to plead even louder, “Please! Please, don’t kill me! I’ll do anything! I’ll make it right! HELP !”

The sound of his voice, the desperation in it, claws at something deep inside you. You try to block it out as you force yourself to focus on Ellie, grabbing her shoulder and guiding her toward the hole in the wall. The panic is palpable, rising in your throat like bile. The fact that you’re even still here, not the one bleeding out on the floor, feels like a fluke. But it doesn’t matter now. All you know is to obey Joel, to get away as quickly as you can.

Your hands find Ellie’s shoulders when you turn away, pushing her through the hole in the wall, the space tight, too tight. When you finally make it to the other side, your eyes scan the ransacked room. Furniture scattered. Items overturned. Newspapers lining the windows, letting only little streams of light through that spotlight on the cracked tile. The remnants of a life you’ll never understand. But none of that matters. You press against the wall, your breath shallow, hands instinctively covering your ears. You glance at Ellie, and she mirrors you, small hands pressed over her own. Then the thud of a knife echoes along the walls—too close, too real—and both of you flinch in unison. Even though you yourself had just taken lives, there was something about hearing a man beg for mercy, pleading for his life, and having to live with the weight of the decision being made on his fate. 

“Ellie,” you hear Joel call from the other side, “I gotta get in there. I can’t fit through.”

You push yourself off the wall, exhaling sharply in the silence, eyes scanning the area. Ellie’s already moving, her gaze fixed on something. She hesitates for a second, then her eyes latch onto a cart blocking the door. She looks at you, wordlessly asking for help.

You give a quick nod, and walk over to her. You grab onto the handles with all your strength, pulling with everything you’ve got. Your muscles strain with the effort as the cart moves slowly, inching away from the door. Behind you, you hear Joel’s body slamming against the door as he tries to move it along from the other side.

Finally, the cart moves enough for Joel to slip through. He’s through quickly, and as soon as he is, you let go of the cart, and he slams the door shut behind him, securing it. You and Ellie both push against the cart together, getting it back in place against the side door with one final heave.

You watch as Joel catches his breath, handing your backpack back to you, his gaze flickering to Ellie with something unreadable in his eyes.

“I’m fine! I’m okay!” Ellie says quickly, her voice high and rushed, betraying her nerves.

Joel sighs, his tone sharp. “Why didn’t you just stay put like I told you to?”

Ellie’s breaths come in fast gasps now, eyes wide as she looks at him. “Well, you’re glad I didn’t, right?”

Joel pulls the small handgun Ellie had handed him earlier from his waistband, his expression hardening. “I’m glad neither of us got shot by a goddamn kid.”

“What?” she says, her voice rising in disbelief as she glares at him, “No. You know what? How about a ‘thanks Ellie, I know it wasn’t easy, but it was either him or her, and you saved her, saved us !’”

She turns to you, her eyes pleading for you to back her up. You just stay quiet, watching as Joel crouches to rummage through his pack, unaffected.

“We gotta get going,” Joel mutters, his voice devoid of any warmth.

Ellie turns to you now, her eyes softening as she whispers your name, as if silently pleading for you to intervene.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to nod in her direction. “Thanks,” you say quietly, the words feeling too small for everything that just happened.

She scoffs, disbelief clear on her face. It’s not that you’re ungrateful—hell, you aren’t even sure what would’ve happened if she hadn’t stepped in. But the thought of a little girl having to save your ass? It doesn’t sit right.

It’s not that you don’t appreciate her actions; you do. But the weight of it hits you— you didn’t hear someone sneaking up behind you —and it sinks like a lead weight in your stomach. The thought of making a kid feel like she had to step up for you, like she had to be the one to take action because you and Joel were out of commission... that thought gnaws at you. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. 

“Alright,” Joel says as he flattens the newspaper against the window again and turns to the both of you, “We go up, get a better look, find a clear way to get the hell outta here.”

You all step out into the alley behind the building, the faint smell of mildew and rust hanging in the air. Broken glass crunches softly beneath your boots despite your careful steps. You duck behind a rusted-out car, its paint long since peeled away by time and weather. God, you felt so vulnerable out here, like a mouse darting across an open field while hawks circled above. Every sound felt louder than it was—the scuff of a shoe, the faint hum of a distant engine.

Joel peers around the corner, his body tense, every muscle primed. You can see the way his jaw ticks as he listens, eyes darting toward the intersection ahead. The distant rumble of vehicles grows louder, the sound of tires on cracked pavement filling the space around you. You hold your breath as shadows flicker across the buildings. One car, then another, passes by. The growl of their engines fades into the distance, and only then do you dare to release the air from your lungs.

Joel gestures sharply, a quick wave of his hand. You follow as he leads the way, weaving between abandoned cars and debris littering the street. You try to keep low, your heart pounding in your ears as you dart across the open space. The asphalt beneath your feet feels impossibly exposed. You move faster than you should, but the weight of unseen eyes burns at your back.

Reaching the relative cover of another building, Joel yanks the door open, ushering you and Ellie inside. The silence that greets you is heavy, broken only by your labored breaths. The air is stale, the faint smell of rot lingering as you ascend the narrow stairwell. Every creak of the old steps sends a spike of anxiety up your spine. It feels like the sound will carry, announcing your presence to anyone nearby.

Two flights up, Joel stops, his hand on the railing as he glances back at you both. The three of you step into a small, empty room. The windows facing the street offer a view of the chaos outside—the cars, the bodies of the city long left to ruin. Joel moves to one of them, peering out cautiously. Ellie slumps against the wall, her expression unreadable, while you sink down opposite her, resting your back against the cool plaster.

Joel takes a seat on a discarded crate, his shoulders hunched as he rubs his hands together absently. Ellie sits with her knees pulled up, her arms draped loosely over them. Her face carries that familiar defiance, the stubbornness that refuses to be snuffed out. But beneath it, there’s something raw—an unspoken need for acknowledgment. You had tried earlier to find the words, fumbling through praise that felt hollow, but she’d brushed it off with a sharpness that lingered.

Joel takes a seat on a tossed crate, and Ellie sits against the wall, facing him. Her face still betrays her sense of defiance, her disbelief that either of you wouldn’t have the guts to praise her for saving your lives. You had tried to, unsure of what the right words were, but they didn’t feel like enough.

Ellie breaks the silence. “You okay?” she asks, her voice quieter than usual.

You nod, your eyes flicking toward Joel. “Are you?”

He exhales through his nose, the sound more tired than anything else. “I’m alright.” His voice is gruff, clipped. Then his gaze shifts to Ellie. “You?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her tone lacks conviction.

Joel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Thing is…” he starts, shaking his head like he’s trying to work through it himself. “I didn’t hear that guy comin’. Didn’t even see him ‘til he was right up behind you.” His eyes flick to yours, and there’s a weight in them that makes you swallow hard.

“I didn’t either. It’s—”

“It ain’t okay,” he cuts in, not harshly, but with enough force to stop you mid-sentence. His voice softens, though his words don’t as he looks to Ellie. “It was either him or…us.”

The silence between them stretches taut, a silent conversation you aren’t privy to. Finally, Ellie breaks eye contact, rolling her eyes. “Was that your version of a thank you?” she says, her tone biting.

Joel scoffs, breaking the tension, “Guess it was.”

“You’re welcome,” she says then.

You shift uncomfortably, searching for something to say. “You’re just a kid. You shouldn’t…you shouldn’t have to know what it means to…” The words catch in your throat. “It’s not like you killed him, but still. For you to have to hurt someone…”

Ellie doesn’t let you finish. “It wasn’t my first time,” she says, the words tumbling out like she hadn’t meant to say them. Her voice is tight, and her eyes glaze over, distant. Whatever she’s remembering, it’s something she’s not ready to share.

Though the tension seems to have faded, the room still feels heavy, the air thick with things unsaid. Joel shifts, reaching for the small handgun tucked into his waistband. His movements are slow, deliberate, as he weighs it in his hand. He checks the ammo with practiced ease before holding it out to Ellie.

“This,” he says, his tone low and serious, puling it away as she goes to take it from him the first time, “is for emergencies only.”

He finally hands it over, her small fingers wrapping around the grip. A ghost of a smile flickers across her lips, quickly smothered. “I’ll be careful,” she says, her voice steady, her brow set with determination.

Setting off again, the three of you climb yet another flight of stairs. Each step feels like fire now, a sharp, relentless sear that shoots up your thigh with every push. The adrenaline that had dulled the pain earlier had long since burned out, leaving you raw and aching. The silence of the building presses in—no distant engines, no shouts, no gunshots. It should feel like a relief, but the quiet only makes the throb in your leg that much harder to ignore.

On the next landing, you stumble slightly, your breath hitching as your hand flies to your thigh where Joel’s makeshift bandage is still tied tightly. You double over, leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

���Hey.” Joel’s voice comes from above, gruff but sharp enough to cut through your focus on the pain. He’s standing a few steps up, looking down at you with a frown. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you manage between heavy breaths, though your voice betrays you. “It’s just…my leg.”

Joel lets out a huff, clearly unimpressed by your attempt to downplay it. “Come ‘ere,” he says, already crouching slightly. His hands go out to his sides, palms open like he’s ready to catch you.

You blink at him, caught off guard. “A piggyback? You serious?” The laugh that escapes is half-genuine, half incredulous.

He gives you a pointed look, his tone impatient. “Yeah, it’s a serious piggyback. Now come on. We gotta get moving, and you’re slowing us down.”

Typical Joel. The offer of help wrapped in barbed wire. You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath as you push off the wall. God forbid he just does something nice.

Ellie snickers from behind you, clearly enjoying the exchange. You step closer to Joel, your movements hesitant. The thought of being that close to him—his hands on you, his warmth so near—makes your face flush before you’ve even touched him.

“Go on,” he says, glancing over his shoulder at you. His gruffness is almost convincing, but there’s a flicker of something else in his expression. Awkwardness? Unease? It’s hard to tell, but it only makes your stomach twist more.

You step up behind him, your hands twitching at your sides as you try to figure out the logistics. “Alright,” you say, mostly to yourself. You bend your knees and jump lightly, trying to be careful, but his hands catch your legs firmly, hoisting you up with surprising ease. The sudden contact sends a jolt through you, and you can’t stop the small gasp that escapes your lips.

Joel grunts as he adjusts your weight. “Jesus, you don’t eat much, do you?”

You glare at the back of his head. “You sure about this, old man?” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck, careful not to choke him. Your hands clasp low beneath his chin, the heat of his skin against yours making your pulse thrum.

Your face burns, and you’re grateful he can’t see it. The closeness, the feel of his hands steadying your legs, the solid warmth of his back pressing into your chest—it’s all too much. You swallow hard, trying to push the thoughts away. This is Joel, the hardened man who can’t show kindness without burying it beneath a shell of toughness and quiet resolve, often choosing silence over saying anything that might betray it. But your teenage self, the one who’d harbored that stupid crush on him long before you were forced out of your only sanctuary, is practically screaming inside your head.

You shift slightly, trying to focus on anything but the warmth of his body against yours. “This doesn’t mean I owe you anything,” you mutter, your voice quieter than you intended.

Joel snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Ellie, trailing behind, grins from ear to ear. “Aw, you two are so cute,” she teases, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

“Shut up,” you and Joel snap in unison, which only makes her laugh harder.

Joel presses on, his steps steady despite carrying your weight up the stairs. You’re acutely aware of the warmth of him beneath you, the rough fabric of his shirt brushing your forearms where your hands are clasped around his neck. The awkwardness sits heavy in your chest, but you try to push it down, focusing on the rhythm of his movement instead.

Still, the silence stretches between the three of you, tense and thick, and you find yourself blurting out the question before you can stop yourself. “Hey… Joel?”

He grunts in acknowledgment but doesn’t slow down.

“Before,” you say, your voice quieter now. “With the guy in the street. How did you know it was a trap?”

His pace falters for the briefest moment—a single misstep on the stairs that he recovers from so quickly you almost think you imagined it. Almost.

Joel exhales heavily through his nose, the sound harsh in the quiet stairwell. “Because I’ve been on both sides,” he says, his voice low and matter-of-fact, like it’s a truth he’s long since resigned himself to.

You stiffen slightly on his back, your hands tightening reflexively around his neck. You can’t see his face, but you feel the tension radiating off of him, the way his shoulders seem just a little more rigid now.

“Oh,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of his boots against the stairs. It’s all you can manage, the weight of his admission pressing down on you like a physical thing. You want to ask more, to press for details, but the look on Ellie’s face when you glance back at her stops you. She’s quiet, her expression serious in a way you’re not used to seeing.

The rest of the climb is silent. Joel doesn’t say another word, and you don’t push. But the weight of his confession clings to the air around you, seeping into the cracks of your mind and settling there, uncomfortable and unshakable.

When you finally reach the next landing, Joel crouches slightly to let you slide off his back. His hands leave your legs the moment you’re steady, and he straightens, adjusting his pack like nothing happened. You hesitate for a moment, glancing at him, but his expression is closed off, unreadable.

“Thanks,” you mumble, your voice small.

He doesn’t look at you. “Don’t mention it,” he says gruffly, already moving toward a large metal door that leads into the next room.

[homely-lunatic]

one of the things I think is rly interesting about the usher kids' deaths is that there's a clear linear pattern in how much influence verna has on the way they die, starting with virtually no influence and ending in a death 100% orchestrated by her.

like okay. perry's death? completely his fault. the only influence we see verna have on him is in her attempts at convincing him to call off the party and not blackmail people. the acid was already in the tanks, he made the negligent decision to hook up the tanks to the water system without testing them. if he'd never met verna, the party would have gone on exactly as planned and he would have died via acid rain anyways.

then there's camille. her death is similar to perry's in that there's a clear cause -> effect of her breaking into a lab full of chimps hyped up on adrenaline -> being mauled by a chimp, but there's also little hints at verna's interference. camille talks to verna right before she dies, its implied via the photo she takes that the chimp that killed her appeared to her as verna for a moment, and there's also the question of how the chimp got out in the first place. yes she probably would have died in this manner anyways based on her own decisions, but there's slightly more of a direct influence from verna than perry got.

with leo, we know that him initially killing pluto was a hallucination thanks to his drug use, but I get the impression that everything that follows is a blend of verna messing with him and further drug-induced hallucinations. the pet store he visits is actually an abandoned building full of rats that verna alters his perception of, and his visions of her in his apartment definitely feel more verna-induced than drug-induced, yet there's also kind of the implication that all the stuff with the hammer leading up to leo's death is drug hallucination-related. we also see verna appear to him multiple times; she's not just a single mysterious figure at a party or a lone security guard, she's now running a store and coming to his house and talking to him on multiple occasions.

vic is similar to leo in that her death is caused by a slow descent into madness, but the way in which this plays out is directly caused by verna. yes vic was planning on going forward with human trials, but verna is the one who shows up and poses as a test subject. there's still ambiguity when it fully comes to the question of supernatural influence, and verna's insertion into vic's life was more specific than leo's but also broad enough that its reasonable to argue that things might have played out the same had she not been there. would everything with ally dying and vic spiraling have played out the exact same way if the human trial had happened later, or if another test subject had showed up? maybe, but the actual course of events that transpired only happened because of verna's direct influence on them.

but tammy was terrorized for weeks by verna before she died. verna shows up as a replacement escort, then continues to show up in the background of tammy's life. she shows up in her apartment, appears to her in a supernatural-ish way at the goldbug launch, and when it comes to tammy's actual death she's in there fucking with her through the mirrors. I guess you could argue that she still wouldve gotten super paranoid over the launch and maybe started to hallucinate the original escort following her? but unlike the rest of them (except vic, who I feel also falls into this category), her death doesn't feel like it would have necessarily played out the exact same way it did had verna not been there. she only dies because she smashes a mirror that verna is taunting her from.

and then finally frederick, who didnt get a choice (not that he deserved one), verna steps in and 100% causes his death in a very specific way that wouldnt have happened had she not directly interfered with his life.

and then you look at the fact that the siblings died in reverse order of age, which is also in the order of shortest amount of time spent as a member of the usher family to longest, and the fact that the two who objectively had the most interference from verna in their respective deaths were the only two who were actually alive when roderick made the deal..... idk I feel like there's something there.

[shesmymorphine]

run.

♰ slasher!abby anderson x fem!reader.

thought i’d leave a little something here in the meantime i get my ellie fic finished and i know the slasher trope is so overused but this is based off of a dream i had a few nights ago. a little rushed towards the end but u get it.

content includes: modern!au, descriptions of m*rder, blood, heavy petting, fingering n oral (both r!receiving), abby is mean and scary, lowkey a stalker, ergo a local outcast, but reader is also kind of a loser too. kinda unrealistic ONLY BC IT WAS BASED OFF OF A DREAM I HAD!

nsfw under the cut minors please do not interact.

————————————————————————-

faster.

is the word you kept mentally repeating to yourself as you sprinted through the woods, barefoot, cold, and scared. you could hear her heavy footsteps hitting the ground behind you, getting closer. closer. closer.

the beginning was fairly simple. you were reluctantly dragged to a party with a group pf people you barely knew. it was an attempt to “get you to socialize”, they said. but all in all, you ended up sitting alone while the rest of them were laughing, drinking, and enjoying the fresh summer breeze at a cozy, isolated lake house. you should have known better, really. with all of the numerous homicide reports spiking within your county, it was almost inevitable that this would happen.

and it all happened so fast. you’d gone to the bathroom for what seemed like five minutes, before you heard the loud, banshee like screech of one of your friends echoing through the entire house. when you’d so stupidly exited out of the confines of the bathroom, your eyes flew wide open at the sight before you.

a grisly scene of all of your friends grotesquely killed, stab wounds and large gashes littering their bodies. blood was smeared on the walls, the furniture. almost everywhere you looked, you saw nothing but the deep crimson essence adorning the walls.

that’s when you saw her.

a tall, buff, terrifying woman, wearing what seemed to be a bloodied white muscle shirt, and equally bloodied jeans. her long, dirty blonde hair was sprawled along her back and broad shoulders, and she was clutching the shirt collar of a boy you didn’t even know the name of, pulling the axe out of his chest with a loud grunt. as soon as she heard you step down the stairs, she snapped her head back to look at you, axe securely clutched in one large, gloved hand while she dropped the boy to the ground.

you recognized her as abigail anderson. the girl who seemed to be outcasted and feared everywhere she went, almost always for no apparent or good reason. you’d seen her before, bearing that permanent scowl on her face and hanging around the library or in your shared classes, but you’d never once been put off by her. you remember talking to her one day while you were at the library searching for a certain book, and at first, abby was confused as to why someone as kind as you wasn’t afraid of someone like her; maybe, just maybe, you could understand her. see her for who she really was.

ever since then, she had her sights set out on you.

your heart began to beat a million miles per second, and you just… stood there. too paralyzed with fear to do anything as the warm tears prick your eyes.

abby cocks her head, giving you a conniving, almost evil grin as she recognizes you, which you take as her giving you a head start. it felt like forever before you sprinted down the stairs, and out of the backyard door, not even bothering to grab your shoes on the way out. you run towards the treeline, chest heaving as the adrenaline pumps and courses through your body. your feet begin to ache as you step on the jagged rocks and branches, but you knew that was the least of your worries.

abby soon charges after you, breathing hard and heavy as she keeps a steady pace behind you. your cries of terror only spur her on even more, which only makes her run all the more faster, her strong legs never faltering.

you’re quick to run in all kinds of different directions, hoping to god that you would eventually lose track of her. but it was never that way with abby. not at all. she was hot on your trail, careful to mimic each sharp turn you made through the dark forest.

the loud music blaring from the speakers could still be heard even as you ran deeper and deeper into the woods, almost like a taunt. you didn’t dare look behind you, but you’re not quite watching where you’re going, either. you’re much too distracted with how the sound of abby’s footsteps never seem to fall away, and your foot gets caught on a lifted tree root, which makes you collide with the hard forest floor beneath you.

shit. you think to yourself, the wind almost instantly being knocked out of you. it was hard to breathe, and you tried your hardest to get back up, to absolutely no avail. you look up at the sky above you, hot tears streaming down your cheeks as you let out a strained sob. your ears began to ring as you rolled over onto your back, clutching and clawing at your own chest.

abby’s eyes fly open, and she stops in her tracks right in front of you, still clutching the axe within her hand. oh, this was precious, she thought.

you could hear her heavy, muffled breathing, and a loud, terrified scream leaves your throat as you hurriedly back up against a nearby tree. abby chuckles at the sight, and she grabs your arm with a rather excruciating grip, hauling you up against the large tree.

“gotcha.” she spits as she brings her other hand to hold the blade of the axe to your torso, which makes you scream and thrash against her even more violently.

the rancid stench of death soon fills your nostrils as she leans in even closer to you, pressing her nose against your cheek, and she keeps her lips close to your ear. abby then presses the blade deeper into your skin; not hard enough to break the supple barrier, but hard enough to make your consciousness falter.

“shut the fuck up.” she seethes rather harshly, and you unwillingly oblige. you’re visibly trembling beneath her, shaking your head, pleading and begging for her to spare you. your eyes continuously dart between the blood stained blade pressed firmly against your skin and her face, your hands shaky as you try your hardest to push her away from you.

of course, it’s no use. her large frame completely dwarfs yours in shadows, and you let your head fall back against the tree as you keep on sobbing.

“please, don’t… don’t kill me, i won’t tell anyone, abby, i swear, just please don’t fucking kill me.” you beg, the words coming out shaky and weak, which makes abby laugh into your ear. her breath is warm and wet against your skin, and it sends a wave of electricity down your spine.

she then suddenly stops for a moment, still breathing hard against the skin of your neck. you knew her name. the precious girl she’d always been after knew her name. it was the biggest sense of humanity that had ever befallen her, and she soon finds herself questioning what she had been doing all these years.

soon enough, abby snaps out of her confused train of thought, and pulls away to look at you. her cerulean eyes pierce into your own as she mocks your words with an undeniable coldness in her voice. your legs ached and trembled, and they would’ve given out on you had it not been for the sheer adrenaline still pumping through your system.

she moves to grab your face with one of her gloved hands, and she gives you that same, horrifying smile again. her eyes were low and narrowed as she began to speak again, “stupid girl. you really should have known better.” she coos at you, before she pulls the axe away from your stomach, hauling it back above your head before jamming it deep into the bark of tree with a grunt, missing your head by just a hairs breadth. sap begins to bleed around the blade, and it drips down to fall on one of your shoulders, which forces you to face the reality of the situation once more.

you let out a horrified sob as she does this, body still trembling beneath her inhumanly strong grip; but the way that she was breathing, the way that she was grunting as she held you firmly against the tree, and the harsh rasp of her smooth voice… it sent a wave of arousal coursing through you. this woman had just butchered the people you were with, and could very easily lead you down that same path; but as soon as she saw your face flush red as you began to writhe against her, it was almost as if a switch had flipped in her brain.

abby scoffs and shakes her head, hurriedly pulling off one of her gloves with her teeth before spitting it off to the ground. with one large, free hand, she takes both of your wrists, pinning them above your head before she messily shoves the other one down your shorts. your hips begin to buck at her touch as she begins to harshly rub at your clit, and abby’s breath comes out shaky when she feels your pooled up slick coating her fingers. “really? you’re fucking getting off on this?” she asks, and you whine, shaking your head at her proffer. your body, though, has a much different reaction.

you keep on moaning for her, completely going against your best interests. her fingers were thick and long, and you really couldn’t help but chase that senseless feeling of alleviation. she then slowly but surely eases one of her fingers inside your achy hole, and you continue to try and break free from her strong grip, in order to grasp at her shoulders, her hair, anything.

“s’fucking tight. such a needy slut.” abby scolds you, and you bite down hard on your lower lip as she seemingly expertly curls her digit up against your sweet spot. you keep your head firmly planted against the tree behind you. you roll your hips against the palm of her hand, eyes rolling towards the back of your skull as you grind your swollen bead against the calloused part of her hand.

you look up to meet her gaze again, chest fluttering when you see her staring back. abby’s brows were furrowed, and pieces of her hair stuck to her face with sweat. you study the bridge of her freckled nose, and the way that her pretty pink lips curved downwards. your eyes fell to her large, blood stained muscular arms, and her long, murky blonde hair cascading down her strong, broad shoulders. you hurriedly take in each one of her features, and a huge wave of confusion washes over you.

how could anyone have ever been afraid of her?

abby begins to feel the unfamiliar pang of her own stomach beginning to flutter as you continued to gaze at her, and she furrows her brows even more. no one had ever looked at her like that before. “the fuck are you staring at?” she seethes, and she shoves another finger inside of you.

your eyes go wide and your cunt flutters at the sudden intrusion, which draws a loud cry from your lips. your face continues to burn with embarrassment, and abby continues to breathe heavily as she bangs her fingertips up against your g spot. she groans when she feels your warm, gummy walls tightening around her fingers.

“abby… abby, s’too much..” you hiccup, and abby scoffs again, tugging you forward by your wrists. but with each time her name falls from your lips, the feeling bottoms out at her own cunt. “oh, it’s too much? that’s too bad. stop fuckin’… squirming. you should learn to be more grateful.” her voice is hoarse and mean, so mean. but you try your hardest to stop squirming, arching your back off of the tree and standing on your tip toes as abby continues to fuck you.

your eyes fall shut as you feel her leaning into you again, her hair gently falling over your chest as she buries her face within the crook of your neck. she smells of dirt and sweat, and her skin was warm to the touch. abby soon drags her lips along the valley between your jaw and neck, which only heightens your senses. she notices this, taking it upon herself to gently nip at the exposed skin.

you begin to desperately rock your hips against her palm, the inevitable and uncontrollable feel of your orgasm beginning to pool up at the bottom of your stomach. abby clicks her teeth at this, dragging her ministrations to a stop. you whine and let yourself slump back against the tree, still moving your hips around in slow circles all while her fingers are still buried inside of you.

“please… abby, please. i…” you stop yourself before you can say anything else, making sure to keep direct eye contact with her. your chest heaves and you let out a soft whine, and abby’s lips twitch in response. you find your gaze darting from her stare to her lips, and you whine as you begin to rock your hips again. she slowly, almost unknowingly leans in until you’re nose to nose, and she curls her fingers up inside you one last time. a quiet whine leaves your throat, and it’s clear she’s lost in the moment, you both are, completely forgetting about any previous circumstances regarding anything else that’s happened tonight.

“i need you.” your voice is so small, but so clear. just when you’re about to press your lips to hers, she pulls away to look at you for a second, her expression curled up into a hateful, almost disgusted sneer, but once your words register in her brain, it falters a little bit.

no one had ever needed her before; how foolish little abby was.

abby slowly pulls her hand out from your shorts to rest on your hip, and her breath begins to hitch as she suddenly drops to her knees before you. your wrists are now free from her crushing grip, but you don’t dare to move, or run. you were in too deep, and so was abby. you both knew that at this point.

your stomach flutters as she looks up at you, her eyes low and narrowed. abby pulls off her other glove with her hand, before she can move to hastily pull your shorts off of your hips. you let her, moving to entwine a hand in her hair. abby carefully leans in a little closer to your clothed cunt, before she presses her nose into your clothed mound, shutting her eyes and inhaling your musky scent.

she gently nudges your clit with her nose, before she slowly darts her tongue out to lap at your clothed slit, hoisting one of your thighs up over one of her shoulders. you shut your eyes at the feeling, the back of your head hitting the hard bark of the tree for what seems like the millionth time tonight.

you groan, slowly beginning to roll your hips against her face, which makes her bring one large hand up to grope at the fat of your ass. abby lets her eyelids flutter shut as she continues to grunt and lap at your cunt, and she slowly pulls away from you to gently grab at the hem of your panties with her teeth. your eyes are hazy and your body feels weak when you feel her start to pull them down, and you let out a quiet gasp when the cool night air hits your now exposed sex.

abby stares in awe once she sees just how wet you are, pulling your glistening folds apart to watch your slick drip down the insides of your thighs. you look away in embarrassment as she does this, and abby can feel her own mouth beginning to water at the sight before her. she didn’t even know she could have an effect like this on someone.

“fuck… look at that.” she begins, running her fingers over your now budded clit, gently massaging your soft bundle of nerves. she chuckles when she feels your arousal beginning to coat her fingers again, and she moves to spread your legs just a little wider. your hands are instinctively moving to rake themselves through her hair, and you can feel her hot breath panning over your swollen folds, which makes you inch yourself just a little closer to her lips.

abby obliges, licking a long, unhurried stripe from your hole to your clit, which makes you buck your hips against her mouth. you grip her hair a little harder as she moves to gently suck on your clit, only spurring her on even more.

“oh… fuck, that’s so good, abby. so good.” you gasp out into the air, no one else listening but abby and the trees surrounding you. she grunts at your praise, letting that all too unfamiliar feeling of her stomach fluttering consume her whole. she continues to slowly lap at your swollen, achy cunt before slowly moving her hands up your thighs to grab a hold of your hips.

you cry out for her, and for her only. your soft oh my god’s and babbled words of appraisal as she continues to make a mess out of your poor pussy, they’re all for her. abby couldn’t count how many times she’d envisioned this while fucking herself late at night in her bed, and now that she’d finally had you, she’d be sure to never let you go.

you look down to see your chest heaving and abby’s pretty face nestled comfortably in your now soaked thatch of curls, and the sight makes your legs go even weaker. your heart races even faster in your chest as you clutch at her hair, moving one free hand to grope at the fat of your own tit to manage the feeling of her tongue prodding at your entrance.

abby notices how you’ve began to grind your pussy even harder against her tongue, and she slides a free hand down from your hip to find post on your inner thigh, inching dangerously close to your slicked entrance. you welcome her touch, still tugging and pulling at her blonde locks, shutting your eyes as she continues to flatten her tongue out against your clit.

abby loves the way you taste; too forgiving and saccharine against her chapped lips. she laps up all of your sweet juices, eating you out like a woman starved. your breath begins to hitch as she starts to suck harshly, all while swirling her warm, wet tongue along the underside of your pussy. abby pulls your hips even further into her face by grabbing at your ass, and she pushes her spit back up against your messy, pulsating cunt.

the feeling is so fucking vulgar, but it feels so fucking good. you’re sure to let her know it, letting out mixes of cries and moans combined together, babbling her name and clawing at her scalp. abby moans up into your cunt each time you harshly yank at her hair, the pain going straight down to her own, neglected pussy. that tight feeling in your abdomen grows stronger and stronger with each time abby sucks and licks, and abby loves how desperate you’re becoming. all because of her.

“shit… i’m gonna cum, abby… gonna cum…” you warn, voice breaking when you say her name. abby doesn’t respond, though. she only slightly picks up her pace, and if it weren’t for her strong grip holding your legs firmly in place, you’re certain your knees would have buckled and given out on you. all it takes is one lick and a single kiss to your clit for you to finally unravel into her mouth, and you violently grip at her hair once more. abby’s breath falls heavy, and she soon plunges her fingers inside of you to fuck you through your orgasm, and a loud, strained cry leaves your throat at the added overstimulation.

“s’fucking pretty.” abby mutters under her breath as you continue to become undone on her fingers, and when you look down to see her face, your own flushes a deep shade of red. her nose and lips are coated in your juices, and they glisten underneath the bright glow of the moon behind the trees. as vulgar as the sight below you is, she looks so beautiful. neither of you say anything, and all you can do is move to cup her face with one of your palms when she finally stands back up. abby flinches at first, but she reluctantly leans into your touch, her breath faltering as the soft skin of your palm comes into contact with her cheek.

the silence is absolutely deafening. her eyes continue to bore holes into your own as she opens her mouth to say something, anything, but she can only exhale. “abby…” you begin, but you’re conveniently interrupted by the loud blare of police sirens heading towards the lake house, and abby sinks her head down, pulling herself away from you completely. “shit…” she mutters as the red and blue lights flash over her face, and she grabs her axe from the tree, quickly scooping her gloves off of the forest floor.

you can feel that familiar sense of panic sinking into your chest once more, and she quickly helps tug your panties and shorts back on. your heart flips at the sudden kind gesture, and before abby can take off running into the darkness of the forest, she presses her lips to your ear again. “meet me at the library next saturday.” is all she says, before she quickly takes off into the darkness behind her, leaving you alone against the tree. her footsteps begin to fade away, and instead of a horrid sense of panic, you’re filled with a newfound sense of… relief? you slump back against the tree, knitting your brows as you hear the policemen getting closer to you, the glare from their flashlights nearly blinding you.

abby knew that this wasn’t the last she’d be hearing from you. it was far from it. she could still taste you on her tongue as she ran back to her cabin, the image of your flushed face never leaving her mind.

[mattslolita]

psycho killer - c. sturniolo ( 003. )

in which ... a killer is terrorizing the town of boston and charmaine soon realizes she's the final girl in his twisted game.

ghostface!chris x black!fem oc

warnings ; blood , gore , death , eventual smut , angst , ghostface!chris , final girl! oc

"𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒓𝒆!"

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

news reporters and police officers swarmed the entrance to somerville high school — even with madison riding next to her in officer levine's police car, charmaine still wished she would be swallowed whole by the earth. there was no way she could stand all that.

madison bit her lip as she drummed her fingers along the door, and charmaine could see the girl visibly shaking. she looked up and saw officer levine give both girls a sympathetic smile. "i know it's gonna be difficult for you girls, but you'll be safer here at school."

"yeah, unless we get accused for murder," madison scoffed quietly, glancing over at charmaine, "honestly, there's no way people aren't gonna mob us."

"they've got me on speed dial in case someone does," officer levine reassured the girls. charmaine looked up then, a tired half smile on her face.

"thanks, officer," the older girl mumbled, turning to look at madison, "let's just get this over with, okay?"

madison nodded hesitantly, and both girls hurriedly stepped outside the police the car — no sooner than a minute later just after madison linked her arm with charmaine's the two girls got overran by all the reporters.

"what was the attack like?"

"who attacked you? do you know who it was?"

"did one of you kill morgan maldonado?"

"did you team up to kill her?"

charmaine felt her blood boil at the comment — she was about to lash out right then and there, let every report there have it. but then she saw her friend group hurrying to approach the two girls, causing her nerves to slow just slightly.

charmaine felt her breathing begin to shallow as chris, matt, nick, and alahna all came up to the two girls. noticing her panic, chris was quick to whisk the girl to the side so she could calm herself down. "char, i need you to breathe for me."

looking up at chris, charmaine felt herself slowly beginning to calm as his azure eyes looked into hers worriedly. he steadied her with both his hands on her waist. when charmaine looked past chris though, she could see the eyes of almost all the student body on her. and she began to feel even worse when she saw they were also looking at madison — tears brimmed her eyes.

"hey, it's okay," chris whispered to the girl, pulling her into a hug, holding her close, "i'm so glad you're okay."

"i'm glad madi's okay," charmaine mumbled into chris's shoulder, letting out a breath, "i can't believe morgan's gone."

charmaine pulled away from chris, wiping away at the tears that escaped her eyes. "how're you feeling? i'm so sorry morgan's gone..."

chris's eyes went downcast and her took a grim expression, and the brunette boy shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "me either. we were supposed to go to prom together and everything..."

charmaine's heart ached for her best friend — although she was in love with chris, she knew that morgan made him so happy. she was their number one supporter, and she would always be the one who'd try and resolve it whenever they got into a fight. charmaine was so sad that now she wouldn't get to see them grow together — even if she did wish it was her chris could've grown with.

"oh char," alahna said, coming up towards charmaine and pulling her into a big hug, "i'm so glad you're safe, baby."

"yeah, me too i guess," charmaine said, hugging alahna back tightly, "i'm just glad you weren't there."

"hey, it's my turn now!" nick said, motioning for alahna to let go, causing the curtis girl to roll her eyes and step aside as nick moved to hug her, "i'm so sorry, char."

"it's okay, nick," charmaine said, smiling softly.

"and now everyone's gonna be looking at us like we're criminals," madison scoffed, shaking her head and looking around.

and of course, everyone was staring at the two girls — the whispers weren't so subtle, and charmaine wished she could punch the shit out of everyone. but she knew that wasn't gonna change anything.

"hey, we know you two are innocent," matt said with a frown, rubbing madison's back comfortingly, "especially you madi, you couldn't hurt a fly."

"truth, i've had to kill plenty of bugs for her whenever we hang out," nick added, causing madison to roll her eyes playfully and hit nick's chest.

"we've been best friends for too long for me to ever think any different of you, charm," alahna said, smiling at charmaine softly. 

"well, i'm glad you believe me, lans," charmaine smiled weakly, letting out a sigh, "i just wish everyone else could've been there to know the truth."

as the triplets and alahna attempted to comfort the girls, charmaine couldn't help but notice that chris hadn't left her side once — it was like he was rooted in his spot there, and charmaine could feel the butterflies in her stomach at the thought; even though madison was his best friend too, it was like chris was mostly worried about charmaine.

"listen, the bell's about to ring," chris suddenly whispered to charmaine, "you wanna head to class?"

taken aback by the sudden action, charmaine's cheeks warmed and she nodded. "yeah, i guess so. i'll see you guys later."

"yeah, see you later, char," matt said softly, pulling his best friend into a side hug. "just text any of us if you need someone to skip with you, okay?"

"yeah," charmaine said, giving matt a small smile, "thanks matt."

the second oldest triplet smiled at the girl, as chris and her began walking away from the group. charmaine hoped either nick or matt would walk madison to class, being that alahna and madison aren't as close yet, and she didn't want there to be tension between them. charmaine met alahna and the triplets before she met madison, so naturally she was closer to alahna — but she loved both the girls the same regardless, and she hoped they could get along with each other.

the walk to their class started off silent, until charmaine caught chris sneaking glances at her. "okay, what is it, chris?"

chris sighed, fully turning to charmaine, both of them having stopped in the hallway. chris ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm just really sorry i couldn't be there for you, chari."

charmaine caught herself smiling at the use of the nickname — whilst everyone else either called her char or even charm, only chris had ever called her chari, which was the combination of her first and middle name. it made her feel special in a way, especially since he never had any nicknames like that for morgan.

"it's better you weren't there, actually," charmaine laughed humorlessly, "otherwise that's another friend i would've lost."

"oh, so are you saying i can't protect you?" chris joked with a grin, causing charmaine to roll her eyes playfully, "i'm a lacrosse player, i could easily beat his ass."

charmaine laughed. "mhm, playing lacrosse doesn't make you strong, chris!"

both teens laughed before a serious expression took over chris's face, and he folded his arms across his chest, looking down at charmaine — she raised an eyebrow at him as he narrowed his eyes at her slightly. "you do know i'm always gonna be there, right charmaine?"

charmaine should not be finding what chris is doing attractive, but she does — after all, morgan's not here anymore. wow, she was so horrible for even thinking something like that. she was a horrible friend.

"yeah, i know, chris," charmaine answered slowly, glancing up at him, unable to maintain the eye contact.

"okay."

as the two teens continued walking with each other, charmaine couldn't stop pondering on their moment they shared just now — of course, it was only something between really close friends. there was nothing more that lingered there, and charmaine needed to remind herself of that.

when they reached charmaine's first class, she sighed and stopped at the door, turning to face chris. he looked down at her with a small grin, causing charmaine to roll her eyes. "i'll see you later, chris."

pulling the boy into one last hug for the time being, she hurriedly walked into her first class of the day. all the while, with his arms crossed over his chest and leaning against the door frame, chris had watched the girl's every movement, never taking his eyes off of her. charmaine sat down in her seat and set her bag beside her, and she ran a hand through her hair just then. chris's jaw ticked at the looks she received, and he knew that she'd probably need to get away from them all soon — charmaine looked towards the door and saw chris still there; when she gave him a reassuring smile, is when he finally decided to walk away from where he was head to his own classroom.

💌 lil

i'm giggling i love overprotective chris🤭 a little bit jealous chris in the next part😏

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @eyeliketoeatpoosay @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @mattsivy @guccifrog @prettiest-poision @e1ias3 @breeloveschris @summerssover @l0akkzz

[xiakato]

Interview with the Director(M)- NINGNING

“Took you long enough to get here,” The woman takes a sip from her glass, her office overlooking a beautiful mountain range in the valleys of Switzerland. 

“Giselle doesn’t like giving me the answers I want,” You sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk. 

“She’s always been one to beat around the bush.” 

“Rather annoying, I had to fuck it out of her,” You sigh placing the audio recorder onto her desk. 

“Well if the stories I’ve heard about you are true, I can’t blame her,” The woman’s smile is captivating. Of course the low light that these women seem to rejoice in, added to the atmosphere nearly as much as their beauty. 

“You could see later, first and foremost it’s an interview my dear Ning Yizhuo.” 

“You’ve certainly done your research, even knowing that name I’ve long since forsaken.” 

“It was difficult, you’ve nearly scrubbed every record of your name besides one of course.” 

“My death certificate?” 

“Yes, why? Why go through all that trouble for everything else but leave that?” 

“Because Ning Yizhuo is dead to the world and anyone that may fall about the story of the Ning family, the family that was found dead in their home.” 

“Tell me about your family,” You pull out your journal, filled with the notes from the previous two interviews. The stories these girls hold you feel that they need to be heard. 

“Run of the mill family, I feel, well as run of the mill we could be for 1740,” She leans back in her luxurious chair, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. The snow falling to the ground as if it’s a missing piece of a larger than life puzzle, “There were whispers, that my family was plotting to betray the Emperor, yet my family still tried and true. My father was a devoted man, my mother could care less, her only care was the children. Till a night such as this one,” she nods her head at the beautiful snowy night and the surrounding alps, “It was a cold night, the fire burned brightly. They descended about our house, blood lined the walls. The blood of the maids spilt in their living quarters sullied their footsteps. They dragged us out of our beds. The terror that encased my body, the tears that stained my cheeks. The cries of my family that fateful night fell on deaf ears as we were slaughtered one by one,” She pauses as a tear falls down her cheek, remembering that painful night of which changed her life, it haunts her, even now, tormenting her in her dreams, “I was left bleeding out on the floor, my vision slowly fading and that’s when I saw her. Skin was white as the snow that fell around her.”

“Is that how she got her nickname?” 

“You seem to know who it is already so yes that’s how she did get that name, Winter.” 

“What of Karina’s brother?” 

“Oh Sunwoo, a cutie, very diligent. He’s long since gone on to work for an unsavory group of vampires. One's hope is to turn the tide of the elders, hoping to get their hands onto power that is yet out of their grasp.” 

“What is this group?” 

She gets out of her chair, “Follow me,” You grab the recorder and follow, “The group is nothing less than a meager thorn in the side of the ones aligned with the elders. They wish to garner enough power and people that could use the power of elders, ones that aren’t an elder themselves. Much like you.” 

“What would they want me for?” 

“They seem to have found a way to extract the power of the hosts, killing them obviously. I heard recently that they’ve been rather busy. I could only assume they’re looking for you,” She opens the door to her bedroom, a lavish room decorated with black and red satin. 

“I see, well enough of them, how did you come to be in charge of this place?” 

“Elder Marius took a particular liking to me, he is long since dead. Watched him turn to ash.” 

“Thanks for your time Miss Ning,” You bow slightly to her and stop the recorder, turning on your heels to leave. 

“Where do you think you’re going manthing?” Her words stop in your tracks, “You seem to think you can just leave without giving me my payment.” 

“What sort of payment do you think you’re going to get?” You turn to look at her, your eyes falling to her perfect legs crossed as she sits on the edge of her bed. 

“The only thing of use that you can give, so strip,” She commanded, her eyes glowing under the light from the fireplace. You were hoping to avoid this as you didn’t want to fuck everyone you interviewed yet her you are pulling your trousers down. She gestures for you to get closer, you do without a second thought. Her soft and slender hand wraps around your cock, shivers run down your spine as you feel how cold she is despite being near a fire. She smirks to herself, “I see why Giselle decided to keep you around.” 

“She keeps more around for more than just my dick,” You tell her as you make her lay on the bed, hiking up her skirt making short work of her panties. 

“Rather confident about it, you should know by now anything that comes out of her mouth you can’t trust,” She chuckles which is replaced by a sharp inhale and a moan as you slide your cock into her, her tightness squeezes your cock not wanting to let go, “Fuck.”

You grip tightly onto her thighs using them as leverage as you thrust deep into her, she squeezes your cock at random intervals adding to your pleasure. Looking down at her, seeing her with that smirk etched on her lips. You part her lips with your thumb, her fangs grazing across it as you keep thrusting, getting her to feel every inch. Her legs wrap around you tightly as she reaches her climax. You slowly pull out as her juices cover the bed sheet. 

“We aren’t done here pretty boy,” She says between catching her breathing, she gets on her knees arching her back, spreading her ass, “Fuck my ass~” 

You don’t have to be told twice, as you push your tip into her ass, “So tight,” You continue to push deeper and deeper.

“No o-ne has fucked my ass since the 80’s, I had to do it myself~” She moans out as you bottom out in her tight ass, “Break me pretty boy, tear that ass up,” She smiles as she feels your cock piston in and out, “FUCK YES!” 

Her moans echo through the halls, the sound skin slapping against skin accompanies it. Your hand wrapped up in her hair as she takes your cock, her mind merely a blank slate. Her eyes glazed over as her ass was used just like she wanted. You pull out quickly, surprising her as she squirts adding to her puddle. Her whole body shakes as she looks back at you, ”You fucker.” 

“I’m only giving you what you wanted, remember that Yizhuo,” You pull her ass back up, spreading it, looking at your handy work. You smile to yourself as you slide back in with ease. She hasn’t recovered from her latest orgasm as you get back to your pace from before. You grip her hips tightly as you pound away chasing your own high using her like a sex toy. She digs her nails into your forearm. You go as fast as your own hips allow as you start to fill her ass with your cum. You keep going, you want to break her, and you will. Grabbing her other arm using them as leverage.

“FUCK FUCK!” She screams out as she starts to squirt as you rail her ass, making sure her ass will forever be able to take your cock whenever. Shooting another load into her, you finally let her go as she collapses on the bed, cum dripping from her ass. You catch your breath as you head over to your trousers. 

“Dirty slut,” You say getting dressed, and walking towards the door as she starts to giggle digging her fingers into her ass spreading it more. 

“Don’t you want to fill my ass more~?”

[lightan117]

I have a problem...

So, I might have gone down my own rabbit hole....with my Rook.

My Rook is a Mourn Watcher Mage who was founded as a baby and taken in. Now, my rabbit hole is that my Rook (once she got older) decided she would help all the other little Mourn Watch foundlings by being the big sister they never got.

She would have started an official Mourn Watch Foundling program for those who are taken in to be official Mourn Watchers once they come of age and can start school. I have a headcannon that Mourn Watchers have their own foundlings groups like the Jedi, but yeah (not as strict). If anyone wants, I can do HC on that if anyone wants it

Anyways! Rook is in charge of this group of rag-tag bunch of munchkins, and they all look up to her because she treats them like family, not like some throw-away piece of trash some people see them as. My Rook, of course, has her shadow that follows her everywhere and is the proclaimed "leader" when Rook is not around. Then, of course, here is where my rabbit hole starts to go into the abyss.

I have this little munchkin in my head that is obsessed with poison. Like poisoning the other little munchkins but not in a bad way, just "They stole my candy, so it's payback." YET! She doesn't know the dosage correctly, so Rook is always stopping near death because this little chaotic minion only does it when Rook is around just to be on the safe side. "Stop poisoning people!" "Why?" "Why?! cuz, it hurts them!" "It doesn't kill them tho, just makes them hurt." "THAT"S A BAD THING MY SMALL CHILD!"

Problem is now is that Rook is with Lucanis...

Lucanis might have brought Teia and Viago for a secret party Emmrich wanted to throw Rook cuz why the fuck not. Emmrich invites Rooks minion children to said party and who does Rook put 2 and 2 together?

That's right, Rook goes to Viago with this little terror in her hands and plops her in front of him like "here ya go, enjoy your new spawn, take it" in the most loving way possible.

Of course Viago and the little terror hit it off right away because both are outcastes with a love for poisoning people who bother them. Teia is off in the corner with Rook already planning on how to gift Viago a child without kidnapping them. Lucanis is warning Viago that they might not survive crow training but Viago is giving Lucanis the side eye like "why the fuck not, the girl is me".

yeeah i need help guys....I'm already writing the fic....

[bonbonshideout]

Who I think the crp would target pt.1

Ticci Toby:

Personally, I feel he would mostly target abusive parents, but if he's out and just bored out of his mind, he'll kill whoever he stumbled across. When ut comes to abusive parents, I feel he would be a bit stalkerish, he'll find a parent or an adult, stalk them for a few days, see how they handle life and treat their families, if he sees any forms of abusive in any manner, he'll go for their ass, at night, in broad daylight, he doesn't give a fuck.

Ben Drowned:

He wouldn't really kill people, but instead, electronics; he would be one of those viruses that you'd find on social media. Once he gets ahold of your device, it'll go haywire to start. Suddenly it'll reset and seem like nothing happened, however Ben would 100% love to mess with the person, opening random apps, turning on/off any alarms they might have, call random people in the contact list, etc. He would end up causing the person to go insane— be it or not his intention— to the point they probably kill themselves.

Jeff The Killer

Like Kuchisake-onna, I feel Jeff would wear a mask of some sort, go up to people, and ask if they think he's pretty, not matter what they say, he'll carve a smile into their face anyways. He just likes to do it. If ya run into him, group or alone, you'll most likely be found dead later on anyways. He likes to kill everyone he runs into

Eyeless Jack

Steming from my headcanons for EJ — linked here — He would kill whoever he finds on the Appalachian trail. He would definitely stalk them throughout their hikes and find a moment where their guard is down and can make one swift motion. He prefers a clean and quick murder. He would probably use his voice to trick people into getting closer - like that of a skinwalker or wendigo - and get them that way. Usually leaving the trails unbothered and a way to keep people coming without much worry.

Clockwork

Doctors, or psychward doctors. Just anyone in the medical field; they're what pretty much why she's kinda what she is now, she holds some sort of grudge, even if it wasn't entirely their fault. She especially hates those that work at psych wards because patients usually end up worse than they were when first arrival. She wants them all to feel what she felt and just understand the suffering they inflict on many people.

Jane The Killer

I feel she wouldn't really kill anyone, she's mostly going after Jeff so she's trying to mostly keep people safe, if that makes sense? But if she were to kill, it would probably be security. As bad as she may feel for doing so, it tends to happen that they get in her way to find and properly locate Jeff.

Nina The Killer

She just does it for fun. She kills whoever she wants to. She does prefer killing other serial killers, though, usually gives her a bit of a challenge, and she's always up for that.

X-Virus

He doesn't have a preference, he'll see a passer by and spike their drink with some crazy concoction he's created and watch as they slowly start dying whilst taking notes of the effects of said poison.

Sally

She goes for pedophiles and rapists. She tries to help kids when it comes to situations that she had gone through while she was alive, having two forms - which I detail more in my hc, linked here - she l9ves to terrorize these people and make them for crazy, though she doesn't like to get her hands dirty, she prefers making them believe they're hallucinating, which she probably can do. Usually driving the individual to commit suicide in probably the worst ways possible, as she likes to cause more damage when there's a higher chance of them committing.

[onceuponastory]

betrayal - nick fowler x reader

"Girls will go to hell and back For boys who taste like heaven." - teenage sacrifice by creeper

Plot: Nick Fowler is gone, killed on a mission a year ago. And his partner and girlfriend Y/N made her peace with that. ...Until she suddenly finds out on a mission that he's very much alive. Pairing: Nick Fowler x Female!Reader Warnings: Death/murder (Nick faked his though), kidnapping, death threats, betrayal, lies and manipulation, grief (and reader shutting herself away due to her grief), heartbreak and angst, light violence. And especially: Nick Fowler being a complete asshole (but one you still can't help but love, because...look at him). But as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know! Notes: I have not written for Nick Fowler in a LONG time, but like I said, a few weeks ago I had a ton of Nick edits show up on my tiktok fyp, and @holacia3 sent me a gif of Nick, so I had a few ideas floating around. But as soon as I heard this song and that line in particular, I knew it would be the perfect fit.

Not beta'd, so any mistakes are my own.

It was a bad idea. She knew it was. She should have stayed with the rest of her team, and not gone off alone. After all, it’s what got Nick killed. As soon as the memory of Nick enters her mind, her body and heart ache, and she has to fight the urge to cry or scream. 

“No. Not here. Make them pay first.” That’s why she got separated from her team. The criminals they’re tracking are the very same who took her partner from her. And she just had to be the hero and go after them, trying to seek justice for Nick. That was the plan, until she ended up getting lost. And now, she’s in a completely radio silent part of the building with a malfunctioning earpiece. “Ugh.” She hisses, leaning up against the wall and trying to get her bearings. If Nick was here, he’d be laughing at her. Sure, he’d tear down every wall in this place to try and find her… but he’d be sure to laugh too. “I miss you, you asshole.” She whimpers as a few tears break free, rolling down her cheeks.

When Nick died, Y/N shut herself away for months, refusing to speak to anyone. Honestly, she lost a part of herself that day. Not just because she and Nick were dating. Well, he said they were. She was the one who refused to confirm it, not wanting to put labels on things because she knew what a job like this does to people in relationships. And the last thing she wanted was to lose what she had with Nick.

But she loved him so much, and though she never admitted it, she was coming round to the idea of officially being his girlfriend. Actually, she was going to tell him that after their mission… the same one he never came back from. When she finally went back to work, she was relegated to desk work, deemed too vulnerable to be out in the field after what happened.

Despite how much she protested, hating the idea of being wrapped up in cotton wool for the rest of her career, refusing to be forever known as ‘the agent whose boyfriend died in the field’... she was secretly appreciative of the coddling. It was a much better option than being sent out and constantly remembering what was lost. The moments with Nick she’d never get back.

And then, this case came along, bringing her the one thing she wanted right on a silver platter. A chance to stop the very criminals who killed Nick. A chance for revenge, to finally put an end to this reign of terror. To make them feel the same pain she did. And she said - no, she fucking insisted - that she would be okay, and not do anything stupid. Yet here she is, proving them all right. Y/N sniffles, ready to try and find her way back to the rest of her team.

But then, it happens. Something grabs her, and she screams, trying to kick her assailant, desperately fighting for her survival. Yet, the more she fights, the tighter he holds her. She’s dragged into a room, and turns around, immediately preparing herself to continue her fight.

That is, however, until she finds herself staring into a pair of blue eyes she recognises immediately. The same pair of eyes that have been haunting her nightmares for the last year.

And everything just…stops.

“Hey there.” Nick chuckles. 

Nick Fowler, her partner and the love of her life. 

Nick Fowler, who’s supposed to be dead. 

And yet, here he is, standing right in front of her, looking perfectly fine. Her entire body stiffens, freezing her in place. 

“No.” She gasps. “No…N-No, you’re dead.” Nick simply laughs again, grinning like he hasn’t just ripped her entire world apart. As if the months she spent crying over him, mourning his loss, feeling empty and numb meant nothing to him. She lifts her hand, placing it on his neck. The rhythmic thudding of his heartbeat tells her Nick’s very much alive. His skin tingles under her touch, and her breath hitches. Maybe things will be okay?

“Sorry. You know how it is in this life.” Nick simply shrugs. She blinks, waiting for him to continue, to explain that even though it’s part of their job, there are some things he can tell her. That he trusts her enough to tell her something, anything. That there’s a reason he had to fake his death and hide it from her. One that she’ll understand if he just fucking tells her.

Because she’d help him, whatever it is. He knows that. She trusts Nick Fowler with her life, and as far as she knew, he felt the same about her. But his silent stare causes a thought to dawn. And it feels like an icy jolt through her body. Since he clearly had no problem lying to her… did he ever care about her feelings? Or feel the same about her? Even in the wee hours of the morning, when Nick held her and kissed every inch of her body and told her she was his girl, the most important person in his life…. was he just pretending? 

“No.” She thinks. “Nick loves you. He’s the one who called you his girlfriend.” But just as soon as that hope flourishes, another thought comes, destroying it. “So why has he been lying to you for so long?” The icy realisation quickly gives way to a new emotion. A deep, passionate anger. It engulfs her, boiling her blood and making her voice like venom. “I am…was your partner, you fucking asshole!” She snaps, shoving Nick back away from her. “You didn’t think to tell me you were going to fake your death? We promised each other that we would tell each other everything, no matter what!” Nick simply smirks. “You promised!” She repeats, imploring him for an explanation.

But she can see it in his eyes. 

He doesn’t care. 

And despite everything Nick has done to her by this point, all the deception… that is what hurts most of all. She shared so many intimate moments with him, gave him so much of herself, and he just threw it back in her face. Like it’s nothing more than a game to him.

“Don’t be like that.” Nick tuts, tilting his head to get a better look at her. As if he wants to see every part of the pain he’s causing her, like some sick perversion. “I had to do it. Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

“If it was me, I would’ve told you. I trusted you!” Her voice cracks, and she almost bursts into tears right there and then. But Nick simply scoffs, his disinterest sending another spike through her already broken heart. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that.” Nick sighs once he notices the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay?” But she can’t even trust him now. She doesn’t even know who he is anymore. If the Nick she fell in love with even existed.

It’s only then, when she looks anywhere but at Nick, that she notices other men in the room, watching them. Men she knows all too well. They’re the enemy, the very people they’re trying to stop, the ones who took Nick away from her. So what is he doing with them? “Nick, if you’re under duress or in trouble, I can help you. Just let me…” Because that would make sense. That would explain why he faked his death and abandoned her. Because he’s in danger too. Her hope builds. "Please god, just let me save him."

“Hey, hey, shhh.” Nick soothes, gently taking her hands. “It’s okay Y/N. There’s no need for that. They’re with me.” He chuckles, cupping her cheek. She tries to flinch away, but he keeps a hold on her. And for just a moment, it’s like how things used to be. Her stomach flutters, and she’s reminded of when Nick kissed her for the last time. Little did she know it was a kiss goodbye. But then, she realises what he’s telling her. And her last smidgen of hope is destroyed.

“You’re… working with them?” She gasps, eyes wide. But that means. Oh god. Her stomach drops, and her chest heaves. Has he been working with the enemy this whole time? Did he ever care about her? Or was she just a stepping stone for his career, a pawn in his plan? 

“Now do you see why I couldn’t tell you?” Nick smirks, still laughing like it’s all a big joke. Like he hasn’t just ripped her apart.

“How could you?” She whimpers. “Y-You used me, and you lied to me. And now you’ve brought me here to kill me.”

Every memory of the moments they shared flashes through her mind. But now, she sees them differently. Nick’s seen her at her most vulnerable, with her feelings and insecurities laid out in the open. He comforted her as she cried, worrying that they’ll never catch these criminals before they hurt someone else. 

And he was working with them the whole time. He was probably laughing as he held her, enjoying the manipulation he was causing.

He never loved her. He just used her love to his advantage. 

“Nobody said anything about dying.” Nick chuckles. “Yet.”

“What do you want with me?”

“Just a proposition. Nothing too bad.” He smiles. 

“Given what you’ve already told me tonight, forgive me for not believing you.” 

“Told you she was stubborn.” Nick smirks to the men in the room. Y/N’s stomach churns. She can’t bear to think about the other things Nick’s been saying about her. She looks around, searching for an escape route. But every exit is blocked. She’s trapped. “Why don’t you join us?” Nick continues. “I told my boss how talented you are, and we both agree that you’d be a perfect fit in our…organisation.” He grins. “You can finally be a free agent, do what you want instead of having people order you around. And….” His voice lowers, and he looks over her body. She hates how her body still betrays her when he does that, how her heart pounds, her breath catches in her throat and she instinctively steps closer to him. Nick grins, knowing he’s got her. “You’ll see a lot more of me. Win-win, really.”

“And what about the innocent people who’ll die?” She asks, her brow raised. Nick simply shrugs.

“Part of the job. You know it is.” He chuckles. “So, what’s it going to be? Come on, Y/N. Come with me.” Nick whispers, smiling at her. The same smile he had whenever they woke up beside one another, their bodies entangled. When she thought he truly loved her.

He was just gathering intel. 

“No.” She speaks. At first, Nick frowns, almost wondering if he misheard her. “I’m not being a part of this.” But then when her words sink in, his gaze hardens.

“Oh. I see.” He sighs. “Must you always be the hero, Y/N? It’s such a weakness.” 

“It’s what I chose to do. To stop people like you.” She hisses.

When she tries to push past him, he grabs her arm, pushing her back against the wall, blocking her path with his body. “Did I say you could leave?” He asks, his voice more forceful. She’s never heard him be so angry, so demanding.

Or maybe he was just a master of hiding it.

“Nick, let me go.” She orders. He ignores her, tightening his grasp.

“What am I going to do with you, Y/N? Hm? I can’t let you go running off to your friends, spilling my secrets, can I?” When no word comes from Y/N, Nick raises a brow. “Cat got your tongue? That’s weird, because you had no issues talking earlier.” Y/N starts to notice the men around them reaching for their weapons, and her heart stops. Suddenly, it all becomes real.

She’s going to die.

She’s going to die at the hands of the person she loves… loved.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She murmurs pathetically. Nick chuckles.

“I’m not going to kill you.” Yet, his grip tightens ever so slightly on her arm. “I might just keep you.” She raises her free fist, attempting to strike him. But Nick is just too quick, grabbing her wrist and twisting it back. She cries out in pain, trying to kick him, but Nick dodges the hit. “Mmm. Touchy, aren’t we?” He smirks. Y/N tries to remain calm, to show him she’s not affected by his betrayal. But her body betrays her once again, and she starts crying.

“Go fuck yourself.” She hisses through her tears. Nick rolls his eyes, tutting. 

“I need to go. Got to explain to my boss that our new asset might take more convincing than we thought.” He turns to the men in the room. “Be careful.” He warns, giving her one last wink. “She’s trouble.”

And then, he's gone.

And Y/N is all alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

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[bizlybebo]

spoiler warning for pd finale/ep40 beep beep beep it’s a long post but bear with me and hear me out

okay so a lot of people (me included) absolutely believe that it was xavier in ep40 who killed atlas right. and it got me thinking more about A: his motivations and B: does this mean that he’s out to get william/pd now? does it mean that he knows? and i feel like this is actually really in plain sight now that i’m thinking about it a little harder.

why atlas of all people? atlas was a victim of a chaos demon and thus caused a significant amount of damage, but he did not mean to and it wasn’t truly him who did it. if this was xavier, why would xavier go for him?

well xavier’s already known for “flashier” methods of getting his message across, and has little disregard for anyone who violates his beliefs. despite a lot of his morals being in the right place (ex: price gouging sick people for their medicine is Bad actually) he takes them to an extreme where he doesn’t care about people getting caught in the crossfire if he’s convinced that they were bad people too, or at least a means to an end for the bad people that they work under (belltech employees who may have been unaware/not taking part of said price gouging or any of the other nefarious shit david was getting into).

it’s implied pretty heavily that xavier has little to no care for heroes, but jade actively disliked them given “what they did to our parents” when talking about her and her sister in ep15 of s2. so when jade is gone and xavier wakes up in the base again, there’s two ways things could’ve gone: either he remembered or he didn’t. and if he remembered, it’s obvious why that’s a problem, but: if he didn’t remember, it still makes a lot of sense why he’d do what he did, and it’s actually super fucking smart on bizly’s behalf if it really was xavier who killed atlas.

it’s likely that xavier still knows that he was planning to break into belltech with the others, or at least maintained earlier memories of that debacle since it’s unclear how long they were kept down there for. so think about it: you break into the building of a multi-billion dollar corporation that has already done shitty things to you and others before and has gotten away with it too (iirc belltech’s charges were cleared, according to will’s mom). then, suddenly, it’s however many days later and you’re waking up in your base with a mangled leg, a sore body, and a lingering terror that you can’t place.

and your best friend is missing.

maybe you have a terrible, sinking gut feeling that something happened to her. maybe you’re furious that the prime defenders never answered your distress calls. maybe you blame them, because if they had just come to save you, she wouldn’t be missing.

belltech is your enemy, but david bell is an untouchable man. you don’t know where he is and there’s no way you’re going to find him and exact revenge in your current state, especially because of the safety protocols that are probably rapidly increasing by the day with that corporation.

but william wisp is david bell’s brother, and you can reach william, and william is part of the prime defenders. they’re part of the hero system, the same hero system that has hurt and betrayed you and others. it’s probably a final straw of yours to not only lose your best friend, but to feel abandoned by the people who call themselves heroes.

but you can’t just go directly for william. you need to send him a message, and hope that it may also reach belltech— so who do you go for? who is the person that not only represents rockfall city, where belltech hq is, but also your ex-allyship with pd? somebody who seems larger than life but who you can kill in merely seconds just to prove that this entire system is all bullshit?

atlas’ possession was the first case where pd and xavier/alan/cantrip actually teamed up, and it kickstarted their allyship that took place for the most part during eps 3-18. pd seemed to know more about the chaos demons than anybody else did, and they managed to take down atlas and free him, but only with the help of xavier and the others (granted will and vyncent actually went down and dakota going feral was the thing that saved them but YKNOW).

killing atlas and marking him with the “X” would be a really smart move on xavier’s behalf, because it’s just innocuous enough for it to be written off as a particularly fucked up way of killing a guy, but people who know him closely as either allies or enemies would clock it instantly.

xavier doesn’t know too much about chaos demons, and he also doesn’t understand what took place there entirely, but if atlas was a great hero and yet fell so easily to the whims of chaos demons, who’s to say that the entire hero system can’t fall to something— somebody else? if atlas is a weak spot for WATCH and he tries to return to heroism, then if xavier snuffs that out not only does he send an important message to pd that severs all ties, but he also emphasizes that nobody is untouchable, not forever. he may not remember what went down at belltech entirely but he knows something happened to jade and he’s going to get back at david bell specifically for it. if he can reach atlas, then he can reach pd. if he can reach pd, he can reach william, and if he can reach william, he can reach his family. and so he can reach david.

also, sowing more public distrust in the hero system would be beneficial in xavier’s eyes, since he probably has a very strong revenge complex built up against WATCH and prime’s general system now. he’s got a very specific yet compelling and somewhat understandable motivation that could lead to him becoming s serious main antagonist in season 3, and so if it was xavier who killed atlas? then bizly has a great understanding of character nuance/motivation, cause and effect, and the worldbuilding of prime and it’s insanely fucking impressive that he managed to tie so much of xavier’s character arc together without even saying his name, bringing certain aspects of his story to a close while opening up new doors that could establish him as yet another ominous presence to loom over the characters in season 3. or maybe i’m reading way too far into that fucking white boy’s ttrpg campaign again

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!!!

WWX identity shenanigans? Or anything!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33

A-Qing is scared.

Everyone around her is dead.

Everyone except Xiao Xingchen and Chengmei.

She doesn't know what to do. Xiao Xingchen remarks at how strange and reclusive everyone in this town is and she nods and complains, saying she wants to go someplace a little more lively, but Chengmei insists he likes it here.

Xiao Xingchen is blind and can't tell that everyone around them is dead and A-Qing can't tell him because she's supposed to be blind too, because if she tries then Chengmei will discover the truth about her and she'll become just one more dead girl who can't do anything to help anyone.

There has to be something happening here, some spell or trick. Xiao Xingchen had smelled blood on the road but he doesn't seem to notice the air of decay or the way no one around them is breathing. Chengmei has done something to dull Xiao Xingchen's senses or addle his mind, has done something to him that he hasn't done to her.

It's important to her that people underestimate her. She's worked hard to be underestimated. But she's almost regretting it now - maybe it would be better to be walking around in ignorance, rather than having to smile and laugh and pretend that the walking corpses around them don't frighten her halfway into being a corpse herself.

She could leave. Chengmei doesn't care enough about her to stop her, she doesn't think, and maybe she could get some help. But what will happen to Xiao Xingchen while she's gone? What if Chengmei does something terrible to him? What if he takes Xiao Xingchen and leaves and by the time she comes back they're gone forever?

The thought is ever worse than her current situation, so she stays, and hopes one day she'll find an opening to get them to safety.

She's by the river, because the corpses seem to avoid running water, when she sees a woman she's never seen before walking through the mist. A-Qing squints, trying to make sense of what she's seeing as the woman heads in her direction. It makes her nervous, but the corpses have never hurt her before.

She's wearing pale blue robes and she's tall, for a woman, and almost too skinny. Her dark hair falls freely down her back but she has a strange ribbon wrapped around her forehead. A-Qing is trying to figure out what killed her, considering she lacks the puffy face of strangulation or and her robes are free from blood, when she notices a sword at the strange woman's side.

Terror shoots through her. A-Qing yanks her robes to her knees, getting ready to run, when the woman waves at her and shouts, "You there! You're alive, aren't you? Have you seen anyone else alive around here? He'd be this tall, in all white, very pretty?"

A-Qing freezes, mouth dropping open. The woman still has her tongue. Her eyes sting and she desperately tries to blink her tears away, worried if she loses sight of the woman in front her that she'll disappear completely.

This woman is alive. She's got a sword and she's smiling and she's asking for Xiao Xingchen, which means maybe she's a cultivator too, maybe she can save them from Chengmei's horrible games.

A-Qing throws herself at the woman, who in spite of her small stature doesn't so much as sway with the impact, and instead lays a warm hand against her back. "What's all this, then? What are you doing here with all this going on, anyway?" She rubs soothing circles into her back. "Hey, hey, don't cry! It's going to be okay. I may not look like much, but I'm pretty good with stuff like this."

She's warm. She's warm and alive and she's a cultivator and she's going to help.

A-Qing keeps her forehead pressed against the woman's chest and starts talking.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

The Flip Side Part 13

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~9.6k

Summary: Your motivation to continue working as a mobster in Chicago is dwindling after the birth of your daughter.

A/N: Sorry for the unplanned hiatus. This was just very difficult to write! 

Warnings: Angst, violence, mentions of abuse, death, blood, non-con kissing

Dean sighs quietly behind his mask as he watches his fellow rebels go through the nightly routine of taking off all of their body armor. Since being approached by Skurge and encouraged to go against you to try and rehabilitate your criminal empire, he and another 5 people that he’d recruited lived in what had essentially become a frat house. It could house up to 15 people, and there was no personal space, but it’s not like they had much time to enjoy it anyway. If they weren’t sleeping, they were out assisting Hela in some way. Most of the time they were serving as ‘hired’ muscle and intimidation as the brunette continued to recruit from your ranks. People were unsure of what was happening at first, but after the first mass execution a couple of days ago, they were beginning to fall in line or disappear. 

Dean’s only helping because he wants to see you fail. He’d never really liked you and even after working for you for three years, his opinion hasn’t changed. He’d never sought out a group of people who felt the same, but he gravitated toward them as he came across them over the years. They’d all becomes friends and when they’d been approached about double-crossing you, they’d been cautiously optimistic. This was something they’d wanted for a while, but hadn’t been able to swing themselves. 

Now with Hela’s help, they were much closer to having someone else in charge. Someone that would hopefully treat them better. That said, he’s currently exhausted, and as soon as he’s out of his heavy armor he collapses into his bed. He groans when his stiff muscles begin to relax as he closes his eyes. He thinks back to how busy these past few days have been. He’s spent a lot of time out and about helping Hela terrorize your still faithful employees. He’d even gone to your penthouse which is something he never thought he’d get the chance to do. 

When he’d been told that he was going to hold your wife at gunpoint, he was a little reluctant. Not because he particularly cared about either of you, but he feared that his involvement would get him killed. He had not expected her to be the one to shoot first and ask questions later. The urge to hurt the three of them had been nagging at him the entire time they were there, but they’d been given orders to only shoot if you were uncooperative. After a short and sickeningly sweet conversation, you gave up your freedom to keep your wife, friends and dogs safe. 

He had to hand it to you, it was brave coming back here to face Hela. She’d already alluded to your imminent demise, and he was surprised to see that you were here with very little protest. You must be thinking about your family, and hoping that you’ll get back to them at some point. However, as soon as Hela gets your empire back to it’s former glory, she’s going to get rid of you for good. 

Hela frowns at the silly question before shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh. She stands up and moves toward the monitors until she’s standing right in front of the one you must have seen. It’s your wife’s restaurant, at least a view from the street and it’s one of the first places she’d decided she wanted to monitor. The first was your penthouse. Her plan was to get your attention and she knew that this would be most effective by using those close to you. It took her a while to decide what she wanted to do. She’d wanted you in jail for whatever she planned because she knew it would make you feel helpless, but she’d eventually decided to spare Wanda’s life. She figured you’d be more compliant if she left her alive, and so far, you had been. 

She hopes that you realize they won’t be alive for too much longer. 

“You should know the answer to this, darling. You must use people’s weaknesses against them if you want to get your way.” 

You’re not surprised, rather disappointed by this answer and you shake your head before offering a small smile. 

“I didn’t forget.” 

You don’t get a response as Hela turns back toward the screens in front of her and takes a few steps back. She looks at all of them and you wonder what’s on her mind, and if any of it is going to affect you. 

“So what’s the next step? How are we going to revive my dying empire?” 

Yelena’s scowling as she looks to the barbed whip in her sister’s hand with a shake of her head. They were working on finding a way to attack the bullet proof soldiers the next time they saw them, and they were going through their entire arsenal. They realize that they were going to have to rely on brute force to best the damn minions that Hela had been sending all over town. Nat had been trying to track them from a distance, and after an entire day of following them she’d found their homebase. Unfortunately, they would be very outnumbered if they tried to attack there. Nat had counted 8 of them coming and going in one day, and she couldn’t see inside so she wasn’t able to say what their odds would be. 

“What about this?” 

Nat turns to see her sister’s holding up a modern-day version of a flail that might just do the trick. Nat walks forward so she can inspect it and then she wracks her brain for whether or not she has enough of these types of things to face off with. She sighs before realizing that she’s going to have to go to her vault. 

“That’s good, but I think we need to take a quick trip for something better.” 

Wanda sighs as she tries again to pick up the pot in front of her. She’d been staring at it for twenty minutes since she put down Natalya for a nap, and she hadn’t even reached out for it. It wasn’t that her arms hurt that much. No it was mostly the fact that she hadn’t thought about cooking since the accident. That’s what she was calling it anyway, but it had rattled her enough to stick to using the microwave to prepare meals. This wasn’t that much of an inconvenience except when she wanted to cook breakfast, or the urge to bake made her wander around the kitchen. 

For this reason, Wanda was trying to ease herself back into cooking, and the kitchen as a whole. Mostly the stove. You’d helped her a lot and her brother had too, but now that she was alone, at least for a little bit she had to try and do something for herself. She also knew that she couldn’t be afraid for too long. She loves cooking and she doesn’t want to lose that because of what Hela did to her. She’s placed a pot half full with water on the stove, and she just had to find the courage to turn it on. She wasn’t even sure what she would do with it, but she hadn’t really thought that far ahead. She was going to turn it on soon. She just needed another minute. 

She startles when she feels a dog brush up against her leg, and she looks down to see Rogue watching her impatiently. She smiles at him before reaching down to pet his head with a sigh. She wishes you were here with her, but she supposes the next best moral support for this is her dog. She keeps one hand on Rouge as she reaches out to turn on the stove in front of her. Despite the desire to look away, she watches as the little flames turn on and she holds her breath and waits for something to happen. She lowers her arm because it’s starting to ache, and she just stands by watching until the water begins to boil. When it’s bubbling, Wanda smiles slightly before looking down to Rogue who’s still watching her closely. He licks her hand and whines before following her to the pantry. 

“How about some hot chocolate, bud?” 

Rogue watches her grab a mug and pour some powder into it with a sigh. She glances at her phone that she’d left beside the stove, and she has to resist the urge to check your location again. She’s never checked it so frequently and it felt stalkerish, but in this situation she believed that it was okay. Well, it wasn’t okay because it was driving her crazy knowing where you were and not being able to do anything to get closer to you. She considers how she’ll get you back as she takes her first sip. She hears Natalya fuss through the monitor a few seconds later, and she’s grateful for the distraction. She sets her mug down and heads toward the nursery only to find that Boone’s already there. She greets him with a quick scratch as she walks through the door to check on her mewling baby. 

“What’s wrong, little one?” 

Wanda watches as Natalya squirms and cries in distress, but she’s not sure why. She ate a little earlier so she must be lonely, and Wanda decides to sit with her for a while. She rocks her daughter on her lap as she talks to her in Sokovian for a while, and by the time she finishes she’s tearing up a little. She kisses her baby’s head before thinking about what you might be doing. 

“Do you miss. Mom, little one? She’ll be home soon, I promise. Right now she’s…well it’s a little complicated sweetheart. She’s cutting ties with someone she used to know, but as soon as she’s done with that, she’ll be back to us. You’ll be excited to hear that she’s promised to be around for us more. You will have both of your moms around all day. You’ll be sick of us, but I’m very excited to have both of you home with me. I’ve missed it. 

Once Nat’s settled again and fallen asleep, Wanda puts her back in her crib and carefully steps over Rogue as she heads back to the kitchen. Her hot chocolate is cold but she just heats it up in the microwave before finishing it off. She looks to her phone when it beeps and she smiles when she sees her brother’s texted her.  She rolls her eyes before typing out a quick response. She decides that she needs to figure out what you’re up to soon. She’s going to give you a couple of hours before checking in again, but she’s not just going to sit around and wait for an update. She wanders down the hall and toward one of the extra bedrooms. You have so many that you don’t even use this one, or at least not for guests. Even if each of your friends wanted their own room, this one would stay untouched because it housed some of your many, many weapons. 

Wanda sighs as she pushes the door open and switches on the light with a grimace. Her arms are aching from her time with Natalya, but she continues into the room and heads straight for the closet. She loved you a lot, and despite understanding your paranoia a little better now, she was still shocked sometimes by how much effort you put into hiding things. She switches on the light before sliding the door open and looking around the seemingly empty space. Nothing catches her eye immediately and she spends almost a full minute looking for the hidden panel that will open the very large safe room that you’d had built into this closet. 

After entering the combination to the lock, she hears the telltale rumbling of the door unlatching and a second later it opens. Wanda’s grateful that it opens on its own because this door is very heavy. Wanda leaves it open behind her since she didn’t grab a baby monitor, and she steps inside the room that’s almost larger than the dog’s room. It’s filled with guns, ammunition, and other weapons that you’ve used over the years, but haven’t touched in a while. The large wooden desk in the back of the room is one you rarely used, and the couch that was mostly for the dogs also looked untouched. 

Wanda had come in here primarily to look for a specific gun, but her eyes are drawn toward the series of pictures she’d put up in here. Initially, when you’d showed her the room, it had been wall to wall guns, and she’d immediately asked you to change this. Not only was it disturbing, but it was unsecure and a little excessive. You’d caved when your wife had promised to redecorate tastefully for you, and despite being a little anxious about it, Wanda hadn’t disappointed. 

The series of pictures she’d had framed for you were of your two beloved dogs. Starting with them as puppies, Wanda had used some of the many, many pictures you’d captured of them over the years to show how they’d grown from small puppies, to your full-grown loyal companions. Before Natalya was born, you’d come in here sometimes and just look at the pictures and admire your dogs. After, you’d joked that you had an entire room dedicated to your dogs, and more pictures of them than your daughter in the house. Wanda decided to change this, but you both agreed that it was a little weird to put pictures of Natalya in here with your weapons. 

Wanda looks away from a picture of Rogue and Boone wrestling when they were just puppies and turns toward the far wall behind your desk. Since she made you reorganize in here, there were nearly a dozen locked drawers that held specific types of guns. She was looking for one that you hadn’t used in years. She smiles widely as she puts in the code and waits to see the rifle that she wants to use on a particular brunette. 

You take a deep breath as you stare at your hand with a longing look. You twirl the rings on your finger as you think about what tonight would bring. You’re exhausted and want to sleep despite passing out after being brought here, but you don’t feel safe. You had been led to a room that was surprisingly nice, but this did nothing to quell your fears of Hela coming to find you after you freshened up. You didn’t have a lock on the door, and you had no weapons nearby to protect yourself with. You were wearing clothes that were too large for you as you wait on the comfortable bed, and you feel yourself fading with each passing second. Your eyes flutter dangerously and you miss the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. 

It's the sound of someone knocking that makes you sit up straight and tense in anticipation. Your achy muscles protest, but you do your best to ignore it as you turn to face whoever’s come to bother you. 

You’re a little puzzled by the appearance of one of Hela’s armed minions, but you quickly realize you’d forgotten how much Hela liked wielding her authority like this. You remember how she’d had people run ridiculous errands for her, and the fact that this is one of those times makes you feel like you’re that scared 23-year-old who hadn’t known how to escape your tormenter. 

You try to push these thoughts aside as you stand up and follow the brunette to wherever Hela was waiting for you. 

Hela had considered a few different options for how she wanted tonight to go. She knew you still weren’t on board with any of this. You were mostly confused and homesick, but she decided that distraction was the most appropriate course of action for now. She remembers how easily distracted you were when she knew you, and just watching you these past few weeks has told her that you haven’t changed much in this regard. 

She finishes putting her hair up and she stands with a sigh as she looks in the mirror. This month has been an exhausting one for her, and even though you’re not truly back yet, having you nearby makes her body feel like it can relax a little. She has to resist the urge to let her guard down though because she feels that you are still going to try and betray her. She hears footsteps coming down the hall and she makes sure her robe is tied before she turns toward the door with an impassive expression. 

The resounding knock a few seconds later almost makes her smile. 

“Come in.” 

As you’re led down a long, dark hallway, you’re given plenty of time to consider what could be waiting for you on the other side of the door. You try to think of Wanda and your daughter at home as Dean stops in front of the door and knocks so loudly you almost flinch. You fiddle with your rings as you wait impatiently, anxious to figure out what Hela has planned. You consider every grizzly possibility that you can. You wonder if she’ll hurt you now, or if she’s going to make you hurt someone. Maybe she’ll--.

“Come in.” 

As soon as the door is swung open, Dean turns to leave, but not before pushing you through it roughly. You consider spinning around and punching him in the face for putting his hands on you, but the door practically slams shut before you can even look over your shoulder. You scowl and listen to him walk away before your attention is pulled back to Hela who’s watching you wordlessly. The brunette can’t help but smile at the fight that she still sees in you. You turn around slowly prepared to ask her what she wants, but the sight of her makes you stop short. You’re sure your eyes widen in surprise, but that really only lasts for a moment before you feel your muscles tense in fear.

“Sit.” 

Hela pats the spot beside her on the bed, and you just look at it for a few seconds before you force yourself to take the first step to close the distance. You hadn’t expected for Hela to greet you with barely any clothes on, and it was stressing you out. You sat down where she indicated, and if you sat a little further away than she wanted, you pretended not to notice. You focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet instead of the woman sitting next to you, but this only lasts for a few seconds before she starts talking. You look up to see her smiling at you and you feel something you can’t put a name to as Hela reaches out for you. 

“I wanted to tell you something, Y/n.” 

This isn’t a surprise to you, but you don’t dare say that as you notice the gun she has sitting on her bedside table. You just nod and wait for her to finish her thought. Your eyes start to wander to the dark purple silk that’s covering an undoubtedly insubstantial slip beneath. The color reminds you of the first person you’d killed, and you shudder at the memory of the poor drug addict. Hela misinterprets this but you don’t notice as you try to blink away the sight of the blood-soaked suit. 

Hela sighs as she decides to be honest and see how you react to it. She has only one goal in mind, and that’s keeping your empire for herself. If she is able to keep you as well then she’ll be happy, but it’s not really a priority. She just has to make sure that if you stick around, you and the rest of your family stays out of her way. 

“When I found you here a couple of months ago, I realized it was a chance for us to start over. Your business is struggling, but with my help, I know we can get it back on track.” 

You try not to react to the feeling of her hand on yours, and you focus on her bright eyes that tell you that she’s plotting something. Still, you smile slightly at the thought of your business improving and making more money. When you first started, your goal was to make a name for yourself. You needed money, but there had been dozens of other options for an occupation other than mobster that you could have, and should have pursued. That said, when you arrived in Chicago, you’d decided to try and prove Hela wrong. She’d only told you that you were useless and couldn’t do anything for yourself for months, so you’d thought you’d try to show her. It was foolish and stubborn, and you should have known better than to do something so reckless. 

You’d always loved food. Maybe you should have gone into the food industry, and there is a small chance you still would have met your wife. 

You realize you haven’t responded when you feel Hela squeeze your hand, and you quickly nod before releasing the breath you’d been holding. 

“I think…I think I’d like that."

Pietro frowns in confusion as he calls out for his sister again. He’d texted her to tell her that he would be by soon to check in and see if she needed help, but she hadn’t responded. He figured she might be resting, but as he wanders further into the penthouse, he realizes that might not be the case. The dogs that hadn’t greeted him at the elevator that he’d managed to get working just on card access, appear from a place where he doesn’t usually see them. Pietro holds out his hands for them to sniff, but they quickly get bored of him and go to their water bowl instead. 

This leaves Pietro to check in the nursery for his sister, but neither she nor his niece are there and his frown deepens. 

“Wanda?” 

He checks outside first to see if Wanda’s relaxing out there with Natalya, but all he finds are the other three dogs lying around or wrestling. He walks back into the living room to see a tail disappear down a hallway, and he decides to follow it. He turns the corner just in time to see one of the dogs disappear into a bedroom that his sister doesn’t use. Pietro just thinks that his sister might be crashing somewhere else to try and not think about your absence, and he’s kind of right. 

What awaits him is a confusing scene that takes him a bit to process. He watches Rogue head toward the couch where Wanda’s sitting with Natalya on her lap asleep. She looks near sleep too, but she hears him, or maybe her dog and she wakes up a little. She sits up and looks to her brother who’s looking around your secret room with a bewildered expression. Wanda hadn’t told him about this because she knew he wouldn’t approve. It honestly never came up, and since everything was either locked up or unloaded, it was perfectly safe for her to hang out in here, even if it’s a little odd. 

“Hi Piet.” 

Pietro’s attention turns back to his sister who’s making sure she hasn’t woken up her daughter before greeting her dog. Rogue sticks his nose in Wanda’s lap and sniffs Natalya before leaning against the couch with a yawn. They all look very comfortable, but Pietro’s still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this room even exists. 

“Hey, Wands. This is…new?” 

It’s more of a statement than a question, but Wanda still shakes her head as her brother wanders over to the free seat at the end of the couch. He sits down as Wanda glances around the room once again before sighing in defeat. She isn’t sure why she felt the urge to hang out in here. It didn’t make a lot of sense given how she felt about your job, but she had to admit it was a nice room, albeit a little unsettling if she thought too much about it. 

“Not really. She’s had this here basically since moving in.”

Wanda just smiles at her brother’s awestruck look as he continues to look around at the many weapons that are probably worth more than she wants to think about. He has to resist the urge to stand up and go touch, and instead he focuses on the other Maximoffs. 

“I can’t believe I didn’t know this was here. It’s so cool.”

Wanda rolls her eyes but she doesn’t stop her brother from reaching out for Natalya and holding her in his arms. He kisses his niece’s forehead before leaning back against the couch beside Boone. He’s resting his head on his sister’s leg, and he moves a little closer once her lap is freed up, but Rogue beats him to it. He jumps up onto the couch beside Wanda and plops down on top of her with a huff. Wanda can’t help but smile as she reaches out to scratch him. 

“Y/n would be happy to hear you say that.” 

Pietro smiles as he bounces Natalya in his arms gently enough to not wake her up. Wanda watches carefully as she glances to her phone on the table that she must not have heard earlier. 

“Sorry I didn’t answer. I’m just trying to relax, and not think about what she’s up to.” 

Wanda frowns at the thought and it doesn’t take Pietro long to figure out what she’s talking about. He’s only wondered what you were up to multiple times today, but any prolonged consideration made him too angry. He wanted you to wrap things up and come back to his sister, but he knew things were a little more complicated than that. He just had to wait until everything was in place, and give you a little more time before they decided to speed things up. 

Pietro knew his sister well enough to realize that she was coming up with a plan of her own as well. The fact that she was in here might be an escape now, but she wouldn’t come in here, of all the other rooms in her house, if she wasn’t looking for something. Pietro hoped it was a gun that would wipe Hela off the face of the Earth. 

Pietro tries to reassure his sister that you’re doing your best to get back to her and Natalya. He has to believe this or else he’ll spiral and get angry all over again. He’s doing his best to give you the benefit of the doubt, and it’s not even that difficult in this case. He knows how much you love your family, and leaving them isn’t an option. 

He shifts little Nat in his arms before shooting his sister a smile. 

“I’m sure she’s working hard to get back here, sestra.” 

You’re near sweating in your uncomfortable clothes as you and Hela sit facing each other at the end of her bed. She’s still holding your hand and you can tell it’s getting a little gross as you try to predict what Hela’s going to do next. Since telling her that you wouldn’t be opposed to returning your empire to its former glory, she hasn’t said anything. She’d only hummed in response and continued to hold your hand as she tried to read you. She hated to admit it, but she was out of practice and therefore not nearly as good at guessing your intentions. You’re still stiff and you look very uncomfortable as you resign yourself to your fate. You realize that the fact you’re even sitting here with Hela means that she wants something from you. It’s not a difficult conclusion to come to, but you’re usually slow to figure things out and you nearly kick yourself at the realization. 

You’re going to have to give her what she wants if you hope to save your family from any further harm. 

Hela watches as you deflate with a heavy sigh and a slow smile creeps onto her lips. You turn your hand over in hers before squeezing it gently. You are trying not to cry as you think about your wife at home and how much you miss her. It hasn’t even been a day, but you don’t see the end of this anywhere near. 

“Will you show me how?”

Hela’s wide smile is borderline creepy, but you force yourself to look at it as something that’s comforting. She’s going to do this for you because it’s really what she wants. If she gets your compliance at the same time she’s killed two birds with one stone, and more importantly, to her at least, she’s going to figure out how to return to power. 

You’re mostly dissociating when Hela leans forward and presses her lips against yours. You stiffen because you can’t help it, but you manage not to pull away before Hela does. She eyes you critically before smirking at your flushed face. She leans back before humming thoughtfully. This is going to be interesting. 

“Let’s go to sleep, darling. Tomorrow we’ll get to work.” 

Bucky’s in the bedroom changing when he hears the front door slam shut. He’d been waiting for Natasha for a while, so he’s quick to greet her despite his slight limp. He opens his mouth to speak, but he stops short at the sight of his girlfriend with a large chest full of something heavy and metal. Nat groans as she sets it down and sits on it with a sigh. She’s sweating but she has a smile on her face as she looks down at the giant chest of weapons that she’d picked for their next encounter with the damned armored minions.

“Hey there.” 

Bucky watches as Nat stands up before kicking the chest closer to the wall with a sigh. She looks to the brunette and kisses his cheek before gesturing to her haul. 

“Hey. Look at what I found.” 

Bucky watches as Nat opens the chest and he takes in the sight of the weapons that look heavier than anything the redhead usually went for. This tells him immediately that she’s found what she was looking for to combat Hela’s guards, and he reaches out to grab one of the maces with a smile.

“This might just work.” 

Despite her best efforts, Wanda finds herself on the rooftop not two hours after going to bed that night. She’d let both of her shepherds sleep in the bedroom with her, and she hadn’t even kicked Rouge out of bed when he jumped up about an hour after she’d turned off the lights. She had tried to sleep but she only tossed and turned each time her mind wandered to you and what you could be doing. She hated sleeping alone, but the fact that you were with Hela, possibly sleeping with Hela was making it impossible for her to relax.

She trusted you when you told her you would do your best to come home to her and Natalya soon. She hadn’t asked you for details, or maybe she had, she can’t remember, but you hadn’t been very specific about how you’d manage this. You told her that you would try to keep anything worse than you being beaten from happening, but this was hardly reassuring. She thought this in itself was horrible and it made her wonder what you considered better than this. Would you let her touch you? Would you drink with her? As Wanda laid in bed fretting over this, she realized that she needed to find a distraction. 

She’d practically jumped out of bed, not even noticing how she’d startled Rogue awake as she hurried for the bedroom door. She’d barely remembered to grab the baby monitor before she ventured toward the dogs’ room and out to the roof. She realized belatedly that her shepherds were following her, and she’d held the door open for them so they could all escape out into the cool night air.

Now that they’re all sitting on the couch, Wanda breathes in deeply before wiping the tears from her eyes. She grimaces as she’s reminded that she forgot to take her meds before bed, but she doesn’t have the energy to correct this now. She’s too preoccupied thinking about what could be happening to you, and she does her best to convince herself that you’re just sleeping. She wants to believe that you won’t let Hela do anything to you, but she really can’t pretend to know what Hela’s true intentions are. 

If she was being particularly pessimistic, she would say that Hela wants you back, and that once she gains your loyalty she’ll come after her and the rest of your family. She would be shocked if she was allowed to live which is why she’s not going to let this happen. She’d ended the day downstairs in the basement at the gun range because she couldn’t help herself. She just needed to reassure herself that even with her injured arms she could still shoot well. It had been painful and she was paying for it now, but it did the trick and only 15 minutes after leaving the condo she was back upstairs. She put the gun back in your weapons room, and showered before crawling into bed. 

Now that she’d convinced herself that she could shoot Hela, she just had to figure out how she’d track her down. She had a bad feeling you wouldn’t be home this week, and she was going to have to bring you back herself. She’d consult with both Bucky and Steve once she had a more concrete plan, but she would need to have a little more sleep before she thinks about that. 

She stares up at the stars with a sigh before shaking her head. She frowns at the feeling of uselessness that’s overwhelmed her for the past day. She wasn’t useless and she wasn’t going to let you be the only one working to get you back home. She’s sure your friends are trying to figure it out too, but she’s your wife and she’ll be damned if she just sits around and waits for someone to tell her what to do. 

Wanda reaches out for Rogue who’s sitting beside her, and she pets his head for a minute as she contemplates her next move. If she weren’t on pain killers, she would have had something to drink by now. She would have to stop by her brother’s to get anything, but she could justify bothering him for alcohol given the circumstances. She decides that alcohol would only make her feel better for a few hours, so it’s not really worth it. She thinks about what you would say too and she immediately feels guilty for even thinking about it. 

She knows that you’d be understanding, and despite not touching a drop of alcohol for years, you’d want her to do whatever made her feel better. She knew that your experience with alcohol would keep her from ever developing a problem, but that didn’t mean she wanted to resort to getting drunk to feel better. She’d learned over the years that the best thing to do is be productive instead. If she wanted to feel better about something, she had to do something about it, and this is what she decides to do. 

You don’t sleep a wink that night. You had a feeling this would happen, and despite how frustrating it is, you don’t feel safe enough to let your guard down. You’re lying in bed less than a foot away from Hela and you’re tense from head to toe in anticipation. You keep waiting for the brunette to wake up and smother you or something, or maybe try to touch you in her sleep. You can’t risk falling asleep because then you’re completely helpless and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. 

You try to figure out what Hela’s going to want you to do tomorrow, and at the same time you wonder what your wife is up to. Hopefully she’s asleep right now, but knowing her it’s not a restful sleep. You feel guilty about this on top of everything else, and you sigh heavily briefly forgetting your fear of waking Hela up. You roll onto your side and face the door with a frown as you consider how much longer you’ll have to be here. You try to think about your wife and the rest of your family. You consider what life could be like for all of you if you get away from Hela, from all of this. 

You don’t know if Wanda would be willing to leave her restaurant behind, but you don’t think about that now. Instead, you imagine you and your wife living in a secluded house deep in the mountains. Maybe you’d leave the country, and go to Europe. Maybe you could live in a villa somewhere in Italy, far, far away from this life. 

You don’t realize that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up the next morning. You probably weren’t asleep for more than a couple of hours when the sound of someone calling your name wakes you. You jump in surprise and it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are. You frown and then sigh heavily as you sit up with a groan. You are exhausted and your eyes sting as you look to Hela who’s holding something in front of her. You watch her set down a tray of food that you have to admit smells good. 

“Good morning, darling. Eat up, we’re going to have a busy day.” 

You glance at the food briefly before turning to the bottle of orange juice that sits beside the glass that’s already half full. You are hesitant to eat any of this because you don’t trust Hela not to try and drug you. You do your best to stall as you shoot her a questioning look before asking what you’d stressed over all last night. 

“What’s on the agenda for today?” 

Hela doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she reaches for the glass of juice and hands it to you with an expectant look. You take a sip to appease her, but it’s small and only tastes of orange juice. Still, you don’t let this fool you and you hand it back to her quickly. She doesn’t object and she reaches for the plate of food that you’re not going to eat much of if any. 

“We’re going to pay a friend a visit.” 

If your appetite hadn’t been stolen by the fact that Hela’s supposedly prepared food for you, it certainly would have been obliterated by the news of who you were going to visit. You don’t bother hiding your reaction, but you try to mask your concern with confusion. You aren’t sure how Hela figured out your limited, but important relationship with Tony. He was the first one who believed in you enough to invest in your future with the mob. You saw him as an uncle figure at times because he was almost a decade older than you were, and he was one of the only people who would tell you that you were in the wrong.

Well, that was until you met your wife. 

Tony was the one who helped you become a mobster, and you’d told him that he was the one who would find out first that you were going to quit. You’d decided that if you ever wanted out of your profession, you would tell Tony first. This was mostly out of professional courtesy, and the fact that he would need to be prepared for your departure. He would need to figure out how to control the backlash and be prepared to recover from it. You joked that you would take him out for a nice dinner to break the news, but then he’d begun to expect it. 

You wonder how this meeting will fall short of his expectations. 

“He’s expecting us a little later. I wanted to introduce you to my team here before we go.” 

You hold back the frown that threatens at the thought of meeting the same group you did last night. You’d decided that they were the ones who had been sent to your house to threaten your family. You would like to punch them in the face, but you’re going to have to play nice. For now, at least. 

“Okay, I’ll get ready.” 

You failed to realize that getting ready meant showering and putting on your dirty, wrinkled clothes. It was either this or some of Hela’s clothes and you refused to do that for multiple reasons. You’d look even more ridiculous than you do now because she’s so much taller than you. You try to ignore the stress headache brewing behind your eyes as you follow Hela out of your room to see what awaits you. 

Yelena curses as she ducks down when a car passes by her, and pulls into the driveway of the glorified frat house that she and her sister are staking out. Their goal was to figure out how to take out some of Hela’s ranks so she can’t use them in an attempt to keep you away from your family. She had been staking out this place all day, and she’d seen close to ten people come and go, all dressed and ready to terrorize people. 

Yelena had to resist the urge to shoot some of the dumber ones that didn’t have their helmets on, but she didn’t want to give herself up too quickly. She needed the element of surprise, and for this she had Nat looking into what their security was like. Hopefully they would be able to take them out relatively easily while Steve and Bucky dealt with tailing you and making sure you weren’t being tortured by Hela. 

When her phone rings, Yelena almost jumps but she simply curses before answering it quickly. 

“What, what is it?” 

She hadn’t even looked at the caller ID. She was focused on how easy it was for one of the minions to get back into the frat house, and she finds herself smiling until she hears the voice on the other end of the line.

“Excuse you? I’ve figured out how to take out the middle men, but if you don’t care…” 

Yelena curses loudly before shaking her head and apologizing before her fiancée could go on. She was helping her with surveillance now since Nat was trying to team up with Bucky to figure out how to get to you sooner rather than later. 

“Sorry, sorry. What did you find out my wonderful future wife?” 

She can imagine the eye roll that accompanies the loud sigh that Kate releases at her question. She doesn’t bother to address this now because she knows time is of the essence. She looks at her watch and decides that they have about an hour to make this work if they want to do it today. The lack of news from you or Hela even is stressing everyone out, and it’s encouraging everyone to go forward with their own plans. Wanda’s working on her own certainly, but your friends are also trying to figure out how to eliminate as many threats to the family while they figure out how to get you back. 

“We’re going to have to move quickly, Lena, but I think we have a shot at this.” 

The trip downtown to where Tony’s office is located is an agonizingly slow one. You are sitting in the back seat of the car silently stewing over how rude the minions were to you earlier. You have no power over them and they know this, so they treat you like dirt. As annoying at it is, you’re not going to fight anyone on it because it’s so low priority for you. Your main concern is getting home and making sure that you and your family aren’t any worse for wear from this horrible experience. 

“I think I should do all of the talking when we meet him.” 

You’re not surprised, but you are disappointed to hear this and you just nod before deciding that this might be useful. Tony knows you well and you’re hoping your silence, your deference to Hela will tell him more than whatever comes out of the brunette’s mouth. You wonder what Hela’s planning on telling him, but given how you’re almost there you know you won’t have to wonder for long. 

She’s going to throw you under the bus though. You know that for sure. 

You ignore the slight nausea and headache that’s been bothering you since breakfast and close your eyes to try and relax until you get there. You briefly wonder what Wanda’s up you, but you’re distracted by the car coming to a sudden stop. You’re only worried for a second before you hear the driver’s voice through the opening divider. 

“They’re asking for identification, ma’am.” 

You’d almost forgotten how paranoid your friend was, and you actually smile at the reminder. You don’t have any identification on you since you left it all knowing that you’d be stuck here. You realize it’s not important because once the window’s rolled down and someone takes a look at you, you’re cleared to head inside. You drive a little further to a parking spot before you’re led out into the impressive building. You used to think that Tony’s design choice for this place was ridiculous. You’ve made fun of him in the past for flaunting his wealth, but you’d take all of this back today if he asked because you’re relieved to see a friendly face. 

Tony meets you and Hela at the door, and you don’t miss how his gaze falls to the two bodyguards that are more for Hela’s benefit than yours. You offer him a smile but don’t get a chance to do anything else before Hela is speaking. You stop in your tracks as Hela offers her hand to Tony along with a smile that you’re sure is fake. 

“Mr. Stark, thank you for making the time to see me today.” 

Since no one but Tony can see you, you roll your eyes before letting your expression match your displeasure. You knew you were just here as a formality, but you didn’t want her to insult you in front of your friend. Tony’s gaze didn’t leave Hela’s but you can tell that he sees your reaction, and he smiles before shaking Hela’s hand. He looks to you as he waves you both to follow him to the nearest conference room. He hates to do business standing up, and you aren’t surprised to find drinks waiting for you. 

“Of course, you made it sound worth my while. Plus, it’s been a minute since I’ve seen this one.” 

You don’t comment, but you smile as you follow after Hela and take a seat beside her. You purposely pull your seat away from hers so you don’t have to sit too close to her, and luckily she doesn’t seem to care. You watch as Tony sits down too and looks to you first before addressing Hela with a healthy amount of skepticism. You’d fear for his safety if he weren’t in his building, and he wasn’t still important to Hela’s plan. However, he still has use to her so you just try to hide your amusement. 

“So what’s the deal with the rumors going around that say you’re taking over things?” 

You hold your breath as you wait for Hela to reply. You don’t dare look away from Tony as you hear Hela sit up and sigh dramatically. You don’t even need to hear what she says next to know that it’s going to be critical of you in several ways. 

“Y/n has admitted that she’s let her work slip in recent years, especially since getting married, and she’s asked me to take over. She’ll be assisting, but mostly in the background.” 

And maybe a lie or two as well.

This time Tony doesn’t hide his confusion as he looks to you only to find that you’re staring at your hands. He doesn’t speak immediately because he’s tossing around what Hela just said and trying to make sense of it. When you eventually look up you see that Tony’s sat back in his chair and his arms are crossed as he studies you with a frown. You have a feeling you know what’s coming next, but you don’t let on as you wait as patiently as possible for Tony to catch on. 

“This is really how you decide to tell me this, Y/n? I thought you’d go all out.” 

You have to hold back your grin in response as you just shrug and shoot him an apologetic look. 

“Sorry to disappoint, Tony.” 

Tony doesn’t argue or even really respond to this, and the next half hour is Hela talking to him like you’re not even there. You listen a little, but Hela’s told you most of her plan at this point, so you’re not super interested in listening again. You know she plans to completely rebuild everything to her own liking, but you don’t even care. You’re hoping she won’t get that fair. 

You catch yourself almost falling asleep as you sit beside Hela and you frown as you force yourself to sit up and try to pay attention. You realize that this makes your head hurt even more than before, and you sigh inaudibly before closing your eyes and trying to block out what your friend and Hela are saying. 

You wonder what your family is up to. Is everyone mad at you? You know them well enough to guess that they are at the very least irritated with you. You’re certain that they are all making their own plans to get you back home, and you are honestly glad. You are realizing that your plan to go along with Hela until she trusts you won’t work. You overestimated how important you were to her plans, and she honestly just needed you here with Tony to prove that you were on board with your forced retirement. 

You’re shocked when it’s time to leave and Tony hugs you goodbye. He’s only hugged you maybe three times before, but you do your best to pretend like it’s normal. You hug him back briefly, but break away first so Hela doesn’t get too mad. You tell him you might see him around before you step outside and follow Hela to the car. You squint as the sun hits you and immediately makes you flinch from the pain in your skull. 

Of all days to have a stress headache. You can’t even take anything for it, and its not like you’d trust Hela to give you anything for it that would actually help. You try not to think about it much as you slide into the back seat and get buckled. You’re startled by the sound of the door slamming far harder than necessary, but you don’t get to open your eyes and see what’s wrong before Hela’s got you in her grasp. You hiss in surprise and then pain as she shoves you against the door causing you to hit your head against the window. You curse under your breath and then stiffen once you realize she’s pinning you there, waiting until the car starts before she speaks up. 

“I told you not to say a word.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you wait for her to instruct you to speak. You figure she’ll want you to be your old obedient self now that it’s just you two again, and she doesn’t fail to meet your expectations. Eventually you shake your head before responding through gritted teeth. 

“So you wanted me to say nothing, even as he talked to me? That wouldn’t have made him suspicious.” 

Hela doesn’t even bother responding to this as she releases her hold on you but roughly enough that you hit your head on the window again. You curse her in your head in all the languages you know before turning to confirm that she’s moved away from you. You hope that you’re going back to the hideout so you can be away from Hela, but you’re sure that would be too lucky. You instead have a feeling you’ll be running more errands with her now that she has Tony’s support. 

Wanda’s waiting anxiously for her friends to update her on how this afternoon went. She’d spent most of the day trying to not check in on you and stay in touch with her friends, but it was difficult to do. Everyone was busy, and she had been practically ordered to stay in the penthouse which was fine by her, for now. She took care of Natalya, and spent time with her dogs but she was getting restless. Not having you home, and worse, not knowing what you were up to with Hela was causing her to take more of your meds than she should. 

She’s just starting to feel a little more relaxed when she hears her phone ring from somewhere beside her. She sighs as she reaches blindly for it and answers without bothering to see who it is. 

“Hello?” 

Wanda’s quick to sit up when she realizes who’s calling, and she has to stop herself from crying tears of joy. 

“Mrs. Wanda Maximoff. Tony Stark here. I was wondering if you have time to discuss bringing your wife home.” 

You don’t know what’s happened, but as soon as you and Hela return to her hideout you realize something’s wrong. People are running around and looking frantic in a way that immediately sets you on edge. You walk slowly behind Hela who asks the first person she finds what’s going on. You try to eavesdrop, but you’re too far away and too nervous to creep closer. You are glad you’re out of reach when Hela stiffens and turns back to you with a face like thunder. You resist the urge to step back as you wait and see what’s happened. 

“Follow me.” 

You don’t dare protest, and you slowly head up the stairs in what feels like a walk to the electric chair. Hela’s incredibly tense and her scowl sends anyone within sight running in the opposite direction. You feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as Hela leads you through the door to the room you’ve been staying in. She barely lets you walk through before she’s slamming the door behind you and locking it. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

You don’t have a response to this because you have no idea what she’s talking about. Whatever someone told her, you’re sure you didn’t have a role in it. That said, Hela clearly feels differently and you resist the urge to immediately deny her as you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“What do you mean?” 

The blow doesn’t surprise you as much as it hurt, and you barely resist the urge to curse as your head whips to the side from the force of the slap. You taste blood but you manage to ignore it as you turn and face Hela once again. You seem to remember that looking away from her will only lead to more pain, and you meet her gaze with a cautious look. Unsurprisingly she looks pissed, but until she tells you what’s wrong you’re not going to have any idea how to answer her question.

You don’t have to wait long and you yelp in surprise when Hela has you up against the door before you can even take a breath. You stiffen and have to resist the urge to fight back when she squeezes your throat and makes breathing near impossible. 

“Don’t be obtuse. I know you sent your friends to take them out. I should have killed them when I had the chance.” 

Hela releases her grip on your neck because despite enjoying the sight of you struggling to breathe, suffocating you would be too easy. She wants you to suffer and this means dragging out whatever punishment she thinks fits the crime of you having all of her minions blown up. 

You swallow a cough as you shake your head and try to figure out what Hela’s talking about. You certainly didn’t order a hit, not that you’d have the ability to right now, so someone else must be taking matters into their hands. It didn’t take a lot of thought to realize that your friends weren’t waiting around for you to come back. You just hoped that their efforts hastened your escape, and didn’t lead to too much pain for you. 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Hela is unsurprisingly not satisfied with this answer and she just scoffs before grabbing you by your shirt and dragging you out the door. You don’t know where she’s taking you, but you figure you don’t want to know and you try to shake her off with limited success. She ends up back handing you so hard you stumble against the wall and barely keep yourself standing. You’re not sure you’re able to hide the fear in your eyes as you glare at her. She simply glares back as she takes you by the wrist and yanks you along. You don’t fight this time because her words send a chill down your spine that is impossible to ignore. 

“Fine. I’ll just have to refresh your memory as I’m punishing you for it.” 

Masterlist

[paccheta]

PART 2-

After those attacks, not only he butchered his family, but also 5 other people. the remaining two managed to take a pic before Jeff ran away after having his fill, having eaten the woman’s husband. The reason Liu survived is cause, while in his mania, Jeff was also sensitive, and someone calling the police and the car lights scared him away. He still has to deal with the concept that, if nobody had called, Liu would be dead, but he would have feasted and thus, not had to attack and kill more people before regaining his senses.

He has no idea Who Jane is, The first time he meets her, she goes on about this long monologue on how She’s gone to avenge her parents and how he hurt her so much.

Jeff starts to doubt himself “Did I do that?”, he repeats those words in his mind, and, since he doesn’t remember, he goes with that narrative.

The man was gaslighted to believe he was the one to set ablaze at that house for the longest time.

As sad as it is to admit, he was so lonely and desperate for some Human interaction, that he purposely let himself be cornered by Liu and the others, hoping they would try to talk to him. Sadly they never did.

He hates his nails, sharp and big, and they are so damn hard that a nail cutter does not work well enough. So, he asks Randy to take them off with a pair of pliers now and then. He cannot see the process, but it doesn’t hurt as much. Randy is practically immune to it, he doesn’t struggle with having to do it. It’s the same when his teeth ache, Randy takes care of it and keeps the teeth.

Sleep? He wishes, as his Partner was not the quietest. Randy moves like a worm in bed. No sheets after 12, they get thrown off the bed. Freezing in winter, that or die burning getting spooned in summer Ginger has no concept of temperature, at least not at night. Will freeze in the Winter and Jeff Ignites in Summer. Jeff gets his tiny naps through the day though, it helps to evade his night terrors.

He hates being alone and needs some attention, otherwise he tends to spiral downhill fast. After the incident, he does not trust himself much, so having Randy ground him is necessary. However, funny enough, a switch gets flipped under stress, making him perform way better and think clearly.

He is not an expert but knows his way around mushrooms and plants, so he is good at foraging, as Randy hunts down some animals to process. Jeff, thanks to his dad being a chef, knows how to process and get the most out of any roadkill or hunt, and they can make most things last long enough to have winter covered. He is a good cook but has a hard time with red meat. Having tasted human flesh has left him traumatized and he will have to hold his stomach over to stop himself from puking. Thanks to this, he prefers Fish a lot more, and cannot taste pork again.

[happenssweet]

i think people who blame patrick for tashi's knee injury completely miss what's so important about her getting it.

the point isn't that she was distracted, or that she was upset. because that didn't matter. not in terms of what happened.

what's so jarring about that moment, the reason people gasp when they first see it, is not just the fact that she's injured herself. it's the way it's so unexpected.

after that fight, i think a lot of people may have anticipated her playing poorly, even losing her match. or maybe the exact opposite, a different type of ferocity in her playing. no one i've ever talked to or watched the movie with expected that.

and that's because it's a borderline perfect portrayal of sports injuries. yes, extenuating circumstances can contribute to being more reckless. but what's horrifying about injuries like a torn acl or meniscus isn't just that they happen.

it's that they happen out of nowhere. an athlete can be at their prime, playing the most perfect game of their career, but if they have one misstep, if they plant their foot wrong once, if they lock their knee involuntarily, hell, if they just focus too hard on their target, everything can fall to pieces in a second.

in my opinion, the point of her injury and that scene specifically is not that patrick caused it. i don't think he did. it's that when it happens, directly after that fight, you can almost tell exactly what's going to happen next. because we just saw a battle of pride. and now the one thing tashi is proudest of, the one thing she could hold over patrick in a way that could actually break through his facade, is gone.

now, a lot of athletes can recover from a knee injury with a surgery and proper physical therapy. especially when they're as young as tashi was. she probably knew that. but when patrick comes back after everything, she's not operating on reason. she hasn't been for hours.

to me, the fight didn't precipitate the injury. only the breakup. tashi is incredibly skilled, we know this because it's pointed out at every possible moment. at that level, a college match could be played practically on muscle memory. it's the shock of the suddenness, of the immediate tragedy, that pushes fear into her mind. and it was in those moments of terror that tashi probably decided it was easier to blame patrick than to come to terms with the fact that it was a freak accident that destroyed her future.

we don't get to see much of tashi's process of acceptance, and i think that's because, in part, it's something that is so incredibly difficult to even wrap your head around from an outside perspective, much less write, direct, or act. in a single moment, this girl, this college freshman, has had her life, or at least what she dreamed it would be, pulled out from under her, with no hope of recovering it.

it's on that court, on that exam table, that fear becomes something that begins to rule tashi. we don't see that in her before that day. but after, it's always present, lurking just beneath the surface of the attitude she needs to keep up to feel like herself. we see it at the applebee's. we see it in both hotel lobbies. we see it after she tells art she'll leave him. and we see it in the patrick's car.

because of one single misstep, fear is underwritten in each and every thing she does and says. it's the same fear that forces patrick away, and it's the same fear that lets him keep coming back.

and it's so evident because we see fear in art and patrick before that day. they each have different motivators, but there are clear moments when we can see them feeling it. it's not until something in her knee pops and devastates her career that fear seeps into her decision making as well.

i have personal experience with an extremely talented athlete sustaining a serious knee injury. when tashi jokes about art thinking she'd kill herself after it happened, they both laugh (albeit awkwardly), and the scene moves on. but it's not something you can joke about until long after. because, yes, when something so unexpected, something so abruptly sickening happens, one of the first concerns is how that athlete comes to terms with what's happened. with the randomness of it.

again, we only see a small part of how she deals with it in the aftermath. outwardly, sarcasm. in private, in her own mind, it's something significantly more desperate. and then, as we watch the way fear begins to guide her actions, we can begin to grasp how that moment rewired her.

there are many reasons she may have for cheating with patrick. one, i believe, is that he was her life pre-injury. he stopped being a part of it the moment it happened, so when he shows back up, it's an escape. she doesn't need to listen about her fiancé's stats, or how the girl she beat at the junior open is dominating women's tennis. because that first night back with patrick, she probably got to be that girl again. the one who dominated on and off the court, confidence unshakeable.

so no, i don't think the fight between tashi and patrick in her dorm affected her physical performance on the court that day. because if there's a highly influential external factor, it undermines the potency of the way she immediately tries to deflect by finding one, as well as the way it guides each and every one of her actions after. it's easy to blame patrick because she tries to at first, even if she does slowly come to terms with the chance of it all. we're told the match was her's before it even started. over and over again we are told so explicitly that there was nothing and no one that could shake tashi duncan.

and there isn't. not until she shakes herself.